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The, Family Journal.—News—Politics—Literature—Agriculture—Domestic Affairs
GEORGIA TELEGRAPH BUILDING.
IABLISHED 1826.}
MACON, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 1868.
YOL. XLIIL—NO. 2.
A TERRIBLE VOYAGE.
ippiMcolt’* Magazine for December.1
nen in Santa Fe some weeks ago, I
lt d from a newspaper which I cas-
pieked up, that a scientific gentle-
^Professor Powell by name, if my
jory serves me aright—was aboiit
j.’out with an expedition to explore
Grand Canon of the Rio Colorado
: e West. Since then my time has
jv been spent among the mountains
to the plains of New Mexico and
gts, without access to newspapers, so
I have lost sight of the expedition,
j’aich I feel a deep interest,) and in
frontier town which is my present
porary abiding place, I can learn
; ing in regard to it. I trust that it is
•raring favorably, and will be able
jruL-li a satisfactory report to an ex
ant public; yet I can assure you
should Professor Powell be entirely
Useful, ho will accomplish a work,
jugnitude of which—leaving its dan-
; out of the calculation—will far sur-
? that of any former exploration upon
American continent.
,"ne most skillful and adventurous ex
ists of whom we have any knowledge
ie pioneer gold hunters of the Great
st—have made many attempts to ex-
re the tremendous chasm in question,
1, after exhausting their means and
noth in fruitless struggles against the
Arable barriers imposed by Nature,
fed back wearied and discomfitted
3 the task. There is—or was a few
•s since—a stronghold of the Huala-
• Indians within the canon, perhaps a
jn miles from its mouth, and above
. point no man, white or red, has suc-
led in ascending more than four or
miles, notwithstanding more than
party of hearty “prospecters” have
ued days to the most determined ef-
3 to proceed farther. So much for
approach in front. The approach by
:er Hank is quite as impracticable,
i the walls of the canon are vertical,
?arly so, varying in height from one
-and to eight thousand feet, and in a
ince of about about five hundred
a presenting no break or side fissure
which man or beast might safely reach
bottom of the stupendous gorge,
jC ru rolls the Colorado, und hears no sound
c its own dashing ”
lease my “dropping iuto poetry,” but
vordsquoted are thorougly applicable
be Colorado in its course through the
:i .-oiitinks of the Grand Canon, while
were never true of the Oregon or
nubia.) The Colorado Chiquito, or
i river, empties into the canou about
way of its length, but it pours over a
i precipice. I have heard vague re-
a of an old Spanish or Indian trail
*?iDg the canon, but, after diligent in-
ry, I could get no tangible assurance
t”«uch a trail had ever existed. Old
ters, who had followed the course of
canon along its banks, through its
•le extent, scouted the idea. Parties
e travelled along the brink of the
in for days, famishing with thirst, yet
•.allied by the almost constant sight of
waters of the Colorado, utterly inac-
•iblo except by a downward leap of
ral thousand’ feet perpendicularly,
ich few would care to risk. A young
a whom I met in New Mexico asserted
l lie had once descended the side of
canon to the river, and returned by
same path;- but upon questioning
i, I discovered that he confounded the
iek Canon, between Fort Mojave and
■Ivllle, with the Grand Canon, which
bad never seen; and this is » frequent
ir with persons who have passed
iugh the former, which is of inconsid-
ke length, and offers but little ob-
uvtion to the passage of small steamers
' barges. In fine, I am convinced that
only practicable way of exploring
Grand Canou is by netering it above,
1 to illustrate the difficulties and dan-
s of attempting it iu that direction,
urpose, by your leave, to rehearse the
rative of the only human being who
ever made the passage through it—
K of the Indian tribes on the river
ring either remembrance or tradition
it such a passage has ever previously
: made.
i the month of April, 1,867, three
—Captain Charles Baker formerly
evident of St. Louis, and later well
own in Colorado as an indefatigable
1 adventurous, but not always success-
prospecter; George Strobe, also origi-
ly from St. Louis; and James White,
tnerly of Kenosha, Wisconsin, after-
rd a gold-miner in California, and
ring the rebellion a private in the
th California Cavalry, serving under
ral Connor in Utah—set out from
orado City, C. T., to prospect for pla-
gold on the San Juan river, which
•ties into the Colorado in Utah Terri-
some thirty or forty miles below the
3uence of Green and Grand rivers.
tj were mounted on horses, and drove
b them several animals laden with
visions and mining implements. Af-
a tedious, toilsome, ami hazardous
Hey over a very rocky and mountuin-
eountry, without so much as an In
8 trail to relieve the roughness of the
? for much of the distance, they reach
their destination—a point some miles
■ve San Juan Mountain—about the
Idle of May, and immediately pro
ved to prospect, following, the river
■•’ward, carefully examining the
G, and especially the gulches, on
Jer side, and sinking shafts to the
••rock wherever the indications seemed
•arrant so much labor. Iu this man-
r they consumed nearly three months
| their stock of provisions, meeting
** but indifferent success, their best
pect being about two cents to thepan-
°f dirt, obtained from a gulch near the
' of St. Juan Mountain. They were
however, prepared to altogether
®don that field. Two cents to the
ul, if not, in miners' phrase, a “big
S>” is still encouraging. They dis
c’d the matter, and resolved to return
■olorado City, procure a fresh supply
'revisions, and, if possible, a few more
’» and, returning to San Juan Moun-
'• s pe,od the winter at its base. They
‘er resolved that as some of their an
imals were footsore from traveling un
shod over extremely rocky ground, they
would proceed to the mouth of the San
Juan and attempt to construct a raft,
upon which to convey themselves and
their animals to Green river, thus avoid
ing the worst portion of the route by
which they had come.
The morniag of the 25th of August
found the little party encamped near the
mouth of the San Juan. They had eaten
breakfast, and were collecting their lari
ats and pack-ropes with which to lash to
gether the cotton-wood drift-logs, of which
they had found a sufficiency for their
purpose strewn by floods along the bank
of the Colarado. They were in excellent
spirits, and chatted gayly of the prospect
of soon meeting old friends amid civilized
scenes, when suddenly they heard a sa\ -
age yell, followed by the crack of rifles,
the whistling of bullets, and the hurtling
of arrows. Captain Baker fell dead.
Strobe and White sprang to their feet and
fired an ineffectual round or two; but,
finding themselves beset and in danger
of being surrounded by about forty Utah
Indians, they abandoned the unequal
contest, and hastily snatching up the
ropes which they had collected, and a
small sack containing perhaps ten pounds
of flour, which happened to lie in their
way, fled to the Colorado. The Indians,
being occupied in catching the animals,
plundering the camp, and stripping and
scalping the dead body of Captain Ba
ker, did not immediately pursue them,
and the fugitives were enabled to get a
few logs lashed together, launch the raft
thus hastily constructed, and pole them
selves out of harm’s way before their ene
mies found leisure to look after them.
The circumstances attending the em
barkation of our involuntary voyagers
were, to say the least, discouraging. In
the unknown wilderness, hundreds of
miles from any civilized habitation, they
had suddenly been despoiled of the great
er part of their means of life and of
reaching their homes, and forced, for the
preservation of their bare lives, to com
mit themselves upon a frail raft to an un
known stream, and float they knew not
whither. But their sorest loss was that
of their friend and leader, Captain Ba
ker, upon whose sagacious and experienced
counsels they had hitherto depended to
extricate them from all difficulties. Now
they must trust to their own inexperi
enced guidance, or rather submit to be
led by blind Fate whithersoever she
would. But the men who go forth to
seek new gold fields amid Nature’s wilds
are not easily daunted. Sad they were
for their friend and leader’s fate, and
doubtless a trifle anxious for their own;
but they discussed the situation as calmly
as if they had been seated on the piazza
at the best hotel in Colorado City, instead
of a rude and loosely-constructed cotton
wood raft on the Upper Colorado. At
length, as they became satisfied that they
were not pursued, they grew cheerful,
and speculated hopefully upon the prob
ability of a speedy termination, of their
voyage. They had little knowledge of
the section of country they were in; and
although they had heard of the Grand
Canon, they had no definite idea of eith
er its locality or extent. They knew that
Callville was at the head of navigation
on the Colorado, and as they were floating
smoothly along upon a broad and deep
stream, they easily persuaded themselves
that the head of navigation could not be
far distant, and that they would reach
Callville in two or three days at the farth
est. Having settled that matter to their
satisfaction, they fell to the discussion of
their further plans; frequently, however,
recurring to the catastrophe of the morn
ing, and referring in terms of regret or
eulogy to their murdered comrade, whom
many good qualities, as well as long com
panionship, had greatly endeared to
them. So passed the first day, oh the
evening of which they turned their raft
shoreward, and, having found a suitable
place for the purpose, made it fast for the
night. Having no means of making a
fire, and not being hungry enough to
crave a supper of raw flower, “straight,”
or mixed with water, they lay down fast
ing, and soon were wrapped in deep and
refreshing slumbers.
At sunrise next morning they let go
their hawser and resumed their voyage,
still preferring empty stomachs to such
food as they had. Still, as throughout
the previous day’s voyage, the river
flowed on smoothly between low and
verdure-clad banks, but the velocity of
its country was perceptible increasing.
At length, toward noon, they came to
rapids swift and rocky, in descending
which they lost their carbines and their
little store of flour—their only provision
—their only provision—while their revol
vers were wet so as to be unservicablc.
Below these rapids the banks were steep
and rocky ; but an island of some extent
afforded them a convenient place to haul:
out for repairs, while the screw-pod mez-
•1 uit with which it was partially covered
.urni.-lied them with a scanty but not al
together unpalatable meal.
(Of niezqnit, a thorny bush which grows
in great abundance.on the Colorado, and
in many other portions of California, Ar
izona and Mexico, there are two varieties
—one producing beans in a large pod,
resembling our ordinary garden beans,
while the other produces small seeds,
about the size of those of the locust, en
veloped in a small spiral pod, from two
to three inches in length, which is fleshy,
and has a pleasantly sweetish taste. I
have tasted them, and found them to be
rather tough, but otherwise palatable.)
Having passed the night at the island,
our vovagers set out in the morning with
their raft in better condition than before,
and with renewed hope of soon getting to
the end of their voyage, or at least of
reaching a port. From the size and
depth of the stream, they argued that the
head of navigation—Callville—must be
near. After they had floated for a few
hours, however, the sound of falling wa
ter was borne to their ears, becoming
more and more distinct as they proceeded,
until they were satisfied that they were
approach ng a cataract. Meanwhile
they had gradually and almost uncon
sciously drifted into a cannon with high,
precipitous walls, which confined the riv
er within a narrower channel than it had
coursed above. A hasty reconnoissance
convinced them that they could not es
cape from the gorge by climbing the
walls, while the current was now so swift
that it was useless to think of attempting
to turn back. White, however, took the
precaution of lashing himself to the raft,
and advised Strobe to do likewise.
“No,” replied the latter; “I am an old
Mississippi boatman, and can stick to the
raft wherever she goes, without tieing.
It isn’t much of a fall, and there is no
danger in running it; but if a man is
tied in such a place, he might lose his
life before he could get loose. We had
better tie our revolvers, though; they’re
wet now, and a little more won’t hurt
them. And we had better be rid of them.”
On swept the raft with rapidly increas
ing speed; the voyagers, silent, stern,
with compressed lips and tense nerves,
boldly facing the peril which they were
now powerless to avoid. A moment
they were balanced upon the brink of the
cataract—the next were plunged sheer
twelve feet into the seething waters be
neath. Emerging at length, White
found himself alone on the raft, which
an eddy had caught in the rim of its vor
tex, and was slowly whirling around.
When he had partially recoverd his self-
possession, which had been seriously dis
turbed by the shock of the fall, he looked
around for his companion, and quickly
descried him in mid-channel, some twen
ty yards distant, buffeting the current
with feeble and uncertain stroke. Shout
ing to him some words of his encourage
ment, and hastily freeing himself from
his lashings, White prepared to make
such efforts as he could to assist and save
his comrade; but almost immediately
poor Strobe, half-strangled doubtless, and
bewildered by his frightful plunge over
the cataract, without a cry or a groan
sank and rose no more.
The fate of either of his comrades
would have been a merciful one to White,
in comparison to what befel him. Poor
fellow! his troubles had hardly yet be
gun, while theirs were ended, at least for
this world. The death of Strobe fell
upon him with crushing weight. Sink
ing upon the raft, which floated slowly
around with the eddy, until it stranded
upon the head of a small island, he
abandoned himself for a brief period to
all the misery of despair. But his rug
ged, energetic nature would not long
succumb to such a feeling. Recovering
himself, he began to survey as calmly as
he might, his situation.
And now came back upon his memory
the stories he had heard from some old
prospecters while he lay in camp at Salt
Lake—idle tales he had deemed them
then, hut now he could not resist the
conviction of theirreality—of the terrible
Great Canon; of its great length, tre
mendous depth aud impassable walls; of
the vain efforts which had been made to
explore its fearful solitudes. Looking
around upon the high, steep walls, which
hemmed him in on either hand, and
stretching away before, dark and frown
ing, as far as the eye could reach, he no
longer doubted but that he was in the
veritable Grand Canon, through which
no living human being had ever passed.
He thought of endeavoring to return, but
a brief examination convinced him that
would be impossible, unless he were gifted
with wings. He thought of attempting
to scale the walls of the canon, but as his
eager eye wandered over their dark, flat
surfaces, where a lizard could hardly gain
a foothold, he abandoned the idea as too
wild to he entertained. There was no
way open for him except in the course of
the river through the eauon, and in
that direction there seemed not the
shadow of a chance that he might succeed
and live. He only dared to hope that by
carefully tieing hiniself to the raft his
body might float through with some por
tion of it, and be identified by means of
a pocket memorandum book, which he
endeavored to secure to his person, so
that his fate might become known to his
relatives and friends. Having considered
these things with the desperate calmness
of a man who regards himself as doomed
to speedy and inevitable death, he never
theless omitted nothing which might tend
to the preservation of his life. First, he
overhauled his raft and tightened its
lashings. Next, he stript the mezquit
bushes, which grew on the island, of
their scanty crop, with which he partially
appeased his hunger. Then, with a fer
vent appeal to the Great Father of all,
he launched his raft and floated away
to encounter unknown dangers and ter
rors.
It is hardly necessary to say that
White kept no “log” of his voyage, and it
would therefore be impossible to give,
from this point, the details of his daily
progress. Never before did mortal man
perform such a journey. For near five,
hundred miles he floated over a succes
sion of cascades and cataracts, varying in
height from four to twenty feet, with
patches of smooth water between. Fre
quently, in plunging over a fall, the raft
was overturned, and it was with much
difficulty be saved himself from drown
ing. Once he was so long under water
that he became insensible, but on that
occasion the raft providentially emerged
right side up, and when he revived he
found himself floating along as if nothing
had happened. Below each fall there
was an island, formed by the sand thrown
up by the eddying waters, affording him.
an opportunity of hauling up his raft for
repairs—a very necessary operation, as
the ropes with which it was bound were
frequently cut upon the edges of the
rocks at the head of the falls—and a
place of rest during the night. At first
the mezquit growing upon the islands
supplied him with a scanty allowance of
food, hut after the sixth day he found
the islands barren. A rawhide knife
scabbard then afforded him some slight
sustenance and a good deal of chewing
for a couple of days, after- which he was
without food of any kind until he got
catch them, but was too feeble to suc
ceed, aud so the tempting creatures es
caped. To add to his misery, he was
stripped by the rocks and waters of his
hat, pants, drawers, boots and socks,
while the sun, which he was compelled
almost constantly to face, sitting in a
constrained posture during the hottest
part of the day, beat with burning fierce
ness upon his unprotected head and legs,
the latter soon becoming blistered and
raw from the unwonted exposure. And
all the time the dark walls of the *anon
towered above him, nowhere les3 ihan a
thousand feet, and in some places & mile
and a half in height, to the best of his
judgment: he had no means op oppor
tunity of measuring the distance. Anx
iously he watched tor some avenue of es
cape, some crevice or fissure iu tk« ada
mantine walls which confined him, but
there was none. The consoling reflection
remained that it was perhaps better to be
dashed to pieces, or perish of simple star
vation in the canon, than to scramble out
of it, and add the torment of thirst to
those which he had already endured. So
he voyaged on, now helplessly broiling in
the merciless rays of the sun, (no one
who has not been upon the Colorado can
form an adequate idea of the heat which
prevails there in summer,) as he floated
calmly, yet swiftly, along upon an ex
panse of comparatively smooth water;
then tumbling over a cascade, or rushing
through a rapid, at the imminent peril of
shipwreck upon the rocks, which humped
and thumped his frail raft until its light
timber rattled again; and now, shudder
ing and with bated breath, plunging over
a fall, for ought he knew into eternity.
Day by day, and hour by hour he grew
weaker from want of food, while, from
sitting in a cramped position and from
exposure to the sun, his legs were so stiff
and sore as to be almost entirely dis
abled. Still with dogged resolution he
persevered, improving every available
moment of daylight, and making, as he
believed, at a moderate estimate, between
forty and fifty miles distance every day.
At length, on the evening of Septem
ber 6th, the raft—with our bruised, bat
tered and starving voyager, more dead
than alive, but yet retaining a great deal
of the wonderful vitality which had thus
far sustained him, still clinging to it—
emerged from the canon. Again the
broadening river flowed between low,
green banks. White felt that the worst
of his voyage was over—if he could but
hold out a day or two longer he would
be saved. But, though his spirit was un
daunted, his physical strength was nearly
gone. He floated on, watching eagerly
for the signs of human habitation. Soon
he passed the mouth of a considerable
stream—the Rio Virgin—and almost
immediately he heard voices shouting to
him. He could hardly convince himself
that the sounds were real, and as he gaz
ed in wondering suspense toward the
bank, a number of Indians leaped into
the water, swam off to him, and pushed
the raft ashore. Being pretty well ar-
roused by this summary proceeding, of
which he did not know whether the intent
was hostile or friendly, White attempted
to rise to his feet, but the Indians pulled
him down again so violently that the
skirts of his coat, which they took hold
of for the purpose, came offin their hands.
They then seized one of the two revolv
ers which remained fastened to the raft,
hut White, who had no idea of being
robbed without resistance, stoutly retained
possession of the other. One of the Indi
ans then addressed him in English, in
forming him that they were Pah-Utes,
and “good Indians;” whereupon White
demanded something to eat. After some
parleying, they agreed to give him a dog
for his remaining pistol; but, having se
cured the weapon, they let the animal go.
He was finally obliged to give them his vest
for catching and killing the dog (a small
one,) and then they appropriated the fore
quarters. The Indians seemed to com
prehend the fearful trip which he had
just made, and to express some astonish
ment among themselves that he should
have survived it; hut his condition ex
cited not the smallest spark of sympathy
in their dusky bosoms. He was a white
man, and their lawful prey. The fact
that they were “at peace” with the whites
hardly accounts for their treating him
with so much forbearance as they did,
since they could have killed him without
fear of discovery; and I have known hut
few Ind.ans, however “good,” who could
resist an opportunity of shedding a
white man’s blood with impunity.
White ate a hind quarter of dog, raw
and without salt, for his supper, and then
lay down and slept sound]) - . In the
morning he ate the other hind quarter,
and having learned from the Indians
that Callville was near, again embarked
and resumed his voyage, which had now
lasted fourteen days.
It chanced that at this time the barge
Colorado, of Fort Mojave, in charge of
Captain Wilburn, with a crew of four or
five men, was at Callville, receiving a
cargo of lime and salt. Standing on the
river bank, Captain Wilburn saw the
strange craft pass by on the other side,
and hailed. The response came in feeble
tones: “My God! Is this Callville?”
“Yes,” replied.Wilburn; “comeashorel”
“I’ll tiy to,” replied the voyager, hut I
don’t know whether I can or not.” Wil
burn and his men being busily employed,
did not particularly notice his appear
ance, and when they saw Him bring the
raft to about two hundred yards below,
they thought no more of the matter until
nearly two honrs after, when a strange-
looking object made its appearance on
the crest of the hill near the'landing.
“My God, Captain Wilburn!” exclaim
ed qne of the crew, “that man’s a hun
dred years old 1”
And he looked a3 if he might even be
older. His long hair and flowing beard
were white ; his eyes were sunken;" his
cheeks emaciated: his shrunken legs
were in front a mass of black and loathe-
some scabs from his loins to his toes, and
as he crawled slowly and painfully
toward them, with his hands resting upon
Meanwhile” through to the mouth of the Rio Virgin, his knees, the men, with exclamations; of
tost uncon- One day he saw some lizards and tried to ? astonishment and
pity went to meet and
assist him. They brought him into their
camp, gave him food, washed and anoint
ed his sores, and clothed him. The re
vulsion of feeling was too nuch for White.
He became delirious, and remained so
for some hours; but toward evening his
wandering senses returned, and he was
able to give an account of himself. James
Ferry, U. S. Quatermaster’s Agent at
Callville, on hearing of the conduct of
the Pah-Utes, sent out a runner for their
chief, whom he compelled to restore ev
erything that had been taken from White,
and then dismissed him with certain
moral and humanitarian exhortations,
which it is to be hoped will do him good.
He took White to his house, and kept
him there until he had recovered, so far
as he could recover, from the effects of
his terrible voyage. When I last heard
of White, he was carrying the mail be
tween Callville and Fort Mojave. At
the latter place, Gen. Wm. J. Palmer,
Treasurer of the Union Pacific Railway
Company, E. D., saw and conversed
with him, and from his statements was
satisfied that the length of the Grand
Canon is not less than five hundred miles,
and that its thorough scientific explora
tion, while not absolutely impossible, will
present difficulties which will not soon be
surmounted. General Palmer thinks the
numerous falls in the canon have been
formed by immense masses of rock which
have fallen into the river from its walls.
I believe the course of the Colorado
might be advantageously diverted above
the canon; and, from the character of
the country above and around it, I think
it probable that if this were done, a large
quantity of gold might be found in the
river bed.
A Mystery Solved—A Fly Leaf from
a Detective’s Note-book.
From the St, Louis Republican^
Buttonholing one of our reporters on his
customary rounds yesterday morning, a well-
known detective, whose name it will not be,
necessary to mention, narrated a chapter
from his personal history which borders
closely on the romantic. His story, as told
in his own language, was in substance as
follows:
“Do you remember the mystery I was en
gaged in solving when we last met?” he
asked, and. without waiting for an answer,
continued, “Well, I will tell you the sequel.
Mrs. A., you recollect, lost the ring, and Nel
lie was suspected of stealing it. The
morning after the ball, while sleeping in her
own chamber, the ring was removed from
her finger without arousing its owner. No
one but Nellie bad access to tbe apartment,
and she must have taken it. So thought
Mrs. A., so thought her husband, and so did
I, when I was sent for and given the points
in the-case, before being employed to work
it up. The ring was set with diamonds, a
cluster of exceeding brilliancy and richness.
Its value could not have been less than $G00.
Nellie was employed as Mrs. A.’s waiting
maid, at wages which in four years would
scarcely have aggregated the value of the
diamonds.
Every stone in the set was worth a year of
Nellie’s life and labor, albeit neither nor all
of them could have dropped a single drop of
water on a parching tongue, or stroked a
fevered brow when it was racked with pain.
At the instance of Mrs. A, Nellie was arrest
ed, upon the accusation of stealing the ring.
She professed her innocence in tears, but all
tbe circumstances looked so strongly to
wards her guilt, her tears were unavailing.
I followed her to the jail, and at my sug
gestion she was assigned a cell by her
self. The next day I visited her, and by
every means I dared to employ sought
to gain from her a confession.' At length
I attempted to intimidate her, and harshly
charged her with the theft. Again she
burst into tears, and biding her face in
her hands, wept as though her heart would
break. Here the matter ended, for I could
go no further. I had forgotten to tell you
before that Nellie was handsome, and she
never seemed half so beautiful in my eyes as
when the tears were falling from her own, in
a shower of diamonds, every one of them
more precious than those I was after. I left
the cell completely baffled; although I never
told as much to Mrs. A., or intimated as
much to Nellie, I was satisfied of her inno-
cense, and forthwith turned my efforts in
another direction. I continued my visits to
Nellie in lier cell day after day, but never
afterwards alluded to the ring.
A week had passed, and I had all but given
up the job in despair. Finally, early one
morning, while loitering down a certain
street in the direction of the river, I instinct
ively paused under three balls and began
closely scrutinizing a display of pledges in
the window of “ my uncle’s” shop. In an
instant my eye singled out of a whole case of
rings one which I thought might be, and, as
fortune would have it, proved to be identi
cally that stolen from Mrs. A.’s finger. I had
but little difficulty in tracing the thief. It
was Mrs. A.’s own son. To satisfy a debt
contracted during a debauch, he had taken it
from his mother’s finger while sleeping and
pawned ft.
“ But how about Nellie V you ask. She,
ton, was guilty of a theft; but I forgave her.
She is now my wife.
ADouble Surprise.—The New York Sun
gives the following particulars of a surprise
party which took place at the residence of a
young widow B., in Hoboken, N. J„ a few
evenings since:
A party of congenial spirits bad arranged
a surprise party for the fun- loving widow,
and had fixed upon a certain evening for
carrying out their design. In the meantime,
the widow had fixed upon the same evening
for uniting her destiny with that of a gay and
festive bachelor from Williamsburg. It was
intended to have the wedding come off se
cretly, as the widow wished to surprise her
friends on the next day by appearing in her
old role of the “wife.” The bridal party,
consisting of the_minister, the widow and a
female friend, the “gay bach” an l r male
friend, had gathered in the hack parlor, the
marriage ceremony was about to commence,
when ting a ling-a ling went the door-bell,
in rushed a bevy of laughing, chatting
belles and beaux, and in ft m'oment the front
parlor was taken possession of by the jolly
group. T.he interesting ceremony to take
place on the other side of the folding doors
was suspended, and the widow, comprehend
ing the situation, resolved not to- wait till
morning before surprisir g her friends, but to
spring the grand roup upon them at once.
Sliding back the double doors, the blushing
bride stood before her astonished visitors,
arrayed in bridal robes, and addressed them
as follows: “My friends, I perceive that you
intend this as a pleasant surprise for my en
joyment, and as one good turn deserves
another, I offer you a surprise in return. As
yon came in I was on the point ot being
married to my friend, Mr. W , of
Williamsburg; please arrange yonreelves
and witness the ceremony.” It is needless to
add that the party remained, and everything
went off as merry as several marriage bell?.
THE CATACOMBS OF PA&XS.
Correspondence of the Pall Mall Gazette.]
Paris, Aug.'17.
It is not easy for the ordinary English
sight-seer in Paris to satisfy his curiosity
ky a descent into the famous catacombs
—difficilis descensus. Formerly one of
the regular sights of this capital, they have
now been closed now to the general pub
lic, and I have met but very few Paris
ians of the younger generation who have
explored those dismal vaults. Four
times a year the metropolitan surveyors
officially inspect the great ossuary, to re
port on the condition of the pillars and
piers which have been built to prop
the excavated galleries, and a select few,
whose application to the Prefect of the
Seine have been backed by influential
recommendations are allowed on these oc
casions to accompany them. Notice that
the expedition is about to proceed is of
ten received many months after the ap
plication has been sent to the Hotel de
Ville, and a prolonged residence in Paris
seems to be an indispensable condition
for obtaining a sight of the catacombs.
I was fortunate enough a few days ago
to accompany one of these periodical vis
its of inspection. The appointed place of
meeting was in the courtyard at the back
of the office for collecting the octroi, at
the former Barriere d’Enfer. M. Nadar,
in the bulky Paris guide which was
printed for the use of visitors to the exhi
bition last year, describes midnight as the
hour usually appointed for these excur
sions, but this is probably merely a liter
ary artifice, destined to throw additional
gloom over his narrative. We met at
noon in considerable numbers, chatting
in every language of Europe, and all pro
vided with candles, railway lamps and
matches. On the arrival of the metro
politan surveyors, the dooy of a low build
ing, which occupies one side of the court
yard, was unlocked, and displayed a steep
flight of narrow step3 leading under
ground. The inspectors mustered the
company, the candles were lit, and one
by one we descended. The hubbub of con
versation was at once hushed. We were
about to visit the silent abodes of tbe
dead. Perhaps some of us involuntarily
remembered ghastly tales of men ho had
lost their way in this subterranean laby
rinth, and had never returned to their
friends and the brignt sunshine above.
Ninety steps led to level ground, and
we walked during twenty minutes or
half an hour through a narrow, damp,
low passage, cut in the calcareous rock.
By raising my hand I could easily touch
the vault above. Right and left we
passed by innumerable openings leading
away into mysterious gloom and silence.
They were each closed with a wooden bar
rier, so that we could not, had we been
tempted, turn from the right path. Sur
veyors opened and closed the march.
We were in the ancient quarries from
which the stone Paris is built of has been
extracted from the Roman period, down
to the reign of Louis XIV. The subter
ranean galleries extend under the sub
urbs of St. Germain, St. Jaques, and St.
Marcel. The neighborhood of the Lux
emburg Palace and Gardens, and of the
Pantheon, are undetermined by them.
But probably they have not the vast ex
tent or depth which popular legend as
cribes to them. Towards the end of last
century great alarm was felt throughout
Paris by the sudden sinking of several
houses near the Barriere d’Enfer. Even
at present, purchasers are shy of investing
in the building plots that have been re
cently created bv the ruthless destruction
of part of the Luxemburg Gardens, in
consequence of the doubtful reputation for
stability of the ground. Since the occur
rence of the accidents above mentioned,
subterranean Paris has been carefully
surveyed by order of the municipal au
thorities. Large sums have been spent
on props and pillars, on piers and but
tresses, and a curious map of the cata
combs has been published bvM. de Four-
cy, O. E. The cellars of M. Dumfeil’s
great brewery occupy galleries of these
old quarries, and persons who are curious
to form an idea of the catacombs of Paris
can do so easily by applying at No. 15
Rue du Marche aux Chevaux, the count
ing-house of the brewer) - . The entrances
to the quarries, of which there were more
than sixty, it is said, have been for the
most part closed.
We reached the gate of the necropolis.
It is painted black, flanked with columns,
and bears the inscription
HAS. ULTRA. METAS. REQUIESCUNT. BEAT-
AM. 8PEM. SPECTAKTES.
The vast ossuary into which we now
entered was formed in the following man
ner : In 178-1 intramural interments were
discontinued in Paris, by an order in
council, and the old church-yard of the
Innocents was first cleared; other burial
places followed, and were closed and clear
ed in their turn. Respect for the dead
is one of the most deeply noted of the re
ligious feelings of the French people, as
every one who has visited the cemetery
of Pere la Chaise knows, and as recent
debates in the Senate, on the proposed
removal of part of the cemetery of Mont-
marte, prove. A Frenchman who neg
lects to visit the tomb of his parents, and
at least once a year to decorate it with
wreaths, is very ill-thought of; and the
utilitarians in France have not yet been
successful in demonstrating to theircoun-
trymen that old church-yards are but
quarries of phosphate of lime. The
bones were carefully removed at the end
of the last century from the closed Par
isian church-yards at night, in long
trains of funeral cars hung with black,
accompanied by priests bearing wax
torches, and chanting the litames of the
dead. The old quarries were found by
the Parisians the most conveuient place
in the neighborhood for preserving and
ptotecting from desecration the remains
of their forefathers, and a portion of the
subterranean labyrinth was solemnly
consecrated to be used as a cemetery.
In a garden of the Rue de la Tombe Is-
soire a shaft has been sunk into the cat
acombs. Here the long procession halted,
the carts were hacked, tilted, and their
contents shot down the shaft. This work
continued at intervals during many
nights.
In 1810, and the following years after
the restoration of Christian worship in
France, the catacombs were surveyed,
pillars were built, and drains made to
carry off the water. The bones were
carefully arranged along the walls of the
vaults, keeping distinct the cemeteries
from which they were originally brought.
Theskulls form three rows in most places;
the space between them is filled by the
large arm and leg bones, carefully piled;
the ribs, vertabra?, and all the smaller
bones fill in promiscuous heaps the space
left between the rows of skulls and the
rock. In many of tlie recesses or chapels
which we passed, the workmen employed
in arranging these ghastly objects have
indulged their sense for the beautiful, and.
have built up ornamented and variea
designs with the horrid fragments at
their disposal. Inscriptions on stone in
dicate the cemeteries from which the re
mains have come. All human bones
brought to light by the actual rebuilding
of Paris are conveyed to the catacombs.
The most recent additions appear to have
been contributed in 1861, by the ceme- .
tery ofVaurigard. At equal distances
stone tablets are set up, with inscribed
sentences on life, death and eternitv, se
lected from Holy Writ, Thomas a’lf emp-
is, Seneca and the Latin authors, from
Lamartine, Delille, from Ducius, and
even inferior poets. My wish to copy
some of them was somewhat uncivilly
interrupted by one of the surveyors tell
ing me that we could not pass the whole
day underground. On one of the princi
pal pillars are carved the words—me
mento. quia, pulvis. es. And on a
well which occupies apparently the cen
ter of the labyrinth, sicut unda. dies.
Nostri. fltjxerunt. The concentrated
light of all our caudles failed to reveal
the unhappy gold-fish which are said to
enliven its waters. A collection of dis
eased bones, which are kept separate,
would be of more use to suffering human
ity in the glass cases of a pathological
museum than in these inaccessable re
cesses.
It is impossible to retain from the
thought that among the rows of skulls
which grin upon us from right and left
as we pass along, some must have belonged
to the most eminent men in France and
adorned the salons of Paris bv the brains
which they once contained. To heighten
our interest, we were told by one of the
inspectors that the skull of Louis Philip
pe Egalite was undoubtedly among
those which had been brought from the-
churchyard of the Rue de la Ville l’Eye-
que. No doubt, an experienced: phrenol
ogist would confidently point it out. It
is computed that about three millions of
skulls, if not more, adorn the walls of the
catacombs of Paris. To us, the dark gal
leries through which we wandered seeped :
to form an intricate labyrinth, but, some-'
how or other, they led us back to the black
gate by which we had entered. We
passed, about two hours among the shades
below, and were heartily glad to see the
daylight again.
■ Tea as a Medical Stimulant.—The
last number of the Boston Medical and
Surgical Journal contains an interesting
cotcmunication upon the action of them
on the human system. Thein is an inte
gral part of tea, and gives to that herb
its peculiar force as a stimulant. It is
also found in coffee, and in certain South
American plants, whose leaves are used
to prepare a table beverage. The author
of the article in question made several ex
periments of thein upon human cases.
It was found that in every instance the
pulse was lowered, a nervous tremulous
ness followed, and special mental activi
ty was noticeable. One gentleman, un
der the influence of this alkaloid, spoke
emphatically of his “increased brain pow
er, enabling him to read certain books,
which hehad before accounted as abstruse,
with the greatest ease, and an extraordi
nary power of grasping the subject with
out any effort, as he read rapidly on.”
The testimony of one of the most power-.
ful writers among our New England wo
men is also adduced. Her testimony was
to the effect that “some hours after taking
a large quantity of tea, she felt that there
was nothing, left but her head, which fur
nished rapidly language of ideas of the
best quality, and in good quantity, all
night long.” In its radical form thein is em
ployed as a sedative. This, by the way,
appears something like a strong allopa
thic indorsement of Hahneman’s theory.
It cures neuralgic headaches, where pills
are objected to. Them ointment for the
hair is found to have like effect. Pas-
tiles made with thine, when burnt in a
room, are said to produce au equally
soothing effect to irritable nerves.'
Besources of the South.—Some idea
of the immense resources of , the South
and its recuperative qualities may he de
rived from a statistical statement lately
published by Alexander Delmar. It is
there shown that on June SO, 1866, the
population of the South amounted to 9,-
568,706, and of all the States together to
34,505,882; that the exports of the South
for that vear amounted to $212,000,000,
whereas’in 1820, the entire population of
the United States scarcely exceeded that
of the South forty years* after, and the
entire exports only amounted to $51,000,-
000. In 1850, with a population of 23,-
000,000, the exports of the United States
only reached $136,000,000. The South
now, with not one-half the population;
exports annually, double that sum. No
where else upon the earth do such ele
ments of latent prosperity exist; and en
tirely undeveloped as yet remains by far
the largest proportion of its territory, and
it plainly snows that an industrial popu
lation, honestly laboring, will, in a com
paratively short time, raise it to the most
prosperous the sun ever shown upon.
The only thing requisite is to be relieved
from political annoyances and disabili
ties, and then bend' our united energies to
its development. This course pursued,
the reaping hook will soon conquer what
the sword lost to us.—Augusta Ckremicfa
and Sentinel. A