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Tlic happiest biid’of o'.ir sprine. however,
and one that rivals the Eurojieaii laik, in nay
estimation, is the B oblincoo. or Boblink,as he
is commonly calle I. He arrives fit that
choice portion of our venr. vvhcli, .n this lati
tude, answers to the dcscriplton-oi the month
of May, so often given by the poets. With
us. it Iteains about tlic middle of May, and
lasts until nearly tlic middle of June. Earlier
than this, winter ts apt to return on its traces,
and to MifjhHhewjpcniug lieanties of the year;
and later than ’this, begin the parching, and
panting, and dis.-o!vitig heats of summer.
B it ifl’this genial interval, nature is in all her
freshness and fragrance ; ‘ the rains arc over
and gone, the (lowers appear upon t e earth,
the ti:no of the singing of birds is come, and
the voice of the turtle is heard in the land.
The trees are now in their fullest foliage and
brightest verdure ; the woo Is are guy w th the
cl littered (lowers of the laurel; the air •*> per
fumed bv the sweet-briar arid the/.tv,lii rose;
the meadows are emmmolled -with -dover
,hlo?so;n-i; while the young npple; the peach
and the (iluin, begin to swell, and tilecherry to
glow, among t ie green leaves.
This is the chosen season of revelry of the
Bohliuk. He comes amidst the pomp tnd
fragrance of t.he season ; his life seems all
sensibility and enjoyment, all song and sun
shine. He is to he found in the soft bosoms
of the freshest and sweetest meadows; and is
most in song, when the clover is in blossom.
He perches on the topmost twig,of a tree, or
on some long flaunting weed, and as he rises
and sinks with the breeze, pours forth a sue
cession of rich tinkling notes ; crowding one
•upon another, like that out-pouring melody of
the sky-lark, and possessing the same raptur
ous character. Sometimes he pitches from
rthe summit of a tree, begins his song as soon
as he gets upon the wing, and flutters tre/nu
•lousLy down to the earth, as if overcome with
•eestacy at his own music. Sometimes he is
in pursuit ofhis paramour ; always in full song
as if he would win her by his melody ; and
always with the same appearance of intoxica
ttion and delight.
Os all the birds of our groves and medows,
the Boblink was the envy of my boyhood.
He crossed my path in the sweetest weather,
and the sweetest season of the year, when all
nature called to the fields, and the rural feel
ing throbbed in every bosom ; but when I,
luckless urchin ! was doomed to be inewed up,
during the livelong day, in that purgatory ol
boyhood, a school-room. It seemed as if the
little varlet mocked at me, as lie flew by in full
song, and sought to taunt me with his happier
lot. Do, how I envied him ! No lessons, no
tasks, no hateful school; nothing but holiday,
frolic, green fields aid line vfeather. Had I
been then more versed in poetry. 1 might have
addressed him in the words of Logan to the
rcuckoo: ■
S.vrct bird ! thy bower is ever green,
Thv sky is ever clear;
Tli ■hi hast no sorrow in thy note,
No winter in thy year.
Oh ! could I fly, I'd fly with thee ;
We'd make, on joyful wing,
.Oar annual visit round the globe,
Companions of the spring !
Farther observation and experience have
* given me a different idea o! this little leathered
•voluptuary, which I will venture to impart, for
the benefit ol my school.boy readers, who
t ,n regard hint with the same unqualified!
►envy and admiration which. 1 once indulged.
I have shown him only as I saw him tit first,
in what I may call the poetical part of his
can cr, when he in a manner devoted himself
to elegant pursuits and enjoyments, and was a
■bird of music, and song, and taste, and sensi
bility, and refinement. Whilst this lasted, he
was sacred from injury ; the very school-boy,
would not fling a stone at him, and the merest
rustic would pause to listen to his strain. But
mark the diticrenee. As the vear advances,
as the clover-blossoms disappear, and the
spring fades into summer, his notes cease to
vibrate on the car. He gradually gives up his
.elegant tastes an I habits, do!Fs his poetical and
•professional suit of black, assumes a russet
or rutbor dusty garb, and enters inlo the gross
enjoyments of common, vulgar birds, lie be
comes a bon vivant, a mere gourmand ; think
ing of nothing hut good cheer, and gormandi
.ziu" on the seeds of the long grasses on which
swung, and cliaunted so musically, i
to think there is nothing like ‘ the
jo™of the table,’ ifj may he allowed to apply
.that convival phrase to his indulgences. He
•tow grows discontented with plain every-day
fire, and sets out on a gastrouomlca! tour, in
search of foreign luxuries. He is to he found
in myriads among the ree ls of the Delaware,
banqueting on their seeds; grows corpulent
•with good feeding, and soon acquires the un
’lncky renown of the ortolan. Wherever he
goes, pop! pop! pop! the rusty fi relacks of
"the country are cracking on every side; lie
sees his companions filling by Uiouatuvk.
around him; lie is the reed-bird, the /nuch
sought-for til-bit of the .Pennsylvania epicure.
Does lie take warning and reform ? Not
lie! Ho wings his fl.ght still further south,
in search of other luxuries. We hear of him
gorging himself in the rice swamps ; filling
liimsdt wit.i nee almost to bursting ; lie can
liardlv fly for corpulency. Last Mage of his
career, we hear of him spitted hv dozens, and
wrved up on th > table of the gourmand, the
most vaunted ot southern dainties, the rice
■<l/ird of the Curolitms.
Such is the story of the once musical and
admired, but finally sensual and persecuted,
Boblink. It contains a moral, worthy tlie at
ten!ion of all little* birds and little boys ; warn
ing them to keep to those refined and intellec
tual pursuits, which raised him to so high a
pitch of popularity, during tlie early part of
his career ; but to eschew all tendency to that
gross and dissipated indulgence, which brought
tuts mistaken little bird to an untimely end.
Which j.s all at present, from the well-wisher
oflatle boys and little birds.
ADIIRIITB VTOR'R BALE.
W^T| ■L'hcaoM .),) THURSDAY, 'lie 11th rlnv of
* » JULY m'Xt.sit the remirwc it Th"’rw>s Vorit,
InV of T vijjus county, tleccau-i!, at* the |m riahablr pro.
re-riv belonging lo shiU dee- nued, U'lisi-linc of Slock*.
II i«, Horse* iiml Iftoarho'd Furniture, mu! eunclrv
oilier articles, too numrmn* to o .n
CHARLES c. WHITEHEAD, AduiV
June 1 g-H
TIIE FATE OF THE HORNET.
11l the National Intelligencer ©flatty 23d is
re-publisbcd an article from the New.York'
Dispatch, in which some credence appears to
be given to a tale of a sailor now settled in the 1
Far West, of his being a survivor with five
others of the crew of the U- S. sloop of war
Hornet, lost some years since in the Gulf of
Mexico. He is reported to have stated “ that
the Hornet was making for a harbor, when
she struck upon a rock ; and that he knows of
the esca|ie from the wreck of no persons ex
cept himself and his five companions.” “They
wore drifted ashore upon the island of Cuba,
whence, after different changes and fortunes,
he is found at the West.”
The statements here made By this soi-dis
tiuit sailor.of the Hornet are so paljnbly false
that they would not obtain from me, at least,
■a contradiction, but for the reason that at
different and distant periods the fate of the
flornet has been witli me a subject of interes-
Siting investigation, near the place of her des
truction.
Before I proceed to relate the result of my
inquiries, I will offer but a word of comment
upon the miserable attempt at deception prac
tised by the pretended survivor of that lamen
ted vessel and crew. It is known officially
'that'the Hornet was at anchor off Tampico
I’bar. on the coast of Mexico ; and that, a vio
; lent norther coming on, she put to sea, and lias
never since been heard of; that she then
i foundered there can be no doubt, and that all
|on board perished with her is nearly equally
certain. Some remains of the boats of the
Hornet, it is understood, were subsequently
found upon the adjacent coast of Mexico,
flow the survivor in the West contrived to get
ashore upon the island of Cuba, nearly one
thousand miles from Tampico, will appear to
a seaman somewhat miraculous ; and that the
Hornet should have struck upon a rock in
making for a harbor is apparent to any one at
till acquainted with the coast of Mexico to be
a silly lie ; for there is not a single harbor for
a vessel of that class upon the whole Mexican
i coast of the Gulf of Mexico. Vera Cruz,
about 180 miles south of Tampico, admits
j large vessels between-the island and the city;
: but it is no harbor in a norther.
A few months before the loss of ihqjlornet,
the writer of this communication was in Ha
vana, in command of an armed vessel; the
Hornet made her appearance ofTthe Moro, and
; sent a boat into the port to communicate with
the Qonsul, Mr. Rodney. It came oil to blow
a gale of wind, and the boat could not return.
An invitation was given and accepted for the
officer and men to remain on board the vessel
under my command. The following day the
weather moderated, and the Hornet came into
j port. This small act of courtesy lei to an
acquaintance with Captain Norris and his
officers, which of course, from knowing the
sufferers personally, augmented tlie deep regret
felt by every American at the sad event which
took place soon afterwards.
About one year after the event alluded to
while lauding a cargo of valuable merchandize
on the const of Mexico at the mouth of tlie St.
Andeiy.l was informed by au American gentle
man, a doctor, then them, that he was at
Tampico at the time of the loss of the Hornet.
He was to have been a passenger in her; his
trunks and baggage were on board, and be
was prevented from embarking by the sudden-'
ness of the gale, tie staled that the Hornet ]
was at auchor off* the bar of Tampico, about
three miles from land ; her boats were on
shore, inside the bar, taking oil’some provis
ions ; and that, before tlie work was accom
plished, owing, as ho supposed, to tlie strong
indications of a norther, the bi*afe -were sud
denly recalled to the shjp by signal, and ae-j
cordingly instantly abandoned their task and
repaired to their vessel. The boats were im
mediately hoisted in, the Hornet weigned her
anchors, and a moment before dark, stood olf
tesea under close-reefed topsails—tlie norther
having fairly set in, and with great violence.
Two or three other vessels also put to sea at
the same time. He saw her still standing
to the eastward until night and the storm
closed the view forever.
It was after tlie lapse of several years tliat
in the city of Tampico, I was repeating to
severe! of my countrymen—sea-captains and
others—the statement of Dr. , relative
to the Hornet. The relation being ended, one
of tlie persons present, Captain , well
known as having been many years in the
trade between Tam pice and" New-Orleans,
informed us that be was in command of one of
the schooners which lay off the bar ofTampi-j
co, and put to sea with tlie Hornet that evening.
He stated that tlie wind commenced blowing
violently from the north: hence it had been
considered merely a norther of unusual vio
lence. Such he said, was not the fact, but
that it partook more of the character of the
West India hurricane ; for that, between eight
and nine at night, the wind suddenly shitted
.from north, or north-northwest, to southeast;
and the change was made with such violence
that his vessel, being in ballast only, was in
stantly thrown on her beam ends, when he
was in imminent danger .and momentary .ex
pectation of miserably perishing. With the
closing of night he had lost sight of the Hornet
and other vessels.
On that awful night, while clinging to the
rigging ofhis capsized vessel, which it requi
red the utmost exertion of Ins strength to ef
fect, the sea having been lashed into fury by
the opposing winds, amid the roar of the tem
pest and rush of waters, suddenly arose above
the storm the shrill sound of the %oatswaiu’s
call. He was instantly awa eof the proxim
ity of the Hornet, and suddenly she hurst in
sight, scudding north or quartering before the
gale; for a moment it appeared to him she was
bent on his annihilation, to run him over and
down ; he essayed to hail. Bootless effort !
J Before his stifled words were half uttered, un
; heard and unseen, he was passed within twon
j ty feet hy the I lornct—the last tin e, probahly,
! that ever human eves, other than those fated
:to perish with her, beheld her. She came nnd
went like a phantom ship, lie could have al
most touched lier, so close did the approxima
tion seem. I asked, did he or could he note
j at such a lime, the appearance of the vessel ?
j remarking that any recollection of hi* might
tend to elucidate the loss of the vessel. He
j replied, her topgr ilant masts had been lient
; down, that tier lower yards were on tlie gun
-1 wale, or lianging hy tlie gear*, and that slic
THE SOUTHERN POST.
was scudding without a stitch of canvass set.
He supposed, and-l think truly, that she either
plunged beneath the heavy sea, which had
been got up by the nortli-wind in the first part
of tlie hurricane, or was swamped by the top
pling of the cross sea before which the fatal
attempt was made to seud ; but preoably not
until an attempt had been made to lie to, which
the change of wind, and the Hornet being a
low single-dccked vessel, made impracticable.
The Captain stated that he was relieved the
following day by one of the schooners which
sailed in company, and had triumphantly rode
out the storm.
In confirmation of the above statements, I
was informed at that time, while in Tampico,
by Mr. Crawford, the then British Consul, that
he had been on board the Hornet, and had
breakfasted with Capt. Norris on the day pro
ceeding her loss. A British packet was in the
offing, and he was on his way to board her,
when, being too distant at the time from the
land, he went on board the Hornet, and was
hospitably received and entertained by Captain
Norris. He left the Hornet in the forenoon,
and proceeded to the packet, wliere lie was
caught by the norther, and remained on board
for several days. Heconfirmed the statement
of the Captain—of the wind having commen
‘cefi fronvthe northward, nnd-euddenly veering
to southeast ’He described the storm as being
similar, in every respect, to the hurricanes of
the West Indies, which are known to blow in
quick succession from opposite points of the
ermpnss. I had always intended, some time
or other, to give publicity to the facts above
related, and do not regret that my attention
has been recalled to the subject, though a pain
ful one. W.
From the Knickerbocker.
We must make room for a Texian corres
pondent, who is quite right in suspecting, ‘that
many of the more authentic, curious, and inter
esting details, that float in -conversation, con
cerning the ‘republic’ and her history, never
appear in print;’ narratives of adventure,
reminiscences, general intelligence, anecdotes,
etc., * which,’ he writes, ‘ need only to be pet
eolated and crystalized, by such pens as those
of your cones londents living and Cooper,
to attract universal attention.’ Perhaps so;
but be that ns it may, they are certainly new
facts and interesting, in the annexed' little
sketch:
THE RED ROVERS.
Dr. S , ofCourtland, Alabama, a native
of Virginia, raised a company of cigity young
men, who were called the ‘ Red Rovers,’ from
the color of the blanket great-coats which they
wore. In this company were a son and a
nephew of the captain. Dr. S , with his
‘Red Rovers,’ was with Fanning when he
surrendered; and in common with the other
officers, he strongly opposed the surrender,
having no confidence in the Mexican faith.
But Fanning was resolved; and when lie
made known his decision, the captain and one
or two officers shed Tears. Their fine is well
known. They were marched oul from a fort,
wliere they were confined, under various
pretexts ; now they were ‘to lie taken to Co
pano, a neighboring sea-port, to be shipped
back home to the United States;’ and again
they were ‘sent out to drive in cattle to the
foit. They had not proceeded far, however,
before they were ordered lo hault, and -next to
wheel to the right about, so as to stand with
their backs to the Mcxfcan lir e. The orders
were given in Spanish. The number of the
Texian volunteers was about four hundred,
and of tlie Mexicans, about tlie snme. The
two lines stood about three feet apart, there
being tufty a brush fenos between them.
Nearly all the prisoners were massacred ; a
few made their-escape. Among the victims
®f this slaughter, -were the Red Rovers, and
among them the son of the commander, who
with himself spared, probably for the sake of
his professional services; and his nephew owed
his escape to sickness, which prevented his
marching, although he was anxious to accom
pany them, supposing they were about to re
turn home. Fanning, poor fellow ! received
tlie melancholy distinction of being shot alone.
He was a brave man, and died like a soldier,
merely requesting not to have his eyes ban
daged, and desiring his watch and miniature
to be given to his mother. He was a graduate
of Princeton College. There was a jealousy
subsisting between Fanning and Houston, and
a wTmt of concert. Houston repeatedly sent
word to him to join but he refused, de
claring that he wished to fight “ on his own
hook.” This w-'s the grand faux pas in
Texas. The scattered parties ought to have
concentrated under Houston ; they did not,
and were cut off‘singulatim.’
I was walking the streets of Tuscumbia,
shortly after the massacre of Copano, when I
saw a dense crowd of people around a young
man, one of the ‘Red Rovers,’ who had escaped.
He had lost a brother in the massacre, and
spoke with great bitterness of the Mexicans.
He gave some account of his adventures, and
answered divers questions that were propoun
ded to him. He owed his safety to the fact,
that he belonged to the van-guard of Fanning’s
corps, consisting of some twe. ty or thirty who
were separated from the main body, at the
time of the surrender. I met, on the same
occasion, another Texian volunteer, who had
also belonged to the advance guard, whom I
recognized as a former acquaintance. ID
was a native of South Carolina; but at the
time the Texian fever was at its height, be
quitted school, bought a rifle, and marched
with the ‘ Red Rovers,’ in search of land and
■ glory ’ His brother who went out with him,
I had also escaped, with two wounds. He was
among the-massacred, but being only slightly
wounded, .ran ; he was pursued by a Mexican
soldier, who was fast gaining on him, when he
j threw down his gold watch, which the Mexi
can, with characteristic pold.greodiness, stop
ped to pick up, and he succeeded in making
his way to the tall grass, that effectually con
cealed him. After enduring many hardships,
he at last effected his return to the United
States.
I subsequently saw Dr. S at Tuscum
bia <>n his return. He had had a hard time of
it. He looked pale and emaciated, and bore
tlie marks of the galling fetters lie had worn
on his ancles. The people of the town flocked
around, to shake hand* with him, and welcome
his r -turn. It was deemed certain that lie had
shared the fate of his companions in arms, and
he was regarded as one risen from the dead.
He was spared on account of his being a sur
geon, aided by a little finesse on his part. ‘He
was travelling in Texas,’ he said,’ ‘ merely to
look at the country, when fie was pressed into
the service, in the capacity of surgeon The
Mexican commandant, at the fort were he was
confined, promised to discharge him on parole ;
but when applied to for a passport, put him off
from time to time. At length, be sent the
commandant word : ‘ Jfyou will notgrai tthe
passport, than let me be taken out and shot.
I had rather you would do this, tli in detain me
here any longer in suspense. You are wel
come to al' the credit you may gain by either
course.’ This produced a favorable effect on
the officer, who at once agreed to furnish him
with a passport to some town in the interior ;
one, however,-.which it was impossible to reacli
without great risk from the Indians on the
way.
At this conjuncture, suddenly came news of
the battle of San Jacinto. Reader you have
seen a pebble hurled by some mischievous
school-boy into the centre of a hornets’ nest,
dependent from the bough of some tall pine ?
Such was the.panic among the Mexicans.
Tile fort was*quickly evacuated, only a small
garrison being left with the wounded and
prisoners. Our captain then formed, with a
fellow physician and prisoner, a plan of escape.
They armed themselves ‘ cap-a-pie,’ with arms
belonging to officers of the fort, each bearing
a rifle, a brace of pistols, and a Bowie-knife.
They borrowed two fine horses, ready capa
rsioned from the stables, mounted them, and
fled. They lay concealed in the woods, or in
the tall grass of the piairie, during the day,
-travelling in the njght; and thus, after suffer
ing many privations and dangers, they at-last
-entered the happy limits of their own country.
Shortly after his arrival in Tuscumbia, the
drum was heard, and a party of the military
assembled to accompany him home. A can
non was mounted on a car, and fired every
mile, to his residence, twenty-two miles distant.
When he arrived, the whole population came
out to meet him, and among them his wife and
children. lie bore the whole scene with com
posure, until a little son can e up and grasped
him by the knee. At this he shed tears.
Painful return ! Os his ‘ Red Rovers,’ few
survived. Nearly all, mid among them his
son, were sacrificed. They had not died amid
-the ‘ shouts of battle, and the shock of arms ;’
they-w"re slaughtered, like cattle; immolated
in a Mexican hecatonlb !
THE BATTLE of KING’S MOUNTAIN.
INTERESTING REVOLUTIONARY DOCUMENT.
We have never seen the following in print
which we now publish from the original man
uscript, in the possession of a gentleman of
this town. It gives an account-of a brilliant
affair in our Revolution, drawn up at'the time
by the chief actors in it, and expressed in the
plain strong style that belonged to the period.
This, with very many other battles ii; the South
has never attracted tlie applause, or attained
the historical notoriety which have attended the
Revolutionary incidents of similar magnitude,
in other quarters; and, indeed, so mud,
more has been written concerning the Revohi
tionary incidents of the North, and so much
more been done by the People and the States
in that section to commemorate and signalize
them, that the present generation in the neigh
borhood of Cowpens and King’s Mountain
know more about Bunker’s Hill and Lexing
ton, and more of Starke and Putnam, than of
Pickens or Campbell.
“ No monument, inscription-mono ;
Their race, their deeds, their names, almost unknown.”
W-e have always thought that those battle
fields in our State which were illustrated by tlie
gallantry and devotion of our ancestors should
be marked by permanent mementos, at the
cost of the State—every one, from Fort Moul
trie to King’s Mountain. And he who would
carry such a measure through the Legislature
would himself deserve a monument
Columbia (S. C.) Telescope.
“ A Statement of the proceedings of the Western Ar
my, from tlie 35ih day of September, 1780, to the re
duction of Major Ferguson and the Army under his
command.
“ Oil receiving intelligence that Major Fer
guson had advanced up as hjgh as Gilbert
Town, in Rutherford county, and threatened to
cross the mountains to the western waters,
Colonel William Campbell, with four hundred
men, from Washington county, Virginia ; Col.
Isaac Shelby,-with two hundred and forty men,
from Sullivan county, Nortli-Carolii a; and
Lieut. Colonel John Sevier, with two hundred
and forty men, from Washington county, N.
Carolina, assembled at Watauga on the 25th
day of September, where they were joined by
Col. Charles McDowell, with one hundred and
sixty men, from tlie counties of Burke and
Rutherford, who had fled before the enemy to
the Western waters. We began our march
on the 26th, and on the 30th we were joined
by Col. Cleveland, on the Catawba river, with
three hundred and fifty men from the counties
of Wilkes and 'Surry. No one officer having
properly a right to the command.in-ciiief, on
the first of October we despatched an express
to Major-GeneralGates, informing him of our
situation, and requested hrm to send a general
officer to take the command of tlie whole.—
In the mean time, Col. Campbell was chose i
to act as commandant till such general officer
should arrive. We marched to the Cowpens,
on Broad river, in South-Carolina, wliere we
were joined by Col. James Williams, with four
hundred men, on the evening of the 6th Octo
ber, who informed us that the enemy lay en
camped somewhere near the Cheroki e lord of
Broad river, about thirty miles distant from
us. By a council of the principal officers, it
was then thought advisable to pursue the ene
my that night with nine hundred of the best
horsemen, and leave the weak horse and foot
men to follow on as fast ns possible. We be
gan our march with 900 of the best men, about
eight o’clock the same evening, and, march
ing all night, came up with the enemy about
three o’clock, P. M. of the 7th, who lay en
camped on the topof"King’s Mountain, twelve
miles north of the Cherokee ford, in the confi.
dence that tliey could not lie forced from so
advantageous a post. 'Previous to tlie attack,
on our march, the following deposition was
made : t\il, Selby’s regiment formed a col- ‘
umn in the centre, on tlie left; Col. Campbell’s
regiment another on the right; part of Col.
Cleaveland’s regiment, headed by Major Win
ston and Col. Sevier’s regiment, formed a large
column, headed by Col. Cleveland himself, and
Col. Williams’ regiment, composed ttie left
wring. In this order we advanced, and got
within a quarter of a mile of tlie enemy before
we were discovered. Cols. Slielby’s and
Campbell’s regiments began the attack, and
kept up a fire on the enemy, while the right
and left wrings were advancing forward to sur
round them, which was done in about five min
utes, and tlie fire bpcame genera! all around.
Tlie engagement lasted an hour and five min
utes, tlie greater part of which time a heavy
and i icessaut fire was kept up on both sides.
Our meo, in some parts, where tlie regulars
fought, were obliged to give way a small dis
tance two or three times, but rallied and re
turned with additional ardor to the attack.—
The troops upon tlie summit having gained the
summit of the eminence, obliged the enemy to
retreat along the top of the ridge to where
Col. Cleveland commanded, and were there
stopped by his brave-men ; a flag was imme
diately hoisted by Captain D -poistnre, then
commanding officer, (Major Ferguson having
been killed a little before,) for a surrender.—
Our fire immedi; tely ceased, and the.enemy
laid down their arms, the greater part of them
charged, and surrendered themselves prison
ers to us at discretion.
“Itqppears from their own provision re
turns for that day, found in their camp, that
their whole force consisted of eleven hundred
and twenty-five men, out of which they sus
tained the following loss : Os the regulars, one
major, one captain, two sergeants, and fifteen
privates, killed; thirty five privates wounded,
left on the ground, notable to march ; two
captains, four lieutenants, throe ensigns, otic
surgeon, five sergeants, three corporals, one
drummer, and forty-nine privates, taken pris
oners. Loss of the Tories : Two colonels,
three captains, and 201 privates, killed ; one
major and 127 privates wounded and left on
the ground, not able to march, one colonel,
twelve captains, eleven lieutenants, 2 ensigns,
one quarter-m<ister,one adjutant, two commis
saries, eighteen sergeants, and 600 privates,
taken prisoners. Total loss of the enemy, 1,-
105 men, at King’s Mountain.
“ Given under our hands, at camp.
'* VVM. CAMPBELL,
“ ISAAC SHELBY,
“ BEN J. CLEVELAND.”
THE ELOQUENCE OF THE WEST,
As contrasted with that of tlie East, presents
many striking peculiarities. The eloqucnc i
of the East is sober, passionless, condensed,
metaphysical; that of the West is free, lofty,
agitating, grand, impassioned. The East is
pure, chastened down to a defiance of critical
oensure, sharpened down to a fineness too ra
zor like to cleave the mountains or curve the
rocks; the West defies and transcends criti
cism—tin bosoms mighty thoughts, appl es mo-
I fives to human mind as strong as the rush of
a whivlwii and, in language varied yet strong,
and if ever defective, yet grand. The thoughts
!of the W. st are large. In the East, a river
means the brawling and foaming Meriimae,
I the mountain-ltd Ke.i nett.-c, or the poetic Con
necticut; in the West, tlie same word means
the proud flow of waves too wide to roar, and
cincturing half the Globe in their course. In
the East, a pi tin means a patch of earth hedg
ed in by circumambient mountains, defended
on either hand by rock and in the West,
a plain means an expanse of territory over
which tlie sun rises and sets tbiougli a thou
sand successive horizons, and above whose car
pet of verdure heaven spreads out half her
stars. In the East, a wind means a blast which
wrestles with the mountain beech or maple, or
plays fitfully .with the fallen snow ; in the West,
the same word means the roaring impulse
which accum 1 *e- "bout the head'waters of
thefar-wande g Missouri passes a distance
in which Europe and Asia might lie laid out
iu length an ! breadth, and pours its vast vol
ume of tornado into the Gulf of Mexico.
. Maffit’s Lecture.
ORIGINAL.
For the Southern Post.
TO iUISS C***\
There is a flower whose little form
Is seen where heroes lie forgot:
It blooms where raged the battle storm,
And speaks these words —Forget me not.
Oh ! take and wear'this emblem flower,
This badge of friendship's sacred thought—
When Fate reveals her darkest hour,
With this sweet bloom—Forget me not.
And when my doom with those is told.
Who have oblivion for their lot;
And when my name's with death enroll’d,
Oh 1 then I ask—Forget me not.
J wish no monument of art,
Na tomb to mark my burial spot;
If memory’s flower bloom in your heart.
Fair lady, then—Forget me not.
If bitter care should be 'life's.goal,
Or disappointments mark my lot,
They’d be unnoticed by my soul,
If lady, you—Forget me not.
But I must close—night's coming on,
And darkness soon will veil this spot:
Ere it is night I will be gone,
Farewell! Farewell!! —Forget me not!
T. J. M.
For the Southern Post.
THE RETURN.
Sweet Florida—land of my love,
Once more I've returned unto tlicc ;
Thou land of the myrtle and dove,
Give a welcome again unto me.
Once more Hi thy sweet-scented bowers,
My foot#;ps with eagerness roam ;
I belong lathee, loved land of flow ers,
My brightest, most beautiful home.
The lii-arts that arc dt-aresi are here.
Then why should I leave thee again ?
W hen die prized and the lov'd ones are near
Who fears e-itlier sickness or pain ?
Ttu-n liad lo the bright sky above,
To the land of die oak and die sine;
Thou mayest choose oilier lands for dty lose,
Tho Florals, *hou, stl for mine P K, f '
For die Soutl, ern Po,.
TO PHILOCLE i.
Poets have sting of the magic that lies
In beautiful flowers and glorious eyes;
But the joys for me, as given by thee *'
W.th the look and the tone so tenderly breads
Thou beautiful one, I am never deceived
Yes-thou art the ivy that flings its embrace
Around the -aft oak with such exquisite grace
Sweet saint! Thy clasping arms
Shall bind, as fairy charms.
One who has never owned the spell
Os woman’s love till now, farewell
c. v.
LETTERS FROM THE WEST INDIES No 12
TIIE EARTHQUAKE.
Fort Royal, Martinico, March, 1839
To the Editor of the Southern Post:
Dear Sir—As intimated to yon in my last, we left
Barbados on the evening of the 17th, and this mnrn ;
were off the Diamond Rock, a few miles below the "rs
.ranee to this Bay. Wiith a favorable trade to bringt
w.thm the point, and two or three stretches across ,)!
Bay we dropped our anchor alongside some America!
lumber vessels which were trading here with huildin"
materials, now in demand, to repair the ruined lown °
At the entrance to the Bay, or. a cliff above the poin,
a hide white spot attracted our attention, and proved
on examination, to be a small image of the Virgin
cured within an indenture in the rock, placed there
probahly hy s<nie pious French sailor, as a shrine
whence he could invoke protection on his voyages to
:he fatherland. Though we cannot but regret the in
security of-co gross an error, who would wound the
sensibility which induces an act of superstitious devo
lion to one so nearly allied to that Holy Saviour thru'
whose merits alone a lost world dare look to be resto
red to the favor of our Almighty Father.
Our first and distant view of the town did not indi
cate so general a destruction as we have heard, and
afterwards found had occurred, many buildings greatly
shattered, not having yet fallen down. The roofs front
a distance looked as if entire, but as soon as we reach
ed the shore, and their actual condition was apparent
it was indeed a deeply melancholy picture of de--truc.
tion. While the walls were in many places literally
rent asunder, they were only held up by their contigni
ty to each other, and the roofs and petitions tumbled
into one general chaos, others are flat to the ground,
some lost an end, others a side, while the balance were
left standing. The Governor’s House, a large twosto
ry building, a little outside of town, lost one entire end.
The entire front wall of the Government House in
town separated from the body of the building more than
twelve inches, but was braced up by strong timbers
which prevented the whole edifice from falling. The
upper part of the Hospital fell in and killed over ninety
of its inmates. It is impossible to get correct informs
.tion of the whole number killed, accounts of different
individuals on the spot vary from three to twelve hun
dred. After seeing the extent of devastation it is only
wonderful how it is possible that so few were destroy
ed, happening as it did, before the general hour of ri
sing in the morning, and without any previous warn
ing. It is a fearlul tale, when told hy the sufferers, and
would rend the stoutest heart. Mad'lle. Sarah Dela
va!, the landlady with whom we stopped, carried us
over the upper part of her house, the third story ofw hic'i
with part of the second, was nearly demolished, butt :e
inmates were mercifully spared their lives. She des
cribed the recking of the building as if the whole sur
face of the Island were moving like a heavy and mass
ive ship upon a troubled ocean, too large to rise with
every wave, hut feeling the genera! agitation of the su
blime and ponderous element.
This town, the Capital of the Island, must have been
one of the handsomest in the West Indies—it contain’
ed, as w-e learnt hy enquiry, about eight thousand in
habitants. It has a beautiful mall or parade ground of
several acres, enclosed with rows of the deep shading
tamarind—its streets are considerably wider than those
of St Pierre, which gives it more the appearance of an
American city. But what a devastation ? In the short
space of one minute, indeed short of that period, the
mighty power of an allwise but chastening God Vas
upon it; its massive foundations rocked, its ponderous
wr.lls, built to resist the tornadoes which often passover
those seas, crumbled and fell, and sudden and severe
anguish fell upon thousauds wholay down in their beds
in ease and affluence, nnd were awakened to feel the
depth of bitter bereavement, want and misery. Some
find shelter among the riaeaw, others have sought a re
fuge in other places, and it will be long indeed, if ever,
that this once cheerful spot shall regain its former pros
perity.
But while the mind sickens as we pass through tits
devastated streets and climb over the crumbled masses
of ruin, the eye may still find some relief, by admiring
the bold peaks and verdant vallies which, like an am
phitheatre, encompass the blighted city, around which
nature still blooms with her refreshing verdure, and
there are yet other circumstances connected with this
spot which recalls to my heart scenes that once awa
kened my youthful enthusiasm, and which may still
•find aplaoe within my recollection, when the thrilling
interest of the Earthquake’s destruction may have pass
ed from my memory. .1 was born and cradled during
the brightest of Buonaparte’s meteor-like career. Du
ring the earliest years of my education his sun of glory
had not yet set, and I cannot forget how my young
heart thrilled when I heard the oft told tale of his chi
valrous daring—nor was! less enthusiastic to hear as
sociated in his fame and honors, the lovely, amiable and
high-souied Josephine, whose happiness was sacrificed
at the shrine of a cold and selfish slate policy, to which
she yielded, as she did every other impulse of her heart,
a willing martyr to the desire of perpetuating the name
and dynasty of him who held her whole heart. Here
is the spot where she was born —here, in her career of
youthful loveliness, she tripped over the hills, the pride
of her fond parents; and here, under a tropica! sun,
grew up those gentle emotions which ripened in other
days into that devoted love that conquered and held in
its silken hands the Conqueror of Europe. There, said
my informant, pointing to a spot on the opposite side o
the Bay, “ Josephine was born—there her mother lies
buried—several of her relations are still living here, nod
it is but a few years sinee I heard her old nurse, (who
is still living,) tell the story of the fortune teller, at which
she was present, giving the prediction of the high des
tiny which she so nobly filled."
No marble tablet nor storied urn marks the birth
place of Josephine, but her memory is cherished in the
enthusiastic hearts of her Island countrymen, and but
a few months ago a plan was proposed, and but fur
having been arrested by the calamity which buried the
city in ruins, would probably have been carried into cl
feet, to erect a monument on this spot to her nietnw?-
In coincidence with these interesting circumstances,
within a few yards of us, lies quietly at anchorage, *
French man-of-war which, it is said here, carried
poleon from Elba to France, to reign the hundred da) *
previous to the final close of his high career. For t'
truth of this statement I cannot vouch, but she
beautiful little vessel of eighteen guns, was built an e
the direction of the great Emperor himself, nnd ihou,
now forty years old, and was hut a few months ’
the storming of St. Juan de 1 'lion, look* in C ' lU|l U
trim and order. How long might we dwell on th p
teresting associations which iliose circumstances <
to mind. The ashes of her Who charmed ad I*
commingles with the sod of Frence, the writes o
glory and close of her high destiny i while I*** l * * 1 t
amhmon, when living, deluged Europe in ’’
on an troll-bound rock in a distant sea, where •"
will probably, in a few m«»r« yean*, he none '