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About The Democrat. (Columbus, Ga.) 1830-18?? | View Entire Issue (March 12, 1831)
you will find our money in my bag; try tr i.uv out, an.i then an ii« k ;> Nor ni tody. It is a good country,” he coii'mued w.fh a faultering voice; “i leave you all I have there. “It ts here then you choose to fight,” said the Parisian, beginning to prepare. Norliert replied with a glance of con tempt. The day was almost gone, and a feeble ray shone for a moment on the cap of the young soldier as he raised it to unclasp the bands.—The evening breeze blew Ins black feather over bis face, but he del not look the paler for it. When he had strip} to his waist, one would not have guessed that there beat a young and vigorous heart, so entirely calm and self possessed did he appear. His antagonist vainly looked for the place where it did bear. The eyes of Norbert was firmer ami handsomer than ever; and if for a mo ment their expression saddened, it was when lie met the agitated ami bewilder- i ed look of his friend. Indeed, Tin bant was the most to he pitied, Norbert placed himself in position but suddenly returned to Thihaut. “Do not look so distressed,” lie said, smding and touching hie icy cheeks. Tlubaut threw hints -If ill his arms and endeavored to s.iatcii away ins sword; but no one, either in life or death, could tear it from the grasp of Norbert. “Have you almost finished,” exclaim ed the Parisian. “Place yourself, cow ard, or I charge.” NorVrt glanced at hint over his shoul der, folded up carefully the uniform that he had previously thrown on the ground, drew still tighter the buckle of his trow s rs, passe! Ins hand over his chest, and feeling with his lingers the end oflns sword, ak he pushed away with bis foot some loose stones around him. He did all slowly, and at but little distance from the Parisian; then suddenly went a little farther oil', fell in Ins position, and bend ing towards his enemy with looks of tire, spat twice in his face. A horrible curse—a dreadful blow, fell tli** s line tune from the hand «St mouth of the dn. 'h . But the Parisian Was not where he thought he was. Brave men have of ten s df-posscssion which adds lo their courage and inspires them with sudden resources. Norbert well knew chat he was lost if he attempted to imitate his en emv and meddle with feucoig; therefore, lea . : - ig his position like a wolf, that after a in neat’s delay springs on its prey, cl isp ng his sword in his two hands, and un i. git as a stick, he sprang forward. Quick and active as possible, he seemed almost to float in the air around his ad versaiy; the ! itter, completely astounded, stood on the defensive. ’Twas the eom bai of an eagle with a serpent. the steel dazzled the duellist; shi ning as it did in the dusk of evening, and tur ii ig and mult plving in a thousand brilliant forms. Every motion seemed lo ! a a blow from the Parisian, which was warded off by the Norman; but the circle was so rapid that the blow and the coa iter-blow seemed to fly together. A id truly Norbert did well, for the Pa risian was entirely disconcerted. Active, robust,and experienced as he was, he was still at a loss how to repel the multitude of blows that followed in quick succession. Turning, twisting, bending, almost ex t.Mlling himself on the ground—nothing w >uld do; Norbert was as quick, as vigil ant, as ever: he threw back his adversary 1 kfi a boar defending himself against a pack of dog3; he surrounded him with the terrible movements of his sword, like a ni in caught between the wheels of sever al chariots crossing one another. r*\:sh him Norbert! But the Parisian was an intrepid, vigorous and selt-pos sess; I enemy. He soon recovered him self, an 1 excited by finding himself, m th £ i w situation, he whom the habit of fighting in a certain manner, and without dinger, had, in some degree, made, indifferent, soon found in his intrepidity and presence of mind, resources against this unexpected attack. H ■ redouble l his vigilance, acting bv tuns on the offensive and defensive, re turning and giving the blows. But the conscript had already made him retreat twiT-e. The hieliist foamed with rage, an and he was so pale, one would have thought that the sword of Norbert had already drawn all his blood. V hollow murmur in his teeth, succeeded to the abuse lie h; 1 before mingled with his blows. The no: -f of their meeting swords sounding lik- the step of a horse on a stone. The sn irks tliev emitted, scarcely as brilliant as those that darted from the eyes of the combatants: the trembling uncertain breath of the seconds, particularly of Thi baut —and in the hack ground the joyful sounding of a village fete; it was awtui; it was beautiful. The combat had lasted for some mo ments; every second becoming more frightful, for the issue could not long he doubtful: even a minute seems long, when each second is marked hv a blow, which may he the last, and when two meeting blades sound rather differently fro si tinkling brass. St 11 no blood ran hut that of the Paris ian, a large wound in the left shoulder gauing like a woman’s sleeve. Fj mush, enough! cried his second. Tnib-nit advanced to throw himself !»e --tweeu them, but suddenly stopped and clasped Ivs ban Is, for the sword of Nor b -rt fell on bis antagonist’s bead as if it would cleave it in two; and the weapon r lised against it, he has seen it—ves he his seen it fall under the heavy Mow of the Norman. Oh! no, Thibauf,. it* was tlr-n von were to he pitied: as for v arhert, h ■ was already dead, when he fell to the j ground. j Alas, yes! stone dead. A motion, quick as lightning, had saved the Parisian, and while his enemy, drawn forward by the force of his own blow, still stood with his hands thrust towards him, the sword of the duellist has passed under the arms of Norbert, and stopped forever the beating of that brave, nianlV, and affectionate heart. The duellist threw himself against a tree, exhausted, and gazed steadfastly at the corpse; he had killed many a one be fore too, suddenly clasping his sword which hung dripping bv his side—“ Co ward,” exclaimed lie ferociously to Thihaut, “if you had done your duty, I should not have minded killing such a dog as you. Thihaut did not hear. The Parisian’s second tried to drag him away, saying, “come, come, it is all over.” Thihaut did not hear. Did he see? Did he breathe? Still bending with clasp ed hands, gazing at Norbert, lying where be expected to see his enemy. Good God is it possible/ Does he no longer recog- nize him? He threw himself on his friend; the blood touched his lips, he sucked the wide and gaping wound; he tried to fee! some beating in that heart that had beat its last. He turned the body over; the wound pierced the back; it seemed to his bewildered and agitated mind to grow lar ger and larger. He let the body fall, and palled it bv the arm:—Norbert! Norbert! Oh what would he have given to have heard him only say, “good bye, my poor Thihaut?” Nothing—Nothing but death; silent, awful, immediate death. Those limbs, but a minute before so active, now stiff, immovable; those eyes so bright and fiery, now closed. That terrible enemy; that devoted friend—loving, hating, nothing more. His features still retained some expression of anger, but that was all; and the dogs might now freely come and insult the young soldier—killed for an offence which was not his—and a child might have taken his sword, had not the last blow twisted his fingers more firmly around •ts hilt. llovv could it all have taken place so soon? What is wanting to that corpse? i He is young, vigorous. Thihaut could j hardly raise him. D spair has some- j times strange fancies. He suddenly! snatched the sword of Norbert, returned J it to its scabbard, lifted his cap, his uni-j form; nothing was forgotten. —With the j other arm he raised his friend, and thus loaded ran towards the hospital. The j two scabbards trailed on the ground. It j was the night. A voice exclaimed: “stop i the murderer.” “There,” said Thihaut to one of the guards, “you are a Norman, you knew Norbert: look at him now.” “Who murdered him?” exclaimed an other. Who murdered him? Thibaut was no longer him«elf. It was I he thought. It was the .risian—l did P -he did it. lie entered his room. The soldiers, had retired for the night. The Parisian had not returned: he was amusing him self. Thihaut flung himself on the bed where he used to sleep with Norbert. He heard the dragoons talk of the fight: he listened to their account of it: he heard the Parisian enter, hum a tune, take off his sword—snore. Thihaut drew himself up in bed, like a panther, ready to fail on its prev. lie rose, determ’ned to murder him: but one thing prevented him: he would wait till the next day; he would fight him; he would see him die. The night was a long one. He wept; he sobbed: he stretch ed and turned in that lied, meant for two. He hud not a moment’s rest. The next day, the roll was scarcely called, when Thibaut walked up to the Parisian, with a fearful smile—“ You kill ed him bravely,” said he—“that is noth ing; but you struck me; and I demand satisfaction. “ \h, ha!” replied the dragoon, “so it is death to the Normans now a davs—be gone conscript, I do not feel disposed at present.” “Will you not fight me!” said Thi baut joyfully, and clasping his cara bine. “Yes, yes man from duty; but take care I will send you to the one of yester day * * * “That is it,” replied Thibaut, “come alon<r.” “What, in such a hum ! Where do you mean to go?” “The snot of yesterday,” said Thibaut, in a tone that struck the duellist. “Such an idea” replied he, looking at the voting soldier: but lie could not laugh: and your second. “Yesterday’s man,” replied Thibaut “he alone for both of us! Come and .kill me well, otherwise you shall never kill another. Do vou understand? “Ob, keen quiet; it will not take me long to bleed a white chicken like you.” And Thibaut was as pale as if it had al readc killed the other one. This time the combat was not long. “Blows on the bead do not do your comrade much good,” said the duellist: “T will see what I ean do. It is so I mean to kill vou—Take care of your self.” i Ha, ha! Blows on the bead were not of much use to him either. Thibaut merely presented his left arm to the falling sword, but while it struck to the bone, h ; s, blessed be it! went twice through and through the Parisian. He fell, still brea things and it was well for him that the sword ofthe Norman remained in his bo dy, or bad Tlebaut held >t lie would have, made him Miffer dreadfully. The blade shock iu the wound. The l’aritiaa drew | it out; and his eyes for a moment opened to dart defiance to Ins oieiny. - . A first murder is esough to stun the most indifferent person; —-but 1 b.ibaut j thought of no ooebu* Norbert. llis satis fied rage would no longsr lie restrained; his heart beat alnost joyfully, ile pick ed up his sword, and Wiped: it with his fin gers liefore returning : it to its scabbard; and if tie helped the second to lift up the dragoon, it was to see nearer and to enjoy longer his last . convulsions. He would like to have thrown him, trampled him on the spot, wlnre lie haii seen Norbert lay lifeless. Put yourself in his place. From tha day it must be owned, Thi baut became a dangerous, pitiless man. The shock produced in him by all that is v iolent in grief and hatred; the happiness lie felt the frst time he committed murder; a remnant of rage and despair, which were associited with oilier emotions, he could not forget: —briefly, he became a fearful duelist; luit it was only against those who delight in spilling blood.—lie more than once protected ins more youth | ful comrades from them, j At times Tlubaut is pale and agitated, j Is it on account of the blood he has shed? j No, truly; it Is when lie thinks of one, who ! one evening received for him a gaping I wound through theheart; and it is always !in his thoughts. IVho could make him forget it? Norbert lied to defend him, and among so many living creatures, he will never find another like him. He does not seek one; and even should lie meet with one, most probably he would not care for it. Os the dead nothing remains to us but that void which nothing can fill. “ Gentlemen ” m Russia. The Rus sians do not un ierstaud what a mere gentleman means; and a person who re fuse to state his rank or profession is looked on with suspicion. 1 heard a friend of mine cross-questioned at Cron stadt as to wht*ie was; “I’m an English man,” he replied, “Wjiut c!an (rank) have von? said the police officer. “None.” “What is yqur profession?” I’m no profession : because I’m a private gentle man.” “But you must have had sone rank some time or other: and you must have been in business?” “I live on my property.” “But that Won’t do sir. In God’s name, what are you?” “Well then, I’m a magistrate of a county and a deputy lieutenant.” “Well, well, that will do: why did you not say so a* first?” A clever and facetious Scotch Doctor, settled at St. Pet< tvhurgh, was coming in from the country, and driving at a fu rious rate (with four horses abreast) thro’ one of the barriers, when the centry, as usual, . stopped him; a:ul thinking, bv his style of driving, that he was an offi cer of rank, vrifh great civility and sub mission, asked him v\ here he had come from, and what Ins rank was. He an swered, “Pin a tailor—sent for in a hur ry to repair General Rousomoulskv’s small clothes.” “A Tailor!” replied the sentry, (turning up his nose with con tempt,) “what did you drive so fast for? Your betters are only allowed to go at such a paCe. Be oft’ with you!” An Answer. —A pedagogue in Berk shire, not long since, inquired ‘what part of speech is Oh! and Ah!* or, ‘what is an Tnterjccion!' The lad not knowing, the knight of the rod at tempted to illustrate by again asking, ‘what you say if a man seized you violently by the arm?’ ‘Why, I should tell him' to let me alone, dar nation tpdek.' ■ We stern Enterprise. —Under this head, the New-,Orleans Mercantile mentions the arrival at that place of General Dodge, a citizen of Michigan Territory, near Green Bay. He is a trader to Nevv- Orleaus from the river Ouisconsin, in a boat navigated by himself, and laden with lead produced above Galena. He was a direct trader to the city of New-Orlear.s from one hundred and fifty miles above Fevre river one thousand miles above St. Louis, in all two thousand two hundred miles above the New-Orleans ordinary water navigation. The preseht Navy of the United States consists of *sl sail; carrying in all abou* 2,300 guns Os this force 12 are ships of the line, 16 frigates, 16 sloops of war, and 7 schooners, —a few of which are yet on the stocks. In a jonrnal, kept by Bvron, in Jan uary 1821, are the following remarkable sentences:—“The Powers mean war with the people. The intelligence seems pos itive—let it be so —The King's-times are fast finishing. There will be blood shed like water, and tears like mist, but the peo ple will conquer in the end. / shall not dive to see it, but I foresee it.” “ Three must be a universal Republic, and there ought to be." British Settlement on the North TFi sf Toast. —A commercial house in Boston, Daily Advertiser, that by letters from the Sandwich Islands, dated in Octo ber last, they are advised that the Hud son Bay Company have this season lost another vessel at the mouth of the Columbia River, called the Isabella, and that the Company have commenced a permanent settlement at Nass River, which empties into what is called on Vanronvers chart, Observatory Inlet—in 55 deg, N. L. 130 deg W. L. One hundred and fifty thousand dol lars of the Bank of the Commonwelth of Kentucky, were burnt ou the 4th ulf. in pursunnee of a resolution passed at the late tetcion of the leg lature. Com spondecce of the N. Y. Journal of t Commerce. WASHINGTON, Jan. 28th. 1c34. About the last November, 1830, I ac companied a citizen of New-York on a visit to a grave yard, called here, the “Anacotia Burial Ground,” but more ap prwpiately designated (by me) the West minister Abbey of the United States- Two years since, 1 visitpd the same spot, and sketched some memoranda to assist rne m a future recollection of it. —By its aid, and by the aid of my more recent notes, I am now enabled to furnish a de scription sufficiently accurate. The Westminister Abby of Washing ton, or if you prefer the more unpretend ing style, this grave-yard , is situated on the right bank of the Anacostia, more commonly known here by the name of the Eastern brach of the Potomac, lying one mile and a half east of the Capitol. It may be easily seen from the dome of the central budding. I had expected to be much mere intense ly occupied by a view of the sepulchral grounds, and their monumental testi monies, than was realised in the visit. Altho’ the tomb or tumulus, always uf fetes me with feelings and reflections of solemnity. The corpse of the deceased fellow mortal, whether shrouded in an humble coflin, or exhibited in state, nev er creates in my mind a tythe of the awe which ever subdues me when I look upon a grave no matter how old or how young, how august or how obscure the de parted may have been in life. The grave leaves all distinctions and reads to us a most solemn memorial of the whole human race who have gone before us, “All have dieil!' The grounds are in a rude state, inciosed by a pannelled brick wall, eight feet high, with several gate ways. I entered by a stile, at the North West corner; but for which, strangers would not find admittance, There is not a tenement near the premises, nor a janitor present to di rect the footsteps of the visiter. Having found myself among many humble graves I chose there to linger. The ten ants overtaken by death in this city of hamlets, were enjoy Pope’s first desire, “Steal from tliis world, nor let a stone tell where I be.” A few indeed are enclosed by brick, with plain marble slabs, bearing inscrip tion;* so ordinary as to afford no induce ment to transcribe them, especially when finding myself quivering under the-chilling influence of an angry and pitiless blast. Tired of this monotonous assem hh ige, I bent my way to those prouder columns which challenge inspection by their lofty contrast with the humble memontos , I had just left. These are the monumental dedications to men who had in their day acquired some distinction in the service of the country and are mostly the tombs of the de ceased members of Congress. They are principally, arranged in two par allel lines, at the Northern extremity of w hich are erected the monuments of George Clinton and Elbndge Gerry, late Vice Presidents of the U. States. They are both pyramided, one c.own ed with an iron, the other marble obflarne In the Eastern pannel of that of Clinton is a very beautifully executed bust, with a very simple memoir, which I trans cribed; but void of all interest to me, I tendered it to the winds as a peace offering, Streching Southwardly from the Vice-Presidents, arranged as before mentioned, are the tumuli of deceased members of both Houses of Congress, and a few distinguished sojourners, who have died at the seat of gov ernment, —the whole number amount ing perhaps to fifty. Those tumuli are erected upon one model, and are about five feet above the surface, including the plinth die and be.rge. All have some simple inserption such as “In memory of William Pinkney, Senator in Congress from the State of Maryland’” “In memo ry of General Thomas Blount, Re presentative in Congress from North- Carolina.” In the Western line I observed a monument to the memory of the late consort of Doctor Cutbush: and an other to the philanthropist of Kentucky, Mr. Morrison. In the same line lies the deceased daughter of the honora ble Justice Tompson of the Supreme Court of the United States. Near to her monument is the grave of major General Brown with a simple head stone. It would be tedious to remark upon the whole: but I cannot overlook the monuments of Pushmaotaha At Baron Grheume. The first has a hand some pyramid erected by his col leagues of the Choctaw nation. This aboriginal was an illustrious warrior the advocate of civilization and it all tri al the faithful friend of the United States. His dying words are inscribed on his monument. “When I am gone fire the big guns over me.” That of Baron Grheumewns erected by order of the King of Prussia. Ilis memory will not out live that of Push-ma-ta-ha. I do not find the depositories of Jackson, Baldwin, and Jones of Geor gia; but have been informed they were buried at Rack Creek Church three miles North of the Capitol; a mere maneger, where any i body and every body may preach or let it a lonc; there being no one to dispute the right of possession- Abraham Baldwin, James Jackson and Jame* Jones, ought to rest in our Westmuuste* Abbey. On the subject of the proceedings of the Maryland House of Delegates, relative to the Washington Rail Road bill, we find the follow 1 fig in informa tion in the Annapolis Republican of February 22: Kail Hoad from Baltimore to IFasA ington.—A bill originated in the Se nate, and was passed by that tody on Friday evening, authorizing the Balti more and Ohio Rad Road Crunpany to construct the road to Washington, was taken up for consideration by the House ot Delegates on Saturday. The provision reserving to the States the right to take any proportion, not ex ceeding one half of the capital stock, within one year after the completion of the road, was amended by strking out, ‘one half,’ and inserting three fourths. An additional section was also added reserving the right of the State, to levy such taxes upon the property of the. comp ;ny in tins road, as limy from tune to time lie levied upon other property w ithin this State, for the support ,of government. In dns form the bill was passed by the House. Ayes 46—Navs 12. 3 A proposition moved by Mr. Woot ten, to make it a condition, that upon accepting this law the Baltimore and Ohio Rail Road Company being sub ject to similar taxation, failed. The rail road bdl was again brought before the House of Delegates on yes terday by a motion of Mr. Stockets, for reconsideration. He moved that the sum to which u right on the part of the State to subscribe, should be limit ed, should be tw o of the amount of stock—this was determinated in the negative. It was then proposed that the right to subscribe to five eighths should be reserved, and determined in the affirmative. The Baltimore American sqys— “Since the above was put in type, we learn from a correspondent at Annap olis, that a bill has passed both Houses of the Legislature, providing for the construction of a Rail Road from Bal timore to Washington, by the Baltimore and Ohio Rail Road Company.” New- York, Feh. 22. THIRTEEN DAYS LATER FROM ENGLAND. THE POLISH REVOLUTION. Advices from Warsaw, through the German papers, are to the 31st' Decem ber. As to the prevailing feeling of the Polish people, not immediately within the influence and atmosphere o‘‘ the capital the accounts are widely different. For instance among other articles, represent ing the Polis to be ail actuated by one spirit, and that a spirit of enthusiasm in favor of the revolution, we have the following: “The Poles appear to be taking vigo rous measures for their defence, and the hostile preparations in progress bad cau sed the communication with Russia bv the frontiers of Terespol and Brezse, to be stopped. Some of the horses intend ed for the Polish cavalry, had fallen- into the hands of the Russians, hut other de tachments had arrived at Warsaw. On the other hand, we copy the fol lowing article from the London Morning Chronicle of Jan, 45th. Frontiers of Poland, Dec. 2(5.— -Aocgr- • ding to all accounts, the enthusiasm in * Poland for the new order of things is not now as great as might have been expec ted after the events at Warsaw. Six miles round the capital the people’s minds are greatly excited; and here is the real focus of the revolution, but the farther one goes from Warsaw, tiie more one is convinced that the wish for quiet and ' peaceful occupation predominates, and that the clang of arms of the bands of in- 1 surgents who pursue their plans in the capital is regarded with dislike. Emissa- | ries, have indeed, been despatched to all . quarters to excite the people, but their representations have in general been re- v ceived coldly, and only about Lublin they met with some inflammable spirits, who.. took up arms, and then dispersed about * the country. France. —Every thing upon the surface*! breathes peace and tranquility for the prc-.' sent. It is stated that the reception of* the Russian Ambassador, Pozzo di Bor-i go, by the King ofthe French, on occaft sion of the Minister’s presenting his let ters of credence, was of the wannest au<J most cordial kind. ~ The King had also received recen# communications from the Austrian court* which breathe the spirit of peace; and di those who have confidential access to thi palace are desired hy'the roVal family t* disseminate , the assiVraifbe', that there m the best reason.to believe that the peadfe of Europe will not fie disturbed. •> England.—State, of the country.—f t does -not appear that the burnings and destructions of machines had become lean frequent,' though the trials of those ami* ted were going on rapidly and severe sentences passed on a great number of them. It is understood that Sir William Gar row is about to retire from the Court of Exchequer; and that Sir William Horne, the present Solicitor General, will be the new Baron. Lord Lyndhursit has been appointed" to succeed Chief Baron A Ibxander, attd htt , hai accepted tire •appointment •/ m *•’*
