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THE CARTERSVILLE COURANT.
VOLUME 1.
For lux (Jour axt.
Reminiscences of tbe Cherokees.
By HUS. J. W. 11. UKDKBWOOD, of Rome,
Georgia.
CHAPTER VII.
Copyrighted. All righto reserved.J
For tan years Underwood and William
Martin were in the habit of attending
the Inferior Court of Union county.
They were rivals. One lived at Clarks
ville, Ffie other at Dahlonega. Each had
a local partner at Blairsville. These lo
cal attorneys would contract for the re
tainer and than they (Underwood and
Martin) would go over and argue the
legal questions before the Inferior Court.
This august tribunal was composed of
five farmeis, who generally lesr
than nothing about law. The period of
which we are writing, from 1836 to 1850,
was in the days of hard times—the finan
cial distress was consequent on the panic
of ’37 —when all the banks suspended
with a few exceptions. In that mountain
region money was painfully scarce. A
few stores, with meagre stocks of goods,
retailed them at from 50 to 300 per cent,
profit,and credited out in small sums up to
thirty dollars, which at that time was the
limit of the jurisdiction of a Justice of
the Peace.
Imprisonment for debt was then g
statute of Georgia. When a case under
u Justice of the Peace's jurisdiction was
sued,if the defendant had no property ex
cept such as was exempt from levy and
sale, tiie plaintiff would sue out a capiat
ad aatisfacAendum, usually called a earn.
The defendant would be arrested and
thrown into the common jail, unless he
could give a good bond hi double the
amount of the debt, for his appearauce
at court to take the benefit of the insol
vent oath after the filing of a schedule
of and surrendering all his property
to be sold to pay ids debts.
A firm of merchants, Elisha Carroll
and Francis Logan, had a small store at
Blairsville, where they sold goods, sued
to judgment, took out casa'a, and the
defendants were bound oyer to the In
ferior Court.
When one court came on, the inexpe
rienced young lawyer who had been re
tained, had failed to tile the schedule in
time and give the notices required by
law, and in this dilemna the ingenuity
of the counsel for defendant was the sole
reliance, and some defect in the proceed
ings had to be found in order to have the
cases dismissed.
As before stated, the court being com
posed of Sve common people, unused to
the law, they sympathized with the poor
debtors, (as they were elected by them.)
If any sort of a plan was urged, no mat
ter how ridiculous, the court always de
cided in luvor of Uio defendants. Their
sympathies governed their judgments.
Martin, who was an indomitable worker,
would take one of the cases to the Supe
rior Court, and iiave the judgment of
dismissal removed and set aside. At the
next session of the Juferior Court, the
same oases would be on docket again for
trial and in the same condition. The de
fendants would give bond and rely on
Underwood to dismiss the cases again,
which he was always able to do.
Things went on this way for several
years. Martin had by this time pro
cured decisions of the Superior Court on
every point that could be made.
The December term of 1845 came on.
When Underwood arrived at Blairsville,
there was four inches of snow on the
ground. Directly after he got to the Are
and was warming himself, Hon. John
Martin, one of the Judges of the Inferior
Court, came to his room and seemed very
glad to see him. After the usual com
pliments aad after the usual chew had
been put off and adjusted to lijs mouth,
be proceeded to say i
“Well, Underwood, they have got the
the boys all up here again.”
“I am sorry to hear it, as Billy Martin
has got us so hampered and hemmed in
that we shall have a hard time with these
cases.”
‘‘But, ’Squire,” says Martin, “the pro
ceedings is all wroqg again, l know that
much, myself.”
“Wbat’s the matter, now?”
‘‘Why, the bond*for their appearance
at court is not witnessed by * Justice of
the Peace.”
“Now, can that be so?” said Under
wood affecting great delight.
“That’s so, to a certainty. I have just
been to the Clerk’s office and have scojd
them all,” replied the Judge.
“If that’s so,” said Underwood, “of
goqrse its fata) tq the papers, and the
cases will have to be dismissed again.”
The Judge went out well satisfied.
Underwood, however, saw it was a
serious thing. He studied and worried,
until the perspiration oozed out in great
drops. At length a luminous idea lodged
in his braiu. If the Inferior Court was
a court ot record, which it was, all the
proceedings should be recorded. No in
strument or paper can go on record un
less witnessed by a Justice of the Peace,
or proven before such officer by witness
to the paper. As these bonds were not
witnessed, and there was no witness who
had exeo|faMt It before a Justice of the
Jtesce, were therefore void and
could be illustrated by the oase of a deed.
The court at ten o'clock convened in
due form of law. One of the cases was
called.
Uudsrwood made his point on the line
stated. He affected great confidence, not
without reason, as he knew the feelings
of the leading members of the court, and
ilwt they were wtfc him-
Counsel on the other side replied,
drawing a distinction between a bond
and a deed—there was a positive statute
requiring the witnesses or the probate by
one of the witnesses, if one was not a
Justice of the Peace, etc.
When Underwood rose to reply, the
court stopped him and dismissed all the
canes again.
I tell you there was a great rejoicing
after the dismissal. They had an egg
nogg and also a wash-pot full of whisky
stew. All hands joined in, plaintiffs, de
fendants, court, jury and Lawyers, out
siders and everybody.
When night came on the ladies of the
village assembled at the hotel. The fid
dle and the dance lasted until midnight
and long after. That Christmas will
never be forgotten. About midnight
Judge Martin remarked: ‘‘By golly!
boys! I’m some Judge, myself!” Those
were good old days.
“Kgg-nogg and ’sinimon beer,
Christmas comes but once a year.”
But the end was not yet. Billy Mar
tin carried that case to the Supreme
Court, and to the utter disgust of Judge
Martin, of the Inferior Court, his de
cision was again reversed.
Six months rolled around and the
“boys,” as Judge Martin called them,
were again arrested, bound over to court,
and the prospect was exceedingly
gloomy. The Inferior Court had juris
diction in all cases except criminal and
equity cases, and cases respecting the ti
tles to land, concurrent with the Supe
rior Court. Merchants in Augusta and
Charleston having claims against the
country merchants in Union county,
which were unpaid, had sen! them to
Martin and Underwood for collection.
Each had instituted abeut the same num
ber of cases, thirteen or fourteen, to that
term of the court.
Underwood had examined into the
casa, and every possible quibble had been
put out of the way by the decisions of
the Superior Court, and his next hope
was to move to dissolve the court on the
ground that it was unconstitutionally or
ganized. But he had also cases on the
docket that ought to be called or a term
would be lost.
lie saw Martin and proposed that the
appearance cases should first be called, to
which Martin agreed, as both were
equally interested. He told Martin also
that he Intended to move to dissolve the
court in order to save his clients, who
were again arrested on casas, from going
to jail.
When court convened, both said to the
court that they desired the appearauce
cases to be first called.. (These cases
were only to be answered to and were
not for trial at the first term.) Accord
ingly it was so ordered. After this pro
ceeding was over, the motion was made
to dissolve the court on the ground that
it was not constitutionally organized.
Underwood made his argument, but
cannot give it here, for in all tinman
probability the like of It was never heard
before or since, and perhaps will never
be egaln, but if y.tii judge by results it
was a good speech. Martin replied with
all his power and ability, but it availed
nothing. If the vital principles of our
constitution had been set aside by the
organization of a court, the court prompt
ly decided that the constitution had been
disregarded in the organization of a
court. An order was taken to dissolve
the court, after which Jacob Capehart,
the oldest member of the court, and who
sat in the middle of the fiye, adjusted his
spectacles on his nose, and said in a fine,
squeaking voice, “Now, we must go
back and scratch out all we have done,”
opening the docket.
‘‘No, no!” exclaimed both Under
wood and Martin, “what lias been done
since the opening of the court is both
legal and proper!”
‘‘No it ain’t,” squeaked out Capehart.
‘‘You told us the court was unconstitu
tional, and we are sworn to support tho
constitution.”
\yith this he dashed the pen across all
the cases and struck out all that had been
done.
The laugh oatue in here at the expense
of Underwood,and as the treats were his,
all went out to take refreshments.
The hand of reform has come along
and the Inferior Court has been abolished
and a substitute appointed which utterly
fails to supply its place. The Inferior
Court did not cost the people a dollar,
ft was composed of persons who were
anxious for an opportunity to manifest
their capacity for govern mental aflairs.
To be a Judge of the Inferior Court was
a stepping stone to a seat in the Legisla
ture.
We have told you something of Maj.
Walker in an earlier paper. He moved
from Lincoln county to Rabun. He bad
first been a Methodist class-leader, then
he he preached awhile, afterwards turn
ing to the law.
Soon after he arrived in Clayton—the
county town of Rabun—Allan Justice
was sued in an action of trespass vt et
armis —charged with killing a hog.
Walker was employed for the defense.
The proof was about this: the hog,
which weighed between twenty and
pounds, in size and shape something
like anopoesom, broke into the cornfield
of Mr. Justice, and he shot and killed it.
The property belonged to Mr. John C.
York, who was the plaintiff. There was
conflicting evidence as to the quality of
the fence around the field. The corn
was in the roasting-ear state. Walker
was particularly anxious to make a good
impression, as it was his first speech in
the county. He was apparently of the
opinion that the people were ignorant,
and stupid, and he set out to make a
reputation that would last him in de
fending the Ase.
After he had cleared away the brush,
he proceeded: “Gentlemen of the jurv,
the plaintiff is endeavoring to recover
damages for a trespass ti et armis —Latin
words, gentlemen, which mean by force
of arms, and in order to recover the plain
tiff must eharge and prove the damage—
and also prove that my client did the act.
CARTERSVILLE, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, APRIL 23, 1885.
Now, gentlemen, where is the proof? In
the first place, the hog might have died a
natural death. He might have done
himself violence. St. Paul once said:
‘Friend, do thyself no harm,” on a mem
orable occasion. It might have been a
case of felo da —suicide —who knows?
It is true, one witness says he saw a hole
in the hog’s head, but that is only a mat
ter of opinion, gentlemen. The witness
must speak facts, not opinions, in pur
suance of the law. If the hog was shot,
who shot it? The witness says he saw
Mr. Justice running, with his gun in his
hand, and heard a report of a gun, and
saw smoke about where my client was,
but does that prove he shot that gun ?
Might not another person have shot off
that gun? Everybody in this country
has a gun. It is true, he says he did not
see another person in the field. Ah ! he
didn’t, did he? Neither you or I saw
any other parson in the field. What does
that amount to nothing simply
nothing. Suppose he did shoot. Couldn’t
he shoot at a deer or a wild turkey ? Oh!
gentlemen, pause long before you find a
verdict against my client on such flimsy
evidence as this.
“Suppose he did shoot the hog! I con
tend lie is perfectly justifiable. This hog
may have been a biting hog, and by
Jupiter! I’d shoot any hog or sheep that
tried to bite me. He is justifiable on an
other ground. I hold the law to author
ize the shooting of any old sow that
traverses these wild woods and flowery
rales, or any barrow who roams through
these romantic mountains in all his native
dignity as free as the zephyrs that fan
his noble brow. Yes, he was justifiable
in shooting such animals as come In a
cornfield, in the roasting-ear state, and
breaks through and steals.”
The mountain philosophers heard him
reach his grand climax, and roared with
hearty laughter. They could measure a
man, and his intellect as correctly as old
Tattersall could measure a horse. Their
perception was of the keenest, and their
native common sense can decide readily
between justice and folly. As for an ap
preciation of the ridiculous, they are
hardly, equalled. Dr. H. Y. M. Miller
and Judge Logan E. Bleckly were born
and raised amidst these grand old moun
tains, that almost kiss the sky. Those
who are reared amidst mountains never
lose their attachment for them. No po
sition in life; no cushioned seat of honor
or chaplet of fame, obliterates from their
minds these familiar companions of their
youth.
The McGregor’s and Rhoderick Dhu’s
were born in the crags and heather of
Scotia, and Burns found his Highland
Mary among these ancient hills around
the “Castle of Montgomery,” and I, too,
love the mountains, where I met my fate
when our hearts were young and tender—
“ln the sunny days of childhood,
When life was in ua>.s,
\v> *rijiped it through the Wildwood
Like the gentle, bounding fawn,
Our hearts were knit together
By a deep and tender tie;
Nor thought us then tnat ever
Our youthful love could ever die.”
To its praise, be it said, it has never
grown cold or died, but burns with in
creasing fervor, in spite of the frosts and
storms of forty winters.
You will find another philosophical
truth in regard to these mountaineers.
They are more attached to their families—
“wife, children and friends” —than the
dwellers in the lowlands.
These people, as a rule, have no fine
houses, broad acres, or piles of gold to
love. Their affections are concentrated
on each other, and rsaches an intensity
unknown to the rich and great.
In the lowly-thatched cottage true love
is found, and affection finds there a
spring that never runs dry.
My professional and official daties rob
me of tlie opportunity to stroll along the
banks of the Chattahoochee and Tallulah
as in the days of yore, but I never return
to the scenes of my boyhood’s early days
without feeling an elasticity of spirits
that I never enjoy elsewhere. Its associ
ations are ever refreshing, and its
scenery invigorating. The recollections
of my youth are as fresh as they are
sweet, and I often long for the deep
tangled wildwood, the ripple of the
limpid mountain streams, “to chase the
wild deer and follow the roe.”
To return from sentiment to hard facts,
there resided in Clarksville from the
year 1838 to 1557 four lawyers, who
practiced in the Western and also the
adjoining portions of the Cherokee Cir
cuit—M. J. Walker, John R. Stanford,
Thompson Allan and John W. H. Un
derwood. At the time of which we
write, Mr. Allan had been married but a
short time. He was very proud of his
young weakness not uncommon
to the sex. On Sunday’s after breakfast
he employed the early hours in reading
history aloud until the time arrived to go
to church.
One Sunday morning he tackled Gre
cian history, finding a good many names
like Demosthenes, ending in es. Read
ing along, with this in his mind, he be
gun a sentence which read thus: “Be
sides, he had an impediment in hi3
speech.” Allan read it “Bes-i-Jees,”
as though besides was a proper name,
putting the accent on the last syllable.
Mrs. Allan laughed so immoderately
that Allan became embarrassed, until he
discovered the mistake, and then he join
ed in the laugh himself.
They told Underwood of the fun they
had had, and when Allan, Underwood
and Stanford started to Lumpkin court
on Monday morning, they enjoyed the
Besides story again.
Maj. Walker was a very peculiar man.
He knew mauy things and professed to
know the balance. Underwood propos
ed to his companions that they try it on
the Major. “There is no doubt, gentle
men,” says I, “that Maj. Walker knows
a!l about Besides—you and I, Col. Stan
ford, will say to him that we have made
Ia bet of a bottle of wine, as to whether
i ‘Besides’ was one of the Grecian orators
or whether he was a general, and we
I have agreed to allow lfim to decide it,
from memory alone.”
To this all agreed. As soon as we
overtook Maj. Walker we stated the sub
: ject of controversy. Said I, **Maj or, I
say, Besides was a Grecian orator, Stan
ford says, he wa* a Grecian General, and
you are the umpire to decide the bet.”
; Stanford remarked, “We both knew you
to be perfectly familiar with Grecian his
tory, and you could tell us exactly which
1 was right.”
j Walker rode slowly along for a couple
of hundred yards, with his head to one
side, as if he was thinking deeply and
earnestly. Suddenly raising hts head, as
If it was as plain as daylight to him, he
whirled around in his saddle, saying to
Uunderwuod: “John, Stan is right,
‘Besidees’ was one of the Grecian Gen
erals. Don’t you remember be was the
General who supplanted Thernistocles at
the battle of Salamis?”
All hands looked wise and pretended
to remember the circumstance, compli
menting Walker on his historical erudi
tion and attainments, all of which they
enjoyed immensely when they were left
to themselves. The story was told tp
Dougherty, Hillyer, the two Cobbs, the
two Peeples, Hull and others, to their
great amusement.
It grew with its growth and finally the
secret leaked out until Maj. Walker got
hold of it. Then we stopped it tor a
spell, About a year afterwards Judge
Junius Hillyer was judge of the Western
Circuit, living at the time at the “Cow
pens,” in Walton county. He oarried
his step-daughter, Miss Emily Foster, a
very charming young lady, with him on
the circuit to Habersham and Rabun
court. At Habersham court, Mrs Stan
ford joined the party and went on to
Rabun. The lawyers went to Rabun
court, principally for amussment. At
the time mentioned there were present,
besides the ladies and the Judge, Stan
ford, Walker, Howell and T. R. R. Cobb,
W. J. Peeples, W. 11. Hull and Under
wood.
An old gentleman in town by the
name of Williams (Old Drummer Wil
liams, as he was called), was said to be
103 years old. He always brought his
little drum to court and beat it around.
The Judge and lawyers would give him
money enough to buy his tobacco and
coffee until court met again. A9 he
came, as usual, to the hotel, the ladies
were much interested in “Drummer
Williams,” whose reputation had reach
ed their ears, but whom they had never
seen before.
When he began to beat the long roll,
they went out into the porch up-stairs,
looking down on him and the crowd be
low.
Maj Walkar felt disposed to ask him
ms; - y for the amusement of the
ladies. The old man in’/ariably answer
ed, no matter whether he spoke truth or
otherwise.
Walker inquired if he was at the battle
of Waterloo.
Oh, yes, he was there.
“Were you at the battle of New Or
leans?”
“Yes,” said Williams.
“Were you at the battle of Marathon !”
“Oh, yes!”
“Were you at the battle of Pharsalia?”
“Yes,” as usual.
Hon. T. R. R. Cobb, who was in his
room adjoining the porch, came out at
that instant and continued the interro
gations.
“Mr. Williams, was General ‘Besidees’
at the battle of Salami#?”
The ladies had heard the story of
‘Besidees,’ and Mr. Cobb spoke loud
enough for the whole house to hear.
“Yes, he was thar,” replied Williams,
and the roar of laughter that followed,
nobody will ever forget who saw the
tableau.
“Besidees,” went up in a blaze of glo
ry, “the famous General who supplanted
Thernistocles at the battle of Salamis!”
[continued next were.]
For The Courant.j
SUNRISE ON THIS OCEAN.
I hope, my dear friends, when you first
see the “Sunrise on the Ocean” it will
be with emotions as deep and with a
heart better fitted for thankfulness than
mine was. How we we had talked about
it the night before. Yes! how early we
were going to get up to see it, and I,
child as I was (near nine years have
rolled away since then), trembled when 1
arose in the morning. I felt I was going
to experience a feeling that never had
stirred my heart beiore, save in the
gloaming hour when I dreamed of such
things.
They called me queer and eerie be
cause I loved to sit alone and dream of
beauties that sine* then have sprang into I
existence in my innerself. How hurried
ly we dressed and hastened down to the
landing; but I could not repress the old,
old horror and loathing as I felt, rather
than saw the ungainly, “fiddlers” scur
rying sideways over the strand. So I
hastened into the boat, then over the
Sound, in that calm, mysterious light
that precedes a sunrise, no one daring to
break the mystic silence. Ah! never
will I forget that sight; how heedless of
1 the low moan of the white-capped waves
as they washed the pebbly beach, but
1 further down, which broke into a loud
| roar. I watched the East; watched over
| there where sea and sky were one—one
trembling line of bluish green. Even as
I watched, a pinkish hue seemed over
| spreading all, and deeper, and deeper
i grew the tinge, until it giowed, a mass
iof huge piled up clouds, of grey and
j blue, amber and purple, crimson and
dun break-o’-day color, and then wateh
; ing, anxiously, intensely watching, and
lat last—it came. Not slowly, not peep-
ingly. No! An amber cloud rose up,
j a blue sea wave, foam crested, fell back,
and there—the great, golden orb, the
fiery eye, was opened. It looked up,
and we held our htarts. The seen* was
too sublimely magnificent for us (chil
dren as we were), to laugh or play. The
“great eye” yet looked up and rose a
little higher, it still looked up, and my
child-heart, in that early morning hour,
comprehended the part that it was acting.
Down in the ocean's “infathomless
caves” ii had trembled, lest God had said
that its work was done, that Nature had
tired of her work and earth’s children
would slumber now forever; that the
“great eye” should shine no more light,
should no more touch the waves and ren
der them golden ; should shine no more
on the bubbles we blew and reflect worlds
of color and beauty into them. But now
the great God has touched it in the early
morn-hour, and said one® more, “Let
there be light,and the “great eye” was
uplifted to Him in prayer, in thankful
ness for sending it on its mission of Light
again.
And as I looked, I saw the little grey
cloud that hung for a lower lid to the
eye, each hair (a ray of colored light as
it drooped from the eye) glistened with a
tear drop, that lingered on them as they
came from the ocean’s caves, where it
had kept a sorrowing vigil. Its prayer
was said. It looked upon the sea, the
way-out silent sea, and it was a sea of
golden-hued color, sparkling with a
myriad of snowflakes that seemed tipped
with amber and rubies.
’Twas too bright for us. God’s eye
was looking there, and we frail eaitli
ohildren could not look on the same place
and live. Then it looked at us, and in
stinctively we turned, we could not stand
the searching look of the great “great
eye.”
Oh! on the sand-hills of the Ocean of
Time I cannot stand the looking of the
Eye of God now. No! When a little
child, on sand-hill# by the ocean (and iu
nocent then), I tried in vain to look up,
to stand the mighty effulgence of blaz
ing glory, but mortal earth-child, I could
not. It oppressed me then; it has op
pressed tne through the years that have
intervened, and, on the sand-hills of life,
down by the Ocean of Death, it oppresses
me now—the Glory of the living God,
and crouching down on the life-hills, in
the dark, early morn of sin, I am watch
ing for the coming of the Sun of Right
eousness. But ah ! I despair, and forth
towards the morn, that will never break,
I stretch my wasted arms in the agony
of utter, utter despair. Oh ! if, like that
morning, Christ would only rise for my
Sun, and shed on the ocean wave and
sand-hill drear of my life a glory-beam,
from the “City of God,” then would I
not have to cry out, “Oh ! Jesus, Lamb
of God, by what Thou hast suffered,
Thou, Christ of Andarach, bear me safe-
ly through the flood?”
Daai- friends, I have failed; the dream
of it, as I saw it, was beautiful, but, like
the awakening, after the sun had risen,
and after seeing its glories and finding
everything only real and familiar-like,
like it always was, I was disappointed.
If, when you turn over this page in na
ture and go to tell of it, you too, like I
have done, will fail.
Sickness has distorted my penmanship,
and weakness makes me sad. If, in your
loved Georgia, you ever read this, think
of the day I wrote them for you. You,
in the chapel, being examined, and I,
up-stairs sick in bed. Your Carolina
friend, I. 11.
HOMESTEAD AND EXEMPTION LAWS.
Editors Cqurant: Will you give
me space in your very popular paper for
a few thoughts from one of its readers in
reference to our present homestead and
exemption laws.
This is a matter that 1 would be glad
for every citizen of Georgia to seriously
consider, and also to observe closely the
many evils existing among our people at
this time from having such a law. I
think that if the people will give this
law, with its many bad results, that se
rious and caadid consideration that its
importance deserves, that soon they will
demand that it be repealed and blotted
out from the Statutes of Georgia. This
law was claimed to have been made to
protect and befriend the poor. But in
stead of being a protection to them it has
proven to be a curse. Why do I say
that it has proven to be a curse? Be
cause the poor are those who pay time
prices for provisions and other necessa
ries of life. This law, makes the col
lection of debts very uncertain. Those
who sell on time sell at enormous high
prices in order to make profits enough on
those who pay to make up for what they
may lose on others. Consequently, per
sons who -buy on time necessarily have
to pay almost double the cash price for
all they buy. Therefore, we can clearly
see that this law is against the financial
interests of the poor. But if this was j
all, or even half, of the evil and great in
justice that I see in this law I would not
undertake to discuss this matter. But see
ing how it destroys confidence between
man and man, and encourages wicked
men to defraud and swindle their fellow
men, holding out inducements to people
to do wrong and offering protection to
those who may be to do so.
Seeing all of this evil in this law, I
feel like spanking out against it, notwith
standing the abuse that I may receive
for doing so. Ido not wish it under
stood that I mean that no honest men
have taken the benefit of this law, for I
think different. But Ido believe this,
j that where one man takes the benefit of
’ this law through pure motives and for
honest purposes, that you will find prob
! ably ten who do so for only personal ben
efit.
I know that many think that some
such a law' as this is necessary for the
J protection of some classes of our people,
but I think quite different. In my judg
ment, good, wholesome, plain laws that
would require all men to pay their hon
est and just debts, and so plain and sim
ple that none but just debts could be col
lected by law, would be a much greater
protection to all classes. Under such
laws confidence would soon be restored,
time prices would be reduced, a better
state of feelings would be brought about.
We would be more prospeious, more
happy and a better people.
For fear of taking too much space in
your paper and wearying the patience of
its readers I will say no more at present.
Very respectfully, W, F. Cordin.
J. D. PISH IN A STONE CELL.
New York World.]
Jas. D. Fish, convict, formerly Presi
dent of the Marine Rank, took his Sunday
breakfast in Ludlow street jail yesterday,
and ate ids dinner and supper there also.
He slept inside the jail last night, and
will remain there until he leaves for the
penitentiary. Ferdinand Ward, the
young Napoleon of Wall street, formerly
a partner of Fish, aiso resides in Ludlow
street jail, but the men are not on visit
ing terms now, and as Ward is a parlor
boarder, while Fish is a eonvioted felon,
they do not meet. The verdict of the
jury late Saturday night,* finding him
guilty on twelve different counts, pre
vented his retiring to his cosy fiat that
night, and instead he found himself at
one o’olook Monday morning in a very
small stone cell 'overlooking Ludlow
street. He spent all of Sunday in the
little room, “getting used to things,” as
he put it. The only visitors he saw were
his brother, his son, Mr. E. J. Dunning
and a reporter for The World, who for
private reasons was the only newspaper
man with whom Mr. Fish talked. To
all others he sent word that he was
as cheerful as the circumstances would
permit.
The cell to which Mr. Fish was es
corted is pleasantly situated on the “sec
ond tier,” or as a hotel clerk put it,
“second floor,” and looks out upon the
tenement houses of Ludlow street. An
inscription chiselled into the stone above
the lower doorway bears the legend,
“No, 41,” and, according to prison
etiquette, this is now the prisoner’s offi
cial title. His cell is just above the ele
gant suit of apartments occupied by
Ferdinand Ward, but a greater contrast
between two rooms could hardly be
found under one roof anywhere outside
of Ludlow street jail.
The elegant Mr. Ward, the originator
of the schemes that brought disaster to
Fish and himself, luxuriates down stairs
in a Brussels-carpeted drawing-room
with a cosy little sleeping apartment ad
joining. The latest novels and maga
zines lie scattered about on a centre
table, deep-cushioned chairs form con
venient lounging places for the err i
financier’s Wall street visitors, and <
morning the fastidious gentleman bis
his private bath. Upstairs “No. 41”
lives in a bare cell not as large as a street
.car and twice as uncomfortable. Instead
of a private bath Mr. Fish has not even
got a wash basin, and lies to travel to the
end of a long corridor to perform his
morning toilet, and must dry himself on
a public roller-towel that is as rough as
some of his fellow-prisoners. A narrow
cot is the only article of furniture in the
the room, except a wooden chair, and
this last was given him as a special favor.
The only three visitors he had yesterday
stood up while they talked.
lie tried the regular breakfast rations
served out, but could not go the coffee, so
he sent out for a chop and a few es
pecial dainties, and borrowed money
from his brother to pay for them.
“This thing,” said he, with a compre
hensive wave of the hand taking in all
his surroundings, “is a real surprise to
me. My counsel almost promised that
the jury would either discharge me or
disagree, and I was wholly unprepared
for conviction. I don’t quite realize yet
that this is a prison,” patting the bare
walls meditatively with the palm of his
hand, “and somehow I don’t care very
much whether I get out or stay here.
True, it isn’t very comfortable,” with a
quizzical smile, “but everybody here has
been kind to me and I guess I’ll get used
to it.”
In answer to a question as to the truth
of certain allegations that the corres
pondence between Gen. Grant and him
self had been concocted and supervised
by Ward and himself, he said, emphat
ically :
“It is an infernal lie!—and Ward
ought to make a statement to that effect.
I have an autograph letter from the
General, under the date of July 6,1852,
in which he says he has no doubt as to
the genuineness of the Government con
tract. He expressly allows Ward to use
whatever influence might attach to his
(the General’s) name in the furtherance
of the business.”
Great interest was manifested ty the
other persons as to what turn things
would take when Fish met Ward for the
first time in the jail. Fish, when asked
how he would greet his quondam chum,
said, coloring:
“As I would a rattlesnake, the cold
blooded villain!”
Alluding to the prevalent idea that he
had saved a competency out of the
wreck of the bank, Fish said, earnestly :
“I solemnly tell you that nothing
could be further from the truth. I gave
up everything in my assignment—the
most foolish act of my life —and am now
not possessed of a hundred dollars. I
have even had to borrow the money
necessary for my support during the past
two years.” This assertion was partially
confirmed by Fish’s refusing to pay four
cents —the jail price of the morning pa
pers—and his reluctance in accepting the
services of the bootblack at a compensa-
XUMBEB 12.
tion ol a nickel. When asked whether
he intended to apply tor anew trial he
said that in the hurry and excitement of
the night before he had had no time for
conversation with his lawyers, but his
impression was that some such move was
contemplated; he could tell more about
that after the opening of the court on
Monday morning. He thought it was
very doubtful whether he could find bail
pending the application for a now trial,
ami spoke as if he should settle down
into his present quarters until the final
disposition of his case.
He seemed agreeably surprised at the
courtesy and kindness with which ha
had been received by the jail officers and
the prisoners. “This is the jolliest set
of fellows 1 have met in a long time,’’
he said, as he knocked the ashes from
his cigar, “and I don’t see why a man
can’t be very happy in this place, even if
he is deprived of his liberty. After all,’*
he soliloquized, “happiness is regulated
by a great law of compensation. Often,
when I was apparently in the full tide of
success, some litlte incident would throw
a cloud over the brightest day; and now
here—the last place where a man would
look for happiness—l find a certain kind
of relief which is almost contentment.
It puts me in miiul of a play which I
saw over forty years ago in which a cer
tain monarch was advised as a cure for
unhappiness to secure and wear the shirt
of the happiest man found in his king
dom. The country was searched for the
happiest man, who was at last found to
be an honest shoemaker named McCaffrv.
MeCaffry, sitting in his doorway, lis
tened to the request of his sovereign for
the loan of his shirt, but immediately
began pulling up his collar and button
ing liis coat as if he would conceal the
garment. The Committee on Happiness,
annoyed at Mac's reluctance in giving
up the shirt, took hold of him violently
and had stripped him of his coat, when
it was found, to their surprise, that he
wore no shirt.”
Mr. Fish did not explain the point of
the story, and went off into moralizing
on his downfall. He seemed compara
tively cheerful, refused to attend the ser
vices in the jail and declined to see any
visitors except the three gentlemen who
were present at the interview printed
above.
’The sentence, if it should be passed on
all the counts on which the verdict of
guilty has been found, might run up to
120 years, and if the minimum sentence
was passed on all the counts the total
might fall to thirty-five years. The usual
course is, however, to pass sentence on
certain of the counts and suspend judg
ment on the others. This would give
Mr. Fish a sentence of from five to fif
teen years in such penitentiary as Judge
Benedict may indicate. The case will be
fought, however, and a long line of liti
gation is open to counsel before the sen
tence can be finally passed andjmtUilSt
forcraeWTFial on the exceptions taken
during this recent trial. This will be
carried up to the Bench over which
Judge Blatohford will preside, and
if necessary, the case may be carried to
the United States Supreme Court. Coun
sel foi Mr. Fish had not determined yes
terday how far the case would be car
ried.
RACK TO HIS OLl) HOME.
X. Y. World.]
From a train that arrived at the depot
of the Pennsylvania railroad at Jersey
City at an early hour yesterday there
alighted a portly gentleman who, like the
other travellers, walked down the plat
form and on to the ferryboat Chicago.
His face was pale and there were dark
rings under his eyes. His step was fair
ly brisk, but there were unmistakable
symptoms that he was not enjoying per-
fect health. The traveller was ex-Presl
dent Chester A. Arthur, and he was
journeying toward his old home in this
city and to his old law practice.
He left Fortress Moultrie, where he
had gone after the inauguration of Pres
ident Cleveland, Saturday night, accom
panied by Morton McMichael, Marshal
gf the District of Columbia; Judge John
Davis and Capt. D. D. Wheeler, U. S.
A. The ex-president was known to but
a few of his fellow-travellers. When
the ferry-boat arrived on this side the ex
president and his companions got into a
carriage which had been waiting for
some time at the entrance, and were
driven up-town. It was supposed that
Mr. Arthur would stop at the Fifth Av
enue Hotel, the impression having gone
abroad that his T.exington Avenue house
was occupied by other people. His com
panions were dropped at various points
along the route, but instead of going to
the hotel Mr. Arthur was driven te No.
123 Lexington Avenue. He arrived
there shortly after 7 o’clock. His old
housekeeper was delighted to see him
back again, relieved of the care and
responsibility of the presidency. He
went at once to bis room and remained
at borne all day. He bad few cullers.
His housekeeper said that he was not in
robust health, but was fairly well. He
has rejoined his old law firm and will
hereafter hsve his office in the building
of the Mutual Life Insurance Company.
Dress goods—new styles Chambray’s
Ginghams and Albatros, alt shades.
Hamburg*, Torchon and Oriental iaces,
i the prettiest you ever saw, at Satter
field’s. Gents’ and childrens’ clothing,
j Kohn and Schloss clothing. Gents’ fur-
I nishing goods a specialty. Come one,
I come all, to R. W. Satterfield.
-
| We have just received a large and
well selected stock of all kinds of shoes,
j Can fit anybody.
R. H. Jones & Sons Mf’o.Co.
We meaD business, and if you look at
our shoes you will go away happy.
R. 11. Jones & Sons Mk’g Cos.