J. H. & \V. 33. ISE AX.S, f PKOPRiaTORS.
ATLANTA, 61., SATURDAY, JUNE 15, 1878.
r PTT , T>AYQ ■! PEK ANNUM I
1 JliliMb, i IN ADVANCE, f
ORAN6K AND THE
BY W. T. IirMAJ.
Tlie gardens of the West were sung.
And dreamed of by the bards of
Far in the Atlantic, where there
From drooping boughs that fruit
The skies they fabled here enshrine,
The plains of orange, hills ot vine.
Beneath the orange and the vine,
Beneath the lillies where they
Unnumbered treasures wait to
When ye release them from their
Then dig the ore, and search tlio
Enrich the land where grows tha
Behold your fields! this fertile soil
Teems with the virtue hid below;
It needs but steady honest toil,
And all Campania's wealth will
Arise then ! why do ye repine
Along groves of orange, hills of
The plow can make, the pen pre
The treasures that will crown us
We fear no king, no tyrant serve.
We are all monarclis of the West;
Then send your fame from pole to
Men of the orange and the vine !
The moss around your harp-frame
The b* oken chords are useless
Tear off the moss, repair the
And see what melodies will flow. AAf
Or do you think the sacred Nine
Have left the orange and the vine?
The pine tree waves on ev'ry hill,
And sighs to every gentle gale,
Andean its lie >unitul iniif-ic thrill
A’o minstrel’s heart with such a jfitjT**'®
Which breathes of thoughts and
Where grows the orange and the
the lyre ? then loving
■ your trembling strings
Tiust me inspiring beauties sluno
Best ’neatli the oiangcaud the vine.
f the West,
ion thy mountains
O fair Atlantis
The sun shin
The storms tliemselv
Ere these thy guardain shores are
The stars on thee the brightest
Thee of the orange and the vine!
front, and men in groups in
the yard or on the piazza,
most of them carelessly or
roughly dressed, dusty and
travel-stained, with boots
thrust on over their pants and
minus their coilars or other
neck gear, showing in wime
haste they had leaped on their
horses and ridden here in an
swer to Alver's summons. It
seemed as if the old Confed
erate days had come back —
Cobb’s rough heart was stir
red. ‘Halloo Boys ! where’s
camp ?’ he said as he passed
a group. When he reached
Alver’s house, the yard was
full of men who had been
eating supper, at a long table
spread for them on the back
gallery. Floyd Beese was
helping to wait on them. She
was bringing out a large
white pitcher of milk as Cobb
sauntered up and seated him
self on the edge of the gal
lery. The loess sleeves of
blue muslin fell away Aom
her round arms, her dark
gold hair was breeze-blown
into little rings on her fore
head. She looked a lovely
Hebe, innocent of anything
but gay and cheerful service.
‘Give me a draught, fair
ministering spirit,’ Cobb said
as she passed near him.
As she stooped to pour it,
he looked up into her eyes
Our City Cousins—What they wear, and how cheap yet Stylish it is.—[Ste Demoresf for Jim?.)
Study of Western Life.
BY MAllY E. BRYAN,
Meantime, the trial of the prisoners by a com-
mitte of citizens went rapidly on. They were
found guilty of corrupt administration, which
no doubt was a true bill, as they were the agents
—in most instances the blind agents—of Witch-
ell. They followed the directions; they worked
out the plans of this man who obeyed no law in
his operations but his own will. Though ostensi
bly Witchell’s only office was that of Representa
tive in the Senate from a certain district, yet he
was really the autocrat of the new parish he
had created. He levied taxes and received the
money collected, he managed the judiciary and
controlled all verdicts of consequence; he influ
enced the legislation of the parish and exercised
a close supervision over ail its public affairs.
He was a Francia in a small sphere, and he
possessed over these men he had put in office
an influence similar to that wielded by the South
American Dictator. The magnetism of a strong
spirit controlled them more thoroughly than did
gratitude, friendship, or interest, and they
worked out his policy, with as little thought oi
calling in question its wisdom or its justice as
a soldier under the First Napoleon would have
had of inquiring into the motives or tendency
of his general’s orders.
They were the instruments Witchell had used
to work out his schemes of avarice and ambition.
They were true to him as steel. It was part of
his retribution that these friends should suffer
for his sins.
But the committee of judges also found these
six parish officers guilty of inciting the negroes
to a plot to murder and outrage the whites.
This was not plausible. There was no reason
able motive apparent tor such an act. What good
could come to the Radicals from an out-break
that would be sure to be referred to them, and
would inflict great inj ury upon the Radical cause
in the parish and throughout the State. As yet,
there had been no demonstration of any riot
bejond the shot fired by the negro at the young
patrollers, and no evidence of the complicity ot
the white officers except this negro’s assertion
that he was put up to what he did by the Radi
cals, together with the fact that certain negroes
were seen the night of the anticipated riot in
the vicinity of Omar Witcln ll’s house.
Yet so black did the guilt of the officers loom
up in theagitated minds of these judges—honest
in their intentions, but fevered by excitement
—that tbe voices of several were for instant
death. It was noticeable that Alver was less
excited and more moderate. He had the ap
pearance of pouring oil on the troubled waters.
He listened nervously to the shouts of the
mob- Was he dismayed* by the violence of the
tempest he had called up 7 He seemed relieved
when the question of death-punishment was
’ set aside, and this arrangement substituted—
that the Radical officers should resign their
offices and leave the state within the next
twenty-four hours, pledging themselves by oath
never to enter it again.
This decision was carried to the prisoners.
They understood well that death was the only
alternative to their acceptance. They consult
ed together and agreed to abide by the condi
tions, provided a guard should be furnished
them which should see them safely out of the
state. This was at once acceeded to by Alver.
There was some grumbling among the crowd
at the leniency of the verdict.
For, be it again repeated, that these men
who had ridden in such wild haste to quell, as
they thought, a bloody riot in Cohatchie, be
lieved that such a riot was intended and that it
was instigated by the Radicals, Only after
wards, when the wild tumult was over and the
deed was dome, did a glimmering suspicion
that they had been mistaken or misled dawn
upon them to make them shudder—stout hearts
as they were—at the fear that they had been too
In this miniature parish revolution was seen
the working of the same natural law il
lustrated in such bloody characters in the great
French Reign of Terror. In this as in that,
one evil had drawn down another. Corrupt
rule long endured, had at last brought the swift
punishment of the mob—a delirium of ven
geance, in which nice distinctions between
guilt and incidental fault were wholly lost
sight of. Such is the law of nature. Sanitary
neglect brings down the jrestilence; luxury
breeds enervation and decay Such are Na
So it was that these bronzed and beardedmen
gathered before the door, behind which sat the
prisoners, rebelled against the leniency of the
sentence, as Alver well knew they would do.
‘Better, a great sight, string them up yonder
along side the niggers and be done with it,’
muttered several voices, and in each instance
Cobb’s watchful eye singled out the speakers
and photographed their faces on his mind.
‘Let ’em go,’ said a deep, concentrated voice
behind him, ‘Give ’em that guard, but advise
them to insure their lives before they start.
Something might happen on the way. Blamed
if it mightn’t; I have heard of such things, and
I’m awfully scared for them.’
Cobb turned quickly and looked at the man
who had spoken—a slender, swarthy man, hie
face half hid by grizzled whiskers, in the midst
of which his bloodshot-eyes gleamed luridiy;
yet there was an indescribable hint of birth and
culture in his looks and carriage.
Cobb dropped back along side of him.
‘Here’s my hand on them sentiments, friend,’
he said, low. ‘What’s your name, if I may
‘Dick,’ returned the other.
‘Nothing but Dick ?’
‘They put Cap’n to it on the Mexican border,
where I’ve come from. I used to have another
name, somewhat known in these parts, but nev
er mind it now. Nobody seems to recognize
me, and it's just as well; I’ve only oome to see
how time’s serving some folks I have an inter
‘The Radicals for instance.’
‘Yes, the Radicals for instance—one of them
in particular. The big dog of the pack is not
here, I find. I owe him a debt with four year's
interest. I’d have a chance of paying it now, it
he was here. But he’s slipped off—the sneak,
and left this small fry to pay for his sins and
their own too. Let them pay too—I say. A
pretty thing it is to raise this great rnmpus,
and then only to send the scamps safely off
with all their ill-got gains in tneir pockets.’
‘You are right. I must See you again. Meet
me here to-night? These men won t leave till
sunrise to-morrow. There’ll be a crowd around
here all night; but we and some others ■will
have a chance to get off aside, and have a talk
among ourselves. Have you a good horse?’
‘Yes, a capital little mustang.’
‘That’s well: meet me at this corner at seven
‘I’ll be there,’ said the man, who was no oth
er than Lanier, back from his four year’s so
journ in Mexico—swarthier, thinner and more
sinister of look; with beard and hair prema
turely gray. He had not been six hours in his
native neighborhood, and ‘had made himself
known to no one when Alver’s dispatch
came, and all a-fire with the hope of seeing
himself at last revenged upon the man who had
crossed him in the fierce desire of his heart, he
rode in hot haste tojCobatchie, and cursed the
luck when he found that the husband of the
dead Adelle was not among the prisoners.
When Cobb turned off from the crowd col
lected around the building in which the offi
cers were confined, he took his way down the
street. He stopped a moment,as he came to
Omar Witchell’s house—the neat little home
he had built for his bride. APeady there were
about it tokens of a woman’s refined taste—the
flower beds in the yard, the young vines train
ing across the piazza, the bird .-age among the
pots of blooming plants in the window. But
the singing of the canary' was now the only
cheery sound about the little home. The wives
of the four married officers stood together on
the piazza, but they were not speaking. They
were waiting in agonized suspense for news
concerning the fate of their husbands. Through
all that dreadful day their anguish had been
greater than that of the prisoners. Every shout
from the mob rent their hearts like a death
knell. The trampling of the horses in the
street as parties of armed mea rode by, the
noise of the crowd, as they earned the negroes
to the gallows, struck them dumb and tremb
ling with apprehension.
Cobb leaned on the paliug and looked at them.
Omar’s wife stood with her locked hands rest
ing on the railing—her whit, Dee, her small,
childish figure leant forward as if intent to
catch some sight or sound that, should convey
a hope to her heart. Devene’s young bride
with her Southern nature less capable of con
trol-walked the piazza wringing her hands,
and crying. The two sisters of Witchell were
quiet. Mrs. Wallace, pale with compressed
mouth, stood at the back of the chair in which
her younger sister sat. Mrs. Holliu had her arms
about her child, holding him to her, her head,
with all its golden hair desheveled, bowed upon
the flaxen locks of the boy.
While Cobb looked on, the expected message
of the gallery. There was
one within hearing of their
‘Cobb,’ said Floyd, leaning
towards him, ‘are you certain
of being able to carry this out
to-morrow? There’ll be a
_ ‘A fig for tko guard . I*
Hinder’, i'yb ts'pmtewIF not
fellows among these here
that'll see me out in the busi
ness, and we’re looking for a
livelier crowd to-night from
over tlio Texas line. A dis
patch has been sent there and
they’ll be here to-night by
the bayou Prince road. May
— ~-— :: = ■■■■■— —— be they’ll have a brush with
came. Aman galloped np on horseback. Mrs. ! the darkeys down below l exre taey get h..re,
Devene sprang to meet him and returned hold- j to whet their appetites tor more tun.
out a note.
‘For you’ she said, looking at Mrs, Witchell.
‘Shall I read it aloud Minnie ?’
A quick gesture of assent answered her, Mrs.
‘What do you mean ?
i ‘Whv, word came just now that Levi Adams
j was gathering np a gang of negroes down the
I river on the other side, and has seized all the
i flats and was threatening to burn and rob and
We have resigned onr offices, and are to leave J kill generally, in revenge tor the niggers hung
here and the darkeys and the Radicals weva
‘An exaggerated report of course.
‘No; I reckon it’s true. Adams is a smart;
devil-may-care darkey; a leader among the ne
groes. They are stirred up in a perfect ferment
with the news of the armed men in Cohatchie
and the arrestin’ and ban gin . uhey
may do damage, though there’s only a few
white families down there now. All have come
into Cohatchie that could get away. The fellow
that brought the news is staying at the 5 in-
cent’s. He says they are all sick there. He
came to get medicine, but Alver will not give
him a permit to return. He has arrested |him
and put him under guard for disorderly con
duct. The fellow had taken a dram or two and
was a little noisy and talkative—that was all.
I can’t make out why Alver had him taken np.
•I can,’ said Floyd. ‘I know who the man is,
and why he was arrested. I thought we had got
rid of both those fellows. If they can’t be forced
to quit the parish, they ought to be scared
into holding their tongues.’
Floyd gave not a thought to the distress and
possible danger of tbe Vincents, who had been
so kind to her,—to Zoe, whom she called friend*
Sho only thought, ‘if the negroes do commit any
violence there, all the better for my scheme, au
the more color will bo given to the pretext we
are to render for the steps that have been taken,
But another thought came into her mind:
‘Have any of the men been sent down in that
direction ?’ she asked.
‘None; and it will be wondered at that nobody
has been sent to the very quarter where it^ was
first reported that a riot was gathering, It s an
*Yes, parties must ride down there to-morrow.
‘By that time,’ she thought, ‘it is safe to sup
pose the negroes will make some demonstration.
They had spoken low but eyes were turning
in their direction, and she moved away with her
pitcher. She turned back to ask,
‘Have you seen Col. Alver?’
‘Only for a moment.’
‘I see him coming this way. Mind what I
have told you, not one word to him of what will
‘I shall mind; but, between us now., dees he
not know ?’
‘He does not. He may suspect but, if ne
does, he has not said so even to me. Let it bo
so; we do not need his help. You have seen
that the intentions he has expressed concerning
the prisoners are peaceable.’
‘Hell’s paved with such peaceable intentions:
muttered the desperado with an uubeliveing
grin, as he turned away.
It was growing dusk, nearly time for his ren
dezvous with the men he had picked out to-day
with his sharp, evil eye—The crowd was gather
ing more densely around the place of the
(Continued on 8th page.)
the state upon oath not to enter it again. There
was no alternative. It was to do this or die.
‘Resign only to save your lives’ was my broth
er’s instruction, We leave tomorrow at sun
rise, I trust to God, we shall be permitted to
see you and say goodbye, but do not be disap
pointed if this is not to be. I will see Hayne
if I can and get him to intercede that the favor
be granted us—the only one I shall ask—to go
to you and say farewell. Y'ou can not come
to ns here, through th* mob. It would not
be permitted and you must not attempt it,
I have not been able to speak to Hayne. He
will not come to me, though I have sent for him,
and called him when I saw him in the crowd.
And I thought him my true friend. But do not
fear for us, we will be safe. A guard of our
own choosing will accompany us; sviil see us
safely out of the State. Don’t distress yourself
any more dearest. Be brave and strong. Think
of the time when we will be reunited, and
among our old friends. Alver has given ns his
word of honor that our wives shall be protected
and cared for, and every facility allowed them
for joining ns as soon as we are in a place of
safety. I will write to you to-night, and tell
you at length what to do and what to send me.
We have been furnished with pens and paper
and will each of us write to-night. Don’t wor
ry; all will be right. Yours,
‘Thank God ! it is not what we dreaded,’ cried
the impulsive wife of Devene. ‘Let them leave
this country. Who would stay in it after this?
I will follow Rob with all my heart, or I wil go
with him. Why should we not go with them ?
‘We may not even be allowed to see them
before they go,’ Airs. Wallace said.
‘I will see my husband. They shall not keep
me back. What not let me tell him good bye ?
Could any one be so cruel ?’
Omar’s little wife said nothing audibly. Her
lips moved as she sank into a seat; sho motioned
for the note and took it in her bands and fixed
her eyes on the lines written by the beloved
Witehel’s sisters moved oh to tne end of the
piazza and looked into each other’s face3—a
look of mutual, dreary understanding.
‘They will choose the guard themselves, Airs.
Hollin said at last, with an effort at reassuring.
The older si J tsr smiled bitterly. ‘They will
choose !' she said. ‘What choice is there ? 'Who
among all those men yonder dare befriend them
if they wished to ? Hayne will not come near
them —Hayne that Omar treated like a brother:
who sat at his table and shared his purse, often
and often again. I have little hope from the
fact that they will choose their guard.’
‘Your head’s level there, my Y’ankee Aladam,’
Cobb said to himself as he moved off and turned
up into a street running back of the Alain or
River Street. Every house he passed had
horses tied to the paling or to the trees in