Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, August 09, 1855, Image 1
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sam%.-Wmimeit6n, Aii 1 ndepende nt Jouiiial: For the Promotion of the Political. Social, Agricutnral and Commercial Interests of the South. j lewis h. grist, pubiiiher.
VOL. 1. YORKYILLB, S. C., THUBSDAY, AUGUST 9, 1855. USTO. &1.
BMM?M???????-?I??????????y?B?? _ _ _
(Lboicc |Joctn).
h'l?.in tin- London Spectator.
THE SONG OF THE BAIN.
Lo! tiu' long slender spears, how they <|iiheraiid tin- li.
, Where the clouds -o11 1 their r ivalry ilotfii ;
K ink an-1 tile hy the million tin* rain lances da-li
Over mountain an-1 l iver an-l town :
Thick the hat tie-drop- fall?hill tliev -Ir--;- n-it ill
l.lo??l:
The trophy to war is the jnvi-n I'resli hud :
Oh. the rain, the plentiful rain !
The pastures lie hake-!, and the furrow is hare.
The wells they yawn empty ami >ry :
Hut a ru-hiiiff of waters i-- iiear-1 in theair.
Ami a rainbow leaps out in the sky.
JI.uk! the Iiimi v -lr->ps peiiiii-i tlie sycamore "leaves.
How they wash the wide pavement, ami sweep trom
I lie eaves :
Oli, the vain, the plentiful vain !
See, the weaver throws wide his one swinging pane.
The kind drops ilanee in on the Hour.
Ami his wife livings her tlovrer-pnts to drink the sweet
rail)
On the step l?y her half-open door.
At the tune on the skylight. far over his head.
Smiles their poor crippled lad on his hospital hod.
Oh, the rain, the plentiful rain !
And away, far from men, where high Mountains tuwor.
The little green mosses rejoice.
And the hud-headed heather nods to the shower.
And the liill-torrents lift up their voice:
And the pool- in the hollows mimic the flight
()f the rain, as their thousand points dart up in light:
<>h, the rain.-the plentiful rain!
And deep in the fir-wood helow. near the plain,
A -ingle thrush pipes full and sweet.
How days of clear shining will come after rain.
Waving meadows, and thick-growing wheat :
So the voice of Hope sings, at the heart of our fears.
< >f the hanest that springs from a great nation's tears:
Oh. the rain, the plentiful rain!
IHiscfllaiifoiis Beaming.
THE AMERICAN BALD EAGLE.
In whiliug away an evening we shall be excused
by our readers if we occasionally turn
from thestrict line of agricultural advancement,
to give a notice to things not familiar, as of
old. but still interesting to the lover of Natural
History. Among the most prominent of these,
is that truly American bird, adopted as our
national emblem, the White-Head Eairle.
This majestic bird is still found along the
inhabited sea-shores, throughout the Cnited
States, and 011 the great rivers aud lakes of the
interior ; but in number much less than in the
earlier settlements, where it had long held its
abode. It is described with much eloquence,
and at much length, by both Wilson aud Audubon,
in their American Ornithologies ; and
from thorn we o:irn that it is a wr<wJ?*orv cro?
ture, preying chiefly upon the spoils of others,
aud possesing few of the noble qualities attributed
tc^it by tradition, or that would recommend
it as the national emblem of a magnanimous
people. For many years a family of
White-Head eagles have held a doinicil on our
farm, just below lake Erie, or. the Niagara,
where successive families of young have been
reared aud taken their flight. The Niagara
has ever been a favorite resort of the Bald Ea^le.
Early travellers mention them as abounding,
for miles, arouud the cataract. We have
never, to our knowledge, suffered from their
depredations ; although often detecting them
preying upon the dead tish which have floated
to the shores of the river, or beeu left by the
fishermen. We have always regarded them
with complacency, as one 01 the interesting
family of wild birds that fur ages have dwelt
around a spot which, from its peculiar accordance
with their natural habits, has been their
chuseu home.
As no more than a single pair of eagles usually
occupy a nesting ground, the boundaries
of which uiay extend a mile, or more, either
way, the family that hold dominion over our
place have been in constant possession sine,
we hrst knew it, near twenty years ago. The
young hover about for the tirst year, aud usually
disappear for some other region the next
spring, or at a year old. They seldom breed
till they acquire the white head and tail, which
is at about three years of age. At the approach
of the paring season, in April, they usually
leave the river-shore for their nest in the woods,
ouly going out for the purpose of food, until
the young are large enough to leave the nest
with thorn. They then loiter about their usual
hunting-grouuds, preying on tho spoils of other
birds, ur the dead fish and carion lying along
.L? ..V 1 *1... .1?,.~ 4*..11 mnnr
lllC MlUll'S, .1UC1 lUf utsi utvp i?ui auun
in the winter, we have frequently found three
or four, and sometimes more of them sitting
together on the high branch of a dead tree,
I * where, if on horseback, or with a team of horses
or oxen, they can be very* nearly approached
without alarm?indeed, we have rode on horseback
within an hundred feet of them, while
they looked down upon us with great complacency.
They will so sit for a whole day, and
only move off at night to their roosting place
in the woods. During the winter, they hover
about the river-shore continually, and in severe
weather arc often seen floating down the stream
on a cake of ice, devouring a fish, the body of
a gull, or duck, which they have captured, or
have found killed or wounded by some hunter.
Almost every winter, some of the young eagles
have been shot by the hunters, and occasionally
one has been caught from the nest and
taken to the neighboring city, as a pet or curiosity.
i
The writer once had an encounter of this
latter kind, and as it was, in its results, somewhat
of au adventure we shall record it.?
When about eighteen years old, spending some
time in the vicinitv of one of the irreat lakes,
oue tine May morning we weut with a companion
down to the shore where a fisherman had
put. up a shauty, aud with his wife and an infant
child had taken up theirsuinmer residence.
On our way down, and about a hundred rods
from the water, in the topmost branches of an
enormous oak, we spied an eagle's nest, and as
the old eagles were wheeling about it, we eoneluded
that the nest had either eggs or young
within it, and which of the two we soon determined
to ascertain. As our companion was a
middle-aged man, aud had no special taste for
climbing, the adventure was left for iue alone.
The tree on which the nest was built had no
limb* for thirty feet or more from the grouud,
I
but, fortunately, a smaller tree near it had been 1
felled, and its top lodged midway up among 1
the branches of the oak. Ascending the fallen
tree, I soon reached the oak, and catching the
i huge limbs above me, 1 swung up on one after i
: another until I stood on one a few feet beneath ;
the trio of branches on which the nest lay. i \
Ihiring my ascent, one of the eagles, with i <
i vociferous cries, often wheeled within a dozen i i
I feet of my head ; but, like the youngsters, as 1 11
( had at the timcipiite as much courage as con- ! 1
duct, 1 stood in little fear of an attack. While
posted on a strong limb, with a near branch to ;:
; hold on by, I looked into the nest. It was :
, built of strong, heavy sticks, laid crosswise, j i
! perhaps two feet in thickness from bottom to I <
top, and four or five feet wide on the surface, 11
covered with long, dry grass, and leaves.? | i
i About midway on the nest lay two young oa- j;
! gles, one somewhat larger than the other, about
the size of half-grown goslings, covered with I <
( the same sort of down, in color and appearance.
Close by them lay two or three dead fish, half i
J covered with blue-bottle flics, and giving off an I
intolerable stench. With a stick which I drew
[ out of the lower part of the nest, i tried to :
poke one of the young towards me; but they 1
j turned up their claws in defiance, with a sort I
i of hiss, and edged further away. i
During this time, one of the old eagles had left
the premises altogether, while the other <
still kept wheeling and diving around, but ap- 1
preached no nearer than within a few feet of :
me, as before. After awhile, my continued <.
poking at the young ones so exasperated one i
j of them, that he seized my stick so firmly with t
his claws that I drew him within reach. Do
, termined to hold divided empire with the old j t
I eagies in rne possession ot tlieir young, the \
next process was t.? get the bird to the ground I c
; without damage, as i had 110 sack or basket in , a
1 which to deposit and let him safely down : bur, j .
like other youngsters, who are seldom at a loss j 1
for expedients in mischief, apian was soon in- j t
vented. Taking off my hat. coat, and vest, and j 1
laying them on the adjacent limb, my shirr J t
j was rapidly drawn over my head, file sleeves | t
j tied together at the wristbands, and thrown f
j over my neck, and skirts bounds into a knot. I
| thus making a sack, and the open collar and t
bosom forming its mouth. Into this rm, ireceptacle
our bellicose VoiingAmerica" was tl
rapidly thrust, my outer garments replaced, j t;
and, flushed with victory, I made a rapid tie- | il
scent down the tree. No triumphant plunder- j ti
er ever felt prouder of his trophy than I, and. j ^
like the kilted Highlander in ? Hob Hoy,'' I h
could sing : tt
The eagle. he warlord above.
| And was lord of all below." j \
I took the eairledow" the fisherman's hut ! w
:tn.r it'irr -pending an hour or two. biguii t?.? "
consider what to do with the young ruffian I jj.
had ^0 wantonly caught, for I had neither a j tj
suitable place nor provisions on which to keep : j
him, and wisely concluding that the ?tnonl, if (
not the better part of valor was discretion, f'
gave him to the owner of the hut tor his own | j
pastime. j Z(
I saw no more of the eagle for some weeks, ;
CI
when I again visited the fisherman, and found j ^
the young, tawny-looking thing an enormous !
bird, lounging about the door, and grown stout
and saucy from generous treatment and the ^
fish garbage on which he had been profusely p
fed.' ' st
The next report heard from the young sav- |
age, a tew weeks after, was near being a tragic
one. The wife of the fisherman having oeca- ,
sion one day to go to the shore, a few rods dis- tj
tant, after a bucket of water, while there she f
heard a scream from her child, which in her
caution she had placed upon the bed when she u
left the room. Hushing back, she found the ^
child prostrate on the tloor, screaming in terror
and agony, the eagle on its breast, with
oue claw transfixed into its face, and the other
as approached, turned up, with open beak, -f
at the mother's approach. With ^
the quicK energy of a woman iu extremity, she
struck the eagle off with her foot, and caught w
up the child, its face badly cut and bleeding,
and deposited it at once in a place of safety. "
This done, an axe lay at the door; and that
eagle died, probably as sudden a death as ever ^
malefactor did on execution of any sort whatever.
The little sufferer, after a few weeks'
careful attention, recovered of its wound, but
with a lastiug scar on its temple.
That was the first and the last of the race u
that we ever attempted to tame, and long will v
the bald eagle " tower" over our homestead, r
iu his "pride of place," ere we shall seek to t
disturb his authority. t
The quill of the bald eagle is peculiarly hard 2
and elastic, and to those who prefer a quill to t
a metal pen, like ourselves, we commend their c
use, when they can be obtained. We have ^
long used them.?American Agriculturist. (
it
REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. j
The daring exploit of two women in Ninety- s
Six District furnishes an instance of courage i
as strikiug as auy remembered among the tra- t
ditious of South Carolina. During the sieves 1
of Augusta and Cambridge, the patriotic en- i
thusiasm that prevailed among the people t
prompted to numerous acts of personal risk and i
sacrifice. This spirit, encouraged by the sue- i
cesses of Sumter and others over the British s
arms, was earnestly fostered by Gen. Greene, r.
whose directions marked at least the outline of s
every undertaking. In the efforts made to t
strike a blow at the invader's power, the sons i
of the Martin family were among the most dis- 1
tinguished for active service rendered, and for (
injuries sustuiued at the enemy's hands. The 1
wives of the two eldest, during their absence,
remained at home with their mother-in-law.? (
One evening intelligence came to them that a j
courier, conveying important dispatch to one '
of the upper stations, was to pass that night ,
along the road, guarded by two British officers, j
They determined to waylay the party, and, at j
the risk of their lives, to obtain possession of .
the papers. ]
For this purpose the two youug women dis- <
guised themselves in their husbauds' clothes, I
and being well provided with arms, took their i
station at a point on the ruad which they knew ?
the escort must pass, it was already late, and 1
they had not waited long before the tramp of i
horses was heard in the distance. It may be
imagined with what amicus expectation the I
heroines awaited the approach of the critical
moment on which so much depended. The
forest solitude around them, the silence of
night, and the darkness, must have added to
the terrors conjured up by busy fancy. Presently
the courier appeared, with his attendant i
guards. As they came close to the spot, the :
disguised women leaped from their covert in
the bushes, presented their pistols at the officers,
and demanded the instant surrender of
the party and their despatches. The men 1
were completely taken by surprise, and their
alarm at the sudden attack, yielded a prompt
-ubmission. The seeming soldiers put them 1
nil their parole, and having taken possession I
if the papers, hastened home by a short cut
through the woods. No time was lost in sending
the important documents by a trusty mes- <
<enger to (lenenal (Ireene. The adventure
had a singular termination. The paroled ofli- 1
tiers, thus thwarted in their mission, returned t
l>y the road they had taken, and stopping at j
the house of Mrs. Martin, asked nccominoda- I
riitn. as weary travellers, fur the nijrht. The i
hustess inquired the reason of their returning 1
?o soon after they had passed. They replied v
by showing their paroles, sayinjr they had been ' J
taken prisoners by two rebel lads. The ladies t
rallied them upon their want of intrepidity.? Had
you no arms ?" was asked. The otfi n
ers answered that they had arms, but liar.
:?een suddenly taken off their etuard, and wen
illowed no time to use their weapons. They
leparted the next morninir, havinjr no suspi:ion
that they owed their capture to the very
vomen whose hospitality they had claimed.
The mother of this patriotic family was a naive
of Caroline county. Virginia. Her name
vas Elizabeth Marshall, and she was probably
if the same family with Chief Justice Marshall,
is she beloiured to the same neighborhood.?
U'ter her marriaire to Abriim Martin. she renoved
to his settlement bordering on the Tnlian
nation, in Ninety-Six. now Kdcrelield
)istriet. South Carolina. Theeountry at that
ime was spareely aettled. most of its inhabiiints
hoi 11^ pioneers from other States, chiefly
rum Virginia ; and their neighborhood to the
ndians had caused the adoption of some of
heir savaire habits. The name of Edjreliehl
; said to have been iriven. because it was at
hat period the edire or boundary of the respee
exclaimed fervently?"'itianK uou, tney are e
;he children of the Republic." 1
Of the seven patriot brothers, six were spar- ^
;d through all the dangers of partisan warfare
u the region of the "dark aud bloody ground." i
The eldest, William M. Martin, was a captain t
jf artillery ; aud after having served with dis- J
unction in the sieges of Savannah aud Char- t
lestou, was killed at the siege of Augusta, just a
ifter he had obtained a favorable position for i
lis cannon, by elevating it on one of the towers 1
constructed by Oen. Pickens. It is related 1
:hat not long after his death, a British officer t
oassiug to Port Ninety-Six, then in possession
jf the Knglisb, rode out of his way to gratify t
his hatred to the whigs by carrying the fatal i
uews to the mother of this gallant young man. <
He called at the house, aud asked Mrs. Martin
if she had not a son in the army at Augus- <
ible settlers and their cultivated fields. ('ivization.
however, increased with the populaon.
and in the time nt'tho Revolution, Ninety- n
ix was anmug the foremost in sendinginto the tr
eld it- "jiiota i)t" hardy and enterprising troops 'i
> oppose the Rritish and their savage allies.
At the eoiijiijeM";*? - * r me contest, Mrs.
lartin had children, seven of whom were
.,,...' 1 ? nongh t<> hear arms. These brave ! "
jiing men. under the tuition and tuple of t(.
icir parents, had crown up in attachment to sj,
icir country, and ardently devoted to its -er- ,
ice. were ready ??n every oceasiou t<? encouu- (jr
r the dangers of border warfare. When the t(.
rst call tbr volunteers sounded through the i
nd, the mother encouraged their patriotic vj
?al, boys." >he said ; " litrht for your
iuntrv ! fight till death, if you must, but nevr
let your country be dishonored. Were T a jy
tail I would go with you."
At another time, when (Ad. Cruder cotuman- ,j(
L'd the Rritish at Cambridge, and Colonel
rowne at Augusta, several Rritish officers jjj
opped at her house for refreshment: and one p.
f them asked how inauy sous had she. She ,r|
lswcred?eight ; and to the ?(Uestion where
ley all were, replied promptly : " Seven of j.j
leui are engaged in the service of their eoun- t)
y." "Really, madam." observed the officer, (j
leeringly, "you have enough of them."? t,
No.sir," said the matron, proudly, "I wish 1
ad fifty." I]
Her house in the absence of her sons was u
e<[Ueutly exposed to the depredation of the d
ories. On one occasion they cut opeu her li
lather beds, and scattered the contents.? w
fheri the young men returned shortly after- c<
aids, their mother bade them pursue the ma- g
mders. One of the continental soldiers hav- it
i?r been left at the house badly wounded, d
W .? 11.. .... 1...1
Irs. -Hurilll K1 UUly UllL'UUL'U UI1U IJUincu mm
.11 his recovery. A party of the loyalists who w
eard of his being there, came with the inten- u
ion of taking his life, but she found means to a:
idc him from their search. p
The only daughter of Mrs. Martin, Letitia, a
narried Capt. Edmund Wade, of Virginia, 1*
/ho fell with his commander, Gen. Montgome- u
y, at the siege of Quebec. At the time of o
he siege of Charleston by Sir Henry Clinton, J
he widow was residing with her mother at si
Ninety-Six. Her son Washington Wade was I
hen live years old, and remembers many oc- e
:urrences connected with the war. The house I
vas about 100 miles in a direct line west of c
Charleston. He recollects walking in the pi- t
izza on a calm evening with his grandmother, v
V light breeze blew from the east, and the o
:ound of heavy caunon was distinctly heard a
n that direction. The sound of cannon heard s
it that time, and in that part of the State they s
tnew must come from the besieged city. As a
eport after report reached their ears, the agi- t
ation of Mrs. Martin increased. She knew
lot what evils might be announced; she knew b
lot but the sound might be the knell of her o
sons, three of whom were then in Charleston, b
rheir wives were with her, and partook of the t
same heart-chilling fears. They stood still for u
i few minutes, each wrapped in her own pain- d
'ul and silent reflections, till the mothor at a
ength, lifting her hands and eyes toward heaven r
- - ? 1 n 1 ?1
'
ta. She replied in the affirmative. "Then T
saw his brains blown out ohtltf 'h'ld of battle,"
said the monster, whoanticipated his triumph
in the sight of a parent's hsjoiiy. Hut the effect
of the startling anmitm'i'inent was other
than heexpeeted. Terrible :^ was the shock,
and aggravated by the ruthless cruelty with
which her bereavement was made known, no
woman's weakness was snil'cr'"'- to appear.?
After listeniiijr to the dreadtiii''ccital, the only
reply made by the American dame was, "lie
Huiiu not navo uiea in a noon'1' cause . i ne
evident clnmrin of the officer as he turned and
rode away, is still remembered in the family
[raditioii. v
This oldest son married W ?:rii?jr. of
Dorchester, when she was hu: fourteen years
?f aqe. She was the dauqhn v of Benjamin
Wa rin?r. who afterwards becaiu*' one of the eariest
settlers of Columbia when established as
he seat of government in the State. The
jrineijdes of the devolution had been tauqht
n-r from childhood; and her etforts to promote
fs advancement were joined by those of her
lusbaiiu's family. She was no of the two
vho risked their lives to seize upon the dos?atehes
as above related. IKr husband's unllllolx
ili.Mth h?ff 1IMt lk tlllMi. 1*. ill II ir < ]? 1 I I I foil
? ? vivui ii iv<ii n nil iuu? ' "un_ \yiiuiii i ii
?two sons ami a daughter: but slut never
narritul ajiain.
THE EIGHT OP LOVE.
When nijrlit enfolds lii'i* sable win::
Around (lie weary earth,
Aii' 1 stars their holy radiance Hiujr
Where purest thoughts liuv< liirth.
Bear memories of the allien time
Beam Brightly train afar:
Heart-gems in lave'" clear fli-.veo they *hin<\
Thy truth the fairest "tar.
The sun which >01 our pathway -miled.
In happy 'day* of yore.
When hope's young dreams w re hrief as wiM.
Hath *et to rise no more.
But not le*> heautiful to me
This lingering chasteneil 1: lit.
That Mewls with every thnilpl af thee.
And cheer* life's darkest inrht.
From Heaven descends thej.cred tlame
Which feeds atfeetioii * tir.
Through long dim years, tar ive the same.
While earthly Haines expii .
Light of our *ouls I thy inys' > power.
Will crown e'er death's low -hadowed hour
With immortality !
JOAN OF ABC.
The story of Joan of Arci.s familiar to all.
ut a doubt loutf existed ;e tu the exact na- :
ire of her eharu-ter. FaJii-.ig a victim to
vaehery, and executed by the enemies of her
itinrry, every means wa.s akcti. V' her tnur- TtTs.
to blacken l*-'1' reputation. Knglish '
istory. even to ?lay, ?oiyrally unjust
ln-r.
'I".. . t ? i sfl^llsliui'. A c in ?;oniporary
writers, is that Joan was an cuthuast,
who being endowed with a vivid imajfittioti.
realized what, to others were mere
yams. The advanced science of the nineenfh
century recognize* *u< li phenomena.
>an honestlv believed that -be saw angelic
shins, that she was in conuiuuicatiou with j
>iritual advisers and that heaven had deluded
tw hi-r the task of liberaan?r h*-r country
mil the Kuglish yoke.
After having been the terror of the inva rs,
for uiuru than V year, ami achieved a
tries of >uccesses whic\ eeased only with the
benition of France, .loan was captured by a
irtyof Burgundians. who had joined the finish
against their native land and were then
. seiging Compiagne. To the disgrace of her
in jr. Charles tin; seventh, no effort was made
? procure her exchange. To the still greater
isgrace of tin; French prelates, they sought
? get her into the hands of the Inquisition,
istigatcd by a secret leaning to the British,
[or doom was not left long in doubt. The
nscrupulous men, who directed English affairs
uring the infancy of Henry the Sixth, beoving
that the disgrace and death of Joan
as necessary to the retention of the British
inquests, determined to buy her of the Buruudians.
Ten thousand livrcs, and an unnuy
of three hundred more, large sums in that
ay, were the price of her blood.
To have merely executed the poor girl
'ould not have answered the ends of her enelies
It was requisite to destroy her influence
s well as to take away her lifb; for this purose
there was nothing so efficacious, in that
ge, as a charge of sorcery. The traitorous
'rench prelates lent their aid to this maligant
plot. The bishop of Jieauvajs and live
thers, with the Vicar-General of the then
'rench Inquisition, were the prominent judges
elected to be the tools of the British party,
ivery ingenuity of mental torture was exhaustd
in order to induce Joan to to crime,
ler answers were perverted ; slle was denied
* 1 J -
ouusel; tne racK was tnreateuu -} aim even
he pretended authority of the church was inched
against her. At last, on the promise
f life, she was induced to sign a confession
rtfully put before her. Hut nothing could
ave her, for not only did the brutal English
oldiery, who had been prejudiced against her
s a witch, cry out for her blood, but even
he nobility demanded it.
The vile arts which were now adopted, to
iriug her to the stake, would seem incredible
n any authority less positive than that which
las come down to us. At last the base inrigues
succeeded. Having laid aside the
uale attire, which she wore before her conlenination,
she was tricked into resuming it,
nd for this was condemned to the flames as a
elapsed heretic and sorcerer. Placed in a
art, she was hurried to the market-place of
loun, where the dreadful doom was to be in
LicteJ.
The stake was fixed upon a lofty scaffold
)ot uuly that all might see her suffer, bul
hat the executioner might not be able to apjroach
her to shorten her agonies. Broughf
o the foot of the pile, Joan knelt down, and
liter imploring pardon for herself and audiblj
orgiving her enemies, turned to the bystand;r.s
and besought them to pray for her. Hei
jehavior was so devout, humble and touching
,hat sympathy for her became contagious.?
Fhe bishop of Beauvais himself melted into
ears; the Bishop of Boulogne sobbed aloud
ind even the English cried, the cruel Win
jhester with the rest.
But this emotion was only temporary, lie
covering himself, Beauvais began to read th<
| act of condemnation, in which the dying girl tl
! was mocked with false accusations of schism, a
i idolatry and magic. When the terrible sen- a
tence was pronounced, Joan, turning to the b
crowd, asked for a cross. An Englishman, o
rudely fashioning one out of a stick, handed ft
it to her. She took it, kissed it devoutly, tl
and presed it to her bosom. A priest hast- tl
ening to the church of St. Sauver's, brought n
a crucifix, which she embraced, having first ti
placed the other under her garments next to h
the skin. While he was exhorting her, the h
English began to he impatient, one of them ti
rudely asked the priest if he intended them to ei
dine there. Immediately, and without wait- si
ing for an official order, others tore her away, uj
; and dragged her to the pile. As she gazed ti
' on the great city, the motionless ami silent
| crowd, and the infuriated invaders, she cried, hi
i "Ah ! Rouen, Rouen, much do I fear you bl
will suffer for my death." k<
j A hove her head was a placard, denouncing fa
her as a heretic, apostate and idolater. When pi
she had been made fast to the stake, the exe- si
cutioncr, from below, set lire to the faggots.? si
At the sight, nature gave way for a moment, st
and she uttered a cry: but seeing that the Hi
priest, who had ascended the scaffold with her, su
, showed no signs of fear, she forgot her peril in w
the thought of him, and begged him to do- sc
scend. The smoke was now mounting around in
her. ()ccaaionally tongues of tire shot up al- el
most to her person. Beauvais, in this extrem- si
ity, advanced to the foot of the pile, hoping w
: to extract some admission from her. But she al
only answered, with mild reproach, "T die ea
through you." Tn vain lie sought to make, her fo
1 accuse her king. Though deserted by Charles, gt
; she would not defame him, but defended him Wi
to the last. "Whether I have done well or B
ill." she said, heroically, "he is faultless." in
U 1.. .^ A . il lit
,\i nisi mi: names reacnea nor person. A- sc
train, nature succombed for an instant, and sii
! <he shrieked for holy water. Hut immediate- nj
ly she recovered herself. She called on God. iti
: She protested her innocence. From the foot to
; of the pile, the Dominican, whom she had it,
forced to descend, encouraged her with words, m
: holding out his crucifix to her as lie spoke.? ui
i At times the smoke and flames concealed her m
' entirely from view, but her voice was still as
heard invoking God and his saints; nor was afc
i a cry of fear or a murmur of pain ever again h;i
wrung from her. The spectators could not bi
endure the awful sight. Many fled in horror ki
from the square; thousands were in tears;
some prayed aloud for her with ehokiDg sobs. |fo
A few only ot' her bitterest enemies attempted*!th
to laugh. One of these, a brutal Englishman,.! VJ)
v.i.- < ?>,,ut to throw a fresh faggot oq t.h<? Ti
when <ndcUfv,-? ? 1 ? ' \
I and crying, "Jesus!" she died.
Twenty years after the French king did th
tardy justice to the martyred Joan. A commission,
procured from the Pope, after hearing
the depositions of more than a hundred
witnesses, pronounced her innocent, and declared
her sentence null. On the snot where in
A ?"
j she was executed a cross was erected, which th
has subsequently been replaced by a statue of to
her. Iu the succeeding reign, still more ampie
amends were made to her, for her judges fe
were ordered to be prosecuted. Two of them cc
only survived, but these were tried, condemned
and executed.?Pefrrsoti's Mwjazine. of
ST. PETERSBURG BIRD MARKET. Tl
Perhaps for a stranger the most interesting e<
portion of this world of markets in that of the C}
Tshukin Dvor, where the birds are sold. Two fe
long rows of booths are full of living spcci- d<
mens of ornithology; pidgeons, fowls, geese, m
ducks, swans, larks, bull-finches, siskins and ft
hundreds of other singing birds, are there ti
collected, and form the most picturesque and e.?
variegated menageries that can be imagined, ol
Each booth Is of wood and open at the front, bl
so that .the whole of its contents may be seen ni
at once by the passing stranger, who is saluted in
with such a concert of cackling, crowing, chat- ai
teriug, cooing piping, and warbling, as would ol
suffice to furnish the requisite idyllic supply ti
of melodies for a hundred villages. Between st
the opposite booths are usually such bridges pi
as I have already described, from which the tl
pictures of saints are suspended, for the edifi- m
cation of the devout. On these bridges and rc
on the booths whole swarms of pidgeons arc a;
constantly fluttering about, the peaceful Bus- w
sian being a great lover of this gentle bird.? oi
Each swarm knows its own roof, and the birds tl
allow themselves to be caught without much B
difficulty when a bargain is about to be con- tl
eluded. The pidgcon is never eaten by a r<
Russian, who would hold it a sin to harm an e?
animal in whose form the Holy Ghost is said w
to have manifested itself. Pidgeons are brought oi
therefore, only as pets, to be fed and schooled s<
by their masters. It is curious to see a Rus- al
sian merchant directing the fight of his docile
scholars. With a little flag fastened to a long K
staff he couveys his signals to them, makes ai
them at his will rise higher in the air, fly to h
the right or left, or drop to the ground as if f<
struck by a bullet from a rifle. e:
The poor little singing birds?the larks, the
nightingales, linnets, bull-finches, &c?must c<
be of a hardier race than in more southern 01
lands j for in spite of the bitter frost they chir- *
rup away merrily, and salute with their songs
everv struggling ray of sunshine that finds its w
way into their gloomy abodes. The little creatures
receive during the whole long winter not p
one drop of water, for it would be useless to tl
offer them what a moment afterwards would b
be converted into a petrified mass. Their v
troughs arc accordingly filled only with snow, p
i' which they must liquefy in their own beaks
; when they wish to assuage their thirst, C
Moscow is famed for its cocks, and here the ^
> Moscow cock may be seen proudly striking n
1 about, in cages and out of them. The best a
r pidgeons are said to come from Novgorod, and c
Finland furnishes the chief supply of singing ^
r birds ; geese are brought even from the con,
fines of China, to be sold as rarities in the t
Tshkiu Dvor, after a journey of more than c
) 4000 miles ; grey squirrels may be seen rolling a
; about in their cages like incarnate quicksilver; c
while rabbits and guinea-pigs, without num- J
ber, gambol their time away in their little (
- wooden hutches. Within the booth, a living
> | centre of all this living merchandise, behold c
lie merchant olosely esconced in his wolfskin, I
nd ready to dispose of his little feathered serfs (
t any acceptable price. At the back of the J
ooth, be sure, there hangs a saintly picture
f some sort, its little lamp shedding a cheer- o
ll light to guard the feathered crowd against e
ic evil influence of intruding demons; but q
lere are evil spirits that the good saint canot
banish. Man is there to hold in chains or t!
) sentence to death, according as it may suit' (
is calculations of profit, or the caprices of s
is palate/ On shelves around are ranged the
ophies of his murderous tribe, and the north- ii
n swans, the heathcocks, (reptshiki) and a
low-white partridges (kurapatki*) are piled tl
p under the very cages from which the cap- ve
larks warble their liquid notes.
Tt is astonishing what a quantity of these j
irds are yearly consumed at the luxurious ta-1
Ics of St. Petersburg. In winter the cold
sops the meat fresh, and at the same time 11
cilitates its conveyance to market. The ^
irtridges some mostly from SaratofF, the ^
vans from Finland, Livonia and Esthonia a
lpplv heathcocks and grouse, and the wide
eppes must furnish the trapp geese which 0
utter over their endless plans where the Cos- u
ick liunts them on horseback, and kills them
itli his formidable whip. All these birds as *(
1011 as the life-blood has flown, are converted ^
ito stone by the frost, and, packed up in huge
rests, arc sent for sale to the capital. Whole ?*
edge loads of snow white hares find their "
ay to the market; the little animal are usu- P1
ly frozen in a running position, with their ^
irs poiuted, and their legs stretched out be- m
re and behind, and when placed on the ^
ound, look, at the first glance, s if they U1
ere in the act of escaping from . lie hunter. S*
ear's flesh is also sometimes ofiereu for sale n<
this market; and here and there may be
en a frozen reindeer lying in the snow by the w
Je of a booth, its hairy snout stretched forth ?
ion the ground, its knees doubled up under 111
> body, and its antlers rising majestically in- se
the air; it looks as if, on our approaching
, it would spring up and dash away once ^
ore in search of its native forests. The
ighty elk, likewise, is no rare guest in this SI
arket, where it patiently presents its horns
a perch for the pidgeons that are fluttering ai
iout, till, little by little, the axe and the saw
lvc left no fragment of the stately animal. 01
it every part of it has gone its way into the n'
tchens of the wealthy. 3e
Similar markets for birds and game will be
und in every large Russian city. Indeed jul
e habits and fashions of the Russian markets
Thosc of Moscow * >
om ihr,of Tobolks;:inJ f
emsclves equally servile in their lmitanCiTOi
e metropolitan bazaars.
? T
From ihc Churlotte Whig.
BATTLE OF KING'S MOUNTAIN. ^
Our neighbors of York District, S. C., hav- j
g proposed to celebrate the Anniversary of ^
e Battle of King's Mountain and have invid
the People of North-Carolina to partici- ^
itc in the proceedings ou the occasion. Some ^
w days since a letter was received from a
immittee of the People of Yorkville, by soipe C(
:ntlemen of this place, requesting the People ^
' Mecklenburg to select an Orator .to reprc- ei
lit the People of the State on the occasion. fcj.
he People of this country who were consult- ^
I on the subject, felt of course much delicar
in assuming to select an Orator for their J
"? . , ? , w
I low-citizcns at large, all 01 whom were as
jeply interested as themselves, and would
iturally feel some concern in the proceedings. ^
, was, however, difficult to affect.comn^unica- ^
uns with the various counties of the West?
specially the Mountain counties?whose brave m
Beers and soldiery achieved on the memora- ^
le battle so much glory for themselves and so
uch success to their country. It was besides ^
oportant that the State should be represented
id her historical claim to a large share in one
F the most remarkable battles of the revolu- ^
on be fully recognized. Under these circumances,
and with the best motives, the Peole
of Mecklenburg did not instate to perform a
ic duty assigned to them and have u?ani" I
lously chosen a son of North-Carolina, whose
sputation as one of the first Orators of the J
jo, is as wide as our common country, and
hose thorough acquaintance with the history "
f the State, fit him in the highest degree for ,
le duty of representing her on that occasion. ,
?r. Hawks, it is understood, is now writing
le History of North-rCarolina, and with this
jvolutionary evebtis perhaps, as well-informd
as any other living man. His appointment *
ill be hailed with gratification by the people J
f the entire State, and we will not permit our- ^
jives to doubt but that he will be present,
lould his health, and other circumstances at ^
II permit. The celebration of the Battle of
iing's Mountain with such orators as Hawks j
ad Preston, will be one of the most interest- ^
)g events which has occurred in the South ^
>r many years. TVe hope the People of West- ^
rn North-Carolina, from whose mountains and
vers, a citizen soldiery, under whose well-tri- ^
i officers, rushed to the rescue of their invad- ^
^rmrifrv trill i/fi<lmr /-?? I A
' nu> ^UIU|/1 UU IUV/ OjJUl/ UUUBVUlil* ?
id to patriotism and to glory, in such nuin- .
crs as will show there appreciation of the viric
and services of their fathers. ?
b
Below we append the resolutions of the peo- ^
lc of Mecklenburg. We hope that each of 3(
lie Western counties of North Carolina will q
e present with a delegation, and that steps t]
rill be immediately taken to secure such a re- ^
resentation as may be worthy of the State. ^
Whereas the citizens of York District, S).,
have requested the People of North Caro- c
ina to participate in the celebration of the An- t
iversary of the Battle of King's Mountain, j
nd have requested the People of Mecklenburg ^
ounty to select an Orator to represent the t
itate of North Carolina.
Resolved, That we, the People of Meuklen>urg,
feel it a patriotic duty to participate with *
iur fellow-citizens of South Carolina in an t
ppropriate commemoration of this Battle, so 9
;reditable to the valor and patriotism of the c
People of Virginia, North Carolina and South fj
Carolina. a
Resolved, That the People of Mecklenburg
iounty do request the Rev. Fraaeii L. Hawkf,
). D., of the city of New York, to deliver au
)ration for and in behalf of the People of
forth Carolina upon that occasion.
Resolved, That a committee of three persons,
f whom the Chairman shall be one, be appoiutd
to confer with the Rev. F. L. Hawks and reuest
him to perform the duty assigned him.
Resolved, That the committee appointed on
his occasion, be requested to select another
)rator should the one selected on this occaion
for any cause fail to perform the duty.
Resolved, Shat the proceedings of theineetag
be published in the papers of this town
nd the Yorkville and other newspapers of
his and other States.
O. W. Caldwell, Chairman.
W. K. Reid, Secretary.
STORY OF SNAKE CHARMING.
Mr. C. A. Bowen, of New Hampshire, has
lrnished the Boston Traveller with the fol
mt.. f ? i a . . *
miug. j.ne luciaenu, u is stated, are strictj
true, and occurred iu the town of Banbury,
bout twenty years ago.
An interesting little child, only four years
f age, son of Mr. David Ball of that place,
sed frequently to call for bread and milk beveen
its regular meals, an when it was given
) him, would take his dish audgo out a short
istance from the house, sit down upon a large
:one and eat it. Even at meal times instead
f sitting down at the table with the rest of
le family, the child would take his plate of
otato and butter, and go out to his rock and
icre finish his meal alone. If his mother rsonstratcd
and insisted upon his sitting at
le table, he would cry piteously, and at times
:terly refuse to eat anything. This was retried
as a whim of the child's, and but little
jtice was taken of it, and, being the baby,
; was allowed to have pretty much his own
ay. He was hearty and rugged, had as
uch bread and milk as he wanted, and durg
the day usually played out doors by himlf.
One day, as usual, Johnny, after receiving
is bread and milk, went out to his stone to
it, but presently returned and asked for another
>oou. His father being present felt curious
i know bow Johnny could eat with two spoons,
id perhaps thinking to surprise and have a
ttlfi fun with his dnrlinr* hnv. nniptl-o sliuued
j, ?j , j rr
it of the back door to the corner of a shed
;ar by to watch him. The child seated himilf
upon the rock, and without offering to
iuch his favorite beverage, sat nearly a minte
in silence; getting impatient, he called in a
w voice, 'Peckled coat! peckled coat! Come
ick and get your dinner!' The moment the
hild's voice was heard, sooner
,.orawi?a fr?m~bciiA&hia s jap; an(j tjjere
jiled itself nearly half up, and in a moment
as eating from the same dish with the ohild.
he child all the while talking to the snake
1 its low plantive voice, every now & then lookig
up as if fearful that some one might over hear
im, patting him with his little hand, calling
im his little -'peckled coat/ the while, and
rging him to eat upon his own side of the
ish, and whenever this rule was deviated from
c got a gentle tap on the head with the spoon.
The father looked until in his agony he
)uld look no longer; seizing a club he sprung
- destroy tLe snake. But he was not quick
lough. Jp. a moment the snake was under
te rock. Tiie child walked quietly into the
ousc without uttering a word, and would not
)eak fqr some time. Twj.ce after this the boy
as allowed the snake out, but the father was
nahle to get near enough to kill it. At last
le child was confined to the house and the
ithcr, by the assistance of others, pried up the
one and killed the reptile. The snake was
F the species known in that vicinity as the
lilk adder, was nearly three feet long, and he*
veen three and four inches round the body.
When the child learned the fate of the snake,
s grief could not be described, and was most
ainful to witness. For hours after, it would
ry piteously. ? Oh, father, you have killed
ly poor peckled coatsobbing the while as
: its little heart would break j and for weeks
fter this, he would go aud sit ou this stone,
nd mournfully call for his "peckled coai."?
t was with difficulty he could be made to eat
nyun ' an(^ fc>rnearly fhree months he coninuedto
pirns aT"7'UIltil he was reduced to a
lerc skeleton. But tins ux!Z:tural 2"ef in
ime wore away. He is now a hale and heary
young man, and withal much respected by
nose who know him.
Age of Animals.?A hear rarely exceed*
wonty ypnra A. Jog ltroo twcuty ) eurs J J
rolf twenty ; a fox fourteen or sixteen years,
jions are long lived. One has been known
d live to the age of seventy years j a squirrel
r hare seven or eight years ; rabbits seven,
llephants have been known to live to the great
ge of four hundred years. When Alexander
le Great had conquered Phorus, king of Inia,
he took a great elephant, which had
)ught valiantly for the king, and named him
Ljax, dedicated him to the sun, and let him
o, with this inscription, "Alexander, the son
f Jupiter, hath dedicated Ajax to the sun."
his elephant was found with this inscription
iree hundred and fifty years afterward. Pigs
ave been known to live to the age of thirty
ears j the rhinoceros to twenty. A horse has
eeu known to live to the age of sixty-two,
ut averages from twenty to thirty. Camels
unAfimou HUM L 1?5
mvv wv vug age U1 IJUC UUUUICU.""
tags arc long-lived. Sheep seldom exceed
be age of ten. Cows live about fifteen years.
)uvicr considers it probable that whales someimes
live one thousand years. A swan has
ttained the age of two hundred years. Peliuns
arc long-lived. A tortoise has been known
o live to the age of one hunred aud soven.?nsecte,
as a general rule, are short-lived,
hough there are a good many exceptions to
he rule.
Thbek WoNDiUis.-'If ever I reach Heaven/
aid the eminently pious Dr. Watts, 'I expect
o find three wonders there. First to uiuet
ome I had not expected to meet there; sound,
to miss some whom I had expected to
nd there; but third, the greatest wonder of
11, will be to find myself there!'
4^ We talk, but God dots what he pltaits*
iiMM