The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1836-1851, June 02, 1841, Image 1
- . f ? THE
CAMDEN JOURNAL.
' ^^EW SERIES.] VOL. II. CAHDEN, SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY, JUNE 2, 1841. NO. 26.
Published every Wednesday Mornivg, by
THOMAS W. PEGUES,
. Publisher of the Laws of the Union.
At three dollurs in advance, three dollars and fifty
cents in six months; or four dollars at the expiration
of l he year.
Advertisements inserted at 75 cents per square for
the first, and 37 1*2 for each subsequent insertion.?
The number of insertions to be noted on all advertise
monts, or they will be published until ordered to be
discontinued, and charged accordingly. One dollar
per square will be charged for a single insertion.
Semi-monthly, Monthly and Quarterly advertisements
will be charged thosamc as new ones each in.
ertion.
n All Obituary Notices exceeding six lines, and
- - - - " --v-j-i?
Communications recommending isamuuauro mi puip
ic Offices of profit or trust?or puffing exhibitions,
will bo charged as advertisements.
Accounts for Advertising and Job Work will be
presented for payment quarterly.
D" All Letters by mail must be post paid to insure
punctual attention.
? 1 1 *
LINES,
Written on planting .Flowers on the
Graves of Friends.
IT UKS. L. H. SIGOIIXVCT.
I've set the flowrets where you sleep,
. Fathor and Mother dear;
- Their roots are in the mould so deep,
Their bosoms bear a tear;
The tear-drop of the dewy morn,
Their trembling casket fills,
Mix'd with that essence from the heart,
Which filial love distils.
Above thy pillow, Mother, dear,
I've placed thy favorite flower?
The bright-eyed purple violet,
Tiiat docked thy summer bower?
Tho fragrant comomile, that spreads
In verduro fresh and green,
And richly broiders every niche,
The velvet turf bolween.
I kiss'd the tender violet That
droop'd its strnnger.lioad,
And call'd it blessed, thus to grow
So near my precious dead;
And when my venturous path shall bo
Across tho deep, blue sea,
- I bade it in its beauty rise,
And guard that spot for mo,
^".c y ' - '
. There was no other child, my dead,
To do tins deed for thee?
Mother ; no other nun' .ig babe
E'er sat npon thy knee?
And Father! thai endearing name,
No oilier lips than mine,
E'er breathed, to move thy hallo w'd prayer
At morn, or eve's decline.
Tear not these flowers, thou idle child?
Tear hot the flowers that wave
In sweet and holy sanctity,
Around my parent's grave,
Lest guardian angels from the skies,
Who watch amid the gloom,
... r .. o
Should speak accusing words of those
Who desocrato the tomb.
And spare to pluck my sacrad plants,
-Ye groups that wander nigh,
When summer sunsets firo with gold,
Thp glorious western sky ;
So when your sleep is in the dust,
Where now your footsteps tread,
May kindred spirits plant the rose,
' > AWb lnirlv lip./I.
- J? J
From the Tennessee Farmer.
THE PLEASURES OF COUNTRY LIFE.
One of the most exhilerating circumstances
in the Agricultural life, is the never
ending succession of change and variety
in the scenery and labor of the farm.?
This pleasing diversity makes itself felt
throughout the lapse of the seasons.?
. There is some little monotony, it is true,
in the bronze countenance and icy breath
of surly old Winter; but even he, hard
featured and cold hearted old gentleman
as he is, has his freaks of fancy to beguile
the .usual dulness of his presence, treats
us to an occasional glance of most blessed
sunshine; and now and then throws off
his rusty brown coat, and puts on his robe
of state so exquisitely white and cleanly,
as no ermincd judge or ball-room beauty
lr may ever aspire to rival. And then his
jf storms and tornadoes! where is the theatrical
mechanism which can ever compete
with him at these? His torrents of
rain and sleet, too! The magnanimous
Mr. Espy may brag as he pleases about
raising the Ohio at pleasure with his manufactured
article, we believe he will never
L- -Ll? *
UC auic W UUIIIti UJJ IU IIIC viajr UUing,
pf old Winter, in this line of business.
^Winter, too, witnesses many cheering
changes in the arrangement of the farm.
Under the magic of the woodman's axe,
the tangled forest suddenly becomes the
open field, and takes its place as an internal
part of the regular plantation. The
state fence rises up erect, in its long lines,
withitsformidable appearances of strength
and security; and a re-arrangement of
fields and enclosures often strikes the eye
' with a sentiment of gratiliation.
> But, sad as is the havoc he makes in
the' vegetable world while he does stay,
even stormy old Winter passes swiftly on
his way; and with his departing footsteps,
that famous young artist, Spring, comes
forward to touch the whole scene with
her tints of green, and to remodel all that
rough old Winter has destioyed.
Spring brings her balmy skies and fragrant
breath to all; but none so sensibly
as the farmer feels the exhileration of the
season, the release from his Winter's inactivity,
and the excitement of his rural
labors; none looks forward to the prospect
before him, and to its succession of
changes, with more joyous expectation.
The fresh soil is now upturned in every
direction, a change of scene which some
may regard as not very decidedly picturesque.
But as a preparation for his
crops, it is inexpressibly pleasing to the
iarmer. AIIU ii iiic uiuua uiuuiw is, in*
deed, unsightly to the eye of refinement,
one might suppose that the most fastidious
could not fail to be pleased with the various
fancy colors which are brought to
light on some of our farms by this handy
work of the plough. The most brilliant
hues are often exhibited?red, yellow,
orange, &c. &c. This might please even
the Indian taste, which delights in lively <
colors, but we appeal to the farmer if he
had not better go to work with the soil
which show these gaudy hues, and bring i
it, with all possible speed, to the color and I
qualities which accord with the standard i
of true agricultural taste.
Very soon, however, this aspect of the j
fields is succeeded by another far more
vivid and pleasing. Nature's own favor- '
??? (rroon ch<orfc ifc enft mnntlo imnn <
,lV- Wll/I, ~ ?r-? j '
the whole scene. The small grains, in <
disordered array, but beautiful in their dis- i
order, thrust up their bright spires in such 1
profusion that the soil is no longer visible; ;
while the stately corn, marshalled in ranks
like regular troops on review day, stands ']
erect as a grenadier, and rustles its flags ;
in the breeze with great dignity. s
But another glorious change comes with I
the coming of harvest. The small grains 1i
have shed their verdure, and they now 1
ripple in the wind like a sea of molten ^
gold. Before the touch of the reapers s
that majestic grain is cut down in a day; s
and the field from which, in the morning;'
the footsteps of man and beast were care- (i
fully excluded, is now open and accessible .1
at all points. Your ground is your own i
again; whilst the thick array of shocks i
upon it, assures you that it has made a I
good return for your temporary banish- i
ment from its precincts. |;
A similar feeling attends the mowing of 1
the luxuriant meadow, and the change of f
its crowded surface to the smoothly swept ;
carpeting of its embryo aftermath.
tm _i 1.- ?
1 ll'JSU aisiJ wuu |iiauiiwu i;uiuu?? UK? .
corn crop at the ground early in Autumn, I
find the sudden change of scene inde-ji
scribably pleasant and exhilerating. j I
The preparation and casting of the, I
Fall sown crops renews this routine of j
variety; and so on throughout every re- t
currence of the seasons. A benevolent 1
Providence has liberally provided for the ;
indulgence of our innate fondness for novelty
by vividly stamping that character- .
istic upon all the successive vicissitudes of ]
the circling year. I
The manual occupations of husbandry 1
are change and variety, correspondent s
with the varying aspects of the farm.? ;
This alternation is so rapid and diversified <
as forever to exclude the weariness of i
monotony at least, and greatly to relieve |s
the husbandmen in the fatigues of his j
farm labors; no slight amelioration this,' I
of the primeval doom of man, that he' 1
should "eat his bread in the sweat of his 1
face.*' ]
The rigid utilitarian will doubtless re- ;
gard the above reflection as altogether <
superfluous and unprofitable. We do not:1
enr*r?niy-iK trv nntr cnoii i?ritiniem u? h
ouv^uiiiu iv ui?? ijuvii taiiiviouji vr u ug- j
lieve it to be a point of no considerable <
importance that the farmer should take a ]
high and exalted pleasure in his employ- i
ment. We wish to see him love the agri- I
cultural life because of its own intrinsic
charms. To him who delves the earth |
wholly and solely for the present pelf he j
may be able to extract from it, farming is ,
a sordid and dirty business. It is indeed ,
an ungrateful and a ruinous business with
our common mother, who is almost cer- ,
tain to be reduced to extreme poverty by ,
the unnatural practices of such a son.?
From him only can improvement be expected
who takes a pride in his pursuit,
who is fascinated with its pure and wholesome
pleasures, and the reward of whose
labors is not made exclusively to consist
in n ? A - ... C vl, v11wn onrl onntn
Hi pi\JIU|)l rciurns Ul uuuais cuiva wmo,?
"VVe would not indeed have the farmer so
sublimated in his ethics as to be altogether
uninfluenced by the latter consideration.
His profits as constituting the means of
improvement on his farm and of promoting
the welfare of those who surround
him, may be made largely instrumental in
subserving the highest purposes of human
life. Ana there is one fact, in connexion
w -S '
with this subject, which would espcciall
commend to those who are in such a hui
ry to be rich that they cannot take tim
to calculate the consequence of a ruinou
system of agriculture. The farmer wh
takes a proper pride in his calling, am
conducts its details with an eye to pet
manent improvement as well as presen
profit, will always, other things beinj
equal, become a rich and more prospet
ous man in the end, than the greedy cul
tivator who runs down his soil with ai
uninterrupted series of exhausting crop
in his extreme haste to make it immediate
ly profitable.
A DESCRIPTION OF THE GREAT MIS.
SOURlAN.
This extraordinary zoological monu
mentof former ages, arrived at Louisvill
a few days since, and is about to be exh
bilcd in that city. We gather from th
Louisville Journal a hasty description r
this mighty skeleton, which will be rea
with more than ordinary interest.
It measures 32 feet in length and 15 i
height. The head measures, from the ti
of the nose to the spine of the neck, i
feet. From the edge of the upper lip
measuring along the roof of the moutl
to the socket of the eye is thre feet, fron
the lower edge of the upper lip to th
first edge of the front tooth, 20 inches.?
Each jaw has four teeth, and the uppe
jaw has besides two enormous tusks.
The teeth are each 4 inches broad.?
The nose projects 15 inches over the low
3r jaw. The tusks are 10 feet long, ex
slusivc of 1 foot and 3 inches, whicl
forms the root, and is hurried in the skull
rhe right tusk was found firm in the head
and remained fixed in its socket during thi
jxcavation, and its transportation to St
Louis, which for unate circumstances en
ables us to know the exact position an<
situation which the tusks occupied in th<
lead of the animal during its life. The;
were carried by him almost horizontally
sending somewhat down, and then coming
with their points up again, making j
sweep, from extremity to extremity, in i
straight line across the head of 15 feet.?
The longest rib measured 5 feet 6 1-i
nches in length, the shortest 2 feet I
nches. The scapula, or shoulder-blade
s 3 feet 1 inch in length, and 2 foot'
? ? I.I mt _ l tL _r iL
ncnes in oreanin. i ne icngui 01 im
lumorus, or forearm, is 3 feet 5 1-!
nclies, and its greatest circumference i
J feet 3 inches. The femur, or thigh
aone, is 4 feet and a half inch long, am
3 1-2 inches in diameter. The feet of th<
mimal appear to have been webbed.?
The fore foot has 4 toes and a thumb.?
The longest toe measures 1 foot 8 inches
he shortest 1 foot; and the thumb '
nches. All the bones of the animal ar
irm, and contain no marrow. The cavi
[y of the brain is quite large.
The proprietor, Mr. Koch, in his prin
led description of the animal, makes th
following remarks on its supposed habit
md nature:
The animal has been, without doubt
in inhabitant of water-courses, such a
arge rivers and lakes, which is proven b;
he formation of the bones: 1st, his fee
were webbed | 2d, all his bones wer
solid, and without marrow, as the aquati
inimals of the present day; 3d, his rib
were too small and slender to resist th
many pressures and bruises they would b
subject to on land; 4th, his legs are shoi
ind thick; 5th, his tail is flat and broad
5th, and last, his tusks arc so situated i
ihe head that it would be utterly impossi
ale for him to exist in a timbered cnuntr)
His food consisted as much of vegetaoie
is flesh, although he undoubtedly consunn
2d a great abundance of the latter, an
was capable of feeding himself with hi
Tore foot, after the manner of the beave
2r otter, and possessed, also, like the hype
potamus, the faculty of walking on the boi
:om of waters, and rose occasionally t
Lake air.
The singular position of the tusks ha
been very wisely adapted by the Create
for the protection of the body from tli
many injuries to which it would be expos
ed while swimming or walking under th
water; and in addition to this, it appeal
that the animal has been covered with th
same armor as the alligator, or perhaps th
migatherium.
Never marry a woman who caxno
read.?A man named Pike lately forge
a check for $75 in the name of Samut
Painter, upon the Bank of Chester Cour
Pa Affor nrottiniT fhfi cllfifk Pflshp
i J , ? ui
by a merchant, rike fled to Philadelphi;
from which place he wrote to his wifi
promising to meet her in a wood adjacer
to his house. His wife, being unable t
read, got a neighbor to peruse the lette
which gave information that led to his d(
tection. He has since confessed to sei
eral forgeries passed upon other banks.
y From the JV. Y. Courier <J- Enquirer, May 18.
MITCHELL, THE FORGER.
e Officer Bowyer arrived last evening iir
s the Albany boat, having this notorious
0 person in his custody, who is now lodged
d in safe keeping. Mr. Bowyer received
- Governor Seward's requisition on Lord
it Sydenham on Thursday last at Montr
treal, and immediately presented it to Mr.
1 Dominick Daly, the Governor's Secretawho
informed Mr. Bowyer that His
xcellency was too ill to attend to busis
ness, but he entertained no doubt the rei
quest would be complied with. Accordingly
on Friday evening Mr. Bowyer received
the orders for Mitchell's removal,
and on Saturday at 9 A. M. left Montreal
with Mitchell in irons. Cant. Comeau. of
llie Montreal police, accompauicd Mr.
i- Bowycr to Burlington, and as soon as they
e reached American waters, formally suri
rendered the prisoner in the name of Her
e Britannic Majesty.
if Mitchell is in good health, and appears
d reckless as to his fate; avowing his determination
to plead guilty of the crimes
n with which he is charged,
p It appears that on his flight from this
6 city he went to Philadelphia, where, after
having procured a ticket at the Pittsburgh
Railroad Office, (for the purpose of mis- |
fj leading any who might be in pursuit,) he
c disguised himself in a suit of grey clothes, 1
_ a broad brim hat with a crape band, in
r which dress and green spectacles, and
with a carpenter's rule in his hand, for '
_ four days openly walked the streets of ,
. that city, frequently meeting persons with N
_ whom he was well acquainted. He left!
-j Philadelphia for New York in the cars, \
l^and went up the river in the steamboat '
[ (Jtica; being all the while in company:'
3 with persons whom he knew, but none of,
whom detected him through his disguise. I
An incident occurred at Troy, which '
j shows the constant apprehension of dis-, <
2 covery under which he must ha\e been I
7 laboring. While purchasing a stage tick-!
ct at that place, a person standing behind;'
r him, read aloud from a newspaper a par-'1
1 agraph, headed "Mitchell the Forger"jI
u upon which the guilty man turned sud- <
denly around, under the conviction that 1
2 he was discovered; but finding such was
5 not the case, he merely said he knew him,;
, and believed him to be a great rascal. i ]
jr I1
B Economy in the New York Custom 1
2' House.?We Icam from DfeunettVHcr?!
aid, that the new Collector, Mr. Curtis, is
? getting along quite comfortably. He has
j adopted a rule, which is now inflexible,
R not to give audience to applicants during
_ J office hours. In this way, he manages to
_ despatch the public business, and at the
. 'same time to make such changes as are
7' deemed advisable. There seems to be
e no doubt that the number of men employed
in the Custom House has greatly
exceeded the necessities of the public service.
We understand that the Secretary
of the Treasury has sent on peremptory
e orders to Mr. Curtis to dispense with all
b offices, except such as are indispensable
to the administration of the revenue laws.
? The Collector has made as careful an exs
amination into the matter as the circumY
'stances admitted of, and has come to the
!t'conclusion that from sixty to one hundrecf
e inspectors and other officers can be disc
pensed with, without detriment to the
s public service. This will effect a saving
c,to the Government of from $60,000 td
e $100,000 per annum. There may not be
"t as much electioneering and loafing here
5 after, ds under the old dynasty, but it is
n hoped that the interests of the people will.
'* , at least be carefully looked after.
r. ^ j
lS Bulwer, in his work, entitled, " Night
' and Morning," makes the following just
d observation on the contagiousness of
j31 crime :
TI *' It may be observed that there are cer!
tain years in which, in a civilized country,
t. some particular crime comes into vogue,
o It flares its season, and then burns out.'
(Thus, at orle time we have burking, at!
I another swingism?now suicide is in
>r vogue?now poisoning trades people in
apple dumplins?now little boys cut each
other with pen-knives?now common sol-j
' diers shoot at their sergeants. Almost j
0 C
,g every year there is some crime peculiar to
c it; a sort of annual, which overruns the
country, but does not bloom again. Unquestionably,
the press has a great deal to
do with these epidemics. Let a newspaI
per give an account of some out-of-thet
?av ntrocitv. that has the charm of being
d novel, and certain depraved minds fasten I
;J to it, like leeches. They brood over and
l- resolve it; the idea grows np a horrid
d phantasmalian monomania; and all of a
1, sudden, in a hundred different places, the
2, one seed sown by the leaden types, springs
it up into foul flowering. But if the first reo
ported aboriginal crime has been attended
r, with impunity, how much more does the
imitative faculty cling to it. Ill judged
r.- mercy falls, not like dew, but like a great
heap of manure, on the rank deed;" .V
*' Y Jv . "*- . '
Our City.?Thb sound of.the .harhrterand
the trowel, the busy rumbling of the *
drays, and the appearance ;of sfrS^ts.
crowded with produce wagbps,-'ielliHat
Hamburg is doragher^hare^bf business,
Day after day our warehouses are recefy- *
ing a heavy supply of cotton* and the-Side
walks present as much, an appearance df
business almost as they do in the wintf?
months. Indeed; the prospect at preseiit,
is far beyond our calculation some nionths
ago.
We are informed, that a very large portion
of trade which heretofore found " -v'.:
another market, has been turned hither,
and a much larger portion will be receiy^i "
here next fall. Our sound currency js
doing wonders for us too. If the Gepigjjf
money remains in the [>ad condition, at it.
now is, for one more year, we shell need '
one or more banks to suddIv ourmiYkai
with funds, to pay for the staple,- Nothing
like it. Our natural advantages are great"*
and the changes of men. cannot affect the
trade of our city. It will increase instead
of decrease.?Hamburg Jow rial 20thinst>
1 '?.
Extraordinary Journey and Voy-? . "
age.?It is stated that an English traveller,
Sir George Simpson, who recently, set
out from Liverpool, and left Montreal oti "
his wild route a few days since, is nowengaged
in one] of the most extraordinary
adventures of modern times. He is on his
way round the world, and expects to travel
in all,36,850 miles. Thus, he left Liverpool- V
and arrived at Halifax and Boston by-:
steam-packet, a distance of 35000 milel
|.| i . :i u..
I IHillCU lie WU11L lu luuiiucai uy naipi^ia/- .?,
distance of 370 miles. He left that city
in a canoe, and intends to visit French ; .'..' '-'J
river, lakes Huron, Superior, White Fish.;
Lake of the Woods and Winnepeg,- untrt
be reaches the Red River settlement,'
being a distance of 2150 miles; all by- .
:anoes. He then proposes to travel on
horseback and on foot, 4o the Rocky V'l
Mountains, a distance of upwarde of 1300 *
miles. He will then proceed down the
Columbia river, a distance of 1110 miles, y. , - *
by boat, until he arrivesat Fort Vancouver.
He will then travel on the Pacific.. ;
Ocean by steamboat and ships upwards-of . *
15,000 miles; will visit tne Sandwit^ .
Islands, Kamschatka, and various other ;
places. He will proceed to Siberia; and
travel 800 miles on horseback-rtheh along
the Lena, a distance off2640 miles, in
bo***. He will take horses and after visit .?
ing various-regions of the north of Eurppe^r - :
will visit Perm, Orza, Moscow, St.Peters-1 -' :Y
... ? ? A-J i -T- "
burg, and proceed hopnc through JiUrt>pe*,
being a distance of &500 miles itt carriages
and on horseback. Mis calculation "
is to be absent the whole of this and i,
the greater part of next. . ' i
~w
jmk 157
The Penalty of an Elopement***A year .
sihce a letter was published from Mon- , .pp
treal announcing the elopement-, of Mrs. r?
Harris, wife of Captain Harris, 24th regt- ment,
with E. D. David, Esq. of Montreal, ' v;
barrister, and major in the Montreal cav- .
airy. On the 6tn instant the action commenced
by Captain Harris against Mr.
David was tried in Montreal, and resulted
in a Verdict for thirty thousand dpHaw
damages.
All Men are 4 led.'?Swift once attempted
in a humorous mood, to prove that J
all things were governed by the word led.
Said he, "Our noblemen and drunkards
are pirrtpZed; physicians and pulses arp...
feclcd ; their patients and organs are pitZed
; a new married man ana an ass are
bridied; and an old married man and pack . .
horse are sa(Ued; cats and dice are rattled;
cwinp n nd nobilitv are stsled; a coquette
and tinder box are sparkW. . - " *"
- W ; .
From the Ametican Sentinel. "
TOMB OF GEN. HARBISON.
By the following paragraph, copied
from the Shelby (Ky.) News of the 6th, ,
it will be seen that those with whom the
decision of the question properly rests,
have decided that the remains of the
great and good man whose Joss a nation'
mourns, are to find their permanent rest- ""
ing place on the bank of the Ohio River ,
at North Bend. However a national op'
central feeling, mingling with respect foiv.
the memory of the individual, might haw
favored a different disposition of-these remains,
and induced the wish that they
should repose in the' nation's cemetiy,
none can question tlie right of those who
have thus decided, on the fitness of the
decision. To us, the spot designated as
the final resting place of the remains of
Gen. Harrison, seems peculiarly appropriate.
' v.- ;
*' ? - ?* it - L:!il j
We learn that Col. '1'oao, on ins way
to his residence in this county last ^reel^ ;
in performance of a sacred duty, called
upon the venerable widow of our lamented
deceased President. , Whilst thepe, he
wasdnvited by that lady to consultation
with herself and her only remaining son^
as to the ultimate depository of the rerjr.
' ".?.k
- * i' r r 1 * 'V* ' m
^ V ^ ' </