Charles Black, over fifty, resides in Lombard Street. Was at home with his little boy unconscious of what was transpiring without. Suddenly, the mob rushed into his room, dragged him down stairs, and beat him so unmercifully that he would have been killed, had not some humane individuals interposed and prevented further violence. He was an impressed seaman on board an English sixty-four gun ship, in the beginning of the War of 1812. When he heard of the war, he refused to fight against his country, although he had nine hundred dollars prize money coming to him from the ship. He was, therefore, placed in irons, and kept a prisoner on board some time and then sent to the well known Dartmoor prison. He was exchanged, and shipped for France. Shortly after he was taken and sent back to Dartmoor—was exchanged a second time, and succeeded in reaching the United States. He soon joined the fleet on Lake Champlain, under M'Donough; was with him in the celebrated battle which gave honor (?) to the American arms. He was wounded, but never received a pension. His father was in the battle of Bunker Hill, and his grandfather fought in the old French War.
NEW JERSEY.
(From the Burlington (N. J.) Gazette.)
"I am One Hundred Years Old To-day."
The attention of many of our citizens has doubtless been arrested by the appearance of an old Colored man, who might have been seen sitting in front of his residence, in East Union Street, respectfully raising his hat to those who might be passing by. His attenuated frame, his silvered head, his feeble movements, combine to prove that he is very aged; and yet comparatively few are aware that he is among the survivors of the gallant army who fought for the liberties of our country, "in the days which tried men's souls."
On Monday last we stopped to speak to him, and asked him how he was. He asked the day of the month, and upon being told that it was the 24th day of May, replied with trembling lips, "I am very old—I am a hundred years old to-day."
His name is Oliver Cromwell, and he says he was born at the Black Horse (now Columbus) in this county, in the family of John Hutchin. He enlisted in a company commanded by Captain Lowery, attached to the 2nd New Jersey Regiment, under the command of Colonel Isaac Shreve. He was at the battles of Trenton, Princeton, Brandywine, Monmouth and Yorktown, at which latter place, he told us, he saw the last man killed. Although his faculties are failing, yet he relates many interesting reminiscences of the Revolution. He was with the army at the retreat of the Delaware, on the memorable crossing of the 25th of December, 1776, and relates the story of the battles on the succeeding days with enthusiasm. He gives the details of the march from Trenton to Princeton, and told us, with much humor, that they "knocked the British about lively" at the latter place. He was also at the battle of Springfield, and says that he saw the house burning in which Mrs. Caldwell was shot, at Connecticut Farms.