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“GALLAHER’S INDEPENDENT,”
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT
QUITMAN, OA,,
J. C. GALLAHER.
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION
TWO DOLLARS per Annum in Advance.
THE MILLIMU.
BY 3. A. AULLS.
J*ne Jenkinp vu a milliner,
A splitter tall and slim,
Who pinna**! hrntnelf on pluming hats
With plumes and feathers trim.
She wore her hair in cork screw curls;
She had a ruby nose:
Though fiow’rs ami ribbons she displayed,
She had, alas! no,beaux.
Her little store was o’er a store;
She kept the latest styles;
Her bonnets all were wreathed in flowers,
Her face was wreathed in smiles.
An old “foundation” she would take,
Then all her art would bring
To reconstruct a “perfect love;”
“A gem,” “a splendid thiug.”
How deftly she would tic a tie,
Though she was often tiled;
Thu ladles all cried out, “Oh rnv !”
When they hear work admired.
But ah! she mourned her single lot;
Hhe felt she was unsought;
A cypher; yet she sighed for one
Who would not count her naught.
Auspicious fate ! at length ’Squire Jones,
A batehelor forlorn,
A modest-minded, model man,
Came m one pleasant morn.
His niece had sent a bonnet down
To be “done up” atraitway;
And he must get it without lail,
She could nut wait a day.
He states his errand; oh that smile!
It makes him feel so queer;
Aud when the price was named to him
baid he, “youre eery dear!"
Her bosom heaved with wildest joy;
He shook with vauge alarms;
Khe stammered, sighed, then swooed away,
And sank into his arms.
‘•Help, help, a tit’’’ he loudly cried,
And fanned her with a glove;
Then dashed some water in her face,
But sue was dead in love.
She soon came to; came others too
To see what meant such noise;
And soon the shop quite overflowed
With women, men and boys.
“I’m thine till death.” she sighed; said he,
“What mean these words I hear?”
“Oh, Mr. Jones, how can you ask?
You told me 1 was dear."
“Oh, Heavens ” he cried; “the price I meant—
l had no thought of you!
But I surrender; I discern
What w oman's wit can do.
“Your lot’s a lonely one at best,
And mine’s a lonely life;—
A partner I will be to yon,
Aud you shall be my wife.
“Let’s wed at once,” and wed they were;
As down life's stream they glide,
They feel, though single heretofore,
They now float with the tied.
[From the Baltimoju Sunday Telegram.]
BOMBARDMENT OF FREDER
ICKSBURG.
A RKMI VWCFA’tE.
BY I). F.
The morning of tho 14tli of De
cember, 1862, was ushered in l>v tin) thun
dering roar of artillery that beMii and fortli
6re, and smoke and iron hail those
“avaunt couriers” o? death and misery—on
the doomed city of Fredericksburg, .So,
after along season of inaction, waiting for
the pontoons*—that seemed would never
come, but came at last; even at the elev
enth hour—the ball was opened by the
Army of the Potomac. And right royally
did they commence the fun, as peal on
peal, aud salvo alter salvo of the cannon
rang out on the morning air, making the
Welkins ring, and the old hills and valleys
re-echo with the fearful clamors of war !
We were that morning aroused from our
tefits by a verbal summons, instead of the
regular revelilc of the, “ear-piercing life
and spirit-stirring drum.” This was done
for fear of attracting the attention of the
enemy. Asa soldier is always supposed to
be ready for any emergency, very little
time elapsed ere we had our horses bridled,
.unhitched from the picket line, and march
ing in column of twos to water. The wa
tering p. ocess was of short duration, for
the brook was not many hundred yards
from camp; and the weather being cold
and frosty, the horses drank but little,
tin our arriv lin camp orders were given
to “harness up and hitch in,” and feed our
horses from the nose-bags, so as to be
ready to move at a moment's notice. Af
ter executing these orders we then attend
ed to No. 1; taking a hasty breakfast of hot
coffee, hard tack (pilot bread,) and a junk
of “salt horse,” as the boys termed the
daily ration of boiled beef, which was is
sued to them alternately with fat pork. By
this time, “the grey-eyed morn was smil
ing over the frowning night,” but still,
the cannonading was kept up incessantly,
while we were anxiously awaiting orders
from the command to advance, and take
our turn in the fight. None but a soldier
can understand the trying ordeal that is
undergone while within hearing of the din
of battle, and having to stand inactive, ex
pecting every moment to see a mounted
orderly in full gallop with a peremptory
summons to advance to the front i To
many, it is the signal to march onward to
fame and glory; to others, the dread com
mand to rush into the very jaws of death
and never return. About nine o’clock A.
M., the long looked-for order came, and
we were on the march for the battle field.
A dense fog hung over the landscape, leav
ing little to be seen save the ground under
our feet. When near the line of battle, a
battery passed us to the rear. The guns
were begrimed with powder, and one of
them was dismounted and trailed to the
gun carriage by means of a prolonge. This
was the battery we were going to relieve,
which was very encouraging by the way,
but we found, on inquiry, that the cause of
the disaster was not by "the enemy, but by
the rapid firing and rebounding of the car
riage on the hard aud frozen ground. On
arriving at the front we took Our position
*‘en battery,” and commenced firing. Af
ter some random shots we soon got range
of the ill-fated city, our position being
right over it on the northen bank of the
Rapahannock. The firing was continued
till about two o’clock I’. M., and, strange
to say, not a solitary shot was returned by
the enemy up to that time. At last a gun was
discharged from beyond the town, send
ing a shell, which burst about ten yards in
front of us, the fragments passing harm
lessly over our heads to the rear. When
I say our fire was not returned, I refer
strictly to artillery, as the rebel intantry
were tyring with deadly precision from the
houses and barricades along the southern
bank of the river on our men, who were
struggling bravely to throw a pontoon
bridge “over the water to .Johnny;” in
which they utterly failed, for it was im
possible to stand the showers of bullets
that were cutting the poor fellows down
VOL. I.
like grass before the scythe. It was then
“the forlorn hope” of creasing the river in
boats, with detachments, was resorted to,
And now commenced the excitement!
Col. (Polly) f Hunt, chief of artillery, rode
up to our battery, ordering us to concen
trate our fire on certain houses where the
rebel sharpshooters were concealed, deal
ing death and destruction among our brave
fellows. As the boats were crossing, some
of the men were wounded, but the mo
ment they landed and were rushing up the
bank, many of them were shot down never
to rise again, their dark blouses oansing
them to Look like black lumps on the deso
late shore. But our men being constantly
reinforced by the landing of fresh detach
ments, the town was taken by storm and
the laying of tlie bridge accomplished.
Now began the dreadful carnage! The
night hail thrown her dark mantle over
friend aud foe, but still the deadly strife
went on. Some shouting out above the
roar of musketry and clash of arms, —go
in, company “l I" while others cried out
murder ! as they were pinned to the walls
by the bayonets, or clubbed to death by
the muskets of the victorious.
It was my lot during the war to he pres
ent nt many a w ild and terrible struggle,
but this fearful scene shall never be erased
from my memory. It thrilled the blood
of the stoutest heart, tilling the soul with
an unearthly, sickening horror of man's
inhumanity to man. But such scenes
have been enacted since the world was
first inhabited, and will be again and
again till the last trump shall sound—
“ Tfis true,'tis pity ; anil, pity ’tie, 'tis true."
In view of these sad, but nevertheless
truthful realities, olio is naturally led to
think what is this so-called civilization of
ours that cannot substitute this more than
barbarous method of settling the difficul
ties of nations with something more wor
thy of Christianity. As it is now, man
appears neither more nor less than a white
; washed animal, that needs but the slight
! eat provocation to fling off the tliinsv mask
! of refinement, and assume a more brutal
| and blood-thirsty nature than the fiercest
i tiger in the jungles of India. And this
| miserable condition of humanity springs
i from the disobedience of the two great
commandments —love of God and of our
j neighbor. Hence we are selfish, ambi
i tious aud revengeful. Let us hope that a
! new era may dawn upon the World when
I enmity between individuals and nations
i may be looked on as a thing of the past,
land that peace and good will may reign
forever in the hearts of all mankind.
The day after the bombardment the
' whole army crossed the Rapahannock, and
|ns the infantry advanced up the heights
I they were cut to pieces by the cross-fire,
iof the rebel batteries. But our men
pressed on in regiments and brigades across
the railroad and up to the ramparts of the
| enemy that literally bristled with bayonets
I and cannon. It was a useless sacrifice of
; human life, as the splendid position of
I the Confederate forces rendered it im
! possible to carry their works, or force
them to come out and fight in the open
field. As to getting our guns in position,
it was out of the question. I remember
B‘eing one battery—the (Sixth Wisconsin.
I think—without men enough to drive
the horses, as the drivers and canuoniers
were nearly all slaughtered in the vain
attempt to return the fire of the enemy.
I In a word, the whole army of the Potomac
! was disastrously defeated and driven back
; to the verge of the river in a hopeless
mass, without during to advance or re-
I treat from it* perilous position for fear of
being enfiladed by the now victorious foe.
The night subsequent to the defeat of
the Union army, the Confederate chief
tains held a council of war to determine
the next best move to complete their vie
toiy by annihilating or “bagging” up the
entire Yankee forces in front of them.
The brave and chi v alrous “Stonewall”
Jackson was present on the occasion, but
sat silent and motionless, as if asleep, w ith
his old slouch hat drawn down over his
eyes, apparently indifferent to all around
him. As opinions were given and re
ceived the scene became intensely ex
citing. At last “Stonewall” was called on
to ex press liis ideas on the subject. Ha
curtly replied, without stirring from his
seat or removing his hat—“drive ’em into
the river!”
For some unaccountable reason or other
his suggestion was not acted upon; if it
had 1 fear that, same river would have been
glutted with the bodies of tlie living and
the dead.
That night—probably while the council
was in session—-a rumor was set afloat
among our men that a grand charge was
going to be made by the Ninth Army
Crops on the rebel fortifications. Of
course the w ildest conjectures weri formed
at this startling announcement, when the
command was given in a whisper to fall
in, and, as the column set in motion
wheeling to tlie right over the bridge,
then, -a tie- first time, we knew we
retreating.
Even at that trying moment, when de
tails of men were throwing clay on the
bridge to deaden the sound of the artillery
—“for fear the very stones might prate of
our whereabouts” —a rollicking friend of
mine, an Irishman of course, described to
me a very ludicrous figure which I would
be likely to cut in case the enemy opened
fire on us while crossing. I happened to
have on a very large overcoat, which
nearly trailed the ground, and my Hiber
nian friend, attracted no doubt “by tlie
tail of,my coat,” was tempted to say “that
at the first shot from the Johnnies, my
head would be far in advance of my feet,
putting for the rear with my long-tailed
coat flying behind me, inquiring vocifer
ously how far it was to Washington !”
The shades of the friendly night saved
us from sharing the fate of the Austrians
at Austerlitz, who were butchered while
i retreating by the first Napoleon. And so
the army of the Potomac returned from
whence it came, with wiser but fewer
men.
I had an opportunity, while our troops
were in possesion of the town, of witness
ing the excesses of a rude soldiery as
rushed wildly through the deserted houses,
destrovirig mngnifiicent libraries, and
drumming, with rough untutored hands,
the grand pianos, on which but a few
hours before the fair daughters of Freder-
I icksburg discoursed most exquisit musics
j Barrels of flour, pork, articles of wear-
I ing apparel, cooking utensils,in fact every
i thing thatcould not be used on the moment,
was ruthlessly flung in the streets and
I trampled under foot, denoting the full
| sway of unbridled license, and the red de
j vasting hand oi the demon of war. Xhe
; town was literally gutted. The houses
j. riddled with shot and shell, and to add to
the desolation of the scene, uot a solitary
i inhabitant was visible, as all received
QUITMAN, G.V., SATURDAY, MARCH 28, 1874.
warning to leave twenty-four hours before
the bombardment commenced, particularly
the women and children.
The reader may imagine my astonish
ment then at beholding the strange sight
of a woman, with three little children,
coming up from a cellar where they lay
concealed in fear and terror, while the
deadly mission of the fierce cannonade
shrieked and crashed around them, and
the wild shouts of the combatants and the
groans of the wounded and dying rang iu
their ears.
It afforded me and a comrade soldier
the greatest pleasure of our lives to be able
to assist her aud the little children, who
were bitterly crying for their father, that
perhaps had fallen in the battle.
The children, two boys and a girl, were
very young and helpless. The oldest boy
was staggering along with his little brother
iu his arms, while the poor mother was
striving to wheel a barrow on which was a
large feather bed and bedding, with the
little girl sitting on the top. The poor
woman's object was to get into our lines to
seek protection and sustetinnee, which I
am lmppy to say was granted her.
The bridge across the river being long,
and the northern bank very steep, the des
titute little family could never succeed in
making the journey alone. So my friend
volunteered to wheel the barrow, while I
relieved the boy of his infant brother, and,
enrrving him in my arms, wo landed
safely on the other side with our forlorn
Charge.
Had I been the most distinguished gen
eral of the army, and succeeded in win
ning a brilliant victory, I could not have
felt prouder on parting from that poor
mother and her little ones, as she prayed
to A1 nighty God to save us from the dan
gers and perils of the battlefield.
I think her prayer was heard, for myself
and comrade escaped from the slaughter
without, receiving a wound.
And through the dark period of the re
bellion, which now seems to me like a
weird dream, is passed and gone forever,
yet there are many thrilling incidents that
oceured during that time that J shall never
forget; in some of which I took an active
part, while in others I Was but a mere
looker on; but foremost in my mind, of all
my adventures of the war, is the bombard
ment of Fredericksburg and the. miracu
lous escape of the desolate little family
from its ruins.
*M:my attribute Burnside's defeat to the delay
occasioned by the nou-arrival of these boats.
fCalled so for Ms almost motherless kindness to
tin: men under bis command.
Jia'thnore, March It, 1874.
-***
Cause of the Late War.
Judge John A. Campbell, in a letter to
Col. Geo W. Mnmford, refers to the ques
tions which have sprung from the Adams
eulogy of Mr. Seward. Judge Campbell
thinks that if the counsels of Mr. Howard
had been followed, war would have been
averted. It is his opinion that Mr. Sew
ard alone, of Mr. Lincoln’s Cabinet, shed
a raj'of light iu the darkest hour of the
Republic, and that he earnestly desired
the maintenance of the peace of the Unit
ed States. Wlmt was regarded at the
South as indecision of Mr. Lincoln a
Cabinet, was the effort of tlie fiercer el. -
ments who called fora display of what was
termed in tlie cant of the day, “Jacksoni
an energy,” to overrule the more concilia
tory policy of Seward. What was regarded
at the South us a broken pledge of the Lin
coln Administration that affairs at Charles
ton harbor should remain in statu quo was
simply a victory of those who desired a
war which might lead to emancipation over
those like Mr. Seward, who desired an
amicable adjustment consistent with the
honor of the North and South.
Judge Campbell may be correct in the
belief that had Mr. Seward’s advice been
followed, an immediate outbreak of war
between the South and tlie North would
have been prevented; but even this, we con
sider a service hardly worthy of recogni
tion. Many of the Southern States had
already withdrawn from the Union when
Mr. Lincoln’s solemn compact was violat
ed, and it is barely possible that delay and
subsequent reflection would have brought
them back voluntarily, or prevented other
States from joining in I his revolution.
And that war was inevitable upon a per
sistence of the Southern States in the
course they laid marked out for themselves,
wc have not. a doubt. This is evident from
the fierceness of Northern fanaticism at
the time, and the arrogance with which
their public men, including Mr. Seward,
declared the rebellion would be crushed
out and the Union restored in less than
sixty days. This was the general boast,
and Mr. Seward’s positive assurance in his
diplomatic intescouse with foreign gov
ernments. When we look back at events,
it is clear to us that separation and war
were but questions of time. The. agitation
against the South, which had been pro
gressing step by step for thirty years, had
at last become strong enough to take pos
session of the government and wield its
powers, as was often declared, for the final
extinction of slavery. Honor, manhood,
interest, everything held dear by the South,
were at stake, aud it became evident that
the Union and peace could be preserved
alone by the sacrifice of them all.
We hope Judge Campbell does not ad
vance the opinion referred to above with
the view of qualifying the verdict of histo
ry on the public career of William H. Sew
ard. He was, from the beginning, the
arch agitator in the war upon the domestic
institutions of the South, He was the au
thor, or friend and active abettor of every
measure, opinion, or sentiment that made
the Union odious and intolerable, and
finally drove the Southern States into rev
olution. He was the satanic head-centre
of the whole infernal crew, whose vocation
and delight for twenty years was to insult
the South, breed discord among a united
people, and make the government hateful
to one whole section of the Union. If his
torians assign him any other place in
American annals, they will write down a
libel and a lie.— Atlanta Hernia.
It is related of the late Senator Wigfall
that on the collapse of the Confederacy,
while crossing the Mississippi to make his
way into Mexico, in the assumed character
of an ultra Union man, he was informed
by a Federal soldier, who was on board
the ferry-boat, of the intense satisfaction
he would experience if lie could fall in
and hang to the topmost limb of' the tall
est tree the Texan arch-traitor. ‘ ‘Yes, I
too would be pulling at one end of the
rope,” vehemently remarked Wigfall.
♦♦♦
Three old boots, a gaiter and a hoop
skirt in front of a house indicate that the
family has moved.
SUNDAY IN RUSSIA.
[St. Petersburg Letter ]
The hells were ringiug all this morning.
But that is so common an occurrence in
Russia that of itself would hardly distin
guish Sunday from any other day. The
shops, however, were closed in all the main
thoroughfares. There was a greater crowd
than usual in the streets, notwithstanding
the snow, which came down iu heavy
flukes, though up to a late hour on the
previous night the weather would have
Been considered warm even in London at
this time of year; aud the roadside shrines
were beset with more than their usual mul
titude of worshipers, kneeling and praying
before the pictures of tin: Saviour aud the
Virgin. To-day is a festival in the Greek
Church, and I have spent the morning lis
tening to the Russian service. To say that
1 followed the service would be a misstate
ment. Even if my knowledge of Russian
were as copious as it is limited —and that
is saying a good deal -it would have bean
impossible to understand the words of the
chanted liturgy, sung as it was, in a tone
purposely designed so as not “to be Under
stunded of the people.” But by the kind
assistance of a friend, and the aid of a
translation of the prayers, i was enabled to
understand the general outline of tlie ser
vice fully as well, 1 suspect, as the majori
ty of tho congregation. The whole service
is conducted by the priests, and the con
gregation, beyond bowing at stated inter
vals anti crossing themselves from time to
time, takes no part whatever in the cere
monial. Of course, my observations are
confined to the churches of the capital. In
the country, no doubt, things are man
aged less decorously, aud, probably, also
with more display of fervor. Bnt, just as
the service is substantially the same in
Westminster Abbey, so the ritual perform
ed at tho Metropolian church at St. Peters
burg is identical with that in any remote
Russian village.
On entering the Greek churches of the
capital, not excepting even the grandest—
that on the Isoao’s place—you are struck
with something of the feeling which im
presses jou on your first entry into one of
our English cathedrals. The space
seems too large for the worshipers; the
absence of side-chapels gives a certain
empty aspect to the vast space. The stage
if 1 may use the metaphor as applied to
the altar, appears too small for the house;
the number of actors thereon too limited
for the grandeur of the spectacle. The
altar, w hich stands at the short end of the
Greek cross which forms the shape of uli
great Russian churches is hidden from
view by the golden trellis-worked gates,
and the priest officiating at the entrance
of the Holy of Holies is almost lost to view
amid the crowd which throngs the nave
and transepts. The walls, indeed, arc cov
ered with pictures of the holy Family, the
faces enshrined with halos of solid gold,
the frames inlaid with jewels and precious
stones; but still these side pictures have
not the knots of worshipers around them
you see gathered about the side altars in
Catholic churches; and somehow the eon
gregaton itself seems to be e. niposed
rather of lookers-on than of partakers in
the service performed before the high
altar. Scattered all about the church are
stalls, at which a brisk trade is being car
ried on in wax tupors. No credit is given;
and tlie chaffering between tlie hucksters
and the customers is carried on with an
eagerness somewhat inconsistent with our
notions of the decorum due to the fact
that the service is going on while the bar
gain is being completed. You can buy
any sort of taper, from one as big as your
fist to one as slender as your little finger;
and tho price seems not only in accordance
with the size of the candle, but with the
costliness of the demand and the presumed
means of the purchaser. At the same
stalls, too, you can buy bread that has been
blessed by the Popes, illuminated lives of
the saints to whom the church is especially
devoted, and all sorts of sacred badges.
But the chief article of this church barter
consists of tapers. Having got your ta
pers, you may offer them at any shrine you
t4iiuk fit to favor. Before each of the pic
tures of the Saviour, the Virgin or the
Apostles, with which the church walls are
adorned, hangs a sort of iron chandelier,
fitted with upright iron spikes, on which
you may affix your taper. There is a fash
ion about these chandeliers as about all
other things mundane or spiritual. On
some chandeliers there is such a rush that
every spike is occupied, and you have to
wait till some taper has guttered out, and
then you can place your own in its stead.
Other chandeliers, again, show a perfect
forest of empty spikes to a beggarly array j
of candles.
Meanwhile, though the service is pro- j
ceeding, there is a constant coming and ;
going throughout the Church’. People are |
constantly entering and departing; there, j
are little crowds about the stalls and the 1
chandeliers. The droning singing of the
priest swells from time to time, a burst of
sounds, and then dies away till it becomes
almost inaudible. The incense vessels are j
swung to and fro; the heavy fragrance of
the spice fills the building, and then
passes away; and still the endless chant
ing goes on without ceasing. The crowd!
which fills the church is a very mixed one.
Ladies in furs and sables, with bonnets
placed on the backs of their high chig
nons and immense “poufs” swelling out
their fur-lined velvet mantles, officers in
full uniform, Moujiks in sheepskin coats,
I common soldiers, nurses, children, beg- j
gars iu tattered nondescript garments, all
stand side by side in the crowd, which,
whether in nave or transept, turns its face
toward the altar. There are neither pews
nor chairs, nor seats of any kind. Every
body stands throughout the whole service.
Bowings, crossings, kneelings there are
innumerable; but, in as far as a spectator
can judge, they are made at no particular
point of the service, in accordance with no
common signal, but according to the ca
price of each individual worshiper. Ever
and anon the persons around you drop
one by one upon their knees. Some sim
ply kneel, others throw themselves pros
trate upon the pavement and kiss the
stones; other, again, bend themselves al
most double, till their foreheads touch the
ground near their feet. But the obeisance,
; however low it may be, lasts only fora few
| seconds, and, seen from a little distance,
; the crowd looks like a field of heavy corn
under a strong wind, in which, though ev
ery stalk is bowed from time to time be
| neath the breeze, flic mass of stalks still
j stands upright. The men are as decent to
! outward semblance as the women,and in all
the churches I entered the men, contrary
to our Western practice, were largely iu
the majority.
And now, bearing in mind always the
constant geiiuflxious and crossing, tho
noveronding chanting, the savor of in
case wafted throuhout the church, let me
try and tell, as best I could follow it, how
the service was performed on this Sunday
morning. First of all, then, the priest,
attired in robes of stiff gilt brocade, with
the long hair hanging about his shoulders,
advanced to the alter,placed over his shoul
ders the Epitrachelion, supposed to sym
bolize the grace of tlie Holy Ghost, and
filled the incense vessel with the sacred
herbs, and uttered the following prayer:
"To Thee, O Christ, our Lord, we offer
tip incense as a spiritual savor; raise it to
Thy altar in Heaven, and send down upon
us the grace of Thy Hbly Spirit.” Then
taking his place before the altar the priest,
made the sign and sang forth, “Glory be
to God now and forever, from everlasting
to everlasting. ”
At this stugo the curtains which shroud
ed the gates leading to the high alter were
thrown back, the priest walked round the
shrine, swinging the incense ns he walked,
aud the aeoltyte chanted forth, “Come and
kneel before God our Lord, come and
kneel and fall down before Christ our God
and King, come and prostrate yourselves
before Christ Himself, onr Sovereign
Lord.” Throughout the church there was
a rustle as man, woman and child bowed
themselves to the ground, and then the
choir burst forth with the Nineteenth
Psalm, ending with the Doxology. There
was a moment’s pause, and then the priest,
intoned the Trisagiou, a clmnt, having this
name from its being repeated thrice in the
same words. It runs thus: “0 Holy Lord,
Holy Savior, Holy Everlasting, have mer
cy upon us ! Glory to the Father, the Son,
and the Holy Ghost, now and forever,
from everlasting to everlasting. Amen !
All Holy Trinity, have mercy upon us; pu
rify us, O Lord, from ouij sins; forgive us,
Lord, our transgressions; seek out our
short, comings, Holy God, mid heal them,
for Thy mercy’s sake. Lord have mercy.”
Then again came the Doxology and the
Lord’s Prayer, and when the priest had
pronounced the blessing the deacon reader
sang forth the lesson. Again there were
crossings and kneelings amid the crowd,
and one.' more the priest lifted up his voice
in the following prayer; “Lord, save Thy
people and bless thine inheritance. Grant
victory to our pious rulers over their op
ponents, and protect Thy chosen people
with Thy cross. Glory to the Father, the
Son and the Holy Ghost. O Christ,, Thou
who placed Thyself upon the cross of Thy
own will, our Lord and God, send down
L’hy mercy upon this flock of Thine, call
ed after Thee; rejoice our pious rulers with
Thy might; grant them victory over their
enemies, so that they may have Thy aid,
the weapons of peace and unassailable glo
ry in battle. Now and forever, from ever
lasting to everlasting. Amen. O Thou,
the Mother of God, only to be addressed
with awe and with guileless approach, do
not despise our prayer. Strengthen the
communion of the faithful, uphold the pi
ous rulers whom Thou hast, culled to rule.
Grant Thou victory from Heaven, Thou
blessed among women, inasmuch as Thou
hast begotten (kid.
These prayers will probably suffice to
show the general character of the service.
To repeat them all would require more
space than I could ask, and the repititions
in the ritual arc almost endless. The cli
max in the service, if I may use the word,
consists in the throwing open of the gates
loading to the Holy of Hollies, when the
Holy Scriptures are carried down from the
high altar, aud the sacred chalice is hand
ed to the priest. But as an ecclesiastical
spectacle, the service is wanting in its cul
minating point. The congregation fakes
as little part therein us in a Catholic
church, and yet the priests have not that
air of command which in the churches of
the Latin faith appears to absorb the at
tention of the worshipers. Sermon there
is none, aud the whole service reminds you
of the, prayers in a Mohammedan mosque
without the appearance of rapt devotion on
the part of the worshipers, which, to my
mind, renders the service of the Moslem
the grandest in outward semblance of all
the forms in which men meet to worship
God.
Tlie Grant Parish Trial.
From the following remarks of the New
Orleans Picayune of Saturday, may be
gathered a pretty correct idea of the char
acter of the Grant Parish eases now under
going trial before the United States Court
in that city:
The Republican has realized the embar
rassment and illustrated the impropriety
of commenting on the testimony in a
criminal prosecution during its progress.
It has published several editorial articles
on this case, and assuming the truth of
the depositions of the numerous negro
witnesses for the prosecution, has gone
so far as to presume the guilt of the ac
cused, designating them as proven mur
derers, and the whole affair as a cruel and
brutal butchery. These conclusions
would be justified by the premises—but
now that the evidence begins to expose
a very different state of circumstances;
when witnesses, most of then white, and
some of them persons who had been en
gaged on tho negro side of the controversy
and who are well known Radicals, testify
so fully and specifically to the preparations
and invitations of the negro party, to de
cide, a contested election by wagers of
battle, and to install as the duly elected
Sheriff, a man who in open court declares
that he was not elected; when it is shown
by their own confederates that they would
not listen to any propositions from their
leaders for a compromise and peaceful
settlement; when their various warlike
preparations, their drilling, tfieir mount
ing iron pipes loaded with sings aud
“blue whistlers,” their division into
military bodies, and other like demonstra
tions of a fierce and unappeasable thirst
for war and bloodshed are established,
the case assumes a different character, aud
should admonish all outsiders to restrain
the expression of their judgment, and the
forestalling the verdict of the jury,
—— *4
A Coincidence. —The following is rela
ted by the Portsmouth (N. H.) Chronicle:
“A schooner named in honor of the first
man whoever dared openly to advocate, in
the United States Senate, universal free
dom for all men without regard to color,
was an occasional visitant to this port for
many years; she was gennerally fortunate,
and the John P. Halo was considered a
very ‘lucky’ vessel. On the day when the
Senatorial pioneer of abolitionism breathed
I his last at Dover, and very nearly at the
same hour wc are informed that the
I schooner John P. Hale went ashore on
‘Norman’s Woe,’ a rock off Cape Ann,
Mass., and wobroken into fragments by
the sea—the hero Philanthropist and the
staunch little vessel bearing his name clo
sing their career at the same time.”
A LADY IN BREECHES.
Philadelphia has a sensation in the re
cent discovery and arrest of a beatiful lit
tle—girl or rather young lady dressed in
male attire. The reporter who received
this item for the New York Herald thus
describes her:
“There was something eo earnest and
sincere in the little fellow’s countenance
and a grace remarkable in every movement
that instinctively 1 paused to take a
second look at him. The face was dainty
and oval, the eyes full sparkling, the nose
Grecian, the lips full and delicately moul
ded and the forehead crowned with a
wealth of coal-black hair.
The following is the reporter’s virsion of
the interview;
“What is your name?” Tasked “Ber
tie Winkler,” she answered, promptly
raising her head and fixing her full eyes
steadily upon me. Her quaint costume
contrasted strangely with her bright,
healthy handsome face. The dingy
breeches, the tight fitting coat., the rude j
shoes and the coarse cheviot si r ill b -
enroe one so dainty and so young. Her
dark raven hair was cropped short, and
parted low upon the side, just like a boy’s.
“Where is jour home?” I naked. “In
Keysville Charlotte county, Virginia,” she
replied.
‘Why did you leave home ? Tell me
all about yourself,” I went on. “About
your parents, your age, your life and
your condition.”
Her answer was plain, straightforward
and frank, bright, honest and humorous
I give it in her exact words.
“My parents are German and they are
very old; they are also very poor. It
was as much as they could do to support
themselves. Often I have looked upon
my poor mother and pitied her, she was
old and her family so large to keep. I
am only sixteen. One day I thought I
could assist rnv mother by going out in
I the world and working for myself. I
j told her all my thoughts, and slit: said
j that I might go. She kissed me when I
I went away and told me never to forget
| that I was a lady and that, she was my
! mother. I went to Richmond, the con
| doctor of the cars allowing me to ride j
| free. I there first put upon me the clothes
j of a boy.”
BREECHED FOll PROTECTION.
“Why” I asked.
“Well,” she answered, modestlj', “I did
1 not want to be insulted, and I thought
j a boy’s ‘outfit would protect me better
| than a girl’s. I just laughed when I put
j tho clothes on, though,” she continued,
smiling, “because everywhere I placed my
hands there seemed to be a pocket. I
went to the captain of a steamer bound
for Philadelphia, and, telling him liow i
poor I was and how much 1 wanted to
help my mother, I asked him if he would i
not let me pay my way to the North by ;
i working upon his vessel. The Captain |
J was very kind, and told me I was too j
[ young to do work and that he would let i
(me ride just like a passenger. The Cop-;
! tain never dreamed that I was a little
I girl. He never once suspected it. I
j never told him; he does not know it yet.
| All were generous and good to me on
j the steamer; no one ever spoke an unkind i
i word. I arrived here about January. I
| was idle for some weeks and found it so
j hard to live. By and by I went into the j
| shooting gallery and he gave me a place. J
! I have been there until to-day. No one j
j ever suspected my being a girl; no one I
, insulted me, The proprietor himself did
| not know my sex until this morning when
| the officer came, I learned to shoot first
j rate. I hit the centre of the target ten
| times once one right after the other. One
j day a great big man came in the gallery
and he Was drunk. He shot many times
j aud then would not pay. I made him pay, i
: and then he began to swear. I just put j
all my strength against him and pushed j
; him right out. All the men laughed and
; I felt afraid of what I had done. I had a
; nice boarding place. I roomed all alone
by myself; you can ask the Women who
; owns the house if I did not. My mother
j knows where I am, only she is a German j
| and when she hears that I have been ar- j
rested she will think that they have taken !
Ime to jail. I have never done anything |
j wrong, I was known at the gallery as |
I Louis Winkler.”
VIRTUOUS AND FEARLESS.
“But,” your correspondent interrupted,
j “were you not in constant dread of being;
insulted ?”
“No,” she answered. “Why should I
! have been. I was doing my duty, aud
was not ashamed to work. If a person
j does right she will never suffer. My boy’s
! clothes kept me from insult, and no one
found me out. I have ulwnj's sent my
mother money—-just as much as I could
| spare. Ask the chief of Police if he will
i not let me write a letter to my mother now.
| I want to so much. She will be worried i
I about her little girl.”
Such was the story Bertie told me. The
police cross-question her, and found in her j
statements no discrepances or coutmdie
j tious. Her identity was discovered by a j
j party residing near her home, who in- <
; formed the police, and brought about her
arrest,
A lady came to see the little waif and
1 interviewed her alone. When she came
outshe pronounced Bertie a thorough and
perfect little lady, whose truth, sincerity
| and virtue could not be doubted. In a
half hour Bertie became a great favorite.
Everbody wanted to talk with her. No
one. could help laughing at the little Crea
: tun; sitting there so gracefully, dressed in
those rude and ridiculous habiliments.
She seemed so ’cute, so bright, so full of
innocent coquetry and mirth. She spoke
in English and in German with equal flu
ency, and after an interview held with her
by Mr. Smith, of the Herman Democrat,
he informed me that she was exccedly well
educated aiul as well versed in Geiman lit
erature as could be possibly expected in
! one so young ns her; ei,. The police are
i doing all in their power to render her
comfortable, and have communicated with
her parents, telling them that no harm has
befallen or will befall her.
She will go through the world all right.
There is too much purity in her to be sul
lied.
4*4
The Lynchburg (Va.) Republican
learns that the Rev. Dr. W. E. Munsey
has been appointed by Bishop Pierce, of
Georgia, to fill a vacancy in the pulpit of
the leading Methodist Episcopal Church
South in Augusta, Ga., at a salary of
#4,000. It is understood that the Doc
tor’s health has greatly improved of late,
and that lie will accept the position ten
dered him.
At least one-half of the horses in New
York city are said to be suffering from the
new epizootic.
MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS.
Ruled paper—Tho Freuoh press.
Jones calls his boarding lums a hacienda.
It is impossible to have tho last word
with a chemist, because he always hs a
retort.
In pocket-picking, as in everything
else, man never succeeds until he gets his
hand iu.
A rough but plain speaker Hays: “Pro
hibition does not exist in Massachusetts
—dot by a jug-fuU.”
There are over fonateen and a half
million of children of the school uge iu
t is country.
It is said of a saloon-keeper recently
conquered by the Ohio temperance peo
ple that he never “smiled” again.
A New Bedford paper with a misprinted
veracity announces that that, city now has
an “uninformed police.”
A Milwaukee dry goods clerk wears a
shingle under his shirt front to keep the
wrinkles in subjection.
Female Exquisite—“ Quite a nice ball
at Mrs. Millet) eur’s, wasn’t it ?” Male
ditto—“lndeed, really most, quite.”
A little girl of eight or ten summers
being asked what dust was, replied
that it was mud with the juice squeezed
out.
A preacher recently took for his text,
“How old art thou ?” and a crowd of Indies
of uncertain age left the church in high
dudgeon.
A Detroit woman gives all the bottles
and worn-out hoop-skirts about the house
to the poor, and wonders how big her
bank-account is above !
Nature provides no reserved seats for
the rich and daintily reared. When there
is iee on the pavement, they sit where
they can.
Charles Kingsley saj-s he hopes that
so me American will lie buried in West
minister Abbey, and the Boston Rost bogs
him to take Butler right away.
An Aberdeen philosopher has extracted
the following reply from an advanced free
school lad to the query “How is the earht
divided ?” “By eorthquukes, sir.”
It wan a Canadian road, anil the hrake
nntn had called out in sonorous voice,
“Tecswater !” when an argumentative pa*-
senger got up and exclaimed, “It’s a lie ! ’
The latest trick of the frequent hoy is to
chalk an envelope on tho door sill in the
evening, and then ring the bell. It is im
possible to pick up the letter.
“Whydon’t you give us a little Greek
and Latin occasionally?” asked a country
deacon of anew minister. "Why. do you
understand those languages ?” “No; but
we pay for the best, and ought to have
it.”
It is said that the Colorado Legislature
has two Mexican members who can neither
speak nor understand the English lan
guage. Most any Legislature can beat
that as to the matter of speaking the En
glish language.
The Legislature of Rhode Island has
submitted the question of female snffrago
to a vote of the people, and the constitu
tional convention of Ohio is discussing a
proposition to dispose of the subject in
the same way.
“Do you go to Sabbath school, my lad ?”
kindlj’ asked a city missionary of a de
praved little Dilbtiqtie urchin. “Nary,”
answered tho innocent child; “but I've
got a figlitin cock that can walk over any
bird in this town that wears gafl’s.”
A Danbury boy reporting small pox in
school was kept at home one day, but bis
father, inquiring into fho facts, sent liiiq
to school next day. Ho anxiously inquir
ed of a fellow pupil from the Sixth Ward
where he could get the small pox ; be wan
ted to “bother father and die, to let him
know that he meant things.”
California seems to have passed a most
ingenious liquor law. Among other fea
tures, it makes it a misdemeanor for one
gentleman to ask another gentleman to
take a drink. It used to be common
enough in Kentucky for one gentleman
to knock over another gentleman for re
fusing to drink with him. But California
is very much ahead of Kentucky.
American Honor.
Whatever little respect for the American
flag may have survived the Virginias
affair has been destroyed by a disgraceful
act of selfish cowardice on the part of the
captain of one of the regular steamers
plying between this oity afid Havana.
Three Cubans, foolishly trusting to the
hospitality and honor of Americans, stowed
themselves away on the City of New
York steamship, and, having been dis
covered at sea, the captain put hack and
delivered the men over to the Spanish ai *
thorities, well knowing that their doom
was sealed. The passengers were naturally
indignant, hut tho captain had mere dread
of offending the Spanish authorities than
of committing a flagrant breach of hospi
ta'ity. Cubans ought to learn that they
can only trust themselves, and that no
faith whatever is to be placed in the pru
t> et.ion of a nation whose flag is little bet
ter than a national trademark.— N. Y.
Herald.
Yawcob Dundercoop Explains.
I vns not feel pooty veil dis mornings,
or I vas dell you off dis pisness sooner off
not pefore some under (limes. I peen
drabbled mit a bull, unt 1 don’t got over
it not rite away quick.
Mine vow, Franlied Dunderfcbbp, vas a
booty goot voomans, put if she vas vant,
anything, it vas petter if you gone nut
done it, or ranype dot vill make drubble
mit her house.
She spoke mit me, untdellme dot I gone
out mit dor roods unt get some roots vat
she rants. I gone out y. ost so quick vat
I can, but dot vas not very quick, peoanse
1 vas fat ash putter.
Here vas a pig meadow vat I hev got to
cross, ash I gone to der voods, uud veu 1
git in ter middle dere vas a bull, so. pig ash
a house, vieli come down mit iiis Jail up,
unt a pellow vat make me dink dot it vas
petter off I stay mit der house unt mind
myself.
I tou’t run pooty much, bnt some days
I run petter ash I run udder days, unt dis
vas der day veu I could run. So I gone
uvuy, unt ter bull he gone after me so mad
ash ter tyful.
I liefer vas so mnch scare in swanzey
year tush I vas den. Veil, I falls town, unt
1 runs, tint I falls again, unt a pig bull-tog
conies unt drives avay der bull, unt den be
limits me up a dree, unt keeps me all tay.
Ven he gone avay I come town, unt dink
I vill go home ; but I stop at Hans Fhil
lings unt dukes a glass lager, and ven I
gone home you vood dink Fraiuiett Dnu
derooop vas gone grazv mad, unt nothing
vat 1 says could stop her.
I been lame every since dot time, but 1
dinks der prriomstick hurt me jmost so
m'v 1 ' as dvr bull. Vat vas voudiuli your
self ?
NO. 47.