THE TWO SONNETS. BY LAWRENCE LABREE. WHEN the sad spirit of the earth grows weary, And droops beneath the weight of troublous thought, Finding that life's a desert waste, and dreary, And all its hopes of earthly bliss are naughtThat, like frail barks upon the vasty ocean, We're toss'd about by every wind that blows, Pining beneath a multitude of woes- As a bright land of promise and of bliss, To realms more pure, more fair, more blest than this. The gloomy chaos of the mind, a glow ROVER. Till from Despair's dark vale the soul is taught Into the realms of rapturous delight, ". . . . . . My next step was to proceed to Tappan, distant from this city [New York] twenty-four miles. Thither I went, accompanied by Mr. Moore, his majesty's agent for packets. Upon reaching the village, which does not contain above fifty or sixty houses, the first we inquired at proved to be the very house in which the Major had been confined while a prisoner there, kept by one Dupuy, who was also postmaster, who took us to view the room which had been used as his prison. Excited as we were, it would be difficult to describe our feelings on entering this little chamber; it was then used as a milk and store room-otherwise unaltered from the period of his confinement—about twelve feet by eight, with one window looking into a CALDWELL'S LANDING, STONY POINT, [WITH AN ENGRAVING.] THE scenery on the Hudson is renowned the world over, and from the borders of this noble river the history of our country has drawn some of its most inter-garden, the view extending to the hill, and directly to esting records. Our engraving in the present number the spot on which he suffered, as the landlord pointed of the Rover gives a view of Stony Point, with its out from the window, while in the room, the trees light house, and Haverstraw bay, about forty miles growing at the place where he was buried. from New York. Haverstraw is the nothern town in Rockland County, and Stony Point and Caldwell's Landing are in the nothern part of the town, and at the entrance of the ever memorable "highlands." This vicinity and these waters are rich in revolutionary history. The successful storming of Stony Point by General Wayne, when in the possession of the British, was among the most brilliant achievements of the war. Our soldiers were ordered not to fire a gun, but to force their way into the centre of the enemy's works at the point of the bayonet. The order was literally and faithfully obeyed; our men approaching in two columns from different points, pressed forward in the face of the most tremendous and incessant fire of musketry, and cannon loaded with grape shot, and overcoming every obstacle, the two columns met in the centre of the enemy's fortifications, taking upward of five hundred prisoners. The British, according to General Wayne's return had sixty-three killed, and Congress afterward ratified the promise, and paid the reward. Congress also gave the value of the ordnance and stores taken, amounting to upward of a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, to the officers and men who were engaged in the action, and the amount was dívided among them in proportion to their rank and pay. In this vicinity, too, was the scene of the capture, confinement, and execution of the lamented Andre. The melancholy story of this heroic but ill-fated man has been often told, and must be familiar to most of our readers. The story of the disinterment and removal of his remains to his native country, after they had slumbered near half a century on the banks of the Hudson, we apprehend, is not so familiar, and therefore have we concluded to transfer the account in this connection to the pages of the Rover. In the summer of 1831, the Duke of York commissioned J. Buchanan, Esq., late British Consul at New York, to have the remains of Major Andre removed to England, and from Mr. Buchanan's own account of the transaction we extract the following interesting details: the Americans fifteen. General Wayne had offered a reward, before the engagement, of five hundred dollars to the first man who should enter the enemy's works; four hundred to the second, three hundred to the third, two hundred to the fourth, and one hundred to the fifth. VOL. II.-No. 2. "Having inquired for the owner of the field, I waited on the Rev. Mr. Demarat, a minister residing in Tappan, to whom I explained the object of my visit, who generously expressed his satisfaction at the honor, 'which at length,' to use his words, 'was intended the memory of Major Andre,' and assured me that every facility should be afforded by him. Whereupon we all proceeded to examine the grave, attended by many of the inhabitants, who by this time had become acquainted with the cause of our visit; and it was truly gratifying to us, as it was honorable to them, that all were loud in the expressions of their gratification on this occasion. "We proceeded up a narrow lane, or broken road, with trees at each side, which obscured the place where he suffered, until we came to the opening into the field, which at once led to an elevated spot on the hill. On reaching the mount we found it commanded a view of the surrounding country for miles. General Washington's head-quarters, and the house in which he resided, was distant about a mile and a half or two miles, but fully in view. The army lay encamped chiefly also in view of the place, and must necessarily have witnessed the catastrophe. The field, as well as I could judge, 18 CALDWELL'S LANDING AND STONY POINT. contained from eight to ten acres, and was cultivated; but around the grave the plough had not approached nearer than three or four yards, that space being covered with loose stones thrown upon and around the grave, which was only indicated by two cedar trees about ten feet high. A small peach tree had also been placed at the head of the grave, by the kindly feeling of a lady in the neighborhood. " "Doubts were expressed by many who attended, that the body had been secretly carried to England, and not a few believed we should not find the remains; but there surmises were set aside by the more general testimony of the community. . . . . Arriving at Tappan by ten o'clock, A. M., though I was not expected until the following Tuesday, as I had fixed, yet a number of persons soon assembled, some of whom betrayed symptoms of displeasure at the proceeding, arising from the observations of some of the public journals, which asserted that any honor paid Major Andre's remains was casting imputation on General Washington, and the officers who tried him.' As these characters were of the lowest cast, and their observations were condemned by every respectable person in the village, I yet deemed it prudent, while the worthy pastor was preparing his men to open the grave, to resort to a mode of argument, the only one I had time or inclination to bestow upon them, in which I was sure to find the landlord a powerful auxiliary. I therefore stated to these noisy patriots, that I wished to follow a custom not unfrequent in Ireland, from whence I came, namely, of taking some spirits before proceeding to a grave. The landlord approved the Irish practice, and accordingly supplied abundance of liquor, so that in a short time, General Washington, Major Andre, and the object of my visit, were forgotten by them, and I was left at perfect liberty, with the respectable inhabitants of the place, to proceed to the exhumation, leaving the landlord to supply the guests, a duty which he faithfully performed, to my entire satisfaction. "At twelve o'clock, quite an unexpected crowd assembled at the grave-as our proceeding up the hill was seen by the inhabitants all around. The day was unusually fine; a number of ladies, and many aged matrons who witnessed his fall-who had seen his person-who had mingled tears with his sufferings attended, and were loud in their praises of the prince, for thus at length honoring one who still lived in their recollection with unsubdued sympathy. The laborers proceeded with diligence, yet caution. Surmises about the body having been removed were revived, and it would be difficult to imagine any event which could convey a degree of more intense excitement. "As soon as the stones were cleared away, and the grave was found, not a tongue moved among the multitude-breathless anxiety was depicted in every countenance. When, at length, one of the men cried out he had touched the coffin, so great was the enthusiasm at this moment, that I found it necessary to call in the aid of several of the ladies to form an enlarged circle, so that all could see the operation; which being effected, the men proceeded with the greatest caution, and the clay was removed with the hands, as we soon discovered the lid of the coffin was broken in the centre. With great care the broken lid was removed, and there to our view lay the bones of the brave Andre, in perfect order. I, among others, for the first time discovered that he had been a small man; this observation I made from the skeleton, which was confirmed by some then present. The roots of the small peach tree had completely surrounded the skull like a net. After allowing all the people to pass round in regular order, and view the remains as they lay, which very many did with unfeigned tears and lamentation, the bones were carefully removed, and placed in the sarcophagus, (the circle having been again formed;) after which I descended into the coffin, which was not more than three feet below the surface, and with my own hands raked the dust together, to ascertain whether he had been buried in his regimentals or not, as it was rumored among the assemblage that he was stripped; for, if buried in his regimentals, I expected to find the buttons of the clothes, which would have disproved the rumor;* but I did not find a single button, nor any article save a string of leather that had tied his hair, in perfect preservation, coiled and tied as it had been on his hair at the time. This string I forwarded to his sister in England. I examined the dust of the coffin so minutely (as the quantity would not fill a quart) that no mistake could have arisen in the examination. Let no unworthy motive be attributed to me for recording this fact; I state it as one which I was anxious to ascertain for the reason given. Having placed the remains in the sarcophagus, it was borne amid the silent and unbought regret of the numerous assemblage, and deposited in the worthy pastor's house, with the intention of removing it to his majesty's packet, in New York City, on the Tuesday following. 1 "As soon as the removal of the sarcophagus to the packet was known in this city, it was not only honorable to the feelings of the citizens, but cheering to my mind, depressed as it had been, to find the sentiments which prevailed. Ladies sent me flowers; others, various emblematic devices, garlands &c., to decorate the remains of the lamented and beloved Andre.' “A beautiful and ornamental myrtle among those sent I forwarded with the sarcophagus to Halifax, where Lieut. General Sir James Kempt, governor of Nova Scotia, caused every proper mark of respect to be paid to the remains. From thence they reached London, and were deposited near the monument which had been erected to his memory in the Abbey, and a marble slab placed at the foot of the monument, on which is set forth their removal by the order of his royal highness the Duke of York. "Having represented to his royal highness the generous conduct of the Reverend Mr. Demarat, I recommended that his royal highness should convey to him a snuff-box, made out of one of the trees which grew at the grave, which I sent home. But my suggestion was far outdone by the princely munificence of his royal highness, who ordered a box to be made out of the tree, and lined with gold, with an incription, 'From his Royal Highness the Duke of York, to the Rev. Mr. Demarat.' While speaking of this act of liberality, I was unexpectedly honored with a silver inkstand, with the following inscription :-'The surviving sisters of Major Andre to James Buchanan, Esq., his Majesty's Consul, New York.' They also sent a silver cup, with a suitable inscription, to Mr. Demarat. I need not add, that I cherish this inkstand, (which I am now using,) and shall bequeath it to my children as a memorial which I prize with no ordinary feeling. * It has since been ascertained, from an American officer present at the burial, that th: regimentals of Major Andre were given to his servants, after his execution. This statement has satisfied Mr. Buchanan, a d will account for the absence of any vestiges in his tomb. THE ROBBER OF THE MISSISSIPPI VALLEY. "I omitted to mention, that I had the peach tree suffer that heavy newspaper package, with the coarse which had been planted on the grave, (the roots of brown wrapper, to lie upon that delicately folded letter which had surrounded the skull, as set forth,) taken with so neat a direction; it must be a love note. How up with great care, with as much of the clay as it was many tender words and almost written sighs may it possible to preserve around the roots, and brought it to contain-dear to the writer and the receiver. And I my garden in New York. where my daughters attended am right-it is a love epistle. Yonder stands the forit with almost pious solicitude, shading it during the tunate owner, intently gazing upon one little corner heat of the day, watering it in the cool of the evening, which protrudes from beneath the heavy bundle above in the hope of preserving it to send to England. Had it. Postman remove the package and gladden his it reached his sisters, they would no doubt have regard-eyes with a full view of the much looked for letter! ed it as another Minerva; for, though it did not spring "Mail ahoy!" shouts the driver who was once a out of, yet it was nourished by their beloved brother's sailor, "I'm behind my time and the roads are rough." head. At length the letters are assorted, the straps of the "I have only to add, that, through the kind inter-bag are united, and the padlock clasped firmly in their ference of my brother consel at Philadelphia, I obtain- embrace; the driver has it between his feet, and the ed Major Andre's watch, which he had to part with coach moves slowly on. when a prisoner during the early part of the war. This watch I sent to England lately; so that I believe every vestige connected with the subject of this narrative has been sent to the land of his birth, in the service of which his life was sacrificed." "Any letter for me?" inquired a would-be majestically looking man with a red face, and who is studiously endeavoring to split his teeth with the knob of huge gold pencil. THE VILLAGE POST OFFICE. THE arrival of the mail in a village is always a great event to the loungers and do-nothings-that class of men who having nothing to do themselves, from a mingled motive of benevolence and curiosity, are par-kins." ticularly zealous to superintend that of others. They expect the coach as anxiously as if the interests of the nation depended upon its "coming in regular season." "Mail in ?" inquires one of the loungers who has just entered the office, and who, so far from expecting a letter, has never received one in his life. "The mail is rather tardy," suggests a modest individual, who, having written a scrap of poetry for a city periodical, is impatiently awaiting its appearance. "Its a coming," shouts a little urchin who has run until a profuse perspiration covers his face and neck, and who, on being rewarded for his promptitude by a new penny, immediately invests it in a "stick of lemon." 19 "In a moment, Judge," responds the now modest official, sufficiently abashed by the haughty tone of the inquirer to respond in a less consequential manner than he is wont. "Hello!" cried the clerk, very undignifiedly, "I guess the mysterious stranger has got a letter at last; here's a double one directed to the care of Widow Per But the padlock is now removed-that padlock which has the happiness and well being of so many entrusted to its care-the bag is turned, and how gracefully the contents roll out; yet how cruel is the postmaster to "His name! His name!" shouts a dozen eager voices. "Veni," suggests the schoolmaster, who has just returned from expounding Cesar's note, “ Veni, Vidi, Vici," to a pumpkin headed youth who rendered it— "I came with a hand saw and conquered!" But the papers are distributed. The lover has his epistle, the merchant his check, the school-teacher his recommendation, the lawyer his certificate of commission, the lounger his neighbors' papers. Reclining upon the counter they patronizingly, for the present, Instantly all eyes are directed to the stage coach peruse them, yet never think how much better it would which is rumbling slowly over a stony road; and one be for th mselves, the printer, and the Post-Office Dewould suppose it contained some animal hitherto un-partment, if they also subscribed for a copy, and read known, or was a traveling managerie, so steady is the it at home to their wives and children. gaze of the multitude. But the coach draws up before the office door and the immense cloud of dust subsides. J. M. F. "John Smith," answers the clerk, "and its got a wax seal with the picter of an old woman rushing to the arms of a young man, while beneath them is inscribed-Venice." What does it matter to the crowd upon the stoop, if there is a handsome brunette upon the middle seat, or a sparkling black-eyed widow behind her, or a steady old gentleman before her. He may be a member of Congress, and surely his well combed wig, and gold tipped cane entitle him to a respectful bow or glance? But no! All eyes are fixed solely upon the mail bag, which the driver has handed to the clerk, who has conveyed his precious burden to an inner counter. The crowd even turn their backs upon the inmates of the About the year 1802, the wilderness was infested by coach. What shameful conduct! Yet behold how a notorious freebooter, who, with two sons, and a dignified the old gentleman with the well combed wig few other desperate miscreants, were the terror of appears, as, without noticing the insult, he cooly and the peaceful traveler. From the morasses of the unconcernedly scratches his upper lip with the shining southern frontier, to the silent shores of the Tennessee head of his hickory cane. river, the name of Mason and his band, was known and dreaded. Their depredations, became at length, so frequent and daring, that the citizens of the adjoining Territories, were driven to adopt measures for their suppression; but the knowledge of the wilderness, THE ROBBER OF THE MISSISSIPPY VALLEY. BEFORE the introduction of steamboats into the waters of the Mississippi, the vast wilderness, through which people traveled and transported their goods in that part of the country, was infested with numerous banditti, and a journey of any distance, through woods or unsettled places, was performed with great peril. |