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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
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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"'
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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.