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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 *•’*