Newspaper Page Text
THE CARTERSVILLE COURANT.
VOLUME 11.
SOUTH AMERICAN PAPERS.
PLENTY OF JOURNALISTIC ENTER
, PRISE, BUT NO REPORTERS.
Vo Regular Honrs of Publication —How
Current Events Are Written Up—
Ofliees Cheaply Fitted Out —
<£-. Advertising Patronage.
Except in Monh id-o, Buenos Ayres, San
tiago, Valparaiso, Rio tie Janeiro, and other
©f the larger and more enterprising cities,
there are no regular hours of publication;
but papers are issu* 1 at any time from 8
©’clock in the morning until 10 o’clock at
light, whenever they happen to be ready to
go to press. It set'nis funny to have yester
day’s paper delivered to you in the afternoon
of to-day, but it often happens. As soon as
enough matter is in type to fill the forms the
edition goes to press.
In the eitie.Yinent ioned and some others
there is a good deal of journalistic enterprise
and ability; news is gathered by the editors
—there is not a reporter in all Spanish Amer
ica—telegraph dispatches are received and
published, including cablegrams from Europe
furnished by the Havas news agency; news
correspondence regarding current events
comes from the interior towns and cities;
meetings are reported, fights and frolics are
written up in gmphie style, and even inter
viewing has been introduced to a limited ex
tant. The newspapers of Valparaiso and
Buenos Ayres are the most enterprising and
ably conducted, El Comercio, of the former
city, and La Nacion, of the latter, ranking
wall beside the provincial papers of Europe.
THE SOUTH AMERICAN EDITOR’S WORK.
The editors of papers in the tropics are
•eldom called upon to report fires, as they
do not oc cur once a year. The houses are
practically fireproof, being built of adobe,
or sundried bricks, and roofed with tiles.
No stoves are used, and as there are no
chimneys, such a t hing as a defective flue is
unknown. All the cooking is done on an ar
rangement like a blacksmith’s forge, with no
fuel but charcoal.
The delight of the South American editor
Is a street fight, and although no account of
it may not appear for several days after the
occurrence, the writer gives his whole soul
to it and it is always done up in the most
•laborate and flamboyant manner. A dog
fight or any other event of interest would be
treated in the same manner. Everything is
“transcendent;” everything is “surpassing,”
The grandiloquent stylo of writing, which
appears everywhere, is not confined to news
papers, nor to orations, but you find ft in
the most unsuspected places.
In the larger cities the papers are delivered
by carrier, and are sold by newsboys on tha
itreets, but in the smaller towns they are
sent to the “Correo,” or postoffice, to be
called for like other mail by the subscribers.
The price of subscription is inordinately
huge, being seldom less than sl3 a year, and
often double that amount; and single copies
usually cost 10 cents in native money, which
vr* average about 7% cents in American
gold. The paper with the largest circula
lation in South America is La Nacion of
Buenos Ayres, which is said to circulate 30,-
000 copies. But 1,200 or 1,500 copies is con
sidered a fair circulation for the ordinary
daily. Most of the offices are very cheaply
fitted up. A dress of type lasts many yearß,
and stereotyping is almost unknown.
The presses used are the old-fashioned
elbow-joint kind, such as were in
vogue in the United States forty years
ago. In Chili and the Argentine
Republic there are some cylinder presses run
by steam, but the people generally through
out the continent are very far behind the
times in the typographical art. Modern
equipments might be introduced very easily,
but the printers down there know nothing
about them; and when a perfecting press
that folds and cuts is described to them they
are apt to accept the story as a North Amer
ican exaggeration.
GOOD ADVERTISING PATRON AG r
The advertising patronage is very good
nearly everywhere, particularly that of the
government organs, but small rates are
paid, and the rural system of “trading out”
is practiced to a considerable extent. The
same patent medicine “ads” that are so fa
milial to the readers of newspapers in ths
United States appear in South American
journals, and are eagerly scanned by home
sick travelers, although they look very odd
in Spanish, and can only be recognized by
trademarks and other well-known signs.
Most of the advertising in South America is
done through the newspapers:* Very few
posters or dodgers or almanacs are used, and
the patent medicine fiend has not used his
paint brush so extensively upon fences and
dead walls as in the United States. Not
long ago the manufacturers of a popular
specific sent their agent in Peru a box of
handsomely illuminated advertising cards.
The custom oft lews seized them, and the
druggist to whom they were consigned was
obliged to pay a heavy>penalty for trying to
smuggle in works of art.
The South American editor is not allowed
the same liberty to criticise public men that
is enjoyed by his contemporary in the
United’ States. He sings very low in times
of .political excitement, and uses great cau
tion aphis comments upon public affairs.
In soil to of the republi cs there is a censor
of the press, to whom a copy of each edition
is submitted before it is published. This
causes- some inconvenience and delay at
times, lor if the censor happens to be out of
toV. jij at a dinner party, or otherwise en
gaged, the issue is withheld until his august
signature and rubric are placed upon each
page of the copy submitted to him. This
copy is filed away for the protection of the
edit >r in case any article creates a row.—
New York Bun.
Official Statement of Japan’s Debt.
An official statement of the public debt of
Japan shows that the domestic debt, com
posed nmirdy of the capitalized pensions of
the noble and military classes who were dis
established and partially disendowed (__ the
reorganization succeeding the revolution of
1868, amounted July 1 to $231,006,220, while
the foreign debt was £1,641,500. Anew
loan of $10,000,000 was made during the year
previous .for the purpose of railway con
struction; but the statement shows that
since 1882 the national debt has been steadily
reduced. In these three years, for example,
the paper currency has been reduced nearly
$90,000,000. If the statistics are wholly re
liable (which there is no reason to doubt) the
Japanese are steadily retrieving their finan
cial position.—Chicago Tribune.
1 “Nine Ought Forty —Riglit Away!”
No crowd turns out to sfce him come; no
bugles drown the echoing drum; no plaudits
fall in vocal showers; no maidens strew his
way with flowers; no police seargeantfs pha
lanx stood to hold in check the multitude;
no delegation came to meet; alone he hoofed
it down the street; alone before the clerks he
stands and pens his name with trembling
hands. 'Awe strycSt he hears the magnate
say: “Front! nine ought forty! right away!”
Alone climbs the distant stairs, and np
one knows and no one cares to what loot
room he has to climb—the base ball man in
winter time.—Bob Burdette.
'•
XSuzzards Troublesome in Florida*
Buzzards have become so troublesome
at Tallahassee, Fla., sitting on the chim
neys of the state capital, that the adju
tant general has ordered them shot.
The Missouri Cremation society has
400. members, twenty-five of whom Are
women. v if 1 -
THE REASON WHY.
Two dimpled hands the bars of iron grasped;
Two blue and wondering eyes the space
looked through.
This massive gate a boundary had been set,
Nor was she ever known to be but true.
Strange were the sights she saw across the
way
A little chiid had died some days before —
And as she watched, amid the silence
hushed,
Some carried flowers, some a casket bora
The little watcher at the garden gate
Grew tearful, hers such thoughts and
wonderings were,
Till said the nurse: “Come here, dear child,
Weep not
We must all go. ’Tis God has sent for
her.”
“If He shonld send for me”—thus spoke the
child—
“l’ll have to tell the angel, ‘Do not wait.
Though God has sent for me, I can not
come;
I never go beyond the garden gate.’ ”
—[Katharine McDowell Rice.
SAFE DRIVING AFTER DARK.
An Experiment Which a Physician Ha*
Tried with Perfect Satisfaction.
How to illuminate the road in front of the
horses in driving at night is an important
matter. The usual side lamps on carriages,
or the attaching of a lantern to the dash
board, fail to reflect the light where it is
most wanted, and the suspending of a lan
tern to the front axle is objectionable for
many reasons, but it is the best plan for
shedding the light where it is most needed
that we have seen tried.
But a Philadelphia physician suggests the
attaching to a lantern to the breast collar of
the harness, which he says he has tried with
perfect satisfaction; and he has evidently
had some experience with the ordinary
methods of lighting, for he says the various
forms of dash lights are pretty much the
same, in that they put the light just where
it is not wanted, illuminating the horse’s tail
and hips and the buggy thills with a bril
liance quit- unnecessary, which intensifies
the blackness of the shadow cast by them
just where one most wishes to see clearly.
“My light is common tubular lantern,
with a reflector, and a spring for attachment
to the dash. In place of putting it on the
dash, I slipped the spring over the middle of
the breast collar, directly in front of the
horse. Every part of the road in front of
me was plainly seen, so I could drive with
as much confidence as in broad daylight.
The conditions necessary for success are a
level headed horse, with fair breadth of
chest, and a shoulder strap attached to the
check hook, to prevent the lantern sagging
down between the horse’s legs When for any
reason the traces slack. It would be well to
have a short strap sewed to the inside of the
breast collar, to slip the spring through, so
as to prevent any lateral motion.’’—Scientific
American.
A Flag Which Has a History.
As the stream of visitors pours every day
into the treasury, not one in a hundred stops
at the narrow room which is the headquar
ters of the captain of the watch. I had been
through the building fifty times before I
saw the interior of that room. One day its
keeper said to me:
“Did you ever see my flag?”
On being told that I had not, he took me
plainly furnished room, whose only
ornament is a silk United States flag pro
tected in a glass frame.
That was the flag with which the presi
dent’s box was hung on the night of his
murder by the mad assassin. Booth shot
Lincoln from the rear and then leaped on
the stage to make his sickening proclamation
of “Sic Semiier Tyrannis. ” As he jumped
from the box his spur caught in this flag and
made a rent of several inches.
During the war Gen. Phil Cook, of
Georgia, pushed a brigade almost to the gates
of Washington, and had the honor of leading
the only Confederate force that ever fought
in the District of Columbia. It was out at
Frazier’s farm, on the Baltimore and Ohio
railroad, and Gen. Cook says that the dome
of the capitol was clearly visible to his men
as they fought.
It was to meet this raid that a regi
ment was formed out of the em
ployes of the various departments in
Washington. The city was full of south
ern sympathizers, but a large number of
ladies contributed to the purchase of a beau
tiful flag for the “Home Guard.” They bore
it into one or two battles, but it seems that
it was never in any lively quarter, as it was
perfect when Manager Ford borrowed it to
drape the president’s box on the night of his
assassination. It is now growing yellow
with age, but it is preserved as one of the
relics of our civil revolution, as a thrilling
testimonial of one of the mhddest acts ever
perpetrated by a frenzied mortal. —Wash-
ington Cor. Atlanta Constitution.
Tribute to Oliver Wendell Holmes.
Dr. Holmes is an immense favorite
throughout the south, as Miss Page—the sis
ter of Mrs. Thomas Bryan of your city—
once unconsciously told him. She was vis
iting another sister, who is the wife of a
professor at Harvard, and at a gathering of
the literati heard some one say Dr. Holme*
was present.
“Where is he?” she asked with enthusiasm.
“Do show me.”
“I do not see him,” said the little gentle
man to whom she was speaking. He was a
very little gentleman, with a face like a win
ter apple, a pair of twinkling brown
eyes, and a merry smile, but his name she
had not heard.
“O,” she said, “I am so anixous to meet
him. You know he is such a favorite in the
south. ”
“Indeed,” he answered, evidently greatly
surprised, “I thought that Yankee principles
and Yankee literature were just—the reverse
of popular.
She smiled her own brilliant smile:
“Perhaps you are not altogether wrong,
but of this I can assure you—no southern
gentleman’s library is considered complete
without the ‘Autocrat of the Breakfast
Table.’ ”
He positively colored up and looked con
fused, and just then some one laid a hand on
his shoulder and said:
“Dr. Holmes ”
Tableau!
But Miss Page through her blushes told
him:
“It Is all true and you must accept the
compliment au pied de la lettre, for I did
not know to whom I spoke.”—Washington
Cor. Chicago Tribune.
Subterranean Streams of Cold Water.
Parties sinking shafts in Lookout moun
tain, Tennessee, have struck magnificent
subterranean streams of cold water sufficient
to f upply the city of Chattanooga.—Chicago
Times.
Bucklen’s Arnica Salve.
The best salve in the world for cutsr
bruises, sores, ulcers, salt rheum, feve,
sores, tetter, chapped hands, chilblains,
corns, and all skin eruptions, and posi
tively cures piles, or no pay required.
It is guaranteed to give perfect satisfac
tion, or money refunded. Price 25c per
box. For sale by D ,W. Curry.
+ ♦-
Cold damp weather often produces
coughs and colds, while Curry’s Cough
Cure always cures them.
CARTERSVILLE. GEORGIA, THURSDAY. FEBRUARY 18, 1886.
BENJAMIN MARVIN'S SUBSCRIPTION.
CARL STEINBERG.
“llow much could thee give toward re
pairing our meeting-house, Benjamin?”
Cautious, careful Quaker farmers, these,
to whom a few dollars were important.
Penurious, some men called Benjamin
Marvin, but be was a stern man, with
stern views of duty. Never measuring
bis duty to God and man by another’s
standard, he was yet quick to follow what
he believed to be the voice of bis own
conscience. Mr. Furness was much too
politic to attempt to influence him by tell
ing of the weakness ol their church, or
of the sacrifices others were making.
“I think I might give one hundred dol
lars,” said Marvin, slowly, and Furness
turned away satisfied, knowing that a
bond and mortgage would not he securer.
Others called Benjamin Marvin wealthy,
and he was the possessor of several hun
dred acres of excellent land. But as he
rode on, he was determining in his own
mind just where this money he had prom
ised was to come from. Against him no
mortgage had ever been recoidod, and
the bankers were not nearly so v eil ac
quainted with his signature as they wish
ed. It was not sufficient for him to know
that there would be enough left at the
year’s end to pay the debt. He liked to
feel that it was coming from a certain
part of his assured income. It seemed
best to provide for this particular prom
ise from the rent of a small farm some
mile?distant. The half yearly payment
was already overdue, and lie was daily
expecting to receive it. Fifty dollars he
had promised to Mrs. Marvin, and tnat
she should have. Out of the remaining
one hundred he had promised himself
that lie would replace the well-worn suit
he was wont to don on the Lord’s day,
but that could wait another six months.
He had been too unwell to go over and
collect his rents, and felt not a little un
easy that it had not been brought to him.
He was pleased, then, when he saw Phil
ip Brooks, his tenant, coming up the
road to meet him. But Brooks did not
seem anxious to see him; he looked stead
fastly in the opposite direction, and
scarcely returned the Quaker’s measured
greeting.
“When could thee pay thy rent, Phil
ip?” asked Mr. Marvin. •
“Never,” returned Brooks doggedly, as
he hurried away.
Marvin’s keen, deep, sunken, gray eyes
blazed with what he felt to he a righteous
indignation.
“Strange a renter can’t be honest,” he
said to himself, as he went on his way.
As he passed the residence of Squire
H., that gentleman stood at his gate and
exchanged a pleasant greeting. A
smooth, soft-mannered * man was the
Squire; the “legal light” of the little
precinct, and ever ready for business in
his line. Marvin had been too much stir
red by Brooks’ conduct not to tell his
grievance to the Justice. That worthy
condemned the tenant in the strongest
terms, and hinted that the rent might he
collected at law; possibly they might
seize Brooks’ horses.
Marvin had never appeared in any
court in his life. Both his creed and his
practice were opposed to it. But he told
his good wife, when he reached home,
that duty almost forced it upon in
this case. Brooks was a young man, and
if lie allowed him to deny his debts in
this way, he would encourage him in
evil.
Mrs. Marvin was not satisfied, but she
never opposed her strong-willed husband
directly. She only said, gently :
“Don’t thee think he would let thee
take part of his grain? It seems a pity
to take the poor fellow’s horses. I think
thee had best see him again at least.”
To this Marvin agreed, and that after
noon found him on his way to see Brooks.
When his last tenant, after live pros
perous years, had signified his intention
of buying a farm for himself, Marvin
had congratulated himself on getting
Philip Brooks to take his place. He had
no desire to repeat his former experiences
with shiftless, professional tenants. He
was not only shrewd enough to know
that a prosperous tenant was the more
profitable, but he also felt a kindly inter
est in young Brooks.
For several years the young man had
been known in the neighborhood as an
industrious farm hand, and when, after
accumulating enough to purchase a team
of horses and a few household goods, he
had married the neat and thrifty Mary
Scott, people had pointed them out as a
couple destined to succeed.
“He hasn’t been spoiled,” Marvin had
said to his wile when Brooks took the
place, “and I think I can make a good
tenant out of him.”
He had even gone so far as to make a
large reduction in the rent. But all this
only increased his anger toward Brooks,
lie noted the weedy corn-field as he rode
along that afternoon, and felt the more
convinced that he had been deceived in
his tt nant. Even the neat appearance of
the little two-roomed cottage and the
grounds surrounding it did not mollify
hint much. lie suspected that this quiet
beauty of clinging vines and soft-scented
flowers had robbed the weedy fields of
the care they so much needed.
He dismounted and strode quietly
across the green sward in front of the cot
tage. He must pass a window to reach
the door at the side. A bed stood near
the window, and over its head-board he
could see Brooks, standing with folded
arms, gazing vacantly in the opposite
direction. He could see only part of the
face, but it was so pale and thin, and the
expression so haggard, that he involnn
rily stopped for a second look.
“The doctor says I can be up soon,
Philip,” came a weak voice from the bed,
where Mrs. Brooks was lying with her
young child.
“It can’t make much difference. I al-
most wish that I had died and you had
followed mo,” said Brooks, bitterly.
“0 Philip! And our baby!”
“I know,” lie said; “but Mr. Marvin
must have his rent, and I suppose we will
he turned out and lose all we have! My
God, Nellie! I know I ought not to talk
of these thinkgs to you, but no one else
cares.” >
Marvin did not wait to hear more.
Somehow lie could not go in, and he
turned and walked away as silently as he
came.
Down the road a hundred yards David
Gorham was working, and Marvin rode
on to see him. “Dave,” every one called
him, and he was pleased with thwfamil
iarity which the name implied. He was
one of those “shiftless” renters, as Mar
vin termed them, but withal a big-heart
ed,, whole-souled fellow whom r.o one
disliked. He was unselfish to the last de
gree, and though he thoroughly detested
work, yet if ir must he done, he had as
soon do it for a neighbor as for himself.
“Thai’s a shame, isn’t it, Uncle Ben,”
he said, as Marvin cam ’up, pointing to
the field where Brooks’ wheat stood
growing and rotting in the shock.
“Why wasn’t it taker ki ?”
“Well, you see, Brook.- was taken down
with the fever, and we neighbors cut his
wheat for him; hut by the time we had
taken care of our own,, it feet in raining
and has all spoiled in the shock.”
“That’s too bad,” said Markin, recall
ing the scene in the cottage.
“Yes, after the poor fellow worked
like a beaver last spring to put his crops
in. lam afraid he will come out behind
this year. lie promised me part of his
corn crop if I’d tend it, hut I’ll gladly
give him all I’ve done.”
“If he had let me know, I could have
helped him,” said Marvin, not quite ready I
to justify Ins tenant.
“Well, we told him he could depend
on us, and then every one is a little afraid
of you, Uncle Ben—except me,” he ad
ded, with a twinkling glance at the stern
face before him.
There was something about MaYvin
that repelled familiarity, hut just now he
was glad that this ne’er-do-well fellow
was not afraid of him. If this Gorham,
who proverbially “came out behind,” as
he expressed it, at the year’s end, could
do so much for his tenant, what was his
own duty in the matter? Surely he did
not set a higher value on dollars than
Gorham did on days of labor.
'l’iie Quaker turned his horse and rode
back to the Brooks cottage. The young
man sat in his doorwaj*, pale, but quiet.
Evidently the worst was over, now that
his wife knew all. He met Mr. Marvin’s
look squarely, and when the Quaker had
seated himself, he proceeded at once
to the painful subject.
“I am afraid l was rude to you this
morning, Mr. Marvin,” he said, “but I
was too much discouraged to care. It is
true, though, that I can’t pay the rent. I
suppose you had best take my horses and
get what you can out of them, and Nellie
and 1 will give up the place and leave as
soon as we can.”
Here was an opportunity for the Qua
ker to take peaceably the very property
that he had almost determined a few short
hours before to seize by legal process; but
a change had taken place in his mind.
llis thoughts went back to his own early
struggles, and it did not seem right to add
to the trials of one upon whom the hand
of Providence had fallen so heavily.
“it has been a hard season for
lie said at length.
“So hard !” came almost in a sob, from
Mrs. Brooks.
“Yes; but I suppose I must meet sick
ness and misfortunes as others do,” said
Philip; but his Lembling voice belied
his courageous words.
“I think tin e can do better next year.
1 will not charge thee anything r this
year’s rent, and thee can stay here and
try it again.”
“O, Mr. Marvin ! it seems like turning
beggar to accept so much. At least you
must let me increase the rent to what
others would pa\- you.”
“Well, if thee is prosperous thee can,”
said the Quaker, kindly.
Then the young wife cried in good ear
nest, and thanked Mr. Marvin again and
again. She even thought she would be
stow upon him the highest honor her
mother heart could suggest, and let her
baby hear iris name.
“I expect I did a foolish thing,” said
the Quaker to his wife, “but it made them
so happv.”
“I think thee did well, Benjamin.”
And the coming years proved it true.
And when the expenses of repairing
the meeting-house ran above the esti
mate, as they are hound to do, even in a
Quaker community, Benjamin Marvin
still felt able to add ten dollars to his sub
scription to meet the deficiency.
♦
A CAPTAIN’S FORTUNATE DISCOV
ERY.
Capt. Coleman, schr. Weymouth, plying be
tween Atlantic City and New York, had been
troubled with a cough ao that he was unable to
sleep, and vs as induced to try Dr. King’s New
Discovery for Consumption, it not only gave
him instant relief, but allayed the extreme sore
ness hi his breast. His children were similarly
affected and a single dose had the same happy
effect. Dr. King’s New Discovery is now the
standard remedy in the Coleman household and
on board the schoone r. Free trial bottles of this
Standard Remedy at David W. Curry’s drug
stoic. 4
1 -
Proper Treatment for Coughs*
That the reader may fully understand
what constitutes a good Cough and Lung
Syrup, we will say that tar and Wild
Cherry is the basis oi trie Dest remedies
yet discovered. These ingredients with
several others equally as efficacious, en
ter largely into Dr. Bosanko’s Cough and
Lutig Syrup, thus making it one of the
most reliable now on the market. Price
50 ets. and
All those indebted to to Dr. Lindsay
Johnson for medical services are earnestly
requested to pay at once.
A FACT OF SHERMAN’S RAID.
now Tecuiuseh Burned the Plantation of
His Cousin.
Charleston Sunday News ]
About tliree-lourths of a century ago
one of the most prominent citizens of the
BJaekswamp neighborhood, near the vil
lage of Robertville, then in Beaufort dis
trict, now Hampton county, of your
State, was Dr. Thomas Harris, a native
of North Carolina. He was one of the
two or three practicing physicians of
that locality. There was also there and
and at Robertville another prominent
citizen. lie was a merchant, aiid per
haps the only merchant, for in those ear
ly days when transportation was so diffi
cult, the people needed hut few goods.
This merchant brought his goods from
Savannah, and carried his country pro
duce there by pole boats owned by him
self. Ilis name was Benjamin Brooks, a
native of Connecticut. Both these gen
tlemen were bachelors, and had reached
an age when they would soon he on the
old bachelors. Brooks, feeling
the need of a housekeeper, and it not be
ing in his plan of life to marry, brought
out from his native State his sister Mary,
then a young lady of 20. This event, I
will say, occurred in the year 1810, for
Mary’s binhday was on May 10, 1700.
It came to pass within a few years there
after that Mary Brooks, the Connecticut
girl, and Thomas Harris, the North Car
olina doctor, were married. Some time
thereafter Benjamin Brooks died, and
Mary was, so far as blood relations went,
left alone in that country, then so distant
from her native land. No child was
horn unto her, and except her husband
she had no tie of relationship to bind her
to her adopted home. The husband and
wife lived harmoniously together for
many years, but some time before the
late “war between the States” Dr. Har
ris died. His wife having no family of
her own, assisted the doctor in his prac
tice, and, when occasion required, would
nurse the patients. At the death of the
Doctor she inherited all he had, which
consisted of the farm they resided upon,
a few slaves, and the live stock required
to carry on the farm. Here she resided
for quite a number of years, contented
with her home# Her trusty slaves pro
tected and suppoi ted her, and she contin
ued to serve her neighbors and friends
whenever possible, lor having been so
long the wife of a doctor she knew of
many remedies, and was skilled in nurs
ing.
PLANTATION LIFE.
The home of Mrs. Harris was in the
centre of one of the richest plantation
sections in the State of South Carolina.
A large area of the land was suitable to
the production of cotton. The Invention
of the cotton gin, of steam navigation on
the river, the cheapness of labor and work
animals started those enterprising and
energetic planters on a career of pros
perity that soon made them nearly all
wealthy. So rich we-e they in lands and
negroes that the planter who did not own
more than a hundred negroes considered
himself poor. Education, intelligence,
refinement and luxury followed in the
foot steps of wealth, until for many
miles in every direction there were pal
ace-like mansions, furnished in the latest
and costliest style. In these a generous
and luxurious hospitality was so con
stant as to become a daily routine. These
people having wealth necessarily had
leisure. This leisure they employed in
making each other happy and in beauti
fying their homes and grounds. They
or their ancestors liad lived so long in
one neighborhood, from marriage and
intermarriage, they were nearly all re
lated to each other by blood or affinity.
The community presented a picture of
contentment seldom found in any civili
zation out-ide of that which rested on a
foundation of fertile lands and domestic
slavery. They were ardently attached
to their neighbors, their homes and their
State. To them there was no State so
good as South Carolina, and no 'ty so
good as Charleston. This was the home
of the llanes,*fbe Martins, the Roberts,
the Lawtons, the Stoffords, the Bosticks,
the Tisons, and of others, the descend
ants of whom, in their respective abodes,
and many in distant States, now con
spicious in church, State and society.
THE PATH OF THE INCENDIARY.
This was the charming situation apper
taining to Mrs. Harris or to the commu
nity in which she lived, when Sherman
besran his march from Savannah through
South Carolina. It suited his plans to
cross the river at the old and historic Sis
ter’s ferry, and from thence his march
led him directly and at once through the
earthly Eden I have referred to, but not
described. As I have not described that,
I will not attempt the more difficult task
of describing the wholesale and indis
criminate destruction by fire and pillage
of all that was good, beautiful or valua
ble in that community. The mansions
of the rich, the cottages of the poor, and
the cabins of the slaves were alike de
stroyed, with their contents. What could
not be destroyed was appropriated, and
the rich and the poor were alike left
without food, shelter or the work ani
mals with which to acquire the one or re
construct the other. The destructive
march of Sherman through South Caro
lina has been so well and so often describ
ed, it would be worse than superfluous to
comment upon it. It is, however, wor
thy of mention, perhaps, in verification
of the old adage of “history repeating
itself,” that South Carolina was once be
fore treated as she was by Sherman. She
was as conspicuous in the Revolutionary
war as she was in the war of secession,
and for that Cornwaijis resolved to
make her people feel the effects of
war in all savage cruelty. For the
smaller opportunities offering on this
march, and the softer tone which time
has given to the history of it he was only
a little less cruel, if any, than Sherman.
Sherman following the example of Corn
wallis, resolved to punish South Caroliua
because she was conspicious in secession,
hut without appreciating that secession
was simply, according to her faith, an
assertion of the same principle of liberty
dominant in the Revolution, as against
those who had seized the reins of this
government to violate that, and the prin
ciples upon which it was founded.
A DESOLATE OLD AGE.
From the preceding narrative it will al
ready be understood that Mrs. Harris in
her old age was left bj’ Sherman home
less and destitute, with no blood relation
any nearer than the distant and antagon
istic State of Connecticut. No friend in
the neighborhood was able to relieve her,
and she made her way to the nearest part
of Georgia that Sherman had spared,
where she found an abiding place with
one of the descendants of the friends of
her youth. There a nephew of her de
ceased husband, the Rev. Franklin Har
ris, went for her and brought her to his
home in Atlanta. In the course of a few
years he died, and thus the last link in
the way of a relative had been broken,
and the old lady felt very desolate. By
this time she wasS2 years of age, and she
could do nothing but look with an earn
est and constant longing over the hills in
the direction of her old home, and have
her heart go out with every train she saw
go in that direction. Stic was in reality
home-sick, and of a home which con
sisted of only one or two negro cabins.
But hers was not the ordinary home
sickness. It was more than that—it might
be said she was grave-sick. She wished
to reach Carolina before she died that she
might be buried where she had lived fifty
years or more of her womanhood. She
was a feeling illustration of Goldsmith’s
lines in the deserted village:
And as a hare, when hounds and horses pursue,
Pants for the place from whence at first she flew
She still had hopes, her long vexations past,
There to return and die at home at last.
DEPENDENT ON CHARITY.
With the aid of a small legacy left her
by her loving and faithful nephew, and
the personal kindness of a few new friends
the old lady began her journey back. She
traveled portions of the journey at times
and finally reached her destination.
When she got there, rather than be a bur
then in her old age upon her old friends,
most of whom were themselves in poor
circumstances, she took a cabin on her
own land, under the protection of a faith
ful negro man and his family. Some
distant relatives sent her small sums, and
with the aid of her neighbors and her
own exertions she was able to subsist;
but later she became bed-ridden, and was
a burthen upon the faithful negro. Final
ly she was taken to the home of a kind
gentleman and his wife, named Riley,
and there, about two years ago, at the
advanced age of 93, site died—died at
home at last, and at last found the home
she for so many years so desired to have.
THE DENOUMENT.
At this point the reader might inquire
what is there in this more than has hap
pened so often to unfortunate humanity?
If no farther merit, it is another of the
many cases which show that “truth is
stranger than fiction,” as I will try and
prove.
In Connecticut, about the middle of
the last century, there were two sisters
named Mary and Hannah Raymond. One
of these sisters married a man named
Brooks, and the other married a man
named Hoyt. The Mrs. Harris of whom
I am writing is a daughter of the first
named marriage. A daughter of the sec
ond named married Charles Sherman,
and William Tecumseh Sherman is a son
of this last-named marriage. Thus, Mrs.
Harris was a first cousin, of the whole
blood, of Ger.. Sherman’s mother, and
Gen. Sherman, without knowing it,
burned and pillaged the property of his
mother’s first cousin, and she, an aged
lady, as perfect a specimen ot a non
combatant among adults as could be
found.
The foregoing facts and incidents seem
sufficiently romantic and dramatic to
warrant their publication, and should in
terest the citizens of South Carolina par
ticularly, and generally those of other
States. Richard H. Clark.
A TREASURE OF THE WAR.
BY AX EX-REBEL.
From the Detroit Free Press. |
When Johnston was falling back be
fore Sherman’s advance through North
Georgia and before the conflict at Lost
and Pine Mountains, I was continually
on the front with a bird of sec.its. We
penetrated the Yankee lines time after
time, but always to return to headquar
ters with the same report. Sherman had
one of the grandest armies in the world,
and he was in such strength that he
could fight Johnston in front and flank
him at the same time.
One dav, scouting between Marietta
and the Etowah river, the Federal cav
alry passed and cut off my retreat by the
highways, and for six or seven hours I
was obliged to secrete myself in a thick
et. It was in leaving this hiding place
that I cam* 1 across a dog which was
doubtless owned in the near vicinity, but
had been frightened into the woods by
the .skirmishing. He took to me kindly,
and had dogged my heels for half an
hour when he quickly leaped aside and
began pawing the. ground at the foot of a
large beech. I h ilt and for a moment and
saw that the ea tli was fresh as if a grave
had been dug. It was but natural to
conclude that some one had been shot
near by, and that his comrades had given
him burial.
Upon closely examining the tree I
found the fresh cut initials, “ D. S. G.”
They were not where oue would have
looked for them, but within three feet of
the ground. I had no doubt whatever
that a dead man rested there, and I pick
ed up a stick and drove the dog away
under the impression that he was hun-
NUMBER 3.
grv-and determined to get at the body. I
succeeded after a couple of days in get
ting back into the Confederate lines, and
the incident did not occur to me for long
years.
One summer’s day in 1870, while I
was going from Rome to Cartersville, I
formed the acquaintance of a stranger
who gave his name as Charles Gains, and
who claimed to lie a Virginian. He
said he was looking for improved land,
and had been advised to locate near Ma
rietta. This story was straight enough,
except that I did not believe he was a
Virginian. He hadn’t the look nor the
dialect, and when I came to quiz him
about certain locations around Rich
mond he soon became confused.
I was then a detective in the employ
of several railroad lines, and it was only
natural for me to ask myself why this
man had lied to me. I took pains to let
him know that I was willing to answer
all his questions, and-, directly he began
asking about the section of country be
tween Marietta and the Etowah. He
wanted to know the value of land; if
much forest had been cleared since the
war; if there had been any finds of
treasure around Marietta, and various
other things. He worked the answers
out of me without seeming to be more
Jian generally interested, and while I
was somehow suspicious of him, I could
not exactly determine on what to place
my finger. But he had lied. Why? I
kept asking myself this question, but
could not answer it. He had a ticket to
Cartersville, and before we reached .that
place I had made up my mind to go on
with him to Marietta. What decided me
was this: lie sat on the outside of the
seat, and a passenger going to the wa'e.*
cooler knocked h's lat oft'. It restsd
for a moment in the aisle, and I plainly
read the name “Boston” inside in gilt
letters. The name of the maker was
above it, but I could not catch it. No
hat sold in Richmond would bear the
name of Boston. Where did he get it?
By and by I made a careful examination
of his hoots. He never bought them
south of the Ohio. I decided the same
in regard to his clothing. He was try
ing to deceive me. What object could he
have in view ?
When we readied Marietta both of us
went to the same hotel. I thought he
began to fight shy of me and I took pains
to keep out of his way. During the
evening he asked several towns people in
regard to the country north of Marietta,
and engaged of a livery man a saddle
horse for next day. I did a heap of
thinking that night over the stranger’s
case, but when morning came I was none
the wiser for it. Ilis horse was brought
around after breakfast, and he rode off.
I was tempted to get another and follow
him. but by what right? What had he
done or what was he going to do? I
went up to my room on an errand, not
yet decided whether to go or to stay, and
in the hallway my foot struck a mem
orandum book. I carried it into my
room, and the first thing my eye caught
was the name inside the cover. “George
Paige.” It was a well-worn book, and
nearly full of entries. Most of them
seemed to relate to trips between Boston
and Providence, but near the back end I
found one reading:
“About ten miles north of Marietta, Ga ; turn
to right where highway bends to left; go into
woods about ten rods; look for twin beech tree
with initials *D. S. G.’ cut low down.”
My heart gave a jump. That was the
-pot where the yankee cavalry run me
into hiding, and those were the initials I
bad seen on the tree ! Had this stranger
come down to unearth a skeleton? I
was wondering over the matter, when I
heard the clatter of hoofs and knew that
he had returned. He had discovered the
loss of his book. Now, then, I did what
you may call a mean trick. I pocketed
the book, got down stairs without being
seen, an ! went to the nearest justice and
demmded a warrant for the arrest of
George Paige for robbery. Before he
had ceased looking for his lost memoran
dum a constable nude him prisoner.
Meanwhile I had engaged a horse and
wagon, borrowed an empty tea chest and
a spade, and, as Paige went to jail I
drove out of town. I wanted to unearth
that skeelton myself.
It was six years since I had left it, but
I had but little difficulty in finding the
grave, although the beech tree had been
cut down. Indeed, I walked almost
straight to it, and though the initials
were indistinct, they were there as wit
nesses. fu half an hour I had unearthed
the “corpse.” He, or it, consisted of a
rotten coffee sack wrapped around a
mouldy blue blouse, and inside the
blouse were three gold w r atches, $420 in
gold, $1,203 in greenbacks, half a dozen
gold rings, a fine diamond pin, tw r o gold
bracelets, a gold lined cup, a full set of
cameo jewelry, a solid silver back comb,
and about four pounds of silver spoons
and forks, the whole find being worth to
me'nearly SB,OOO.
The stuff' had been deposited there by
two or three or perhaps half a dozen for
agers, and much of it hid been stolen
from the dead on the battle fields.
When the treasure had been secured I
drove on to Cartersville, and from thence
sent the horse back and telegraphed to
Paige my regrets at his situation, as I
had discovered my mistake in aceusand
him. He was held a day or two are dis
charged. He rode out to the spot, found
the treasure gone, and left the State
without a word as to what his real er
rand had been.
Shriner’s Indian Vermifuge destroyed
and expelled worms thirty years ago.
We guarantee it to do the same *o-day,
to the satisfaction of every ono who use it.
If you wish to buy farm near Carters
uiJle, apply to Francis Fontaine, rooms 7
and 8, Fitten building. Atlanta. Farm
loans promptly negotiated. Add* ess
Francis FoNtAiNE,
feb4-Gt Atlanta ,Ga.