Decatur Eagle, Volume 13, Number 9, Decatur, Adams County, 4 June 1869 — Page 1

THE DECATUR EAGLE. PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY. JL. J. HILL, EDITOR, PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR. g—:~=. , —~ OFFICE —On the west side of Second Street, over Dorwin & Brother’s Drug Store. Terms of Subscription. One copy, oneyear, in advance. . $1 50 If paid within the year 2 00 If paid after the year lias expired, 2 50 Papers delivered by carrier 25 cents additional will be charged. No paper be discontinued until aril arrearages are paid, except at the option of the publisher. Rates of Advertising. OHCH H Z C ® © ® $ 1 * O . . re slsr a S s 21=- g ? ? isr ? i i _ . « : : . ; ; Halflnch.. j.) 100 150 250350 550 Son Q' JO “ 75 1 25 2 1)0 350 450 600 10 00 Two “ 125 200 350 500 7001000 17 00 Tlir.-a •* 175 273 450 6 r o 0001400 22 (10 Fom- “ 225 350 550 SOO 11 00 18 00 27 00 Quar.Col... 275 425 625 95013002100 3’ 00 Half '• 425 620 9151465186530 00 48 00 8-1 “ 575 765 12 00 20 80 24 30 30 00 64 00 Vn» 7 00 10 00 15 00 25 QOi.To 00,48 00 80 00 Special Notices.—Fifteen per cent, additional to the above rates. Business Notices.—Twenty-fire per Bent, additional to the above rates. Legal Advertising. One square [the space of ten lines brevier] one insertion, $2 00 Eeach subsequent insertion. 50 No advertisement will be considered loss than one square; over one square - will be counted and charged ns two; over two as three, &c. Local notices fifteen cents a line for each insertion. Religions and Educational notices or advertisements may be contracted for at x lower rates, by application at the office. iDeaths and Marriages -published as news—free. OFFICIAL DIRECTORY. District Officers. ■ «• Hon. Rob’t LowryCircuit Judge. J. 8. Daily,Circuit Prosecutor. Hon. D. Studabaker .Com. Pleas Judge. B. F. IbachCom. Pleas Prosecutor. County Officers. Seymour Worden Auditor. A. J. Hill Clerk. Jesse Niblick Treasurer. M. V. B. Simcokeßecorder. James Stoops, JrSheriff. H. C. Peterson Surveyor. Bam. C. BollmanSchool Examiner. Josiah Crawford, ] Jacob Sarff, >Commissioner. George Luckey, J Town Officers. —— ■ Harrison B. Knoff . . Clerldl Tobasco Burt Treasurer a Marshall. Herman Bosse, ) David King, I Trustees. v ® David Showers, J & Township Officers. Union.—Trustee, J.H. Blakey; Justico of the Peace, E. B. Looker; Constables, Joseph C. Walters and William Cellars. Root.—Trustee, John Christen; Justices of the Peace, Jeremiah Archbold, Lyman Hurt and Henry D. Filling; Constables, John Schurger, Martin Lord and Henry Luttnun. Preble.—Trustee, F. W. Gallmeycr: Justices of the fence, A. Mangold and John Archbold; Constables, —vacant. Kirkland.—Trustee, Jonathan Bowers; Justices <>f the Pence, S. D. Beavers aud James 11. Ward; Constable, John T. Baker.W ashinuton.—Trustee, Conrad Brake; Justices of the Peace. J. W. Grim and Samuel Merryman; Constables, Frederick Meiti and Elias Crist. St. M abv's.--Trustee, Ed. McLeod; Justices of the Peace, Samuel Smith, S. B. Morris and William Comer; Constables, George W. Tceple, S. B. Fordyce and J. W. Andrews. Bluecrkkk.—Trustee, John Emery; Justice of the Peace, Lomu-1 Williams; Constables, William I. Danner and William Danner. Monroe.—Trustee, Thos. Harris; Justice of the Peace, Lorenio D. Hughes; Constable, John T. Marts. French.—Trustee, Solomon Shull; Justices of the Ptace, Lot French and V. D. Bell; Constable, Joshua Sarff, Hartford.—Trustee, Peter Huffman; Justices of the Peace, Benj. Runyan and Martin Kixer, sen.; Constables, David Eckrote and John Sitnison. Wabash.—Trustee, Henry Miller; Justices of the Peace, A. Studabaker and James Nelson; Constables, Jacob Butcher and A. G. Thompson. Jefferson.—Trustee, Charles Kelly; Justices of the Peace, Justus Kelly and John Fetters; Constables, —vacant. Time of Holding Courts. Circuit Court—On the third Monday in April, and the first Monday in No-, vember, of each year. Common Pleas Court.—-On the second Monday in January, the seoond Monday in May, and the second Monday in September, of each year. Commissioner's Cou»y.—On the first Monday in March, the first Monday in June, the first Monday in September, and the first Monday in December, of each year. CHURCH DIRECTORY. St. Mart's (Catholic). —Services every Sabbath at 8 and 10 o'clock, A. M, Sabbath School or instruction in Catechism, at 1 j o'clock, P. Vespers at 21 3 clock, P. M. Rev. J. Wemhoff, Pastor. Methodist.—Services every Sabbath at 10) e'eloek, A. and 7 o'clock, P. M. Sabbath School at 9 o’clock, P. M. D. N. Shackle ford, Pastor. Prksbtterian—No Pastor. Prayer Meeting every Sabbath at 1 o'clock, and Sabbath School at 2 o'clock, P, 11. ~ Blank deeds, blank notes. Justieee Blanks, Constables Blanks, ete , etc., printed and for sale at tbe EAGLE OFFICE.

The Decatur Eagle.

Vol. 13.

ATTORNEYS. JAIEB It. 8080, Attorney ext Law, DECATUR, INDIANA. DRAWS Deeds, Mortgages and Contracts. Redeems Land and pays Taxes. OFFICE--Opposite the Auditor's Office. vlOnGtf r . “sTHpe t e r s o Attorney ».t Ejzx'w, DECATUR, INDIANA. PROMPT attention paid to all business entrusted to his care. Is a Notary Public, and draws Deeds,’Mortgages, and other instruments in writing. OFFICE—In D. Studebaker's Law Office. vl2n33tf DA.NIEJLTIK HELLER, Attorney at Law, DECATUR, INDIANA. WILL practice his Profession anywheie in Indiana or Ohio. OFFlCE—Opposite the Recorder’s Office. vlons2tf ' PHYSICIANS. F.A.JELLEFF. W. 11. SCHROCK. JELLEFF & SCHROCK, Physicians and Surgeons, DECATUR, INDIANA. OFFICE—On Second Street, opposite the Public Square. vßn!stf. CHARLES L. CURTISS, Physician and Surgeon, DECATL'R, INDIANA. HAVING permanently located in this place, offers his professional services to the people of Decatur and vicinity. OFFICE—At the Burt House. 11-36 ANDREW SOR (m , Physician and Surgeon, DECATUR, INDIANA. OFFICE—On Second Street, over W. G.Spencer & Brother's Hardware Store. vßn42tf. A j.e r WI IV,” m‘‘ d., Surgeon. Dispensary, Ayeline Block, « v11n25 ' FORT WAYNE, IND. S. C. AYERS, M. D. k RESIDENT Bar and Eye S-nxgeon, FORT WAYNE, INDIANA. OFFICE—South west corner Main streets, over Drug Store. Eyes inserted. 12-44 DENTISTRY. ii. m. McConnell, Surgeon Dentist, DECATUR, INDIANA. AH work neatly executed pfeStjSSh'ind warranted to give sat-I-L-U isfaction. Cull and [examine specimens. , OFFlCE—Opposite the Public Square, over Heller's Law office. v11n49 REAL ESTATE AGENTS. JAMES R. ROBO, LICENSED REAL ESTATE AGENT. DECATUR, INDIANA. rpIIREE THOUSAND ACRES of-good I farming land, several Town Lots, and a large quantity of wild land for sale. If you want to buy a good farm he will sell it to you. If you want your land sold he will sell it for you. No sale, no charge. vlOnG AUCTIONEER. CHARLES M. FRANCE, A.nction.oer, DECATUR, INDIANA. 4 NNOUNCES to the public that he is a\ a regularly Licensed Auctioneer, and will attend all Public Sales when requested. OFFICE—In J. R. Bobo's Law office.

MIESSE HOUSE, I. J. MIESSE, Proprietor. Third St., Oppotitr the Court Houee, DECATUR, INDIANA. r T*HE traveling public will find this I House a desirable stopping place. Good sample rooms. vlln’J MAIN STREET EXCHAHfiE. A. FREEMAN, Proprietor, Beat .Vain Street, near the Public Square, FORT WANYE, INDIANA, vllnll If MAYER HOUSE. J. W. BULL, Proprietor, Corner of Calhoun and Wayne Street*, FORT WAYNE, INDIANA. vl2n7 ts HEDEKIX HOUSE, A. J. H. MILLS, Proprietor, On Barr, between Columbia and .Vain Stt., FORT WAYNE, INDIANA. GENERAL Stage Office. Good stableingin connection with this house. v12n25 ts

HARDWARE &c. McCULLOCS & RIOHEY Wholesale and Retail Dealer; in Hardware, Tinners' Stock AGRICULTURAL IMPLEMENTS, Mechanics 9 Tools, STOVES, <fcc., Mo. 87 Colombia Street, r.H M cuLiocn, Y FORT WAYNE, IND’ xvoa atcurr. J vl2nl3rl

DECATUR, IND., FRIDAY, JUNE 4, 1809.

Jhtat gliwritaiij. The SurgeoM’s Story. “Will you buy my body sir ?” I, Charles Markham, a young physican, was sitting alone in the dusky little room that the sign without dignified with thatitle of “office,” when these words” fell upon ray ears. I had just returned from visiting the few patients I could boast of, thoroughly heartsick at the want of humanity T!i the world, wet to the skin, and more than half frozen. I never remember a worse night in nil respects. It was cold as the Arctic, blustering, and the sleet that rattled upon the windows soon covered them with a coat of ice. It had stormed heavily all day, the stores were closed, and the side-walk venders driven to shelter. “God help any one that is forced to be abroad to night,” had been my thought, as I hurried along after finishing my professional duties, and breasted my way homeward. But scarcely had I reached it, changed my saturated garments, coaxed the sparkling anthracite into a cheerful glow, and made myself comfortable, and begun building castles in Span of the time when I should have a lucrative practice, ride in my carriage, and own a brown-stone front, when the strange and heart-chil-Ing words fell upon my ears, causing all ray pleasant fancies to drft away iu an instant. “Will you buy my body, sir?” I sprang from my easy chair, dropping mj- well-colored meerschaum in my astonishment, and turned to see who it was, that, like Poe’s raven, had uttered those terrible words. . Will you buy my body, sir?” y The question was repeated for the second time, before I hand sufficient!}' recovered mayself to become convinced that it come from no ill-omened bird,but from a form of human semblance, at least Yet the question was so utterly unuusal so much at variance with all preconceived notions of barter and sale, that all I could do was to push a chair toward the intruder, and stand in silent wonderment. In a few moments the self command I had learned duriilg my hospital practice came to may aid, and I saw that my visitor was a woman, —or n girl, rather, for she could not have been more than nineteen or twenty at the utmost; and that, if it had not been extreme pallor of the face, the pinched-up look about the mouth, and the sad sunken eyes, she would have possessed, far more tljfin is ordinarily the case, the rare gift of beauty. The flickering light of the fire flashed upon the soft, brown hair, giving it a more golden glory, and dissolving the snow-flakes that had lodged there, making them glitter like liquid pearls. This much, and that the dress aiul shawl were of the cheapest material, and but a poor defence against the howling storm and pitiless cold, and the strage reduest darted again with lightning rapidity through my brain. “Draw nearer to the fire,” said I. “You are numbed, Warm your self, and ” “I have no time, and must not stay, she answered with a sign, though she dropped heavily in her face with her thin hands. Without waiting for further remonstrance, I hastened to get some reviving medicine, of which I she saw stood much in need, and with a gentle force, held it to her lips. “I cannot, I cannot,” she gasped, half pushing it away. “You must,” I insisted. Remember that 1 am a physician, that this is a prescription, and that your life may depend upon it.” “Life! Oh, God ! How long and and! Will it give me strength?” •'That certainly is the object I have in urging you to take it What else should it be ?” “Give it me.” And she swallowed it without a murmur, save one of thankfulness. I wheeled her chair up nearer the fire, and stirred the coals to a more brilliant glow, hoping that tlie potion would quiet her excitement awake the chilled blood to a warmer, swifter, glow, and that sleep would follow. Auddor a moment, I fancied, I was right The little hands dropped nervelessly into her lap; the softly veiled lids drooped over the deep-blue eyes; The head fell forwand upon the breast But else I it was a momentary delusion. In another instant she sprang to her feet again, pressed her hands upon her temples, as if to still their

throbbings, and looked wildly a round. “Oh, God!” she exclaimed, “I here, amid warmth and comfort, and ” Convulsive sobs choked any further utterance. • “Sit down and tell me the reason of your coming here,” I almost commanded, as I placed her in the chair. “Ah! I remember all, now. Re member! Is there no such thing as forgetfulness ? Yes, I remember all. I came here to —to ” “Be calm, I understand you are in need, and came for assistance.” “I came,” she replied, and looked on me with utter despair, and spoke so calmly that it made my blood run cold ; “I came, doctor, to sell you ipy body. Was I talking to a woman or a maniac? The latter was certainly my thought; but I could detect nothing in the clear, blue eyes of the wanderings of insanity.— “Sell her body!” She spoke of it as an every-day transaction. “Great heaven!” I exclaimed laying my fingers upon her pulse with the expectation of finding it bounding with race-horse rapidity, but, on the contrary, finding it far more calm than my own. “Great heaven! You cannot be in earnest!” “I am in earnest. God alone knows how much in earnest. It was my last resort. Will you buy it!” And she reached out her hand toward me as a miser would have done, who heard the dear sound of jingling gold. “How can I purchase it when you are still alive ?” “But I will soon de dead, and then—then you can claim it. For the love of the heavens, give me a little, just a little money.” And the hitherto dry eyes were flooded with tears. “Why do you wish to sell it ?— You cannot but understand that it is an unheard of proceeding. Our profession never purchase bodies (how I shudered as I gazed into her face while I was forcing myself to calmly utter the words) before death, no matter what they may do after.” “I know it: but I must have money, and there is no other means left me to get it. I must have it now—instantly.” And she would have risen again but I resolutely held her down. “For what purpose do you wish it’” “To purchase food, fire, and medicine.” “For yourself ?” “Ah! no. Had that been the case, I never would have come hither. I would have laid down in the gutter and died. God knows how willingly.” “But tell me,” she continued, almost fiercely, will you give me some money ? I must have it—must have it.” “If not fcr yourself, in the name of heaven for whom would you make such a fearful sacrifice. Is it for one whs is very near and dear to you ?” “It is—is—my little sister.” X : The words dropped from those of an angle, and her face wore as holy a light as if she had been already star-crowned. “Then she is sick ?” “She is dying! dying! and lam sitting idly here !*’ “Why did you not tell me thus before ?” . “Because I had begged so long in vain. I had no money to pay the doctor, and who would go forth on such a night as this without it?” My blood boiled so that I could not answer. Could there be such ineu ? Alas! reason told me in a moment that her words were but too true, and I almost cursed my race. Without delay I gathered up such things as I thought might be of service, wrapped the delicate form in a heavy cloak, and, with a few whispered words of comfort we sallied out together into tbe black night, and merciless storm and cold. Fortunately the distance we had to travel was but a short one. A few blocks passed, and she led me up several flights of dismal, creaking stairs, into a room. “Florence, is that you ?” I heard asked by what my ear convinced me was a pair of childish, almost infantile lips. “Yes, my darling, lie still for a moment” “I am so glad. You have been so long—so very long away, and it was so dark; and I have been so frightened at the strange noise!” My fair guide had been making preparations,to obtain a light, but when she heard these words, she flew to the other side of the room and I knew many warm kisses 1 were given and returned.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said, as she turned and lighted the remnant of a candle. “Excuse me, but I have been so long away from Bessie.” I answered not. Her voice had a melody in it, now attuned by love, that I wished to linger unbroken upon my ear, like the strains of some songs I have heard which haunted me for years. In a moment the candle shed a sickly light around the little room. Little, indeed, and unfurnished to nothingness! One scantily-cov-ered bed was all! But within, I saw a sweet face that made me forget all else. I approached it, and laid my hands on the pulse of the little sufferer. “Who are you?” she asked, drawing back in alarm. “He is a doctor, Bessie; a dear, good, kind friend,” replied her sister; and from that moment she became perfectly passive in my hands. It did not require one learned in the science of materin medica to see what was required. I made th proper prescription, saw that it was tenderly, administed, told the elder sister that I would be back in a few moments, and resisting all attempts to light me down stairs, groped my way into the street. I had noticed an eat-ing-house at but a little distance, as we came along, and, a statement of the case, backed by the all powerful king of the world, gold, soon procured the loan of a disused stove, a couple of chairs, fuel, light and proper food, and in a brief half-hour the little room wore something like an air of com fort- Another hour the eyes of the child were closed in slumber and I urged her sister to seek repose, but in vain. “At least lie down and let me cover you with my cloak,” I urged. “No, doctor,” was the constant reply, “I cannot, I am so happy. It must have been God that directed my wandering footsteps to you.” And so we sat, with the nightwind roaring without, watching the almost angelic face of tlie peacefully slumbering child, sat aud talked of what I was most anxious to hear. But the conversation of those long, dark hours can be condensed into a vefy brief space. She who would have sold her body for the sake of giving a little longer life to her sister, was the daughter of at least supposed wealth. But a few years previously she could have held her head as high as the Both birth and education fitted her for it. But misfortunes came, —a series of disasters upon land and sea, against which no human fore thought could guard, combined with treachery and in gratitude of the deepest dye. swept away all— In their footsteps followed the death of the mother, leaving an infant but a few months old. The fond father struggled against the tide manfully, for a brief time, when his health gave way, and ho followed his wife through the dark valley, and beyond the shining river, leaving the elder sister to provide for the younger. “For a time,” continued the poor girl, “1 was able to live comfortably by the sale of the furniture and articles of value that I possessed. Then—why should I unbosom myself to a stranger ?” She asked, stopping sundenly, and looking me full in the fwe. “Because,” I replied, with a smile at her earnestness, “because you have found a true heart, and one that can feel for you.* “Yes, may heaven be thanked! I feci that it is so- Well, I struggled on—no, fought were the better won!,” she continued, with the lines about her mouth suddenly becoming hard. “I fought for life, sometimes teaching, sometimes sewing,—in short doing anything that my strength permitted, until sickness came; still I did not give way to despair. Truly I was bound to the stake, —a sweet one, —my darling sister.— Os the insults I received while seeking for work, I shall never speak. They must remain forever locked up in mj’ own breast;” and the pallid fnee flushed to scarlet, even at the thought. “And found no employment F’ “None. Piece by piece I parted with the little furniture that I was the possessor of, until what you see was all that remained.” “My poor child.” “It is true”—l saw that she was nerving herself to tell me something that was paineful, and would bare stopped her, but she resolutely continued. “It is true some money was offered me by more than one man, but I instantly and indignantly hurled it back in my insultcr's face Then, great heav-

en ! upon this bitter night, with all my hope, I determined to sell my body to some surgeon.” “What in the name of heaven could have put such an idea in your head ?” “I don’t know. I cannot tell-.— Somewhere I had either read or heard of something of the kind.” “You must have been very desperate,” “On the verge of distraction.— I had but one dream, one desire, —to save my darling even a single hour of pain.” “Have you no relatives ?” - “Not a single one that I know of. Both ot my parents were only children .when their parents came from foreign lands.” She paused and turned to smooth the hair of the slumber ing Beisse, and imprint a kiss on the curl wreathed and snowy brow; and I thought what desperate trials one like her must have passed through iu order to bring her mind to look calmly upon giving herself to the knife and the ribald jests of the dissectingroom ! And I thought, too, of the sterling truth of her young heart that could resist the allurements of gold, when so hedged by want and pain in their most terrible shapes. I thought, too — but she interrupted mo by saying : “My kind—indeed, I might say only friend—whom God raised up for me in the hour when all was darkness and misery, and black death and a pauper's grave stared •me in the face. My kind friend—but I am—have been keeping you from rest.” “Me! A physician’s rest is one that is constantly broken in upon, and—will you pardon me?—l had never had my heart so deeply touched, nor my feelings so much interested in all my life.” A faint rose-blush crept up from the exquisitely moulded throat, and mantled the soft cheeks. She took my hand and pressed it to her lips, leaving a warm, lingering kiss upon it. Did I suddenly build any castles in Spain ? When the morning-light broke again over the gay city, the stonn had ceased, and nature smiled, — coldly, it is true, but brilliantly.— There was a peaceful breakfast served in that little room, but the dinner was served iu far other quarters. As I write these lines, I, with some at least, of my dreams of wealth and position realized, sit in a cozy study, and listen to the ; wrathful bowlings the tempest ■ without. There is a* beautiful,; brown-haired woman sewing near, j and a spirits of a girl decorating a I snow-white kitten with crimson ribbons, on the rug in front of the glowing grate. I look up suddenly from the book I was reading, at the former. Our eves met. Are we both thinking of the past? It may be so. She steals softly behind my chair, and twines her arms around my neck. “Darling, do you remember such a night as this, scarcely a year ago,” she asks. “Yes ; I was thinking of it” “And of what brought me to IM ° you: “Yes.” She bends still nearer to me. li feel her warm breath upon my | checks. I feel her fervent kiss, — ; such a one as only a young and lovelj- wife can give, nnd I hear, as it were whispered rather by spirit than by mortal lips. “Now, my darling, I am yours body and soul.” Gold for Cotton. There is a movement at several of the cotton ports of the South in favor of the transaction of all cotton business on the gold basis. The cotton of the South will com maud its price in gold in the European market, aud the factors and planters are anxious that this gold : should get into their hands and be used as currency, as it was before | the war. The cotton crop of the ; present year, if sold for specie at the present price* would realize the southern planters between three aud four hundred millions of dollars in gold; and though it is against the interest of England and other cotton purchasing countries to pay for it in coin, it is un doubtedly for the interest of the South to sell for coin as far as possible. The Terre Hante Exprets says: A few days since two disciples of good old Isaac Walton, caught with hook and line twenty-seven bass in the Wabash just above the railroad bridge. i * A company has been formed i in Lafayette for mining and boatI ing coal from Coal Creek to that • city by the canaL a distance of fiftv miles.

THE BATTUE OF MEW OR* LEANS. Gen. Jackson’s Tse of Cotton Bales~-A Contribution to History. Our venerable fellow-citizCn , Chas. Harrod, who lives among us in the quiet autum of his life, honored and respected for his virtues and his good deeds, has furnished us with the following contribution to the history of theever-glorioua battle of the Bth of January, 1815. It has been said that the generally received account that cotton bales were used as breastworks at that battle was a myth; and many other conflicting reports respecting them, have somewhat weakened men’s trust in' the assertions of written and printed history. It is that there still lives a witness, whose personal connection with the use of the cotton gives him knowledge of the effectiveness and of the disposal of it; and that he has thus given to tlie world the facts to be treasured up and recorded in such future editions of existing histories, or future chronicles thereof, as may hereafter be published. “New Orleans, March 19,1869. —Messrs. Editors of the Picayune — Gentlemen: Understanding that a discussion is now going on in England as to the number of bales of cotton that were used by order ot Gen. Jackson in the lines, on the Bth of January, 1815, and having some knowledge of that transaction, I am induced to hand you a copy of a note addressed to a friend of mine, dated July 1, 1861, and that friend, I think, hand • ed it to Win. 11. Russell, Esq., one of the correspondents of : the London Times: “New Orleans, July 1, 1861.— Dear Sir: At.,your request, I hand you the following memorandum, showing the Dumber of cotton bales sent to the American lines for use in 1814 and 1815. At that time I took notes relating to the matter, wLich notes were burned some years ago with my office. “After the battle, on tlie night of Dec. 24, 1814, in which the quartermaster general, Col. Piatt, was’wounded, and at bis request, I was ordered by General Jackson to go into his office as his assistant. “About the 26th of December, 1814, an order was sent from headquarters to the quartermaster general to send to the lines, I think, 500 bales of -cotton; that order was placed in the hands of the writer to execute. At that time there was but few carts or drays in tho city, and all the roads leading from the city to the lines were so cut up i and muddy, that it was quite im- ! possible to transport the cotton by land. 9 “The brig Sumatra, belonging to ! Cornelius Paulding, Esq., was ly- [ ing at the levee at this time, part : ly loaded for France, having on , board 277 bales of cotton, shipped Iby Messrs. Vincent Nolte & Co. “A barge was hired and taken alongside of that brig, with orders to the brig to discharge the cotton into the barge, which was done; the 277 bales of cotton were taken to the lines: and there discharged (I believe about the 26th or 27th of December,* 1S14). No more cotton was sent to the lines at that or auy other time. “At that time the troops were busily employed in throwing up the breastworks and about 230 bales of cotton were taken to build j a magazine in the garden at headi quarters (and near this magazine ‘ Judah Touro, Esq., received his I wound). The cotton placed in this magazine was covered with earth, which made it the form of a sugar loaf. A part of the cotton wr| placed on end in the line, and a part in what was called the HalfMoon battery. During the battle, January Sth, 1815, and in subsequent bombardments, the enemy’s balls passed through the bales of cotton, they offering but slight resistance. The bales used in the magazine answered a very good purpose, and were not much damaged by the bombarding. “After peace was made known, all tile cotton remaining (some was i lost) was gathered together bj- order of Gen. Jackson, and sold for the benefit of whom it might concern, and the commissioners were named by the commanding general to determine in what way Messrs. Nolte & Co. should be compensat ed for the 277 bales of cotton taken from the brig Sumatra and used at the lines, Nolte <fc Co. to furnish the weights. “The commissioners named were Benjamin Morgan, Peter V. Ogden and W. W. Montgomery, all merchants and honorable men. The day the commission met, the price of cotton was 14 cents per pound, and that price was awarded to Messrs V. Nolte Jr Co., an<l they received the money at that price. I do not recollect what the cotton taken from the earthworks brought but think about 82,000 for tbe lot. “Respectfully, “Charles Harrod.”

No. 9.

The Mormon shoemakers are trying eo operation