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The Greorgia "Weekly
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THE TELEGRAPH.
MACON FRIDAY NOVEMBER «, 1868.
*HK FRIENDS OF THK BLACKS.
Let him who would have friends show
himself friendly, is the scriptural proposition
sod unquestionably the only road open to
the Southern blacks to the friendship of the
- whites and to prosperity and comfort, is the
plain one of a useful, industrious and firiendly
life among us. All those schemes which
they are instigated to by Radical politicians,
st home and abroad, to wbrk oat a future in
hostility to the whites of the Booth, will
certainly end in miserable disappointment.
The white people of the South among
whom these negroes have been born and
resred, are well inclined to the blacks from
long association and habit. The professed
affection of these Northern adventurers;
wherein, it is not a mere pretence in order to
profit by the votes of the negroes, is ahollow
sentimentalism which does not wear. When
ever they shall find the blacks in opposition
to, or In want of correspondence with any of
their pet ideas, they will turn upon them
with an intolerant dislike and repugnance
exactly corresponding to the fierce manifes
tations of their unreasonable partiality.
We want the negroes to mark our predic
tion that a few years will find these Northern
friends of theirs’ (so-called,) among the most
intolerant of their enemies. Its an old story.
History constantly repeats itself. The
“Friends of the Blacks” was a title the Moun
tain party of France took to themselves, and
■bowed their friendship afterwards with can
non, sabre and musket.
The Northern political friends of the Soutb-
, ero blacks are certainly destined in a short
time to be their political enemies. The fiercest
and most powerful advocates of universal
black suffrage now will, by an inevitable law,
soon become its uncompromising foes. The
sentimentalists will all forsake them.
Helper, the man who first raised the stan
dard of free soil and abolitionism in the South
is'now avowedly pursuing the Southern free
blacks in his books to extermination. He
says he freed them and will now drive them
ont of America. His “Nojoque”’ and “The
Negro in Negro-land” are written to show
that the negro is no fit ingredient in white
civilization and must be driven out of the
country.
We hear from Florida that Mrs. Beecher
Stowe, the authoress of Uncle Tom’s Cabin,
who, a year or two ago, bought a place on
the St. John’s River, near Jacksonville, says
she wants to live long enough to write an
other book to correct the mistakes of “Uncle
Tom,” and show that the negro is fit only for
slavery, and a great blunder was committed
when slavery was abolished. From her orig
inal condition of sentimental attachment to
the negro, she has lapsed into a state of un
conquerable dislike and aversion. She will
not have them about her, either in doors or
ont. She turned them all off her place, and
allows no one with a black skin to approach
her. Wc are told that an acquaintance of
ours sought to send her a message by a black
stewardess ou board a steamboat, but she re
fused to allow the negro to approach her.
Her mind, as we have been credibly informed,
■"cry much inflamed against the negro; and
■>robably, from comparing their efficiency
'tude as laborers and servants with
Northern whites. Her fnnev pic-
'-ican has been spoiled, and her
s. tion has turned, in conse-
aversion. Like Sqneers,
mpathy in her bosom
1 whey.
member what w’te
nly chance for
md happy
"'outhern
' any
•!e
que.
the m.
has all tn.
Let the So.
tell them in ah
them to maintain
existence is to harmc
whites. No poor white.
country aud array himselt.
and reasonably expect to pro.,
make friends. Why should you ex,
an exception to this rule ? Why st.
expect, as noisy Radical politicians, 1*.
yourselves to the ignominious business oi
posing stragglers and adventurers as offices
over the white people—or putting men of
jour own color in office, who you know are
unfit for it—why should you expect to pros
per in the communities which you thus wil
fully wrong and outrage ?
You never can do it You must showyour-
selves friendly to the whites who carry on the
business of the country. Let politics alone.
They will do you no good. Strive to acquire a
good character as industrious, sober, reliable
men and women and you are certain of a com
fortable and improving condition. Yon will
always bare kind and useful friends, while the
noisy Radicals about you will look in vain
for them either North or South.
A BOBBY PANIC.
Among the latest novelties they have ac-
CnaUy a so-called “money-panic,” in New
York, effected by a few industrious and en
terprising capitalists who have succeeded in
producing a strictly artificial scarcity by
locking np several millions at a time when
money is in eager request to move the crops
of the country. The design is probably a
heavy speculation in produce and stocks, and
we probably see one of its results in the fail
ure of any or a very reluctant response by the
New York cotton market to movements in
Liverpool.
This state of affairs illustrates the vicious
tendencies of the partial and unequal distri
bution of banking capital under the national
banking system. It is remorselessly piled up
In New York and the Eastern States,
and' puts the club of Hercules in the
hands of the great business cities to smite
the extremities. Their power, under the
beat banking system, would be great, bnt is
vastly increased nnder the present one, which
awards them from four to eight times more
than their share of the National Banks. Tbe
nqjust advantage thus obtained and.its dis
astrous effects npon the agricultural regions
arc strongly pointed out in the late speeches
of(Jov. Seymour in the West, and this so-
called “money panic” aptly illustrates and
enforces his speeches. Let the Southern
former strive for a condition in . which he can
hold his crops, if necessary, and he will then
be ' independent of the operations of the
money kings.
——— The Putnam County Fatw— —
Eatonton, October 28th, 1868.
Editori Telegraph: In your notice of the
Putnam County Fair yon say “Col. H. D. pa
pers, SecretaryJ was presented a fine silver
cop for his energy in tbe matter.” (The ital
ics are mine.) Now I, together with all tbe
officers, the Executive Committee and the
members of the club, am perfectly willing
for Col. Capers to have all the praise that he
so richly deserves; but then he could not
have been everything—he conld not he
Chairman of the Executive Committee,Corres-
ponding Secretary and Secretary. Some of
the rest of us, officers, committee-men and
all, worked to the utmost extent of our abil
ity in the matter—and, to come to the point
at once, your subscriber is the Secretary of the
Club—has been for the last six months
(though Col. C. is Corresponding Secretary)
and had, perhaps, as unpleasant and hard
working a berth during fair week as any
member of the Club. ADy one acquainted
with fairs knows what work belongs to the
office of Recording and Entering Secretary—
tied to a desk night and day, without being
allowed to see anything of the fair.
Tbe truth is, Messrs. Editors, we all worked
very hard to get up the fair, and we are un
willing that any one should have too much
credit given him, while perfectly williug that
every one should receive his full share of
praise, and I can venture to say, without ask
ing Col. C., that he agrees with me.
A word more: you say, very truly, that we
design making our fair a permanency. The
difficulties under which we labored this year
were such as can scarcely be conceived of by
outsiders, and I will not even attempt to
enumerate them: but say this, that they all
resulted in fair week finding us unprepared,
though we pushed on through thick and thin
and accomplished what you saw. Our rules
and regulations, which should have been pub
lished months ago, were finally printed only
two days before the opening of the exhibi
tion. Thus people had scarcely any oppor
tunity of learning their requirements. Be
sides, we found that some of them failed to
work well, and so they became a dead letter.
On these accounts, some disputes occurred aDd
some unpleasant feeling was engendered. I
take this occasion to say, for the whole club,
that this thing is very much regretted. We
entreat people to recollect that under the cir
cumstances mistakes were absolutely unavoid
able.
Next year a premium lilt will be published
before planting time, so that every one may
become familiar with them. I have written
to some of the best conducted Fair Associa
tions in Kentucky for copies of everything
that can give us information, and we will
take time, prepare our programme carefully
and then adhere to it. The system of entran
ces and also of judging—in short everything
will be thoroughly digested, and we hope to
have an immense success. Very respectfully,
your obedient servant, W. W. Turner,
Sec. Put. Co. Ag. Club.
A MODERN BORGIA.
A SERVANT POISONS HER EMPLOYER’S FAMILY.
THE ENTIRE FAMILY DESTROYED.
From the Albany (iV. Y.) Nexct.
We have to record a most fiendish, and,
from tbe circumstances attending it, deliber
ately planned murder, by which a whole
family were destroyed.
Mr. C. Roach, his wife, and five children,
are the victims. They had lately moved into
the western part of the city. On Monday
afternoon they were in usual health, and
yesterday morning they were cold in death,
the usual signs of life not being apparent to
tbe neighbors yesterday morning. Suspicion
was aroused that all was not right, and at 12
m. the house was broken open—it was a
tomb. In the dining room in tbe basement
was found Mr. and Sirs. Roach and their two
other cbihlrcD, and in the bath-room tbe
eldest daughter. Life was not extinct, but
she was too near death to articulate, aDd
died in a very few moments after she was first
discovered. The corpses are blackened and
swollen, the features convulsed, and the
limbs drawn up as if they died suffering great
'in.
igpicion points to the servant girl as the
-ess, as she has been frequently beard
nn the life of Mrs. Roach, saying she
-s of the kitchen and would not be
\ Several times last week she
’ren from the kitchen aDd on
oted to scald Miss R., who
ring out of doors; bat,
it and attended to all
discharged, and it
'S her dislike to
only
as she .
her dutie
was hoped .
the family mighu
They were too tru».
suit. The poison used is
green mingled with the food o.
large quantities of it were found u.
tries. The girl is still at large.
THE LATE HOWELl COBB.
A Conversation with Him Prior to His
Death—Hi* View* on the Political Sitnn*
tlon—No Hope for the Election of geymour
—The Revolution to Reach Its Climax—An
Independent South in the Future—His
Opinions of Joseph K. Brown and James
Gordon Bennett.
Summary Execution of Four Des
peradoes.
Correspondence of the St. Louis Republican.]
Laramie, Wyoming Territory, October 10.—
The terrible doings of last night aud this
morning may be of interest to your readers.
Last night about half past ten o’clock, the
honest portion of the citizens of Laramie
were aroused by a terrific firing in the direc
tion of the “Belle of the West,” a low dance-
house on Front street. Soon the town was
in a terrible state of excitement, and it was
soon known that the vigilanters were ont in
full force. They first visited the above dance-
housc, where they found Asa Moore, who
drew his revolverand was about to fire, when
he was immediately shot down. They then
arrested Con. Wagor, who has been harbor
ing thieves and garroters, and dividing the
spoils with them. These two were taken out
and immediately hung.
The next victim was a man they called
“ Big Ned,” a noted thief and garoter. He
was taken over, and soon bore the others
company, dangling in the air. The vigilants
then divided themselves in squads, and
scoured the town for other victims, butmost
of them had left town. They found some few
of less notoriety, and gave them notice to
leave the town in so many hours. They all
took the hint, with the exception of a hard-
headed garoter, named Steve Young, alias
“Big Steve,” who defied them to do their
worst. This morning he was arrested, and in
a few moments was dangling to a telegraph
pole.
For the past three months these fellows
have been a terror to Laramie, seldom a night
passing bnt some poor fellow was robbed of
his hard earnings, until men were afraid to
enter the town. The work of last night and
to-day, it is supposed, will drive out all these
thieves and desperadoes, and make Laramie
a quiet place.
During the first fighting, two railroad men,
names unknown, and a fiddler named Charles
Barton, were shot, the latter fatally.
Alabama Apples.—The Montgomery Mail
of 'Wednesday says:.
t Onr market is abundantly supplied with
apples, and some of them as fine as any other
Southern market con produce. On every
corner you can find them for sale, and on
Court street by the bushel, barrel or wagon
load.
The best apples we have are from Robin-
sou county, and for size and flavor cannot be
exqeiled by tbe New Jersey production of
thig kind of frail
German without a Master.—Scene:
Railway terminus, Cologne.—English Tour
ist (ignorant of the German language): “Hi t
porter, can yon speak English]" Porter:
“Nein, Herr.” English Tourist: “Then,
can you tell me who does !”
Just Like.—A Yankee, traveling in Eu
rope, being asked if he bad seen Mount
Vesuvius, replied, “Yes, I saw her spouting
away, and made up my mind we must have
a mount just like her near Chicago.”
Thu Grecian bend has come to grief in
Mobile. Two young ladies who ventured
out with it recently were so mercilessly ridi
culed that they had to take refuge in a shop.
From the Hew York Herald,
Mobile, October 11, 1868.
The announcement of the death of Howell
Cobb, so suddenly and unexpectedly, has
occasioned considerable regret here, as it will
throughout the South, where he was so well
And favorably known. It also enables your
correspondent to repeat a conversation held
with the deceased in August last, and in do
ing so it is to be hoped that no one will re
gard it as lacking in respect for the dead.
Two visits to Macon and one to Athens for
the purpose of seeing General Cobb had
failed iu their object, but the fourth was suc
cessful. An acquaintance passing over a pe
riod of several years brought a cordial wel
come, and after matters of a purely social
and personal nature bad been discussed, the
real purpose of the visit was introduced.
“ General,” I remarked, “ as I have done
before, I again desire to have your views on
the political situation. Your speech in At-
tanta last month is being used by tbe Radical
newspapers with considerate effect, aud I
desire to know if the sentiments attributed
to you by them are really yours."
“ I do not caro what the Radical newspa
pers of the North say about me,” be replied
“That speech of mine in Atlanta was the
first I delivered since the war ended, and if
I was abused when I kept silent, what need
I expect when I do say something ? I have
written a letter denouncing the manner in
which my language has been misconstrued.
I desire peace as earnestly as any man in tbe
country; I have accepted the situation and
intend to adhere to the terms of my parole
faithfully, but I will never accept the kind of
peace proposed by the Radical party. We are
either an integral part of the Union or con
quered people. If the first, I claim the same
rights for Georgia that New York possesses;
if the last, let us understand it fully, so that
we may decide among ourselves on such a
policy as will in the future lead us to liberty.
But this halfway measure will not suit the
Sotnhern people. Constitutional amendments
and legislative enactments which make po
litical outcasts of some of our best men aud
which reduce to a state of political vassalage
the whites of the South will not bring about
a lasting peace.”
“But I thought, General,” I remarked,
“that you were at one time in favor of the
Fourteenth amendment to the Constitution.”
“So I was, Captain, for a little while,” he
answered. “Luckily I did not so express
myself publicly, for after giving the amend
ment a careful consideration I saw that it
would not do. I regarded that amendment
as tbe most dangerous encroachment upon
the reserved rights of the States that has
yet been attempted by tbe party in power.'
The General then gave his reasons for this
opinion, which were mainly that it gave to
Congress almost unlimited power over the
States in tbe matter of suffrage and repre
sentation. It was, in his opinion, a direct
blow at our system of government.
“What, then, do you propose as a means of
restoring peace and healing the differences
between tbe two sections ?”
“An abandonment of every measure of re
construction and a recognition of every South
ern State as an equal of every Northern
State. Unless this is done there will be no
peace and cannot be any. The Southern
people were earnest in their efforts to restore
the Union after hostilities had ceased. Had
they been met in a friendly spirit we
would now have been a united people and
the Southern soldier would bare fought aside
of the Northern soldier, under the same ban
ner, against a foreign enemy, with as much
courage and fidelity as he did for independ
ence. This feeling is almost dead in the
South. Radical legislation, with its military
and civil despotism, has embittered our peo
ple, and many of them have b«5 un to look
with utter loathing upon a government
which deliberately attempts to make the
slave of yesterday rule men who have ever
possessed the highest order of freedom.
Captain, you are not so blind as not to have
perceived that there is less Unionism at the
South to-day than there lias been atauy time
within our recollection. And upon the re
sult of the pending election depends whether
the Union feeling Ehall be revived or killed
forever.”
“And what do you think of the prospect ?’’
“Bad,” he replied. “I am afraid that we
cannot elect Seymour. He is a good and
able man, but he cannot stem the current of
this revolution. It must reach its climax.—
Grant himself will endeavor to stay it, but
he, too, will be swept away. We have seen
war, bloodshed, partial despotism. We are
now seeing license in the name of liberty.—
The next step is anarchy and a renewal of
hostilities, which will break out at the
North.”
“Ab, General, the same thing .was said in
I860.”
“So it was. Captain; but the lion was not
armed. Suppose Grant President—and my
private opinion is that he will be elected—
and what will be the result? Congress will
be compelled to adopt measures for the
* • Q fates similar to those adopted in
-- *he whites of the South
be impossible to
lese, aud just as
vote just so cer
tain .... :e Radical party.
Give us anything ... lorn of speech and
of action and we will not only kill the party
here, but, aided by tbe Northern Democracy,
we will kill it at the North. The Radical
leaders know this, and self-preservation will
compel them to adopt harsh measures for
tbe South. Despotism heie will eventually
react upon the North. One half of this
country cannot long remain free while the
other half is in a state ot vassalage. When
the Northern people are made to feel the
same tyranny which we are now feeling there
will be a revolution at the North, and it is
merely a matter of time for its occurrence.
Revolution at the North makes us the
arbiters, and then the Radical party will not
only be exterminated, but the South"—hero
the General paused.
“But the South ?” I queried.
“Will be an independent republic.” And
after a short pause he went on, “I may not
live to see tbe day, but you may. Jeff Davis
truly said that although our cause was lost
the principles for which we fought can never
die. If moderate counsels had prevailed after
the war ended we would have had a lasting
Union, bat our great idea of republican gov
ernment would have triumphed in tbe end.
Extremists have prevailed and will continue
to prevail for some years to come. Captain,
we have a long and dreary prospect before
us; but I believe things will come out right
after all. But when freedom comes again
there will be two governments instead of one.
In their effort to prevent tbe possible chance
of a Southern Confederacy the Northern
Radicals are so acting as to make one inevit
able.”
“But, General, do you not think that if the
Radicals attempt to go any further Grant will
use his influence against them aud call upon
the Democracy to aid him ?”
“No; I don’t believe that Grant has any
very great popularity. If Ben Wade had
been the candidate for Presidency, he would
not have received a vote less than Grant will.
I repeat that the progress of this revolution
cannot be checked or' hurried on by any
particular man. God knows I sincerely wish
that the prospect was brighter, but to me at
least it is very dark.”.
The conversation then turned to various
topics, until reference was made to ex-Gov-
ernor Joseph E. Brown, when General Cobb
said:
“Do you remember, Captain: that while I
was in command of the troops below Griffin
in the fall of 1864, you spent a night with
me?” (The speaker referred to tbe time
when Sherman was in Atlanta and just before
he.Btarted on his march to the sea.)
I bowed an acquiescence. - -
“Do yon also remember that in speaking
bout this man Brown I predicted that if we
were whipped be would be one of the first to
go over to the enemy ? 'You see for yourself
how my prediction has been fulfiled. - Joe
Brown i3 one of the most contemptible
characters in the country. Elevated into
positions of honor by the Democratic party,
he has treacherously stabbed it now that it
is not in power, and he will treaty Radical
ism in the same way as soon as it fails to give
him office. I look upon him as *** td
the United States Government. Time will
tell whether he is fincere in his present pro
fessions.”
The conversation again changed, and vari
ous subjects were discussed, when the New
York Herald and its proprietor, Mr. James
Gordon Bennett, were spoken of. General
Cobb said of Mr. Bennett :
“I regard Bennitt as the greatest man in po
litical life that this country has known. Pla
cing aside the fintneial success ot his paper,
he has had the moral courage to say as he
pleased without injuring the circulation of
his journal one copy. He is very inconsisten t,
it is trne, and I believe frequently allows his
paper to pursue a policy that he does notper-
sonally approve oi But he is a man of genius
and will have no ibscure page in the history
of the country.” ,
“ General,” said your correspondent, as he
rose to leave, “ although this conversation has
been of a purely sicial character, may I pub
lish all of it or mch portions as you may
name? As a propinent Southern man your
views would be pf considerable interest to
the public.” /
“No, no, Captan,” he said. “You must
not publish anything that I have said. I do
not wish my vieufe used to injure the South
ern people. The] are suffering enough al
ready. Some of these days,” he continued,
humorously, “wlen I am dead and gone, if
the fulfillment ofmy predictions makes what
I have said of interest, you can publish them.
Ab, Captain, times are much changed. A few
years ago a man could publicly say what he
thought, and it was called freedom of epeech;
now an open expression of opinion is called
treason.”
As he concluded General Cobb shook my
hand with his accustomed warmth and I
took my leave. That was the last time' I
saw him. Whatever his enemies may say of
Howell Cobb it is none tbe les3 true that a
more noble-hearted, generous, genial and
hospitable man never lived. The views given
in tbe foregoing are published now because
I had bis permission at a time when he never
expected that his death was so near at hand.
They may, or may not be of interest. It is,
however, to be hoped that if the super-loyal
gentlemen who edit Radical newspapers dis
cover anything of a “disloyal” character in
what he said they will abstain from any at
tack on the dead, now that
Praise and blame fall on his ear alike.
Steamer New Jackson, with 500 Bales
of Cotton, Sunk.—The Columbus 8un of
Thursday says a dispatch yesterday, received
from Albany, to L. E. O’Keefe, announced
that the steamer New Jackson, with 500
bales of cottou on board, sunk in Flint
river, five miles below Newton, at 2 o’clock
on Tuesday afternoon. No lives were lost.
The dispatch was sent by Capt. Dan Fry.
Mr. Robert Thompson was pilot. Newton is
halfway between Albany and Bainbridge.
Tbe cotton had been shipped from that point
and Albany, and was destined for the
Atlantic and Gulf Railroad. The accident
occurred in tire vicinity of “Hell’s Gate,”
where tbe Wbite Rose was sunk two winters
ago. At this writing no further particulars
have been received.
It is supposed that the boat struck a rock,
and both steamer and cotton may be saved.
The C. D. Fry, in charge of Capt. O’Keefe,
left yesterday for the wreck.
The New Jackson is comparatively a new
steamer, having been built at this place year
before last at a cost of twenty-five thousand
dollars. No insurance on her. She belonged
to the “Barnett Line." The Barnett, under
charge of Capt. Abe Fry, immediately takes
her place, and makes regular trips.
HELEN ASHLEY:
OB, x '\f -
TliE .REFUGEES AT HOME.
From the Land We Love.]
CHAPTER I.
Tiie “ Columbus Prisoners.”—'We are in
formed that the counsel for our citizens, who
were lately on trial before a military commis
sion at Atlanta, have made a requisition on
Gen. Meade for the return of the witnesses
against them. The object is afford the
civil tribunals an opportunity to try the case.
Gen. Meade replied that he has referred the
matter to the Judge Advocate, and there the
matter rests so far ns we are advised.
Our readers will recollect how the wit
nesses and detectives (believed to have been
suborned and suborners) were “spirited
away” os soon as the trial was stopped, or
sooner. But Gen. Meade has constantly ex
pressed his desire to have a fair and im-
jiartial trial. He now has agood opportunity
to make good his words by producing those
witnesses. It cannot be pretended that they
would be in the least danger of violence
while a military force is here to protect them,
and the courts, “reorganized” by Radical
authority, cannot be suspected of any desire,
to shield the guilty. Let justice now be
done!—Columbus Enquirer.
Cotton Prospect.—A hurried jaunt
through Calboua and Baker counties reveals
the fact most forcibly that even the meagre
estimate of the cotton crop of that region
will' fall far short of the mark.
On some plantations where the caterpillar
appeared soonest, the failure is almost total.
A second growth of folia-ie and fruit has suc
ceeded, which, besides being too late to ma
ture, is doing incalculable harm by subtract
ing from the denuded bolls, of tbe first crop,
many of them only half grown, the sap and
aliment essential to their perfection.
The result will be that frost will destroy a
large portion ot tbe fruit which the worm
did not utterly devour.
These are stubborn facts which were
patent to our own observation.
Why should there be any serious decline
in our great staple ?—Cuthbert Appeal.
Salmon Breeding.—A letter from Mr.
Livingstone Stowe, dated Miramchi, N. B.,
October 27th, states that tbe salmon works
there are well under way, and that the aver
age “take" of ova is above fifty thousand a
day. The hatching house has fifty hatching
troughs, each one hundred feet in length and
each can easily receive one or two million
eggs. The parent salmon weigh from ten
to thirty pounds. Twenty thousand egg9 is
the largest amount taken from a single fish,
though some are expected to yield more.
A considsrable number ot eggs have been
sold to the New Hampshire aud Massachu
setts commissioners for New England rivers.
A New York critic says that Mr. Forrest’s
prepent rendition of Jack Cade shows a “mer
itorious mitigation of muscular might.”
It is said a pension of 30,0001 la. to bea
allowed the Countess Walewski out ot
Napoleon’s privy puree, independent of that
which will be granted to her by the Corps
Legislatif.
West Virginia Election.—Wheeling, Oc
tober 28.—The Intelligencer publishes the re
turns from additional counties, swelling the
Republican majority to 4,610. The remain-
ihg thirteen counties, it says, cast ah aggre
gate vote of 2,594 in 1866, and y_;ave a Re-
pnblican majority of 609. The Republicans
claim their majority will reach 5,000. Gen
eral Witcher. Republican candidate for Con
gress from Kanawa Valley, telegraph that
bis majority will be 1,500.
The Pacific Railboad.—There is a hitch
in the progress of the Union Pacific Railroad.
It is reliably ascertained that the work of
construction is not going forward very rap
idly of late. Track-laying is being done at
the rate of not much over half the former
speed. Tbe delay arises from conflicting in
terests concerning the . building of the road
through the Salt Lake region. Advocates of
the Denver route are doing their utmost to
ward changing the original programme.
Only four hundred miles-of grading yet re
main to be done between the Union and
Central Pacific Roads.
Thu ladies have become their own protec
tors—they have.adoptcd the telute for street
wear. ' ‘ - i •/: ’ . ’ • •• f ‘ *
“While the perfumed light
Stole thro’, the mist of alabaster lamps,
And every air was heavy with the sigh '' '*
Of orange groves, and music from sweet lutes,
And murmers of low fountains that gush forth
V the midst of roses.”
[Buhver’s “Lady of Lyons.”
It is night. The moon is shedding her
soft radiance over one of the many feir
and luxurius homes to be found on the
sea coast of South Carolina. Though
as late in the season as October, the eve
ning is very warm, for the charming In
dian summer lingered on, as though loth
to leave such fair scenes to the cold do
main of winter. As yet, the ice king has
sent no herald, of his approach, and the
noble mansion, the majestic oaks, the
smooth green lawn, and the blue water of
the river, all smiled calmly in the clear
moonlight.
Mrs. Ashley, the mistress of this peace
ful home, had been left a widow at the
early age of twenty-one.' At her hus
band’s death the care of a large property
and two little children devolved upon
her. With all her sweet and gentle man
ners, Mrs. Ashley possessed much strong,
good sense, which she now showed in the
management of her property and chil
dren. The eldest, our sweet Helen,
proved an easy charge; and even Char
lie, wild and headstrong as he was, Mrs.
Ashley feared little,, for, surely, with so
warm and generous a heart, he could not
go far astray.
Very fair and bright was Ashley Hall
on that soft October night. The stately
mansion was brilliantly lighted, and the
many forms flitting joyously about in the
parlors, on the broad piazza, and even on
the lawn, speak it a gala night. And
well it may be, for on that day sweet
Helen Ashley- had completed her seven
teenth year, and the proud and happy
mother has invited her friends for many
miles around to celebrate the commence
ment of her only daughter’s young lady
hood.
In the luxurious drawing-room, the
center of a group of matrons, sits Mrs.
Ashley. Reclining in a large arm-chair,
the crimson back of which sets off her
stately form to the greatest advantage, she
does the honors of her elegant home with
the easy gracefulness of the high-born
Southern lady. Her face is still beauti
ful, for she has seen scarce thirty-five
summers, but her rich, dark hair is al
most hidden by the widow’s cap, put on
for her young husband fourteen years be
fore, and worn ever since. She still
wears her weeds, too, and would be greatly
hurt were any one to hint at her making
a change. At the moment we see her
she is speaking to a tall boy of fifteen,
whom she calls “my son.” That is Char
lie, with his large, bright blue eyes and
glossy, curling hair; so like the handsome
young father he cannot even remember,
sleeping under the dark cypress, in the
family burial-place, by the river. The
boy’s cheek is flushed with dancing, for
although so young, his early wit, saucy
gaiety and beautiful dancing make him
the chosen partner of many a fair belle
several years his senior.
But where is Helen, the gentle queen
of these gay revels ? Not in the dancing-
room, not in the parlor, not even on the
lawn. She has not been seen for the last
half hour, and more than one comment
has been made on her absence. But
Charlie says, in reply to his partner,
pretty Minnie Claire’s exclamation of
“where can Helen be ?” “Oh, I suppose
she is somewhere with Allan St. John.
I see he has disappeared, too.”
“Now Charlie, do you know that he is
a match I cannot understand ? I wonder
Helen fancies him, he seems so cold and
proud, while she is so. merry and warm
hearted.”
“But Allan is not cold,” returned
Charlie, eagerly,” and as for his being
proud, why I like that. Has not a South
ern gentleman a right to he proud ? I
tell you what, Miss Minnie, I, for one,
am as proud as Lucifer.”
“Oh, Charlie,” laughs Minnie. “I did
not think you would, allow such a thing.
You men are getting so bold in your
wickedness. I don’t know where it will
stop.”
Charlie colors high at her laughing
words, but answered merrily:
“I know I’m not a man yet, Miss Min
nie, and that’s well for you. If you find
me so irresistible at fifteen, what would
be the state of your heart at twenty-five?
But this is a charming waltz. Will you
dance ?”,
“Well, as you just said, I found you
irresistible. I suppose I must;” and
turning from the cool piazza, they again
sought the dancing-room.
While we leave them to enjoy the
waltz, let us ascertain if Charlie is right
in his suggestions that “Helen is some
where with Allan St. John.”
On one side of the lawn, sloping down
to the river, lay a beautiful garden; on
the other, a thick grove of orange trees,
planted in regular rows, three abreast,
with gravel walks between. They were
a magnificent sight, particularly at this
season, with their golden fruit gleaming
in the moonlight among the rich, dark
leaves.
There indeed we find Helen, and with
her St. John. They are standing still,
and by the light of the friendly moon, we
can see them distinctly. How very lovely
Helen is, in her snowy dress, with neck
lace and bracelets of pearl. Her rich
brown hair is drawn simply back from
her temples, and fastened behind in a
large knot, very low on her neck, its only
ornament a white rose with itsdark green
leaves. Her liquid , brown eyes are
veiled by their long lashes, as though
afraid to meet her companion’s earnest
gaze.
And most worthy was St. John to be
the lover of that gentle girl. . Tall and
strikingly handsome, with a grave, earn
est face, now lit up with passionate love,
he stands beside her. One arm is around
her waist, her hand is clasped in his, and
as we draw near, hislow, musical voice is
whispering:
“In two years my darling, your mother
says you shall be mine. It seems a long
time to wait, but I fear not, for I know and
feel your love will never change.”
And her sweet voice answered:
“Change! Oh, Allan, I could not live
without your love!”
And here let us leave them, happy in
their love and trust. Leave them m their
bright, sunny home, their young hearts
filled with hope, and apparently no cloud
in their fair sky. No cloud did I say?'
Alas, the little cloud, “no larger than a
men’s hand,” is rising, and soon, soon
will it burst over that devoted land.
It was early in October of I860. To,
uthefn ears I need not repeat tbe dreaJ-
‘ tale of all that the next short year
brought forth., The proud, heroic patri-r
otism, the noble ‘self-devotion, the duunt*
lees courage; and oh! the bitter tears;
the costly life blood that bought our vic
tories, the deserted homes, the woe and
desolation, are engraven on the heart of
every liberting-loving Southerner.
chapter n.
‘Come, let the burial rite be read—the funeral
> songbe%ring—*’
An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died
so young;
A dirge for her, the doubly dead, in that she died
so young 1"
[Edgar A. Poe’s “Lenore.”
The two years which Mrs. Ashley had
stipulated should pass before the mar
riage pf her daughter, are over. He
day to which Helen and St. John had
looked forward so eagerly and confiden
tially had at length arrived.
Let us hasten to beautiful Ashley Hall,
to witness the gay revels there. As we
near the place we do indeed hear sounds
of merriment, but can those loud voices,
and that coarse laughter proceed from
the polished and highborn guests who
were wont to grace the noble old man
sion? We pass through the broad oak
avenue, and observe with wonder how
neglected is its appearance: By a sudden
turn we come in front of the house.
Without pausing to notice that the lawn
is overgrown with weeds, the beautiful
flower garden a ruin, and even many of
the orange trees cut down, our gaze is
riyited on. the house. itself. On the pi
azza, in the parlor, lounging in the lux
urious chairs, and on the sofas, are scat
tered groups of dirty, half-dressed ne
groes. One of them is striking on the
piano, while others dance to the uncouth
sounds. Can this be the home of the
Ashleys? Alas! it is now in the hands
of our cruel and vindictive foes, who have
abandoned it to the negroes.
We turn with horror from so revolting
a scene to seek the noble-family now
driven, into exile and poverty.
Far away, in one of the upper districts
of South Carolina, there is a small and
sparely-furnished cottage. In one of the
rooms, on a couch drawn near the win
dow, lies a young girl. In that - worn
and pallid face we can scarcely recognize
the once blooming Helen. The round
ed, graceful form is wasting to a shadow,
and the wistful brown eyes retain nothing
of by-gone days, save their gentle, loving
softness. Their brightness has been
dimmed by bitter tears, and sorrow and
suffering Lave almost entirely quenched
the hope that once shown so purely in
their liquid depths. The beautiful hair
is still drawn back as of yore, and you
may plainly trace the blue veins in the
fair temples. Beside her sits her mother.
In spite of the close cap, you see that
sorrow has thickly streaked her hair
with gray. The stately form is bowed,
and the face is worn and weaiy.
And why is St. John absent' from his
promised bride, now that she is ill, in
poverty and exile? Alas! he has fallen,
one of the many victims on the altar of
freedom. He rests where he fell, on the
bloody field of the second Manassas. A
simple cross marks the place of his grave,
raised by his comrades, that he may, at
some future day, be moved to his island
home. On the cross his name is cut:
“Private. Allan St. John, Palmetto
Guards, 2d regiment, S. C. V.”
Yes, with all his talent; wealth and ar
istocratic birth, St. John died a private.
Possessed of neither military education,
nor peculiar military skill, he sought no
office, but was content to die with no
higher title than that of a gentleman pri
vate; yet, methinks, no purer, nobler
name can be bom in such a struggle for
liberty. For his country, and for her
alone, he fought, and no thought of self
mingled its alloy with the pure gold of
his patriotism.
A few short months after the date of
our last chapter, when South Carolina
called upon her sons to rally around the
walls of Sumter, St. John fastened to
join the patriotic band under the com
mand of the gallant and lamented Cap
tain Cuthbert. As a member of thePal-
metto Guards he fought until death laid
him low. A few weeks after his fall, his
place in the company was supplied by
Charlie, then scarcely seventeen. The
boy had long been anxious to join the
army, but, on account of his youth, his
mother had hitherto refused her consent.
Now, however, when he heard of the
death of his friend, his almost brother,
and saw his sisters’s anguish, he passon-
ately implored his mother to hol'd him
back no longer. And she, seeing it was
best, yielded up her treasure to her coun
try^ service. He had not been in Vir
ginia more than six weeks, when he was
summoned home to his sister’s death-bed.
That evening was the earliest time possi
ble at which he could.arrive, and mother
and sister were both anxiously watching
for him. They had been silent for the
last half hour, when Helen spoke:
“Mother, if Charlie does not come to-
day, I shall never see him again, for I
feel that I shall not live until to-morrow.
To-day was to have been our wedding
day, you know, and I feel it shall be yet.
But, oh, mother, we never thought it
would be in Heaven.”
She paused, then softly repeated:
. “Nearer miy Father’s house,
"Where the many mansions be;
Nearer the Great White Throne; .
Nearer the jasper sea;
Nearer the bound of life,
Where we lay our burden’s down; 4
Nearer leaving my cross;
Nearer wearing my crown.’’
“Mother, do you remember how we
used to sing that at home ? It was Al
lan’s favorite. I recollect his telling me
once that Heaven never seemed so near
him as when he sang that. Now I am
going to my Father’s home, and oh, how
I thank Him that Allan will be there to
meet me! Ho you know,{mother, on the
night that I was seventeen, I told him
in the dear old orange grove that I could
not live without his love, and you see I
was right. My Father saw I was a poor,
weak creature without my Allan, and so
He is taking me to him. Do not cry so,
darling mother. Have you not taught
me that ‘to live is Christ, but to die is
gain?’”
“My child I my child! How can I
give you up? You who have been my
comfort through so much of sorrow and
affliction I Help me, oh God, to say ‘Thy
will, not mine, be done.’ ” s
“But mother, you will have Charlie
here, and two children in Heaven with
father. Surely you, who have always
lived so near to God will not find it hard
to think your treasures are with Him.
Oh, mother, dear toother, let toe go
home!”
Her voice ceased, and drawing her
mother down to her, she strove to kiss
away the blinding tears. So absorbed
were they that the opening of the doer
disturbed them ^ not, and ChArite stood
some seconds in the room beforethey were’
Aware, of hjs presence. U an
however,,he'was
arms, and she was kfcing v
the passionate fervor of a «l
for an only son. * W
he turned to his sister, but R w' i ^
the change a few weeks had llS J
could only throw himself dowTT “ ‘ *
in an uncontrollable i
She held him closely, kiiino^l-
again the cheek already imbl^ 9 *
v.« y. *“J Dr o»n«i l
his few weeks’ exposure to the ^
of a soldier's life. At length
fearing the excitement would n, mot ^
much for Helen, drew him aw*° Ve *
he could regain composure.” 01111
The sun was slowly setting &&
couch by the window lay the 011
But now die was supported in 0$
er’s arms, and her pale cheek
his gray jacket. Softly she °<
“Mother, Charlie, will yLf}*
is rest for the weary ?’ ” Sm =
They complied, and sadly th f I
of that sweet hymn sounded in
her of death. When it ceSed i ^
“Thank r „u, oh, ftank
sweet it. is to know that ’
“Pain nor sickness there shall
Grief nor woe my lot shall ahj'
' “And[ mother, you and Charlie
join us there, ‘in the Christian’s i *
—in— p n 7 S >N
• Kut > oh, it jg
glory;’ will you not?
hard to say good bye, even TC l S
know it is only for a little Tvhile r^
I could see our dear d on \ ^
I could see our dear, dear counJ
beautiful sunny South, free oS*°1
but God knows best. One tnor»
mother dearest, and now you a j?
my own,.kind brother, mydarli-aF
boy. Mother, Charlie, if it a t^
your power, let Allan and iner^t,!,
She paused a moment; then added
“I feei weary, but Charlie holds mes
nice ] y, and I like to think the mr'2
et in which Allan died, and which w
wear my darling, is to bemyM pi£
Mother, will you and Charlie sing o 5 o
more for me, Nearer my Father’s hou^
I feel very, very near now.”
The weeping mother calmed her?ei<
and commenced, and ere long Charlie'
voice jomed hep’s. When the In™
ended Helen still lay with her eve
closed, and a peaceful smile on her hi
but there was a change which made he
mother start, and bend more closely oye
her. Raising her head, she whispers
softly:
“She is with Allan, Charlie. Ourdi
ling is in her Father’s home of rest.”
Another year has passed, andthelitt!
cottage is empty. Beside Helene gru
is another, for Mrs. Ashley is will h
daughter. And Charlie ? On thefe
stained field of Chancellorsville, yta
the captain fell he so passionately !oh
and admired, another martyr in'ours
cred cause, the hoy soldier yielded upl
young life. The shock proved too m*
for the fading strength of Mrs. A#
and one short week afterwards she joa
her husband and children in the !n
where “the wicked cease from tronhiia
and the weary are at rest.”
A Loyal Juror.
From the Land We Love. I
Under the protection of the Freecaij
Bureau and the teaching of the loyal Ferh
the negroes of the South commit raorec
every week than the aggregate erke in
them during the twohundred years of;!irej
Rape, robbery and murder are of dailyo
rence. Still, amid ali the outrages col
mitted, there has been a gooff deal cf f
ludicrous not unworthy the Hwer=ack
■When the order came from t'seBi? Bo*
each of the “five Districts” to pat cegrc
the jury, the colored brethren were no: sll
to learn that the pay was two dote I
day. Many of them walked ten ari fif'l
miles to town, saying that they bad cornel
“jine the jury.” One of those, who mijtf
the generic name of Pompey Squash, d.dl
on the jury. During the whole trial, hej
meditating upon the goorlners of the 1
Boss in letting him have a chance to get |
two dollars a day. He understood not
word that was eaid by witnesses sndiiwjl
but his meditations were, nevertheless.s»l
upon the forthcoming greenbacks.
woman shill git a rael, shore nnff<
frock, and shan’t go to meetin’ in a cenp<
frock, like de white trash.”
In the midst of these pleasant rtfiwtij
the Judge gave a solemn charge to thej
explaining the points of law aodery®
them to discharge their duty faitbfui.y.
jury retired to their room. “Didyoaaj
stand the Judge’s charge, Mr.
asked one of the jurors. Instantly nSj*
face became a shade blacker, his cj E - 1
in his bead, and the whites ofhiseyw- 1 1
like snow-flakes on a coalpile, •
Lord, is de Judge chargin’ us ? I tot ?
agwine to git pay 1”
We will conclude the anecdote.
liked tbe style, “the rest ot this thnliicg
to be found in Bonner’s Ledger nest *
Cloe got her “ rael calikcr froclw
down, with queenly contempt,- 1
trash.”
- Je waj
A widower of 78 and ?pw-' lcr .
of COii
Their united weifl
spliced in Connecticut.
700 pounds.
There are but three spans ’* &tuur ! ;^
the bridge across the Susquehanna
Wrightsville and Columbia.
The Roman Catholics are building
000,000 cathedral in Canton, China-
It is said that as the twig is s (
inclined. Some of tbe young
town will grow qneerly if the w :
prevails very long. . J
The Republic of Hayti ought “jl
governed. It no w has tour Presidents ■
field. ..J
When a .base ball man makes a
run,” be is said to be henpecked.
A flock of ants, ten miles i® ^
cently swept across Sba9ta \ alley) *■
county, California.
In New York city last week there*
waddings. .
.The world’s annual crop of toba^
timated at 432,400 tons.
Deacon Alvab Kimball, a P r, ’®'‘
zen of Nashua, N. H.,died m»P.™U
ing Sunday sight, at the age of « -
The ferry boat King’s county ^
the water’s edge, at New York,
night. Loss |70,000; insured.
The Republican Congress!onait j
Committee have circulated 64,ww-
ments during the campaign. ^
Mr. Charles J. Wolbert,
auctioneer in Philadelphia,» de *
Mexico is getting economical
eminent is redneing the nun)
holders aud lessening salaries. ^
One of tbe royal generals in 8p*> * [(
condemned a child only fire J
■hot as the son of a rebel.
Mb. James Gordon Bewmtit
Jerome, and threo or four ot !^ t Li
have gone to FI arid* one aboom
sion.
Ret. Hetoy j W«a Beee^^T
us candidate for the United , j
in case tbe Rwticnl* hate a
Naw YorkIj(jisl*tnre.
“Baa Baowit did yoo
had not umtoi sew* M
dog?” “TJoTTnever W
r never d
TOTch ioi '
I said *a« tM SJgisMb
“Wtii, fcSMtoB aidE’t uj
tell I**”.: ;
^ysfN
m
of«
3 old 6
<1
.< i * ,
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