Newspaper Page Text
Courier.
Fr oin Ue were Dreaming. I
tne W» and W **hich we consider one
The of all the poems
of the , ate unhappy war is for
eleoited V ‘ a correspondent at Lex
written by a young gen-
South, whose modesty alone
tie*-**, him from attaining a ua-
atul wh ° haß
r ' in a mngle in9tance - a^,eare ' ]
rf nri’nt # before:
inP . viiiona ! Oh, they Vere as grand
fn "ingle faith,
nat O ''- ute d»ger e dhivef™m Honor’s path,
S J 'threat. we were dreaming.
In th®
)Ur mC n, as pride of birth could
' mocking tfirSu weTe mute and still.
At: were dreaming.
i that covered more of glory
1 , • Tradition’i ancie.it «o»;
i- -V.Tb our drwm we wove the thread
• immortal dead,
1 (n“the land wh.re we were dreamtug.
1 WC had both bond and free,
" Till envy c .° ve^ll ,,?“ r ) ur”4or won.
And those fair•th *” e MtjJJ H lept. on
‘"ill u£Si'«»..« «,
K. t m-teor- f^£ i,et»een the Twins
i riuiHoii hi j then begins
ItVtrlieM wiien dinar’schaos reigns,
8 rn the land whole wo were dreammg.
„ , rnm i,pr sunlit heights smiled liberty
her cap In sign of vietory
’’ 1,,,: world approved, and everywhere
' t where growled tne Russian hear,
.■ f , the brave, the just, gave as their prayer
1:1 t |,,. i illic l where we were dreaming.
, , ncjf.j that aCovernwent was oars—
■!,:illi, ngeil [lace among ttie worid’s great
W.-miked of Ihmk, Commission,
, n ,il so life-liice grew our vialon,
t he who ilari .1 to doubt but met derision
In the land where we were dreaming.
~ rik( . ( i on liigh ; a banner there was seen,
field was blanched and spotless in Its
Chival' v’s cross its Union bears,
M i vet’rans, swearing by their scars.
VoU' ii they would bear it through a hundred
In the\and where we were dreaming.
\ hero <nme amongst, ns as we slept;
vuiiHt lie lowlv knelt—then rose and wept,
' Then gathering up a thousand spears
iI»• swept acfow* the field ot M.itm,
'l'hrn ijtnred (tumu li and walked beyond the st/its
In the land where we were dreaming.
u> looked again • another figure still
(iav, hope, and nerved each individual will—
Full of erandeur, clothed with power,
Heir-noised erect, lie ruled the hour
With stern, majestic sway-of strength a tower
in tlie laud where we were dreaming.
As while wreat Jove, in bronze, a warder find,
dazed eastward worn the Forum where lie stood,
Home felt herself secure and Iree,
So " Iliciimond's safe,” we said, white we
Beheld a bronzed hern—God-like I.ke,
In the land where we were dreaming.
As wakes the soldier when the alarum calls—
As wakes the mother when her int uit calls
As starts the traveller when around
Ills sleeping conch the fire-bells sound—
Ho woke our nation in a single bound.
In the land where we were dreaming.
Wo! wo is me! the startled mother cried—
While we have slept our noble sous have died !
Wo ! wo Is me ! how strange and sad
That all our glorious vision lied
And left us nothing real but the dead,
[n the land where we were dtearning.
Ami are they really dead, our martyred slain?,
\n! dreamers! morn shall hid them rise again
From every vale —from every height
On which they seemed to die for right—
Their gallant spirits shall renew the tight
In the land where we were dreaming.
♦ -» ♦
lola movti:/.
I|er ( lostnc tears and Her brave.
HV tiBACK 6! KEENWOOD,
The theatrical career of Lola Montezin
the Slates were not brilliant or prolonged.
Few wished to see her more than once.—
she llitted from city to city, doing some
wry generous things, let it be remembered
ifher—showing especial kindness toward
children who were in sorrow and need.
Then sighing, like him of Maeedon, for a
:iidv world to conquer, site flitted tot'ali
urnirt, wherft she saw life under a thou
sand new ;is|iects, each one wilder than
hist. Bho Hung herself, with reckless
union, with what seemed pure Irish
iltry, into that rough,adventurous life,
-übdued, unterrified, incorrigible, under
• • very hard experiences. Strange
nos her eccentricities, her crazy
iks, her desperate, daring ways, came
and made us laugh, yet shudder
ile we laughed. She tamed bears, rode
■miliar, gambled, shot and horsewhip
! iu-r enemies, llung about her money,
ami married right and left. She seemed
h ave a mania for marrying and being
livoreeil, for falling in love, and fighting
hrr way out— poor mad little sinner.
At length, broken in health, if not in
*l'irit, sii*■ returned to the Atlantic States
ami began anew career as a lecturess.
Her lectures were flimsy, patched-up
■ lairs, and of questionable moral tone.
T.'o y were probably not written altogether
Ty herself, yet 1 should say she could
Have produced something better, if less
ambitious, luvd sin* given naturally and
tttply recollections of the strange coun
h■ ' and people she had seen. Though
a well educated woman, her conversa
■ion was said to be singularly sparkling
uni racy. Yet the Hash and sweep of her
agnitioent eyes, and the bewitching
■•l of her lustrous, dark hair went far
'ith the general audience to make up for
• i* lack of wit and wisdom of tier words.
Though apparently the most respeeta
. this period was perhaps the most pi ta
le of her life. The tool of unprincipled
alcii, she h:ul entered on a work for which
die was i ven loss fitted than for the pro-
of the dancer, and in which she
depended more directly foif success on her
uiwviable repute. Though her dress was
niocb -t and her manner grave, her lectures
were more demoralizing than her dancing
had been. She usually read very nicely,
with no etVert at oratory or display ot teel
ing; hut "n die night when I heard her, a
' tinewhat, objectionable passage was dis
tinctly hissed hy a gentleman sitting iu
Hont of the platform. Instantly a gusli
cl passion swept over her lovely sane,
transforming it into something terrible.
>he paused, fixing her eyes ou the of
fender, and seemed like a tigress just
about to spring. She mastered tier anger,
h oever, and,went on reading, but with a
tierce glitter in her eyes to the etui.
After this, out of sight and out of mind
she passed wholly, till I heard of her sud
den illness—that cruel stroke that left her
helpless and so pitiable, blighted and aged j
vfore her time—a fate most terrible I
■a organization like hers, all nerves, and
bre, and action. Then followed the long '
lim twilight of that life of litful and lurid t
nUance, musty and chill, and ushering in'
might that seemed quite dreary audstar
■c But the poor soul thought she saw,
amidst the gloom, the steady shining of
•e star of Stars, gracious and pitiful—the
? Aval shone over the manger at Beth-
! eln p ame out above the Cross of
1 ; aml "" this star she fixed to the
-t those great dark eves, through which
id blazed every wild human passion and
! 1 u beguilement, but which had some
mes softened with human pity, over
wed with penitent tears. So who would
to them the right to look toward those
vine beckoning rays of peace aud pardon
■ag grace?
have heard from a lady who knew the I
id Samaritans who nursed pixir Lola
• ntez iu lier last sickness, that her
m.eful gentleness and humanity were
b’y pathetic. She crept to the foot of the
and crouched there weeping, till
••Th to hear the gracious words—
i ny sins are forgiven thee."
\Vhile'?irH mmer r s 1853 1 visited Munich.
i ing about that line capital
mioh. fi roinits aspect of newness, seems
;>re like an American than a European
>, the hcauUful residence allotted by
lu'e ivmg to Madame Lola Montez was
int*Mi out to us by our valet de place,
W as she very unpopular iu Munich
, > asked.
Yes, Madame, with our most respecta
■■ citizens, and latterly with the students;
! she was good to the poor; they missed
Ju the art gallery of the new palace,
g Ludwig, who wasagreat couuoiseur
! * auty, had set apart a hall for the por
hof living European beauties, and at
j-tad of ail these \je found a portrait
a Montez, decidedly the loveliest
* rc there. Even the reigning Queen,
mg and pretty woman, was given a
3r„ ‘‘buprable position in the gallery. We
Id that the King exacted of hissuc
'll H promise that this picture sliouhl
I D ,? M 1 1,1 lts place, at least while he lived.
»ie rose-embowered studio of Kaulbach
, lound another portrait of—as the
I Q **r named her—" the C'ountess nf
Au«Ju fe l? t ‘” • P , Was a fuU I( ' n gth, in an
iue bpanisli dress, a suherh and stately
-lure, after the style of V T audyke.
®wgia Journal trail ilkssaigcr.
Hose Ac Burr.
Oj l ® bright afternoon, iti the winter of
I was wanderingtbrough Greenwood
cemetery, and suddenly came upon an
humble grave,in a small three cornered lot
quite unadorned, and only marked bva
plum white stone, bearing simply this in
scription :
"Mita EIZV GILBERT,
Died February 17, 1861. Aged 42.”
It was the grave of Lola Monte/,. I could
hardly realize that after such a free, wild
swmg at life, from continent to continent,
sne had heeu limited to such a narrow do
main. How that little triangulai hedge
seemed to imprison that willful, untaina
c*'f,ature, that rebel against society,
that Zingaraof the world ! How heavily
the earth seemed to rest on that strange
wild heart, passionate as fire,inconstant as
water. How still she lay,who hud seemed
like some gleaming tropical bird, gay,
fierce and restless.
Kind people provided this place of re
pose for her poor, weary, faded body, but
it is hardly likely that they often visit the
spot. T here are no floral tokens of loving
remembrance. Doubtless many an un
marked grave in the Potter’s Field on the
hillside is more frequently visited. But as
I Stood over the mound, I felt womanly
pity and regret, and gladly would I have
iaiil thereon an offering of flowers to fade
oil the brown turf, as her beauty had failed
from the world; not sumptuous roses, typi
pical of her in bar lovely prime, > when the
great. German painted her—not lilies,
which might seem to reproach her mem
ory—but a bunch of purple heart’s-ease,
breathing reconciliation aud peace.
A CRKOLG’S CAKEEIi.
THE ADVENTUROUS DESCENT OKA PRET
TY CIGAR OIRJ, FROM A MONASTERY TO
a roou HOUSE.
From Nashville Banner.
There died in the Poor House of this
county, aud was buried last Saturday at
the expense of the public, a woman who
I was at one time the wife of the famous
I Ned. Butline, and at another the Mistress
, of Ben McCulloch, the Texan Ranger.
The date of her registry was “July the
20th.” The name entered was “Martha
Leguire.” But she went by various
psceudonymns, and was originally a Cu
ban, born at Havana and raised in New
Orleans; Her true name was Maria Cor
dova.
The story of her life, as given to us, is
rather romantic than commonly turns up
in the every-day experience of a local
reporter. Her father was a tobacconist,
and the first mention made of her was
when she was a girl fourteen or fifteen
years of age, when she was known in the
Cresent city as “the pretty cigar girl of
Canal street.” She attended at the patri
archal shop, both wrapped and sold the
choicest priucipes, anu added to her
charms and her reputation by an exceed
insr coy modesty that defied assault.
ButUne—before he came to Nashville
and was involved in the fearful tragedy
that is associated with liis name —liveilyi
thriftless, dare devil life in Texas, on the
prairies, upon the gulf-coast and about
New Orleans, He was a handsome young
fellow of obscure origin, ready talent neat
address and varied accomplishments.
His meeting with the prety cigar girl
was an accident, and his suit was long
i and difficult. At last he had to marry her,
and, three weeks after the marriage, the
couple suddenly disappeared.
There are various accounts of their ab
sence. It was said that the “Captain,”
as Ned was then called, (he is a General
now) commanded a brig in the Caribean
seas, and did business as an active and
fearless pirate. It was reported that be
had gone to Texas to see Judge Wajtrous,
and claim the fortune left by Lafitt. It.
was sworn to in court that Irj had retired
on the proceeds of a faro bank, in which
he was interested, and fitted him up a
ranche at Corpus Christi.
Most likely this latter is the correct
I version.
In 1847, when McCulloch appeared at
the head of the scouts or rangers, by which
Old Zack set suchetore, he had with him
an orderly, remarkable for his retiring,
reticent, modest disposition; his intelli
gence, and his handsome, girlish face. —
This orderly, it will be remembered, ac
companied him through the campaign,
tieing wounded in front of l’errote, and
left with the Monks of Santi Cruz at the
Old Convent, near Pareda’s hacienda. —
McCulloch was always careful of the se
cret, but somehow it leaked out. The or
derly was a person of the tender sex ; was,
in fact, the pretty cigar girl of Canal
street.
When the Ranger had found her, how
the Pirate had become separated from her,
are points on which we are unable to en
lighten the reader. McCulloch never saw
her again. He left her at Perrote, was
wounded himself at Cherubusco, conveyed
to Vera Cruz, and thence ordered to Wash
ington. Whether he ever made an effort
to regain his lost orderly, is unknown. —
She remained at the Monestery for nearly
ten years.
Not yet shorn of her beauty, she appear
ed in the city of Managua, Central Ameri
ca, at the time of the entrance of Gen.
lfenningsen,and there made the acquaint
ance of ugambling filibuster, well known
in New Orleans and Nashville, whom she
accompanied hack to the States. Her de
scent from a cathedral to a monte table,and
from a gaming hell to a common brothel,
and from infamy to pauperism, was very
gradual, but, also, very sure.
She found herself, during the winter of
1865, at the close of the war, in this city.—
She had been sent North from Atlanta,by
Sherman, when he depopulated that city,
first to Cincinnati and then to Louisville.
The last act of au eventful career, opened
in a little out-liouse of this city, west of
the capitol. For a few weeks s,he employ
ed herself as a sewing woman, but gave
way to drink, and, after the customary
seasons of arrest and punishment, relaps
ed into hopeless mendicancy, and finally
into the poor house
Hero she died, and hence she was car
ried to an unmarked grave. One who saw
her after the body was decently clad for
interment, represents that she presented a
most beautiful, but saddening spectacle. —
The traces of the original charm that had
singled her out of a city full of Creole girls,
still remained, though dim and marred by
the signs of want, and sorrow,and dissipa
tion that overspread them.
(AIKS. LINCOLN’S WARDROBE.
Iter Operations at a Pawnbroker’* in
Chlcuco.
[From the Chicago Times, Oct. 16th.]
The country has been talking about Mrs.
Lincoln’s wardrobe for two weeks, and
forming various opinions as to the good
taste or policy of advertising the same for
sale. Few persons are aware that she has,
for over a year, been in the habit of visit
ing a certain pawnbroker’s shop in this
city, where she has sold from time to time
various articles of wearing apparel aud
table furniture.
In a dingy little shop at No. 89 South
Wells street, where hanging dresses sug
gest capital punishment, and empty coat
sleeves beat the air to notify passers by
that clothes are for sale there, may be
found some of the clothing of Mrs. Lin
coln.
First and most prominent, is said to be
the dress she wore at Ford’s theater on the
night of Mr. Lincoln’s assassination. This
is a canary-colored brocade, low-necked
satin dress, trimmed at the bottom with a
broad baud of canary-colored plain satin.
Mrs. Lincoln stated, when she pawned
the dress, that it cost $22-5. She received
for it s:io. Besides this, there is a common
striped chene silk dress, of a gray lilac
] color, which was pawned at the same time,
j and a small canary-colored plume filled
i w ith a cluster of goldeu grapes, which she
wore in her hair on the night of the assas
sination.
I hese are all that now remain. A large
I stock of goods, comprising cradle quilts,
cluiut sets, dresses and other goods, for
paid Mrs. Lincoln the sum of $1,300 have
been sold.
1 he dress worn by Mrs. Lincoln at the
nrst inauguration of her husband—a white
silk v, as sold to a stage actress. A brown
satin dress, with a golden crown, made,
as Mrs. Lincoln informed the dealer ex
pressly for a tour to Europe, was pawned
some lime last winter, and sold by the
broker for the sum of S7O. A lavender silk
dress, with brocade tiowers, also pawned
at. this shop, is now at the dyer’s for the
restoration of its color, damaged while on
I exhibition at tbe shop. Several other
dresses were mentioned by the Mwn
broK.r, Mr. Doyle, a. hSinKSo sKv
nun, the description of which he could not
give.
Mrs. Lincoln also, about a year ago,
pawned at this shop a set of china, which
Hue had brought from Washington. A few
pieces were broken, but the remaining ar
ticles wereof the finest porcelian.aiul were
soid to grace a wedding party.
Mrs. Lincoln, in making this disposal of
a considerable portion of her wardrobe de
sired, and for a time succeeded, in trans
acting the business connected with the
sue in. coy., so far as the dealer was con
cerned. rshe always made the bargains
herself, aud representing that she was a
lady stopping at the Clifton House, who,
from some circumstances unexplained,had
a large quantity of clothing that she should
never use. At one time she stated that
she had intended to go to Europe, hut that
some unfortunate occurrences had pre
vented the ;our. ,
On her first visit, in connection with
some articles of clothing, she brought a
pairoi old and faded cradle quills, which,
the pawnbroker says, he bought, not be
cause of their value, hut to encourage the
lady to deal with him more largely.
Ou oue of these visits the colored driver
of Mrs. Lincoln's carriage mentioned to
the broker incidentally, that Mrs. Lin
coln desired to see him. This was ijie first
iti tuition Mr. Doyle had of the position
and of his customer. The negro
driver called at the shop a few days after
wards and informed the proprietor that his
mistress had discharged him for the uu
fotunate and unpremeditated statement.
Mrs. Lincoln used to tell this man to
whom she sold her clothes that he was the
only one in the city with whom she could
deal. None of the others would pay her
vylial she thought she should have for
tticm. On one occasion, calling at the
store, and finding the proprietor not at
borne,she inquired where he was, and sent
her carriage after him across the bridge,
into the North division.
In February last she brought some
dresses to pawn, and, not agreeing upon
the sum she should get for them, she drove
oil, saying she should never come again.—
She kept her word aud the pawnbroker
hoard no Imore of her until the late an
nouncement in u New York paper of her
more extended and more brilliant finan
cial operations in the same line.
Matrimony, Elopement, Divorce and Ile-
Itlnrriage.
(Some time in the year 1804 a very beau
tiful girl, with “liquid eyes and golden
curls,” belonging to Boston, thesole daugh
ter of her wealthy father’s home and heart,
became deeply smitten with a rather soft
young man. The soft young man was
very wealthy. He had dark, curling hair,
long eyelashes, a perfect love of a mous
tache, was a captain in the “Home Guard,”
aud, take him oil and oil, we see his like
every day.
The young lady ought to have been sen
sible. She was accomplished, well educa
ted, and had made the “grand tour,” but
the superior attractions of the lady-killer
were too much for her, and she became the
legal owner of the aforesaid curling hair
and long eyelashes. They were married
amid a general joy of friends, and much
“moon on the lake,” silk and point lace.
The lovely bride was all veil, orange
wreath—and tears. The fiiends congratu
lated the young couple, and pater familia#
gave his blessing and a “hundred thou
sand for pin money to the new made wife.
They started ou the tour—after having the
custonmiy old shoe lluug after the bridal
carriage.
The tour lasted six weeks, which time
was sufficient to show the young lady that
she bad made a sad mistake in the selec
tion of her partner for life. She was natur
ally intellectual aud inclined toward sound
sense, aud she easily saw that her girlish
idol did not possess one thought above the
parting of his black hair, or the glueing of
his moustache ala Napoleon.
She became disgusted with him, and
the resuit was that they continued to live
together, but theirs was not a perpetual
honeymoon. Matters stood thus until
about a year ago, when a dearly loved
cousin of the lady's died. Dispatches were
sent all over the country to summon the
friends, and among the first to answer the
call was the young Boston lady aud her
mother.
The dead cousin had been married to a
young physician of New York, and, so far
as known, was the light of her husband’s
eyes. The doctor’s grief at the funeral
w as so great as to call sympathetic tears from
all, hut from none more than from the
cousin-in-law—who, by virtue of the rela
tionship, took upon herself tlie task of
soothing his grief.
Her efforts were so successful that, dur
ing the visit of a month which followed
the wife’s death, the doctor was taught to
loots with milder eyes upon the green plot
in God’s acre - The Boston lady returned
home with her mother, but kept up a cor
respondence with the “cousin.” Whether
it was that sympathy Avhicli is akin to
love, we cannot say, but the result was,
that the son of Boston, with the curly hair,
“arose and donned his clothes” to find that
(he wife of his bosom had flown to Europe
(probably toseetheexpositiou) in company
with her cousin, the pill-peddler.
Words cannot describe the grief of the
deserted husband. He wept aud refused
consolation, he tore his curliug locks and
neglected to part his back seam or gum
his moustache. His friends had to cling
to his coat tails in order to prevent him
from rushing to Europe after the shame
less pair.
AGastthe’gricf-stricken husband received
a letter from his ex-sposa, in which she
told him she had left him forever; that she
had never cared two cents worth for him,
but that she had loved the vender of pills,
and was bound to stick to him like a poor
man’s plaster! This was too much. The
grief-stricken young man came to New
York aud secured the services of eminent
counsel to see what could be done. The
poor fellow pleaded with the lawyer that he
should do all in his power to get back his
“darling Carrie.” That he would forgive
all, if she would only come back to her
soirowful husband. A sorry picture he
looked, the tears running dotvn and drop
ping off the end of his nose on his clean
shirt bosom!
The writer had a perfect diagram of the
whole thing from the legal gentleman em
ployed iu the case,and,no mattter how per
fectly absurd the finale of the matter may
appear, it is truth from beginning to end.
The lawyer discountenanced the reciving
back of the truant wife—even if she were
willing to return, which she was not —and
suggested that the husband apply for a di
vorce, as neither ever could hope to live
happy together aguin. The husband prom
ised to do all the lawyer advised after one
parting interview with her. That matter
was easily enough arranged, as the happy
couple had returned from the exposition
and were living "up town” iu great style
and evident contentment, the lawyer, in
company with his client, called upon Mrs.
Pr. ,”aud were kindly received. The
subject of her return was broached, and
the husband went so far as to propose to
give the doctor $50,000 if he would give up
“his” wife. The doctor evidently set a
higher value upon the lady than did her
husband,sfor he refused to give her up at
any price and under any circumstances,nn
less at her express wish and desire.
This clinched matters, and so the asrain
grief-stricken husband followed thelawyer
out of the house and followed his advice,
for lie applied for a divorce and got it.
As soon as the decision of the court was
made known. I>r. and the ex-wife too
a trip out of New York State and werek
joined together in the state matrimonial.—
The un kindest cut of all was that they sent
their wedding cards to the ex-husband, who
sought sympathy again of the lawyer, and
exliibitted the elegant little paste-board
vipers, with more shedding of tears. The
lawyer, in order to console him, said;
"Nevermind; you will find someone to
love quite as well as Mrs. Dr., only I would
find someone as soon as possible if I were
you.” The young man thought the ad
vice good, for life confessed that there was
someone —a "perfect stunner”—who lived
in Jersey, whom he thought would make
him happy! (Oh, man! man!) He part
ed with the lawyer iu good spirits (after
burning the wedding cards) and promised
to call again when he visited the city.
This occurred three weeks ago, and da\
before yesterday the young man called at a
house where the writer was visiting with
a pretty milk and strawberry complexion
ed little lady hanging upon liis arm,
whom lie introduced as "my wife.” The
story is all told. He married the "stuu-
iVlaeon, Ga., Wednesday, October 30, 1867.
ner from Jersey nearly a week ago, and
they are on their bridal tour.
1 he sum and substance of the matter is,
that he married a girl just about as flat
i mffi soft as himself, and he will he happy.
R. J. MOSES TO THE COLORED PEOPLE OF
GEORGIA.—No. 5.
In my last letter I said to you that the
ballot was not worth anything to a man
who did not know how to use it. The
only advantage of voting is to turn out tlie
men who make had laws and put in men
who _w ill make good ones. To do this yon
require two things—first, good candidates'
second, knowledge of what makes a good
candidate, so as to enable you to choose
the one that is good aud reject the bad.—
Now, no man can he a good candidate to
represent jour interest unless the laAV he
makes may operate on his interest as w<-ll
as yours—that is, his business must be
identified with the State. He must, like
you, have a fixed residence in Georgia.—
Again, he must have a good knowledge of
how a law will work after it is made, and
to do this he must understand the whole
system of laws already made : otherwise
this law may not chime in with the other
laws, and everything would be thrown in
confusion—just like anew overseer taking
charge of a plantation. He must not only
know what a good plantation ought to
have, to work it, but he must ksow what
it has on hand ; otherwise he would be apt
to buy too little of oue thing aud too much
another. Besides knowledge, your can
didate must have honesty; otherwise, in
stead of serving your interest, he would
, serve his own. Now, then, look around
lyou and see where your candidates are to
:come from. Surely not from the white
I Radicals who are preaching to you. They
[have none of the qualities you want in
I your law-maker. If you turn from them
|to your own color, and find men who are
jrespectable aud honest, where will you
jfind them now that have the necessary
j knowledge. [\\ hat does Oliver Saunders
land Van Jones know about law-making ?]
dt is not enough for|a man to know how to
| read and write ; he must, as I have said
before, understand the whole system of
laws in order to know how new ones will
work. But suppose there are to be found
good candidates, both white aud black.—
Now, you may not know it, but it is true
in all elections, that some candidates are
better than others, or else there would be
no U9e to have an election. The whole ob
ject of an election is to choose tlie best
meu. How is the great mass of the black
people to choose, among several candi
dates, the ones who will make the best
laws ? To do this requires political knowl
edge. Without political knowledge, you
are sure to be imposed ou. The worst men,
the biggest rascals, are they svho will
make the fairest promises. It is so easy to
promise when you don’t expect to perform;
it’s like giving big wages Christmas;
Christmas comes, but the wages don’t
come with the holidays. These men will
promise you anything for your votes, be
cause they never expect to pay, and the
promise js just a few idle words. If you
will think over what I have written you
will find it all true; arid being true; if you
are not blinded by a foolish wish to med
i die in things about which you know noth
ing, you will find that the best thing you
cau do will be to let politics alone and de
vote your whole time to the improvement
of your fortunes and the education neces
sary to enable you to discharge the duties
of a good citize*.
The whole object of the Radicals in urg
ing you to vote is, that you may get con
trol of the State Government and keep
them in power for their advantage.
This you can never do. The white men
of the South would not stand it long.—
Your control of the government, under
the lead of bad men, such as now control
you, must sooner or later lead to a war of
raws; and whenever that happens your
race will be exterminated from the face of
the earth. The whole power ot the United
States Government will be turned against
you whenever you attempt permanently
to govern the Southern States. In such
a contest, even the Republican party will
be against you. They have so declared in
lowa, Ohio, Pennsylvania, California and
Connecticut, where they had all pow
er until the Radicals attempted to give to
the negroes tbe right to vote. In the hour
of your trial and trouble these very Radi
cal candidates who ask your votes will flee
from the wrath to come and turn against
you. With these prospects of trouble in
tlie future, why should you attempt to
govern the white men of Georgia? What
good do you expect to grow out of such a
course? If you get control of the govern
ment under the present Reconstruction
bill, tbe laws you pass will all be set aside
by the courts as soon as they can be brought
before them for judgment. Your right to
vote and hold office will be declared against
the law and of no effect. You will then
have to give up all such crazy notions un
til the white men of Georgia, who are the
only legal voters in Georgia, shall deter
mine to give you the right to vote and hold
otlice, and that will not happen until you
prove by your conduct and your mental
improvement that, like the white man,
you can vote and know what you are vot
ing about, and, when you seek an office,
that you have gained sufficient knowledge
to discharge the duties of au officer.
You never will have these political pow
ers given to you until you prove that you j
are fit to be trusted with them ; and you j
ought not to wish to exercise them sooner, j
You do not help yourselves by mixing in
[politics, but, on the contrary, you in-}
crease the prejudice existing against you, I
and throw your race hack years upon years I
'in that advancement which will come in
[its own good time, if you will wait for the
[tree to mature its fruit in its natural sea-
Isons.
If was but as yesterday that you were
Slaves ; a prejudice had grown up against
your race, that the wisest of you must
have expected it would take generations
to wipe out; but, aside from this prejudice,
you were known to be ignorant and en
tirely unfit to govern yourselves; the
whole power of the State Government was
in the hands of the very white men who, |
the Radicals teach you, are your enemies; j
it was left to them to frame the laws for
your government. There were neither lie- ■
groes nor Radicals in the Legislature ; the I
white men of Georgia, who passed the law ;
by which you were made free, are the men
who made the laws under which you now
live; and I propose to show you tiiat these
laws are as fair to your peopleas they could
have been if you had been in the Legisla- |
ture, and gifted with sense enough (which j
you are not) to make laws. If the laws |
which govern j our people had been made by '
black men, they could not have been better
suited to your condition.
What more could the white men ofGeor- j
gia do, than to give you the same laws to ■
govern you, as those by which they them- ;
selves were governed? At the first session
of the Legislature a Commission was ap
pointed, composed of the first men in the
State, to frame a set of law's to govern the
freedmen. They met together, and spent
a great deal of time and thought upon it—
and prepared, for the consideration of the
Legislature, a book full of laws, by which
freedmen were to be governed. This book
was submitted to the joint JudiciarvCom
mittee of both houses of the Legislature ;
they spent two weeks in talking over its
different provisions ; it suited each mem
ber in its general provisions, but each one
had some particular objection to it—and
we could not come to an agreement, i
then, as Chairman of the House Commit
tee, proposed to cut the matter shoit ny
putting the Freedmen’s Code aside, and
giving you precisely the same laws for the
protection of your life and property, that
the white men of Georgia had for the p
tection of their life and property, lhe
Committee adopted my proposal, and re
ported the law, which was afterwards
passed by the Legislature and signed by
the Governor, and which is now the law
of the land—under which law you now
live, and which is the following words:
"That persons of color shall have tlie
right to make and enforce contracts, to
sue, be sued, to be parties, give evidence,
to inherit, ,to purchase, lease, sell, hold
and convey real and personal property,
and to have full and equal benefit of all
laws and proceedings for the security of
person and estate, and shall not be sub
jected to any other or different punish
ment, pain or penalty, for the commission
of any act or offence other than such as are
prescribed for white persons committing
like acts or offences.
"Approved 17th March, 1866.
This law, which places you precisely on
the footing of a white mail, was made to
encourage ß you to he ludustrious, make
yourselves good citizens,and prepare your
selves for the exercise of political rights;
and the same sense of justice that induced
the white people to give to the colored
people the right ta acquire aud hold pro
perty, to give evidence in Court, and the
1 several other matters mentioned in that
act, would have guaranted to you the right
to vote and hold office, if ever you had
proven yourselves competent to do so.
In tlie lax laws —if you have property,
it is taxed like a white mail’s. If you
have no property, you pay poll tax, like
the white man who has no property.
Another law was passed in relation to
marriages, rendered necessary by the
peculiar condition in which you had been
in the habit of living. That law is in
these words:
“That persons of color now living togeth
er as husband and wife, are hereby declar
ed to sustain that legal relation to each
other, unless a man shall have two or
more reputed wives, or a woman two or
more reputed husbands. In that event,
the man, immediately after the passage of
this act by the General Assembly, shall
select one of his reputed wives with her
consent, or the woman one of her reputed
husbands with his consent, and the cere
mony of marriage between these two shall
be performed.
“If such man thus living with more thau
one woman, or such woman living with
more than one man, shall fail or retuse to
comply Avith the provisions of this section,
he or she shall be prosecuted for the of
fence of fornication, or fornication and
adultery, and punished accordingly.
“Approved 9th March, 1866.”
This law does not entirely remedy tlie
evil, hut it is the best that could be done
under the circumstances.
There is one other law declaring the re
lation of parent and child, making all
colored children, born before the passage
of tlie Act 9th March, 1862, the legitimate
child of the mother. The passage of these
acts were necessary in order to give your
children the power to inherit property,
and to determine how they should be con
trolled, and who should have the benefit
of their labor until they become of age.—
With these exceptions, if you want to
find the law that governs the black man,
you have only to look for the law that
governs the white man and you will find it,
for they are the same.
You certainly cannot better these laws.
What else can you do? The Radicals
say you.shall tax lands so high that the
present owners will have to sell it. If you
hud that power what good would it do you f
You are mostly laborers. You live by
working for the man who owns the lands.
If you put taxes on his lands it becomes a
piart of the expenses of making his crop>,
and he turns round and deducts it from
your wages. Just like the cotton tax, and
all other taxes put upon agriculture, the
largest part of it comes out of the wages
of labor, so that at last you tax yourselves.
You, may, however, make tlie taxes so
high that the owner of the land cannot
afford to pay the tax and pay the laborer
enough,for bim to live upon. Then will
come the time when the lands producing
nothing will have to be sold to pay the
tax ! But who is to buy them ? Not the
laborer. He having no employment will
have no money. He then can’t buy, but
the Radical Yankees will have money.
They will buy the land cheap ! and then
you will have to go to them to hire or
starve; and when once the Yankees buy
the land under tax sales, you will find out
two things: Ist. What hard work really
is; and 2d, how little you can live on
without starving, and how little you can
wear in winter without freezing, for they
have already boasted in Congress that
they can make the freedman raise cotton
so as to sell it at 4c. per pound. Now
when cotton sells at 4c., a negro will be
lucky if he gets forty dollars a year and
finds himself. If you run after these Rad
icals our lands may go to tlie Yankees un
der tax sales, but as sqrely as the Yankees
buy the land, so surely will the colored
race starve to death, ami the land wilt lay
Mile until it is itivioed off into small farms
and sold to Yankee and foreign emigrants,
who will come here with money aud
pay them a profit on their purchases at
tax sales.
This is one of the ways that the Radical
party expects to make money out of the
negro vote ; and if you could see into the
hearts of these Radicals who claim to
love you so much, you would find that all
their professions have but one purpose,
and that is to use you for their own ad
vantages.
Despernle Fight with a Grizzly Bear.
A correspondent of the Helena (Monta
na) Gazette, writing from Camp Green Clay
Smith, near the Yellowstone, gives the
following thrilling account of a bear fight:
Orderly Sergeant S. R. Shroke, of com
pany E, Captain Campbell, formerly of
Monroe, Wisconsin, having been in Mon
tana something less than a j’ear, thought
he must needs signalize his mountain life
by dispatching, single-handed, a huge
grizzly. Accordingly, on the sth instant,
when out hunting—being about fifty miles
from this camp, on the eastern branch of
the Powder—the opportunity was em
braced to do so. Leisurely proceeding on
his way, his tranquility of mind was sud
denly disturbed bj’ looking up and seeing
a bear just ahead of him. Their eyes met
simultaneously,bruin’s vengefully glaring.
The sergeant halted, and, cocking his
piece, the bear came right on, as if, under
standing the manoeuvre, lie would show
how contemptuously lie regarded it. But
thesergeantequallydetian t —and prudence,
perhaps, lost sight of in that novel ambi
tion which a majority of those recently
from the east have to kill a grizzly while
in the mountains —leveled his rille and
fired, just as his savage foe reared ou His
hind legs to close with him. His bullet
struck close to, if it did not penetrate, tbe
heart. The bear fell. Regaining his feet,
with a fierce, terrible growl, he wheeled
aud endeavored to escape. Calling to his
companion, who was probably one hun
dred and fifty yards in the rear, to come
quickly to him, upon His arrival they
pursued the animal together. When
within twenty yards, the sergeant having
reloaded,Jagain fired, and thinks he shot
the bear well up on the shoulder, and about
midway of the body ; his companion im
mediately succeeded with his bullet,
planting a good ounce of lead in one of the
huge beast’s shoulders.
Bruin now turned upon and pursued hi3
foes. 'They stood their ground, and when
Sergeant Shroke had reloaded, the bear
was within ten feet of him, coming with
unabated speed. He leveled when he al
most imagined he could feel the monster’s
hot breath in his face. The trigger is pull
ed—the percussion proves faulty; with
the undischarged gun in his hand, a pow
erful blow of the iufuriated grizzlj' carries
away the greater part of his scalp. Before
reaching the ground the bear has caught
iu his mouth his left hand, and the jaws
of his teeth met among its chords and sin
ews. The sergeant sinks to the ground
beneath the shaggy giant, whose hold on
his hand is still unrelaxed when his com
panion reaches the spot aud sends a bullet
into the beast)s head. .Stunned, but still
having murderous vitality, the bear rolls
over on his back, and his red tongue again
protrudes from his mouth to once more
close on the sergeant. Quick as thought
the sergeant thrust his right hand down
the animal’s throat and fiercelj' grasped
his tongue. His companion has reloaded
his piec§, and puts a third bullet in the
bear’s head. Again the bear withdrew his
ivories, and catching in his mouth the ser
geant’s gun, commenced vigorously chew
ing offthestoek. Now, regaining his feet,
the sergeant discharged two bullets lioni
his revolver. These ended the contest
with the death of the bear. The sergeant
returued to camp in indescribable agonj - ,
and, though still suffering with great pain,
he is in a fair way of speedy recovery; but
he will carry to his last moment- the scars
of this desperate adventure. He says he
“ has killed the bar, and don’t want noth
in’ more to do with the critters.”
“British Despotism.”— The British
Government keeps 12,000 military police
iu Ireland to extort unjust taxation and
sustain a tyrauical Government.— Radical
Paper.
That’s nothing! This free Government
keeps 50,000 military police in the South
to extort taxation from the people, and to
guard the ballot-liox for negroes and
against the votes of white men.— Genius
of LVjerty (Pa.)
The above shows how the Pennsylvania
Democrats carried the election.
JEALOUSY.
I love tov love so well, I would
There were no eyes hut mine that could
Bee mv sweet piece of womanhood,
And marvel of delight.
I dread that even the snu should rise,
That hold, brieht rover of the skies.
Who dares to touch her closed eyes,
And put her dreams to flight.
I No maid could he more kind to me,
No truer maiden lives 1 Iran ‘die.
Blit yet I die of jealousy,
A thousand deaths in oue.
T cannot hear to see her stop.
With her soft hand a flower to crop,
I envy even the clover top
ifer dear foot treads upon.
How cruel in my sight, to bless,
Even her hlrd with the caress
Os Queers that t dare uot press,
Those lady fingers, white,
That nestle oft in that dear place,
Between her pillow and her face.
And, never asking leave or grace,
Caress her check at night.
’Tis toiture more than I can hear
To see the wanton summer air
Lift the bright tresses of her hair.
And careless let them fall.
The wlnf that through the roses slips.
And every ..parkllug dew drop sips.
Without rehnke muv kiss her lips,
The sweetest rose of all.
T envy, on her neck of snow,
Tlie white pearls hanging in a row,
Tlie opals on her heart, that glow,
Hashed with a tender red.
I would not in her chamber fair.
The curious stars should see her, where
I, even In thought, may scarcely dare
For reverence to tread.
O, maiden, hear and answer me
In kindness or in cruelty;
Bid me live, or let me die,
I cry, and cry again!
Give me to touch one golden tress.
Give me thy white hand to caress,
Give me thy red, red lip to press.
And ease my jealous pain.
Jones va Harper.
There were five of us—yes, five as happy
fellows as ever were let loose from a col
lege. It was “vacation,” and we conclud
ed to take a trip to tbe Falls. We got
aboard the cars at N , and were soon
traveling very rapidly toward our desti
nation. \Ve had just seated ouselves and
prepared for a comfortable smoke, when
in came the conductor, and who should it
be but our old friend, Fred B. After the
common salutations had passed, Fred said
lie had some business for us to attend to.
“Out with it, old chum,” said we. “Any
thing at all will be acceptable; so let us
have it.”
“Well, boys” said he, “in the next
there is as loving a pair as it was ever my
lot to see. They are going down to H.,
to get married; and now if you can have
any fun over it, just pitch in.”
In a moment he was gone, and we set
our heads together to form a plan.
“I have it, boys,” said Bill Bteevers. —
“We must make the girl think that her
lover is married.”
“That’s it, Bill; that’s it,” said we, not
giving him time to finish the sentence.
“That he is a married man, and the
father of children,” said Bill.
It devolved upon me to commence op
erations. Accordingly I entered the car
in which I was informed the lovers were.
The girl, thinking, I suppose that she
must give her lover all the seat, had taken
a seatou his knee, and he. for the purpose
of protecting her, had thrown his arm
around her waist; and so they sat in real
soft lovers’ style. All this I gathered at a
glance. Stepping up to them, I said :
“Why, Jones, what in the deuce are you
doing with this girl?”
The girl rose hastily aud seated herself
on the seat.
“See here, stranger,” said tlie fellow,
“you are a mite mistaken ; my Jiame ain’t
Jones.”
“Why, Jones,” said I, “you certainly
have not left your wife and children, and
cried to p»lin yourself olTfor a single man,
have you ?”
“I tell you my name ain’t Jones; it’s
Harper. It never was Jones —and ’tain’t
going to be, uutlier.”
I merely shook my head and passed on
to another seat to see the rest of the fun.
About the time the couple got feeling all
right again in came Elliott Gregg. Walk
ing up to Harper, he accosted him with—
“ Why Jones, you here? How did you
leave your wife aud babies?”
“ Now, see here, stranger, you ain’t the
fust man that’s called me Jones to-day, an’
I reckon I must look awfully like him;
but I ain’t Jones: an’ tnore’u that you
musu’t call me Jones, i liain’t got a wife
nor babies either; but this ’ere gal an’
me is going to splice, and then you can
talk about my wife,andjl wouldn’t wonder
but what, in course of time,you might talk
about babies too; but you musn’t call me
Jones!”
This retort brought forth vociferous
laughter from the spectators, and it also
brought blushes to the face of the girl that
“was goiu’” to be spliced.”
1 “Ah ! Jones,” said Gregg, “ you'll re
gret this in the future. I pity your wife
and this poor girl.”
“So., Mr. Harper, your real name is
Jones,isit? and you’ve been fooling me,
have you ? Well, weain’t spliced yet, and
I don't think we shall be very soon,” said
the girl, and her eyes flashed fire.
“Jane! Jane!” said 'Harper, “don’t
1 you know I’m Bill Harper? Thar ain’t a
darned drop of Jones’ blood in me, an’ I’ll
prove it.”
At this moment Jets Jackson, Bill Stee
vers and Jim Byers entered, and of course
their attention was called to Harper by his
loud talking. They stepped up to him,and
said :
“ Why Jones, what is all this fuss
about ?”
This was more than Harper could stand.
He leaped upon a seat.
“ Now,” said he, “my name is not
Jone3, an’ I can lick the fellow that says
it is.”
By this time we had got to H., and our
friend Fred came into the car and got Har
per to keep quiet. The girl that wouldn’t
be “ spliced” requested Fred to help her
on the train that was going back to S.,
which he did, and the notorious Jones,
alias Harper, followed her. We learned
afterwards that he proved himself to be
Bill Harper, instead of Bill Jones, and he
and his gal Jane got *‘ spliced.”
Singular and Fatal Accident.
From the Madison (Wis.) Journal, October 10.
Our community was greatly shocked
and pained this morning by the sudden
death of Lieutenant Karl liuf, a young
law stydent in the office of Messrs. H. W.
& D. K. Tenney, by a singular accident,
the particulars of which are as follows :
Affected by the prevalent base-ball fever,
the boarders of Mrs. Devaucene’s board- |
ing-liouse, at the corner of Hamilton and
Ciymer streets, and those of Mr. Hawes,
near by, on Fairchild street, recently chal
lenged each other to a muffin game of
base-ball, the challenges having been
made out with great formality, and the
match was to have come offthisafternoon.
The Devaucene boarders were practicing
to-day before breakfast on a vacant lot
adjoining their residence, when young
Bus, who roomed in Mr. Tenney’s office,
came down and joined them. On being
summoned to breakfast, Ruf attempted to
vault over a somewhat ricketty partition
fence between Mrs. Devauceue’s and the
vacant lot, when it gave way ; lie lost his
hoid and fell on it, one of the pickets
stricking him in the neck with such force
as to break olf the picket. He walked
into the house, unable to speak, but point
ing to histhroat. Dr. Baiiy, who was close
at hand, was called in, and in a few mo
ments Drs. Ward, Bowen, Brown, and
Fisher were present, but found themselves
unable to render any effectual aid, and
the young man, who had been laid on the
jiorch, died in about twenty minutes with
out having spoken a word. Dr. Wade
made an incision in his throat before his
death, which let out some blood, and on
examination it was found that the thyroid
cartilage, commonly called “ Adam s ap
ple,” and the thyroid bone had been
crushed in, and intoral hemorrhage hav
ing taken place, blood and mucuous mat
ter filled up the windpipe and caused suf
focation.
A retired English sea captain, who had
made the tour of Continental Europe and
the Holy Land, was asked how he was
impresses] by his visit to Jerusalem.
“Jerusalem,” said he, “is the meanest
place I visited. There is not a drop of
' liquor in the whole town fit to drink !”
Vol. IsX.. I>o. 34
SI SPHSMOX OK Tin; KMtKMIIF.Vr.
A I.radios ICc pu It I lean Ore. VII on ihe
(plflliOi:.
From the N. Y. Evening Ymi, Oct. 16.
This question is gratuitous, or has prac
tically little importance, because it is not
likely that the contingency supposed will
ever occur; we doubt, indeed, whether tin*
President will be so much as impeached ;
and we are certain that, if ho should be.
Congress will engage in no such debatable
enterprise as that of suspending him in
the interval, in its theoretical hearings,
however, the question raised is not un
worthy of attention.
It is an established maxim of law, found
ed upon the wisdom and experience of
ages, that every man is to lie presumed
innocent until lie has been proven guilty.
Our whole Anglo-Saxon jurisprudence is
pervaded by the spirit of that maxim. Its
very superiority to the civil jurisprudence,
as a bulwark and defense of individual
freedom, and as a means of eliciting jus
tice. consists in this magnanimous and
tender regard for the rights of the least as
well as of the greatest of its subjects. The
meanest malefactor, t hough he were caught
in the very act of robbing his neighbor's
henroost, would yet, in the oyes of the
law, be deemed a spotless citizen till bis
offense should be fixed upon him by reg
ular process of law. Now, are not pub
lic officers entitled to the benefit of the
same liberal and prudent construction?—
Are they to be condemned first and tried
afterwards? Or, is the mere accusation of
a crime to be taken as conviction, and the
criminal be forced to purge his name at his
own cost and hazzard, to escape punish
ment? We are loth to believe that any
Congress of the United States would enact
such a reversal of one of the must venera
ble and accredited muniments of justice.
But the objections to this proceeding are
not confined to so general and philosophic
a consideration. It would be a palpable,
even flagrant, violation of tHe letter of the
law, as well as of the spirit. The constitu
tion—we trust the writer in Harper will
pardon us for referring to an instrument
“so precious to the apologists of
as he avers—provides that-the President,
the Vice President, and all civil officers of
tlieUnited States, shall he removed from
office, on impeachment for, and conviction
of, treason, bribery, orotherhigh crimes
and misdemeanors.” That is, in the event
of any civil officer being regularly impeach
ed, regularly tried, and regularly convict
ed, the penalty shall be his loss of his
place. No other penalty is within the
competence of the court of impeachment.
Other courts, the ordinary courts of law,
may, on indictment and judgement, in
llict other legal punishments; hut judg
ment, in cases of impeachment, is confined
to removal from ofiice, and disqualifica
tion. Yet, this scheme for suspending
the President proposes nothing less than
to inflict upon him, from the outset —that
is, before trial and conviction -the very
penalty that is provided for him after trial
and conviction. It used to be said of
General Jackson, that he hung Arhuthnot
and Ambrister first and tried them after
wards ; and that is precisely what is urged
in reference to President Johnson. He is
to be tried, in order to find out whether
lie has done anything that merits re
moval. In other words, it is to be as
sumed that he is guilty; he is to be pun
ished as if he were guilty, and then it is
to be investigated whether he is guilty or
not. Surely no American Congress will
he found to stultify itself in so obvious a
manner and to such a degree. On the
contrary, let us hope, that considering our
financial and revenue systems, it \v\ll dis
cover something more important to pur
sue than this peurile game.
But it will be said that the President is
not to be “removed from office,” only
“suspended from office,” which is in effect
a mere play upon words, since the thing
meant is the same; but granting that there
is a real difference, we encounter another
difficulty. Who is to carry on the Execu
tive Department dirdng the time of this
suspension? You will answer, perhaps,
the President of the Senate; but clearly
not; for the constitution says that only in
ca se of “the removal of the President from
office, or of his death, r*slgation, or in
ability to discharge the powers and duties
of said office, the same shall devolve on
the Vice President,” etc. But Mr. John
son is not removed, as you allege; he is not
dead, he does not resign, lie is not unable
to discharge his duties in anyway; he is
only suspended ; and “suspension” is not
a conditibn that comes within the clause
of the law. There must be, therefore, an
interregnum; the Executive Department
must be vacated ; and all the while that
Mr. Johnson’s trial is going on, which
might be for one or two years, the execu
tion of the laws of the United States must
lie in abeyance. Would not that tie pay
ing rather dear for the whistle? Would it
not make Mr. Johnson more friends than
he has yet had, and so defeat the purpose
of the attempt? Clan we allow the ener
gies of the government to hybernate or go
into winter quarters during all that time?
Assuming Mr. Johnson’s administra
tion to be as bad you like, it is yet not so
bad as no administration at all. Better
let him remain where he is, as the consti
tution requires, than enter upon an expe
riment so unwarranted and hazardous as
this which is recommended to us for no
reason in the world that we can see—that,
is, for none of a public nature, or outside
of the exacerbations of party.
New Vorh Correspondence of Charleston
Courier.
IMPORTANT CONFERENCE OF IJEADTNO 11KPUHU
CANS—'WHAT WAS BAIIJ AND DONE— HOW GRANT
IS TO RE FLOORED, AND HOW CHASE IS TO HE
ELECTED —OREL LEY'S ADVICE TO HIS FRIENDS—
THE ELECTION TO RETHROWN INTOTHE HOUSE—
THE FIGURES AS MADE UP lIY GKEELKY—RU
MORED SALK OF THE HERALD.
New York, October 18.
I have recently been placed in possession
of some facts of an informal meeting of
Republican leaders held in this city since
the result of the October elections lias
been known. It was called by the pro
prietors of the Tribune, and by their im
mediate political friends, with the object
to determine upon the course to be pursued
by the paper and its friends during the
coruiDg canvass. Among those present
were HoraeeOreeley, John Russell Young,
Theodore Tilton, of the Indijiendent, who
is also a stockholder of the Tribune , Chas.
A. Wilbour, translator of Renau’s Life of
Jesus, and one of the- proprietors of the
Transcript, Sidney Howard flay, and a
number of local politicians, whose judg
ment was considered reliable. Upon the
opening of the meeting letters and news
paper articles were read, showing thedrift
of the party in lavor of General Grant for
the Presidency.
The subject was discussed with a great
deal of earnestness, but the tinal result
i that the conference came to was that the
j entire hope of the Radical party was
i centred in the one single idea, viz : to de
feat General Grant for that high
| office. Mr. Greeley said that if Grant
was nominated it. would be recognized as a
triumph of Conservative Republicanism,
as a withdrawal of the negro suffrage
principle by the party, and the Democratic
National Convention the i would at once
endorse Grant’s nomination, and forego
any contest. The result of tliis would tie,
said Mr. Greeley, the abandonment of al!
we have been striving for. tin utter im
possibility of ever having the principle of
manhood suffrage recog, ;iz and am! adopt 1
by tile United .States Government; tin*
immediate reconstruction of the Southern
States, and the Democratic party then
would get into power and l.uld ; . sion
of the Government for the n->:t 'genera
tion. To that consummat; be would
never consent. He would radio: tight it
to tiie hitter end, and therefore, proposed
that the Radicals should commence to
tight Grant at once. By opening a vigor
ous war, and that aliove board, they might
he able to induce the National Conven
tion not to nominate him, and set him
aside for some other Republican, if, how
ever, Grant should be nominated In
advised the wisest policy to be to nominate
a candidate of their own. This brought
Mr. Tilton to his feet, who aid he agreed
with Mr. Greeley, but be could i t -<
how it would have any other result bill
j throwing theeleetton into the hands of
the Democracy. Horace Gre 'ey replied.
| “no such thing,” and then went on con
vincing Mr. Tilton and the lest of his
friends present, that tin* Radicals could
elect their President if they were wise.'—
“But how?” was the query asked by sever
al gentlemen. Horace replied as follow-:
“Suppose the Republican National Con
i vention nominates General Grant; we bolt
and nominate ('base. Tibia will embolden
the Democrats, who then will be of opin
ion that owing to division In our ranks,
they will be able to elect a man of their
own. lienee they will nominate Seymour
or somebody like him. There then will
bo three Presidential candidates in the
Held. Congress, now immensely Radical,
will have u> re-organize the Southern
States on the negro suffrage principle. —
’I bis will secure lor the Radical party a
i sufficient number of States to throw the
| election into the House of Representatives.
• Al this House is now organized, and can
n<jt be changed before election, the Radl-
I ua| candidate is beyond all peradventure
i elected President of the United states.” —
“Tt should be our policy.” Mr. Greeley
1 continued,” to try and beat Grant in those
States we cannot carry, and therefore, may
be compelled to assist the Democrats there.
They, of course, cannot reciprocate, as
then they would elect onr own candidate.
Our object should be solely to heat Grant.
Btiould the cont> stgoon, as 1 think weenn
manage it, the result in thedtjtbrent States
would Was follows.” Mr. Greeley then
submitted these figures:
RADICAL OR CIIAsK STATUS.
Electoral Voles.
MAxsAi liiist tts 12
V<* wont 5
Vligpila in
N«Jrth Carolina 9
South Carolina. 6
(InOrnla »
Florida ,'i
Electoral Votes.
Alabama 1*
Mississippi I
bouUiajia...... 7
Texas 6
Tt nut ssi-i- _.lO
town S
Kansas 3
Total clpctortil votes tor t'hase 103
GRANT OR CONSKKV.VTIY K STATES.
Eh'cioral Votes.
total) gau I
Rhode Island 1
West Virginia 5
Electoral Votes.
Ohio 21
Illinois 16
Wisconsin s
Total electoral vote for (Imnt 62
DEMOCRATIC OR KEY MOVE STATES.
New Jersey 7
Pennsylvania .26
1 lelnwarc ....i .1
Maryland 7
Minnesota I
Arkansas 5
Oregon 8
Nebraska 3
Maine 7 I
New Hampshire 5
Connecticut »i |
Now York T 7 j
Kentucky u
Missouri 11 |
Nevada 3 i
(Yjitoruia 5 |
Total electoral vote for Seymour ! si
Total electoral votes N<4
Required majority 1.13
Alter making tliisexhibit Mr. Greely said:
“I have given the Democrats ail they can
make, and Grant may make more than T
expect, hut as you see, there is not the
least chance to elect him. Jn some of the
States we may have to elect Grant electors,
so as prevent a Democratic success, ami
throw tlie election to the House of Repre
sentatives. That done and C'liaso will be
tin- next President of the United States.”
Rumors are floating aimut town this af
ternoon that the New York Herald lias
been sold for a million of dollars, ami that
Mr. Bennett has leased his new building,
cornerof Broadway and Ann street, to the
same parties, who will commenuce the
publication of the paper on the Ist of Jan
uary next. Os course, as yet, it is impos
sible to trace the rumor to any reliable
son roe,Though mimerousjournalistsheroall
profess to know a great deal about it. Per
haps they do, but they are not always to
bo implicitly believed when it concerns
some important change in the manage
ment of our leading dailies. Mr. Dana is
said to be one of the purchasers, and pos
sibly, also, Mr. Childs, of the Philadelphia
Ledger.
'I lie Decline in Colton.
The great fall in eotton greatly affects
business prospects in the South. The
planters will not make their expenses, and
those who have rented land will lose
money. A large amount of Northern cap
ital invested in cotton planting will bo
lost. Cotton of the new crop now coming
into market is selling in the principal cot
ton depots of the (South ut fourteen or
fifteen cents, tax included. The buyer
generally pays the tax, so the plunter ob
tains about twelve-and-a-half cents, cur
rency, a pound.
All expenses attending the cotton cul
ture are double what they were before the
war. The twelve-and-a-half cents a pound
which the cotton grower receives will be
worth to him but six and a quarter cents,
compared with the specie price of 18i!0.
it is impossible that cotton can bo made
another season at this price.
But the price is still further to decline, as
we hear from the stateof the cottton trade
abroad. East India and Egyptian cotton
will supply the Liverpool market at less
rates even than the present.
East India cotton is now quoted at Liv
erpool at sevenpeuce, and it can be afford
ed with fair profitat fourpence-halfpenuy.
This will el-fvje the Liverpool market
against United States cotton for the future.
Cotton will cease to be an Amercan staple.
With what extraordinary wisdom tnea
did Mr. Morrill, in his defence of the cot
ton tax, urge that the cotton culture was
the most productive of all products in
this country, and the most:ihle of all to
bear taxation. Because cotton was at
thirty cents at one time, he supposed, per
haps, that it would never decline, even in
competition with the product of India.
Any well-informed cotton trader could
have told him better. Besides, he made
no allowance, it seems, for the demoraliza
tion and destruction of black labor in the
(South.
it is reported that at Memphis, a great
cottou mart, the decline of cotton causes
much embarrassment, and that many per
sons there attribute it to combinations in
Liverpool and New York against the
(Southern (States.
But it so happens that the Liverpol
and New York cottou trade severly sutlers
by the decline, and that many of the deal
ers in thestaple are brought by it to the
verge of bankruptcy. Large amounts
have been lost in New York, as well as in
Liverpool, in vain efforts to sustain the
price.
The dry-goods market in New York and
elsewhere feels the cotton decline. The
domestic and imported goods are selling
below cost. Koine cottons bring less prices
then they did before the war, and still the
tendency is downward.
(Jetton factors in the (South advise plant
ers not to hold back their crops in the
iiope of a rise of a cent or two a pound,
as there is more likelihood of further de
cline than of advance.
It ought to he the very first business of
Congress at the ensuing session to repeal
the cottou tax, and provide for refunding
what has been collected upon the crop of
this season.—[National Intelligencer, Oct.
The New Journal in New York.
The New[York Herald,of Tuesday .says:
“A consultation was some time since
held by the leading men of the party in
the city and State, including United States
Senators Morgan and Conkling, ex-Mayor
Opdyke, William M. Evarts, Marshall O.
Roberts, Isaac Sherman, ex-Congressman
Frederick A. Conkling, Williainll. Webb,
A. if. Cornell, S. B. Chittenden,Amos It.
Eno, William T. Blodgett, and others of
equal prominence, which has led to an
important financial combination,by which
it is proposed to establish anew Republi
can organ’in the metropolis, on a secure
basis, free from the erratic propensities of
the Tribune, and the jumping-jack pecu
liarities of the Times. The gentlemen who
have undertaken this enterprise, having
secured tho co-operation of the President
of the Broadway Bank (which institution
enjoys the large profitsof the city deposits),
have agreed to subscribe the following
sums to copimence operations: Messrs.
F. A. Palmer arid Marshall O. Roberts,
twenty thousand dollars each; Messrs.
Morgan, Conkling, Opdyke, Sherman,
Webb, Evarfr, Cornell, Blodgett, Fno,
Murphy, Chittenden Butler, McMartin,
Blake, and Cow den, ten thousand dollars
each. These parties command a capital
of Fix hundred thousand dollars, which
will be doubled if necessary to carry out
their purpose. They have purchased
Tammany Hall, entirely remoddled tho
building, and made arrangements to issue
a morning paper,to be called the Telegraph,
and to commence its sale at two cents a
copy, subject, of course, to such changes as
may hereafter become advisable. This
new Republican organ will lie under tho
editorial management of Charles A. Dana,
formerly one of the principal editors ofthe
New York Tribune, in connection with
the brother of United States Senator
Conkling. Its object will he lo check tho
follies, absurdities, vagaries and vanities
of the Tribune and Times, and to take the
position of the recognized lie publican
organ in the State of New York.”
An Amcsi.vo Incident. —Avery large
and enthusiastic jolification of the Democ*
racy washeld in Hamilton, Butler county,
Ohio, on Saturday. Several thousand ju
bilant Democrat.-, participated. The first
pur of the programme was a torchlight
proc. - ion, in which were to he noticed
many very ingenious transparencies. 1 he
best hit was “ Ben Wade and found want
ing,” which represented a pair of scales
with the Ohio senator in ojy* end and a
gentleman of African descent in the other.
The latter was altogether too heavy for
the former, and weighed him down, the
moral being that thedarkey w as too heavy
for old Ben in the recent elections.
The terrible disaster in the Hoosae tuni
nel, Massachusetts, oil Saturday, caused
the death of thirteen men.