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Cfiromcfr and jSmftnel.
WEDNESDAY.. .SEPT’BER 15, 1875.
ONLY.
Only a withered violet ?
Ah. there's more than the world knows there!
In the eventide she gave it
As I gazed on her face so fair.
When her glad bine eyes were gleaming
With a loTe that was all for me :
While one little star looked down from afar,
As we kissed 'neath the hawthorn tree!
Only a cmmpled letter ?
I've had it for twenty years,
And each glowing word hallowed
By memory's sacred tears.
And" I've lived in the life she gave me,
When first, in each burning line,
She laid at my feet, with a grace so sweet,
A love that was half divine.
Onlv a golden ringlet ?
lo the world it is nothing more .
lint mv soul it clasps in its glory
To the light of the days of yore ;
And I thrill to its silken softness
In ths depth of my lonely night.
When I think of the grace of a fair young face,
Where lingered its golden light!
Only a life long vision ?
Only a dream of peace ?
Well, well, 'twill be-eomething better
When sorrow and pain shall cease ;
So I’ll cherish these gifts she has left me,
And I’ll render them up to her then;
My dream shall be fled, and my grief shall be
dead.
When her bine eyes gaze on me again!
COME IN BEAUTIFUL DREAMS.
George D. Prentice wrote many pretty
things, but never anything more quietly beauti
ful than the following :
Come in beautiful dreams, love,
Oh ! come to me oft.
When the light wings of sleep
On my bosom lies soft :
Oh come when the sea
In the moon’s gentle light,
Beats softon the air,
Like the pulse of the night—
When the sky and the wave
Wear their loftiest blue,
When the dew’s on die flower,
And the stars on me dew.
Como, in beautiful dreams, love,
Oh! come, and we’ll stray
Where the whole year is crowned
With the blossoms of May—
Where each sound is as sweet
As the coos of the dove,
And the gales are as soft
As the breathing of love :
Where the beams kiss the waves
And the waves kiss the beach,
And our warm lips may catch
The sweet lessons they teach.
Come, in beautiful dreams, love,
Ob ! come, and we’ll fly
Like two winged spirits
Of love through the sky ;
With hand clasped in hand,
On oar dream wings we’ll go,
Wiiere the starlight and moonlight.
Are blending thoir glow ;
And on the bright clouds we’U linger,
Of purple and gold,
'Till the angels shall envy
The bliss they behold.
A FRIEND IN NEED.
Good dog! Come rest that muzzle on my knee
Thy steadfast love is all that’s left for me ;
Tbou art a friend indeed,
Forever true : God knows my bitter need 1
Thou art so honest in thy gravity—
No dimpling smiles and laughing nods from
£ i hoe.
By heaven! it makes me wild
To think how fair her face was when she
smiled!
Can I forget the sweetness of that month —
Sweeter than roses from the roseate South ?
Her low, clear voice, to me,
Was like the soft music heard by night at sea.
Dost thou remember, Pluto, bow one day
She took thy shaggy paw with banter gay ?
Her charms thou didst not see,
Her beauty bad no skill to madden thee.
But I—Oh. Pluto, how I loved the girl!
Her soft brown liair and every little curl,
And bright for all my tears—
A face to womler at through weary years.
rinto, my friend, thou looliest up to me
With blinking eyes, but full of sympathy;
Dumb, loyal, loving, brave,
I know thou will be faithful to the grave.
Had she been faithful—ah ! the very thought
But deepens all the miserysho has wrought,
And darkens my despkir.
It was a cruel God made her so fair!
Is speech denied thee, Pluto ? Better so,
For thou inight’st loam to lie ? Di accents low
She said she loved me well—
Such lies they whisper each to each in hell!
Come, let us go and leave this grief behind ;
Somewhere a little peace we yet may And.
Alas ! and yet alas !
1 know tho maddening vision will not pass.
Peleo Arkwright.
THE LAST SUPPER.
BY .TOAqtJIN MILLER.
“And when they had sung a hymn they went
out into the Mount of Olives.”
What song sang the twelve with tho Saviour ?
When finished the Sacrament wine?
Wero they bowed and subdued in behavior,
Or bold as made bold with a sign ?
Were the hairy breasts strong and defiant ?
Were the naked arms brawny and strong ?
Wore the bearded lips lifted reliant,
Tlirust forth and full sturdy with song !
What sang they ? What sweet song of Zion,
With Christ in their midst like a crown ?
While hero sat Saint Peter, the lion,
And there, like a lamb, with head down,
Sat Saint John, with his silken and raven
Itieh hair on Ins shoulders, and eye#
Lifting up to tlio faces unshaven
Liko a sensitive child’s in surprise.
Was the song as strong fishermen swinging
Their nets full of hope to the sea ?
Or low, like the ripple-wave, singing
Sea songs on their loved Galilee ?
Were they sad with foreshadows of sorrows,
Liko tlio birds tliat sing low when the breeze
Is tip-toe with a tale of te-morrows—
Of earthquakes and singiug of seas ?
All! soft was their song as tho waves are
That fall in low musical moans ;
And sad I should sav as the winds are
That blow by the white gravestones.
THE GOSPEL OF LABOR.
What the South Hays to Her Children.
BY MARGARET J. PRESTON.
(Those noble lines—from the Southern Mag
azine—preaching eloquently the sublime
heroism of Peace, coino with peculiar grace
and effect from a member of Uie sex ever last
to forget the revengeful heritage of War.]
I have smoothed from my forehead its sadness;
’Tie over ! Thank Heaven therefor!
I would hide now with garmeutsof gladness
The sackcloth and aslios Of war.
Net a word of the Past! It has perished.
Gone down in its beauty and gioom ;
Yet because it so proudly was cherished,
Shall we sigh out our years as its tomb ?
But the beauty and honor undaunted.
Still steadfast aud stern as can be ;
Bv the laurels a Jackson has planted,
By the hopes that we buried with Lee-
Let us wrest from the future the guerdons
That to resolute purpose belong :
Let us fling from our spirits their burdeus,
And acquit us liko men and be strong !
1 brine von. compatriots, brothers,
Ah largess ye dare not disdain,
lake Nature's.' that bountiful mother's),
Savaunalis as smooth as the main!
Mv valleys shall whiten all over
\Vith snows never bom of the cold.
And gain, like a SUdas, shall cover
Every slope tharit touches with gold.
The dink of the artisan's hammer
Shall scare from the forest its glooms :
In the brake shall the water-fowl's clamor
Be drowned by the clash of the looms.
Then up from yonr torpor, ye sleepers !
The dream ye are dreaming deceives;
Go forth to tlie fields with the reapers,
And garner the prodigal sheaves.
With flocks gladden meadow and mountains.
With linking herds speckle each hill.
And blend with the splash ofjbe fountain
The rumble and roar of the mill.
Brave hearts that have wielded the sabre,
Stauuch spirits that stood by the gun.
Take heed of the Gospel of Labor;
The old dispensation is done !
Put hands to the plow or endeavor.
Plant foot in ihe deep-furrowed track ;
Set face to the future and never
One wavering moment look back.
For none who desparingly centre
Their thoughts on the By-gone, and ban
The Present are fitted to enter
The on-coming kingdom of man !
The Population of Charleston.—
Mr. George W. Clark, census taker for
Charleston county, has just completed
the census of the city. The entire popu
lation consists of 56,540 souls, against
48,956 in 1870, an increase of 7,584 in
five years. The relative increase of the
white and colored race will be seen by
the following table:
1870. 1875. Increase.
White 22,749 24,528 1,797
Colored 26,173 32,012 5,889
Excess of c010red.4.324 7,484
The aggregate number of voters, as
appears by the present census, is 12,444,
against 11,231 in 1870, an increase of
1,213. A comparison of these figures
with the city vote in 1870 will give an
idea of the comparative voting strength
of the two races:
1870. 1875. Increase.
White 5,104 5,622 518
Colored 5,735 6,822 1,087
In 1870 the colored vote in the city
was 621 in excess of the white vote. In
five years that excess has been increased
to 1,200, nearly double what it was in
1870.
Dr. Mary Walker, supposed to be only
on a visit or on exhibition, has ac
tually hung out a shingle as a practi
tioner in £alt Lake City,
A FIGHT FOR LIFE.
It was in the latter part of November,
in the year 1874, that I found myself at
sunset, on one of the dreariest days I
ever saw, waiting my chances at a little
Arkansas station for a seat in a coach,
which the telegraph operator assured me
would start iu a couple of hours for the
town of C ,my next destination. I
sat in the operator’s little cage, beating
a tattoo with my feet, and for the first
time in a week feeling utterly jaded and
worn out. The door, facing the dense
and gloomy forest outside, looked like
some yawning aperture to a cavern, the
oil lamp inside seeming naturally to in
tensify the inky blackness outside.
The operator, a weary, pale-faced
man, seemed glad of my company, as
he no doubt was, poor old chap, and de
layed me with questions about the
dreary world to which he was attached
only throngh his instrument and an oc
casional newspaper. I ascertained that
the coach generally made the trip iir
about an hour and a half or two honrs.
I suggested the probability that, as the
night promised so bad, perhaps the
coach would lay over; in fact, I rather
hoped that this might be the case, as I
began to hate the idea of being whirled
through that dark woods with a fierce
wind twisting the branches together
overhead, and smashing the dry limbs
and twigs with great noise. The opera
tor declared that, as it was the mail
coach to C ,it would undoubtedly
go, whatever the prospect; as to compa
ny, though, he fancied I would have it
pretty much my own way, as there did
not seem to be any passengers beside
myself. He walked down the platform
to" the station-room, and came back with
the intelligence that it was empty.
Just at that moment a man pushed
the door open and looked in; tho glimpse
I had of him was not enlivening. He
was heavily wrapped, and his face very
nearly covered by a thick, black beard.
The operator, busy at his table, had not
observed the intruder, and I made no
comment except a yawn of general dis
satisfaction. “There’s a house down the
road a quarter of a mile where yon
might stay all night,” ventured the
operator, listlessly turning the pages of
the last year’s almanac, not raising his
eyes at ail. Mine was not a suspicious
nature, and vet I took no heart in his
suggestion, and began to think all man
ner of thiDgs about the man with the
almanac. A house down the road. I
went to the door and looked out. The
man who had looked iu on us had been
sitting on the step formed by the
threshold. I was sure it was the same.
He got up hastily and walked down the
platform; not glancing back. T ob
served then that be wore a heavy captoe
cloak and low hat. The wind blew a
hurricane and there was not a Btar
visible; as to road I could see none, nor
in fact anything, but about twelve inches
of the frosty rails on which the opera
tor’s lamplight fell.. I closed the door
suddenly as if I had retired within. I
cannot say that it was my purpose to
watch the man in the cloak, but I closed
the door.
It was very dark on the platform, ex
cept under the grimy window. The
man came back softly, and I scraped a
wax taper to light a cigar. The black
beard and a pair of glittering eyes were
within two feet of me. Was he dis
concerted? He walked on the other
side of the platform leisurely. The
rain began to fall in big splashing drops,
chilling me thoroughly in ten minutes.
I went back into operator’s room; he
still idled over the almanac, scarcely
looking up as I entered. Soon after
there was the distant rumbling of
wheels, the trample of horses and a
few bugle tones came down mournfully
in the wind. “There’s a coach,” said
the operator, “and Bill Woodfoid’s
horn. There must be something wrong;
this is not his run.” Lights gleamed at
the outer end of the platform. The
clusy old coach rumbled up, the driver,
in a gray overcoat and woolly cap, help
ed to get the mail bag in the boot,
shouting out, “This way, if you please,
gentlemen, and not an inch o’ time to
spare.”
“What’s up, Woodford,” said a deep
bass voice, “and where’s Sam to-night ?”
“He’s gone aud gave his ankle a bad
disli twist, that’s all. Come, look alive
there !” I buttoned up my coat, felt
that my pistol was all right; I had taken
it from the black bag just before the ar
rival of the coach. I clambered An,
took a forward seat, and as somebody
swang a lantern backward and forward,
discerned that, save a very old gentle
man, who seemed to be dozing in the
back, I was the only passenger.
The driver cracked his whip and with
a terrific jolting we started at a furious
rate of speed. We had, perhaps, ac
complished five or six miles in this way,
when the rickety old affair gave a sud
den lurch, before coining to a full stop,
and the driver appeared at the window
dripping with rain. “ We’il have to
tumble here for the night, I reckon,
gents ; for the storm last night has
blown a tree right square in the road,
and the leader has* got a rock in his foot
and can’t go on anyway.” Pleasant
prospect, truly. “There’s old Job
Silver’s cabin yonder ; we can put up
with him, I guess, until mornin.’ ” As
the driver had already begun to un
hitch, there was nothing to do but beg
hospitality of Mrs. Silvers, and the old
gentleman and myself scrambled out,
the former growling savagely when he
found the road ankle deep in a sticky
mire, and the raiu pouring in torrents.
“ I should like to throttle that villain,
and shoot that cursed leader on the
spot,” said that old gentleman, making
off towards the miserable shanty, to the
right some thirty yards.
After a supper of frizzled bacon, fried
eggs and excellent coffee, which was not
so bad a supper, eaten before a spank
ing fire of birch logs, the host, a tall,
grim old man, with the face of one of
Napoleon I.’s soldiers, albeit with a cer
tain look of simplicity impossible to a
soldier, conducted me up a rude pair of
stairs to a sleeping apartment. The
room sloped low iu the ceiling on two
sides, being just under the roof, and
was furnished with two narrow beds aud
two chairs. I took off my coat
and waistcoat, and flung myself
into bed, putting my pistol and
watch under my head. The grim
old man excused his poverty and
took away the candle, his cowhide shoes
creakiug on the stairs as he descended.
On second thought, I took my watch
from under the pillow and placed it be
tween the mattresses on the further
side of tho bed, next the wall, and soon
fell asleep, lulled by the droning voices
underneath, and rain that fell on the
shingled roof, a sound I used to love in
my boohood. I awakeued by the creak
ing of the board floor under a stockinged
foot. The room undoubtedly owned
another occupant than myself, whether
legitimately so remained to be discov
ered.
What money I had with me I carried
iu the right pocket of my trousers, the
safest place by all means. I also car
ried a large, clumsy jack-knife, such as
sailors cut tobacco with. 1 don’t know
why I should have remembered the
kuife, but I did. The walking had
ceased, but I fancied I heard a stifled
breathing in the room: this might have
been only fancy. However, I gently
drew myself to the side next the wall,
between which and the bed there was
just room enough for a human body,
aud slipped to the floor. I think I
smiled at this impulse, but at that
moment the creeping recommenced, fol
lowed by a smothered oath, and I knew
that someone was softly approaching
the bed. I had ceased to smile. I did
not admire the idea of a struggle in the
dark, aud unfortunately my topers were
in my waistcoat, which I had thrown on
a chair when retiring. Nevertheless, I
had no notion of being a qniesceut party
to a murder, and I began to work my
way to the foot of the bed, which I had
succeeded in doing very quietly. I
thonght of the kuife again, and opening
it stuck it in my waistband, a thing I
would not do again under the same cir
cumstances. If 1 had only removed the
pistol. As the novelist would say, all
this occurred in much less time than it
would take to write it, or to read it
either, and only a very few moments had
elapsed since my first waking. My next
move was rattier I had noticed
a light print spread on the bed, a gaudy
piece of calico like onr attic window cur
tains at home. I snatched this from
the bed and sprang to the side whence
the noise proceeded.
A man leaned over the bed; he turned
with a growl of rage, but being lithe as
a cat T enveloped his head with the
calico, my hands at his throat in an in
stant. Then began a dreadful struggle
as we rolled on the floor together. My
assailant dragged me nearer the bed,
and it flashed upon me in an instant !
that the recovery of the knife was in his
mind. I felt now with my left hand for
mine; it was gone. It had slipped ont
daring the scuffle, and I was thankful
that I had not been thrown on its sharp
point.
The bnrly ruffian had torn the muffler 1
from his head, and was altogether fixing
me in short order. The dominant idea
in both of us now was to seize the knife j
by the bed. My chance was not worth
the flip of a penny, yet if anything
would be calculated to lend a man super
natural strength, it was conditions like
these, and I astonished myself. With a
superhuman effort, I got on top, and
planted my right knee on his breast,
and again seizing his throat with des
peration, soon had the satisfaction of
feeling his dutch relax, until he was
powerless as a child, Mv own strength
began to fail now, and * cold, sickly
sweat broke out of my body at every
pore.
My would-be murderer lay very still,
scarcely a tremor betraying that there
was life in him. There was s hurried
trampling of feet below, and a pale light
glimmered on the ceiling as the grim
old matt and two or three other* as-
Nrendcd the stair*, bringing candle*.
We had aroused the household, although
neither of u* bad onod out. As lam
not a fighting character, and my cour
age nothing to boaat of I think I may
safely acknowledge that I showed the
white feather when It was all over, and
dropped over from exhaustion and ex
citement. My man with the black beard,
who had followed me three days with an
intent to take my life, believing me to
be another person (this I afterwards
learned) was held in charge until day
light by the coach driver and Job Sil
vers, and at last astonished these
worthies very much by knocking them
both down and making his escape.
I have his knife yet; a keen Italian
stilletto, a perfect beauty in temper and
carving, and keen as a razor. There
are many pleasing adventures in the life
oi a commercial traveler, or drummer,
as they are called, but there are also
drawbacks.
CHARLEY ROSS.
[From the Baltimore American .]
The trial of William Westervelt,
charged with assisting in the abduction
of Charley Boss, now in progress before
the Court of Quarter Sessions for the
city of Philadelphia, brings again into
prominence one of the most sorrowful
incidents of modern times. Thousands
of little boys are turned out upon the
steeets by their parents to snatch a liv
ing as best as they can, aud each of
them endures sufferings and privations
probably quite as severe as are visited
upon this child by bis criminal captors,
if he be still above the sod, but their
condition scarcely excites an emotion of
pity among the great throng who jostle
them out of the way if they happen to
be too persistent in their appeals for
alms. But there was something in the
manner of this child’s abduction, some
thing in the grief of the stricken house
hold, that touched a sympathetic chord
in all the homes of the land. The crime
of child stealing is by no means com
mon in this country, but it enters into
the plot of the most popular opera of
the day, and also constitutes the ground
work of a number of favorite plays, and
it is 'perhaps the near resemblanee
which this tragedy in real life bears to
the tearful incidents of the drama that
gives it such lasting remembrance. The
efforts made to find the missing child
gave a wide publicity to the story of his
abduction, aud the illustrated news
papers made his curly head alike fami
liar in the homes of the city and the
country. He may still be hid away in
some obscure haunt of vice, or he may
be resting in the peace of the grave, but
whether living or dead, he is probably
the best known child in the whole world.
The engraver’s art has given an im
mortality to the chubby face which will
be preserved in the story books of fu
ture ages.
Notwithstanding the balo of romance
that has been thrown around the fate of
this little boy he was carried off from
the meanest and basest of motives.
There was neither jealousy, nor revenge,
nor any other of the great passions to
be gratified ; the desire to extort money
from his parents for his ransom was. the
only object his captors had in view.
They were ordinary, vulgar criminals,
who would just as soon have stolen a
pet terrier dog if they could have hoped
for as large a reward for its return. For
six months they kept making overtures,
under various disguises, for the ransom
of the child, and the poor, distracted
father did all he could to raise the sum
demanded ($20,000), which was far be
yond his means. Then their criminal
career was cut short on a Winter night
by a couple of sturdy countrymen, who
found them rifling an unoccupied house
on their premises. On the evening of
the 14th of December, 1874, Wm.
Mosher and Joseph Douglass (the men
who enticed Charley Ross into a wagon
and drove away with him) were shot
while in the act of committing a bur
glary in the house of Judge Van Brunt,
of Bay Ridge, in the vicinity of New
York. Mosher died instantly, but
Douglass survived a few minutes, and
with his last breath confessed that he
aud Mosher had stolen the child, but
he said that he did not know where he
was at this time, unless he was at
Mosher’s house. As is well known, he
was not found at the place indicated,
and no clue could be obtained to his
whereabouts.
It seems that the police authorities
suspected these two men from the first,
and detectives had been hunting them
through all the haunts in which the
“dangerous classes” of New York are
known to dwell, but without success. A
gentleman of Philadelphia chartered a
tug-boat, and accompanied by detec
tives, cruised along the shores of Long
Island Sound, and search was made on
all the islands in which burglars are in
the habit of concealing their booty. The
police authorities went about the matter
with their usual air of mystery, and
kept everything from the public which
they could possibly conceal. We think
that this was a great mistrake. _ If the
whole community had been allowed to
participate in the search the child aud
his abductors might have been found.
More criminals are caught through the
publicity given to the evidence that
points to their guilt by the newspapers
than by the stealtlfy arts of the detec
tive, who sometimes is a very stupid
person. With the death of the two bur
glars at Bay Ridge all clue to the miss
ing boy was lost, and since then no over
tures have been made for his return.
Westervelt is a brother to Mrs. Mosher,
widow of the deceased burglar, and
some time before the Bay Ridge tragedy
he had some communication with the
Superintendent of the New York Police,
ostensibly for the purpose of negotiat
ing for the return of Charley Ross to his
parents, but really, as is believed, for
the purpose of finding out if the police
were on tha right track, and to notify
the criminals to get out of the way if
the prospect seemed daDgerous. He af
terwards came to Philadelphia, and was
there arrested, and is now on trial for
being accessory to the abduction.
One of the most curious features of
this mysterious case is the correspond
ence which was kept up between the ab
ductors and Mr. Ross, which was cut
short by the death of the burglars. The
little boy was carried off on the 7th of
July, 1874; on the 9th of that month
Mr.’ Ross received an anonymous letter
through the post office, promising his
return on receiving $20,000, and dictat
ing a “personal” which Mr. Ross was to
publish in the Philadelphia Ledger if
he was willing to negotiate. The “per
sonal” was published, and brought an
answer from Mosher dictating the terms.
The correspondence was kept up until
July 23, Mr. Boss answering the anony
mous communications through the col
umns of the Ledger. The terms dic
tated by Mosher were that Mr. Ross
should put the $20,000 in his pocket and
hand it to the first man who should ask
him for it. No street or locality was
designated for the paying of the money.
In five hours after the package was de
livered the boy was to be sent home.
On the day named (July 23) Mr. Ross
put a “personal” in the L edga‘ in these
words: “I will agree to the terms in
every particular." He put the $20,000
in his pocket and walked about the
streets expecting every moment to be
approached by someone who should de
mand the package. There is something
inexpressibly touching in the spectacle
of this anxious father carrying a purse
of $20,000, which he was ready to de
liver to any one that would approach
him and ask him for the sum named.
Who that has wept over Mr. Peggotty’s
search for little Emily can refrain from
tears at the sight of Christian Ross wan
dering about the streets, with all his
worldly fortune in his pocket,
hunting for the unknown man who
should consent to receive the same and
promise to bring back his boy ?
But Mr. Boss did not meet his man.
Mosher took fright at some demonstra
tion made by the detectives and changed
his tactics, 'in a few days Mr. Boss re
ceived an anpnymons letter telling him
that the proposed plan of receiving the
money had been abandoned, and that
be should put the money in a white
leather satchel, and on the afternoon of
a certain day should take a train for
New York, ride on the rear platform
and hold the satchel in his hand. If
any person along the route should dis
play a white flag in daylight or a white
lantern at night, he was to drop the
satchel, and in a stated Uma Charley
was to be sent home. If no signal was
displayed between Philadelphia and
New York, then he was to proceed to
AlbaDv in the same way and to look out
for the same signal. On the morning of
the 80tb of Jnlv Mr. Ross informed Mo
sher throngh the Ledger that he was
ready, and on the aftetnpon of the same
day he set out on the trip, going clear
through to Albany, but seeing no signal.
It happened that the story about little
Charley having been seen in PottsviUe
was started on that very day snd the
newspapers stated that Mr. Ross had
gone there to identify him. Mosher
saw this and supposed that Mr. Bobs
had not kept his promise; hence he
notified his confederate not to give the
signal. It may be remarked that Mr.
Boss kept the police authorities advised
of his movements. On the same train
that bore him to New York and Albany
were two sharpshooters with rifles ready
to bring down the man that displayed
| the signal the instant that they got
1 their eyee on him. Mr. Ross did not
1 know that these men were on the train,
i Negotiations were opened again, and
j the correspondence was kept np for some
I months. He made one or two trips to
New York to pay over the money accord-
I ing to directions given in the anony
[ moos letters, and advised Mosher of his
presence in the city in a “personal” in
the Herald, but something always in
terfered to prevent the scoundrels from
carrying ont their part of the agree
ment. The vigilance of the detectives
made them excessively cautious. In the
mean time Mr. Ross’ health gave way
under the strain upon his nervous sys
tem, and for some weeks he was unable
to reply to the letters sent him by
Moeher, and before the correspondence
culminated in the restoration of the lost
child the abductors were sent to their
final reward. Vengeance could not suf
fer them to live. Since their death Mr.
Ross has received no anonymous letters
proposing to return his son, and the
myßtery remains unsolved. If the
wretch now on trial knows anything
about the boy’s fate, he has thus far re
fused to tell.
THE LOUISVILLE BANK BOBBERY.
Confession of Rehm, the Teller.
I Courier-Journal.]
After a little farther talk, Rehm final
ly agreed to confess, without makiug
any conditions to his confession. He
said he took the money between 10 and
11 o’clock Wednesday night in the
satchel which he put iu the buggy. Why
he did it he could not tel 4. This he said
to Mr. Duncan. Afterward he acknow
ledged that he had been speculating aDd
lost money.
He said he hid the money under the
floor of the gymnasium back of his
house. A carriage was called, and Gal
lagher and Rehm went up to the house.
Detective Gallagher and President Dun
can crawled about thirty feet under the
floor, and found the money 4>uried in
about two feet depth of saw dust, wrap
ped up in a sheet. After admitting that
he took the money he wanted to put off
hunting for it until night, but Mr. Dun
can refused, and he finally consented.
He Baid further to Mr. Dnncan in con
versation that he wanted to make np for
his losses and again put himself on a
good footing. No man, woman or child
knew anything about it but himself.—
The money was counted and found to
be about the amount left in the vault the
previous night. It amounted to nearly
SIOO,OOO in money and bonds.
Mr. Duncan said to our reporter that
Rehm had charge of the combination
lock, and that their clerk had charge of
the keys of the vault. On Wednesday
afternoon, about 4 o’clock, Rehm com
plained that he was ill and said he would
put off some work until night and go
and take a bath. He asked the clerk
having the jteys of the vault to leave
them in the bank so that he could do his
work that night. No suspicion was of
course entertained, and the keys were
left for him.
His Wife’s Statement.
A Courier-Journal reporter also called
on Rehm’s wife yesterday afternoon,
but was unable to see her. A sister of
Rehm, however, gave the reporter the
statement of Mrs. Rehm as she had
heard it. She went to bed about half
past nine o’clock and Mr. Rehm came
home about half-past eleven o’clock.
The two slept with their only child in
the rear room of the second Btory of the
building. Rehm and his wife conversed
together for a while in bed, when she
remarked: “I smell chloroform.” He
replied that he had a cold and couldn’t
smell anything. She was sleeping on
the right side of the bed, and, pulling
up the musquito bar, put out her head,
but could not discover any chloroform.
Rebm thought she must be mistaken.
Both dropped off to sleep. About a
quarter to four o’clock she was aroused
from her slumbers by the crying of her
child, and found her husband gone. She
thought that he had gone down stairs
for water, and the child crying for water,
she said: “Wait till papa comes up.”
She finally got out of bed, and going
down stairs found the gas in the dining
room in full blaze, the door leading into
the kitchen open (it had been locked),
the gate leading from the kitchen to the
yard open, and a gate from the yard into
the stable also opened. Mrs. Rebm
found a handkerchief on the stairway.
She was alarmed and did not know what
to think of it until her husband was
brought home. Yesterday she felt
drowsy all day, she thought from the
effects of chloroform.
Rehm’s Habits.
Louis Relim has been a most exem
plary young man in his habits. He
has been a member of tho church;
never drank much. It is said that of
late he has been speculating in tobacco
and cotton. About six weeks ago he got
his brother-in-law, John Letterle, to in
dorse his paper for $3,000, telliug him
that he was speculating in tobacco.
Mr. Letterle warned him to keep his
fingers out of tobacco speculation.
Rehm’s,salary has been $1,200 per an
num. His position in the bank was
both teller and bookkeeper. Rehm’s fami
ly are highly respected Germans, his
father, Louis' Rehm, Sr., being a man of
some wealth and never dissipated in any
form. His passion was boat racing and
gymnastic exercises. He was a power
ful, athletic man, and built the gymna
sium back of his house at his own ex
pense. About six months ago he pur
chased a largo interest in the New Alba
ny City Railway Company, and became
its President. Personally he is exceed
ingly clever and polite, and all who
know him will feel a pang, of regret for
him.
The theory about the cuts he received
is that they were inflicted by himself at
his home. He may have arisen about
half-past two or three o’clock in the
morning, gone down into his dining
room, and, after turning on the gas in
full blaze, taken a dull knife and in
flicted the slight cuts. This is proba
ble, as the statement of his wife is that
she found the gas lit in the dining room
when she awoke, about a quarter befoie
four o’clock. From his house it is like
ly he walked down Main street and then
to the station house, without going to
the bank. A want of sleep, combined
with nervousness and fright at his own
rashness, may have given him an ex
hausted appearance when he fell down in
the station and hurriedly scrawled the
fact of the robbery on the slate.
The Mystery of His Crime,
jjt. seems that, though his responsi
bility as a teller and book-keeper was
great enough to require bondsmen and a
bond, Rehm’s salary was but $1,200 a
year. This in some sort explains the
mystery of his crime, and should be a
warning against the insufficient remu
neration of subordinates, who are ex-
Dected to be honest under temptation.
When one reflects that twelve hundred
dollars is a sum paid to the most ordi
nary of unskilled employes and totally
inadequate to the style of living affected
by Rehm, it can hardly be wondered at
that his better nature gave way and that
he fell. If great banking institutions
would be safe they should engage the
services of men who, if not more up
right, would be at least secured against
the folly of Rehm, who thought over
lightly of the place he held, as well he
might. Clerks of his class should not
be trusted with responsibility or ex
posed to temptation.
JESSE POMEROY.
An Interview with the Boston Boy
Murderer’s Molher.
Jesse Pomeroy’s mother has been in
terviewed by a reporter of the Boston
Times, who describes her as living in
plainly furnished rooms, and earns her
bread by plying a busy needle from
early mom to late night. In personal
appearance she is a small woman, with
a delicate and refined cast of counte
nance and a nervous, diffident deport
ment. The lines of her face are sharp
and angular, and her light gray eyes are
buried deeply under overhanging brows,
and look full of sorrow. She was at
tired entirely in black, and taken alto
gether, would seem to be the very model
of an Amerinan working woman, strug
gling to live by honest and independent
industry. Being asked if she desired to
make any more extended statements
direct to the people of Boston, she re
plied, “I should if I thought it woud
do my poor boy any good, but I am
afraid it wouldn’t. Ever since I gave
the Times the writing which Jesse did
in jail, they have refused to let me see
him, and I suppose I shall never see
him again alive. If I say anything now
I don’t know what they may do to him.
I afraid to speak, and that is the
honest truth.” She finally consented,
however, to write a statement, in which
she said that Jesse was fifteen on the
29th of November last, so that at the
time he committed the first crimes at
Chelsea, if he id commit them, he was
not more than twelve years of age.
When the policeman came to the bouse
and told her what he was arrested for
she was thunderstruck. Jesse had al
ways been a kind, affectionate boy, good
to'he; and to his brother. Jesse was
brought up and the charges read over to
him He looked bewildered, and did
not seem to her to be listening to the
charges. She did not believe then that
he was guilty pf those deeds, and she
does not now. It was all like a dream.
There was no use of talking abont it
now, she said, bat her belief was that
if SSOO had not been paid for his con
viction, he never ypuld have gone to the
Reform School at all.
After he went home from the Reform
School, and till he was arrested for kill
ing little Millen, Mrs. Pomeroy noticed
nothing strange abont him; he was
always good and kind. As to the story
of pre-natal influences, she said; “To
my biowledge Jesse has no birth-mark
whatever. His father never was a
butcher, and therefore I could not have
watched him kill beasts. At the time
Jesse was born his father was working
at the navy yard. The only thing he
ever had to do with meat in his life was
carrying beef from wagons on his shoul
ders into Fanenil Hall Market.” She
didn’t believe he ever killed au animal
in his life. During the period of her
pregnancy with Jesse, she was, she
thought, more secluded than two-thirds
of the women of Boston. There were
times when she did not go out of the
house for two months. The whole story
abont the pre-natal influences on Jesse
was a malicious slander.
Mrs. Pomeroy complains that she was
not allowed to see her son for ten weeks,
and believes that in that time his mind
was worked npon till he was ready to
confess anything. She was not allowed
to speak to him save in the presence of
an officer, nor to carry him books. She
concludes: “I feel that I ought to be
allowed to see Jesse, being his mother,
when Sheriff Clark makes an exhibition
of him to people who have no interest
in the boy, except curiosity. I say this
on good grounds. When the De Molay
Commandery of Knights came to Bos
ton from Richmond, Sheriff Clark gave
them a banquet at his house at the
Suffolk Street Jail, and when the festivi
ties were going on Jesse was brought
out of his cell at 10 o’clock at night and
taken around the room as a curiosity
for the Richmond Knights to stare at.
They made remarks on him just as they
liked, and then he was let go back to
his cell. I suppose it is the law of the
State, but it seems hard to bear. On
another occasion one of Bamum’s agents,
I am told, was let in to see Jesse, and
asked him how he would like to go
around with a circus and show himself
to the public. I suppose it is all right
and in accordance with law, but it does
seem strange."
HOMICIDAL INSANITY.
TWO REMARKABLE ENGLISH
CASES.
Murphy and Blampied—Legal Defini
tion of Insanity—Homicidal Tenden
cies Apart from Delusion—English
Opinions on the Subject—Differences
Between Lawyers aud Doctors.
Two cases of homicide have recently
been tried, the one at the last sittings of
the Central Criminal Court, before Mr.
Baron Amphlett, and tho other at Maid
stone Assizes, before Mr. Justice Brett,
which illustrated in a very remarkable
manner the difficulties that beset the
legal definition ot insanity. In each
case the facts lay within an exceedingly
narrow compass. Michael Murphy, who
came before Mr. Baron Amphlett, was a
scaffolder, and was walking to his work
early in the morning, along a crowded
thoroughfare, with his lathing hammer
in his hand. In front of him was walk
ing a lad called Jukes, who was on his
way to school. Murphy was quite sober,
and he had never before, seen Jukes iu
his life. As, however, he came up with
the boy from behind he dealt him a fear
ful blow on the back of the head with
the lathing hammer. People ran up at
once, one or two of whom had actually
witnessed the occurrence, and Murphy
observed to them, quite composedly,
that he had killed the boy and supposed
he would have to swing for it. There
was no medical evidence as to his insani
ty; indeed, the man’s poverty was such
that he had absolutely made no prepara
tion for his defense, and it was only at
the last moment that counsel were kindly
appointedforhim by the Sheriff. A couple
of fellow-workmen, however, were called,
who deposed that Murphy had of late
been very strange in his manner. This
did not go for much, and after a strong
charge from Mr. Baron Amphlett, dwel
ling upon the old tests of “delusion”
and “consciousness of right and wrong,”
Murphy was convicted and sentenced to
death. The Home Office, however, or
dered inquiry to be made into his an
tecedents and his present condition.
The result was to show not only that he
came of a family in which insanity is
hereditary—his father having died in a
mad-house—but also that he himself is
beyond all question or doubt hopelessly
insane. This being so, the sentence
which was passed upon him has been
respited, and he will be instead “con
fined during her Majesty’s pleasure.”
How the jury arrived at their verdict we
cannot profess to understand. Probably
they did just what they were told by
the Judge; but it might have been
thought that, even for an Old Bailey
juror, a moment’s reflection would have
been enough to show that the man who,
without the slightest motive or even
suspicion of a motive, in broad daylight,
iu a crowded street, in the presence of
several witnesses, and with escape im
possible, kills a boy whom he has never
seen or even spoken to before, cannot be
by any chance of sound mind, however
clear it may be that he knew what he
was doing, and knew that it was wrong.
The case of Blampied was in almost all
its essential points similar to that of
Murphy. Blampied was a shipwright,
who was working in Chatham Dock yard
in the mast-house on the same mast
with a man called Catt, with whom he
was on perfectly friendly terms. They
were standing within a few feet of
one another, when the prisoner sud
denly, and without any known
provocation, struck Catt violently with
an adze on the back of his head, cleav
ing his skull and inflicting fatal in
juries. The sound of the blow attracted
the notice of other men who were near
at hand, and, when they came running
np the prisoner declared that Catt had
inflicted the wounds npon himself. He
told the same story to the Sergeant of
police, and when taxed with the murder
protested his own innocence. A few
minutes before the commission of the
crime he had been to his foreman for
instructions, and both then and after
ward he was collected in his manner and
coherent in his talk. It appeared, how
ever, that there was insanity in his
family, his father having died in an
asylum, and one of his sisters being at
present under restraint. He himself
was confined in an asylum for four years
from the December of 1868 to the De
cember of 1871, and during the whole
of that time he was suffering from mel
ancholy, with homicidal delusions. In
the early part of 1874 he suffered severe
ly from swimming in the head, and in
October he had a distinct relapse into
his old melancholy. All this was proved
by competent medical evidence, and the
surgeon of Chatham Jail, who had
watched the man carefully for more than
three months, expressed himself de
cidedly of opinion that he was insane.
Mr. Justice Brett, however, has a very
strong dislike to the admission of un
controllable impulse as an excuse for
crime, aud he cross-examined the medi
cal witnesses with great severity, ex
pressing his opinion that impulses were
only uncontrolled when people did not
choose to control them, aud insisting
that if a man knows what he is doing,
and knows that the law will punish him
for it, he is sane in the eye of the law,
whatever medical men may say to the
contrary, and it is the duty of the j ury
to find him guilty. Fortunately for
Blampied, the jury took a different view
of their functions, and very much to
Mr. Justice Brett’s surprise, returned a
verdict of “not guilty” on the ground of
insanity.
As we have said, these two cases show
conclusively how unsatisfactory the le
gal definition of insanity is. That both
Blampied and Murphy are insane there
can be no reasonable manner of doubt,
and it is yet quite certain that neither
of them comes within the legal tests up
on which Mr. Baron Amphlett and Mr.
Justice Brett exclusively relieef. The
latter learned Judge went into the ques
tion at great length, expressing himself
to the effect that doctors were an opin
ionated set of people, ignorant of the
beauties of the law, who would make
everybody out insane if they Were al
lowed to do so, and inviting the jury to
consider those models of jurisprudence,
the opinions of the Judges in the Mc-
Naughten case, which he read to them at
length out of Archbold’s familiar hand
book on Criminal Pleading. He pointed
ont, quite correctly, that Blampied know i
what he was doing, and also knew per
fectly well that it was wrong. But the
jury were probably aware that in a
large asylum ypu will find only three or
four per cent, of the patients, at the
outside, who do not know that it is
wrong to commit a murder, and that j
even in the worst and most dangerous i
cases of homicidal mania the moral j
sense, although obscured, is seldom en- j
tirely extinguished. Their common,
sense told them that Blampied was i
quite insane enough to be locked up,
and they consequently felt a very natu
ral aversion to declare him sane enough
to be hanged. Dr. Pritchard assures
us that his experience has convinced
him that homicidal mania may and
often does exist without any delusion of
the understanding, and with the fullest
consciousness of the dreadful nature of
the act to 1m committed, and modern
records of insanity abound in cases
where theie is an uncontrollable im
pulse to crime, and yet no delusion con
ceals from the patient the character and
consequences of the deed which he
meditates. “How many lives,” says
Dr. Thompson, “have been sacrificed
to the jndicial test of it
would be too painful to inquire. But
must not be sacrificed to the de
sire of possessing a simple and de
cisive test where nature ha3 not
supplied one.” This, no doubt, is
the answer to the lawyer who asks ns
what definition of insanity we pro
pose to substitute for the legal defini
tion to which we sobiect No such de
finition can be framed, nor, we may add,
is one necessary to secure the due ad
ministration of justice. In place of
the precise rule which has sent so many
unhappy maniy-g to the scaffold by tell
ing the jury that their duty is limited to
asking themselves, “ did the prisoner
know he was killing a human being,
and did he know that it is wrong to do
so ?” all that is really needed is to leave
it to them to decide, upon their own re
sponsibility, whether the prisoner is in
sane enough to be locked up or sane
enough to be hanged. Had the issue
been put before them in this shape, the
jury, which saw no course but to de
clare Murphy guilty, would no doubt
have acquitted him on the ground of
insanity, and we should have been
spared the scandal of having an un
doubtedly insane man formally con
demned as sane by a court of law. Law
yers profess themselves alarmed at the
danger of allowing nncontrallable im
pulses to be pleaded as an excuse for
crime, but to a perfectly sane man medi
tating a murder in cold blood, the pros
pect of imprisonment for life in a crimi
nal lunatic asylum mast be quite as de
terrent as death itself. The real danger
lies in the existence of that terrible form
of mania in which the patient is sud
denly seized with murderous impulses,
and which we do not stamp out by re
fusing to accord it a legal recognition.
It is now quite clear that Blampied
ought never to have been discharged as
cured, and that Murphy ought to have
been put under restraint long ago ; and
it is difficult to agree with Mr. Justice
Brett, and with the Times, that we gain
any security by letting such men know
that their especial form of insanity is
one which the law will not allow them
to plead. A man who will without any
provocation kill another in broad
daylight, and in the presence of
witnesses, is not likely to be deterred by
the prospect of the gallows. The Times
solemnly assures ns that “the legal view
of responsibility is that which should
be upheld even in the interests of the
insane themselves. There are thous
ands of lunatics in our asylums, many
of whom will, sooner or later, be suf
fered to return to the world. If they
know that they return subject to the
law, the knowledge will be an aid to
self-restraint which will allow them to
be released as soon as they are restored
to health; whereas, if th,ey are to enjoy
a real or fancied immunity from the
consequence of their actions, they may
become as dangerous as wild beasts.”
The only answer to this somewhat pon
derous and very far-fetched argument is,
that*Blampied’s own .defense was that
he had not committed the murder at all;
while Murphy, so far from relying on
his insanity, offered no defense what
ever, and quite expected to be hung.
Lawyers no doubt are jealous of doc
trines which go to invalidate the pre
cedents they have been taught to regard
as sacred, but men of science have a
better right to protest against a defini
tion of insanity which is no longer tena
ble, and to hold that true views as to the
nature of moral responsibility are not
necessarily to be rejected because it
pleases Mr. Jastice Brett to consider
them “alarming,” and the rimes to back
him up in his opinion.— Examiner.
THE BLUE AND THE GRAY.
At the soldiers’reunion the Ist inst.,
at Caldwell, Ohio, Senator Cockerell,
United States Senator from Missouri,
was present as a guest of the camp, and
spoke in substance as follows:
Ladies, Soldiers, My fellow-Citizens:
It gives me great pleasure to appear
before you to-day. Soldiers, probably
I have met many of you before to-day,
and under far different auspices. I was
invited to come here, if I was willing to
meet you half way, and I am here. I
always tried to meet you half way on the
battle field, and I am willing to go
farther than that now. I allow no man
to go farther than myself in my love for
my country and a wish for her prosperi
ty. What I say to-day are the real sen
timents of my heart. lam glad that I
am here, for I feel it will be good for
all of us to be here. Humanity is the
same in all ages of the world, and we
cannot divest ourselves of our humanity
even if we would. We cannot always
control ourselves when laboring under
great passion, and I don’t want you to
hold me responsible for all I have said
and done under circumstances incident
to a civil war. But lam willing to ask
your forgiveness for any real wrong I
have done. I like to talk to soldiers,
for we have met on the march, in battle
and in prison. You well remember,
those of you who were before Vicksburg,
what jolly times we pickets had under
the improvised flags of truce. How
they dispassionately discussed the situa
tion. Now I believe if it could have
been so arranged, our private soldiers of
both armies could have settled our late
troubles amicably six months after the
war closed. But that’s over now, and
we won’t cry over spilt milk. We have
had a few men in the South of a class I
suppose you in the North have, who
were like what the brave Mulligan said
of his troops, invincible in peace and
invisible in war. Now I hope you will
not hold the good people of the South
responsible for the idle babblings of
these doughty warriors. I hope to meet
you to-morrow.
The speaker was heartily applauded.
“KINO GRANT."
[jV. Y. Tribune.]
The facts of the extraordinary Sau
dersville insurrection are coming to
light, and grotesque and horrible as the
whole affair is, it is impossible any long
er to doubt the reality of some kind of
plot. We do not believe that, if the
signal for a rising had been givan, more
than a handful of crazy negroes would
have been ready for deeds of violence,
the passion of these ignorant people for
secret meetings, oaths, pass-words, and
military pomp satisfying itself easily in
the parade of conspiracy, without its
bloodshed and danger. But in such
outbreaks the mischief is not to be meas
ured by the intentions of the leaders or
the disposition of their dupes. Uufor
seen disorders are apt to arise from
trivial and even ridiculous causes, and
there is always the peril that in an ex
citable community the suppression of a
so-called servile insurrection may lead
to more lamentable excesses than were
ever to be apprehended from the insur
rection itself. Hence the vaporings and
proclamations of the Jake Moormans
and Corday Harrises have a certain im
portance which ought not to be under
rated.
The North refused to believe in this
plot principally for the reason that,
however it might be in other States, the
negroes in Georgia were generally pros
perous and contented. But they seem
to have had a grievance after all which
neither we nor their white neighbors
ever suspected. They believe they are
kept out of their rights because they
have never received the “forty acres and
a mule” which every freed man was
taught ten years ago to expect as his
share of the confiscated estates of rebels;
and the recent talk of a “third term”
seems to have put it into their heads
that the time had come to take what be
longed to them. “We were all to vote
for Gen. Grant next year,” said Jake
Moorman to our correspondent, “to
make him king.” When Grant became
king, all the land would be his, and the
colored people would get it on easy
terms. As for resistance from the whites,
that contingency seems actually to have
been overlooked. When Grant is king,
said these queer children of a larger
growth, the land will not belong to the
white people any more, of course they
must give it up. Mr. Jake Moorman
rather thought he would kill a recalci
trant white man if he was “ordered” to;
but it is plain that be had never given
given this branch of the subject much
consideration.
After all it is no great wonder that the
Southern negroes hove got their heads
stuffed full of such wild and mischiev
ous notions. Carpet-bag politicians
have been teaching them for ten years
that the whites amoig whom they live
are their natural enemies and oppress
ors, and that nothing stands between
them and slavery hut the power of the
Federal Government. They have been
threatened with all sorts of evils if they
allowed the Republican party in the
South to be overthrown, and promised
all sorts of blessings if they supported
the Administration 1 candidates. And
they have had abundant signs of the au
thority of the great ruler in Washing
ton. They have seen his cavalry scour
ing the country at eleotiou time, and his
officers arresting white politicians at
pleasure for no other crime than oppos
ing the Administration. In their eyes
he has been an autocrat of almost un
limited power, and the carpet-bagger
has assured them that all this power
wonld be exerted for their benefit; it
was all for the object typified in the
story of “forty acres and a mule.” It
is not so strange that they should im
agine he is going to be king next year,
and that then “all the land will belong
to him.” Really the average Southern
Republican politician of the Moses,
Spencer and Hays type has reason to
congratulate himself upon the success
of his experiment in the political educa
tion of the negro ; and the South, we
trust, is sensible how much it ought to
feel obliged to him.—JV T . Y. Tribune.
Kidnapping is Charleston. The
Charleston News and Courier , of yes
terday, says: A short time ago it was
mentioned that a seaman by the name of
Leitch was taken to a vessel in the har
bor and an attempt made by a man
named J. W. Sweeney, with the assist
ance of a policeman, to compel him to
ship. Assistance, however, was rendered
and the plan was frustrated. Leitch
made complaint, and Sweeney and the
policeman were arrested. Yesterday
they were carried before Justice Hutch
inson, and bound over to appear at the
next term of the Court of General Ses
sions to answer to a charge of kidnap
ping.
ATTEMPTED RAPE.
Excitement in ConyeTg—Arrest of a
Traveling A gent.
[Special Dispatch to the Chronicle and Sentinel.]
Conyebs, Ga. , September 7, 1875.
One James T. Heard, a drummer for
Hunt, Rankin & Lamar, attempted to
rape the two little daughters of Mr.
Chamberlain last night, at the White
head House ih this place. Heard en
ticed or induced the girls, aged respect
ively nine and eleven, to enter his room,
and then attempted to commit the hor
rible crime. The girls escaped and made
complaint. Heard denied the charge,
but an examination left no doubt of the
truth of the girls’ story. Mr. George
Chamberlain then attacked Heard and
beat him severely. The wretch was ar
rested and confined in jail, where he now
awaits a preliminary trial. The citizens
were much excited, and at one tiipe
Heard’s life was in danger. The pre
liminary trial is set for to-morrow on
arrival of Judge Hook, of Augusta, to
defend him. J. P. T.
[A rumor of the above effect reached
ns yesterday, but as we received a re
quest not to publish it we had deter
mined not to give it publicity. A special
dispatch from the spot having been sent
to us, however, we do not feel at liberty
to withhold it, especially as it will ap
pear in the Atlanta papers of to-day. We
trust that the charges against the ac
cused will not be sustained by the evi
dence.]
THE CONYERS AFFAIR.
Unfouuded Rumors.
The city was full of rumors yesterday
in regard to the Conyers affair. It was
said, early in the morning, that a dis
patch had been received announcing
that J. T. Heard had been lynched the
previous night, but this proved not to be
true. Later in the day a telegram was
received stating that Heard had been
released on a bond of two thousand dol
lars in each case, and would leave for
Atlanta. The Atlanta Constitution's
special in regard to the affair says :
The facts are substantially as follows:
J. T. Heard, a drummer, traveling for
your popular house of Hunt, Rankin &
Lamar, stopped at the hotel last even
ing, and by some means enticed or in
duced two little daughters of Mrs.
Chamberlain, the proprietress of the
house, to enter his room, where he en
gaged them in play. The little girls
were aged respectively nine and eleven.
After leaving Heard’s room they com
plained that he had attempted to out
rage them, and Heard was requested by
one of the boarders to leave the hotel.
This he refused to do, asserting his in
nocence in positive terms. It was de
termined to ascertain the truth, and
further examination developed the fact
that the wretch had undoubtedly at
tempted to rape one of the children.
Thereupon, being very naturally en
raged, their brother, Mr. George
Camberlain, at .once proceeded to
Heard’s room and gave him as severe a
beating as it was possible to do with his
fists. The man offered no resistance, but
begged for mercy. Outsiders came in
ami separated the two, and Heard was
lodged in jail, where he is now awaiting
a preliminary trial under a warrant
charging him rape. Last night when
the news became generally known there
was great excitement on the streets, and
a word or two of encouragement would
have led to the lynching of the prisoner.
Heard has a family, and is said to be a
man of some means, with influential
friends.
Mrs. M. G. Davenport was elected
one of the delegates to the Mahaska
county (la.) Republican Convention
last week, but the Convention, by a vote
of 36 to 17, refused to admit her.
Engines for Gnning Cotton.
AVanted —Locations for Portable Engines
for Oinning Cotton. Call on address
MURRAY & MULLEN,
sepo-d&wl* Augusta, Ga.
PUBLIC REPORT
—OF A
POLICEMAN.
I have not enjoyed good health for several
years past, yet have not allowed it to interfere
with my labor. Every one belonging to the
laboring class knows the inconvenience of
being obliged to labor when the body, from
debility, almost refuses to perform its daily
task. I never was a believer in dosing with
medicines; but having heard the VEGETINE
spoken of so highly, was determined to try it,
and shall never regret that determination. As
a tonic (which every one needs at some time)
it surpasses anything I ever heard of. It in
vigorates the whole system; it is a great clean
ser and purifier of the blood. There are many
of my acquaintances who have taken it, and all
unite m praise of its satisfactory effect.
Especially among the aged class of people,
it imparts to them the one thing most needful
in old age—nights of calm, sweet repose,
thereby strengthening tho mind as well as the
body. One aged lady, who has been suffering
through life from scrofula, and has become
blind from its effects, having tried many reme
dies with no favorable result, was induced by
friends to try the VEGETINE. After taking a
few bottles, sho obtained suoh great relief that
she expressed a wish for her sight, that she
might be able to look upon the man who had
sent her such a blessing.
Yours respectfully, O. P. H. HODGE,
Police Officer, Station 6.
Poston. Mass., May 9, 1871.
Heax-tlelt Prayer.
St. I’aul, August 22, 1864.
11. 11. Stevens, Esq.:
Dear Sib—l should be wanting in gratitude
if I failed to acknowledge what the VEGE
TINE has done for me. 1 was attacked about
eleven months since with Bronchitis, which
settled into Consumption. I had night sweats
and fever chills; was distressed for breath, and
frequently spit blood; was all emaciated, very
weak, and so low that my friends thought my
case hopeless.
I was advised to make a trial of the VEGE
TINE, which, under the providence of God.
has cured me. That He may bless the use of
your medicine to others, as he has to me, and
that His divine grace may attend you, is the
heartfelt prayer of your admiring, humble ser
vant, BENJAMIN PETTINGILL.
P. B.—Mine is but one among the many
cures your medicine has effected in this place.
B. P.
MAKE iTPUBLIC.
Sooth Boston, February 9, 1871.
11. It. Stevens. Esq.:
Deab Sib—l have heard from very many
sources of the great success pf VEGETINE in
cases of Scrofula, Rheumatism, Kidney Com
plaint, Cattarrh, and other diseases of kindred
nature. I make no hesitation in saying that I
know VEGETINE to be the most reliable reme
dy for Catarrh and General Debility.
My wife has been troubled with Catarrh for
many years, and at times very badly. She has
thoroughly tried every supposed remedy that
we could hear of, and with all this she has for
several years gradually been growing worse,
and the discharge from the head was excessive
and very offensive.
She was in this condition when she com
menced to take VEGETINE; I could see that
she was improving on the second bottle. She
continued taking the VEGETINE until she had
used from twelve to fifteen bottles. I am now
happy in informing you and the publie (if you
choose to make it public) that she is entirely
cured, and VEGETINE accomplished the cure
after nothing else would. Hence I feel justi
fied in saying that VEGETINE is the most re
liable remedy, and would advise all suffering
humanity to try it, for I believe it to be a good,
honest, vegetable medicine, and I shall not
hesitate to recommend it.
I am, Ao., respectfully,
L. C. CARDELL,
Store 451 Broadway.
VEGETINE acts directly upon the causes of
these complaints. It invigorates and strength
ens the whole system, acts upon the secretive
organs, allays inflammation, cleanses and
cures ulceration, cures constipation, and regu
ates the bowels.
Has Entirely Cared Me.
Boston, October, 1870.
Mr, Stevens :
Deab Sib—My daughter, after having a se
vere attack of whooping Cough, was left in a
feeble state of health. Being advised by a
friend, she tried the VEGETINE. and after
using a few bottles was fully restored to
health.
I have been a great sufferer from Rheuma
tism. I have taken several bottles of the
VEGETINE for this complaint, and am happy
to say it hae entirely cured me. I have recom
mended the VEGETINE to others, with the
same good results. It is a great cleanser and
purifier of the blood: it is pleasant to take;
and I can cheerfully recommend it.
JAMES MORSE, 364 Athens Street.
SOLO BY DLL DRUGGISTS UNO DEALERS EVERY-
WHERE. Jyg?-4w
Notice to Debtors and Creditors.
ALL persons having claims against Chas.
G. Goodbich will send them in by the
first day of OCTOBER, duly attested, and all
persons indebted wifi come forward by thb 21st
of SEPTEMBER, or their accounts will be
placed in the hands of an attorney or sold at
public outcry. JAMES J. BROOM,
GEO. W. SUMMERS,
anl7-tnttiaaAwtd Assignees.
*
Closing’ Out Sale
BY THE ASSIGNEES OF
C. G. GOODRICH.
A LARGE STOCK OF GOODS to be sold
below cost, consisting of Harness, Saddles,
Bridles, Saddle Cloths, Horse Blankets,Collars,
Trunks, Valises, Satchels, Leather, Shoe Find
ings, Horae Brushes, Bits, Spurs, Halters,
Buckles, Rings, Copper Rivets, Harness, Leath
er and Rubber Belting, Plantation Wagons, one
Herring Safe, one Desk, Show Cases, Counters,
Shelving, Ac., Ac. All goods remaining on
hand on September 21st will be sold at public
outcry. JAMES J. BROOM,
G. W. SUMMERS,
aul7-tuthsaAwtd Assignees.
PI ew Artvertlsoments
NEW GOODI
Ten oases of first class Kentucky jeans, at from 12$ to 75 cents
per yard. .
TEN CASES OF NEW AND CHOICE PRINTS, at from 6* to 10 cents.
ALL THE FAVORITE BRANDS OF SHIRTING, NEW YORK MILLS,
LONSDALE, KING PHILIP AND FRUIT OF THE LOOM, CAMBRICS.
800 DOZEN OF THE CHEAPEST LINEN TOWELS EVER SOLD BY US.
LADIES AND MISSES’ HOSIERY.
GENTS AND BOYS’ HALF HOSE.
A NUMBER ONE HEAVY UNDERSHIRT FOR 50 cents.
XX SUPER STOUT HALF HOSE AT $2 50.
CHRISTOPHER *GRAY & CO
sepß-tf
Important to tlie Boot, Sloe and Hat Trade.
TTTE ARE NOW PREPARED TO SUPPLY OUR FRIENDS AND THE
W TRADE GENERALLY WITH
Boots, Shoes, Hats and Trunks
AT
GREATLY REDUCED PRICES.
OUR WHOLESALE DEPARTMENT
IS COMPLETE, AND WE WILL SELL TO THE TRADE AT
New York Jobbers Prices.
_OUR RETAIL DEPARTMENT
IS WELL SUPPLIED WITH MILES & SONS’ BOOTS, SHOES AND GAITERS; ZEIGLER
BROS. LADIES’ BUTTONED AND LACE BOOTS, SHOES AND GAITERS ; DUNBARR & CO.’S
CHILDREN’S BUTTONED AND LACE BOOTS; SOLLEItS & CO.’S CHILDREN’S BUTTON
ED AND LACE BOOTS, AND FULL LINES OF OTHER DESIRABLE GOODS.
SMALL PROFITS AND LARGE SALES IS OUR MOTTO.
NO TROUBLE TO SHOW GOODS.
AN EXAMINATION OF OUR GOODS AND PRICES INVITED.
GALLAIIER & MULHERIH,
seps—sutntli&wlmo 289 BROAD STREET.
PLANTERS LOAN AND SAYINGS BANK,
333 Broad Street,
CASH CAPITAL, SIOO,OOO, WITH STOCKHOLDERS LIABILITY.
TRANSACTS a GENERAL BANKING, EXCHANGE and COLLECTION BUSINESS. Five per
cent, allowed on Daily Balances, subject to CHECK AT SIGHT.
Interest allowed on Time Deposits, as may be agreed upon.
T. P. BRANCH, President. J. T. NEWBERY, Cashier.
N. B.—SIGHT DRAFTS on GREAT BRITAIN and CONTINENTAL EUROPE in sums of £1
and npward. mh3o—tf
MANY PARTIES
Within the past six months have professed to see the BOT
TOM in prices. Yon cannot really tell that the final bottom is
or has been risible. In many goods it is now to be seen at
JAMES A. GRAY’S, 194 and 196 Broad street, or it never will
be. On Monday morning, July 19th, we will offer Merchandise
at prices below any living man’s experience.
Twenty thousand yards good styles Calicoes at 7 cents per
yard.
Splendid yard wids Bleached Cottons at 11 and 12 cents
per yard.
At the same time, the entire Stock of Summer Goods at
corresponding low prices. Consumers attention is solicited to
the prices of the following specialties in full assortments: Lace
Stripe White Dress Gooi's, Iron Bareges and Colored Dress
Goods, Ladies’ and Gentlemen’s Gauze Undervests, Gents’ Supe
rior English 1-2 Hose, Gents’ Suspenders, Marseilles Quilts, Da
mask and Hnckaback Towels, Doylies and Napkins. Immense
bargains in Corsets, all qualities. Pillow Case Cottons and Wide
Sheetings. ' To wholesale buyers for cash special inducements
offered in seasonable goods in order to reduce a large Stock.
JAMBS A. GRAY.
jy!B—tf
Augusta Savings Institution,
No. 249 Broad Street, Augusta, Ga.,
(NATIONAL EXCHANGE BANK BUILDING.)
:x:
s Incorporated February ICS, 1875.
COMMENCED UUBIINEBB MAY Ist, 1875.
Deposits Received to July 31st, just Three Months from day of Open
ing, Over $60,000, and Over SIOO,OOO Declined Because not
Offered According to our Terms of Deposit.
THIS INSTITUTION is founded upon the best and only safe principles for savings and accu
mulations. The management is in the hands of eleven of our best citizens, worth, in the
aggregate, over ONE MILLION DOLLARS (41,000,600); and while all the property is liable for
the deposits, they are prohibited by the charter from borrowing cr using a dollar of the funds
of the Institution. . .
Deposits received in sums of one dollar and upwards. Interest paid on deposits remaining
under six months, and all profits divided amongst permanent denositors, instead of paying them
out to stockholders, as is done in all other Institutions in this State.
Mechanics, Laborers, Charitablo Institutions, Executors, Administrators, Women and Chil
dren will find it to their interest to deposit their money hero, where it will not only bo safo and
secure against fire and thieves, but will also be accumulating.
Foreigners and others, wishing to send money abroad, can obtain Sight Drafts here on Eng
land, Ireland and Scotland, in Bums of Tl and upwards ; on France, Switzerland, Belgium. Italy
and the Orient in sums of 10 francs and upwards; on all the cities of Germany, Holland, Russia
and Poland, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Hungary, Portugal and Spain, in small or large sums,
in the currencies of the various countries.
SAVE YOUR EARNINGS AND BE INDEPENDENT !
ALFRED BAKER, President. J. S. BEAM, Jr., Treasurer.
au7-d&w3
THE IMPRO VED
Win ship Cotton Gin ! !
Is ACKNOWLEDGED TO BE THE BEST BY ALL WHO USE IT, or have
seen it in operation. It is now the LEADING COTTON GIN in the South.
VERY LARGE REDUCTION IN PRICES—ONLY $3 50 PER SAW, DE
LIVERED.
THE WINSHIP COTTON PRESS,
The Best and Cheapest WROUGHT IRON COTTON SCREW in the market,
made to work by Hand, Horse, Steam or Water Power, Prices
reduced to suit the times, and now Very Low.
SIOO EACH AND UPWARDS, according to style of Press wanted.
EVERY GIN AND PRESS WARRANTED.
For further information and terms, apply to
C. H. PHINIZV & CO., Agents,
jyl w2m AUGUSTA, GEORGIA,
M. A. STOVALL,
Warehouse & Commission Merchant,
No. 1 Warren Block, Augusta, Ga.
THANKFUL for the liberal patronage here
tofore bestowed, would take this occasion
to notify the Planters of Georgia and Carolina
that he continues the Commission Basiness in
all its branches (except buying and selling fu
tures), and solicits consignments of Cotton for
sale or storage. He will give the selling of
cotton his personal attention. He is, as here
tofore, Agent for the justly celebrated Patapsco
Guano and Grange Mixture.
augls-w3m M. A. STOVALL.
A. F. PENDLETON,
SUCCESSOR TO
Quinn IPendleton,
224 Broad Street, Augusta, Ga.,
BOOK SELLER AND STATIONER.
Newspapers, periodicals, music,
Ac., a Specialty.
Subscriptions taken for Newspapers and Pe
riodicals at Publishers’ Prices.
Having the NEWEST and BEST selected
stock of SCHOOL BOOKS, MISCELLANEOUS
and STANDARD BOOKS, BLANK BOOKS and
STATIONERY, will sell as low, if not lower,
than any house in the city. Be sure you give
me a call before buying elsewhere.
seps-suweAfritf
| THE WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY,
S' CHOOL OF MEDICINE—BALTIMORE,
MARYLAND. The next Annual Course
of Lectures will begin OCTOBER Ist. 1875,
and end February 24th, 1876. The Hospital
and General and Special Dispensaries, attached
to the College, furnish ample material for
daily Clinical Lectures. Every facility for
Dissection. For Catalogue and particulars,
address J. E. LINDSAY, M. D„
jy3o-eodAwlm Dean of the Faculty.
THE JAsf LEFFEL
Double Turbine Water Wheel,
H POOLE & HUNT.
JjjL Haiti more, Bid.
H 7,000 NO WIN VS El
If I- bimplc, Strong, Durable,
j always reliable and tsatla-
Manufacturers, also, oi
Portable & Stationary
Steam Boilers,
& Grist Mills, Min.
Machinery, Gearing
tor Cotton Mills, Flour,
Presses,&c. Shifting, Pulleys and Hangers
a specialty. .Machine made Gearing; accu
rate and of very beat finish. Bend for Circulars
The Singer Sewing Machine Again
Triumphant.
THE WORLD'S AWARD AGAIN received by
the World’s Favorite. Number of sales
for 1874, 241,679, or 148,852 machines more
than was sold by any other company during
that yefkr. See the sworn statements of
each company at the office of the Singer Man
ufacturing Company,l4l Broad street, Augusta,
Ga. Agents wanted. WM. H. SAUd,
jell- Agent.