aiccotztzt of ._-‘.’:e escape of u ./uc.t..:c.u.-. J-‘ruin. GI-D
Itzqttisitiott prison, at Lisbon;
[co.\"t‘inUi~;n.]
One morning, as he stood in the gallery with
the guards, the majordomo, hro’t a note to the al-
c-aide. The alcaide immediately ordered six of
them to take their carbines; 'l'his was their ti-
sual sign that they were about to conduct a pris-
oner to the mesa or holy ofl'ice—-Zamora was go-
ing to retire, when the alcaide saidto him,‘ Come
you also with us, you‘ will behold a quarter you
are as yet not acquainted with.’ These words
made him tremble with anxiety. He followed
them. The alcaide opened a door, which till
then Zamora had always seen shut. They ascen-
ded to an upper floor and came to a gallery less
dark than-that below. ‘ This is the quarter of the
Ilidalgus, or people of quality’ said the alcaide.-—
At last they arrived at one chamber, the bars were
withdrawn, the double doors were opened ; You
are summoned said the alcaide to the prisoner
within ; a person then came forth, it was Estevan
himself. VVhat a moment to Zamora; what sur-
prise! Estevan proceeded with his eyes fixed
upon the ground he raised them and beheld his
faithful follower. Zamora, shuddering with ter-
ror lest some slight gesture might occasion
the destruction of both, placed his finger upon
his lips. Estevan understood the signal,and went
forward without betraying the least emotion.-‘-
Zamora being thus set at ease, suffered him to
proceed with his escort, and availing himself of
the confidence which he enjoyed in the house, re-
turned, during the absence of Estevan to his dun-
geon, the door of which was left open ; he exa-
mined its position, upon‘ what external part of
the building the window opened, ‘how many bars
secured it, and what height it stood from the‘
ground.
bout fifty feet. No windows, where any dan-
. erous observation couldbe made, were directed
3
tpwards this quarter : this was all. he wanted to
know. He came forth, and nobody’ observed
him. He then descended and waited Estevan’s
return. For along time Zamora hadbeen ready
to take advantage of any fortunate event. After
a lapse of about two hours Estevan returned‘ with
the same retinue, their eyes again met, and much
meaning was in the glance. Being’ arrived at
the door of the ,dungeon Estevanentered, the al-
caide was about to bolt the door, the officious Za-
mora otfered to spare him‘ the trouble, and, pre-
tending to employ soine force, and drawing close
the inner door, he passed -his hand-through the
wicket by which the food of the prisoner is intro-
duced, and let a small billet fall within, then, hav-
ing shut both the doors, he retired with the guards
and the alcaide. Estevan snatched this billet as
It was over the garden, elevation as
s
E palladium of - his fate; and read, courage,
zticrzce, silence, attention, and a'bo-be all, tear after
‘re ma; VVhat" a _ino'tfient l‘ what transport!
i soon as they had ascentled the stairs" the’ al-
ide said to Zamora, ‘ He did ‘not recognize you,
observed him attentively, not the least symp-
m of emotion escaped him.’ ‘ It was owing to
a passing suddenly from darkness into light,’
swered Zamora: ¢ _a,id whatif he had recog-
led me’ ? In coming here I have done my du-
I and let him‘ do his;’ ‘ That is well said,’ re-
ed the valcaide,’ but when are you to be bapti-
1 ? ‘ I know not, in three or four months, as
reverence promised me : my Godmother has
.e to Madrid, andhe waits for her return.——
., Hr. Alcaidc, you must be fatigued, a glass
wine and a biscuit will not be unacceptable,
us, ascend to my chamber.’ ‘ \Vith all my
rt. ‘
l‘he evening came, and Zamora being atlcngth
ie, could indulge in the excess of his joy, and.
ditate on what remained to be done, to crown
h success, an eilterprisé which he had hither-
onducted with so much skill’. - The most dan-
ous step was by unexpected good fortune,pros-
ously accomplished. Estevan knewthat his
nd was near, and must suspect his intentions ;
y had seen one another, and no suspicion had
-) excited. He was therefore free from all ap-
"cnsion in that quarter, but when would an-
‘r opportunity of seeing him occur ? should
,ait until he was again summoned to an an-
;''ce I Alas, that might not be for along time .:
Inquisition is slow in its proceedings. His
tatience excited him to action, heiresolyed to
-‘end upon his own address, upon fortune which
hitherto been soipropitious, and upon the fa-
.-and protection of Heaven, which he hum-
hopedwould be propitious to innocence.
(To be contznztcd.)
‘ -—--nt--:::-e:-‘=-'-—-— .
Fronz 2‘/ze flmericmz Ccntincl.
PRIVATE BF-NEFICENCE.
.'he subsequent narration is no idle fiction of
brain ; we vouch for its authenticity, and no
at but marzy of our readers are already ac-
inted with the names and circumstances do-
ed. \Ve shall ever feel pleasure in embel-
.ng our columns with such instances of pri-
: beniftcence, so honorable to the cause of_hu-
nity, and we cannot but anticipate a concur-
:e in opinion of our patrons "and" correspond-
5.
.n the year 1806, a professional gentlenian of
s city had obtained a judgment for a few hun-
:d dollars against an old infirm gentleman,who
l formerly been a Commissary to the United
ites’ army. during the revolut_ionary war, and
.o by repeated misfortunes had become redu-
J from easy circumstances, to absolute penury
J distress.’ An execution had been taken out,
:1 the advocate called on the sheriff of Phila-
lphia county, presented it to him, and request-
that it might be executed immediately. “ It
all be done, sir,” said the minister of" justice ;
»;l the gentleman was about leaving the apart-
-ant, when his ears were saluted with an excla-
ation not uttlike that which greeted corporal
rim,‘ as the beneficent and philanthropic Toby
tore, that the lieutenant should not sink, but
arch. “ The execution, (said he,) shall never
, served, by ;" then turning to his clerk,
-3 continued, “ give Mr. “ a check for
re amount.” The greatest astonishment was
t;cited—the eye of inquiry was [turned on the
sheriff, ‘ but the form of his visage had changed ;’
instead of the stern unbending features of a min-
ister ofjustice, his countenance seemed beaming
with seraphic mildness and unbounded benevo-
lence-‘-thc warm current of life, which for a mo-
ment had mantled his cheeks with crimson, had
again receded to the heart, but a ray of etherial
sweetness remained, which language is inade-
quate to pourtray.
“ I could wish,” said the gentleman, when his
astonishment had in some measure subsided,
“ that you would so far gratify me as to inform
me of the motives which have excited your mu-
tnificence in the present extraordinary manner.”
“ You shall have my reasons,” said the good Sa-
maritan, “ and then judge for yourself of the pro-
priety of my conduct.” In the month of De-
cember, 177?’, which you will recollect, was just
after the battle of Germantown, and when our ar-
my had retired to Valley Forge, I obtained from
Gen. VVashingt_on,‘ under whom I at that time
held a captain’s commission, a furlough of ab-
sence from the army for one month, for the pur-
pose of visiting my wife and three’small children.
It was at that period of the revolution, when our
army had scarcely any thing but their patriotism
with which to cover themselves, and little else
than a‘ love of liberty to afibrd them sustenance.
I set out .on my journey to Chesnut Hill, on foot,
consoling myself for the weariness of the Way,
with again folding to my bosom the partner of
my life, and the tender pledges of our conjugal
affection. As I turned from the highway into
the avenue which led to the scenes of. my former
domestic felicity, and beheld the moon-‘beams
playing on the leafless branches of the majestic
oaks. which were wont to shadow my humble
dwelling, how animated, how exquisite were the
sensations which took possession of my breast:
I was at that moment at the pinnacle of human
felic'tty—the next precipitated me into the abyss
of despair. The house which I fondly anticipa-
ted as sheltering all that was near and d-..ar to me,
was asmoaking heap of ruins. The desolatintg:
Briton had been there, and had left me to contem-
plate, in speechless agony, the devastation of his
sacrilegious hand. An appaling silence prevail-
ed, save only when interruptetl bythc hollow
blasts of the evening, as they swept through the
wide and melancholy waste. The -moon at this
moment emitted her feeble ray from‘ behind at
cloud, ct-‘tabled me to discover at a short distance
from the scene of misery and destruction, my
shivering wife and children, and from them I
learned, that the enemy, after having plundered
them‘ of tl'i'ei-r last rag, had set fire to the house,
and that one of the unfeeling monsters had cast
my little infant into the flamts; with much diffr-
culty it‘Wa's' "S-'£V¢'tli by its halfi distracted mother’.
To proceed, however, to that part of ‘the story
whiclr accounts for my conduct this morning ; as
soon‘ as daylight appeared, we set’ out» fo'r*Ne‘w--
Jersey, where I had some relations. The‘ situa-
tion of my family was‘ such, as could hardly have‘
failed to excite‘ commiseration in" abreast less in-
tercsted than mine. Seated in a wretched cart,
which was drawn by a feeble decrepit old horse,
without clothing sufficient to screen them from
the severity of the weather, they were destined
to pass the night with no other shelter than the
canopy of heaven, ere they could reach the place
of destination. VVhile engaged in meditating
in what manner the night could be best passedin
our present situation, '(lnrltness_began‘to_ overshad-
ow us; the wind” blew with inci‘e'ased violence,
and the rain poured down upon us in torrents.-
It was at this critical juncture, that a horseman‘
approached and inquired who I" was, and whither
I was going. After listening to :1’ hasty recital of
our misfortunes, he dismounted from his horse,
unfastened t/ie only blanket which he had toscreen
himself from the storm that raged, passed it
around the neck of my wife, and threw the ex-
tremities of it‘ over the heads of my shivering
clrildren'--Haring‘ done this, he dropt a tear upon
my hand, as he pressed it between his, gave me
his best wishes, and vaulting into his saddle, was
out of sight in a moment. And now, need I‘in-
forin you, that this man was acommissary in the
army, and the identical person against ‘whom the
iron hand of the law was this morning directed ;
or could you for a moment believe", that Ilcould’
seize on thepalsied frame of my family’s behe-
factor, and immure it within the cold inhospita-
ble walls. of’ a prison ?-—GoD ronntn E”--A’
gleam of exultation flashed across hiscotmten'ance'
as the last sentence passed emphatically from’
his lips. The advocate bowed in
and retired : the remaining auditors averted their
heads, as the benevolent and eloquent speaker
passed from before them. '
———t1:t-st‘.-_-is-£'—'-s
NIGHT.
Night has dropped her sable curtain, and ex-,
hausted nature has lain her wearied head on the
pillow of innocent sleep, sequestered from the
gay scenes of dissipation, and the watchful eye of
acensorious world.‘ The solemn silence,'the
awfulstillness, which pervades this temple ofthe
muses, ‘at this moment conspire totprepare
my youthful imagination to take its flight intp
the airy walks of excursive fancy. The air is
clear and tranquil, a cloudless sky scattered over
with resplendent stars, most beautifully embel-
lishes IllC_'olZUl‘C dome; the Goddess Cynthia,
enrobed in a silver vest, diffuses her glittering
rays upon the spangled surge, and all nature is
hushed into a pleasingrequiem. The imper-
fect semblance of day, caused by her borrow-
cd light, shining, through the distant wood in-
spires the mind with a placid melancho‘ly.-—
The gentle Zephyr whispers through the rust-
ling trees; the midnight (lamps infest the lucid
air ; the noisy bark of the faithful mastilf, assails
the attentive ear; the ruins of a neighboring
ing building adds to the gloomy landscape. At
this solemn.hour the'ambitious student enjoys ,
the sweets of retirement'; unfolds the luxuriant
page of history ; marks the dissimilarity of ages;
admires achievments of heroism, and spurns the
vile arts of treachery. He enriches his under-
standing with every source of knowledge, which
can either beguile the solitary hours of retire-
ment, or fit him to shine on the great theatre of
the world, whose complicated snares and tempta-
tions require the exercise of all otu' fortitude,
which, though bestowed by nature, can yet be
strengthened by perusing the histories of those
worthies who have overcome them, and by fol-
lowing the bright examples they exhibit for our
eticouragemcnt.
FRANKLIN‘S ECONOMY.
[FROM MEMOIRS or ms Lit-'E.:|
“ VVe have an English Proverb that says,
He that would thrive,
.Must aslr his wife ;”
It was lucky for me that I had one as much
disposed to industry and frugality as myself.-—
She assisted me cheerfully in my business, fold-
ing and stiching pamphlets, tending shop,‘ pur-
chasing old linen rags forjthe paper makers ,8cc.--
iVVe kept no idle servants, our table was plain
and simple, our furniture of the cheapest. For
en porringer, with a pewter spoon : but mark
how luxury will enter families, and make a prog-' _ _ j _
‘Wood, an unlicensed practitioner of physIc- I3:
ress in spite of principle ; being called one morn-
ing to breakfast, I found it in a china bowl, with _
a spoon of silver. They had been bought for
me, without my knowledge, by my wife, and had
cost her the enormous sum of three and twenty
shillings ; for which she had no other excuse or
apology to make, but that site thought her hus-
band deserved a silver spoon and a china bowl;
as well as any of his neighbors. This was the
first appearance of plate and china in our house,
which afterwards, in the course of a few years,
as our wealth increased, augmented gradually to
several hundred pounds in value.” J i
Good ./Id-az'ce.—Quit your pillow, and go about.
your business, if you have any--is its first in-
junction ; if not, seek some. Let the sun’s first
beams shine on your head in the morning, and
you shall not want a good hat to defend you a-
gainst its scorching rays at noon. Earn your
breakfast before you eat it, and the sheriff shall
not deprive you of your supper. Pursue your
calling with diligence, and your creditor shall
not interrupt you. Be temperate, antl the phy-
sician shall look in vain for your name on his day
book; If you have a small farm, or a trade, that
Wlll support your family, and add a hundred dol-
lars a year to your capital, be contented, and pey-
er go to Boston to buy land in Georgia,‘that is to
be made on the eighth day of the creation.
L
W'hen we look into a field of corn, we find '
those stalks which raise their heads the highest,
silence"
.y I!
the efiiptiest’--the satire is ‘the case with man ;
those who as'su'me t-1_‘;'e' greatest consequence have
‘geuerally "the le'ast*sllaré V of judgment and "ability.
. _ iiizitrii iaitzin 1u;'rziv'rAt~'cEVa. , . .
‘When the ‘edge of‘ the appetite is worn down, -‘
and the spirit of. youthful‘d‘a'ys are cooled,'whicl1 -
hurried usjoh in a‘ circle of pleasure and -imper-
tinence, then reason, and reflection willhave the
weight which ‘they deserve. Atnictitms, or the-
berl of sickness will" supply, the place __of con-
science ; and if they should fail, old ‘age will 0-
vertake us at last, and 'shcw'u‘s all tliepast pur-
suitof life, "and force us to look-upon theririn 3‘ ~
their true point of view. .If there be-any thing
-more to cast a cloud‘ upon so melancholy a pros-
pect as this shews us, it -is Surely the difficulty?
and hazard" of having all the ‘work of the day. to
performin the last hour‘,-: of making an atone.-‘
ment to God,'wl:en we have no sacrifice? to offer‘ .
_him, but‘ the drags ai1(l'ifififfl1ltl€S of -those days" _
when we coultl have no"pleasure in them‘.--n
Whatever stress some may lay upon it, 2} death-
-bed repentance is’ but a weak and slender plank
to trust our allupon. _
Could we draw‘ back the covering of the
‘tor‘n‘:>——c‘ould we see what those are now, who
once were rnortal-‘—-Oh 1 how woiild it surprise
and grieve us, to observe the dishonour dqne’ to‘
our nature in general, within these subterraneous
.lo'dgm‘e-nts ! Here‘ the sweet and winning aspect
-that were perpetually an attracting smile, grins
.horribly-—a naked, ghastly grin. The eye that
outshone the diam‘ond’s lustre, and glanced its
ilovely lightning into the most guarded heart-—
alas llwhere is it? 'Where*shall we find the
rqdllingsparkler’? How are all; those radient glo-
ries‘ totally eclipsed’? That tongue thatonce com‘-’
manded all the charms of harmony, and all the
lpowers of eloquence, in this strange land hath
forgot its cunning,‘--Wliere’ are the‘ strains’ of
melody which ravislted our ears ? Where is the
how of persuasion, which carried captive our
‘judgement 3 The great master. of language and
of song is become silent as the night which sur-
rounds him. ‘
-———-'*:¢5:39lt-€B1j'_‘-'-"-—-' ,
Rowing mate/1.-—At Norfolk on the 8th instant
an extraordinary instance, of speed in rowing
was displayed in a contest between the Custom
House gigwith six oars,and the swift small barge
‘of the British brig Cora with 4 cars.’ The run‘
Iwas little rising two miles; many were of opin-
ion that the small boat would pull tllefastest -
but the bets on each boat was about equal. -The
boats started, but seemed rather to fly than be
propelled by human strength. The Custom 0
House boat soon outstripped her antagonist, and
"came out nearly 100 yards ahead. The whole
distance was rowed in seven miuzdes and a half:
-—'j——
A letter in a Philadelphia paper motions that
there resides in a small village near the ‘ Allega-
ny mountains, a_ personage, reared in the splen-
dour of a court, a legitimatei son of Prince Gal-
' litzin of Russia.
He was taught the Roman cath-
olic religion by his mother, and is now a priest:
of that church, and exercises his sacred offices to
a large community of Irish emigrants- He re-'
ceives annual remittances from Europe, and is e-
recting a large chapel.
——j.—
Died, on Monday evening last, in Schenecta-
dy, Edward, the only son of Mrs. I. Brown, aged
8 years. The particulars of this boy’s death are
truly distressing—he had for some years been
subject to a disease which had produced a con-
traction of the legs, and a stiffness of the knee.
joints. His disease was by all regular [)‘.‘£1C,ll"
tioners considered incurable‘. A few xveeks ago_
the fame of VVilliam ‘Wood, an unlicensed prac»
titioner of medicine, who resided at the upper
part of the country, reached us. He was applied
to, and pronounced the cure practicable; The
child was accordingly taken to his house, and on
Monday morning be commenced his operations
by endeavouring to straighten the legs, which,
onaccount of the contraction of the muscles,
he could only accomplish by using great force,
During the operation, the child was in great ago-
ny, and much exhausted. Notwithstanding this,
he in a short time proceeded in the same manner,
and with the same-effects. He repeated the op-
eration a third, and a fourth time; about four‘
hours after which the child expired. VVood"was
"instance, my breakfast for a’ long time, bread and j immediately apprehended and committed to gaol.
' milk (no tea) and I eat it out of a two penny earth-
An inquest was held over the body of the deceas-
ed, and their verdict was; that his death‘ was oc-
casioned by the unwarrantable treatment of Wm.
appeared from the testimony; that VVo_od was-
much-intoxicated during the second or third, and
last operations, and that he is, a man scarcely ev-
er seen sober. 7 .
VVbat_L; _his punishment will be we cannot say ;
It canniot hardly be greater than he deserves —
There is not a more dangerous person in com-
3.
I
D
,.——-
L
»
munity than,_h.e who thus imposes himself upon ._ _ '
the credulity"of the ignorant. All We have I0
remark on the present case is, that the commu-
nity should be more and more cautious in the
employment of such pretenders.
Sc/zenectatlypd-ug'. l4. '
= PAMPHLETS,
HANDBILLS, CAI{DS, TOWN -
—._
Does
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ORDERS and RECORDS,
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Norwalk Chronicler