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The Family Joukxal.—News—Politics—Literature—Agriculture—Domestic Affairs. * GEORGIA TELEGRAPH BUILDTNGr.
hBLISHED 1826.}
MACON, FRIDAY, JULY 24,
imnt^ •
VOL. XLII.—NO. 30. ‘
1.0
! BY GEN. JAS. SHIELDS.
f OF GREAT MEN DESCRIBED—
CjOS, WEBSTER, CLAY AND CAL-
^rEHSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OP
THEIR APPEARANCE, HABITS
fECULIAR CHARACTERISTICS—
C^ST SKETCH OF THE DEFENCE
tattles at neaz Orleans in
r ; \D 1815.
1 v; commence with Andrew Jack-
& was, in my opinion, the most | try.
his manjier wonld become more animated,
his voice more commanding, his gestures
more impressive, but still natural and
conversational, and thus would continue,
growing and swelling and augmenting
until the whole Senate Chamber wonld
seem to;vibrate with his powerful voice,
and thej whole audience would remain
rooted and spell-bound by his overwhelm
ing and majestic eloquence. Such is my
recollection of Daniel Webster, whom I
regard as the greatest intellect and most
impressive speaker of his age and coun-
Able man, take him all in all, of
kstrious group. In personal ap-
rt, he was>*all, spare, slender, and
j,r. There was not an ounce of
2 fiesh on his whole body. He pos-
j more than ordinary physical
-j, but it consisted more in activity
l-junuice, and in prompt, resolute
ness energy, than in what we are
ed to call brute strength. It
jd tbe strength of the giant, hut
,f j high-souled, fearless hero, who
,1 confront a legion of giants, if nec-
T to defend the weak or to succor the
i^ed. He had a lofty, commanding
and a highly intellectual forehead,
the whole soul of Andrew Jackson
visible in his dark grey eye. I never
such an eye in any other human
It was kind and gentle, resolute
intellectual. .It was as tender at
as the ere of a woman; as piercing
ses as the eye of an eagle; and there
times in Andrew Jackson’s life,
. that dark grey eye was as terrible
s eje of the roused lion. No danger,
or physical, could make it quail.
: was a thoroughly honest eye. It
and respected truth and justice,
tea and despised fraud and false-
ind every kind of dishonorable ac-
Andrew Jaqkson was a bom hero,
cry man who approached him had
gnize him as such; that is, as a
rtncd by nature to be the leader of
flow men in any great human emer-
isiel Webster was a man of entirely
cot type. He was not so tall as An-
Jackson, but far more solid, massive
jwerful. He was strong, slow and
liitful, rather than active, resolute
earless. In fact, the whole man
1 to have been cast in a solid, mas-
powerful mould. Everything about
•veil to his manner of walking and
:: indicated power, positive power,
ewer, power which would neither
:.r shun exertion, but which, if
lied into full exertion, might be-
. irresistible. But how shall
cite Isis head ? I have never seen
either head upon a human body—
expect to see such another hu-
iad again.. In size, weight, mag-
t and capacity it was absolutely stu-
and although finely shaped, it
have appeared perfectly enormous,
not had a proportionally powerful
^support it. But the column seem-
tive been made expressly to uphold
magnificent capital. His forehead
ia harmony with the head, large,
4 lofty and massive. The huge
had expanded and pressed it for-
nntil it overshadowded the other
ires of the face. His eyes were large,
i«ad deep set, and filled with a strange
Bering intellectual light. There
i a singular look in that dark, deep
■ It never seemed to look at your
- r features, but at your soul. You
.when it turned upon you, that it was
.’ the gauge of your mind, and
cing your intellectual value as a
i in the sum of humanity. The other
Henry Clay was a man of an entirely
different type. He was a thorough West
ern man; tall and slender, with a frank,
careless^ genial, fearless manner. He had
a large, manly head, and a lofty, intel
lectual forehead. He had fair hair, fair
complexion and blue eyes. His eye was
bright^ frank, open, intellectual and fear
less. It was an eminently practical eye.
It just saw the world as it was, and un
derstood it perfectly, and knew how to
make the best of it on all occasions. The
other features of his face were wanting in
regularity, and might be called remarka
bly plain, but for the glow of generous
feeling and intelligence that overspread
his whole countenance. And when ani
mated in debate, that frank, open, manly
countenance underwent a transfiguration
that made it appear positively handsome
—and the ladies, who ought to he the best
of judges in such cases—esteemed Henry
Clay at all times the most captivating
man of the age.
. But. the principal charm of Henry
Clay was in his incomparable voice. That
marvelous voice was capable of unlimited
modulation, and of expressing with the
highest possible perfection every passion
and emotion of the human soul. When
he rose in his place in the Senate to make
one of those inimitable speeches, which
for the time being swept everything be
fore them, it was interesting to witness
the effect of his voice and manner upon
the audience. Before he had uttered half
a dozen sentences, you would hear a rust
ling of silk dresses, as if a breeze of au
tumn wind had swept through the galler
ies, from the commotion and excitement
among the ladies. And as he proceeded
with his discourse this excitement would
increase and communicate itself to the
whole audience—Senate and all. The ef
fect for the time being would be utterly
irresistible, and is therefore indescribable.
When he raised his powerful voice and
denounced the Democratic administra
tion, you had only to glance up at the
galleries to see rows of bright and beauti
ful eyes flaming with indignation, and
threatening all kinds of destruction to
the universal Democracy. And then
when he changed his tone, and lowered
his voice, and depicted the suffering con
dition of the country, you had hut to look
again to see all those lovely heads droop
ing, the faces pale and wearing a look of
distress, as if they were the principal suf-
.ferers in the general calamity. I cannot
to this day explain the mystery of the
magnetism which that singular man exer
cised upon his audience. But for the
time being it was omnipotent and over
powering. And as his power came from
nature and not from culture, he could ex
ercise it over any audience—over back
woodsmen or statesmen, over fish-women
or fine ladies. He could control and
sway and magnetize them all. Such was
Henry Clay, of Kentucky, the leader of
the grand old Whig party, and the great
est natural orator and popular leader that
has yet appeared in this country.
John C. Calhoun differed widely in
the grand characteristic of Daniel
Iner was not activity or energy, but
w. I mean power, physical and in-
_ many respects from his three great contem-
r -res of his face were well formed, reg-1 poraries whom I have already tided to de-
•' and intellectual, giving an air of j scribe. He was tall, spare and slender,
assure and refinement to his dark and graceful and courtly. In health and
nified countenance. But, in my judg- strength he was delicate rather than fee-
’ ble, for he was lithe, active, nervous and
elastic, capable of wonderful endurance,
ami gifted with extraordinary per^ver-
^ctual. His moral attributes were not ‘ ance. His head, too, was different from
a level with his other great qualities.' the others. It was not broad, flat and
| eTeat defect was self-indulgence, and massive like the Saxon type of head; but
slore it must he conceded that he had j it was high, stately, elegant and classic,
little of the martyr or the true hero t like the highest type of Roman head in
composition. But in transcendent i the age of Augustus. His forehead, too,
ilectual greatness, Daniel Webster, in i was in perfect harmony with his head,
pinion, has had but few equals, eith- Instead of being broad and massive, it
* ■"—'- 1 — * ’—» ** was high and square—not receding like
Clay’s, nor protruding like Webster’s, but
perfectly perpendicular, and as smooth,
compact and solid as if it had been sculp
tured out of pure marble. His dark blue
eye was splendid. It was clear, bright,
keen and penetrating, and intensely in-
_ tellectual. There was a strange, mystical
Wicent compliment from the first : intensity in that dark blue eye. I well
■-man of England to the first intellect remember that it never seemed to look at
ktfriea, and that too, at a time when i you, hut through you and beyond you,
^1 such men as Canning, Brougham • and into distant space, as if trying to pen-
^ Connell for his cotemporaries. I etrate the hidden mysteries of the future,
k thought that Daniel Webster had j In repose it seemed somewhat sad and
pmuck improved by public life. On thoughtful, but when animated in debate
; Mrary, 1 think it lowered him. I it beamed with such intellectual radiance,
g liad to descend from the high- i and burned with such enthusiasm, that
ns of thought to make himself an he became illuminated for a moment
statesman—and he tried hard • with a look of intellectual inspiration,
'ce’nd still further, in order to make The other features of his face were finely
*lf a partizan, but he could not do j formed, regular, intellectual and refined.
He never could descend low enough, j There was not a mean, sordid, sensual
•therefore he presented the spectacle. feature in John C. Calhoun’s whole coun-
1 very great man making a very I tenance. On the contrary, it was pre-em-
t pant politician; for he was beyond j inently spiritual. In fact, I can remem-
. ‘ J AL-* 1 - m TT
a au ancient or in modern times,
■ moment you cast your eyes upon
Srou recognized instinctively this su-
and you would say with Sir Rob-
«d that “ there was more intellectu-
jttitness in Daniel Webster’s mere
(•than in the whole life of any other
p h* had ever known.” This was,
pf sneakiug. Every educated man tion as this, greht Southern statesman,
kfe his speeches. They are the best I Hi3 distinguished characteristic was. in-
■h of Senatorial eloquence inthe Eng-; tellectual enthusiasm. Dis convictions
•language. Bat a man must have were,intense, and he enforced them with
^ them delivered to appreciate them intensity. He saw abstract things as we
'7- And the delivery! It was not an : see faces. He seemed to see with the
l T—certainly hot oratory as we are soul as we see with our eyes, and this
’ vt orned to it. It wes something far 1 gave him that yvonderful power which he
'' er and more difficult than oratory, i exercised over'his followers. It was not
simple, natural, elegant, forcible, : the power of a political leader, but the
. Hal speaking. It was speaking with- • power of a prophet over his disciples, and
Artaud with overwhelming power. : he often reminded me of one of those
the natural outflow of a supera-; half-inspired missionaries of early Chris-
intellect. Webster’s favorite j tian times, who converted others by. the
< when he mhde one of his great r force and intensity of their ovm covictions.
Yraa ^ blue coat and buff vest, ^ .His oratory was suited to his character.
J*you all know was the uniform’ of -He stood holt upright. He never chang-
Hevolution. He would .commence, ed his position or attitude while speaking.
' bourse in a calm, quiet, natural His words rushed out in short sentences,
Y er J like a man in earnest conveysa- every sentence a proposition, and the
'' ‘Vs he proceeded with his discourse, whol&;& master-piece of invincible logic.
He was so intensely in earnest that he had
no time for ornament. And his reasoning
at such times had almost the precision of
mathematics. He never gave you "histo
ry, or learning or study, but he gave you
results, and if you could not understand
him he had no time to teach you. The
one-lialf of us did- not understand him,
and therefore we avenged ourselves by
calling him “an abstractionist” I am
not sure hut he saw signs in the heavens
which none of us could see, and we only
called him a visionary when he tried to
point them out to us. I think the only
man in the Senate who understood him,
thoroughly at times, was Daniel Webster,
and it seemed to me that the men who
understood one another best in that body
were the great Northern statesman, Daniel
Webster, and the great Southern states
man, John C. Calhoun.
Andrew Jackson and John C. Calhoun
were of Irish descent. Daniel Webster
was unmistakably of Saxon origin, and I
always took Henry Clay to be of mixed
descent,andthesefour distinguished Amer
icans may be taken as admirable repre
sentatives of this great new people—a
people who have the future destiny of
this new world in their, hands, if they
only prove true to themselves, to their in
stitutions and their country.
I wish I. had time to illustrate their
characteristics by historic incidents and
personal reminiscences, but the limits of
this discourse will not admit of it.
I will give you a few particulars of
General Jackson, which I get from his fa
vorite aid-de-camp, Gen. William O. But
ler, of Kentucky, and then conclude.
The massacre of Fort Moins, as yqu all
know, called him into military service to
put down the Indians, and he did so ef
fectually. He fell upon them like a
thunderbolt. He struck them down in
their strongholds, and the Indian power
in the Mississippi Valley was lost forever.
The Indian war at aii end a British ex
pedition appeared on the Gulf of Mexico,
the most formidable hostile expedition
that had ever approached this continent,
and it became evident to all that the ob
ject of attack was the city of New Or
leans; and unfortunately, New Orleans
at that moment was more utterly defence
less than any other point in the United
States. Gen. Jackson was ordered to
New Orleans, and he arrived in that city
on the evening of the 1st of December,
1814, and took up his quarters at the
house of one of his old friends, named
Clarke. The next day the authorities of
the city, with the Mayor at their head,
called upon him at his quarters. One of
the most eloquent men of the day wel
comed him in an able address. He took oc
casion in his remarks to point out the de
fenceless condition of the city. He stated
what was too true, that it had no troops,
no arms, no munitions of war. and no de
fensive works. He then dwelt upon the
formidable character of the expedition
coming against it, and the horrors that
would ensue to life and property, and
what men value more than life, if the city
should be carried by assault, and given
up to the license of a brutal soldiery.
Having done all this with the most con-
sumate tact, he hinted delicately that to
escape these horrors there was but one al
ternative—an arrangement with the ene
my for the surrender of the city.
During the delivery of this address,
Gen. Jackson stood bolt upright, as mo
tionless as a bronze statue. Not a muscle
of his cast-iron face was seen to move, or
to betray the feeling with which he was
animated. There he stood in his well
worn grey overcoat, and his high military
boots, looking the very impersonation of
inflexibility and fearlessness. All were
now anxiously awaiting his reply. The
reply came, the bronse lips opened, and
out came these words, pronounced in the
firmness of unflinching resolution:
“Gentlemen, the British army shall
never enter New Orleans. "We must pre
pare to fight.”
“ But if we fail, General,” said one of
the authorities, “what then?”
“Fail!” exclaimed Jackson, as if scorn
ing the very word, “ Why, if we fail we’ll
burn down the city. Good morning, gen
tlemen,” dismissing the municipals with
a polite bow, and turning to give some
orders to his officers. .. ." .•
In all modern history there is not a
single scene more interesting and roman
tic than this interview. Considering the
circumstances, the approach of a powerful
enemy and the defenceless condition“of
the city, the conduct of Andrew Jackson
on that occasion was not only heroic, but
aublimq.
In' all my reading I find nothing to
compare with the superhuman and syste
matic energy put forth by this extraor
dinary man within the next twenty days.
He transformed the city into a camp—
old men and young men, women and
hoys, were included in that compact and
perfect military organization. The old
men to guard the city, the hospitals and
depots; the young to enter the ranks and
prepare for 'battle; the boys to prepare,
amunition, to put arms in order, and even
to load and fire if necessary; and the wo
men of all ranks to prepare clothing, hos
pital stores, and the innumerable supplies
which are heeded by an army in the field.
Runnera scoured the country for hundreds
of miles, collecting ammunition and arms
of every description, and hurrying them
to New Orleans. Rifles, shot-guns, Revo
lutionary muskets, were repaired and put
in order by skillful workmen, and Ameri
cans are all skillful in an emergency. A
few hundred of Jacksons old compan
ions soon arrived, giving hope and confi
dence to the citizens. And such was
the spirit which one indomitable soul had,
infused into that people in a few days, that
on the 22d day of December the full
grown man who would - talk of surrender
would stand a good chance of being tar*
red and. feathered} On the 23d of.De;
cember, while the tired General was rest*
ing on a sofa, a young Frenchman rushed
in breathless, exclaiming that the British
were on his father’s farm, nine miles from
the city. Jackson sent for his principal
officers, and they were as brave men as
eve* lived, but the nearness of the enemy
took them, by surprise. Not so Jackson.
Nothing took him bj surprise, because
nothing shook his fearless soul.. “Gen
tlemen,” said Jackson, “we will fight
them to-night. Make your commands
ready.” Welly he-fought them that
flight,' and it is one of the most remark
able night battles in history; and that
night battle saved the city of New Orleans.
Remember that it takes the highest disci
pline to bring even brave men to fight, a
gallant battle at night. . Well, these
British were the best .disciplined troops
of the age. They had made Napoleon’s
veterans turn their backs on many a
well-fought field; and the men that Jack-
son led had never seen a regular soldier,
and had never fought a regular battle.
When you remember all this, you can
appreciate the surpassing heroism of that
achievement. But what I admire most
is the consumate skill with : which he
managed his troops in that perilous
action.
Years after the fight I examined the
whole ground with one of the most intel
ligent officers of Jackson’s army, and I
will give the particulars as I received
them from him. The British were en
camped on Vellere's farm. They had
the Mississippi on their left, , and the fa
mous cypress swamp on their, right, and
an open plain in front, extending to New
Orleans, into which city they intended
marching next morning. Under cover of
* the night Jackson sent his best riflemen
'into the cypress swamp,.with orders to
take their position within point blank
range of the British camp, and await the
signal to fire. He next placed a single
line of marksmen for several hundred
yards in the same swamp, in the direc
tion of New Orleans, and another line
along the Mississippi River, under cover
of the natural embankment; and then
he placed the worst of his troops—the
raw and undisciplined militia—in the
front and center. At*the round of a sig
nal gun, a fire hurst in all directions
upon the British camp. Had it burst
upon them from the clouds, they couldn’t
have been more astonished. But they
were brave troops and well disciplined,
I and so they formed rapidly and rushed
' against the nearest and most deadly fire
which came from the cypress swamp.
Not knowing the ground, they were soon
up to their waists in water, and falling
under the fire, of an invisible enemy.
They fell hack, hastily re-formed their
ranks, and made a rush upon the center.
The center gave way, of course, as Jack-
son expected, and the British dashed af
ter them. But, before thev advanced
two hundred yards, a terrible fire fell
upon them from the swamp and from the
river bank, and they found, both their
flanks assailed by an invisible enemy.
Thinking the retreat a feint to entice
them into a trap, they fell hack hastily.
The moment the British began to retreat,
the militia came down upon them like a
thunder cloud, for raw militia are ter
rible as death upon anything that, runs
awav from them. And to this day if any
of tfiem are still alive, they think they
saved that field.. Sufficient to say, that
the result of that battle paralized the
British, so that instead of entering New
Orleans next morning, they commenced
intrenching, and sending back for rein
forcements. Jackson fell back before
morning, so as to conceal the smallness of
his force from the enemy, and then com
menced throwing up that embankmentand
those defenses that have become so famous
in American history. Everyone is fa
miliar with the battle of the 8th of Jan
uary, 1815; and I will conclude by re
marking that, considering the number and
quality of the respective forces, it is the
most remarkable engagement, in military
annals. The bravest soldiers of Europe
were defeated by a handful of backwoods
men. The British were two to one, and
yet they were repulsed with slaughter.
The Americans in all were not over six
thousand. The British were at least
twelve thousand. The engagement did
not last an hour. The British fled, leav
ing fifteen hundred men behind, killed,
wounded and prisoners, and the Ameri
cans only lost nine killed, and thirteen
wounded. Comment is unnecessary. It
stands alone in military annals, and leaves
Andrew Jackson’s name immortal as a
military chieftan. ' • .
The Death of Cromwell.
A-t the Royal Palace of Whitehall, on
the 3d of September, 1658, a man lay dy
ing. Eight days before he felt so confi
dent of life that he told his wife not to
think he should die, as he felt sure of the
contrary. Now he was speechless, sink
ing; and the last thing about which he had
seriously troubled himself was a curious
metaphysical one. “Tell me,” he said to
Sterry, a minister who stood by him, “is
it possible to fall from grace?” “It is
not possible,” said the minister. “Then,”
exclaimed the dying man, “I am safe; for
I know that I was once in grace.” Then
he prayed, “Lord, though a miserable and
and .wretched creature, 1 am in covenant
with Thee, through Thy grace, and may
and will come to Thee for Thy people.—
Thouffiast made me amean instrument to
do them some good, and Thee service.—
Many of them set too high a value upon
me, though others would be glad of my
death. Lord, however Thou disposethof
me, continue and go on to do good for
them. Teach those who look too inuch
upon Thy instruments to depend more
upon Thyself, and ■ pardon such as desire
to trsmple upon the dust of a poor worm,
for they are Thy people too.” The atten
tion of all England was riveted on the sick
room at Whitehall with,keen aij.d sincere
interest. From the lips of many went
forth earnest prayers that God. would be
pleased to spare the-invalid’s life; in, . the
hearts of many there were fears and mis
givings as to what would come in the
event of that prayer being rejected. In
other hearts there were joy ana exultation
over the death of a sinner, while in others
that should have ' been kindly disposed,
there was a certain sort of assurance that
there is something in the misfortunes of
our greatest friends which is not displeas-
j yig to us. • A frightful wind storm raged,
rooting up trees in the park, and tearing
off the roofs of the houses in London. The
friends of the dying argued that God was
giving warning of his intention to take to
himself the great soul of the sufferer.—
His enemies argued that “the princes of
the powers of the air” were holding fear
ful revels amid the storm-driven clouds
in honor of the prospect of seizing on the
great offender’s soul. The dying man was
Oliver Cromwell, Lord Protector of Eng
land and Ireland, the man who for. ten
years had governed the kingdom in a
right kingly way, and made it stronger
and more respected by all foreign powers
than it had been since the days of Henry
Y. and Agincourt; the man who had sub
verted the subverters of the monarchy,
and had yet annihilated monarcy itself in
the person of his own king, by bringing
him to a public execution; the man who
had overcome all rivals, punished all re
bels against his own authority, and seated
himself firmly on the throne of kings (hav
ing been originally hut a country gentle
man), though he had refused, and refused
resolutely, the name and emblems of roy
alty.—Cassell’s New Popular Educator.
The Radical Torture of Witnesses
at Fort Pulaski!
AFFADAVIT OF ONE OF THE VICTIMS
She Spanish Inquisition Revived by
the Radicals in America!
Radical I,ove for tne Negro Illustrated!
AX IXXOCEXT XEGBO TORTURED THIRTY-
THREE HOURS!
From the Sun and Time*.]
JOHN STAPLER’S AFFIDAVIT.
Muscogee County, State of Georgia.
John Stapler being duly sworn, says,
on the 14th of May, 1868, he was driving
a wagon in the peaceful pursuit of his
business, when a United States soldier
came up to him and seized him, leaving
his wagon and horses in the street with
out anybody in charge but a boy, whom
he (Stapler) induced to mind them while
he was under arrest. He was then taken
to the military guard house in Columbus,
detained there about one hour, afld then
carried under guard to the Muscogee
Depot, and taken thence to Savannah, in
company with John "Wells, James Bar
ber and Wade Stevens. Remained at
Savannah in the guard house about an
hour and a half. We were taken thence
to the steamer and carried to Fort Pu
laski, and after some delay we were car
ried in, one at a time. Deponent was
carried to a cell and there confined. Af
ter being in the cell about an hour and a
half, Whitley, a Government detective
(the same man who has since frequently
visited us at McPherson Barracks, Atlan
ta,) and Captain Cook, who commands at
Fort Pulaski, came to the cell and un
locked it, and made deponent come to the
door, when Captain Cook directed his or
derly to search thoroughly the person and
pockets of the deponent. Whitley and
Capt. Cook then spoke together, and
Captain Cook ordered the barber sent for
to shave deponent’s head in one hour!
Deponent was then put hack in cell. In
about an hour he was brought out and
blindfolded, carried down into a room,
seated in a chair, and the bandage taken
from his eyes. Then he was ^ asked by
Whitley “if he ever was discoursed by a
minister before he was put through,” and
he said he had an order from General
Meade to “put him through,” and then
asked Captain Cook to allow him a little
while before he put deponent through, to
which Captain Cook replied he would
not do it. ■ Whitley insisted, and at last
Capt. Cook consented to give Whitley fif
teen minutes by his watch “to put de
ponent through.”
When the bandage was taken from de
ponent’s eyes, he saw. a soldier standing
near a brass cannon, with a string from
the cannon to his hand, and wherever
deponent turned the cannon was ranged
upon him. Deponent’s head was then
lathered with two scrubbing brushes, and
there were two or three razors lying on
the table; deponent was made to stand
up and be measured against the wall;
during this time he was asked by Whit
ley if he knew, or had ever heard the peo
ple say, anything about the Ashbum
murder. He said Tie did not know any
thing, and had not heard anything about
it. Whitlev replied, “You need not tell
me a lie"; the rebels have been posting
you, but it is no use.”
Whitley then gave deponent till the
next day to consult and study and see if
it would not bring some good. Deponent
was then put hack in his cell and there
remained in solitary confinement, never
seeing Whitley again for four or five days,
when he came there, took him out, of his
cell, carried him to another part of the
Fort, and showed “the sweat box,” and
told him if he didn’t lip and tell" all he
knowed about it, he would put deponent
in that sweat box and keep him there
thirty days. Deponent told him he
didn’t know nothing, and couldn’t tell
anything without it was a lie; but he must
tell him all he knew I He then put ? de
ponent in the sweat box, which is a closet
in the walls of the Fort, q little wider
than deponent’s body, the door closes
within three or four inches of his breast,
the only air admitted is through a few
auger holes in the door. He was left in
this condition under the belief that he
was to remain there thirty days, unlesshe
told about the Ashbum murder. He re
mained in this position about thirty-three
hours, when Mr. Reed and Captain Cook
came and, took him out. • Whitley came
up> and said he allowed .they, had taken
deponent out too soon, and he would have
deponent bade.unless he told what he
knew. "When deponent was taken out
his limbs were swollen and painful,'and
to this day suffers from the confinement.
He was then turned loose and allowed to
Walk about the Fort, where he reinained
"Until the 9th' of June; he was then put un
der guard and carried to Atlanta. Dur
ing all this thne* he was strictly forbidden
to talk to anyone. About pLOth of June
he was put in McPherson Barracks, where j
he was vjery well, treated, expept that hfe
was under orders not to talk to anyone
without permission. On Saturday, the
11th July, in the afternoon, Whitley camo
to deponent and other colored persons who
had been detained in prison, and told us
togotoMaj.Smythe’s office. When he got
there Maj. Smythe gave him an order for
$146, which he supposed was for witness
fees and transportation. Deponent fur
ther says that he was never used as a wit
ness, and never knew anything to witness
about. Deponent further says that Stevens
and Barber both knew that he had been
put in the sweat box, and how he had
been treated.
his
John ^Stapler.
mark.
Sworn to and subscribed before me,
13th July, 1868. John. King.
Notary Public.
GREAT MEAT FOR THE PEOPLE.
It is gratifying to leam that Professor
Gamgee’s method of curing meat is meet
ing with increased favor in this country.
It has been demonstrated beyond a doubt
to our butchers, many of whom have wit
nessed the process, that the plan which
he has invented of pAserving sweet and
fresh, all kinds of flesh and fowl, is a per
fect success, and as soon as the butchers
of the distant West, Texas California, and
even. South America, can avail themselves
of the process, we may expect to have our
meat offered for 6ale in the public mar
kets at greatly reduced prices. The ne
cessity for driving large herds of cattle to
this city or its neighborhood for the pur
pose of being slaughtered, will soon cease
to exist, and the intolerable nuisances of
slaughter-houses, cattle in the streets,
soap-boiling establishments, etc,, will be
done away with. This of itself is a bles
sing for which we should all be thankful
to Prof. Gamgee. There is now nothing
to hinder all the fiesh and foul brought
to this city being killed in the country,
where it lives, and it can be transported
without the intervention of refrigerator
or any other contrivance beyond
that which is already in ordinary usb.
We trust the day is near at hand when
the poorest family will be able to enjoy
its roast mutton or beef, and when we
shall have heard the last of sick, over
driven, fever-heated cattle, coming to this
city by the thousands to be killed.
The process by which this meat is cured
is patented in this country, and con
sists in causing the animal to inhale car
bonic oxide gas until it loses conscious
ness, when it is killed and bled. The
carcass is then quickly dressed, and while
still warm, exposed a short time in a
chamber to an atmosphere of the same
gas, mingled with a little sulphurous acid
gas. These gases,, especially the former,
combine with all the oxygen of the sys
tem, and take away all that enter the
meat through the absorption of air. Ex
periments will soon be made of transport-
ing_ “Gamgeed” beef and mutton from
some of our Western States, and from
Texas. These experiments or tests are
taken in hand with great zeal by several
gentlemen of large means and entire re-
spossibility, so that we may hope for
speedy and accurate results.
minous. E vervthing gloomy passed away
and left us as lazy and devif-me-care aa
lotus eaters. We were destined, however, L '
to have the dream's rudely broken upon; v
for just as we were congratulating our
selves upon a total indifference as to what
the Tammany Hall wiseacres did for tLi ■
country or for themselves, our primitive
keepers reappeared and, armed with hose
and pipe, gave us a modest notion of how
a house on fire feds when Georgia’s big
engine insists on quenching conflagration. .■»
Having played fireman to their heart’s
content, our keepers led us to the pool
and ordered us to dive in’. Bacon, as I ‘
told you, wanted to argue the point, but
before he had quite concluded his fifth
objection, it was strangled in the hot wa
ter. Seeing that the keepers were not •
open to conviction, I Bhut my mouth and
took the leap. The water was cool and
the sensation splendid. After a short
swim, we took a brief sweat. Then the
pipemen commenced putting us out. y.
The door opened with a'.quick snap/and ’
we were consigned to gents who bade us
lay down on sofas and receive the finish*
ing touches. Having been thoroughly
dried, we had to imagine ourselves pieces
of dough, for we were kneaded in a fash
ion that only professional bu" -s thor- .
oughly understand. Here the similo
must end, for no true baker would knead
dough after it had been through the oveD.
Assuming the garbs of civilization, ive re
posed for‘half an hour on gorgeous di
vans. Then we sought the street, feeling
what Xerxes would have given a king- - ;
dom for—a new pleasure. We did not
seem glued to the sluggish earth, but •
rather with Aquarius “walked the fence
less fields of-air.*” .
\
Remarkable Discovery of a ^French
Count, who Counts his Riches by
Millions.
There has been one emotion in Paris
during the last few days, created bv the
sudden re-appearance in' the world of
Paris of the Vicomte de , one of the
The Editor of the Constitutionalist
• Washed.
The process seems to have been attend
ed with a surprising amount of difficulty.
He describes it in a New York letter as
follows:
RUSSIAN BATHS.
Our Georgia boys were among the very
first to discover novelties and seemed es
pecially delighted with the Russian baths.
I Avas persuaded to try the experiment by
an Augusta boy Avhose ordinary complex
ion, Avhen at home, is of a mild pumpkin
color. It had suddenly assumed the rose
of health, and this transformation he at
tributed to the Russian hath. Not caring
to go alone, I conArinced Bacon, of the
Edgefield Advertiser, that the Cossacks
had discovered the philosopher’s stone,
and so, induced him to accompany his
brother craftsman. Let me give you a
faint description of what may he called a
gigantic sweat.
After certain necessary preliminaries,
two muscular subjects of the Czar, array
ed in their birth-day suits, grasped us by
the shoulders and pushed on to the
main apartment. The door leading to
this opened with a quick snap, just such a
snap as the door of Herr Lengel’s lion
cage. Presto! and we were thrust into a
room more like a mausoleum than any
thing else. Marble slabs and tombs were
piled up in true church-yard architecture.
Upon them certain corpse-like individuals
were stretched, whose kinship with breath
ing humanity was only certified by
periodical remarks proving that they had
not yet entered heaven, and, anon, by
peals of merriment very different from the
guffaws of Satan’s profound domain. At
one end of this apartment a large, black
pool was coiledasasmake—so snake-like,
indeed, that Bacon had to be pushed
down by the keeper, unaware; for, of his
own volition, he would not plunge into
the unknown. A dense vapor hung about
the room festooning it with : misty cob
webs and almost stifling thes atmostphere.
The ceiling.and walls were, in an agony
of perspiration. From the great jwarts
that stood out from their polished-surface
we knew of their suffering, and if walls
had mouths,- as all know" they have ears}
a tremendous plaster-cast yell would have
relieved them immediately.
As it Avas, they made no sign save, ev
ery now and then dropping hot team on
Bacon’s nose or mine, as Ave lay like sol
diers taking our rest with navy cloaks
around us. With'wet sponges under our
heads, statue-like we reposed on our pi
loted tombstones, while the sweating pro 1
cess went on After the manner of distiller
ies. Very soon a delicious languor stole
over our drowsy indolence and, if upright,
instead of recumbent, the puniest baby
niight have prostrated us with a stick of
candy. As the cloging humors of. the
body escaped through toe emunctories of
the skin, the mind became alert and lo-
quondam favorites, AvKoJhad left the city
in. the greatest', condemnation and dis
grace some seven years ago, and avJio re
turns, bronzed and hardened both in mind
and person, to resume the place among
his friends, which not they but he de
clared he had forfeited by his own im
prudence f&d folly. ’ ’ ' * '
By the kindness of a relative he was
enabled to steam away for New Granada,
where he had been able to obtain’ a situ- ■
ation as a clerk to the engineer just thto
employed in the construction of a line of
railway through the country. In this
position he fulfilled his small duties with-
the utmost perfect, exactitude for more
than three years, and at the end of that
time, the railway being .terminated, was
ordered to anotner duty in a different
part of the country: The way was over
the steepest mountains. He had already
got through the greater part of his jour
ney, when one day, overcome by the
heat, he lay himself down by the side of
a running stream, which refreshed him
both by sight and sound, and fell to
musing on tne hard fate which had torn :
him from his relatives and friends to wan-,
der. thus a lonely exile.in a foreign land,
when his attention was .suddenly called
from these high flights to a circumstance
which was taking place immediately be
neath his eye, and which had escaped
him while gazing on;the heavens, y. 4
The phenomenon was this: close to
where his head was Ty ing amid the . grass .
and flowers, the running water formed an
eddy, Avhich, after running in a tiny
whirlpool, proceeded to fall into afnarrow
aperture, whence, on examination, he-be*'
held no issue. His curiosity was aroused,
and he raised himself up to gaze down
into the hollow, the sides of which he'
found to consist of -two blocks of stone,-
so worn down and polished by the con
tinued rush of the current that he could
see to the very bottom.- The sight he
there beheld made him stagger and "fall
hack almost without consciousness upon
the grass. In that single hollow had fil
tered for centuries the gold sand carried
by the current from the bed of the fiver
some miles higher up, where gold’wash
ing has been carried on for many gener
ations. WWj
There lay before him one glittering pile
of the precious ore, gleaming at the bot
tom of the limpid water, and demanding
only a strong hand and resolute will, both
of which he possessed, to draw it to the
surface. Needless to say, he retraced his
steps to the place whence he had departed,
and soon returned, bringing back men
and machinery, and as he says,whentell
ing the wondrous tale, “ You may believe •
me if yon choose, but in less than three
weeks I had become the richest man in
the whole republic.” "What bears out the
assertion is the purchase he has just made
of one of the mansions at the Barriere de
l’Etoile, and the splendid style in which
he has mounted his establishment.' ■idrvi
Tbe Political Field.
The intelligent Washington correspondent
of the Charleston Courier writes M follows:
Pennsylvania politicians offered her®, yes
terday, large bets in favor of the Seymour
and Blair ticket'in that State, and found uo
takers. The battle is hardly joined yet: The
parties h&yo been surimiobcd to tlie field, rdu
we shall after awhile be better able to judge
of their relative strength and .powers. Tbe
Radicals claim Ohio and. intend to makau
the chief battle ground.
But in all the estimates which the mote
cautious, JCJemocrats make of the result, Ohio
is put down as doubtful, and Seymour is
showa to be the winnixig candidato without
doubt. Seymour bat a pretty sure eb&uce of
a majority of nine electoral votes, even it this
revolutionary Congress should dare to throw
out the twenty-five electoral votes which will
be cast for him by the States of- Virgin&,
Texas and Mississippi. Neither Indiana ner
Maine havobeen, included in the estimate of
Seymour’s strength, but there qrq good reas
ons to expect for him (he support of thfes
States. v 4»-» v.*;:
The New York correspondent of tbe sana*
paper says prospects are bright
brightening, and the Radicals are getting
Very much- sjCTjnsfl at toe totf 1 abeeuye of
popular enthusiasm for the Grant nomination.
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