Alexandria Gazette, Commercial And Political

From a late English Paper.

HOAX AT CHESTER

A correspondent arrived in this neighborhood from Chester, has stated to us the following account of a curious trick lately played off in that town. A short time ago a respectable looking man caused a number of handbills to be distributed through Chester in which he informed the public, that a great number of genteel families had embarked at Plymouth, and would certainly proceed with the British regiment appointed to accompany Bonaparte to St. Helena. He added further, that the Island being dreadfully infested with rats, his majesty's ministers had determined that it should be forthwith effectually cleared of these noxious animals. To facilitate this important purpose, he had been deputed to purchase, in the course of a week, as many cats and thriving kittens as could possibly be procured for money in that short space of time, and therefore, he publicly offered in his handbills, 16s. for every athletic full grown tom-cat, 10s. for every adult female puss, and half-a-crown for every thriving, vigorous kitten, that could swill milk, pursue a ball of thread, or fasten its young claws in a dying mouse. On the evening of the third day after this advertisement had been distributed, the people of Chester were astonished with an irruption of a multitude of old women, boys and girls, into their streets, every one of whom carried on their shoulders either a bag or a sack, which appeared pregnant with some restless animal that seemed laboring into birth. Every road every lane was thronged with this comical procession--and the wondering spectators of the scene were involuntarily compelled to remember the old riddle about St. Ives--

"As I was going to St. Ives,
I met fifty old wives,
Every wife had fifty sacks,
Every sack had fifty cats,
Every cat had fifty kittens.
Kittens, cats, sacks and wives,
How many were going to St. Ives?"

Before night-fall, a congregation of nearly 5000 cats were collected in Chester. The happy bearers of these sweet voiced creatures, proceeded all (as directed by the advertisement,) towards one street with their delectable burdens. Here they became closely wedged together. A vocal concert soon ensued. The women screamed--the cats squalled--the boys and girls shrieked treble, and the dogs of the street howled bass, so that it soon became difficult for the nicest ear to ascertain whether canine--feline--or the human tones were predominant.--Some of the cat bearing ladies, whose dispositions were not of the most placid nature, finding themselves annoyed by the pressure of their neighbors, soon cast down their burdens, and began to box. A battle royal ensued. The cats sounded their war-whoop with might and main. Meanwhile the boys of the town, who seemed mightily to relish the sport were actively employed in opening the mouths of the deserted sacks, and liberating the cats from their forlorn situation.

The enraged animals bounded immediately on the shoulders and heads of the combatants, and ran spitting, squalling and clawing along the undulating sea of skulls, towards the walls of the houses of the good people of Chester. The citizens attracted by the noise, had opened their windows to gaze at the fun. Into these windows the cats instantaneously sprang, taking possession of the rooms by a novel kind of storm or escalade. The cats in their sudden assault on the drawing rooms and other apartments of the Chesterites, rushed with the rapidity of lightning up the pillars, and then across the balustrades and galleries for which the town is so famous, and slap dash through the open windows into the apartments. Never since the days of the celebrated Hugh Lupus were the drawing rooms of Chester filled with such a crowd of unwelcome guests. Now were heard the crash of broken china--the howlings of affrighted lap dogs--the cries of distressed damsels, who wept their torn faces and disheveled charms--and the groans of fat old citizens, rushing and tumbling forward towards the balconies, bald, bare, and bleeding. All Chester was soon in arms, and dire were the deeds of vengeance executed on the feline race. It is needless to recite the various combats that took place between the cats and the men. Suffice it that our correspondent counted 500 dead bodies floating next day on the river Dee, where they had been ignominiously thrown by the two-legged victors. The rest of the invading host having evacuated the town, dispersed in utter confusion, carrying with them, however, their arms from the field of battle.