skt puma 'entailment
1 1 3LII r 31TI T T7 P D PPP DA T P T lP!il$, ,
'H. !NI I Tlit "it 0.1
A:. 3. sTszniAtt
IL G. SMITH.
TIMMS—Two Pollan!. per atinan3, payabie
hl all anaos,la ailvaaosi.
aLLWWTXaDt42 IxTztsactssoga , la
b l ia blit atm ovenai l ltlOnday,olot0 01 41 at
16 per Atintxt,Lu advanco.
of 1s oonxis or Cliorrni
1114trAP1 1 . „
lattrg,
Iffxr,Es 0. BEILEY'fI Idifri POEN.
• .
Doltyareci at the Itketival OM) by fhl,..4 lo Vitt
O,Dicora and Him cif the, Cbreorun .4451041(
Jana, Wood July ?.19, leen, for the pu pole of
organfelno fobuild a Monument to Cengratrark
to thatßlears ar d Mier: of the Legion "Igacid
on the fileld of Honor."
To raise a column o'er the dead,
To strew with flowers the graves of those
Who long ago, in storms of lead, '
Arid where the bolts of battle sped,
Beside us raced our Houthern foes;
To honor these—the unshriven, utthearsed—
To•day we sad eurvtvorscome,
With colors draped, and arms reversed,
And all our souls Su gloom Immersed,
With silent fife mut muffled drum.
In tuonrnful guise our banners wave,
Black Monde above the "Hunburst" dower;
We mourn the true, the young, the brave,
Who (or title land that shelter gave
Drew swords in deadliest hour;—
For Irish soldiers, fighting here
As when Lord Clare wax bid advance,
And Cumberland beheld with tear
The old green banner swin In clear
Above the broken Unite of France.
We mourn them—not becauso they died
In battle (or our destined race
In every field of warlike pride,
From Limerick's walls to India's tide,
Have borne our flag to foremost place,—
As if oach nought the soldier's trade
Willie some dim hope within lilm, glows,
Before he dies, In hue arrayed,
To see the old (Mean Flag ulsplayed
For final fight with Ireland `n iota
For such a race the soldier's death _
.
Houma not a cruel death to die—
Around their names a laurel wreath.
A wild cheer 1111 the punk' g breath
On which their spirits mount the sky;
O had their hones been oily won
On Irish coil, their }Mal light,
And had they neon, ere sinking down,
Our Emerald torn nom England's croWn,
Each dead lace would havellashod with ligld
But vain aro words to cheek the tido
Of widowed OM' and orphaned woo;
Again we moo them by our aide
Am full of youth, and titreugth, and pride
They lirlit wont forth to meet the loot
Their kindling eyes, their mops elate,
Their grief at parting bid in mirth ;
Againid, our foes no spark of hate—
No Wish but to precorve the State
That weleomem all IV oppreumed of cat Lb
Not anew Ireland to 11/VOICe
To guard the nog was all they sought;
Not to Make others feel the yoke
Of Poland, fell the o.bot and stroke
Of those who In the legion fought;
Upon our banner's azure field,
To hold unbal med each starry gem—
Thls came on many a bloody neld,
Thinned nut by death, they would . not y lehl—
It was the warble lust hope to them,
0 yo, the email surviving band,
O Irish ratio, wherever spread,
With wailing volee and wringing hand;
And the wild Moine of the old dear land,
Think alter Legion's eountleioi dead i
Willett out of life by ball or blade,
Or torn in fragments by the shell,
With briefest prayer by brother made,
And rudely in their blankets laid,
Now sleep the bravo who !ought no Well
Their widows—tell not [hem of pride—
No laurel cheeks the orphan's tear;
They only feel the world le wide
And dark and Kurd—nor help nor gulde—
No Husband's arm. nu Father near;
NUL at, their woe our fields were won,
And piouspity for their loss
Inlilrellllll4 Of 101101 . 01111 old should run
To help them nay "Thy will be done,"
All hunt in grief they kiss ilno Croon,
Then for tho Soldiers unit their Uhler
Lot nil oopthlno n 111111,1 L to rake,—
Tho doplrlo typo or pride and grior,
With loftily IL moulptury roliot
To toll (Milli Into to oiler Onyx;
And limp will NM:to—our mountain boom
Whilti ono of !Halt blood kurvlvoli
!Mortal to that, unMlLering t Oil t,
Of !midterm from it dl.uu, I (moat,
Who fur Um Until gavo Muir II :
NVeloorricel they were wllh gelwrouH heed
And to !hal welemne nobly true,
When War's dread t °rain Mind Mho land,
With sinewy aria nud swinging brand,
These exiles to the rehear how ;
There fealty to the Flag they gave,
And for the UlllOll, daring death,
Foremost among dm foremost bravo,
They welcomed victory aud thin !crave
In the mime Nigh of parting breath."
Thus be their modemt libilory penned,
nut not With Willi our love Intuit mew
Let, prnyer4 from plow; bonito useend,
And o'er their !mine+ let 118 blend
- -
All feuds and fam lona Into penco;
0 non of Irulaull I here unlto
Around thu gray. of Moen wu love,
And from thulr humus or outdone light
Tho Legion'm (loud will Muss the idled
=IEMMIE=IMMI
Here to thin nitrine by reverence lad,
Lot love her snored banana touch—
Shoulder to nhonider riett the 'limit,
From many a treneh with bottle rod,
And hue I hoar limir ohotaly speech:
"0 for the old Furth, •ind our make
Renounce all feuds, ongto.dering fear—
And Ireland from her tranne shall waits,
Striving once more her c e olns to becalc
MS===M=
I see our Meugher'splume of green
Approving nod to hear the words,
And Coreoran'sghost, applaud- the scene
And bud Mat. Murphy smiles, I wean,
All throe with bands on trostly swords:
Oh for their sake, WLIO.I.IILIMIN of light
Flash out Ilku beacons faun dark shores—
Mon of the old Race! In your might,
All factious quelled, again un Ite—
With you too preen Flag sinks or ROUTH!
MALES O'REILLY.
The " Suuburet" le I he chief emblem on the
ancient lehib
piocilantouo.
The Romance of the Great Gaines Case.
11=
". When, hereafter, some distinguished
Atnerlean lawyer shall retire from his
practice to write the history of his country's
jurisprudence this ease will be registered
y him as the most remarkable lu the re
cords of its courts."
So said the Supreme Court of the
United States, speaking In the person
of Associate Justice Wayne, when in
18(10, for the sixth time, it decided upou
an Issue In the famous case of Myra
Clark Gaines.
Justice Wayne's language was judi
cially careful. The subject of his refer
ence justified him in terming it the
" most remarkable" iu all the records
of American courts. When he thus
spoke, it had been for twenty•six years
threading the tortuous path of the law.
Commencing in 1834, it had been in
every court of Louisiana, and six times
in the Supreme Court of the United
States. It had at times been represent
ed by the ablest counsel in the country,
and at other times by no counsel at all.
It had enlisted on one side romantic
and sympathetic enthusiasm, and on
'the other had incurred the opposition
of the most immense and perfectly hon
est private interests. It had divided the
court in the most irreconcilable and an
tagonistic opinions. It had been deci
ded upon the same Issues of fact, by the
same bench of judges, in the light of
substantially the same testimony, in
precisely opposite direction.
Ono woman had been the mo ving spurn
of all Ulla litigation.
Her suit was a most audacious ono.
She attacked that most sensitive, most
carefully guarded Interest, the posses
slim of real property, and threatened In
her (Mints the overthrow of all that was
stable In the Ideas of law evil custom In
respect to IL liar claim was for houses,
lands, and human property, which had
passed into the hands of hundreds of
different owners. Their title could be
traced back for years previous to the
commencement of this suit, without a
blemish of irregularity. It had come
through dozens of hands, all of whom
had bought and sold in perfect good
faith, and without the shadow of sus
picion.
ft was the one woman against five
hundred men.
Tt was one resolute claim for Abstract
Justice against five hundred Apparent
Rights, fortified in every tradition of
law and every selfish Interest of organ
ized society.
The evidence to support the claim
was as remarkable as the demand itself.
At, the end of twenty-six years of law,
when Justice Wayne pronounced his
decision, he passed in review upon alle
gations of fact, running back into the
last century. He inquired Into• the
most private life of individuals, and an
alyzed their most intimate relations, in
the earliest five years of the pregent
century. Upon the view which the
Court took of the occurrence or other
wise of circumstances alleged to have
happened in those years, depended the
result of this case. And finally, they
being determined favorably to the
claims of Mrs. Gaines, her fortunes
turned upon the established existence
of a will, which even she did not pre
tend ever had an existence after the de•
cease of the testator;- and the purport of
which 'had no other proof than the
recollections, after the lapse of more
than forty years, of aged pod Infirm
persons who remembered, hearing it
read. • •
Such were some of the features which
the learned justice pronounced "most
remarkable."
Let us draw from this tangled okein
of real life the thread of romance whose
remote end, silvered by time, has its
origin seventy years ago in an atmos
phere of society and under a system of
government so foreign that we can now
scarcely realize them. , ,
'We must . go back to the commence=
Meat of the'present century; Lind imag
ine ourselvesin New Orleans,imder the
Spanish rule. The laws -were amnions ,
mixture of weak civil authority and
deoaylug ecclesiastical , control. • The
BPalliWPOSsesslona .in America were
but an eitrapawn upon.the obese-board
of European politico. New Orleans was
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VOLUME 69:'
I a true tropical ,iilty ,
population
arca'gamated frOin 'a dozen different
races; its morale corrupted from AS
Many different sources. Already it was
the seat of lUxury,•for the great Allis's.
elppi rolled 'past its thou as now.
Molt prima of landed estates, wealthy
merehants'and'extenalve traders, as well
as proud grandees of an anaien regime,
sipped sherbets under the magnolias.
Among the rich men of the oily In
this stage of Its existence, whose ships
were on many seas, and whose interests
were recorded in the counting-houses
of many cities, was Daniel Clark, a
shipping merchant and a politician, Ile
stood at the head of his rank, a prince
among a class whose luxurious and ele
gant life has seldom been surpassed.
Born in Sligo, Ireland, and Uncle in
New Orleans, a bachelor—as all the
merchants of the city were — had Invited
him to come to the New World, engage
with him in business, and become his
heir. The estate thus inherited had
been boldly and skilfully managed.
Fortunate ventures had added to it, and
illegitimate as well as strictly proper
means had probably gone to swell the
grand aggregate.
This merchant-prince was a man of
strong character, restless and far-reach
ing ambition, whose imperious will lit
tle brooked opposition, and knew no
control except the code which a society
composed of such as himself rudely or
ganized and often violently maintained.
Justice Wayne, in delivering the opin
ion of the Supreme Court at the term
of 1847, described him as a " man of n
ordinary character or influence on those
who were about him. His natural flt
ness to control became habitual as his
wealth and standing increased, and it
was exercised, and involuntary yielded
to by all wim associated or were in busi
ness with him. He was n man of high
qualities, but of no rigor of virtue or
self-control ; energetic, enterprising,
courageous, affectionate, and generous,
but with pride which had yielded to no
mortification until his affection sub
dued it to a sense of Justice in behalf of
his child."
Such a character filled a prominent
place in the political and social life of
New Orleans. In 1708 he had acted as
consul on behalf of the Interests of the
United States. When, In 1802, he vie-
Ited Purls, he was treated with marked
respect by the French government,
which, having obtained the cession of
Louisiana from Spain by the secret
treaty of St. Ildofonso, was desirous of
learning its present condition and value.
General Victor, on behalf of the First
Consul, listened respectfully, In a con
fidential audience, to the statements of
"the merchant from New Orleans,"
While Minister Livingston, charged by
President Johnson with the delicate
duty of negotiating for the purchase—
"outside of the Constitution "—of
Louisiana, ut a price not too groat for
the necessitous economies of the Amer
icuu treasury, was full of alarm and
watch fulness at these Intimate commit
!deadens. Active, and doubtless not
especially scrupulous, Clark at home
was a perpetual thorn in the side of
worthy but nervous Claiborne, the first
American Governor, who denounced
him at one time as secretly an enemy
of the United States, and who was con
sequently annoyed and mortified, when
In the same year ho was elected the
first delegate from Louisiana to the
National Congress.
In the heated atmosphere of a society
ruled by passion, this proud chevalier
"became acquainted," about 1802, with
Madame Zullute Do Granges, the wife
of Monsieur Jerome, of that name. The
latter was a Frenchman by birth, a
" nobleman" of France, as was after
ward testified of him, but In Now Or
leans, In the language of Judge Catron,
only "a humble shopkeeper.' His wife,
who had married him at the early ago
of thirteen, was a Creole of rare and
voluptuous beauty. They had been
wedded, when Clark made their ac
quaintance, for about eight years.
The relationship that ensued between
the merchant and Madame De Oranges
can better appear by the facts hereafter
recited than by a too positive and cir
cumstantial statement. We can hardly
be charitable enough to disguise the
truth as It must subsequently appear.
More than thirty years afterward
Madame Caillaret, the sister of Madame
De Oranges, made her deposition in be
half of her niece, the heroine of this
story. She affirmed that she knew Clark
made to her family propositions of mar
riage with Zulime' "alter it had become
known" that her marriage with De
Grangev was void, because a previous
wife, to whom he had been married in
France, was still living.
How and when did so startling a fact
become known? What was the inti
macy between Clark and Zulime when
it was discovered? A multitude of sug
gestive questions arise and must be dis
missed.
Some time in the early summer of 1802,
however, found Madame De Granges
and another sister, Madame Deepen,
in Philadelphia. They had come, says
the latter lady, by way of New York.
In that city they had been diligently
turning over old marriage registers in
the Catholic churches, hoping to find
the record of De Grange previous mar
riage. Nothing of the kind had re
warded their search, but they were told
of a witness to the ceremony, Gardette
by name, whom they would find in
Philadelphia. Hence their presence In
the latter city.
Mr. Gardette was found, and was ex
plicit and satisfactory in hisstatements.
He had been a.witness to the alleged
marriage. He knew the wife then
by De Granges to be still living.
Was more proof necessary? Appar
ently not. The wife of eight years felt
convinced of her husband's perfidy.
The bond between them had been a
guilty dishonor, not an honorable wed
lock. The rumors in New Orleans had
their full confirmation. She was free.
At this juncture who came upon the
scene? The merchant-lover from New
Orleans. The consequence is readily
imagined. A private marriage was
proposed, pressed, consented to, and
according to Madame Despau, according
to the Supreme Court, the ceremony
was duly performed by a priest ; the
good Despau, M. Dolsier, of Louisiana,
and a friend of Mr. Clark, from New
York, being witnesses.
At this point let us consider two facts
established—the bigamy of De Oranges,
and consequent nullity , of Zulime's
union with him; and the performance
of a legal marriage between herself and
Daniel Clerk, Both these have been
decided to be facts by the Supreme
Court. 13oth were, at different times,
vitally important in the decisions upon
the cialmeof Mrs. Gaines.
But the testimon in regard to this
Philadelphia visits not without con
trailotion.
In the opinion pronounced by the
Supreme Court, on the fourth appeal to
It lu this case—the only one decided ex
plicitly against Mrs. Gaines—Judge Ca
tron dwelt upon the testimony of Daniel
W. Coxe. Mr. Coxe was the business
partner and personal friend of Daniel
Clark. They seem to have been con
genial as well as familiar. Judge Ca
tron described them as nearly of the
same age, "both proud, intelligent and
ambitious of success, equals in rank,
and intimate in their social relations as
a common interest and constant inter
cource could make them."
lu April or August, 1802, said Mr.
Coxe in his testimony, thirty-five years
afterward, a lady came to him in Phil
adelphia. She presented, for introduc
tion, a confidential letter from Mr.
Cia.A. The latter in his note charged
his friend With' the performance of a
delicate duty. In brief, the communi
cation stated that the lady, whom Mr.
Clark thus confided to his friend's care,
was about to become a mother—her
child was his—care for herexpected sit
uation in the most tender and luxuri•
ous manner. ! •
- - - .
The lady was Madame De Granges.
Mr. Coice,dischar,ged the trust confid
ed to him. His'testimony concerning
it is circumstantially full. The babe was
sent away to be nursed. 'Funds for her
maintenance came from her father.
She was comfortably reared, grew to
womanhood, married respectably, and
afterward appeared as h party in inter
est, in one of the many phases of the
"most remarkable" Gaines ease.
Judge. Catron was the , steady oppo
nent, as. Judge Wayne was the faithful
friend, of Mrs; Gaines and her claims.
Upon this testlitnony of Mr. Coate, as
showing the apparent motive of the
visit, to Philadelphia, he dwelt with
terrible severity in his opinion. He de
clared that the wife fled from her hus
band's companionshiP to conceal her
'dishonor, and notto peek for proofs of
his bigamy,`.He accepted Mr. Coice's
Itatements that these events. occurred
in 1802, and that in 1808, when Despau
IMS=====l
, ,
testified the wedding took place, Clarke
Was not in Philadelphiast all.l.
Still, Mr. Com) may readlly•have been,
right In his narration of circumstances,
and wrong in his dates. Or there to
nothing, indeed, to allow. that4bough
Madame Despau did not' apparently
tell all that occurred during their North
ern visit, what she testified to was true
as tar as it went, and the wedding did
take , place.
Right or wrong, it is useless now to
speculate. Presumption must be upon
the side of Virtue. The daughter of
Zulime has crowned her life.time strug
gle with success, and part of that suc
cess la the vindi cation of her mother's
fame, as well the assertion of her own
despoiled rights.
More than that, her theory Is the
theory of the highest courts in the land.
We go hack to New Orleans. After
the marriage, says Madame Despau, her
sister and herself hurried home, on re
ceipt of theintelligence that the French
wife of De Granges had made her ap.
pearanoe and claimed her rights.
Other witnesses afterward testified
that they remembered some scandal of
this sort.
And then, it is said, De Granges was
regularly prosecuted. The evidence of
his bigamy was fully established. He
was convicted and imprisoned. Zulitne
had been waiting impatiently for this.
No acknowledgment of her marriage
had yet been published by Clark, and
though they lived in the most intimate
relations, she did not occupy his house.
But with the Judicial proof of De
Grange's bigamy she anticipated her
Justification before the world, and her
accession to her proper rank in society,
as the wife of such a husband as Clarke.
Foul aceldent! Just at this moment,
when so much of happiness depended,
De Grange escaped from his prison.—
Treachery inside the walls had assisted
him. The Spanish Governor himself
was charged with connivance. He was
hurried down the Mississippi, placed
upon a ship lying in the passj tat ready
to sail, and fled to France, never to re
turn.
Zulime was not acknowledged. She
was never known to the world as the
wife of Daniel Clark during his life
time.
Afterward, this prosecution and con
viction were questioned by the oppo
nents of Mrs. Gaines. They produced
in court the record of an ecclesiastical
court proceeding, in which a certain
Jerome De Granges was charged with
bigamy, but where the evidence failed
to show his guilt, and he was discharged.
This, they said, is the trial of De Granges,
It proves innocence, It proves there
could ha've been no legal marriage be
tween Zulimo and Daniel Clark, for she
was already the lawful wife of a living
man. It proves that the claimant of
this property, the child of Daniel Clark
and Zulime, was not a lawful child and
was nut an belr to her father's estate.
All admitted that Be Granges fled
from the country. But Judge Catron
intimated that perseoutlon by powerful
and wealthy enemies drove him away.
The decisions of the court, however,
are written. They leave It to be infer
red that there was another prosecution
in the civil courts, and though the re
cord of it was never found, upon the
most diligentseareh in every depository
of records in New Orleans, still this was
not conclusive against its possible ex
leteuce, for the official papers of the
French and Spanish Governments had
been widely scattered and lost, upon the
transfer of the territory to the United
States.
The confidential agent of Daniel
Clarke, in the control of several of his
large estates, was M. Bolefontaine, a
refugee from St. Domingo, and appar•
ently a gentleman of culture and honor.
His relations with Mr. Clark were Intl.
mate. In his house, in New Orleans,
In July, 1805, Myra, the daughter of
Zulime and Daniel Clark, the Myra
Clark Gaines of the great lawsuit, was
born. She was placed, immediately
after her birth, in the family of Col.
S. B. Davis, the brother-in-law of M.
Boisfontaine, and spent her childhood
in his household.
In these years, it would appear, she
never knew her mother. It was long
after, and under very changed circum
stances, when the infant had grown to
be a mature woman, before the mother
and daughter met in recognition. Her
father she did not know as such. Per.
haps in the dim memories of her child
hood there is still associated the appear
ance of a tall and handsome man, who
smiled upon her, kissed her, and filled
her arms with pretty presents. But be
yond this fading photograph on these
delicate recollections of her earliest
years, Myra never knew her father.
His election to Congress, in 1806, took
Clark to Washington. He parted from
his wife, and sailed for Philadelphia.
Letters reached her, bringing news of
his arrival. Then communication ceas
ed. Zulime waited patiently, but no
word came from him. He may have
written; it is said that the business
partners of Clark, through whom his
correspondencepassed, suppressed the
letters to his wife, and destroyed those
which she gave them to be forwarded
to him.
At any rate, the relationship between
the two ceased forever. Husband and
wife, or lover and mistress—bound In
law and purity, or led by license and
passion—their association dissolved,and
was never renewed. They barely saw
each other again ' years after ; and
when they did, Zulime was the wife—
truly and formerly wedded—of another
man!
Her sisters say she was " hurt" by
the refusal of Clark to acknowledge her
as his wife. She may have felt that
her relation to him was a pure and pro-
per one. Licentious New Orleans
might lightly regard the marriage tie,
or little care for absence, but she was
truly a wife.*
The correspondence ceased. Clark
wrote not, or his letters failed to reach
her. She may have written—doubtless
she did. Ho may have releived them—
perhaps he did, and tossed them idly
by .At last there came a report on the
wings of gossiping tongues that he was
paying his court, to a beautiful lady
of the North. They were engaged to be
married I
Stund to the quick, Zullme resolved
upon a bold stop. She followed to
Philadelphia. She hurried to Mr. Coxe,
and demanded to know the truth of
of these stories. She thundered in his
ear the fact that she was married to
Daniel Clark. She was his wife. Who
was this woman who had won away
her husband 8 Whore was the false
husband who had been unfaithful to
her?
Mr. Coxe smiled.
Mr. Coxe asked for the proof of her
marriage. Alas! she could find none.
She searched for records, but they were
lost or destroyed. The priest had dis
appeared. He had gone to Ireland.
The witnesses were out of reach, and
possibly beyond all knowledge.
Mr. Coxe said, why be so foolish as to
persist in so absurd a claim? Why in
sist upon this idea, which you can
bring no testimony to support? What
figure can you make in assertion' of
yourself as a wife, if Daniel Clark, the
great merchant, the powerful politician,
is against you?
She saw a lawyer. He was probably
a confidant as well as a friend of Mr.
Coxe. He produced a letter from Mr.
Clark, announcing his engagement to
Miss C—, of Baltimore.
One against many—Zulime suc
cumbed.
Her dagghter Myra would have
fought and triumphed.
There is a story that Zuilme, sad
with her lost and aching heart, stung
with jealousy and bitterness, went to
Baltimore, and followed her husband
in his carriage to a party at the home
of the young lady with whose name
his had been connected. From her
hackney-coach, outside, faint with ,fa
flip° and exhaustion but filled wtth
the fury of her scorned love, her eyes
blinded by tears, her nerves quivering
with excitement, she looked at the il
luminated mansion, saw the flashing of
lights, heard the swell of the music, the
measured tread of dancers, and, at last
—bitter bitter'sight I—the well-known
form of man she loved came out
upon the verandah and' paced slowly
along, with a fair girl hanging upon his
arm.
It was true, then. Shc went back to
Philadelphia.
*These were days of loose morality in New
Orleans. Private virtue was held of little
value. Scarcely, a prominent merchant had a
lawful wife; yet none were without an estat,-
iushment, a mistress, and in most cases. a nu
merous family. A gentleman of an older day
than this, who knew the merchants of forty
years ago, in the Crescent City, could then
hardly count one, in thirty of his acquain
tance, Who Was lawfillly married.
LANCASTER PA: WEDNESDAY MORNINq AI;r9ITST 12 1868 ,
A few wocks afterward oho married
Jr. Gardette t
Zullme was a Frenchwoman.
,Daniel Clark died on the 16th of Au.
pet, 1811 , The preceding illness was
brief and severe. Few friends, were
about him. Boisfontnlne, the agent,
says he was continually with him. Lu
bin, a faithflil body servant; was devo
ted in his , attentions. Mr. Belt, his
partner, wasnear him In the last hours.
What took, place on the day of his
death'?
The establishment of Mrs. Gaines'
claim carries withit thli statement of
facts:
Clark had made his will in 1811. He
appointed his partners, Richard Relf
and Beverly Chew, his executors, and
his mother, Mary Clark, sole legatee.
But he made another will in 1818. /n
that he declared Myra Davis to be his
daughter and only legitimate child,,and
left to her the whole of his estate.
Col. Joseph Devilie, Degoatine, Belle
clime, James Pitot, and Chevalier De
la Croix, were executors. All were well
kn,own citizens of New , Orleans, and
intimate personal and business fr,lends
of Clark.
Such a will, it is asserted, did exist
previous to. Daniel Clark's death; It
was entirely in his band writing, duly
signed and sealed. He had shown it to
several intimate friends, read it to some,
Informed others of Its contents, and
spoke of Its existence to others still.—
Four months before his death, says Mr.
Boisfontalue, be spoke to me of a new
will. Twenty-five days before his death
he said . "It is done." Ten days later
he banded a package to the Chevalier
De la Croix for his inspection, in my
presence, saying, "It is my will." The
day before his death he again referred
to it, and said it was placed in his pri
vate room, In a " little black ease."
The end drew near. Under the fer
vid summer sun, the rich merchant
was dying. Two hours before he died,
he once more referred to the subject
which seemed so much to agitate him.
It was natural that It should do so. It
was justice to his daughter—the child
of the woman whom he had loved.
In this last moment he solemnly
charged Bolsfontaine and Lubin to fail
not in handing to De la Croix, when all
should be over, the precious "little
black case,"
Then he became unconscious.
And then, says Mrs. Gaines—then,
say the witnesses whose depositions
support her—Reif, the partner, turned
to the armoire, took up the bunches of
keys, and left the room. Lubin follow;
ed him a moment after, and passed the
door of the private room. He tried to
enter, but it was looked, He heard a
noise, as of rustling among papera.
When the little black ease came to be
examined, no will was there I
Instead of' it, Messrs. Reif and Chow
produoed the will of 1811, It was ad
mitted to probate ; and they assumed
charge of the dead merchant's great es
tates.
In 1812, Colonel Davis, with his
family, including his little daughter
Myra, removed to Philadelphia, and
some years later he took up his resi
dence at a handsome place on the out
skirts of Wilmington. Here passed the
later years of Myra's girlhood. Her
supposed father, though living in com
fort, and even elegance, was a man of
marked character, subject to serious
outbreaks of temper, when provoked,
and received at his mansion no very
wide circle of society. Myra had a
limited acquaintance and few intimate
friends. At this distance of forty years,
there are very few persons in Wilming
ton who retain a distinct knowledge of
Colonel Davis' daughter Myra.
The current of life shifted. There
came to her guardian's home a young
gentleman from New York, William
Wallace Whitney. He brought with
him ample letters of Introduction ; but
for some reason Colonel Davis failed to
regard him favorably. If he met with
no very warm response In that quarter,
however, lie had ample compensation
—he gained the love of Myra.
At this discovery her gurdlan grew
fearfully angry. He forbade the corres
pondence between the lovers. He inti
mated that he had another and more
distinguished alliance in view. From
some of his disclosures she gained the
first intimation that he' was not her
father.
The correspondence, of course, con
tinued. At length Whitney wrote to
Colonel Davis that he would againvisit
his house, and assert the propriety of
his addresses, and claim from him an
acknowledgment of his position as a
suitor. At this the wrath of the guar
dian knew no bounds. He raged and
threatened. He would shoot the auda
cious lover. He would challenghim.
He should not leave Wilmington alive.
Myra became seriously alarmed.
In this condition of affairs she resolved
that she must meet her lover and ward
him not to come. This she must do in
secret. She secured the services of a
faithful servant to take her, late at
night, in the carriage to Wilmington.
Retiring to her chamber, she waited till
the household sank into quiet, and then
hurried down to meet the old coach•
man. The night was dark and stormy.
Rain fell in torrents. She had hastily
gathered a slender supply of clothing
into her trunk, and the servant helped
her carry it to the carriage.
In trembling anxiety lest the hounds,
which had been carefully tied up by the
servant, might still give an alarm, or
thatsome other misch an ce should betray
them, the frightened girl sprang into
the carriage, and they drove silently
down the avenue. Apprehensive of
pursuit, they fancied they heard noises
behind them. They did not pause to
open the avenue gates, but pressed the
horses against them, and burst them
outward. Hurrying down the road,
the turnpike gate was closed and fas
tened. They dared not call the keeper,
lest his suspicions soould be aroused. A
rush from the horses burst this new
obstacle.
Midnight had chimed from the old
town clock on market street Hill, when
they drove into Wilmington. A light
in the window of a familiar dwelling
signalled the wet and trembling girl.
An intimate female friend, who bad
been apprised of the intended flight by
brief note in the course of the day,was
patiently waiting for her. On the breast'
of her companion she sobbed her relief.
So far all was safe.
Mr. Whitney was expected to come
by the steamboat from Baltimore. He
would land, on the river side, at New
Castle, five miles away. At. daylight,
Myra set out to intercept him. Not
meeting him, she took the boat to. Bal
timore, hoping she might see him there.
Instead of that, he bad set out at the
same timeshe did,and they unknowing
ly crossed each other's paths. Fortunate
ly, her friends at New Castle detained
him when he arrived, and on her prompt
return, they happily met.
The guardian's anger spent its force.
He learned that the lovers were about to
be married in Philadelphia. Myra was
of age. He had much to lose by declin
ing a reconciliation. He offered her his
home for a wedding; and she gladly
aceeptee.;
Early in the autumn, when (as one of
the, bridesmaids, at this distance of
thirty-six years, tells us), the fires were
lightedon the hearths, the wedding took
place.
The Genius of the Romantic seemed
still to be the ruling spirit. The even
ing was already far spent, and all was
ready for the ceremony; when it was
discovered that no license had been
procured. The bridegroom was annoy
ed, the bride trembled, the bridesmaids
fluttered with additional tremors of ex
citement. A messenger was despatch
ed, to ride with all speed, upon the
swiftest horse in the stables, to Wil•
mington,lo procure the licence. But
a stupid servant gave him., instead, an
old blind animal, who stumbled, and
blundered along in the rain and mud.
Finding a magistrate with difficulty, it
was ten o'clock before he , returned and
the ceremony could proceed.
Just as it was over, says alp, old lady,
who was then the fair young brides
maid, the storm, which had prevailed
during all the evening, ceased. The
wind fell, the night calmed, and from
among the scattered clouds the moon
shone with peaceful rays across the
lawn.
Was it a premonition for the bride?
Mr. Whitney took his wifelo New
York, and they dwelt for perhaps two
years at Binghamton, the home of his
famity.
It was a season of rest before a life
time of labor; two years of peace be
fore thirty of .contention and. struggle.
Mrs. Whitney had learned her pa.,
rentage. From Davis himself she gath
ered that she had. been deceived during
all her girlhood. Little by little she
}This marriage took place In August, 1808'
placed 'together' the 'fragMents . of evi-'
donee, till St last the truth buret 131100
her—dica the weallh of her father, Dan,
id Clark, Of New °Kleans. who , died
twenty years aget, was ,lusl4( hers
Thistitith took poksessfoil
It was her inspleation. It abode:led her
.faculties, and gave but one color to her
thoughts. She took It up as the Wes
to a life of exertion. Seized by this con
viction, she, has been ' since that mo
ment, only the embodiment of a put
pose, .fixed,i resolute, mad. , •She -has
been a thousand times thwarted; she
has never failed. Against opposition,
over difficulties, in spite of obstacles,
shehavaccepted no result but success,
and never doubting that 'she would at
tain lt, thirty-four years' battle has
brought victory at last.,
Seven times, note, hasher case clal med
the attention of the highest court'of
law. First there was a decision in 1889,
which did not mist her. Again in 1841;
this was technical but favorable. Again
in 1844, with similar result. .In 1847 she
first gained decided success. Justice
Wayne, her steady friend, almost her
advocate, declared for the court that her
claim to property, in New Orleans, now
occupied by parties whop) title came
from .Relf and Chew, executors of the
will .of 1811, was valid. lie decided
that she was the legitimate daughter of
Laniel Clark, and consequently, under
the laws of Louisiana, could not be die-
possessed entirely. as the , will of 1811
assumed to do. She must be "forced
heir" to a portion. In this case Chief
Justice Taney did not sit, a near family
relative being interested ; Justice Mo.
Lyon did not; and Justice Catron, be
ing indisposed, did not. It was the
first decided success.
In 1851 came adversity. Judge Ca
tron pronounced the opinion of the
court, unfavorable to every claim which
Mrs. Gaines set up. A bill in eqtlity,
claiming the share to which her moth
er (Zulime) would, as the legal wife of
Daniel Clark,be entitled to by the Louis.
lane law, In spite of the will of 1811,
was summarily dismissed, on the
ground that she was not the legitimate
OE4I of Daniel Clark.
n this, of course, Judge Wayne join.
ed by Judge Daniel, dissented.
But again, in 1800, there was a new
decision. In the Interim the destroyed
will of 1813 had been admitted to pro
bate, and this probate, upon appeal,
sustained in the Louisiana courts, its
contents being established by the recol
lections of those who heard it read by
Clark. This important point, gained
in 1805, had claimed victory from the
Jaws of defeat. The whole case—law,
fact, technicalities, side issues, every
thing—was reviewed, and upon every
point decided In favor of Mrs. Gaines.
Justice Wayne once more speakingg for
the court. Justice Catron again differ
ed, and the Chief Justice (whose inter
est through his relative seems to have
ceased) and Judge Grier 'coined him.—
Catron's opinion is most unfriendly,
and reviews with caustic severity the
apparently weak points in the claim
ant's case. In summing up he said;
"If the decision in 12th Howard [his
own opinion df 1821] be overthrown,
ruin must be the consequence to very
many who have had confidence in Its
soundness."
Relying upon it as conclusive, an im ,
mense amount of the disputed property
had chanced hands, and become vastly
improved, In theinterveningnine years.
He added (this Is directly denied by
Judge Davis in the decision of 1808) that
Clark was a ruined man at his decease.
"His failure was very large; his estate
was wholly insolvent. The purchasers
have in fact paid his debts to a large
amount. Many of them are yet un
paid." The property claimed, he said,
has probably increased in value five
hundred fold since 1820," the date of
Relf and Chew's sales, whence the de
fendants derived their title.
Judge Grier was scarcely lees pro
nounced in his views. He closed his
dissent with these vigorous words :
" 1 wholly dissent from the opinion of
the majority of the Court in this case,
both as to the law and the facts. But I
do not think it necessary to vindicate
my opinion by again presenting to the
public view a history of the scandalous
gossip which has been burled under the
dust of half a century, and which a
proper feeling of delicacy should have
suffered to remain so; I therefore dis
miss the case, as I hope, for the last time,
with the single remark, that if it be the
law of Louisiana that a will can be es
tablished by the dim recollections,
imaginations, or inventions of stifle
gossips, after forth-live years, to disturb
the- titles and possessions of bona tide
purchasers, without notice, of an appar
ently indefeasible legal title, Baud
equidem invideo, miror magiB." (I do
notindeed envyyour position,butrather
wonder at it.)
The particular case decided was
against Duncan N. Hennen, of New
Orleans, who held title for a square of
ground, bounded by Phillippi, Circus,
and Poydras streets. That had come
into his hands through the following
transfers :
1820. Sold by Relf and Chew, execu
tors of Daniel Clark, and attorneys in
fact for Mary Clark, to Azelio Lavigne.
1836. Azelic Lavigne toJ. Hiddleston.
1836. J. Hiddleston to New Orleans
and Carrollton Railroad Co.
1844. N. O. &C. R. R. Co. to D. N.
Hennen. .
After twenty-six years' possession,
nine of which had been in confirmation
of a decision of this court, Hennen was
dispossessed by this decrees
The decision of 1860 would seed to
be conclusive and final. It was so in
tended to be. But Mrs. Gaines was still
resisted. Once more, in 1868, her claims
have been confirmed. Her old friend
Judge Wayne, and her old—can we say
opponent ?—Judge Catron, are off the
bench. Judge Davis spoke the opinion
of himself, Chief Justice Chase, and
Associates Nelson, Clifford, and Field,
while Judges Grier, Swayne, and Mil
ler dissented.
This decision—seventh mandate from
the Supreme Court of the United States
—is surely final. Opening it, Judge
Davis said
"It was supposed, after the decision
in Gaines vs. Hennen (24 Howard),that
the litigation, pursued in one form or
another over thirty years by the com
plainant, to vindicate her rights in the
estate of her father, was ended."
And in conclusion, he asked
Can we indulge the hope that the
right of Myra Clark Gaines in the ,
es
tate of her father, Daniel Clark, Will
now be recognized ?" • .
Such is the outline of the progress of
the Gaines case through thirty-four
years of law. The-legal reader can turn
to the books, and study the reports at
leisure. Our sketch will be completed
with a brief reference to the moving
spirit of this long effort.
Ma.rried in 1832, learning her true his-
tory, though not fully, soon after, com
mencing her suits in 1834, Mrs. 'Whit-.
nay was left, amid the pestilence of New
Orleans, a widow in 1,838. Tlie yellow
fever struck down her husband in a
few hours. She was alone, with three
little children, a slender fortune, few
friends, in the midst of actual enemies,
for her bold claims had produced the
most bitter opposition. A fearful duty
stood before her.
Somewhat later she met Gen. Gaines.
He was warmly interested in her his
tory; and he could not, doubtless, re
sist the winning eloquence of her ad=
dress or her piquant charm§ of person,
They were married ; and thence till
now the heroine of the storyis not Myra
Davis, Myra Clark, nor Myra Clark
Whitney, but Myra Clark Gaines.
The law's delays were fearfully ex
pensive. The little fortune received at
her marriage soon melted--she had
spentthe whale of her husband's estate.
She had borrowed of his family, and
she had boirowed - Of every one who was
bold enough to listen 'to 'her persuasive
voice, for she " talked the money out of
their pockets." Nobody could listen
fifteen minutes to her without sharing
in her enthusiasm and perfect convic
tion of ultimate success. ' She had feed
the' ablest lawyers in the land with
princely retainers, when she had money;
and she had more than once plead her
own case when money could not be, ob
tained. She knew the law perfectly.
She had mastered details as well as
principles. She knew.precederits, .and
did not stumble upon quibiples. ,Once,
it is said, she spoke two hours and a
half to a Jury, sand Won her &se.
Once more with a friend and partner
in her struggle, she , fought forward.
General Gaines ,devoted .his, time and
his fortune to the work. For ten years
the gallant old Gen eralUnd his beautiful
young wife planned and executed their
campaigns together. She had youth,flke
and energy ; he had i wealth, position
and a chivalrous devotion to her cause.
Should you search over the files of
somenld dampeners, abou ypu
!may litid•nientkin'of the'lecturi g 'Wur
of Greneral and Mn, Gaines.: . • They de
hvered,, in company, ,R se:lima lectures
upoh subjects which w ould wgg}s he
stringelydlsllmttar. The General. ad ,
a new Plan of National Defebee'+.. le
wife descanted on the Horrors of War.
In Wlintinizton, they thusjointly-took
up lu 2 .evenkug in. the Old Town !Hall,
appearing balers alarge audience, and
devoted' the proceeds to build the , burn
ticl.St. Andrews Churchi • • '
.' The General died ln 1849: Once more
&Time, his , widow, has. still .fought the
battle with unwearied energy. The
'fortune left'her hai been long since ex
handed. Thousands upon thousands
:of dollars have beef) advanced to be re
'paid when she gained her property. ; It
la perfectly safe to pay that the expen
ditures in this suit have reached: Into
millions.
So violent was the antagonism' to her
in New Orleans that her - life there has
been more than once endangered. Pis
tol shots have been directed at her, and
once& bullet .paesed through her bon
net.„
To day Hee. Gaines is doubiless the
wealthiest woman in America.' The
true value of the property adjudged to
her cannot be accurately estimated. It
embraces some of the most improved
portions of New Orleans, dwellings,.
stores, warehouses, public puddings.
A schedule filed In 1889, shows a por
lion of the Clark estate, as well as It
could then be estimated. It ran thus:
A rotten estate and land. inherited
from his uncle, Colonel Clerk 8200,000
Two cotton plantations devised to
him In 1812 by Mr. Wilkins, with
one hundred negroes on each of
them 200,000
Debts due from Wade Hampton for
Havana Pointsuger plantation 800 000
The Moison Rouge Grant 200,020
lyingurehect of Louis Bouligny,
n Washita ' 10,000
Sugar plantatitin on the Mississippi,
fifteen ranee above New Orleans.., 12,C00
Two cotton plantations on the Mis
sissippi, sixty miles above New
Orleans 10,000
Lands bought of W. Simpson, on the
Mississippi river, 80 miles above
Now Orleans 20,0;0
Lots in New Orleans, bought in 1812,
of Judge Point 80,000
A square bounded by Wavier stria,
In New Orleans, bought in 1818 80.000
Lands on Bayou reche 80,000
Lands on Bayou Lafourche 30,000
Lands on Aux de Plaquemine 10,000
Ten thousand acres of cotton land on
Bayou Bo3uf 503,000
Seven thousand acres of land on
Nezipique river 10,000
One hundred and ten thousand acre.
of land an Amitio and Conetie
rivers, and East Baton Rouge 1,000,000
Eighty thousand acres of cypress
swamp, near Guar% ita river 20,000
Three lots on Chattily road, three
miles from New Orleans
Debt duo from Chew & Reif to Mr,
Clark, at his death 100,000
List of debts duo to Mr. Clark, Iliad
by Chow and Reif 100,000
List of debts due to Mr. (Nark, filed
by Chew ct Rolf 08,000
Debts (mortgages) released and die
chargtd by Chow es Rolf 80,000
Total 16,008,000
For all thisproperty the counter.
claimants doubtless number thousands.
Minute legal investigations and sults at
law can alone ascertain them all.
Is it not, then, truly a " most remark
able " case? Can ingenious fiction
weave more curious texture of romance
than this story of real life?
Pending the question its heroine, at
the age of sixty•three, is a charm ing
and still beautiful woman whose years
seem not over forty. The incessant toll,
theinnumerabletrlale,theterriblestrain
upon brain, nerve, and muscle, have
been to her a fountain of youth, whose
fresh vitality may long give her enjoy•
ment of the fruits won In this lawsuit
of a lifetime.
Description of the Storm on the Bala
more and labia lialleand
A letter from Washington to the Cincin
nati Gazette gives the iollowing interesting
description of the recent storm on the Bal•
timore and Ohio Railroad:
It was Friday morning—five o'clock and
forty minutes—when the storm overtook
our train, which was the fast train duo at
Baltimore about 8 o'clock. We hats reach
ed Mount Airy, Md., and were about fifty
miles west from Baltimore. Two black
clouds, one from the east, the other from
the west, met just over our heads, and in
an instant, quick as thought, a deluge fell
upon us. It did not rain—it poured in sol
Id volume, as if a lake had fallen, in mass,
upon us. In three minutes the train ran
into the mud which had washed upon the
track, and we were completely anchored.
This proved our salvation, for the flood
could not sweep us off.
The Patapsco was on our right—a small
stream then, which a man could easily leap
across. A high range of hills or mountains
rose up at our left. The river lay perhaps
twenty feet below us. Soon the track was
completely submerged in water. The
floods poured in torrents from the moun
tain, rushing wildly beneath us, and threat
ening in its frenzy to lean through the win
dows and carry us down into the swollen
stream. Such terrific thunder I never be
fore heard—one peal after another, at inter
vals of only a few seconds. The whole
mountain side, and all the face of the waste
water were ablaze with lightning. Trees
and telegraph poles were shattered to pieces
near us 196 the electric current. The river
had now expanded into a stream a mile or
more in width. Houses, barns, hay stacks.
logs and cattle were seen floating down the
river. The river had now;risen to the edge of
the track upon which our train stood. Each
moment we expected to bo swept down by
the fierce deluge that rushed down upon
the track from the steep aide of the moun
tain. Escape seemed impossible. No liv
ing thing could stem the flood that came
down the mountain. To leave the car was
but to rush to a watery grave. This all
happened in less time than it takes me to
write it. But as if each wild, unharnessed
element of nature had vied with the other
in their fierce war upon us, the hail was
added to the lightning, thunder and rain.
Hail showered down upon the car as
thickly as it could fall, and in blocks of two
or three inches in diameter. As the nuggets
of ice fell upon the roof of the car, they
made a sharp, startling noise like the sound
of musketry near at hand. One could not
liken the terrifying roar of the elements
now to anything but the noise of battle,
with deafening thunders for artillery, and
the rapid reports of the falling ice for the
rattle of musketry. It was now six o'clock.
The passengers in the sleeping car had been
aroused by. the storm, and the conductor
rushed in and shouted, " For God's sake,
ladies and gentlemen, leave the car and go
forward, or you will be swept into the
river." In a moment all rushed pellomell
to the forward car, which bad run off the
track into deep mud, and was anchored
fast. Soa.e of the ladles wore en diehabilie,
for the night had been very hot, and many
of the gentlemen wore only half dressed.—
But now, was no time for ceremony. In,
the face of death few care to make a toilet.
Soon all the passengers, about Sixty, were
in one car together.
The hail was shattering the window glass
to' places. Almost all the glass on boils
sides of the cars and in the doors at each
end wore broken, for we wore in a whirl
wind, and the rain dashed in upon Us.
Mon turned pale, ladles and children cried
with terror. It was a pitiful scene, but we
were belplea% we were powerless, and the
'elements had us in their strong arms. But,
thank God, He who rules the armies of
Heaven, bad each raging elements In His
mighty and merciful hand.
The scene was now one of unsurpassed
sublimity. The torrents leaping over the
tops of trees, and the red and blue streaks
of lightning robing them in garments of
.resplendent fire, the rush of the waters
beneath us madly plunging to the river, the
roar of the. thunder and rattle of the hail
forming together a scene of terror and sub
limity beyond all the powers or the wildest
imagination.
For an Your and ten minutes the great
lumps of ice continued to drop. Water still
descended in a flood. Now other troths
were due; going east, on the same track we
were on. Who would go out to put up the
red signal? No man was strong enough to
successfully wade back across the mountain
torrents, and even if he could do that the
hail would have killed him. But the trains
had all been stopped.
In trying , to desoribe this terrible torna
do, I feel that I have ~]ready wearied. the
reader. It is - impossible to convey a fall
and correct idea Of it. Eight hours did it
thus storm upon, us. No element relaxed
its fearful warfare except the hail, which
quit at'ten minutes past J3even. At about
two .dclock this storm, of such unprece
dented duration and fnry, ceased. We were
still all safe in the car." The water was three
'or fottr feet•deep upon the track and the
edge of the river was really flowing under
the. car. Boon the waters subsided, and
once 'more we stood upon the earth. Now
we ''could • see the. effects of the deluge
around us. ::A. cow. and .a calf lay dead near
the. train,' shattered to pieces with, hall.
Small animals lay thickly around,' dead
upon the ground. Fields of corn and oats
were swept.off clean, and not a blade left
upon them. , 'Soon we were dug out of. the
mud, two enilnes hitched to the train,. and,
we were drawn - twci miles back toMount
The annual:. statement of the Postottice
Department for the fiscal year ending 80th
„Inn% will it its stated, show a large deficit.
In 1866, it will be remembered, there was
a surplus of $969,430. In. 1866. there WAB
deficit, the first for several years, of $565,•
'099; In 1887 thiedefiaiency ammo ted t013,-
998,455. In 1888 It , wilt prove to be in round round
numbers about $8,000;090. Thl*.inatia/ 1 9,
increased deficit is owing to several genies:
Among them are' the restioratioh of mad
service on Southern routes and the subsi
dies for oceanic mall service.
SITMOUII
TO: Tan :'
DEINOCIIATIV NATIONAL COMMITTILY
He Cordially Approve; Me Platform
'TR E RUMP *NOW URM4B.4D
tie Nehmen. to Deprive the P4plie of
the Right to Vote tor Pfeillden.,
-tied Electors!
?hederangement' of Business Resulting
''from'the Radical Polley!
Thar, Attempta n tr u lg2ipp Dhieord and
THEIR ODPIRDISSION OF LABOR LED
INDINIVRT,
The duccess.of the Demicracy the Only
• Holm of the Country.
• • •• • • UTICA, Aug. 4, 1868.
Gent/entexe—When in the city of New
York, on the 11th of July, in the presence
of a vast Multitude, on b ehalf of the Na
tional Demooratia Convention, you tender
lid to me its unanimous nomination as their
Medidate for the office of President of the
United States, I stated I bad no words 'ad
equate to express my gratitude for the good
will and kindness Which that body had
shown to me. Ito nomination wee unsought
and unexpected. •It was my ambition to
take en active part, from which I am now
excluded, in the great struggle going on for
the restoration of good government, of
peace and prosperity to our country. But
I have been caught up by, the wbelmiug
tide which is bearing us on to a groat po
litical change, and I find myself unable to
resist its pressure. You have also given
me a copy of the resolutions put forth by
the Convention, showing its position upon
all the great questions which now agitate
the country. As the presiding officer of
that Convention, I am familiar with their
scope and import ; as one of its members I
am a party to their terms. They are in ac
cord with my views, and I stand upon
them.in the contest upon which we are now
entering, and I shall strive to carry them
out in future, wherever I may be pieced, in
political or private life.'
I then stated that I would send you these
words of acceptance in a letter, as is the
customary form. I see no reason upon re
flection to change or qualify the terms of my
approval of the resolutions of the Conven
tion.
I have delayed the mere formal act of
communicating to you in writing what I
thus publicly said, fur the purpose of see
ing what light the action of Congress would
throw upon the interests of the country. Its
sots since the adjournment of the Conven
tion show an alarm lest n change of pond
aal power will give to the people what they
ought to have—a clear statement of what
has been done with the money drawn from
them during the past eight years. Thought
ful mon feel that there have boon wrongs
in the financial management which have
boon kept from the public knowledge. The
Congressional party has not only allied it
self with military power, which is to be
brought to boar directly upon the elections
in many States, but it also holds itself in
perpetual session, with the avowed purpose
of making such laws as It shall sou lit, in
view of the elections which will take place
within a few weeks. It did not therefore
adjourn, but took a recess, to meet again if
its partizan Interests obeli demand Its roes
sembling. Never before in the history of
our country has Congress thus taken a
menacing attltudetowards itselectors. Un
der its influence, some of the States organ
ized by its agents are proposing to deprive
the people of the right to vote for Presiden
tial electors, and the r first bold steps are
taken to destroy the rights of suffrage. It
le not strange, therefore, that thoughtful
men see in such action the proof that there
is with those who shape the policy of the
Republican party, motives stronger and
deeper than the mere wish to hold political
power; that there is a dread of some expos
ure which drives them on to acts so desper
ate and impolitic.
Many of the ablest leaders and journals
of the Republican party have openly de
plored the violence of Congressional action
and its tendency to keep up discord in our
country. The great interests of our Union
demand peace, order, and a return to those
Industrial pursuits without which wo can
not maintain the faith or honor of our Gov
ernment. The minds of business men are
perplexed by uncertainties, The hours of
toil of our laborers aro lengthened by the
costs of living made by the direct and indi
rect exactions of government. Our people
are harraseed by the heavy and frequent
demands of the tax-gatherer. Without dis
tinction of party there is a strong feeling in
favor of that line of action which shall re
store order and confidence, and shall lift off
the burdens which now hinder and vex the
industry of the country. Yet at this mo
ment those in power have thrown into the
Senate•chamber and Congressional Hall
new elements of discord and violence. Men
have been admitted as representatives of
some of the Southern States, with the des
laration upon their lips that they cannot
live in the States they claim to represent,
without military protection. These
men are to make laws for the
North as well as the South. These men,
who, a few days since, wore seeking as
suppliants that Congress would give them
power within their respective States, are
to-day the masters and controllers of the
actions of those bodies. Entering them
with minds filled with passions, their first
demands have been that Congress shall
look upon the States from which they
come as in conditionsof civil war; that the
majority of their populations, embracing
their intelligence, shall be treated as public
enemies ; that military forces shall be kept
up at the cost of the people of the North,
and that there shall be no peace and order
at the South save that which is made by ar
bitrary power. Every intelligent man
knows that these men owe their seats in
Congress to the disorder in the South;
every man knows that they not only owe
their present positions to disorder, but that
every motive springing from the love of
power, of gain, of a desire for vengeance,
prompts them to keep the South in
anarchy. While that exists, they are in
dependent of the - wills or wishes of their
fellow-citizens. While confusion reigns,
they are the dispensers of the profits and
the honors which grow out of a govern
ment of 'mere force. These men are now
placed in positions where they cannot urge
their views of policy, but where they can
enforce them. When others shall be ad
mitted in this manner from the remaining
Southern States, although they will have
in truth, no constituents, they will have
more pewee in the Senate than a majority
of the people of this Union living in nine
of the great States. In vain the wisest
members of the Republican party protest
ed against tho policy that led to this result.
While the chiefs of the late rebellion have
submitted to the results of the war, and are
now quietly engaged in useful pursuits for
the support of themselves and their fami
lies, and are trying by the force of their
example to load hack the people of the
South to the order and industry, not only
esaential to their well being, but to the
greatness and prosperity of our common
.country, we see that. those who, without
'ability or influence, have been thrown by
the agitations of civil convulsion into post
Lions of honor and, profit, aro striving to
keep alive the passions to which they owe
their elevation. And they clamorously in
sist that they are the only friends of our
U n on a Union that can only , have a sure
'foundation in fraternal regard and a com
mon desire to promote the peace, the order
and the happiness of all sections of our
laud.
Events in Congress since the adjourn
ment of the • Convention have vastly in
creased the importance of a political vic
tory by those who are seeking to bring back
economy, simplicity and justice in the ad
ministration of our nationalaffairs. Many
Republicans have heretofore clung to their
party who have regretted the extremes of
violence to which it hoe run. They have
cherished a faith that while the action of
Their political friends has been mistaken,
their motive have been good. They must
now sea that the Republican party lain that
condition that it cannot carry outa wise and
peaceful policy, whatever its motives may
May be. It is a misfortune, not only to a
country, but to a governing party itself,
when its action is unchecked by any form
of opposition. It has been the misfortune
of the Republican party that the events of
the past few years have given it so mulch
power that it has been able to shackle the
executive, to trammel the judiciary, and to
carry out views of the most unwise and
violent of its members: When this State
of things exists many piny, it has ever
been found that the sober judgments of its
ablest leaders de not control. There is
hardly an able man who helped to build up
the Republican organteatton who has not
within the past three years warned it
against its exceases, who has not been
borne down and forced to give op his con
victions of what the interests of the country
called for; or, it too, patriotic _to do this,
.NWI' has not been driven from its ranks. If
this has been the case heretofore what will
'be its action now with this new infusion of
mei? who, without a decent respect for the
views of those Whci had just given them
their positions, being their legislative career,
with calls for arms, with - demands that
their; States ehall be regarded lain a condi:
tion of civil wai,• and with a declaration
that they are ready. and anxious to degrade
the President o,tfaio, United States when
ever theY can 'persuade or foice Cangrers
to bringforward lent artielett'ef itapeach.
mart?. •. • • • ;
• The Republican iaaxty, as well as we, are,
interested 1n puttinitaome Check opon this
violence: It must be clear to every think ,
log matt that a division of . political • power
tends to, check the, violence of party action
and to asitnre the Piece and"good order of
society,' eTection Of a Democratic ex
ecutive and a majority of.the members - to
the,gonse,o4 fiepresentatives would pot
give tethat party cati: talzation the power to
mad InSiden - "Of violent 'Oluniges, bat' it
would serve to cheek those extreme mesa
unswbich have been deplored by-the beat
NUMBER 32
men of both political organizations. The
result would moat certainly load to that
peaoeful restoration of the Vulon and rwes
iabllsbment, bf fraternal friendship which
them:looy desires. I am sure that globoid
men dale Republican, party deplore as
deeply as I do the opirit of violence shown
by tboso recently admitted to seats In Con.
grew; from the South, The.Pcbdition of oly.
0 war which they oontempAto bibs'be üb•
•horrent to every right thleiting
I have no mere personal wishes which
Mislead myjudgment in regard to the
pending election. No man who has weigh.
ed and measured the duties of the of of
President of the United States, can fall to
be impressed with the °area and tolls ofhiln
who is to meet ha demands. It ls not mere
ly to Lloat with popular currents, without a
polio) , or a purpose. On the contrary, while
our Constitution 'gives Just weight to the
' public will, its distinguishing feature is that
it, ,seeks to protect the rights of minorities.
Its greatest glory Is that it puts restraints
upon power. It gives Airco and ibrm to
those maxims and principles of civil libur
ty for which the martyrs et freedom have
struggled through ages. It declares Ole
right of the people "to ho secure in their
persons, houses and papers, against unrea•
seeable searches and seizures. That Con
gress shall make no law respecting un es
tablishment of religion or tho free exorcise
thereof, or abriding the freedom of speech
or of the press, or the right of the people to
petition fot redress of grievances. It se
cures the right of a speedy and public trial
by an impartial Jury.
No man can rightfully enter upon the
duties of the Pruaid, mist Oleo, unless he
Is not only willing to carry out the wishes
of the people expressed in a constitutional
way, but is also prepared to stand up fur
the rights of minorities. lie must boreudy
to uphold the free exorcise of religion, lie
must denounce measures which would
wrong personal or home rights, or the reli
gious oausclunce of the humblest citizen of
the land. Ho must maintain, without dis
tinction of creed or nationality, all the pri
vileges of American citizenship.
The experience of every public man who
has been faithful to his trust touches him
that no one can do the duties of the office
of President unless he is ready not only to
undergo the falsehoods and abuse of the
had, but to suffer from the censure of
the good who aro misled by preju
dices and misrepresentations. There are
no attractions in ouch position'', which de
ceive my Judgment, when I say that a great
change is going ou in the public mind. The
muss of the Republican party aro more
thoughtful, temperate and Just than they
were during the war. As the energy of the
Democratic party springs from their devo
tion to their cause anti not to their candi
dates, I may with propriety speak of the
fact that never in the political history of our
country has the action of any like body
been hailed with such universal and wide
spread enthusiasm as that which has been
shown in relation to the position of the
National Democratic Convention. With
this the candidates had nothing to do. I-tad
any others of those named buou voluted,
this spirit would ham been perhaps more
marked. The zoul and energy of the con
servative masses spring from a desire to
incite a change of political policy, and from
the confidence that they can carry out their
purpose.:
In this faith they are strengthened by the
co-operation of the groat body of those who
served In the Union artny and navy during
the war. Having given nearly sixteen
thousand commissions to the officers of that
army, I know their views and wishes.
They demand the Union for which they
fought. Tholargest mootingof these gallant
soldiers which ever assembled was held in
Now York, and endorsed the action of the
National Convention. In words instinct
with meaning, they called upon the Gov
ernment to stop in its policy of hate, dis
cord and disunion, and in terms of fervid
eloquence they demand the restoration of
the rights and liberties of the American peo
ple.
When there is such accord between those
who proved themselves bravo and Self
sacrificing in war, and those who are
thoughtful and patriotic in council, I cannot
doubt wo shall gain a political triumph
which will restore our Union, bring buck
peace and prosperity to our land, and will
give us once more the blessing of a wise,
economical and honest government.
I am gentlemen, truly yours dm.,
HORATIO SEYMOUR.
To Gen. G. W. Morgan, cud others, Com
mittee. tc., &e.
News Items.
Civilization has reached Sitka to the ehapo
of corner apple-stands.
The King of the Sandwich Islands re
ceives $45,000 salary.
The total receipts of wheat In St. Louis
last week were 111,089 bushels.
Fish in Rook river, Wis., have been sun
struck by millions.
Long . Branch has over 6,000 visitors, and
2,000 of them living in cottages.
The tires In the Canada woods this season
have destroyed $4,000,000 worth of lumber.
There is one house In the seventh ward of
Boston which contains twenty-nine familes.
The three leading illustrated papers of
Paris are bankrupt.
Jerome B. Fellows Intends to present Na
poleon the fastest four-in-band in the world.
A Frenchman has invented a vehicle In
which the "cart actually goes before the
horse."
Commodore Vanderbilt has followed the
rest of the notables and gone West with his
family.
Five hundred and thirty-four building
permits were issued in Philadelphia last
month.
There is now an nnprecedentad crowd of
visitors all through the White Mountain
region.
Miss Phebo Maria the second daughter
of Bishop Potter, died in Now York on
Monday.
Little Japanese "All Right" has boon
.erfbrming in Madrid, and exhibited be
'ore Queen Isabella.
Mr. Vallaudigham is announced as a
candidate for the democratic nomination for
Congress in the third district of Ohio.
The Florida Legislature has passed a bill
authorizing the Governor to appoint a secret
police throughout the State.
The health of Hon. Thaddeus Stevens is
improved, and be expects to leave Nash•
Ington for his home, in a few days.
J, H. Jenkins & Co., dry goods dealers at
Worcester, Mass. failed on Tuesday. Their
liabilities are estimated at over 550,000.
There were 386 deaths In Philadelphia
last week—a decrease of 166 from the week
pz eceeding.
There are 1,355 saloons for the sale of li
quor In Chicago, 81 hotels and 040 boarding
houses.
A youngster In New York, playing with
percussion caps, pnt some of them in his
mouth, which exploded, blowing out the
left side of his cheek.
A gang of burglars In Elmira wheeled a
sofa nut of a warehouse and through a
crowd the other day civilly answering all
questions and escaping &Motion.
Tho United States government has order
ed the now fort opposite Fort Delaware to
ho dimmantied and the ground to be mold at
auction.
Tho Imports of tho - Unlted States for the
year ranting June 80, amounted t05371,070,-
411, against $411,731,104 for the previous
year.
A paymaster of the regular army, who
has been in the service twenty years, says
every thousand men costs now ono million
and a half per annum.
The ()Hinge crop in Floridais unusually
promising, and has been generally engaged
at twenty dollars a thousand. Other tropi
cal traits are growing finely.
The steamship Australasian, which sailed
fmm Now York yesterday, took ont $1,000,-
000 In specie, ths first instalment of the
Alaska purchase money,
Philadelphians complain that they have
to pay seventy-five cents per pound for but
ter, and extravagant prices for almost every
article brought to market by farmers.
The names of Dickens's children are
Mary, KateXharles, Walter Landor, Fran
cis Geoffrey, Alfred Tennyson, Sidney
Smith, Henry Fielding, and Edward Lyt
ton Bulver. •
John Minor Botta, of Virginia, arrived in
New York eft yr , from Shaton Springs, on
Saturday , . His health, which has not been
very good for some time past, is somewhat
improved.
The New York Evening mail says that
lawyer In that city has made over a million'
dollars in two years, simply by
. assistlng
merchants and others in evading govern.
went taxes, penalties, dcc.
A fellow, on a bet of $lOO, 'eat five hun
dred oysters and drank_ three_ pint bottles.
of ale in twenty•six minutes, winning the
bet by four minutes, in the Gallforniarnar
ket, San Francisco, on the 10th Instant.
It is said that the earnings ofthe Western
railroad)] continue to be largely In. preen of
last year, and with at least,twenty percent,
larger crops to be moved this year, their,
prospects for dividends are yery encotira7
A train on the
,Columbus; Chicago and
Indiana Central railroad 'recently, ran 188
miles in 4 hours and' 12 ininutea;• which is
equivalent , to'4s Jrtilles; per libur: This is
the fastest time ever made on 'a 'Western
road. • ' ' '
The: propertion•of officers M men is, in
the !•Britleit army,' oue Miaow to , twenty
eight ,men ; French army, ona officer to
thirty-three. men ; Anairien,arMY„ one al.
Per to forty; men ; Prdealan army, one
cer to forty•iiine men. . .
.
A, Paris eccentric advartiseci that he' WWI
gouty, of a, violent' temper,, and terribly,
quarrelsome,betthat be;wpitld settle ;24,-
KO a year on a yoting arui'Muuleome !wife.
He received fortY•att'atlilicetiorui and 'hi
now married,
In Michigan, rooently, abirty-five men
went into arreat tieldtoctitgrain. About
. , RATA OW ADIFXII . 2IIIIII747‘=:' " "
. . 1 * - tatiorgusitOr
BAAL DOWN OrrosniorilMatior
we 01111; and 6 anti roe MIMI f ' In.
Ilelf WM
0 ICIMAL Ai INILIMIIIIirG 7 ixitthi SI lila for the
f at 11134 4PtI l f,fr 411 ° 11 ) I P . ,?S t r, Hr .
iry ; wei
Eiplagaz ti, l i onc . 'DI - Lot s. (Wiwi
s T )
PPM ' difelll '
B
uOlll4, CCM ' U n traolt
AU 10 Ogg ay I puellon. dl
»..
iLtAirrankmai. : * %3 1
„ I , •
, asp , A0t1t55.,.....4,.. 4 4...
til
lig e1 ne?«......., • -
or Alt i rkirfinsw .
....i............. •.4............,
10 A, M. not less than sixteen of them bad
bean sumateleken, the majority of wham
died under the exposure, Much an Wotance
of wholesale oasuality has hardly &parallel
21 the blatotY or - 4 121 p9uP47.1 !., t,
It is said that one of Churoh'sllo,ooo plo.
tures is the property of a dealer In' varnish
et, in New York. city, and .tklit,floalt Itoo
bur's"Horse Fair," valued at 120,000, le,
owned by a cotton broker. The SUM eve
uuo contains statuary pad paintings valuod
et 11,000,000. „
The shoo business , at Havetbill, Muss.
chusotts, bas revivedyduring the month,
and is now very native indeed. Every
men is employed, and tho price of work him
advanced twenty per cont. Some mann-
Winters refuse to fake orders at all, fear
ing a still further advance In price of stock
and labor. • ' •
Sunstroke, according to Oon. Napier,
must be a rather pleasant way out of the
world. The general tried it In Solndo onto,
and wroto of It to his daughter as follows:
"The sunstroke wits a stuggoror ; yet my
hope is to dlo by ono, for never. can death
couto in an castor shape. I was just dead
ly sleepy; it was deadly bad I been lett
alone; but the only feeling of the transition
would have been a tiredness like that 0.-
porlonced at being suddenly waked, be
fore tlu,e. This was to a degree almost to
bo called painful; then came a pleasant
drowsiness, with anger that the , doctor!'
would not let nio sleep. Were it not-for
others, would that my horn bud Hounded ;
so easy, so I may say, NM tho
approach of death."
Attempt to Lynch a Colorer* Denieeratte
speaker to Sow Orleans:
NEW. OIMEIANB, Monday, Aug. J.-A no
gro:natned Will Robbins has been making
Democratic spocchen to novena in this city
for a week past. Several attempts. hay ,
been made upon his life. On Saturday
eight a crowd followed him for several
squares and tried to drag him from a street
cur in which ho took refuge. Ho was then
arrested on a charge of Malting a riot, and
released on ball, Yesterday another attauk
with slung shots was mudo upon him, This
morning on appearing before tho Recorder
it was found that the original charge of M
oiling a riot had been dropped, and the
charge of carrying concealed weapons sub
stituted ; but ho was discharged by Mb Re-
corder. On being released Robbins' life
was again threatened by a crowd of negro°,
but he was escorted by his friends to the
rooms of tho Constitution Club oh Canal
street. The streets in the neighborhood
noon filled with a urowdand thoexeltoment
increased. Cloy. Weymouth appeared and
made a short but effective Speech, telling
the negroos they should:rather protect Rob•
bins in the public expression of his opin
ion than seek to deprive him of that right.
Ile advised the crowd to disponi* and go
home, which they did.
wtottiteo Nittero.
TILL OUOURGE OF OUA ALL
WHEN digoetion is bad every part of the Int•
man eyetem )4cosearily sutlers. The entire
etruoturo of the body becomes artbatod, ovenc
the mind itself, showing the of of it in the ,
low spirits of the patient. Indigeation l the
parent of a thousand indezeribablo miseries,,
and prepares a foundation for disorders that
cannot be easily shaken off. The promonii.
tory symptoms of Dyspepsia aro knowf♦(to
every parson. It Is apiseaso that huiteneltself
alike upon the old and young, and both fall
victims to its destroying power when the prop.
or remedy Is neglected or rejected. It Is for
this reason that thousands endure a living
death as the natural penalty of delay, It is a
fearful thing to become a confirmed Dyspeptic.
Those who have suffered the pangs of this
scourge of the human race do not need to be
told that it is an ailment which interferes with
all the mkt syments of this life,sproading gloom
and despondency over the mind and steadily
wearing out the vital principle of life !WIG—
And other complaints such as 131lIonaneas,
General Debility, Mammas of the Bowels;
Stomach, Liver and Kidneys frequently result
from It and often terminate fatally. What the
Dyspeptic requires is a constitutional sbeinflo,
and such la
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and rise the
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The public Is made acquainted with all the
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the highest medical authorities aro dailyre-*
commending It as an infallible remedy for all
diseases arising from a disordered stomach.—
Be reasonable with yourself—consult your
health and happiness—throw away your plans
rnacopada prescriptions and take a course of .
MISHLER'S HERB BITTERS.
This remedy will also cure effectually Liver.,,
Complaint, Kidney Diseases, Chronic!lcor I.ter.
vans Debility, Constipation or the Bolinis,
Nausea, Difficult Breathing, Sour Ernotatlons„
Pains in the Side, Back, Chest and Llmbe, De
pression of ;Spirits, and all others pusenia '
growing out of a Disordered Stomach, Liver or s
Kidneys, and will thoroughly purify the blood
and maintain It against the Ineldloua attacks
of disease, An
AVALANCHE OP CERTIFICA.TES.
Is constantly pouring In upon tho Proprietors .
In support of the high claims of this molt
wonderful remedy of the present age, All
classes and conditions of the people—old and
young—married and 'lngle—the Infant child
and the grand father of the family, by ties Mis t "
of this
GREAT HOUSEHOLD REMEDY.
are made strong, and their digestive organs
kept in • sound, healthy condition, sad: tie..l
Blood preserved pure, as God intended' Lt
should be. : ' :
CAUTION!!!
MISHLER'S HERB BITTgRB
are counterfeited. Against the *tortilla's Sid
.dangeroae imitations put into the market by
unprincipled parties the proprietors et Miele.
ler'a Herb Bitten; hereby warn the pubile.—
See that the patented external marks of this
Bitters accompany each bottle.] • • •.
MISHLEWS HERB BITTERS
are exclusively put up In :guars gkw bottles
with graduated awes markedtherean c Onone
panel are the words: f .
"MISHLER'S HERB BITTERS,"
and on the oppoalte panel the dim name;
S. B. lIARTMAN tit CO
A Proprietary U. t 9. Internal
Stamp covers the cork of every,
.hottle.
• See to a that this stamp is over the
. : 'cork of the bottle you buy, 1•i:: •.1
It. will be recognized by the portrait it
B. 13 H E R
SOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS AND RESPTX7Des
ABLE STORRIr &EPEES,
every-vtallgo, town and city •tnitho Gutted,
, State*, Canada,atm, ha
tk: .00., ••
SOLE PROPRIETORS,; . i
LANOAS'TER AND prriiilanxnx,'-''' •
Ji 91 PEEINITLYAXIA. lAA/