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HELENE OF ORLEANS.
The Unfortunate Princess Who Will
Soon Visit This Country.
Pitiful Romance of Her Life—Barred
by Her Religion From Marriage
With the Duke of Clarence.
Paris Correspondence Sail Francisco Ex
aminer.
Two or three princes and princesses are
on their way to the midwinter exposition
a i San Francisco. The reason of this
early start is that they intend to spend
the cold month 6 of December and Janu
ary in Egypt, after which they will sail
for Melbourne and thence go on to San
Francisco. It is apropos of this voyage
that a writer in the Figaro has been tell
ing us a royal love story, an idyl of over
3,000 words, which, if not a poem, is com
posed in a highly finished style.
The princely names of Battenberg,
Grand Duke Salvator and Archduke Ru
dolph recall the history of two hearts
meeting at the foot of some continental
throne and then finding insurmountable
objects: of their casting far away the
burden of life or the burden of power, to
find in the forgetfulness of death, or in
the shadow of the unknown, the happiness
they dreamed of. But it is of a royal idyl
which has remained respectable, if not
poetical, where no one has been spotted,
and which constitutes a melancholy page
in the eternal book where pity for men
Writes in honor of hearts irretrievably
wounded, that “Amicus'' tells in the
Figaro.
Those persons in Paris who were at
the Lyons railway station last Thursday
might have seen a tall and somewhat
beautiful young lady of gracious appear
ance, of slender and almost imposing
form, and tastefully dressed, enter a
train southward-bound. It was Princess
Helene d’Orleans, Accompanied by M.
and Mme. do Costa, she was on her way
to Brindisi, where her brother, the Duke
d’Orleans. awaited her. With him she
leaves for Egypt, where the royal
travelers will live until the approach of
the warm season. Then, when she is
sufficiently recovered from her presest
grief, she will go around the world and
will cross the Pacific to San Francisco, so
as to visit the midwinter exposition
toward the end of March.
It is a secret for no one that the Prin
cess Helene had a profound affection,
that was touching in its sincerity. It
was an affection fully returned, and the
Duke of Clarence, eldest son of the Prince
of Wales, its object. This love began
during a visit made by the Count de Paris
and his family to Queen Victoria at Bal
moral. There, as every whore else. Prin
cess Helene's truly royal elegance, the
Charm of her smile and the gentleness of
her eye3, won all hearts. More than all
others the Duke of Clarence was struck
by her womanly grace, and a spontaneous
affection sprang up quickly in their hearts.
Timidly at first, and then rosolulely, the
avowals of the one were listened to with
sympathy by the other, and in the touch
ing confidence of both the prospect of a
happy marriage seemed a sure one.
' Then an almost insurmountable obstacle
appeared—a difference of religion. It was
hoped, however, that this obstacle would
be loss formidable than it seemed to be
at first. There had been a precedent. A
princess of Orleans, Marie, daughter of
the Duke of Chartres, had married a
Danish prince, Valdemar, who was of the
Protestant religion. Pope Leo XII. had
censented to that union on condition, it is
true, that the sons born of it should be
Protestants, but that the daughters
should be reared in the Roman Catholic
faith.
Thus far the Prince and Princess Val
demar, of Denmark, have had three sons,
who are reared in the Protestant fdith.
It is true also that Prince Valdemar is
eixth son of the King and Queen of Den
mark : that he has no chance whatever of
mounting the Danish throne, and that, in
consequenee, the concessions made by the
pope are less striking as favors and less
important in their consequences than if it
had been a question of heir-presumption
to the English crown. It is true also
that these negotiations with the Vatican
were confided to the late Duke Decazes,
who, having a very ardent desire to see
this union concluded, conducted the nego
tiations in such a way that later on it was
pretended near the pope that the conces
sions had not been very explicitly given,
and that, in fact, the pope found himself
in the presence of an accomplished fact
without knowing exactly the conditions
under which this marriage was made and
the clauses to which the Duke of Chartres
had given his signature.
Nevertheless, Princess Helene was per
suaded that such a precedent would suffice
to obtain from Deo XIII his consent un
der the same conditions, and she then
made the avowal of her love to her father
the Count de Paris. If Princess Helene’
ahines by her exterior beanty, she also
possesses a well-tempered soul, a clear,
Ooncise mind, a reason which looks the
future in the face and which foresees and
weighs the difficulties of to-morrow,
studying them with care and energy. In
a word, she recalls her grandmother, the
Duchess d’Orleans, whose high and ener
getic intelligence stimulated during the
revolution that carried off her family the
failing courage of some and excited the
admiration of all.
The Count de Paris did not protest
against the simple avowal made to him.
He bowed before the sentiment of his
daughter and responded that no union
was possible without the consent of the
holy see, naturally admitting that on the
side of the Duke of Clarence and the
royal family of England no serious objec
tion would be raised. This being arranged
nothing would have to be done but to be
In accord, once the exact conditions were
known, with the consent that was to be
asked of the holy father.
It was then that the Princess Helene
went to Rome. She was armed with no
particular means of penetrating into the
presence of the holy father. She could
not apply to any of the French ambassa
dors near the quirinal or the Vatican,
and she, the daughter of the prince ex
iled from his country, princess of the
royal house of France, found herself at
Rome placed between two representatives
os the republic, neither one of whom she
<Jared to ask to serve as her intermediary
with the pope.
As soon as the Pope knew of her desire
he hastened to have her informed that he
was ready to receive her. She went to
him, and on receiving her Leo „%111 was
filled with sadness and with admiration,
for, behind the beauty of her face his
paternal solicitude divined the anguish
of a soul, and it was with the utmost !
kindness that he asked the reason of her !
visit.
Princess Helene told him of her love
and made him see the advantage of having
a Catholic princess seated on the steps
of the English throne, perhaps, onedav,
on the throne itself. She recalled the con
ditions under which he had given his oon
•ent to the marriage of Princess Marie de
Chartres with Prince Valdemar, of Den
mark, and she explained that she be
lieved these conditions would be sufficient
to keep the royal family of England from
interposing objections lo her marriage.
But Leo XIII remained inflexible, and
then the young princess, her eyes tint bed
in tears, made a touching appeal, showing
him how happy or miserable his decision |
would render her. The po|>e was silent,
and she made another effort. Leo cried 1
out: “Yes, I understand your suffering
I feel It. But when one has the honor
and glory to be a princess of this royal
race which lias ever made of Kraucc the
eldest daughter of the church, she must
knui* bow Uj suffer everything fur her
faith ; she must accept with dignity the
sufferings worthy of the secular glories
which sho has inherited. Not only
must! withhold my consent to what you
ask of me, but you yourself must an
nounce my refusal to the young prince to
i whom your heart is given. It is you who
1 must make him accept my resolution
without murmuring against it. It is you
I who must urge him to accept other bonds,
so as to assure the succession to the
throne of which he is the heir."
With these words the pope, who was
| visibly exhausted, extended his hands on
; the forehead of the princess kneeling at
! his feet, remained awhile in silent prayer,
and then abruptly closed the interview
and returned to his oratory.
The princess, almost overcome, made a
supreme effort to compose herself while
' crossing the galleries and the Salle des
i Gardes, where the chamberlains and the
; Swiss officers ranged themselves respect
fully on her passage. Then she took ref
uge under the dome of St. Peter, and
her sacrifice at the foot of the cross which
stands before the grand altar.
On her return to England Helene gave
to Clarence the message the Pope had
sent, and urged him to consent to other
bonds, and to think of the succcessor he
ought to give himself if he ever sat on
the throne of the United Kingdom.
I-ateron. as we ail know, the Duke of
Clarence was betrothed to Princess May,
but it can be said to-day, now that one is
married and the other dead, that he
never effaced from his memory the image
of the young princess to which he had
given his heart. When he was ill. and
stretched on a bed from which he was
uevsr to rise again, those who surrounded
him were always careful when he was in
delirium to send Princess May out of the
room, which she seldom left, so that she
might not hear the sufferer ceaselessly in
voke the name of the princess from whom
he had been forever separated
As for Helene, she was not obliged to
drink to the dregs the bitter cup which
her lips had touched. She did not have
to see the one she loved so dearly become
the husband of another.
Princess May was able to console her
self by another marriage, which again
placed heron the steps of the English
throne. As for Princess Helene, she is at
present cn routo for the Orient, leaving
that Europe which has seen the suffer
ings of her young heart.
•A NEW SOURCE OF POWER.
Underground Streams Are Used in
South Dakota—The Plans.
From the Street Railway Review.
The artesian well district of South Da
kota is located in the valley of the James
river, covering a tract about forty miles
wide and 200 miles long. The James river
Is about half way between the Missouri
and the eastern boundary of the state.
The water-bearing rock is found at from
900 to 1,000 feet from the surface.
The reasons for thinking that the sup
ply is practically inexhaustible art; based
both on the theories advanced by the
United States government geologists and
on o v served facts in connection with the
sinking of wells. The government theory
is founded on the fact that the same stra
tum in which the water found outcrops
in the beds of the Upper Missouri and
Yellowstone rivers, and the base of the
Rocky mountains. The water sinking in
this porous stratum of reck, follows it for
hundreds of miles, until tapped by the
South Dakota wells. It has long been be
lieved that there is more water in the
Missouri river above the Great Falls than
there is thirty miles below. For twentv
flve or thirty miles below tho falls the
river bed is composed of the same sand
formation in which the South Dakota
wells get their water.
if this theory Is < orrect, as it probably
is, the supply of water to these wells may
be looked upon as inexhaustible—at least,
as much as the sources of our Rocky
mountain streams. During the June
rise in the Upper Missourrl river, tho
pressure in tho wells rises. No diminu
tion in presence has been noticed in any
of the wells in the district, except by
clogging up with mud due to improper
piping. The city well at Redflled has
been down seven years. Its pressure has
been constant, although numerous other
wells have since been sunk at no great
great distances from it. The well fur
nishes a direct pressure system of water
works, supplying all tho “domestic neods
of tho city, and so great confidence is
placed upon the pressure and supply that
the lire department requires no tire en
gines. The closed pressure of this well
is 171 pounds, and cost for maintenance is
absolutely nothing.
About a mile and a half distant is
another well, used for running an electric
light plant and for irrigation. A descrip
tion of this well will suffice to give a fair
idea of all. It is 1,000 feet deep, and six
Inches in diameter from top to bottom.
When closed, the pressure is 165 pounds.
When allowed to flow freelv through the
6-inch pipe, it yields 2,037 gallons nor
minute, and rises to a bight of sixteen
feet in the air. When the water is
escaping through a 2-inch pipe the well
pressure is 128 pounds, and with a 2‘F
lnch oix;ning 95 pounds. From this it is
estimated that with a 4-foot Pelton wheel,
80-horse power would be developed with a
2-inch opening, and a 100-horse power with
a 2 s i-inch. With the plain undershot
wheel at present in place, 50-horse power
is developed, and it is calculated that
about 15 more is available with it. The
flow is absolutely steady. This will cost
about $3,(199.
At Chamberlain a 150-barrel flour mill
and light plant, formerly run by steam. Is
now using “well-power.’’ These two
plants were started in September, 1883.
At Huron a well is about to be sunk by
the city, for electric lighting purposes.
Tho first electric light plant in the state
run from a well Is at Mellette, a town of
400 inhabitants. It is safe to sav that
very few plants in the world are doing a
paying business in so small a place. This
plant is thriving, however. and has con
nected 10 4-ampere arcs and 15016-candle
power iucandeseents. The well is only
4,'-tj inches in diameter from top to bottom,
but it operates besides tho electric light
plant, a flour mill, which grinds 150 bar
rels of flour a day and 50 bushels of feed
per hour. This work would require an
eugiue 40-horse power. The well is 910
feet deep. Its pressure when closed 178
pounds. The flow is 1,600 gallons per
minute.
Electric railways are already being
considered, to connect farms and small
villages with larger railroad towns. Tho
most feasible of the plans proposed is to
take lands in tracts of about four sections
and sink two 8-lnch wells at the middle
of the tfact, which would be divided into
thirty-two farms of eighty acres. The
water from both of these wells would be
used for power and afterwards for irriga
tion.
The power from one well would light
and heat the hamlet of thirty-two fami
lies, and the other would run an electric
railway connecting with the large towns.
Considering that the water is used for
irrigation, It is probably the cheapest
power for use in small quantities in the
world. The outlay for an 80-horse |>ower
well is, as was seen, about $3,000, the in
terest on which would be $2,26 per horse
power per annum. This with the inter
est and depreciation on the water wheel
is the only exixmse for primary motive
power, aside from labor. A S3OO or S4OO
building gives tho wheel and dynamo a
good shelter.
The repairs to water-wheel ought to be
almost zero, and the skill of the men em
ployed for attendance does not begin to
be tbut required In a steam plant.
Judging from tbs fact that s superb syna
cogue has just been dedicated at St. Peters
tmrg, It would appear that the persecution of
tba Hebrews by the O/ar Is not altogether a >
terrible as bus been described The syna
gogue is i obstructed lu ornate irieutal style
and at the dedication ceremony there were
present a large number of officials of nigh
rank.
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, FEBRUARY IS, 1891.
MIGHTY SEAS WERE THESE.
Great Damage Which Has Been
Wrouught by Tidal Waves
The Norxn&nni&’s Escape From
Destruction— Towns Which Have
Been Overwhelmed by the Ocean.
From the New York Trlubune.
The so-called tidol wave which played
such havoc with the Norman nia has drawn
attention to the fact that great seas, the
cause of which is sometimes known and
will arise on that great mass of water
which encircles the earth. These grefct
and towering masses of water aro not
tidal waves, though they are popularly
called so. Asa matter of fact, they aro
in their origin and their effect entirely
separate from the tides or their action.
The tidal waves flow in courses as weil
defined and as well marked out as the
courses of rivers. These great wavea,
which swamp and demoralize big ships,
devastate islands andidepopulate coasts,
are local in their origin and in their
effect.
The human mind never has been able
satisfactorily to solve the problem of the
deep or put its scientific formula; upon
the restless waves. The third sea is the
highest of the series, a fact of which
every one who has made his living on the
“vasty ocean” id well assured.
STRUCK BT A THIRD SKA.
It was a third sea which swept over the
the Normannla. Why u third sea should
be higher than the two which rolled
before it all the algebra in the world has
never been able to explain, lu the case
of the Normannia the second sea was an
uuusually big one, and the valley between
it and the third sea was unusually small.
The big third sea was as much bigger
tliau the ordinary third sea as
the second sea down which
the great ship plunged was Digger than
the ordinary second sea. Tho first sea
was an ordinary one and the officer on
watch was surprised at the size of the
second. When the ship plunged down
the further side of the second wave
the officer saw the great mass of the third
sea in front of him, If the ship had been
stouter she would have climoecl up the
watery wall before her, but she was so
long that the second wave lifted herstern
and did not let it go until her bows had
struck the third wave. Sho might as
well have struck an iceberg as that great
mass of water, She was going at a speed
of sixteen knots an hour, and probably
the wave was traveling faster 'Die im
pact was terrific, and the only wonder is
that the ship survived it.
EXPERIENCE OF ANOTHER VESSEL.
Fifteen years ago a vessel under similar
circumstances would have sought the
•port of the missing ship.’’ Such waves
as that encountered by the Nor
mannia are by uo means * tidal waves.
They are waves which arc infrequent and
the causes of which can only be guessed
at, but are not without record.
Last winter one of the Allan State LiSo
steamers iram Glasgow to New York
encountered just sueh a wave. She was
so oadly wrecked that she had to put
back to port. At that time the writer
was approaohing the Azores on the
Fuerst Bismarck, and it was a matter of
remark that all the North Atlantic
seemed to be pouring itself southward.
For several days, while the weather was
fair and there was scarcely a breeze, the
long and heavy waves extended from
horizon to horizon, and the third
wave showed only a small excess
of hight over tho two waves
which preceded it. At the same
time that the Fuerst Bismarck was roll
ing in the long seas sweeping southward
the wave which nearly swamped tho
Allan State Line steamer was rushing
eastward.
TUE MOON HELD RESPONSIBLE.
The true tidal waves, as has been said,
move in regular courses which have been
made the subject of much study, but of
which the data are still incomplete. The
moon is held responsible for the westward
movement of the waters which men call
tides. It is said that it “gets its grip" on
the ocean in that waste and desolate
space of ocean south of the Indian sea,
When the mass of water is lifted it
sweeps araund tho Capo of Rood Hope,
and so around the world, dividing itself
into more or less well-defined tidal waves,
or, as hydrographers wouldocall them,
tidal currents. The tidal waves which
affect the eastern shores of this country
are called for purixisea of classification
the second and third tidal waves. The
first tidal wave throws itself bn the lesser
Antilles and under tho iutiucnco
of the trade winds gathers enough force
to become the tides along the Gulf
Stream. The second tidal wave causes
the tides along the Atlantic coast of the
United States as far eastward as Gay
Head. Then the third tidal wave begins
its work.
WHERE THEY HAVE EIQHt\idES A DAY.
One of the few places in the world, if
not the only place, where two tidal waves
overlap, is at Falmouth, in Vineyard
Soutnu. At that place there are. as
shown by the observation of the United
States Coast Survey, eight tides a day,
four high waters and four low
waters. The first tidal observer
who was sent to observe the
tides at Falmouth in 1878 was surprised
b.v the rapid rise and—fall, and after
correctly entering in his book a day or
two's fluctuations of the sea apparently
thought that the ocean had gone crazy,
and began to record “Now she s going
up—now she's going down.’’ When his
book came to the chief of the hydro
graphic party an officer was sent down to
see the ocean, as the observer was treating
the supposed laws of nature contemptu
ously. The overlapping of the two tidal
waves was then discovered.
Most of the great tidal waves—which,
it must be remembend. have nothing to
do with the tide at all—have occurred
in the Western hemisphere. A notable
one was that which sweptinto the Bay of
St. Thomas in October, 1868. That tidal
wave was the result of an earthquake
which was felt throughout the Windward
Islands. At that time the question of
the annexation of the islands to the United
States was mooted.
AN EARTHQUAKE CAUSED DARING RHYMES.
The earthquake apd the tidal wave gave
Bret Harte an excuse for his daring
rhymes with the name Thomas, In put
ting the thing into poetry he began:
Very fair and full of promise,
La.v the Is.and of St. l'horaas;
There, said William Henry Seward,
As he cast his eyes to leeward,
iQuite important to our commerce,
Is this island of St Thomas.
The harbor of St Thomas was crowded
with shipping on that Octooer day. when
the hills and mountains bog an to shake
and tho water ran out of tho harbor, to
come back again in a devastating flood.
Except for the trembling of the earth
there was no warning of what was about
to take place. Among the American
ships in the harbor at the time was the
< olumbia- She went rushing backward
and forward across the harbor, when the
great wave came in and I
sank several vessels in her
mail career Finally she struck
the flnntiug dry dock which had Just been
placed In the harbor,and sank Hand her- ,
self Over 100 lives were lost in tbst 1
gn at tidal wave, and the shore was
strewn with wreckage and atrauded
vessels
MANY WRECKS IN THE HARBOR
Captain William Conner, for a consider
able time agent of tue Pari lie Msil
Steamship Company at Colou, and now a
resident of this city, was an officer of the
steamer North America at that time, and
reached St. Thomas on the day after the
tidal wave. In speaking of it recently he
said: “The harbor was a scene of wreck
and desolation. Everywhere ships were
j ashore, and old wrecks, which for twenty
! years had lain at tho bottom of the bay,
buried in the mud and forgotten, were
torn from their graves and flung upon the
beach. The water had swept through
the town up to the bases of the hills.
People said that when the water ran out
of the harbor they saw the bottom rise
and great rocks poke themselves through
!iL We were bound for Brazil, and when
! we came back north we put into St.
i Thomas to coal. It was Sunday when we
i got in there, and we expected to coal ship,
| ns we had frequently done before on that
day. But the effects of the earthquake
and the tidal wave were still patent, and
. and not a negro on the island would put
a hand to a basket on the Sabbath. I
never saw a more religious community
than St. Thomas was at that time.
By this great tidal wave forty
schooners, besides many other craft, were
wrecked in the harDor of St. Thomas.
The earthquake which, •afflicted St.
Thomas by bringing upon it this great
rush of waters was. as explained, felt all
through the Windward Island* and
second only to its effect at St. Thomas
: was its effect at Santa Cruz, On that
island the shock of tho earthquake was
| greater than at St. Thomas, but the
j devastation to shipping by reason of the
resulting tidal wave was less.
The most memorable thing
about the tidal wave at Santa
Cruz was that the American man-of
war Monongahela, which wasl.vingin the
harbor, was lifted bodily b.v the wave, and
left by the receding waters in the mar
ket place of the town with all her crew and
armament on board. She was afterward
successfully launched and returned to her
place as' sea a rover.
A MAN-OF-WAR I,EFT IN THE HII.LS.
One other so-called tidal wave, often
six)ken of, was the one which occurred in
1N66 on tho west coast of South America
and which struck with particular force
at Iqulquo, then on tho coast of Peru, but
now territory. The United
States ship VVateres was in port at that
time, and it was lifted liy the wave and
carried back of the town to be deposited
on the foothills of tho mountains. When
the wave receded the officers and crew of
the WateTee saw fifty foot below them the
expanse of the Pacific Ocean. The town
was wrecked, but not annihilated. Of
how many lives were lost there is no
official reeord. but it must have been that
many were drowned. The old Wateree
was for many years after her strange trip
us-d as a store ship, and her remains are
still on tho hill back of Iqulque. This
tidal wave like the one at St. Thomas,
was accompanied by a shock of earth
quake.
In 1885 in Manzunilla Bay, the road
stead of Colon, t here occurred a tidal wave
which was not accompanied by a shock of
earthquake. The sea. which alwavs.
under the influence or the constant trade
winds, rolls in that bay, suddenly began
to get higher and higher. The wave
became so high Hint no vessel could hold
its anchor, and a great sea rushing in
swept them all ashore. Fifty lives were
lost on that day and much property was
destroyed. All these great and sudden
risings of tho waters of the ocean referred
to, except the one which struck the Allan
State Line steamer, have taken place in
fair weather, with at least moderate seas.
When the tidal waves which were accom
panied by earthquake shocks took place
they were preceded by unusually calm
seas.
WAS AFRAID OF “HA’NTS.’’
Novel Method by Which Stolen Monty
was Recovered From a Negro.
From the St Louis Repul llc.
Trimble, Tenn., Feb. B, Several Trim
ble citizens who attended the hanging and
cremation of the negro at Bardwell, Ky.,
on the 7th of last July brought home with
them pieces of the victim’s charred bones
as momentos of the occasion.
The piece secured by Sam Thrope, a
small portion of too skull, has in a most
peculiar raauner resulted in the recovery
of $125, which was stolen from him on
Monday last. On that day Thorpe came
downtown for his mail, and when he re
turned an hour later he found that some
one had entered his room through a win
dow and purloined $125 from his trunk.
Suspicion pointed to Tobe Winstead,
colored, as the thief, and f iirapo accused
him of the theft; but the negro stoutly
denied his guilt anil Sam knejv it was
useless to have him arrested. So firmly
impressed was Thrope with the correct
ness of his suspicion that he determined
to endeavor to scare Tobo into a confes
sion of the theft.
Last night he tied the little bit of bone
in a piece of cloth and buried it under
Tobe s doorstep. This morning Sam went
to Jack Benton s, a colored neighbor of
Tobe's, and began digging under his door
step with his pocketknife. In a few mo
ments Jack came out and, curiously
enough, inquired:
“What you huutin’ fur. Mars Sam?”
“I dreamed last night,” said Tnrope,
“that the spirit o( that negro who was
hanged at Bardwell last summer came to
mo aud (old me that he would take that
piece of his skull i had and bury it under
the doorstep of the person who stole my
money, and that if the thief did not give
it up lie would haunt him until his dying
dav. When I awoke this morning that
piece of skull bone which you have secu
so often was gone from my pockot. I be
lieve the spirit of that nerro took it and
hid it under the doorstep of the man who
stole my $125.”
“ Fo’ Gawd! I didn't take that money,
Mars Sam!” exclaimed the darky af
frightedly, “and I hopes you won’t go
fimlih’ no bone under my doorstep, fur
I’m scared of ba’nts. and don't want
nuffin’ ter do wid dat dead nigger!'
The search was fruitless, anil, followed
by Jack and several other darkies who
had come up. Thrope walked over to the
house of another negro and began digging
under his doorstep. Tobe, who saw the
proceedings from his house, came over to
learn what was up. Thrope again related
his dream and the mysterious disappear
ance o 4 the bone. Tobe put on as bold a
face as he could under jhe circumstances
and smilingly said:
“Pshaw, Mars Sam! Don't .you know
ha’nts can’t do dat? You los’ das bone
out your pocket yesterday ebenin’, I
speets ”
“I don't believe in spirits much my
self." replied Thrope, “but I thought I
would look, for I am certain I had that
bone in my po kel when I went to bed last
night.”
The bone not being found under the
step, the crowd fbllowed Thrope over lo
Tobe's house, whore, under the back door
step, Sam took out his knife and began to
dig. In a few minutes the bag was un
earthed.
“Goodl-awd! What’s dat?” “Dat's a
hoodoo bag, suah as I live!” and such ex
clamations came* from the astonished and
frightened darkies.
"I don't know what It is. but wo will
see in a minute,” said Sam, who. cutting
the string with which the bag was tied, J
allowed the bone to drop into his open
l>*lm. There was a burst of astonish
ment from all present, and some drew
back in alarm.
"Oh, Mars Sum!” cried Tobe, quaking
with fear. "I ’clar’ fo’ Gawd 1 don’t want
dat dead nigger to ha nt me. Mars Sain,
hab mercy on me; but I got dat money
and I’ll gin ebory cent ob it back to you.
Please don't bring dat bone into de house
Gib it to Jack dere and come In an’ I’ll gib
you all your money back.”
Jack would not hold the bone, so I'll rope
laid It on the doorstep and followed Tone
Into the bouse aud soou came out with
bis money
The thief will go unpunished, as Thrope
refuses to prosecute him.
MONACOS TINY STATE.
An Earthly Paradise On the Blue
Mediterranean's Shore.
Its Ruler’s Court, Army, and Pag
eantry Like That of a Full-fledged
Monarch—Charms of Scenery and
Human Interest.
From the New York Sun.
Monaco, Jan. 17. —The Arctic week at
the beginning of January, following on a
month of December of such surprising
mildness that flowers and leaves made an
untimely and unprecedented appearance,
drove hundreds of Londoners to the
south. Travelers experienced all thd
discomforts they fled from in delayed
trains, snow drifts, cutting winds, and
icy storms ohly to learn on their arrival
on the shores of the Mediterranean that
the cold weather had vanished in England
as abruptly as it came, and the sun was
shining there with almost as much
brilliancy and warmth as on the Riviera.
However, those well-inspired visitors
who selected Monaco instead of Nice,
Hyeres or Cannes have had no cause to re
pent their determination, the small prin
cipality more than holding its own against
tbo more i>opular and hackneyed attrac
tions of the French seaboard localities.
There is a singular charm in finding one
self in a sovereign dominion that might
be held entirely in the circumference of a
kodak, and to know that the ruler hold
ing sway over it is, with the emperor of
all the Russias. the only monarch inde
pendent of the control Of his people. Yet,
in spite of this strange condition of af
fairs, which, in ordinary cases, would
have doomed any other country to ruin
anil extinction, Monaco flourishes and
prospers, because Monaco has the raison
d’etre of being the favored realm of poetry,
romance and imagination ; ithas exempted
itself from the yoke of realism that
weighs so heavily on all its neighbors,
and constitutes by that fact alone a
unique earthly paradise for the dreamer.
The tiny feudal state lives because in
the midst of parliamentary governments
there was room for one small inviolate
spot, in which the forms of the past
couid endure; an oasis into which practi
cal civilization had not brought its atten
dant claims of war, taxes, and civil debts;
where its independent prince, exercising
a nominal power ami pretending to no
outward influence, yet maintains a court
and surrounds himself with dignitaries
and officials so as to keep up the illusion
of bis prestige ana the etiquette of mon
archy. All his functionaries live
conscientiously up to appearances; thoy
know how perfunctory are their duties:
how the government has nothing to
govern; but their acting is irreproacha
ble. A state is nothing without an army,
so Monaco has Us soldiers, clothed in line
red and blue uniforms and commanded bv
aiolonoland his staff; they are enlisted
for their pood looks and elegant carriage;
even tho policemen are called carabineers,
which euhances their value and makes
them more picturesque. All these mili
tary personages walk and parade about,
adding one more touch to the autonomy of
their country.
But beyond and above these material
details, which are not without iuqior
tanco. Monaco possesses what alone
would make it a matchless sovereignty.
Nature aud climate combine to endow it
with unique prerogatives. From the
broad terrace of the casino the deep blue
of the sea stretches lazy and undulating
to the furthest horizon where it meets
the pale silvery azure of the sky w hich
gradually deepens to a rich intensity of
color as it domes itself above the iand,
and against the brilliant background the
gray crest of the mountains is profiled
with marvelous clearness. The air is
so light and transparent that every de
tail of the sea and landscape stands out
sharply. The many indentations of the
coast line are fringed with the dazzling
foam of tho long, indolent waves lapping
the sand; towns, villages and villas,
white under the sunshine, do' the shore
and hillside, luminous between the groves
of olive, yew and ilex; above rise the
rums of the Roman tower of Turbia in
juxtaposition with the modern, but nol
ungraceful, new station to Monte Carlo;
further ou still, the eye can see Ro •ca
bruna clinging to the steeo rocks: Cape
Martin where the Empress Eugenie hits
built her villa, and in the remote trans
lucent haze Bordighera rising from the
blue water.
The little principality nestles in this
frame of magnificent scenery shaped like
the letter “u ;” the town stands on one
of the forks, facing Monte Carlo on the
other, while the sea fills the cavity and is
at once gulf and harbor. The opening is
not more than 1,600 yards at its broadest,
and the depth inland does not jycceed
some 1,200 more. Land being so scarce
the houses are closely built and very tall,
but picturesque and adorned with grace
ful balcouics and verandas; they are
raised on terraces so constructed that
irom tho bay they look like painted
scenery and yet afford to each house an
excellent view. Nothing could be more
artificial and nothing prettier; even the
trains winding along seem to carry toy
carriages to Monte Carlo, which, although
standing ou a rocky plateau like Monaco,
differs from it so essentially.
The rock of Monaco is a feudal anachro
nism carefully preserved; it is rea hed
by winding sunken roads between castel
lated walls: the gates and pesterns date
from tho sixteenth century, and it is for
tified by crenelated battlements. In the
centre of the platau stands the palace of
the ruler, flanked by four square towers,
unadorned, save by the upper decoration
of crossed palm leaves in the Byzantine
style. The town proper is ofd, with nar
row tortuous streets, enlivened by the
half-raised, striped awnings of the win
dows. These thoroughfares rarely re
sound to the oeho of passing footsteps, for
although the palace Is, as it were
tbo heart of the principality, it of
fers no attraction to tho visitors who
much prefer to its melancholy grace the
bustle of the gay Casino. They smile con
temptuously at the symetrleally heaixtd
balls before the bronze cannons inscribed
with tho famous motto, “Ultima ratio
regm.” The spirit of the past lingers
within that narrow onclosvre of a few
square yards and it* traditions are piopsly
preserved by the reigning prince, who
will not allow a modern hotel to be
erected on those hallowed precincts. That
he does so is touching and pr .iseworty,
for he is both enlightened and broad
minded; he has made for himself a name
in science, exploration, and travel, anti
fostered modern improvement* wherever
they did not interfere with the relics and
traditions of his race.
If Monaco is a remnant of the past,
Monte Carlo is as emphatically the em
bodiment of the present; as such it is
most frequented, appreciated ami popu
lar; it is the center of a feverish un
healthy, stimulating, dangerous, but fas
cinating life. Who does not knew its
splendid terrace, the magnifleent prospect
the palms, aloes, oleander and pepper
trees, the pigeon shooting, the winter
garden with Its eternally blossoming
flowers! Indeed, all Monte Carlo is a fair
garden; all its villas are elegant, all its
hotels luxurious, all the dwellings therein
wealthy and idle. Nowhere is there any
reminder of the prosale necessities of ex
istence to be met by toil and labor; the
gay butterflies of pleasure have taken
possion of the fairy scene ami reign
supreme.
At dusk when Monte Carlo is brilliant
ly illuminated, and pulsates withs more
active life, old Monaco across the hay
sinks to its quint slumbers, neither hear
ing nor bending what takes place on the
opposite rock; it accept* or suffers lu
GLASS MANUFACTURERS.
SOUTHERN GLASS CO~.
GLASS BOTTLES & JARS.
This company is now ready to execute promptly or
ders for Bottles and Jars at attractive prices. Our ware
is guaranteed to be as good as the best. Prices furnished
on special moulds on application. Fruit Jars a specially.
Address
FEHRIARY 184 SOUTHERN CLASS COMPANY, Atlanta, Ca.
neighbor as a necessity, but gives no sign
of approval or censure.
Perhaps the Casino is the mainstay of
the principality. Perhaps the gambling
tables replenish the public coffers, and the
visitors support its exchequer; but as the
experiment has not been made to suppress
this possible source of revenue, the crou
piers and the green cloth, no one can tell
what effect the measure would have on
the finances. And what matter after all!
Such as it is, Manaco is simply perfect;
the halcyon days glide away serenely de
lightful, and when a funeral tolls at rare
intervals, or the tinkling bells of the viat
icum being carried to a deathbed, one is
rudely startled, as If it were impossible
for death or suffering to touch with their
sombre wings a scene so fair, a peace so
profound, a population so happy, a land so
blessed. M. de S.
MR. CHILDS AND NEWSPAPERS.
His Kindneas Toward Other Sheets,
and Active Interest in His Own.
From the New York Sun.
Many of the obituary Dotices of the late
George W. Childs mentioned the fact that
he would never allow criticism of another
newspaper or another newspaper's course
to be printed in his own newspaper, and
that be always rejoiced over the success
of his direct rivals. So true was this that
he never seemed to think that there could
be any rivalry in newspaper publishing,
so far as his own enterprise was con
cerned. His ingenious belief that tne
Leiger was beyond the reach of rivalry
and that it towered in motives and in fact
above all other newspapers often made
his closest friends smile, but never in his
presence. Fond as he was of making
gifts and of receiving praise for what he
did, the Ledger was, after' all, the chief
object of his affection. To a Sun man.
who dropped in his office a year or two
ago to renew a former acquaintance when
the younger man lived in Philadelphia,
Mr. Childs said:
“I try to find time to look over the Sun
everv day. One thing I like about it very
much, and that is its manifest desire to
be accurate in every detail, even the
smallest. That is one of the things I have
tried hardest for in the Ledger. Tnis is
why I think that the Sun approaches
nearer to tho Ledger as a great newspa
per than any I know.”
Mr. Childs said this so earnestly and
so seriously that his listener had no diffi
culty in repressing th • smile that other
wise might have come over his features
had a similar comparison of newspaper
excellencies been a topic of conversation
elsewhere. Just after Mr. Childs made
this remark his office boy brought in a
card and Mr. Childs said, “Show him
right in,” saying to the Sun man, “Sit
right still; he will stay only a moment.”
The caller was a man of middle age.
He was 111 and worried. The two men
greeted oacta other cordially.
“I've come to say good-bye.” said the
visitor, his lips quivering and his eyes
filling with tears. “I don't know how to
thank——”
"Don't say anything about that.” said
Mr. Childs, slowly moving toward the
door ar.d gently, almost imperceptibly,
pulling tho visitor t with him. The two
whispered half a minute together. Mr.
Childs got the other man to the thresh
old, and with a warm handshake actually
pushed him outside, although it is doubt
ful if the caller knew he had done so.
“You didn't recognize that man, did
you?” askod Mr. Childs when he came
back. "Why, I'm surprised; but then
he's changed so in appearance. He is Mr.
Blank,” mentioning the name of the edi
tor and publisherof a well known evening
newspaper of Philadelphia. “I'm afraid
he won’t live long. Helms been worried
over business, and the doctors ordered
him to go to Europe. I heard ho couldn't
afford to go bo.ause of his business
troubles, so I have just put my bank ac
count at the disposal of his business man
ager while ho is gone. Now he’ll go off
aud not worry and ir. may save his life.
Besides, I do not like to see another
newspaper go down. I was afraid ho and
break down, and that’s why I told you he
wouldn't stay long' and why I urged him
toward the door, as you must have seen.’’
The amiable vanity which Mr. Childs
displayed in telling of his own kindness,
a quality much understood by those who
saw no other side of him and who fre
quently commented on this in print as a
great weakness in a great man, was par
donable because of that mysterious some
thing in his manner which showed that
self glorification had almost no share in
the recital, and that it was the love of
doing a good turn to another that
prompted him to tell of his satisfaction
in it.
Most of tho leading reporters of Phila
delphia knew Mr. Childs well personally.
Ho was one of ths few no .vspapor men
who would give other newspaper men a
beat on his own newspaper. Ho was often
the repository of much information, par
ticularly about the Drexel affairs, so
cially as well as financially, that was of
public interest and that he could not pub
lish himself. He always insisted upon ;
being hidden as the source of informs- i
tion. but time and time again would give
out news of absorbing lo al interest and
see his own newspaper beaten. The next
day the Ledger would come with a “sec
ond-day story,” but after that would
keep up with the others iu publishing the
news.
The one newspaper beat that Mr.
Childs took absolute delight in was the
Belknap scandal of tho Grant regime.
Tho Ledger was the only newspaper in
Philadelphia to publish this important
news. Mr. Childs had secured confirma
tion of its truth in person the day before
from President Grant himself, and he had
a big “scoop” on the town.
Mr. Borie, of Philadelphia, was Secre
tary of the Navy at the time. He was in
Philadelphia when the exposure came
out. He hustled to Mr. Childs' office, and
as he hurriea in he exclaimed;
“Mr. Childs, isn’t that story about
Belknap an outrage! Of course, it’s
news, and you had to print it. I have just
mailed to Belknap a letter expressing my
sympathy and indignation.”
“Mailed that letter!"asked Mr. Childs.
“Yes, 1 just put it in the letter box my- i
self.” J I
"Well, hurry to the |>ost office and get
that letter back," said Mr. Childs. “That
story is true. President Grant told me
so yesterday.”
Mr. Childs probably told this story 500 ;
times, but he tolil it the last time with as
much interest and satisfaction in a big
beat as he did the first time. Comment
inr on this trait cf his character, one of
his friends said that Mr. Childs .was a
philanthropist most of the time, but a
newspaper man all the time.
Waco, Te*., Is to Usve a $75,1*10 cotton pal |
ace. sud It is hop •* to have Mr. Cleveland
Visit the state during the exposition. The
uuilillng will te constructed of staff, nut ail
ihe decorations will be of the staple, and !
'•but Cotton will surmount the dome
THE DOOM OF CAHABA.
The Once Gay Capital Of Alabama
Whiped Off The Map.
Sals of the Old Town Site by ths
Sheriff at Selma—Strange Story 0 f
Vicissitudes in War and Peace- An
Ex-Slave the Purchaser and $530
the Price.
From the St. Lou in Republic.
Birmingham, Ala., Feb. B.—Perhaps
the irony and the pathos of fate were
never more strikingly exemplified than
in a sheriff’s sale at Selma last Monday.
The town site of Cahaba, once the cafU
tal of the state and the center of an opu
lent slaveholding aristocracy, was sold to
satisfy taxes. The buyer was Henry
Freeman, an ex-slave, and he paid $550.
On the purchase are a dozen houses, two
or three brick stores among the number
but these will be torn down and the town
lots will be turned into a cotton farm or
“patch,” as it would have been contemptu
ously styled in ante-bellum times.
BEAUTIFUL HOMES.
Situated at the confluence of ths
Cahaba and Alabama rivers, itonce ranked
among the important inland towns of ths
South. In the midst of the famous “black
belt” here the planters, whose thousands
of fertile acres stretched for miles oo
either side of the broad and beautiful
Alabama, built their homes In ths
architecture of the south of that day,
with brood verandas and wide halls and
many windows. The grounds about each
were extensive, as they must have been
to afford room for the quarters of the
numerous servants, the stables and other
outbuildings. The cape jasmine and the
myrtle grew iuto trees in the gardens.
’1 he mock orange and the Cherokee rose
fringed the streets and made fences of
little use.
TALACES THEBE WERE.
Some of the wealthier reared piles of
brick after the fashion of the villas of old
England, and a few others yet whose in
comes were princely dwelt In veritable
palaces of stone and marble, in the midsl
of parks, with winding drives bordered by
semi-tropical flowers, wet with the spray
of flashing fountains. Here lived tha
proudest families in the history of that
day and some of whom are yet powerful
in the affairs of the new era —the Mor
gans, the Craigs,' the Pettuses, the Dawsons
and others of greater or less celebrity.
William L, Yancey's home was ia
Lowndes county, just across the river,
and bis was a familiar figure on ths
streets of the town.
BARONIAL HOSPITALITY.
During the sessions of the legislature
every citizen kept open house. The law
makers came with retinues of servants
and were welcomed with haronial hos
pitality. Beauties of Dixie flocked
thither to dance upon the waxened floors
and gallants in all their bravery to pay
court. Thera were state calls and din
ners and woddings and duels galore. It
might be said that lawmaking was an
incident to the merry-making.
When the capital was removed to Tusca
loosa Cahaba lost prestige at first, but if
she was no longer the political Mecca, she
became still more the nucleus of wealth
and culture. Her trade was of no incon
siderable volume. While the lordly plant
ers disdained to ship their cotton to others
than tho “factors” of Mobile, who in turn
furnished all their yearly supplies, the
fifty and one hundred bale men, thrifty
farmers of tho middle class, bought and
sold in Cahaba. A fleet of palatial steam
ers. second only in appointment, if at all,
to those of the Mississippi, plied the Ala
bama, and the hoarse whistle of a descend
ing boat scarcely died away before the
bluffs around the bend echoed ths
measured puffs of an upward-bound
craft.
DUKINO THE WAR.
Such was Cahaba when the confede
racy was born at Montgomery, a hundred
and odd miles up the river. Though far
removed from the i onfiict, the shadow
fell upon her, too. Her men went; to tha
front and by and by her women wore
black and were red-eyed as they stood
over the handmaidens as they wove tha
homespun or platted the palmetto and
straw.
The southernmost prison of the confed
eracy was established here, a tall, grim
stockade, upon a high bluff, overlooking
the river. Its inmates always, a
goodly number, did not have to endure
the privatious of their comrades at An
dersoiville, but many a boy in blue died
before his exchange came. The battle of
Selma, 10 miles away, was the nearest
that actual war came; a raid by a portion
of Wilson’scavalry and the visit of a fleet
of transports after the fall of Mobile wera
the only occasions when the enemy ia
arms was present.
A REWARD FOR LINCOLN’S HEAD.
All the same, Cahaba figured in a minor
way in tne culminating tragedy of
the assassinattou of Lincoln. A year be
fore Dr. Gayle, an eccentric individual,
had posted placards in all that country,
offering SI,OOO reward “for the head of
one Abe Lincoln.” Immediately after
ths assassination he was arrested and
incarcerated in Fort Warren. The
scaffold or Dry Tortugas seemed inevita
ble ; but his wife, with sublime courage,
hastened to Washington. For six weeks
she sought, amid scenes that were utterly
strange, not to say terrifying, an audienca
with the President. Then Andy Johnson
heard her, pardoned her husband aud she
came home with him.
AN EXPIRING GASP,
The war over, new life was infused into
Cahaba. The empty shelves of the stores
were restocked with fresh and oftentimes
strange goods. Tho bustling yankee
came to buy cotton and traffic with the
natives. A daily paper made it*
appearance and there was money in
pienty to purchase ail that was offered
for sale.
But this prosperity was but the precur
sor of the doom of Caha?;a. Selma, her
rival, had railroads and the river;
Cahaba, the river only. People began to
move to the more favored place. At last,
by popular vote, the county seat was
transierred. A hegira followed. Many of
the costly mansions were torn down to
be re-erected In the successful city.
Others were left to the tonautcy of Ihebst
aud the owl and the shiftless freedman.
Year by year the small remainder or
population was diminished by death and
removal, and now the blow of the auc
tioneer's hammer bus obliterated Cahaba
from the faro of the map. Yet in that
cemetery, given over to the briar and tha
weed, there is dust that is dear to every
Alabamian. The dead town will never M
forgotten.