' " '_U•c,l‘ t‘ Shi galiatittr fin itUi gtnar YlligalfiLEED EVERY WE DAY BY H. G. SMITH it CO. H. G. SMITH TERMS—Two Dollars per annum, payable all eases in advance. OFF.WE-80IITHWEST CORNER OF CENTF.E SQUARE. • • Ala-AG letters on business should be ad dressed to H. G. Blum & Co. piotiknemo. THE DESERTER. An Episode of the Hungarian Revolts [Translated for "Every Saturday " from " Das BnchfurA!le." 1 In the year 1849 I was major in the regiment of dragoons of which I am at present the colonel. In consequence, however, of our severe loss in officers during the first months of the Hunga rian campaign, I had even then already received the command of the regiment. Our opponents, the insurgents, knew our weak side. They were aware that the Austrian army could berecruited at any moment with common soldiers, but that the surest means to cripple us was to deprive us of officers. This policy, therefore, they pursued to the utmost of their ability, and so it came to pass that, though then still a young man, I was the oldest officer in my regiment, which was regarded as one of the bravest in the whole army. It had suffered severely even thus early in the war, so that its original number was much reduced; hut all the men were true as steel, and eager to avenge the death of their comrades. The time of which I am about to speak was the end of the month of March, and immedi ately after a sharp engagement on the right bank of the Theiss, in which we had suffered a decided defeat. Prince Windischgratz, the Austrian general in command, retreated with as much haste as was possible to the river, while the Hungarians under Gor• gey pursued us with equal celerity and vigor. Although much weakened, our troops had not lost courage, and the re treat was conducted in tolerably good order. My regiment had the advance, and escorted a company of pioneers, to gether with the wagons which bore the pontoons by means of which we were to pass the river. Behind us we could hear the thuhder of cannon, a sign of the stout resistance with which our comrades opposed the Hungarian pur suit. We had already reached the bank of the stream and were making the necessary preparations to throw a bridge to the opposite shore, when an ordnance officer, with despatches from the Prince, came up at full gallop, and asked for me. He brought orders for the cavalry to puss the stream at once, as the Gen eral had received information that in an adjacent village, by the name of B—, and which was separated from the left bank of the Theiss only by a small piece of woods, was stationed a strong corps of the enemy, which would be able on the following day to harass very con siderably the crossing of the army, and perhaps even delay it until Gorgey came up, in which case we would find ourselves between two fires, and might be entirely annihilated. If we could succeed, on the other hand; In putting the river between us and our pursuers, we would be sale, us the latter did not have the means of crossing such a rapll stream. My task was therefore to reconnoitre the village of S—, and in any event to take possession of it be. fore the arrival of the Prince. In accordance with these Instructions, I left the pioneers behind to continue the construction of the bridge, collected my men, and made them swim the river, as we had no time to seek a ford. In doing this some men were lost, being carried away by the strength of the tor rent, but the remainder reached in safety the farther shore. In the mean while night had fallen. I sent out Bev oral scouts in order to reconnoiter the town without any delay, stationed out posts in the wood, uud made all my preparations to begin the attack just as soon as according to the report of our scouts it should be advisable. Although I could rely implicitly upon the majority of my men, there were still among them some Hungarians upon whose fidelity I could not absolutely depend. I had indeed no especial ground for doubt, for they had all behaved most bravely in the recent action, and had given no signs of disaffection. Still, I thought best to be on my guard, and had there fore several days before given orders that none of those whom I mistrusted should go on picket duty. This order had hitherto been strictly followed, and I had therefore every reason to suppose that the pickets posted in the woods be tween us and 5 were trusty men. Toward nine o'clock the scouts sent out returned, bringing with them some peasants upon whom they had come walla engaged in collecting wood. Two daring Bohemians, who were familiar with the language of the country, had changed clothes with their prisoners, and made their way thus disguised into the town. They brought news that the town was held by perhaps a thousand peasants, armed with scythes and flails, and that, although they had no suspicion of our proximity, still an attack on our part was not advisable at this moment, as too many of the inhabitants and of the garrison were wandering about in the environs of the village. I called my officers together and held a council of war, in which it was determined to begin the assault at midnight. In the meantime the troops were to have two hours for rest and refreshment. The fires were soon going, and the camp kettles hanging over the flames, a part of the men busying themselves with the cooking, while others tethered the horses and supplied them with fodder. It might perhaps have been half past eleven o'clock, and deep silence reigned in our camp. Their supper ended, most of the men were sleeping about the fires, for the poor fellows had made forced march of some eight or ten miles, besides the crossing of the river. I had lighted my pipe, and thrown myself wrapped in my cloak before one of the fires, but the pipe had fallen from my lips and I had gradually fallen asleep, when suddenly loud yells from the woods, the well-known " Ellen" of the Hungarians, awoke us all, and brought us in a moment to our feet. Every ono made a rush for his horse, but before even a part of the men had 'gained the saddle, the enemy were upon us. From three different parts of the for est at quo poured forth dark masses, dimly visible by the faint light of the expiring watch-fires, and threw them selves with furious yells and shouts upon the nearest troopers, and the work of death began. Although surprised by an entirely unexpected attack, the be havior of our men was admirable. Those who did not succeed In gaining their saddles formed themselves into squares, and presented a bold front to their as sailants, while the officers collected to gether the mounted dragoons, charged with them~upon the foe, and Boon broke through and scattered their irregular ranks. The daring and fury of the badly armed peasants could not stand against the well-disciplined and better appointed dragoons. They were obliged to fall back in confusion into the woods, leaving more than half of their number dead or wounded upon the field of the conflict. As it would have been imprudent to press the pursuit further without any accurate knowledge of the force with which we had to contend, I ordered the recall to be sounded. ; The informa tion needed we obtained from a wound ed Hungarian, from whom we learned that our assailants had been the peas ants stationed at E 3—, who, informed of our proximity,—from what source he 'either could , not or would not say,—had hoped by a night attack to annihilate or drive us back into the Theiss. As there was no longer any reason for delaying the assault upon the town, and 'as there was ground for hope that we should gain an easier victory on account of the advantage already won, I gave the order for an immediate advance. During the march I discovered that we also had-'suffered considerable loss. More than eighty men had been put hors du corrthat, a loss which filled my troops with great exasperation. The suddenness of the. , attack—for the " Eljen." of the, Hungarians had first announced their approach—was inex plicable. None of the pickets posted in ;he forest had given the least alarm. ..A„~:., A. J. STMM!ULN VOLUME 68 How was this to. be explained unless treachery had been at work? The reasons for the silence of the two men stationed nearest to the river was ex plained when we reached their posts. Both men had been killed t probably. by peasants who had crept upon them through the undergrowth and cut them down before aware of their enemies' approach. But where was the third', whose post had been within gunshot of the town? His horse we found tied to a tree, his pistol yet loaded in the holsters, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Only one con clusion could be drawn from these cir cumstances,—that he had deserted, and that his treachery we had to thank for the sudden attack which had so nearly proved successful. Further inquiries revealed the sus• picious circumstance that the missing picket had been one of those very men upon whom I had ordered' especial watch to be kept. This was a Hungar ian named Michael Szelady, a brave sol dier, and, apart from his nationality, a man to whom no exception could be taken. He had served three years in the regiment, and had never given oc casion for the suspicion that he enter tained any bias toward the political ef forts of his countrymen. And yet his desertion could only be ascribed to this cause. Time -however ' permitted no further inquiries, for hardly had I as certained these facts before we had left the shelter of the woods and saw the town but a short distance before Half of our troop was ordered to pro ceed immediately to the attack, while the other half passed around the town in order to effect an entrance on the opposite side. The loss which the in surgents bad suffered on the banks of the Theiss had been so considerable that they , could now offer but a feeble resistance. A weak barricade of carts and wagons had been thrown up in the principal street, but this was easily carried by our men, who clambered over it like cats and cut down Its de fenders. The few who opposed us fought bravely, but their number was too small, and when the rest of our party began to attack them in the rear, they gave way entirely and took to flight. The dragoons were so exasper ated by the attack upon their camp that they now showed no mercy, and only with difficulty could I restrain them from applying the torch to the houses, which not even the most stringent or ders could preserve from plunder. After a short time given to pursuit, I caused the recall to be sounded at the market-place. The men came strag gling in, many of them bringing with them prisoners, who gave me to under stand that they could make important disclosures. While the muster roll was being called, lights were set in the win dows of the houses surrounding the market, and lanterns hung on high poles, In order that we might be secure from another surprise. While these r recautions were being taken, my at tention was called to a house which presented an entirely different appear cues from that of the others about it. Although large, high, and massively built, the doors were all closed, and the windows dark, so that at first I sup- posed it to be deserted. As no answer was made to our repeated knockings at the door, the attempt was made to break it in. Its solidity, how ever, defied our exertions, and I was upon the point of calling off my men in order to waste no more time on what might prove an object of no importance, when a subaltern came up andinformed me that the house belonged to a man named Szelady, who was now, accord ing to his informant, lying upon his death-bed. As the name Szelady was also that of the absconding picket, I caused the prisoner who had given this Information to be brought before me, and ascertained from him that the owner of this house had a son in the Austrian army,—in what regiment he could not say—which naturally led me to suppose that the deserter had taken refuge with his family. By the aid of a can of powder, the door was quickly burst open, and a strong detachment under command of an officer was sent into the house, to make a thorough search. They hadnot long to seek. In a rear apartment on the lower story was collected the whole family. Upon a bed lay the deceased Szelady, who, as It appeared, had just died, and around his corpse stood sev eral females, overwhelmed with grief, together with the deserter Michael. The entrance of the troopers awakened them from their stupefaction. The women threw themselves in •front of the deserter, and cried to him to fly. Michael ran to the window, threw It open and sprang out, before our men could disengage themselves from the women. He was, however, quickly pursued, captured, and brought back into the room. " Lead him out to the major!" order ed the officer. " His business will soon be settled. Ten paces and six bullets for the deserter!" " Q have mercy upon my unhappy son, kind sir," cried an aged woman, who cast herself with clasped hands at the officer's feet. " Spare my unhappy eon! He meant not to desert, but came at our entreaty to receive the last bless ing of a dying father. 0, spare him, for Heaven's sake, spare him !" The two other women, two handsome black-eyed maidens, of whom one was Michael's sister, the other his cousin and affianced, followed the example of his mother, and united their entreaties. Michael, however, uttered not a word. "A likely story, indeed!" retorted the officer. "But no matter ! Even were it true, it would not lie in my power to save the man. He has deserted, that is clear! Out of the way! Forward— march !" With these words the officer thrust aside Michael's betrothed who stood next to him, and with such violence that she fell, and struck her face so as to inflict a wound. The blood trickled down her countenance, and stained her white dress. This sight transported her lover with rage. Flinging aside his guards with an oath he sprang upon the officer, wrenched from him his sabre, and out 'him down before the others could prevent. He was, how ever, quickly disarmed, bound and dragged from the house, just as I, in consequence of the tumult and women's screams, was upon the point of send ing in more dragoons. When Szelady was brought out fol lowed by the wounded officer, who was carried by two of his men, I could hardly prevent the men from throwing themselves upon their former comrade and killing him upon the spot. Under the circumstances I should have been ustitled in ordering him ti:: be shot with out further ceremony, but I preferred to hear what he had to urge in his defence against the grave charges of desertion, and assaulting and wounding his super ior officer. The evidence against the prisoner was so strong that no doubt could exist as to his guilt. He had left his post in presence of the enemy, and if not by treachery, at any rate through his negli gence, had caused his regiment to suffer a severe loss. He had also made an attempt to escape after being discovered, and had dangerously wounded his superior officer. The unanimous ver dict of the court martial was " Guilty" as to all the charges, and the sentence could only be "Death." Before pronouncing sentence, as pre siding officer of the court, I called upon the prisoner to say everything which he had to offer in his defence. He had thus far listened to all the proceedings of the court as if completely stunned, and as if it were inexplicablo to him that he could be arraigned on such a fearful ac cusation, namely, that of having treach erously caused the death of his com rades. Upon my exhortation he col lected himself and began to speak in his defence. I still remember his words distinctly, for they were so well chosen for a man of his rank as to excite my surprise and admiration. lido not fear death," he said, "for ve often looked it in the face, but Si) e. knowing that those at whose side bkave lived and fought for years will curse me when I am no more hi fright ful, and for me the more so, because— so surely as I hope for salvation—l gun • ~ . ,• .. . - ' ' • ': - • ::'-':,,,,,'•-% ':':. i 7. - .1 - -: , ., :. : : -,:i.; : ..• ~..,-... i :..! : ..: ....:7....:,. , : -,..„!.... , ~,..„, :,.. i . , • :.:,. .• -.) ,:,!',:.,:.;::... : :.::- '' ": " - . , • _• . r. j • . . ..• . , . ... . . . . .., .:3 - 1 ' : ,- ' '1" ~,,.:.:,,: i ''-•- '' . ' ~ .. , • „ . ) : ,..i;" ;',:i •Ii• -- ; , . 7 . : ..,...i' ;'i.'il .''''' •-•.', • - i. .I. -..t. 1 1... . .-.. .•„ . . . • , -.,:, 1-, i,; : •• -:: ' -' . ,• ... ~ • . . , . . . . , ••... . , • .. • ~ , . . . • '. . . , , . . . • , . innocent of all the crimes with which I t am charged, with the exception of that of cutting down the 'officer. Of that lam guilty; but I ask you, sirs, what would any one of you have done had you seen your afibinced bride in sulted and struck, ita was mine ? This, however, is a minor matter." What galls me most is the accusation of hav ing left my post and betrayed my com rades. Of this charge I wish to speak. " When I reachecljny station, I dis mounted, tied my horse to a tree, and paced to and fro, to warm myself, keep ing at the same time an eye upon the town, where the lights in the windows began to go out one by one and every thing to become quiet. The thought occupied me that the capture of the village would be easier than we had be lieved, and never in the slightest degree did the possibility occur to me, that among the inhabitants there could be any one in whom I had any interest for since the beginning of the war I had heard nothing from my family, and could therefore have no idea that my parents had moved to this town. I had been walking up and down for perhaps an hour, when I suddenly heard a rust ling in the adjacent bushes. I stepped behind a tree, and looked narrowly to ward the spot. Next moment a female appeared, whose countenance I could not see, as it was concealed almost en tirely by a hood. She was hastening along the path toward the town when I called to her to stop or I would fire. As may readily be supposed, she was paralyzed with terror at sight of a soldier so near her, when she had supposed there were none within miles. She stood still until I came up to her. I was on the point of asking her what brought her into the woods so late at night, and tell ing her that she was my prisoner, when she gave a loud cry, called me by name, and fell upon my neck. Then first, Major, did I discover that it was my betrothed, Carlin Karobyi, to whom I had been engaged even before I entered the army. She told me how my father, a year before, had come with his family to s—, but was now lying dangerous ly ill,—how she had been sent by my mother to a place distant several miles, to fetch as a last hope a famous physi cian who dwelt there, but that on her arrival, she had learned that a few days before he had been murdered and his house plundered by the Croats of Job lachich, and how at last she was re turning to 5 when stopped by me. "You may imagine, gentlemen," con tinued the unfortunate man, "what frightful news this was for ma, and what were my feelings at the thought my father, sick unto death, my mother, sister, and bride were all in this place which we were about to attack, know ing as I did what they would have to expect from our troopers when heated by the conflict. My betrothed entreat ed me to come with her to see my father yet once before he died, and when I told her that this was impossible, she represented how I might quickly re turn to my post and that nothing would be discovered. At last I consented to go with her, as she promised that my ab sence need not be for more than half an hour. The lights were all extinguished and not a soul to be seen in the streets of the town, and wereached my father's house without being seen by any one. How it becaMe known in the town that our regiment was encamped in the woods and on the bank of the river, I do not know. Per haps my mother may be able to tell you. My father held my hand in his until he died. I could not leave him, and hardly had I closed his eyes, when I heard the shots outside, and knew that our troops had already enter ed the village. A few minutes atter, the officer with our men entered the room, and what happened then you know already." In order to test the truth of Szelady's story, more for the satisfaction of my own curiosity than for the sake of any advantage which could result there from to him, I summoned his mother, and sought to ascertain from her in what way our occupation of the woods had become known in the town. From her answers it seemed that a neighbor, who had been present on Michael's arrival, had given the intelli gence to the leaders of the troops sta tioned in the place. Michael's state ments with regard to the motive which induced his coming to S—were, as it appeared, essentially true, and he could be charged with no intentional treason ; but the fact that he had left his post was put beyond doubt by his own con fession, and the subsequent attack was in any event to be regarded as a conse quence of this offence. Moreover, the wounding of his superior officer, al though he had had provocation for this, was an unpardonable crime. I felt compassion for the young man, on ac count of the peculiar circumstances which had misled him into committing this offence, but duty left me no choice. Sentence of death was therefore pro nounced, but, as a particular favor, an hour was given him to take leave of his friends and prepare for his end. In order to prevent any attempt at flight, I caused him to be shut up in a stable, which joined upon the house of his father, and placed a sentry before the building. His mother, sister, and betrothed, who after the first shock had gained composure and bore the sentence of the young man with a calmness which at the time appeared to me un feeling, were admitted to see him one after the other; and, after they had taken leave of him, a priest who had been taken prisoner in the town was admitted to administer the last console- tions of religion, and to accompany him to the place of execution. The mother and sister did not remain long with him, but his betrothed much longer,— indeed, for so long a time that the priest was obliged at last to interrupt the In terview. Just as the hour had come to an end, the priest came to me with the request on the part of the prisoner, that his betrothed might be allowed to see him once more, but without wit nesses, as he wished to give her a last commission. In order to show the unhappy man every favor in my power to extend, I granted the re quest, and the priest thereupon accom panied the maiden to the door of the stable, and closed this after her entrance- As some time elapsed without the re appearance of the young woman, he entered himself, in order to out short the parting. He soon reappeared with an air of deep concern, and said to me, "Unhappy beings! The separation is, alas! too hard for them. Grant them a few minutes, Major. Meantime I will go and console the sorrowing mother." He departed. A quarter of an hour passed, but the maiden did not come out. Longer delay could not be granted, and a corporal therefore was ordered to take six men and fetch out the pris oner. Hardly had these entered the stable, when a loud tumult arose with in, and next moment the corporal rushed back, crying, "Treason, treason! Szelady has escaped, and the maiden also has disappeared!". " Escaped ?" I cried. "Impossible! 1 Surround the stable, and look for the priest!" We hurried into the stable, searched every corner, even the racks and man gers, but in vain. Neither the soldier nor the young woman was to be found. So, too, the mother, his sister, and the priest had vanished, and no doubt was left in my mind that a regular plan for his escape had been devised by the rela tives of the deserter, and carried out with the help of the riest. Although angry that I should' have been over reached in such a manner, I cannot say that I very much regretted being re lieyed from the painful duty of carrying into effect the sentence of the court, as I could not resist the conviction that Michael's story as he had related it was true. I could, not therefore pretend any very serious dissatisfac tion at his escape, but I would have gladly received some explanation of the manner in which it had been rendered possible, and the means by which it had been carried into effect. Time however, did not allow any at tempts to discover these, for we had received information that the advance of the army' of Prince Windischgratz had already passed the Theiss, and was approaching the town. I gave orders LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY W)RMNG-, JUNE 12 1867. therefore to evacuate 8--immediately, and our regiment again took its position in the extreme front of the retreating army. I may mention here that the passage of the river was accomplished only just in time, for a portion of our troops were still upon the bridge when Gorgey's forces reached the right bank 'of the stream, so that our pioneers were subjected to a heavy fire and severe losses, while engaged in destroying the bridge so as to prevent further pursuit on the part of the enemy. A few days later considerable reinforcements put us in condition to show front again to our antagonists. In the year 1855, after I had long for gotten Szelady's flight, I found myself again in the field with my regiment. On this occasion, however, our service was not so dangerous. The regiment formed a part of the army corps com manded by Count Boronini, and sent by Austria during the war in Crimea to occupy Moldavia and Wallachia. Dur ing this expedition I gained by chance an explanation of the mystery which had hitherto enveloped the conclusion of the episode which I have above re lated. One day I set out with my servant, a man from the regiment who had been with me for,tnany years, to go to a little inn on the frontier where the commander of the army corps had appointed an in terview with me. We soon lost the right road, as the neighborhood was entirely unknown to either of us, and after sev eral vain attempts to regain it, I sent off my man to a farm-house, visible at the other end of the little valley in which we found our4elves ' to make in quiries as to the lost road. He was gone for some time, but returned at last with a broad grin on his face. " I have found an old acquaintance of ours, Colonel, in the owner of the farm house yonder, as well as of most of the land hereabout." "An old acquaintance?" I replied ' What is his name?" "Michael Szelady, sir," answered the man. "flow? Szelady? The deserter at S--? Are you sure thfit you are not mistaken?" " Quite sure, Colonel," he replied.— "He bade me say to you that he would be glad if you would condescend to make him a visit. Here, however, he comes to speak for himself. He pointed toward the farm-house, out of the court of which a well-dressed man came riding toward us. My servant was right. It was indeed Szelady. The former dragoon greeted me respectfully, and invited me in most cordial terms to rest fora few hours at his house, prom ising to guide me afterwards to the frontier tavern. When we reached the house, a handsome, smiling matron,in whom I recognized Carlin, advanced to meet us. She carried a young child in her arms, while two somewhat older were clinging to their mother's skirts. Michael introduced me to his wife, and then led the way into the house. After partaking of an excellent dinner which had been prepared for us, I begged my host to tell mein what way he had succeeded in escaping with his be trothed from the stable at s—. I as sured him that he might trust me with out hesitation, as he was now under the protection of the Turkish government, and I did not intend to demand that he- , should be delivered up to us. " Of that I am sure, Colonel," answer ed Michael. " I have not served three years in the army without learning to know the difference between a true offi cer and gentleman, and a rascal who would betray a poor fellow for the sake of the informer's reward. Had I felt any doubt about that, I should not have made myself known to your man. But you ask in what manner I escaped with my bride? I can only answer, that in fact we had not escaped at all, but were in, or rather under the stable, the whole time you were seeking us. You are astonished? I will explain to you. In almost all the houses of Hungarian towns there is a secret room, large enough to secrete valuable property, and even persons in case of necessity. In my father's house at S—there was under the 'Roble such an apartment, which had been filled with firewood. A trap-door in the floor led to it, and this was so skilfully contrived, that you might have looked long for it in vain, even though aware of its existence. In the haste and confusion of your search a discovery was much less likely. My mother had spoken of this place, and when she came to see me in my prison, besought me to make use of it. The great difficulty lay in raising the trap door without being seen from the out. side, and in restoring it, after passing through the opening, to its proper po sition. In order to obviate this, the priest, an old friend of my father, de vised the plan of bringing Carlin to see me a second time, and then of entering himself, in order, ostensibly, to shorten our parting interview. Upon this secon d visit, he restored the trap-door to its former place, sprinkled earth and straw over it, and then hastened to depart from the town as speedily as possible with my mother and sister. " Carlin and I remained in our place of concealment until your regiment and army had evacuated the town, and their place was taken by the troops of Gorgey. Then for the first time we came forth again. We did not, however, consider ourselves .safe any longer in Hungary. My mother collected together all her property, and we came hither into Moldavia, where I bought this farm and married Carlin. Here we are living very happpily, and hope to remain for the rest of our lives." I repeated to Szelady the assurance that I would do nothing to disturb his happiness, and cautioned my attendant not to make known to his comrades the discovery which we had made here. My warning was apparently superfluous, as I gathered from his complacent de meanor that surer means had already been taken to assure his silence. Never theless he promised secrecy, and will probably keep his promise, as, accord ing to last accounts, he himself had likewise become a subject of the Sultau, married Szelady's sister, and settled himself on a farm adjoining that of his brother-in-law, the deserter. An Amusing Tunnel Incident. Doubtless the tunnel on the Eastern Railroad, just eastof the depot in Salem, has been the scene of numerous subtitl ing incidents but we doubt if anything of a more ludicrous character has ever taken place in it than the following: It earns that a fow days since, a lady and her sister, and a grown-up eon of the latter, took the oars at Boston for the East, the sisters occupying a seat togeth er and the young man the one behind, with another person. Upon entering the tunnel, the aunt, to have a little fun, rose up carefully, reached over to the seat the young man had been occupying, seized some one by the collar, shook, him soundly, and then resumed her seat. The sister, surprised at her vigorous movements, asked what she had been doing, and was informed by the other that she had been trying to frighten her nephew. Her feelings can be imagined when the motheiniade her acquainted with the fact that the young man left the train at Salem, and that she had been 'shaking up the wrong passenger.; When the train emerged from the tun nel, the persbn who had been mistaken for the son was observed adjusting his neck-tie and collar, and remarked that he did not know what the matter was with the ladies in front of him, but thought one of them must Le insane, for she had given him a severe shaking, torn off his neck-tie, scratching his face, and disarranged his hair, and he was at a loss to give any other account for the sudden attack that had been made upon him. The Ifyste,rious Prisoner. Capt. John G. tan, who was arrested and confined in 1 5 as the supposed John H. Surratt, is now on his' way to Washing ton to prosecute the government for false imprisonment. The circumstances con nected with his case were peculiarly trying and aggravating. He was arrested in Memphis in July, and taken in chains to Washington. Afteiwards, for some unac countable cause, be was removed to Vicks burg, and confined there until the following November, when be was relessed.—.Petera truerg lacpreso. The Ex-EXeDeror of Mexico. His P 115111143 Life and Character The following sketch of the private life and personal cbaracter of MaWiTnit lan, the would-be Emperor of Mexico, is from the pen of an Englishman who was for many years aresident in Mexico and claims to•have enjoyed the special confidence of Maximilian. As treclre port shows' ' the writer is an enthusiastic Admirer of the ex Emperor ' and many of his statements are, we believe, ex aggerations; but, as the account comes from a man who is fully familiar with his subject it will be read with interest. Maximilian is rather above the mid dle height, well proportioned, with powerful high square shoulders. In face he is decidedly good looking, hav ing regular features, light hair, long side whiskers and moustache of the same color, a small mouth and excellent teeth, with a good-tempered smile perpetually on his countenance. He has light blue eyes and a most benevolent and amiable express' Ai of countenance. In dress, he is always scrupulously neat, a black frockcoat, light-colored pantaloons, w bite vest, and a small black necktie usually constituted his morning costume; while in the evening. at dinner parties, receptions„ &c., he wore the usual evening attire of a private gentle man. He very seldom donned uniform, nor was it often worn at his receptions. When occasions of state rendered it necessary, he would appear in the plain dress of a General of the army. He was very fond of the Mexican costume, al ways adopting it when on horseback or in the country, also when traveling. This consisted of a handsome white sombrero, ornamented with silver, and a silver band round it or sometimes a plain white French wide-a-wake hat of very large circumference, a jacket and vest of black or a dark color, handsome ly embroidered, and black pants with double rows of silver buttons down the outside seam of each leg. Sometimes his riding dress was like the rancheros of the country, namely, jacket, vest and pants of buff-colored leather, usually deer skin, but handsomely embroidered and ornamented like the others. The daily habits of Maximilian were always very simple; rising early, a good deal of business, writing, &c., was gen erally got through with before break fast, which was partaken of punctually at 84, o'clock; dinner was held - at 27i o'clock, and there was no repast later. The table was plain, but abundant, the principal wines consumed being light Hungarian and German, though at din • ner parties, at several of which the writer has had the honor of being present, nu wine or other luxury pro curable for money was ever wanting.— After dinner the Emperor almost in variably drove out, generally in an open carriage drawn by his favorite team of seven cream-colored mules, which al ways went at a tremendous pace; through the streets especially the coach man had injunctions always to drive fast, in order to avoid the numerous sal utations of the people, for though nat urally very shy and retiring, Maxi milian was too much of a gentleman not to acknowledge the salutation of the most humble. On returning from his drive, a few moments were again devoted to business, and at 5 o'clock he invariably retired to his private apart ments, where many hours were often spent in study, writing, &c. Half of his time was spent at the coun try palace of Chapultapec, distant one league from the City of Mexico, from whence he usually drove in to business immediately after breakfast, arriving punctually at 10 o'clock, atit returning at SP. M. He also passed different periods at his Summer palace at Cuernavaca, situated in what is called the " tierra templada;" or temperate country, which is half-way between the high plateau and the low land near the coast, termed the "tierra caliente," or hot land, This palace, though small, is a perfect little gem, delightfully sit uated on the slopes of the mountain. Here Maximilian gave himself up en tirely to enjoyment, which in him was of a very simple character catching and preserving butterflies andinsects, shoot ing and bathing ; these last were his chief delights. The writer was once passing a small lake, and seeing some clothes lying on the bank, and ap proaching a little nearer, discovered His Majesty enjoying himself in the water to his heart's content, totally un attended, with no one, perhaps, within three miles of him, save the beholder. He seldom rode on horseback, being, as is usual with sailors, a bad horseman, be always preferred "shank's pony " to any • other ; and when traveling, though he always had two or three of his horses led behind the carriage, he seldom mounted any. His manners were perhaps what pro cured him so many friends in Mexico, for whatever may have been asserted of the unpopularity of his cause, there can be no doubt but that he was very much beloved by a large portion of the popu lation of all classes. Always politeand kind, no matter what the rank of the perscn he addressed, he had that charming gift of setting them at their ease immediately he began to converse with them. Should they be indifferent linguists (he usually talked in French), he was always patient and would help them out if necessary, never permitting them to be uncomfortable by noticing any little mistake. On the first occa sion that the writer had the honor of an interview, he kept him nearly half an hour discoursing on indifferent though interesting subjects ; discover ing that he was an Englishman, he discussed the late Prince Consort, who he said was his greattet friend, the Prince and Princess of Wales and her baby, describing how big and fat it was, how many teeth it had cut, &c., &c., and all the little minutia of the English Royal family that he thought would be pleasing to an Englishman. He also inquired if he had been at either of the Universities, what school he went to as a boy, &c., and showed by hiscon versation that he was nearly as well acquainted with England as With his own country. Ou public re ceptions, balls, dinner parties, &c., the Emperor and his cars sposa, Carlotta, would separately make a round of the guests stopping and speaking to each one individually, in sometimes half a dozen different languages, and always addressing some kind little remarks peculiarly interesting and pleasing to the person addressed, and though at one time this was a weekly occurrence, and the guests constantly changing, they all invariably came away charmed with the kindness and affability of the Emperor and Empress, each one fancying that their condescension was particularly extended toward themselves. The Em press Carlotta took very great pains to cultivate the Mexican litotes, rather a difficult task; having her own drawing rooms for ladlearqnly, she endeavored to bring all classes and factions together, to introduce rational and useful habits and amusements, and frequently tried to persuade them that if they de voted a little less time and money to dress and frivolous amusements, and a little more to works of charity and be nevolence, they would be much happier and much more respected. She set them an excellent example on this point, spending immense sums from her pri vate means on all kinds of charities, pub lic and private; nor was money the only thing lavished; the poor and sick were frequently visited by her, often accompanied by her royal husband, and scarcely a day passed without their jointly visiting some charitable or other Institution for the public good. In point of education and scientific ac quirements Maximilian has few equals and very few superiors. He is complete master of ten languages, including English ; he is also very deeply versed in astronomy and all sciences connected with navigation, on several of which he has written some very clever works. Asa mathematical scholar few can QOM' pete' with him, while in general educa tion and information, such ie history, geography and rise and progress of nations he is a perfect walking encyclo pedia. Natural history and geology, are among his favorite studies, and he spent much of his leisure time in the Museum, which he added to and improvedfgreatly during his stay in Mexico. lie was always perfectly happy to be left alone on the hills with nothing bnt his butter fly net and box of specimens, always, as he said, finding some new object of interest either among the living or past state of creation. As an artist he is tolerable, evincing a great love for pio tures, especially those of the old school. The National Gallery in Mexico which was an old neglected place, but in which were several good paintings, has been very much improved and added to by him. His great fault, and which has no doubt been the cause of many of his failures, is that he is essentially a theorist, totally without any practical system, and living half his time in a bygone, age, he is sadly deficient in the very necessary staple called common sense. In point of morality the least that can be said is that Maximilian is a good sin cere Christian, and a high-toned gentle man. Any action savoring of insincer ity or untruthfulness would have been looked upon by. him with indignant horror. He is as pure and innocent minded as a child, and could never be persuaded of deception and insincerity in others. He is strictly honest in all his dealings, both public and private, the rumors which were rife of his remit ting large sums of public money to Miramon being totally without founda tion ; on the contrary, he spent a large portion of his private means in im proving and beautifying his residences in Mexico, and many public institu tions. When recently hard pressed for money, and finding that there were several tradesmen, and others, with large outstanding bills against him, he • insisted on his horses, carriages, and even clothes, if necessary, being imme diately sold, until the last cent was paid. He never could be persuaded to permit severity to be practiced even towards his most bitter enemies, his interference to prevent the execution of notorious guer rillas being the first cause of his misun derstanding and subsequent open rup ture with Marshal Bazaine. He fre quently said that if he could not govern the Mexicans by love he would not do so at all. He is devotedly fond of his wife, and since the news reached him of her se vere illness he has never been the same man. It has always been a subject of regret with him that he had no child ren of his own, and his and the Em press's fondness for them induced them to adopt the young Prince Iturbide, son of the former ill-fated Emperor, in tending, if their reign in Mexico had been fortunate, that he should have been their successor. A canard was rife some few months since of an amour of his with a very beautiful Indian girl, and of the birth of a child, but no credit was ever attached to it. It is of course known that Maximil lian and his wife both profess the Roman Catholic faith, and both are very devout, and, to all appearance, sincere in it. It is true that on his accession he carried out the work already commenced by the Liberal party—the destruction of con vents, the curbing of the power of the Church, permitting universal toleration and freedom of worship, and general Church reform ' • but any one acquainted with the corrupt state in which he found both the Church and the priesthood can hardly wonder at his so doing. He and the Empress were most strict in all their religious observances. Mass was usually attended daily in the private chapel in the palace, but on some occasions they might both be seen on foot attending the service at the Cathedral, the Em peror proceeding bareheaded with a solemn procession from the palace to the church. Whenever he encountered the procession of the host in the streets—a rather frequent occurrence inoMexico— he invarianly, and his wife also, alight ed from their carriage and prostrated themselves on their knees until it had passed. Maximilian, as heir apparent to the throne of Austria before the birth of his ne ihew, was brought up in the school of an absolute monarchy, but his views have a very liberal tendency, he always considering that the people should be fully and thoroughly represented, and that the power of the sovereign against their will should not be absolute. He was always very much beloved by the Austrian people. When he assumed the government of Mexico he distinctly stated his wishes that the people should be represented by a Congress, firmly believing that it was by the popular will that he had been called to the throne, and, as has already been said, he declared his intention to govern them by love, or not at all. These praiseworthy designs were, however, overruled by Marshal Bazaine, and poor Maximilian found at every turn that he was nothing but a tool in this man's hands and those of his equally unscru pulous master, Louis Napoleon. Had he been left to himself he would never have aimed at a despotic government, but would to the best of hi power have endeavored to govern the country on his own pet plan. For the United States he has always expressed the most friend ly feelings; the writer has frequently heard him say that an amicable rela tion with that country was all he de sired to make his rule happy and his Government stable. .He was very partial to Americans, always showing marked courtesy to them ; the day before he left Mexico an American lady, wife of one of his cham berlains, had an interview with him touching some money due to her, and in a jesting manner told him that she had heard he was not fond of her coun trymen. He replied, assuring her that it was a gross libel on him, by whoever had told her so ; that there were no people on the earth for whom he had a greater respect and admiration, and, as an earnest of his sincerity, requested her to dictate her own terms, and that her claim should be immediately arranged and paid as she demanded. He tried always to encourage American emigra tion to the country, well knowing the strength it would have afforded him ; and but for Bazaine, who would not hear of it, he would have had a large legion of Americans in his own service. 31oral Courage—A Thrilling incident. General Sherman says the greatest do mend ever made on his moral courage was under the following circumstances: The i citizens of San Francisco were celebrating the Fourth of July in the large American Theatre which was peeled to its utmost capacity. General Sherman was chief-maul:tar, and occu pied a seat near the front of the stage. The orator had oompletod his oration, the poet began his song, when one of his aids, white with fear, made his way down the middle aisle to the footlight, and beckoning the General's ear, whis pered to him that the theatre had settled a foot and a half in one of its aide walls, under the weight of the crowd, and might be expected any moment to tum ble on their heads In ruins. The Gen eral commanded him to sit down where he was, without turning his panic smit ten face to the audience and to say not one word. He then quietly sent an aid out to report the condition of the wall : then gave his apparent attention to the poem expecting every moment, as he said, to see the pillars reeling end the roof falling in ; but nevertheless, certain, that any general and eudden movement and affright of the people would hasten the catastrophe and aggravate the ruin, while, by the ordinary slow method of dispersion, the danger ;might pos sibly be escaped. The exercises contin ued calmly to the close. The audience left the theatre quietly without suspect ing their peril, and terrible destruction was averted by , the presence of mind, the self-control of the brave soul who, contemplating at one glance all the pos. sibilities ofithe case, decided upon the policy of duty, and awaited without one betraying glance or treacherous change of complexion, the uncertain, tremen dous coneequences. Homes for Workingmen Some difficulty has existed among the Judges at the Paris Exposition relative to the right of the Emperor Napoleon to com plete right the prize for the beet model for a home fora workingman; but iE having been proved that, while a prisoner in the fortress of Ham, in the time of his predecessor on the French throne, Louis Phillipe, he had exercised his invention considerably on this subject, and that it was one of his en grossing hobbies t he was allowed to compete, and has been awarded cue of the prizes. agi)ll3 HIPI Rum:mitt= of Got'lab Williams, at Phil• adelphia. On Wednesday morning, September 19, 1866, Mrs. Eliza M. Miller, a lady of sixty three years, was found dead in the rear room of a two storied dwelling, at Ninth and Buttonwood streets. Her husband had left her to go to his work, when she was in frill health. She was slain at the moment when she was transacting her usual wifely duties of cleaning up the breakfast dishes, "redding up," as the term goes. She was an infirm woman, alone, defenceless in her humble home. An assassin came to rob her—hoping that some of the funds of which she was known to be the custodian, as the treasurer of a charitable association, might yet be about her. Her throat was cut in her humble kitchen, her head was abraided —bruised by a blunt weapon that lacerated the flesh, yet did not injure the skull. When found she lay just as if the first blow had deprived her of life. She lay near the foot of the stairway, and by p er was her hus band's own razor—the very weapon that had stolen her life—which had been taken from a bureau drawer. Who was the perpetrator was wrapped in mystery. People in the neighborhood were questioned, and it was ascertained that a lame man named Gottleib Williams had been seen. His steps were traced one by one, and yet, though his movements were being ascertained it remained for a citizen to arrest him—John J. "McNair, a shop-keeper at No. 816 North Thirteenth street, on the following Friday. This gen tleman observed him passing his store early in the morning, and suspecting him to be the murderer, apprehended him. Williams went to the Twelfth district station willing ly. A Coroner's investigation fixed the crime on Williams. A considerable time elapsed before Williams' trial, as his coun sel attempted to have him discharged under the two term rule. On March 12th a jury was empanelled, and the trial proceeded. It lasted five days. The prisoner was ably defended from the first to the last. At twenty minutes of 6 o'clock, on the evening of the 16th of March, the jury, having been absent a short time, re turned a verdict of guilty of "murder in the first degree." On the 30th of March the convict was brought before the court for sentence. His counsel having moved in arrest of judgment, the judge decided ad versely to the counsel for the defence, and proceeded to sentence thecrimlnal to death. At 12 o'clock on Saturday, May 4, the death-warrant was read to the condemned man by Sheriff Howell. The prisoner list ened attentively to the reading of the docu ment, and, among other things, said: "My only request is, that I may have plenty of tobacco." Williams said that he was pre pared to die; that he was not guilty of the murder. Ever since his conviction, during the whole time of his incarceration, Williams steadfastly asserted his innocence, referiog his conviction to the fact that he slew a boy, years and years ago, and has lent an atten tive ear to the advice of his chaplain, T. G. Allen. At precisely seventeen minutes after eleven yesterday morning he was hung in the jail-yard of the Moyamonsing prison. Up to his last moments he protested his in nocence, at the same time bewailing the one fault of his earlier years—the killing of the boy, gate Dolscher, and apparently thoroughly repentant of his past misdeeds. During the whole of his imprisonment ho has been constantly attended by the Rev. T. G. Allen, who, by paternal care, has brought a penitent to the gallows. Williams spent all night very comforta bly, sleeping from about the time his chaplain left him, twenty minutes after seven, until daylight this morning. He rose, oat his breakfast, and changed his clothes, wearing the suit ho wore at the gallows, a yellow vest, a white shirt, and a gray pair of pantaloons. His chaplain visited him shortly after breakfast, and soon after his arrival, the two brothers came and spent about two hours with him. The in terview is described as having been very affecting. When they came in be burst Into tears, and seemed to realize all the horrors of an enforced separation. During the conversation with his brothers he requested thorn to read the parable of the prodigal son. He said this portion of the Bible suited his condition best. Whilst It was being read he constantly wept. Tho parting between the brothers moved the bystanders to tears. At a few minutes before 10 Col. Keichline, ono of the Prison Inspectors, visited him and conversed with him a few moments. The Colonel questioned him its to his inno canoe. Ho still asserted it, saying he had been guilty of crime, but not the crime for which he was about to die. About 10 o'clock he was removed from the 3d to the first corridor as he was a crip ple. When assistance was offered him to make the descent he declined. saying ho was able, and taking the same stick he has carried ever since his arrest, he hobbled down the stairs. At 12 minutes past 10 Sheriff Howell visited him and stated his painful duty. Williams simply said, "I am ready—l am innocent." He expressed his satisfaction with the treatment he had received in the prison, especially at the handsof the prison physician. He bade farewell to. all, and being pinioned moved towards the gallows, in this procession: Arrived at the gallows, which stood on the same spot and was the same on which Probst was hung, Rev. Mr. Allen then de livered a touching prayer, during which the exclamations of Williams showed how de voutly he accompanied it. The reverend gentleman asked whether he was ready to go? He answered, "Yes, that he trusted in Jesus." Rev. Mr. Allen—What lb your hope? Williams—Jesus, Jesus I (fervently.) Rev. Mr. Allen—What is your founda tion your authority for that hope? Williams - answered that God had been pleased to give his only begotten Son to death because of his love for the world, and that we might have everlasting life. Williams at this time sat in a chair, an umbrella screening his head from the sun, with the familiar stick in his hand. At about fifteen minutes after 11 o'clock the prisoner took off his vest, and while the white cap was being pulled ejaculated "Good-bye, Mr. Worrell, good-bye! (By the way, the prisoner thanked Mr. Worrell for his able defence during the trial, before leaving his cell.) Good-bye, Mr. Allen. Good-bye all ! Jesus Christ, have mercy on me!' The last expression he repeated several Imes and was repeating when the drop 'ell, and the dull thud proclaimed that his ifs was ended. In falling the knot of the rope worked away from behind his left ear towards the back of his neck. It made no appreciable difference, however. A convulsive tremor and one or two drawings-up of the body, as if the strong lungs still strove to breathe through the closed or broken windpipe—and God Hob Williams was dead. But fow people were about the streets around the prison. Tho police arrange ments wore excellent. Why Davis Was Not Tried The Washington correspondent of the Now York World says : The ultimate release of Jeff. Davis has been an exciting topic of discussion among the Cabinet; and his present freedom will result in a few days in eliciting the fact that ho cannot bo tried on the charge of high treason. The Attorney-General is said to tako this view of thecae° ; and Judge Chase, he holds, is responsible for the result, as the Judge, during the war, decided that the rebate were belligerents, in order to Justify the disposal of the blockade-runners In prize court, and belligerents cannot be tried for treason. To reverse the decision would be to declare all the sales of prize vessels unlawful. It will be remembered that the South claimed such vessels should be the subject of adjudication in Admiralty Courts; but to overcome this objection, Judge Chase deolared they were belligerents. This is the true cause why Jeff Davis has not been tried. There are now in the warehouses at Co lumbia, S. C. over 6,000 bales of cotton, more than half of which belongs to planters. At an average of twenty cents per pound, this ootton is worth somewhere in the neigh borhood of 1800,000. How much weight would Horace Gree ley's editorials in favor of protection have with his readers if they all could pass the Tribune office and see for themselves the tone of foreign paper bought by the Tribune Association, and on which the Tribune is printed. Russell's Station, on the Smoky Hill route, has been attacked by Indians. Gen brals Custer and Smith, with 1300 cavalry, are at Fort Hay. A fight has occurred be tween parties of the Pawnee and Sioux, near the end of the Pacific Railroad, and three of the Sioux were killed. At Raleigh, N. C., yesterday, President Johnson, acoompanied by Gov. Worth and Gen. Sickles, attended the dedication of the monument to his father, Jacob Johnson, in the City Cemetery. The dedication address was delivered by Dr. Swain, President of the North Carolina University. The editor of the Alabama Argue shows hlmselfjolly under what other people might consider rather seriotui circumstances: We see that the Sheriff, during our absence, has advertised the Argus for ea le. We hope the bidders will have a merry time of it. If the Sheriff can sell it he will do more than we ever could. Like a damp percussion cap, we think it will fail to ' go oft"' =72=l ISMEI2S.OIP - ADVIAME*S6. • =maAlMUsemsaxerme. 1151.. Emet' tor Mies rikpaeyear tor aeon ad dlol4llll 11401.14 L - - BaLL KOTara, AWNOIAL PiOrrarroind xsar. .ILIMOMIngeL'T mate I line en the 11112, and 4' 0111111110 r eta imbsequentinser. . Lion. It AL Emma Ineerted in Local Colman, 15 mite per One. Omahas Nemo= Preoedlni_ marriages and deaths, 10 cents Pine ': ror tint hurt m, and 6 cents for every subsequent insertion,, Bosun= CUSID6, at ten Ones or less, on ----. - 10 Blaineey=ear hire lines or less, one Lseam aBrrrB7irgirritize:: . Executors'2oo Administrators'2.oo eea. 2.00 rug u tors' nottoes„.. . L6O Other uNoti eee three ttmee ,” ter lines, or - 1 ess, The Newmarket Murder. On the 25th of February last, Mrs. Mary Coriel,the young wife of a physician residing at Newmarket, New Jersey, was brutally Murdered in her bedroom. The family con sisted of the lady and her husband, their child, aged two years, a servant woman, named Bridget De and and a hired man, who was absent at the tbne of the murder. Dr. Coriell was also away on that fatal night, having been called to visit a patient at a distance. Soon after midnight tho doctor's cousin and some other neighbors were aroused by Dergan, with the infant in her arms and a large blood stain on her skirt. She announced that there were burglars at Dr. Coriell's house; that her mistress was probably killed; and that she "did not know Whether the house was on fire or not." When the neighbors reached the scene of the crime, the poor lady was discovered dead in her chamber, with twenty-six knife wounds on various parts of her body, one of them severing the jugular vein, and innumerable bruises and contusions. The bed was satu rated with blood; the pillows, bolsters, and blankets were cut, as if she had tried to shield herself with them : the feathers were ankle deep all over the floor, and the bed was on tire. The servant girl's story was that two men, named Doyle and Hunt, came to the house early in the even ing and asked for the doctor. They came again late at night, and at her mistress's or der she ran out to find Dr. Coriell, taking the child, strange to say, with her. As she went out she heard Mrs. Coriell cry for help. She subsequently added to this statement that the two men had met her in the street a day or two betore, and compelled her to swear upon the Bible that she would never reveal the authors of some deed which was soon to be done; but they were only accom plices in the murder; the actual perpetra tor was a woman named Ann Linen, who bad formerly been a servant in the family. Ann's motive was robbery ; the men were fired by a spirit of revenge for the death of a child of one of them whom the doctor had attended in its last sickness. But there was one startling evidence of the murderer's identity which served far more strongly than this extraordinary and contradictory story to fasten the crime upon Bridget herself. On the side of the dead woman's face, Just below the ear, were the marks of human teeth, where she had been bitten in the desperado struggle. Under the supervision of a dentist, an impression of Bridget's teeth was taken in wax. They were of rather peculiar shape, and the marks fitted exactly the wounds upon the corpse. There was another damning cir cumstance against her. The cries for help which she aeclared she heard as she ran out of the house had been heard by other per sons also, who noted the time when these fearful screams and cries of " Oh, my poor baby!" woke them out of sleep ; and it was more than half an hour afterward when Bridget Dorgan presented herself at Mr. Coriell's door, pretending that she had Just run from the doctor's house, which was not more than two minutes' walk distant. Whore had she been in the meantime? If she had loitered on the way that was proof enough of her complicity ; If she had come direct, she could not have lett the house un til the bloody work was over; she must have known that it was a worse crime than burglary which had been done; and all her story to the persons whom she summoned was a fabrication. Cuts were found upon her hands, and it was noticed, as an Indica tion of her purpose to run away, that im mediately after the alarm had been given she went to her room and put on four or five dresses, one over another. The knife with which the wounds wore made was found in an out-house. It belonged to the household. Dorgan was, of course, arrested, and her trial began on the 20th of May. it ended on the 31st with a verdict of guilty, in spite of the ingenious efforts of her counsel to explain away the circumstances which told so strongly against her, and to make the most of the story of the two men, Hunt and Doyle, and the girl Ann Linen. But all these three proved alibis in the most complete and satisfactory manner, and the attempt to implicate them damaged Der gan's case very materially. The groat diffi culty in the way of the prosecution was to show an adequate motive. The girl had always been well treated by her employers, and had professed that she hold thorn as her friends. To be sure she had received warn ing to leave; but do servants now-a-days take a discharge so much to heart as to make it a cause of murder f The deed probably was not done in a moment of passion, for there was ono cir cumstance which indicates that it was pro mediated: the day before, Dorgan had asked the man servant to write to the doc tor and warn him that something was about to happen, but he refused, saying she could just as well speak to him. Thesupposition is that the note in a man's hand was a clumsy device to divert • suspicion. No robbery was committed, though a bureau in which money was kept was found over turned. Had the woman been surprised by her mistress in the act of opening it, and was the fatal struggle the result of the discov ery? Not improbable, certainly. Thejudge who presided at the ,trial leaned to the opinion—based, it would appear, chiefly on the nature and number of the wounds—that the crime had been committed by two women, of whom Bridget Dorgan was one; and that their object was the possession of the money in the bureau. It la an extraor dinary supposition, and, if there is the slighest ground for it, It deserves a thorough investigation. There can be but little doubt as to the guilt of the unfortunate creature now awaiting sentence; but her crime, whether we regard the obscurity of its motive or the brutality with which it was executed, is one of the most rdit arkable, and in some respects most mysterious, of recent times.—New York Tribune. A cotton factory in Greenville, N. C., turns out 120,000 yards of cloth per week. Twenty inches of snow fell at Central City, Colorado, on the 19th of May. A barber in Chicago has been made to pay $2,800 for cutting off a customer's ear. Gen. Grant has gone to West Point to attend the examination there• It is stated that reconstruction in Vir ginia alone will cost half a million dollars. A party of Swiss laborers has arrived In Lynchburg, Va., and more are coming. A new Jewish Synagogue was dedicated in Richmond, Va., last week. The New Hampshire Legislature met and organized yesterday. Mr. Rangubie, the newly appointed Minister from Greece, has arrived at Boston on his way to Washington. Judge Durant has telegraphed to General Sheridan, declining tho appointment of Governor of Louisiana, Ono death from Asiatic, cholera was re ported in Jefferson City, La., on Monday of last week. A locomotive exploded yesterday,'at Hu ron, Michigan, killing two mon, and Nei. voroly scalding a third. A policeman namod Rogors wtusmurdor od by a drunken man namod Prowitt, in Memphis, yostorday, Gon. Longetreet ban written a lottor, which is publiehod in a Now Orleans paper urging acceptance of am torme of tho tary act. The city council of st, LOUIN has passed, an ordinance prohibiting any person frOm keeping more than two cows within the city limits. Madame Celeste hi playing tho part of the dumb boy In The Child of the Wreak at the Haymarket, at Victoria, British Columbia. The City Treasurer, Alderman and Com mon Council of Mobile have been rembvod by the military authorities, and their places Med by appointment. The people of the Piedmont section of inVitnia are now extensively employed in grawing and raising sheep. Their briproved and multiplied. "The Baited Stabs compound interest ne9 I will be redeemed as they become due 04, prOsett yon al the Assistant Treasurer's offices in ft fhiladelphia, New York and Boston. 'lb A severe thtu:..Yr storm passed over Cin cinnati on Tuesday afternoon. Several houses were struok by lightning, and the heavy rain did much damage to the streets and milers. The Richmond ladies on Friday decorated the graves of the Confederate dead. • The stores were closed. There were about 10,000 persons in attendance at Hollywood Cem etery. The official count of the votes for Gover nor of New Hampshire, cast at the last election, shows a majority of 3,010 for Gen. Harriman. Much money was staked on 3,000. Owing to unexpectedly large receipts from internal revenue and other sources, and small requisitions from the Depart ments, there was a reduction of several millions in the public debt last month. Mary Gilroy, one of the witnesses in the Coriell murder trial, at New Brunswick; N. J., has been committed to ftswer, in Elepqrmber next, as an acioomplice with Bridget Dorgan in the murder. A Montreal despatch reports that Nahum are prowling on the Eastern frontier pre• paring for a raid. Oar Government has been communicated with, so that con , . • action may be had In ease of a add.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers