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The Southern post and literary aspirant. (Macon, Ga.) 1837-1837, September 30, 1837, Image 1

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THE SOUTHERN POST, AND LITERARY ASPIRANT. TWO DOLLARS IN ADVANCE—THREE DOLLARS AT THE END OF THE YEAR—SI 25 SIX MONTHS. C. R. EANBEITER & CO. assasegsi:aii.fflEosfs. For the Southern Post. RECOLLECTIONS OF A MEDICAL STUDENT. [continued.] As the reader has doubtless, tty this time, suspected the two stran gers alluded to, were none other than R and myself, who ha ving made every necessary pre paration, were now hastening to join our remaining associates at the oilice of our preceptor. On our arrival, Dr. B , our fellow student H , and three sturdy blackamoors, with certain formid able mattocks and spades, were all in readiness for the anticipated adventure. Scarce, however, was it announced that the hour had arrived for departure, than II began to show evident symptoms of backing out —making an awful complaint of his head, and men tioning sundry difficulties which seemingly lay in his path. Whilst I was contending with him upon the necessity of our going thro’ with the matter, now that we had commenced it, R seemed to have caught the panic to an ex tent, that ho too began to think of getting out of the scrape. To this I objected in such a strenuous manner, assisted by Dr. B , that both of them became ashamed of their cowardice, and declared themselves in readiness to go. It might he mentioned that one of our negroes w ho was significant ly known by the name of Big Sampson, had frequently been in resurrection scrapes, having pre viously belonged to a physician in a neighboring city. The rest of us knew little or nothing about it, save a few instances in which R had figured as the boasted hero. As for Dr B , lie left it entirely with ourselves, having no idea whatever of losing a com fortable night’s rest for the sake of a- human frame. It sufficed that he had promised to aid us in the dissection, and direct our un tutored knives to the consumma tion of some wondrous feats in the occult fields of anatomical sci ence. Notwithstanding a series of de lays had thus far interrupted our intended outset, the hour of 12 found us wending our way slowly and cautiously through the alleys and by-ways which, very opor tuncly intersected with the main streets, in the most public parts of the city. This manuvering was entirely necessary to save ourselves from suspicion, inas much as even at this late hour, be sides the watch, there were many wandering amatures of the glass. etc. who w ere to be seen prom enading the streets. It was a bleaky night, such a one as might be expected in February, both cold and rainy. And although Cynthia looked from between the fleecy clouds with an occasional smile lighting up our dark and still darkening pathway, with the sintillalions of her borrowed glo ry ; even this only tended to in crease our liabilities to detection and cause our deeds of obscurity to become more completely under the supervision of light. The regular pattering of the ram fa vored us considerably in not only obliterating our lootseps as fast as they were made, but also in the prospect it heid out to us of com pletely hiding any irregularities we might have made in the con struction of the mound, from the sexton’s more plastic hand. By thus continuing our routes in di vided companies, and carefully selecting the shadiest parts of the Jess travelled streets, we were en abled to make rapid progress on our w ay until we had passed thro’ the principle part of the city, and arrived on the banks of the beau tiful river, on either side of which it was erected. Here was seem ingly another obstruction in our way, but one w hich had before been carefully investigated and provided for by R and my self. At a recent freshet which properly deserved the title of a young Dencabion, the old bridge had been sw r ept, from its crazy foundation, and passengers had to cross the river in a ferry boat, about a quarter of a mile below. By this time, however, there had been erected the frame work of a new bridge, and several cills a bout. six inches in width stretched across the whole length of the river, over which we were ena bled to go without further hin drance. Passjpg through a con siderable villagelying on the east ern bank, and ascending the steep sides of a towering hill, brought us once more upon a level plain, where the grave yard was situa ted, as might have been seen more distinctly on a clearer night, stretching away in the distance to tne left of the winding road, which led us beside the huge w hite gate o O by which admittance was obtain ed into the gloomy abode of the shades. It was a moment of still ness and terror to our unpractised breasts, as these awful portals creaked heavily on their hinges, as if to forbid the entrance of li ving man into that hallowed re treat at so unusual an hour. It seemed to make a peculiarly dis tressing noise, in contrast with the silence that reigned as universal as the sable shadows of night, MACON, SEPTEMBER 30, 1837. save the barking of the village cur O o who had been roused from his bed by our untimely aggression. On arriving at the spot, where lay reposing in the sleep of death, the poor man whose body we were so anxious to secure, I could scarce help accusing myself for baseness, in aiding to tear away this humble possessor of his long home, from beside the little grave where his infant slumbered so sweetly. I could but fancy to myself that the injured spirits of father and child was hovering o’er the consecrated spot to chide the ruthless mortals that dared to in fringe upon the dormitories of the dead. Who knew but what my riads of kindred spirits united with them in their plaints to hea ven for vengeance on the sacri ligous hand that dared to effect tne adventurous deed. And tho’ dispossessed ot vocal organs by which to make impressions upon the senses of man, the Father of spirits knew well the solicitations ot his children and could punish where none dare say forbear.— With these solemn feelings hang ing around me I could but let fa’l a sincere prayer, that I might be forgiven lor this one deed, and promise to engage in no more of a similar nature lor the future.— Whatever were the feelings of myself or associates on this occa sion, we knew full well there was but little time lor reflection or parlaver ot any kind, and as such hastened to the performance o tiie labor winch lay before us.— Long and wel 1 did each of us ply mattock and spade, until tired na ture seemed almost exhausted, and yet there was but little pros pect ot bringing the matter to a speedy issue. The hours seem ed truly winged ; and, however slowly our performance was,they appeared to fly with increasing rapidity, until some of us began to suspect the glimmerings of the orient to drive us ingloriously from the field. It was an interval of time, to myself, truly distres sing : for, being appointed a watch,l stood in fearful suspense, with a cocked pistol in my hand, listening to every sound however feeble, that might fall upon the stilly air of night, and gazing up on any thing which might have the semblance of harm about it— a degree of morbid intensity which almost partook of delirium. The very crackling of a stick would startle me frequently from the midst of a confused and un pleasant rev.eiie ; ahd often I im agined the sound of approaching footsteps or the mingled murmur ot voices falling on my ear; hut these, by turns, were lost away, upon the feeling of my excited and VOLUME I.—NO. 5. over-refined sensibilities, until an other spectre would spring up in my immagination to give rise to new fears, and birth to still more alarming emotions. Thus tho night passed slowly and stealthi ly away, and our anxious hearts began to beat high with fears lest morning should break in upon us and find our work yet unfinished. At length, however, little Samp son, who had been m a state of perturbation all the night, while busily engaged with his mattock, made such a severe stroke as pen etrated to the coffin lid, and echo ed hack the hollow murmurings of the abode of silence in so truly a death-like sound as completely unmanned the bold adventurer ; without waiting to make any far tlier progress in search ot tho dead, he immediately * r p >ed his ma lock as if petrified io the spot. For some moments he was com pletely speechless, but soon evin ced the signs of returning life by the sudden trembling which took hold ol his mortal tenement, with all of the seeming severity it had done on a dissimilar occasion, when Felix arraigned before him the manacled apostle. The first words this trembling coward was heard to utter in a most piteous manner, were “ take me out, take me out,” as though he had been chained lor hours in a bank of snow, and was now on the verge of freezing to death. We per mitted the fellow to have his way, !»>r it was evident he would an swer no purpose where he was ; and his place was speedily suppli ed with Big Sampson, who being possessed of more bravery and skill, was not long in clearing a way the dirt from the coffin lid. This being completed, he made several unsuccessful attempts to pull it off, that he might come at the body, and immediately signi fied that he needed assistance.—- The question now arose who should be that luckless one. This I soon saw would rnv lot, in asmuch as all the others declared they would not do it; according ly, I jumped into the grave and added my strength to what had already been which soon effected our purpose in exposing to view the frightful contents of the coffin. One might better im agine than I describe mv feelings on being thus unceremoniously in troduced to the dead all wrapped in his winding sheet in such a gloomy narrow cell as that.— They were truly of an awful and unearthly cast. Bur now it became necessary tor us to proceed farther in our operations on the body than we had as yet gone. I accordingly laid hold of ins head, which wao