A Scotchman, named Gregor MacGregor, claiming to be chief of the clan which bears his name, formed the idea of creating a settlement on the shores of the Black River. The first appearance of this man in a public character was in the service of the patriots of Spanish America. Under the florid title of “General of Brigade of the Armies of the United Provinces of New Granada and Venezuela, and General-in-chief of the Armies destined against the Floridas,” he succeeded in seizing a place known as Amelia Island, which he proposed to use for purposes of aggrandizement. His views proving fallacious, he vacated it, and was next heard of as carrying, with a trifling force, the rich town of Portobello. Here he addressed to his men a manifesto, in which gold and glory, plunder and patriotism, equally occupied its periods. Scarcely was it issued, however, ere the force of MacGregor was surrounded, and the great general could only save his life by leaving his followers, leaping out of the window in his shirt, and swimming on board his ship. It is probable that, during these campaigns, the idea of a settlement first occurred to MacGregor, as, not long after their conclusion, he proposed a plan of emigration about to be related; a plan by which colonization was to extend to that part of America known as the Mosquito country. The more pleasing title of Poyais was given; the Stock Exchange was employed to circulate some bonds for a loan of £200,000, at eighty per cent., on the security of the country; and a land renowned for its inhospitable climate was puffed into a most undeserving celebrity. Every device of human ingenuity was practised. Books were published in which the climate of paradise seemed uncongenial by that of Poyais. The air was soft and balmy; the sun and sky were alike fructifying; the soil yearned to yield its fruits; the water ran over sands of gold. Grain was to grow without sowing. Tortoise-shell, diamonds, and pearls were plentifully promised; and, to the least imaginative, the most glowing realms of the Pacific grew pale in comparison with a region where the sun was ever bright, and the soil ever yielding. Labor would be superseded, life commenced in hardship would end in luxury; while gorgeous pictures of “the finest climate and most fertile place in the world,” excited the undisciplined imagination of those who had the money necessary to convey them thither. A song, to be paid for by a company of Poyais lancers, was chanted in the streets; and the attention of the passing crowd was attracted by hired ballad-singers. The new home was to be graced with a knight of the Green Cross, a colonel to command, three legislative houses to guide its affairs, and a sovereign in the person of Gregor MacGregor, under the romantic title of Cacique of Poyais. An agent was employed to make sales of land, and, unhappily, the applicants were numerous.