A Friend of the family. (Savannah, Ga.) 1849-1???, October 05, 1850, Image 1

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iTI i\ : Tl- . - _ “ ——z—':—- -- aiLOIE 11. (ft Jmnii nf Clip futility, A Weekly Southern Newspaper, PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, BY iPVVARD J. PUIISE. terms: y 0 Dollars a year, in advance, or Two fifty if not paid within three months. jjCRIPTIONS RECEIVED FOR SIX MONTHS, AT ONE DOLLAR, IN ADVANCE. yee copies for one year, or one copy three yeors, - - - - - - -SSOO *ven Copies, - 100) prplve copies, 00 • t * Advertisements to n limited extent, f j!lbe inserted nf the rate of 50 cents for a jqaare of twelve lines or less, for the first in „rtion, and 30 cents for each subsequent jip tion. business cards inserted fora yeai lt Five Dollars. fTA liberal discount will be made to Post ([isrers who will do us the favor to act as postmasters are authorized to remit nio ;f i to Publishers and ail money mailed in ,-osence of the Postmaster, and (July for jn-ded o him, is at our risk. All communications to be addressed ’ost paid) to E. J. PURSE, Savannah. Go. book and job printing. GEO. N. NICHOLS, ()mt Building, opposite the Pulaski House.) SAVANNAH, CA. ; ( prvpnrpd to execute all work in bis line, with neatness and despatch, and in a styh? not to be surpass*-,1. I Frees as reasonable as any other establishment j,:ilie city. lv sort 28 JOHN - F. SHEEN, pSHIONABLE TAIL OR , : OverJ. M. ILiywnmFs Hair Dressing Saloon, OPPOSITE THE PULVSKI HOUSE, lattit'f, Mend ins and Clennin™ Hone with neatness aJdespatch. \\ ink m ide up as cheap as at any or establishment in th ‘ eitv. sep* 21 J. HASBROUCK & CO., W holesnlc and Retail Dealers in IftA, GLASS AftD EAR THE ft WARE, |opt 21 BROUGHTON STREET, SAVANNAH. McARTHOR & MORSE, Manufacturers and Dealers in WIN, JAPANNED & BLOCK TIN WARE, HOLLOW &l ENAMELLED WARE, STOVES AND COOKING RANGES, Inc PirE. Sheet Lead. Copper and Zinc, STORE, 13 BARNARD STREET. All kinds of Copper, Tin arid Sheet I ton Work, unf in the best niaancr, at the shortest notice. ,?pt 21 lvr JOHN OLIVER, HOUSE AND SIGN PAINTER, GILDER, GLAZIER, &c., Si. 121 Broughton Street, a J>‘V* doors east of Whitaker Street, Savannah, G<z. ry All kinds of Paints—Paint Oil, Turpentine, ‘’midi. Glass. Putty. &<*.. for sale. julv ~0 EDWARD G. WILSON, JUSTICE OF THE PEACE, Cm tuancer, Collector. Accountant dp Copyist, Otfice under .1. M. liavwMcl s. IV Ret urn Day, Wed :i sd ay, O*. t< ber 23d. J. DE MARTIN, DEALER IN Fruits, Wines, Liquors, Segnrs. PICKLES, PRESERVES and GARDEN SEEDS. —: also : APPLES, ONIONS 4- POTATOES, in season, received ficsh by every vessel. —: AL'O: Ontert put vpto order in from 1 to 10 gallon Legs. Coiner of Bay and Whitaker Streets, I _ SAVANNAH, GA. JOHN V. TARVER, factor 4. commission merchant exchange wharf, savannah, GA. RABUN 8c FULTON, I COMMISSION MERCHANTS, No. 207 Bay Street, Savannah, Ga. ‘ v - RAEUN, R. L. FULTON, I. F WHITEHEAD. lanier house, BY LANIER & SON, June 22 Macon, Georgia. S. Y. LEVY, ATTO RN E Y A T LAW, Office, No. ISS Bav-Sireet. E. T. SHEFTALL, ATTORNEY at law. may 25 dcblin, Georgia. MEDICAL NOTICE. DOCTOR MOREL. Office No. 157 Brough ton Street. ts mar FRANCIS WAVER, IMPORTING & COMMISSION MERCHANT, No ]O7 Bay Street, Savannah, Geo. ALLEN & BALL, FACTORS & COMMISSION MERCHANTS, No. 112 BAY STREET, SAVANNAH, GA. J. M. BALL & CO., Commission jHtrcftant*, MACON, GEORGIA. lOBERT A. ALLEN, JAMES M. BALL, ■ept 20 E v SAMUEL S. MILLER, MAN K CTUKLR OF CARRIAGES AND WAGONS, DEALER IN KUHS, SPOKES, FELLOES, Sc c. No. 140 Broughton St., Savannah. J. T. JONES. MANUFACTURER AND DEALER IN Double & Single Guns, Rifles, &c., West Side of Monument Square. SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. gcantrj to y Inntrc mitt Hit, tjir Inns nf Ctmjifrantf, <D&it jhiiiitnsijiji, Blnsnnnj miii (Uwnrrnl Untflligrarr” JONES & FxAFOT, Shipwrights, Spar Makers, AND CAULKERS. \ ard opposit? R. &. J. Lachlison’s Foundry. SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. R. H. DARBY, Ci Si * Corner Broughton and Whitaker Streets, SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. R* TI. D. is prepared to execute all orders for Making or Cutting on reasonable t('rms marl) jy PHILIP KfiAN, drape rand tailor, AND DEALER IX READY MADE CLOTHING. I enfield s Range, No. 98 Bryan Street, Store formerly occupied hy J Southwell &, Cos., SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. J. S. STURTEVANT, MAS TE R BUILDER, Corner Montgomery and Liberty Sts. Ai] orders in bis line will be promptly attended to, and faithlully executed jne 1 ” j y G. W HEDRICK, HOUSE AND SIGN PAINTER,, (iildcr, Glazier, Grainer & Paper Hanger. No. 12 Barnard Street, South ol the Market, IS always ready to execute nil orders in It is line with dispatch, and at the lowest prices. All k inds of mixed Paints. Glass and Putty kept ior sale. ]y r Dec 22 A SHORT, MASTER BUILDER, Will tike contracts for Building and Work in Masonry o| ev<*ry description. Cornel of South Broad and Wliittker sire< ts. may 2G CONTRACTOR AND BUILDER. I lie subscriber is prepared to execute with neatness and despatch till work in the above line. 142 Broughton St. Two Doors W. st of I. W. MORRELL’S Furniture Store. I. SOLOMONS, Agent. jnne 1 1 yr CLOTHING* PIERSON & HE IDT offer for sale CLOTHING, W hoiesale and Retail, at New York prices. No. 10 W hitaker Street. apl 2(i G M. GRIFFEN. HAVING pmc-h-ised tlie slock in trade of $ theluto M. Eastman, would solicit the con iniied patronage oi all the friends of the establishment. All customers shall be pleased with goods and satisfied with prices. GEO. M. GRIFFEN. N. B.—Watches and Chroniclers will receive the pci snnul at'.ention of Mr. G., as usual. s pt 21 - , DR. J. DEIST an IS, BOTA N1 C DRUGG IS T , Next door above L. C. Waiven &. Cos, Augusta, Ga. Keeps constantly on hand a choice assortment* selected from the best establishments in the United States, consisting of Emetics, Cathartics, Diapho retics, Diuretics. Expectorants. Envnrnnsroeui*-, Stimuiants, To. ics, Astringents, i\ei vines, Alku fi.'s, Alteratives, Ruhefiicients, and Compounds for family us*?. Composition Powder, No. 8;x, L"bclia in its various preparations, &<•., also Medical Books. nitty 4 .ALFRED HAYWOOD. COHN Ell DU VAN AND BARN A Hit STREETS, j Market Square, Savannah, Dealer in Chuiee FRUITS, CANDIES. NUTS, ORANGES, LEMONS, AITLES, AND PO TATOE6 YV Holer-ole and Retail. First quality ThnncL rbolt Oysters, Fish, See. Newaik retined Chanipaigno Cider, and Albany Cream Al<-, bv the bbl. . Orders from the Country, accompanied by tue cash or City reference, punctually attended to u’lg 9 GAS PIFBS AND FIXTURES. STRATTON & DOBSON, Having received an assortment of Chandeliers, L’endams, Brackets and Lettable Gis Burners, respectfully invite th<* citizens of Savannah to rail sit their store. No. 72 St. Julian street, su'd examine the same 4t iune 1 JOHN MALLSRY, DRAPER. AND TAILOR, Xo. 5-5 Buy-st. joining the City Hotel. Invites tlie attention to his Stock of New and Seasonable Goods, now opening-, consisting of choice READY MADE CLOTHING and 1 UR NISHING GOODS, comprising every uitittle of Gentlemen's apparel. Also, n ful supply es CLOTHS, CASS IME RES and VESTINGS, of various shades and qualities —which tviil he made to order in the modi ap proved style, by competent ad experienced \V- u krnen, wan anted to give entire satisfaction, and at prices to suit the times net 18 BATHING HOUSE. J. M. HAYWOOD respectfully informs the gen tlemen of Savannah, and strangers, that his warm, cold and shower bailiing rooms art* now ready, and will be constantiy open, east side of tV Tu laski House, adjoining liis ILtir Dressing Room. Price of BntliitiY 25 cents N- B. 1 am now prepared to receive yearly customer'. Prices reasonable, according to bow many times they may bathe per week. sept 14 J M. H. A. CARD. A lady educated in London and Paris, a good Musician, Sieger, Drauglits-uomnn, and Painter, uho speaks the French language in all its purity, desires a situation either in a School or private family. Terms moderate —leferenCes most re spectable. A line addressed to this office, care of E. J. Purse, for D’Esie Smyth, will be attended to im mediately. June 29 A CARD. The Undersigned having ie-opened with nn entire N. w Stock of DRUGS, CHEMICALS, AND FANCY ARTICLES, at No. 139 (South Side) Broughton street, (foimerly Walker’s Marble Yard) is now ready to fumisu anything in his line at the shortest notice. SODA WATER, made in bis own peculiar way, sent to any part of the city, and always to he had at the store in the highest state of perfection. Prescriptions put up with care and despatch. The Subscriber having served the public long and faithfully, respectfully solicits a share of their patronage. 1 may 11 THOS. RYEHSON. SAVANNAH, GA.. SATURDAY, OCTOBER'S, 1850. frlrrtrii Calf. THE SICKNESS AND HEALTH OF THE PEOPLE OF BLEABURN. IN THREE PARTS —CHAP. I. It was not often liiat anv thing happened to enliven ihe village of Bled burn, in ‘VorKshirei bur ihere was a day in ihe summer of’ ISII, when tlie inhabitants were roused i born their apathy, and hardlv knew J themselves. A stranger was once heard to say, a tier some accident bad compelled him to pass ill rough Bleaburn, that lie saw nothing there but a blacksmith asleep, and a cou ple ofrahbiis hung up by the heels. 1 hat the blacksmith was wholly asleep at midday might indicate that there was a public house in that pdace ; but even there, in that live liest and most intellectual spot in a country village of those days,—the ale-house kitchen - —the people sat hah asleep. Sodden with beer, and almost without ideas and interests, let indolence Creep over them ; and there they sat, as quiet a set of cus tomers as ever landlord had to deal with. For one thing, they were al most all old or elderly men. The boys were out after the rabbits on the neighbouring moor; and the young men were far away. A re cruiting party bad met with unusual success, for two successive years— (now sometime since)—-in inducing the men of Bleaburn to enter the king’s service. In a place where nobody was very wise, and every body was very dull, the drum and fife, the soldierly march, the scar let coals, ihe gay ribbons, the drink and ilie pay, had charms which can hardly be conceived of by dwell ers in towns, to whose eyes and cars something new is presented every day. Several men went from Blea burn to be soldiers, and Bleaburn was declared to be a loyal place ; and many who had never before heard of ils existence, spoke of it now as a bright example of attach ment, and devotion to the throne in a most disloyal nge. While through out tlie manufacturing districts ihe people were breaking machinery— while on these very Yorkshire hills they were drilling their armed Ibi ces— while the moneyed men were grumbling at the taxes, and at the war in fßpain, whence, for a long lime, they had heard of many dis asters and no victories; and w hile ihe hungry labourers in town and country were asking how they were to buy bread when wheat was sell ing at 955. the quarter, and while ihere were grave apprehensions of night-burnings of the corn maga zines, the village of Bleaburn, which could not be seen without being ex pressly sought, was sending up strong men out of its cleft of the hills, to fight the battles of their country. Perhaps the chief reason of the loyally, as well as the quietness of Bleaburn, was its lying in a cleft of the hills; in a fissure so deej) and narrow, that a traveller in a chaise might easily pass near it without perceiving that there was any set tlement at all, unless it was in the morning when the people were lighting their fires, or on ihe night of such a day as lhat on which our story opens. In Hie one case, the smoke issuing from the clefi, might hint of habitations: in ihe other, ihe noise and ruddy light, would leave no doubt of there being some body there. There was, at last, a victory in Spain. The news of the bailie of Albuerahad arrived ; and it spread abroad over die kingdom, lighting up bonfires in tlie streets, and millions of candles in windows, he lore people had time to learn at what cost tliis victory was obtained, and how very nearly it had been a fatal defeat, or any thing about it, in short. If they had known the fact that while our allies, the Span iards, Portuguese and Germans suf fered but moderately, die British were slaughtered as horrible as they could have been under deleat: so that, out of six thousand men who went up the hill, only fifteen hun dred were left standing at the top, the people might have let their bon fires burn out as soon as they would and might have put out their can dles that mourners might weep in darkness. But they burst into re joicing first, and learned details af | ter wards. Every boy in Bleaburn forgot the rabbits dial day .All were busy get ting in wood for the bonfire. Not a swinging shutter, not a loose pale, not a bit of plank, or rickerty gate, or shaking footbridge escaped their clinches. Where they hid .their slock during the day, nobody knew ; but there w as a mighty pile at dusk. It was then dial poor Widow Stan ley, stealing out to close her shut ter, because she could not bear ihe sound of rejoicing, nor the sight of her neighbours abroad in the ruddy light,found that her shutter was gone. All day, she had been in the loft lest she should see anybody ; for the clergyman had been to tell her dial heq son Harry had been shot as a deserter, Fhe had refused to believe it at first; but Mr. Finch had explained to her that the soldiers in Spain had suffered so cruelly from hunger, and want of shoes and of every comfort, that hundreds of them bad gone into the lowms to avoid starvation; and then, when the towns were taken by the allies, such British soldiers as were found, and were declared to have no busi ness there, were treated as deserters, for an example, lt was some com fort that Mr. Finch did not think that Harry had done any thing very wicked ; but Mrs. Slaney could not meet any one, nor bear the flaring light on her celling; so she went up to the loft again, and cried all night in the dark. Farmer Neale was the wonder of the place this evening. He was more gracious than any body, though there was nobody who was not, at all times afraid of him. When he was seen striding down die steep narrow street, the little boys hid 1 hem selves. They had not been able to resist altogether the temptation of dry thorns in his fences, and of the chips which had still lain about where his winter fell ing had been done, and they con cluded he was come now to give them a rough handling but they found themselves mistaken. He was in high good-humour, sending such boys as lie could catch wtiti orders upon his people at home for a tar barrel and a whole loud of faggots. “Tis hardly natural, though, is it?” said Mrs. Biililer to Ann War render. “Ii does not seem natural for any father to rejoice in a vie’ory when his own son has lost his best leg ihere.” “Has Jack Neale lost his leg? O! what a thing !” exclaimed Ann Warrender. {She was going on, O O but she perceived that the farmer had heart] her. “Yes,” said he, without any sound of heart-pain in his voice. “Jack has lost his tight leg, Mr. Finch tells me. And 1 tell Mr. Finch, it is almost a pity the other did not go after it. He deserved no more good ofeither of them when he had let them do such a thing as carrv him off from his home and his duty ” “How can you, Mr. Neale?” burst out both the women. “How can i do what, mv dears? One thing 1 can do; and that is, see when an unduliful son is proper ly punished. He must live on his pension, however : he can be of no use to trie, now ; and 1 can’t be bur dened wiih a cripple at home.” “I don't think he will ask you,’ Mrs. Biililer said. “He was none so happy there before as to want to come again.” Ann Warrender told this speech to her father afterwards as the se verest she had ever heard from Mrs. Biililer; and they agreed that it was very hold, considering that Billiter was one of Farmer Neale’s labour ers. But they also agreed that it was enough to stir up flesh and blond io see a man made hear.ty and good-humoured by misfortune bav in” befallen a son who nad offended him. After all, poor Jack Neale had runaway onlv because he could not hear his father’s tyranny. Two more of the Bleaburn recruits had suffered —had been killed ought right ; one a widower, who, in his first grief, had left his babes with their grandmother, and gone to the wars ; and the other, an ignorant lout, who had been entrapped be cause he was tall and strong; had been fuddled with beer, flattered with talk of finery, and carried off before he could recover his slow wits. He was gone, and would soon be forgotten. “I say, Jem,” said Farmer Neale, when lie met the village idiot, Jem Johnson, shuffling along the street, staring at the lights: “you’re the wise man, after all : you’re the best off; my man.” W idow Johnson, who was just behind, put her arm in poor Jem’s and tried to make him move on. bhe was a stern woman; but she was as much disgusted at Farmer Neale’s hardnessas hertendcr-heart ed daughter, Mrs. Billiter, or any one else. “Good day, Mrs. Johnson,” said Neale. “You are better off for a son than lam after ail. Yours is not such a fool as to go and get his leg shot off, like mv precious son.” Mrs. Johnson looked him hard in die face, as she would a madman or a drunken man whom she meant to intimidate; and compelled her son to pass on. In truth. Farmer Neale was drunk with evil passions ; in such high spirits, that, when he found that ihe women—mothers of sons—would have nothing to sav to him to-day, he went to the public house, where he was pretty sure of being humoured by the men who de pended on his employment for bread, and on bis temper for much of the peace of their lives. On bisway he met theclergvman, and proposed to him to make a mer ry evening ofit. “If you will just step in at ihe Plough and Harrow, said he, “and tell us all you have heard about the victory, it will ; be the finest thing—just what the men want. And we will drink ! vour health, and the King’s and 1 Marshal Be esford’s, wh > won the; victory. Jt is a line occasion, Sir; an occasion to confirm the‘loyally of the people. You will come with me, fcjir V” * j “No,” replied Mr. Finch, “I have to go among another sort of people, Neale. If you have spirits s t make merry to-night, l own to you I have not. ictories that cost so much, do not make me very r rnerrv.” ‘‘(.Ah, fie, Mr. Finch ! How are v iu Lv 0 p ui* ‘•Kxrncier fm* loyalty, ifyou fail us —if you put on a black face in the hour of rejoic ing?” O ‘‘Just come with me,” said Mr. Finch, “and I can show you cause enough for heaviness of heart. In our small village, there is mourning in many houses. Three of our late neighbours are dead, and one of them in such a way as will break his mother’s heart.” “ And another has lost a leg, you are thinking. Out with it, Sir, and don’t he afraid of my feelings about i.t. Well, it is certain that Bleaburn lias suffered more than is the fair share of one place ; but we must be loyal.” “And so,” said Mr. Finch, “you are going to prepare more of your neighbors lo enlist, the next time a recruiting party comes this way. — Oh, I don’t say that men are not to ae encouraged to serve their king and country : but it seems to me lhat our place has done its duty well enough for the present. I wonder that you, as a farmer, do not con sider the rates, and dread the con sequences of having the women and children on our hands, if our able men get killed and maimed in the wars. 1 should have thought that the price of bread—” “ There, now, don’t let us talk about lhat!” said Neale; “ Y6u know that is a subject we never aerree about. We will let alone the price of bread for to-day.” Neale might easily forget this sore subject, and every other that was disagreeable to other people, in the jollity at the Plough and Har row, where there was an uproar of tipsy mirth for the greater part of the night. But Mr. Finch found little mirth among the people led at home in women, who lived hardly, knitting for eighteen hours out of the twen ty-four, and finding themselves less and less able to overtake the advan cing prices of the necessaries of life, had no great store of spirits to spend in rejoicing over victories, or anything else; and among them there was one who loved Jack Neale, and was beloved by him ; and others, who respected Widow Sianev, and could not countenance noisy mirth while she was sunk ijt horror and grief. They were hun gry enough, too, to look upon young ; Haney's death as an outrage. If hunger and nakedness had drived him into die shelter of a town, to avoid dying by the roadside, ft seemed to them that being idiot wan a hard punishment for the offence. Mr. L inch endeavored to show, in hackneyed language, what, the de reliction of duty really was, and how intolerable during warfare; but the end of it was that the neigh bors pitied the poor young mail the more, the more they dwelt upon his fate. As it turned out, Bleaburn made more sacrifices to the war than those ol the battle of Albuera, even before drum or fife was again com ing over the moor. The place had not been healthy before; and illness set in somewhat seriously after the excitements of the bonfire night, i he cold and wet spring had dis j couraged the whole kingdom about the harvest ; and in Bleaburn it had | done something more. Where there are stone houses, high winds | aggravate the damage of wet wea ther. The driven rain had been ; sucked in by the stone; and more | wet was absorbed from the fouu j dations, when the swollen stream had rushed down the hollow, and overflown into the houses, and the pigstyes, and every empty pla.ee into which it could run. Where there were glass windows and fires in the rooms, the panes were dewy, and the walls shiny with trickling drops; and in the cottages where there were no fires, the inhabitants were so chilly that they stuffed up every broken window-pane, and closed all chinks by which air could enter, in hopes of keeping them selves warm ; hut the floors were never really dry that summer, and even the beds had a chilly feel.— The best shoes showed mould be tween one Sunday and another; and the meal in the bin (of those YV bo were so fortunate as to have a meal-bin) did not keep well. Mr. Finch had talked a great deal about what was to be expected fivmsum mor tvpnihei* and the harvest; but a$ the weeks went on, there v\eic graver doubts about the harvest than there had been even while people were complaining at Easter, and shaking their heads at Whit sun tide ; arid when a few days of hot weather came at last, the peo ple of Bleaburn did not know ho\V to bear them at all. The dead rats and decaying matter whicli had been and posited by the spring overflow', made such a stench that people shut their windows closer than ever. Their choice now was between being broiled in the heat which was reflected from the sides of the cleft in which they'lived, and being shut into houses where the walls, floors, and windows were reeking with steam. The women, who sat still all day, knitting, had little chance for health in such abodes; and still less had such of the men as, already weakened by’ low diet, had surfeited themselves with beer on the nightof the rejoic ing, and broiled themselves in the heat of ibe bonfire, and fevered mind and body with shouting, and singing, and brawling, and been brought home to be laid upon mus ty straw, under a somewhat damp blanket. This excess was hardly more pernicious to some than de pression was to olhers. Those of the people at Bleaburn that had re ceived heart-wounds from the bat tle of Albuera, thought they could never care again for any personal troubles or privations; but they were not long in learning that they now suffered more than before, from loyv diet and every sort of discomfort.— They blamed themselves for being selfish; but this self-blame agafn made! he matter worse. They had lost a hope which had kept them up. They were not only in grief, but thoroughly discouraged. Their gloom Was increased by seeing that a change had come over Mr. Finch. Oil Sundays he looked so anxious, that it was enough to lower people’s spirits to go to church. His very voice was dismal, as he read the ser vice ; his sermon grew shorter al most every Sunday ; and it was about every thing that the people cared least about. He gave them discussions of doctrine, or dry mor rl essavs, which were as stones to them when they wanted the bread of consolation and the wine of hope. NUMBER si.