<5 Ik gattfJUJttr fJuWttomer,
PUBIiISHXD EVERY WEDNESDAY BT
11. G. SMITH 4 CO
A. J. Stein man.
11. G. Surra.
TERMS— Two Dollars por ananm, payable
In all cases In advance.
Tub Lancasteb Daily ®IntkIjLIGENGIeb Is
Dabllßhed evory evening, Sunday excepted, at
5 per Annum lu advance.
)FFldE —Southwest corner or Cksts*
UABB.
For the Intelligencer.
“ LAGER BltlT.
A I’AUODY ON “ TIIE RAV£N
Once, upon an evening dreary,
As 1 wandered, sad aud weary,
Tlirougb the Btrcets, In search of *omo:hluj
To amuse my eye or q*t—
Suddenly I heard a lupp'rg,
As of some uuo rudely rapping—
Happing that so strangely Handed
That,my bosom (limited wlih fear—
Every nerve was thi llied within mo,
And my bud.\ shook with f-.ur.
Hilout stood I gozlng—wondering
Whoncocould couio ihtHu ihMiilng.tliuudcrlug
Thumping raps, Him raps 01 Nplrim
Loosened from Mj nedher i-pheic
Till, by charm •, my eyon upraising
Toagdrt-Jol dimly blazing
Through a cuiloua canvas cnrluln,
Curtaining a window ueur,
I beheld m let'em m> Kile
This strung'! 1> send : “ L.witcii llii r."
Thereupon my hc-ui t grow siro igor—
Heslluliug l hen no l<mg > .*r,
Through inoduorl mni'ghlway ruined
Htillmg eucli uj r.slng P in
And 1 houru the dut si. gabble
Uttered since t he days ui Buhel :
ilut the only phrase i.r uutmeu
Mounding eh arly on my ear
Was the cju uut and curious legend
4 On the e >n v, *• I,agini l’.li-.'it."
Onabonch my.-tlf I seated,
Hut before I imi < oiui-lelt d
Half my stuvey of the moth v
Mingled ihr-.ng asveMiib.cd heie,
Suddenly there iUoc<l i cion; me
A Teuton uml lie i-o e me
On u iray a sailed pr. tz •!,
Hhtip.-d In form and fash'ou 'i ■< ( r
Flared ahrlid in l gg isi.cfun* m<>
Merely suy ing •• L<w;:ck IMbu."
Not the least obcl'-aii'-e made he
.Nut H Slug Il.OoU'ltl hi’l(l lII'-
Quickly os he had approacucd u <•
Quickly did he dnupp:*ar
Midst the muz h oi me many
Moil assembled there— not a 1
Uno (jf whom Uppeareil to nul'n'.i
Thai myntdi was silting no
Wondering wny, unasked, tho Teuton
Uro.iglil rue luus the •' h.\(i .-:k Hi i.k,
* Hunt n:tl I k< m In.'/.: iu
livery l>ul)!ilo t iu*L %. .in i
Cream-lilic, !■> Hie lonmir -J mi id .1
UI I lie I.< ji’>r—ll m.ei clm -
Long I looked with i-. Imuoitioj,
Ami in. length, wi;h *i• itlulioit,
To my lip-. Lhe gl-isi hi .1,
And I Nipped Hi • nui-Prow,: . ..
Hipped at llr.it wil l) l«-»ir nn.i riu.t:nii- ,
Ttieu gulped down Hie *• Ij.hjicu IHi:
Through my veins i:m rircnliiUui
Of the bloo 1, ut, each j->nls:ilhm
Of my b<;iU:ng heart, was Uurrie l
tiwllter on Uh wild career ;
And my Houses all Huemed qule ; r
Ah I drank tho magifi liquor—
Thoughts of line poetic laucy
Killed my mind wit h genial ch-.-er,
As again the gdint. Tent *n
Killed my glass w.lli “ I.au*.k L'if::
Boon th" second glass I mi allow, d
And ft third as quickly f.cluued—
And {mother—and aim hei
Till my head h.gui lo ve -r;
Thou my mannei grow m< re g-uelouv
LeisH reserved, and more i'/qiia;:iou«—
Aud my thoughts in uv phlm-upoii'
More Ideal—brll 1 ml—cleat
Hugely 1 discoursed c>( I turn
Boienco, art aid " L.\<; *ii Hi kk."
Boon Kurrounditig scenes forsook in
Homnolency o.a i c nolc me
in u stupor s< pm me
Kuarrd la !• airy sphere 1
And behold a vivid visu-u
Autotype of blest K ysl m
Whero were mingled Mtli .vd M us
Wisdom V/il, Mid .V m lie ,r !
ller.uty, Vouih, and noble
Krlondshlp, Love and urncu hucb.
Palaces unique and ahy,
Fit for home ol Fay or Fairy,
Reared Ihclr domes and timed coluinus
Upward through the ether clear—
■ Save whero *• rare ami rosotilo shadows
Overspread the * mi-rahl meadowH—
Overspread the g oves and grottos
And tlio giinhiug fmiiitains near—
And the Temple of <1 inibiiint“,
Priest and Kiug <>f “ Laukr Bier.'
Bright-eyed nymphs, with golden tresses,
Lnvlulieil on m-* I nul raxesn s
Whirled mo In d.rltcio m whli/.'-b
Wnisperod warm worila in my ear—
LlspsJ of Love and L ivo’s emotion
Lovo’s delights, a-n| Love's devuliou
l.ovo, that oveillowi ihe bus.,m
Ah the loam of L-v.-er It.er-
Overtl >ws tho ei.v .* t.il goblet
Crow nel \> it ii fp riutng “ Laiier Bier.
Bliso is brief, and sorrow eetlain
Tourfully I draw the curtain
O’er Lenora'a ei uel led ui e
tirauug h islily on my : i
For my heavy biao is e
My rej eiyriim bt :r i.. g
Ab xny dear L- i. i a ie -.ures
» Hi Hi • II Li' !':• Hilt
Aml In 11 in :oni s il' m unci s
prualio uc.aHui.il * L.m ;eu Hi eh.
Ah ! s l l<' lelh me—from thu gutter
J wi'.a drugged !-atnl on n ehuuer
Cnirm i hi,nit* by lour policemen!
Camt'il I, ire’n.i'J gibe ami jeer !
Tells me bow hci p h.l whs buninled
AS 1 fumbled, muiisbl- sjrillilii.e.l,
HlUinbled. and at ho gill w.is tumbled
i\> > he ll tor \vi:li m >eUn.g sneer.
Where all night with mores somuous
I luy drnult wlih "Luikk Uikr'
And Leu orantlll la sluing—
Kver prukeut—never Iholng—
Kver tftUnllng and bn me tiling
My i-ad lie.u t wil h lieurUesK sue r
And In petulant splcnei ch
Urges pibgch hi d cm. in>
Urges uau.seou-’ diuieiics
To dlHpd the i.fto.-r Micr
Ull'ern oils, and | 1 1 Is, ui ui powdc i s
To dispel 1 he “ l. vur.it lb kk.’
Bliss Is brief, and .vi row e i lain !
Come, Lononi, clo-e the < wrtalu—-
Bar tho door amt shut . ho shutters,
Lest the world your word-; may hear
Let me hope that by u.e m-.rrow,
Penitential, I may borrow,
From your Kinlies .sureeus-e of ,-oriow
pintles of love without u tear—
Pardon Lethe—and Nepenthe
From ihe paugs of •• Laokk Ukkii.
sltefcUanmt;s.
CnugiiL In Her own Trap.
Ellen Lamprey and Clara Edgerton
were walking slowly along a vine em-.
bowered path in Newport.’ The latter
was moody and thoughtful, while the
former was watchful of all that trans
pired about her. By and by a genlle
man entered the path not far iu ad
vance, and approached them. Klleu
saw bun ; but Clara did not.
“Here, —let us step into this arbor.
U! wlmt beautiful dowers. See!” Aud
thus speaking Ellen Lamprey rather
drugged than hd her companion iuto
the arbor.
The gent L-man passed, ami there was
a cloud upon his brow. iSoim-tliiug hail
evideutly wrought unpleasantly upon
his feelings. K.len marked the fuel,
aud au exuhaut exjjrcssi'jii lEsin-d up
into her fare. She had accomplished
her object.
The gentleman was Wallace Parker,
a young rnnu of good family, whose
father had reeeutly died intestate. The
elder Parker had once beeu wealthy ;
but a financial crash had swept away,
his fortune, atid hurried himself to the
grave. So Wallace had entered upon
the practice of the Law, aud was strug
gling hard to earn name and fame in
his own right. Weary ami faiut from
hard study he had come down to New
port to rest aud recuperate; but lie
could uot stay long, for he ha. I not the
means.
In happier days, when he had been
prospective heir to half a million, tie
had often met (Tara Edgerton, and had
learned to love her, though no words of
love had ever beeu spoken. In fact,
they had been almost tooyouug then to
seriously veuture upon such a topic
But they were older now. Wallace was
four-aud twenty, and Clara only live
years younger. And now they had met
again—he under the cloud of misfor
tune, while she held in her own right a
fortune greater than that which his
father had loßt.
Is it a wonder that a hundred men,
young and old, ‘paid especial court to
Clara Edgerton? Ami is it a wonder
that a man like Wallace Parker, should
have been backward iu® claiming her
especial notice?
Ellen Lamprey had no heart to love,
but she fancied Wallace Parker; she
had penetration enough to see that he
was a better man than were most of
those to whom the ladiesof fashion paid
court; and, furthermore, she saw the
possibilities lie would surmount, aud
could look forward to the bright career
that he was opening before him. .She
was a crafty girl, and calculating. She
could not hope to eulrap a wealthy lover
who was young aud handsome ; so she
meant to eutrap Wallace Parker, if she
could. She kuew that there had been
an intimacy between him aud Clara iu
the other times, and she could very
plainly see that their hearts yearned
toward each other still, however much
the young lawyer himself may have
been in the dark. Blie had a game to
play. She knew very well that Wallace
had come, out into the garden in the
hope of meeting Clara. She had not
only prevented the meeting, but she
had made It appear to the gentiemau
that the lady had purposely avoided
him.
"I declare!—there goes Wallace
Parker,—and he didii’teven giyeusthe
honor of a salute!" cried Ellen, after
the young man hud pulsed.
Clara started, and looked up, and
presently said, —
"He has no heart for anything but
hia profession."
"And ho will need to slick to his pro
fession njlorig time before he can resume
hia old stand in society," suggested
VMtxu
" It was all Clara an*
VOLUME 70
Rwered; and she was again thoughtful.
That evening Ellen Lamprey met
Wollaie Parker upon the verandah, and
he offered her hia arm. He could do no
leas, seeing that she had sought his
Ellen adroitly led the conversation
until It touched upon Clara Edgerton.
“By the way, Mr. Parker, I had al
ways thought that you and Miss Edger
ton were good friends.”
“ I trust wo are friends still,” return
ed the gentleman, in a low, hopeful
tone.
“I bad thought so,” resumed the
plotter, “until she avoided you to-day,
in the garden. And I should not have
thought so much of that if she bad not,
when we wero alone, spoken— But I
had better keep my own counsel.”
Walter Parker was humaD, aud he
wished to know what Clara Edgerton
had said of him. At length, with much
apparent reluctance, Ellen told him, —
“ She said you had no heart.”
“What! Bid Clara Edgerton say
that ?”
“ Yes. Aud she said you would have
to stick to your profession a long time
before you could regain the position you
had lost in society.”
“O ! I had not thought that of her !
But what else could J expect? Bali!
they are a cold aud heartless set!”
“ You do not mean that Miss Edger
ton is coltl and heartier ?”
"She is under the inlUffiiioe. She
must be, or she would not have spoilt »
those words.”
“Well, well,” said Ellen, with alight
laugh, “she is very soon to be under a
new influence. . She goes from here to
lie married to Mr. Hapgood.”
“To Giles Hapgood ?”
“Yes—the banker.”
“But he is old enough lo bo her
father !”
“Aud worth u million !” added Ellen
significantly. And new triumph was
in the sparkle of her eye wiien she saw
Wallace Purker’s lip curl with derision,
and saw scorn andconlempt in his every
feature.
During the forenoon of thafoliowing
day Ellen Lamprey observ%L Clara
Edgerton and Giles Hapgood, ofl&iu one
of the foot paths, walkiug very cosily,
arm-in-arm, and apparently engaged in
very earnest She hunted
up Wallace Parker, aud brought him
ou-t Into the balcony that ho might see
it. He did see it, and his look plainly
showed that he was unhappy; aud Ellen
Ijamprey fancied that lie looked to her
for sympathy—that his heart was warm
ing toward her as it shrank away from
love of Clara. She determined lo 10-e
no time.
During the afternoon of that same
day Ellen drew Clara out into the gar
den, aud after a light ruu of byplay she
carefully introduced thesubject of Wal
lace Parker.
“ He will not remain here much long
er,” she said : “aud for one I am glad
ol it. I cau endure almost anything
better than treachery.”
“ Treachery!— and on the part of
Wallace Parker?”
“ Yes.”
“What do you mean, Ellen?”
“Since it lias come to this, Clara, I
will speak plainly. I accepted Mr.
Parker's proffered arm upon the veran
dah last evening. We spoke of you. I
had supposed that you were on the most
friendly terms; but, judge of my sur
prise, when lie announced to me, in
direct and unqualified terms, that you
were cold anti heartless!”
“Did Wallace Parker say that?”—
The voice was startled and quiveriug.
“ Yes,—and I expostulated. But he
persisted. He said you were throwing
yourself away under the very worst of
infl tieuces.”
“O, Ellen, I cannot believe that Mr.
Parker spoke soberly.”
A brilliant idea struck the plotter.
She would make a hold move.
“ My dear Clara,’* slio »uid, “in order
that you may know exactly how he can
speak of you, suppose you iiear him for
yourself? If you will take your seat in
this arbor this evening, I will lead
Wallace Parker this way, and he shall
speak of you as he pleases in your hear
ing.”
At first Clara Edgerton refused to lis
ten to the proposition ; but after a time
she surrendered.' She did really wish
to know if Wallace Parker disliked her.
The blow would bea eruelone ; butshe
hud better know ths truth, even at the
worst. So Bhe finally said that she
would be in thearbor at nine o’clock.
Ellen Lamprey had no doubt of her
success. She had so far won upon Parker,
that he was ready at any time to wait
upon her at her bidding, aud she felt
sure, if she could lead him to the garden,
that she could draw from him hitter
words against Clara. But one of her
most potent weapons was to be wrench
ed from her without her knowledge.
That evening as Wallace Parker
sauntered upou the driveway after
tea, lie met tides Hapgood, and the
banker was muttering aud cursing to
himself.
“Eh! Hapgood' What on earth is
the matter? Stooks-down ? "
“Down Hat!" returned Hapgood,
rallying.
“ Have you lost heavily ? "
"I have lost heavily, aud for all time.”
“ I am sorry."
Presently the banker looked up with
a grim smile.
“ It isn'tmoney, Parker. O, no,—not
quite so bad as that. I fancied, this
afternoon, that I had lost my heart;
but I guess I shall fmd it again. You
can keep a secret ? "
“The secret of a friend is with me a
sacred trust."
“Then, my boy, I’ll tell you frank
ly,—Clara Edgerton has refused my
hand! "
“ Kefused you ? " ;
“ Aye,—and that isn't the worst of it.
When 1 asked lierwhyshehad allowed
me to husk iu the sunlight of her smiles,
she fell to weeping, ami begged of me
to forgive her. She suid she had sought
it at the bauds of a father! Egad! Lhiuk
of it! What a cut, eh ?"
“Butshe wu3 honest.”
“ So she was, my boy. She had clung
to me—taking shelter under my gray
hairs—so that she.mightescape the per
aecutiou of attention from the hundred
and-one fulsome flatterers that hovered
around her. This afternoon I could
have cursed her; hut now I can only
curse my own stupidity, while I have
come really to honor aud respect the
pure hearted girl who was willing to
place so much confidence in Giles llap
good. ’’
The approach of another party inter
rupted the conversation, and Wallace
shortly afterward returned to the house,
where Ellen Lamprey met him upon
the piazza. He would have avoided
her, but she took his arm, and claimed
him as her prisoner ; aud by aud by she
led him to the gardeu. Little dreamed
she, as she prepared for theattuck, what
he had heard within the hour.
When they had entered upon the
flower-flanked avenue Ellen spoke of
Clara Edgerton. She spoke at first
sympathiziugly aud lovingly,—then
pityiugly,—aud theu she gradually
verged upon the condemnatory.
The arbor was now not far distant,
and she must make the liual stroke.
This she did by speaking of Clara’s ap
proaching marriage with Mr. Hapgood,
at the same time adroitly working in a
repetition of the story she had before
told of the ladys harsh judgment of
himself.
The arbor was reached, and Eileu
stopped fer her companion’s reply. {She
felt sure it would be a bitter one.
Wallace Parker took her hand, aud
looked down into her face. He bad
heard her words ; but they had not so
much place in his mind as had other
words which he had thatevening heard
from the lips of Giles Hapgoed.
"Mias Lamprey," hesald, slowly,aud
almost sternly, "you aud I hud best
come to an understanding at once. I
am willing to believe that you are mis
taken. At all events, I will never be
lieve that Miss Edgerton could willingly
or iutentionally speak ill of me until I
can hear and judge for myself. When
you first told me what she had—"
“O ! Mr. Parker! In mercy’s name !"
But Mr. Parker did not heed the in
terruption.
"What Clara had said of me, I was
grieved; but I am sure you must have
misunderstood her.”
Ellen Lamprey trembled like an as
pen, and could not speak. Her compan
ion continued:
" Never, whilel can help it, the
bright vision of Clara Edgerton, as a
pure and blessed, spirit of light, be
wrested from me. As God is ray judge
I believe her to be incapable of deceit!
But, if she has faults, I do no wish to
know them* I took her image into my
soul years ago, and I wish to hold it :
there, enshrined in purity. Had not ,
dire misfortune come upon me I would
dare to go to her, and ask her if she de
spised me; but now—now —”
“ She can speak without the asking!”
sounded a voice from the arch of the
arbor. “0! Wallace—how blind you
have been I —how blind 1 And all these
years I have had no heart, no love, that
wa3 not yours!”
And Clara Edgerton, advancing from
the sheltering bower, gave her hand to
Wallace Parker, and rested her head
upon hla bosom ; while Ellen Lamprey,
almost bereft of sense, shrank away to
the house, her s:ep3 tottering and un
certain, like uuto the steps of one who
is drunk with much wine.
On the very next morning, without
her breakfast, Ellen Lamprey left New
port. She could not bear to witness the
happiness of tho pair she had sought to
put for ever asunder, nor did she care
to remain after the story of the ridicu
lous manner in which she had got
caught In her own trap should have
leaked out.
In the joyous event which legitimate
ly grow out from all this Giles Hapgood
did himself infinite credit aud honor.
He demanded and received the privi
lege of acting as groomsman at the
wedding.—A'. V. Ledger.
Treachery Seif.Punished.
I!V jriifSK (.'LAI!K
“ There have beeu a good many bur
glaries of late, Thomas,” said Mr.
Thornton, as he was about leaving the
bauk for the day, “and I have beeu
thinking it might be well if you re
maiued here of nights for the preseut—
especially us one of the entrance keys
Is missing, and may have gotten into
wrong bauds.”
“I have been thinking that same
myself, sir,” Thomasauswered. “ I can
lie on the lounge there, you see, in the
back office, quite comfortable like.”
“ Aud sleep through a dozen safe ex
plosions, mostJike.y, and never loj-l- a
snore.”
“Never fear, sir; ihe stirring of a
mouse wakes me.”
“ Well, take this revolver, then ; I
suppose you know how to use it?”
Thomas hoped ho did ; Imped he
hadn’t been four years iu the array
without learning Dial much.
And so v . Thomas was left ou guard,
aud the rich banker, who had outstay
ed all his clerks this evening, took his
departure.
Mr, Thornton was a widower, having
an only son, whom he had set his heart
ou marrying to a ward of his, a young
heiress, whoso fortune hail lost nothing
under his management, the fruits of
which lie would have been loth to see
reaped by a stranger.
But Mary Burton had a will, as well
as a heart of her own, and naturally
felt that the former was entitled to some
share in the disposal of the latter. She
esteemed Edward Thornton, but she
both loved and esteemed Lawrence
Ridgeley, aud that made a mighty dif
ference. As for the young men, they
were both her adorers, though Edward
knew bis suit was hopeless, and had
long ceased to press it. There was even
a warm friendship between himself aud
his rival. They had been classmates
and companions iu the days when Law
rence KitJgeley’s father was a prosperous
merchant, whose son was little likely
ever to bo under the necessity of earn
ing his bread, as he was now doing, iu
the position of a hard-worked clerk in
the banking house of Abel Thornton.
That gentleman, we have said, had
set his heart ou the marriageof hisson
to his ward, and lie was not slow in
discovering that Lawrence Kidgety wus
a serious impediment to his plans—an
impediment which he would have
gladly removed without being over
scrupulous as to the means, for lie was
a hard and cruel mau to those whom he
conceived to stand iu his way.
Before Lawrence Ridgely left the
boulc on the evening in question, he
received directions from Mr. Thornton
to meet the latter in his library, after
tea, to assist in the preparation of some
foreign correspondence to go out by
next days steamer.
The young clerk was on hand at the
appointed time. He wrote, at his em
ployer’s dictation, till a late hour, when
it became necessary to the further pro
gress of their work to consult some
papers, which Mr. Thornton remem
bered he had left on the desk iu his pri
vate room at the bank.
As there was no getting on without
the absent papers, Ridgeley offered to
go,aud bring them. Mr. Thornton ap
peared pleased with his promptness,
andapologized with unusual civility for
accepting the offer.
Lawrence at once set out on hia er
rand. He was waiting at a crossing for
the next when Edward
Thornton accosted him :
“Which way so late?”
“I am going to the bank,” said Law
rence, ‘for a package of papers which
your father wishes to consult to-night.”
“Ah ! that reminds me— I will save
you the trip with your permission. I
forgot a parcel there this afternoon
which I will need in the morning; so,
if you will tell me whero the papers are
to be found, I will do your errand aud
mine at the same time.”
“But I could bringyourparcel.”
“ You would never be able to find it,
or to know it if you did ; I’m tho worst
possible hand at descriptions and direc
tions. So give me the door-key, ami
tell me whore the papers are.”
“They are on your father’s desk,”
said Lawrence, handing him the key;
and just then a car was passing, which
Edward hailed and entered.
Nearly an hour would be required to
go to the bank and return, and Law
rence iufmitly preferred a stroll in the
bright moonlight to passing the time
in Mr. Thornton’s sombre company.
A short walk brought him to one of
those beautiful squares which here and
there, like oases m a desert, relieve the
moutony of this peopled wilderness.—
The walks were now deserted,
aud everything was still save the mur
mur ofa fountain, whosedancing spray,
as it sparkled in the shimering light,
developed a series of tints, varied as the
hues of hope aud chaugeless only in
their beauty.
All lovers are poetic. No wonder,
then, that Lawrence llidgeley, under
the enchantment of such a scene, sat
aud dreamed away an hour before lie
had thought it well began. But the
striking of a clock recalled him from his
revery, and lie knew it was time to re
turn to his employer, who, he feared,
had already baeu kept waiting.
Mr. Thornton met him with a lower
ing and sinister look, in which a tinge
of disappointment was visible.
“ Well, have you brought the papers?
You have taken your time, at least.”
“I have not been at the bank, sir;
Edward—”
Mr. Thornton’s face was like marble.
“Edward! what of Edward?" he
exclaimed, frantic with excitement.
Lawrence briefly explained how it
had happened that Edward had gone to
the bank in his stead.
Simple as was the recital, theiistener
seemed paralyzed at it. He clutched at
the nearest object for support. Then
recovering himself with a desperate ef
fort, he rushed toward the door; but be
fore reaching it bis steps were arrested
by a violent ringing of the bell.
“Great God!" he cried, “it is too
late!" And he sank shivering into a
seat, and covered his face with his
hands.
Lawrence opened the door, and a
stranger presented himself.
“Can I see Mr. Thornton?” he in
quired.
Lawrence conducted him to his em
ployer’s presence.
“I bring you sad news Mr. Thorn
ton."
But the messengermighthavespared
himself the trouble of telling it. None
knew better than Abel Thornton that
the snare which he had spread for an
other’s life had proved destructive to
that of his child. He had intended that
Lawrencs Bidgcley, entering the bank
at an unseasonable hour, without know
ing any one was on watch, and conse
quently taking no care to announce
himself, should be fired on and slain as
a burglar. Everything had worked as
he had planned, but the victim was his
own son !
Insanity is a boon when it brings for
getfulness of ilia too grievous to be borne;
but not such is the insanity which now
consigns Abel Thornton to a maniac’s
cell. Ghastly visions of his crime are
ever present to haunt his walking, and
still more horribly to torment hia sleep -
ing hours.
lion. Joba S. Carlile, late United Stales
Senator, who was a candidate for tho Sen
ate of West Virginia from Harrison county,
was deteated by John J. Davis, Esq., demo
crat.
LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING NOVEMBER 10 1869
A Story of Miners’ Justice.
I do not think that we ever knew bis
real name. Our ignorance of itcertain
ly never gave us any social inconve
Dienee, for at Sandy Bar, in IS-S 4, most
men were christened anew. Some
times these appellatives wero derived
from some distinctiveness of dress, as
i_i the case of “Dungaree Jack,” or
from some peculiarity of habit, as shown
in “ Saleratus Bill,” so called from an
undue, proportion of that chtmical iu
his daily bread ; or for some infelicitous
slip, as exhibited in “The Iron Pirate,”
a mild, inoffensive man who earned
that baleful title by hia unfortunate
mispronunciation of the term “iron
pyrites ” Perhaps this may have beeu
the beginning of a rude heraldry ; but
I am constraiued lo think that ic was
because a real man’s name, iu that day,
rested solely upou his own unsupported
statement. “ Call yourself Clillord, do
you, ?” said Boston, addressing a timid
new comer with infinite scorn ; “ Hell
is full of such Cliffords!” Hetheu iu
troduced the unfortunate mau, whose
name happened to be really Clifford, as
“ Jaybird Charley”—an unhallowed in
spiration of the moment, that clung lo
him ever after.
But to return to Tennessee's Partner,
whom he never knew by auy other lhau
this relative title. That he had ever
existed as a separate aud distinct indi
vidual we only learned later, it seems
that in ISo 3 he left Poker Fiat logo to
San Francisco, ostensibly to procure a
wife. He never got any farther than
Stockton. At that place ho was at
tracted by a young person who waited
upon tho table at the hotel where he
took his meals. One morning he said
something to her which caused her to
smile not unkiudly, to somewhat co
quettishly break a plate ot‘ toast over
nis upturned, serious, simple face, aud
to retreat to tno kitchen. He followed
her, aud emerged a few moments later,
cuvered with more toast aud victory.—
That dify a week they were manjid by
a Justice of the Peace and rd/unul to
Poker Flat. I am* aware that some-
thing more might be made of this epi
sode, but I prefer to tell it as it was cur
rent at Sandy Bar—in the gulches aud
bar-rooms—where all sentiment was
modified by a strong sense of humor.
Of their married felicity but little is
known, perhaps for the reason that
Tennessee, theu living with hia partner,
one day took occasion to say something
to tho bride on Lis own account, at
which.it is said, she smiled not uukind
ly, aud chastely retreated—this time
as far as Marysville, where Teunessee
followed her aud where they went to
housekeeping without the aid of a Jus
tice of the Peace. Tennessee’s Partner
took the loss of his wife simply and
seriously, as was his fashiou. But, to
everybody’s surprise, wheu Tennessee
one day returned from Marysville, with
outhis partner’s wife - she having smil
ed aud retreated with somebody else —
Tennessee’s Partner was the first mau
to shake his hand and greet him with
affection. The boys, who had gathered
iu the cauon to see the shooting, were
naturally indignant. Their indigna
tion might have found veut in sarcasm
but for a certain look iu Tennessee’s
Partner’s eye that indicated a lack of
humorous appreciation. Iu fact he was
a grave mau, with a steady application
to practical detail which was unpleas
ant iu a difficulty.
Meanwhile a popular feeling against
Tennessee had grown upon the Bar.—
He was known to be a gambler—he
was suspected to be a thief. Iu these
suspicions Tennessee’s Partner was
equally compromised ; bis continued
intimacy with Tennessee after the af
fair above quoted could only be account
ed for on tne hypothesis of a co-part
nership of crime. At last Tennessee’s
guilt became llagrant. One day he over
took a stranger oil his way to Bed Dog.
The stranger afterward related that
Teunessee beguiled the time with in
teresting aueedote and reminiscence,
but illogically coucluded the interview
iu the following words: —“And now,
young man, I’ii trouble you for your
! knife, your pistols, and your money,—
i You see your weppiugs might get you
iuto trouble iu Red Dog, aud your
money’s a temptation to the evilly dis
posed. I think you said your address
was San Fraucisco. I shall endeavor
to call.” It may be stated here that
Teunessee had a line flow of humor,
which no business pre occupation could
w holly subdue.
This exploit was his last. Red Dog
and Sandy Bar made commou cause
against the highwayman. Tennessee
was hunted iu very much the same
fashion as his prototype—the grizzly.
As the toils closed around him, he made
a desperate dash through the Bar,
emptying his revolver at the crowd be
fore the Arcade Saloon, aud so on up
Grizzly Canon ; but at its farther extre
mity lie was stopped by a small mau,
on a gray horse. The men looked at
each other a moment in silence Botli
were fearless; both self-possessed aud
independent; and both typesof a civil
ization that in the seventeenth century
would have been called heroic, but in
the nineteenth, simply “reckless.”—
“ What have you got there?—l call,”
said Teunessee, quietly. “ Two bowers
and an ace,” said the stranger,as quiet
ly, showing two revolvers aud a bowie
knife. “ That takes me,” returned
Tennessee; and, with this gamblers’
epigram, he tf.r.w away his useless
pistol, and rode back with his captor.
It was a warm night. The c )ol breeze
which usually sprung up with the going
down of the sun behind the chapparal
crested mountain was that evening
withheld from Saudy Bar. The little
canon was stiffing with heated, resin
OU3 odors, aud the decaying drift-wood
outlie Bar sent forth faint, sickening
exhalations. The feverishness of day,
and its fierce passions, still filled the
camp. Lights moved restlessly along
the bank of the river, striking no an
swering reflection from its tawny cur
rent. Against the blackness of the
piues the windows of the old loft above
the express office stood out staringly
bright; and through their curtainless
panes the loungers below could see the
forms of tho.-:e who were eyen then de
ciding the fate of Tennessee. And above
all this, elehed on the dark firmament, !
rose the .Sierra, remote and passionless, |
crowned with remoter, passionlessstars.
The trial of Tennessee was conducted
as fairly as was consistent with a judge
and jury who felt themselves to some
extent objiged to justify, in their ver
dict, the previous irregularities of arrest
and indictment. The law of Sandy Bar
was implacable, but not vengeful. The
excitement and personal feeling of the
chaso were over; with Tennessee safe
in their hands, they were ready to listen
patiently to any defence, which they
were already satisfied was insufficient.
There being no* doubt in their own
minds, they were willing to give the
prisoner the benefit of any that might
exist. Secure in the hypothesis that he
ought to be hanged, on general princi
ples, they indulged him with more lati
tude of defence than his reckless hardi
hood seemed to ask. The judge appear
ed to be more anxious than the prisoner,
who, otherwise unconcerned, evidently
took a grim pleasure in the responsibil
ity he had created. “ I don’t take any
hand iu this yer game,” had been his
invariable, but good-humored reply to
all questions. The judge—who was
also his captor—fora moment vaguely
regretted that he had not shot him “ on
sight" that morniug, butpresently dis
missed this humau weakness as un
worthy of the judicial mind. Never
theless, when there was a .tap at the
door, and it was said Tennessee’s
ner was there on behalf of the prisoner,
he was admitted at once without ques
tion. Perhaps the younger members of
the j ury, to whom the proceedings were
becoming irksomely thoughful, hailed
him as a relief.
For he was not, certainly, an impos
ing figure. Short and stout, with a
square face, sunburned into a preterna
tural redness, clad in a loose duck
“jumper" and trousere streaked and
splashed with red soil, his aspect under
any circumstances - 70uld have been
quaint, and was now even ridiculous.
As he stooped to deposit at his feet a
heavy carpet bag he was carrying, it be
came obvious, from partially developed
legends the mater
ial with trousers were patch
ed had been originally intended for aless
ambitious covering. Yet be advanced
with great gravity, and, after having
shaken the hand of each persoa in the
room with labored cordiality, he wiped
his serious, perplexed face on a red
bandanna handkerchief, a shade lighter
than his complexion, laid his powerful
hand upon the table to steady himself,
and thus addressed the judge:
“Iwaspassin’ by," he began, by way
of apology, " and I thought I’d just step
in and see how things were gettin’ on
with Tennessee thar—ray pardner. It’s
i a hot night. I-disremember any *uch
I weather before on the Bar.”
He paused a moment, but nobody
volunteering any other meteorological
1 recollection, he again had recourse to
l his pocket-handkerchief, and for some
moments mopped hia face diligently.
“ Have you ahy thing to say in behalf
of the prisoner?”sald the judge, finally.
! “That’s it,” saldTennessee’sPartner,
: in a tone of relief. “I come yar as Ten
j nessee’s pard ner—knowing him nigh on
i four yeaia, off’ aDd on, wet and dry, in
j luck aud out o' luck. His ways ain’t
I allers my ways but tharaln'tany p’ints
I iu ibatyouug man—tbarain’t any live-
I iiuess as he’s been up to—as I don’t
know. And you stz tome, sezyou—
coufideutial-like, and between mau and
1 mau stz you, *Do you know anything
i in his behalf? ’ and I stz to you, stz I—
i confidential-like, as between man and
: man—wliat should a man know of his
,pardner?” i
“ Is this all you have to say ?” asked I
the judge, impatiently, feeling, perhaps,
that a dangerous sympathy of humor
1 was beginning to humanize the court.
“ Thel’s so,” coutinued Tennessee’s
Partner. “It aiu’t for me to say any
thing ugiu’ him. And now what’s the
case? Here's Teunessee wants money,
wants it bad, and doesn’t like to ask it
of his old pardner. Well, what does
Tennessse do? He lays for a stranger,
and ho fetches thatstranger. And you
lays for him, aud you fetches him ; and
the honors is easy. And I put it to you
—bein’ a far-minded—an—and to you
gentlemen, all, as far-minded men, ef
this :sn’t so?”
“ Prisoner,” said the judge, interrupt
ing, “ have you any questions to ask this
man ?”
“No! no!” continued Tennessee
Partner, hastily ; “ I play this yer hand
alone. To come down to the bed-rock,
it’s just this: Tennessee, thar, has
played it pretty rough and expensive
likeou a stranger, and on this yer camp.
And now, what’s thefair thing? Borne
would say more ; some would Bay less.
Here's seventeen hundred dollars in
coarse gold aud a watch —it’s about all
my pile—and call It square!” And be
fore a hand could be raised to prevent
him, lie had emptied the contents of
the carpetbag unon the table.
For a moment his life was in jeop
ardy. One or two men sprung to their
feet, several hands groped for hidden
weapons, and a suggestion to “throw
him from the window” was only over
ridden by a gesture from the judge.
Teunessee laughed. And apparently
oblivious of the excitement, Tennessee’s
Partner improved the opportunity lo
mop his face again with his handker
chief.
When order was restored, and the
mau was made to understand, by the
use of forcible figures and rhetoric, that
Tennessee’s offence could not be con
doned by money, his face took a more
serious and sanguinary hue, and those
who were nearest to him noticed that
his rough baud trembled slightly on
the table. He hesitated a moment as
he slowly returned the gold to the car
pet bag, as if he had not yet entirely
caught the elevated seuae of justice
which swayed the tribunal, aud " 13
perplexed with the belief that he :...J
uot offered enough. Then he tinned
to the Judge, and Baying, “This yer is
a lone hand, played alone, and without
my pardner,” he bowed to the jury aud
was about to withdraw, when the Judge
called him back. “If you have any
thing to say to Tennessee you had bet
ter say it now.” For the first that eve
ning the eyes of the prisoner aud his
strange advocate met. Tennessee
smiled, showed his white teeth, and
saying, “Euchred, old man!” held out
his hand. Tennessee’s partner took
it in his own, and saying, “I just drop
ped iu as I was passiu’ to see how
thiugs was gettin’ on,” let the hand
passively full, and adding that “it was
a warm night,” again mopped his face
with his handkerchief, aud without an
other word withdrew.
The two men never again met each
other alive. For the unparalelled insult
of a bribe offered to Judge Lynch—who,
whether bigoted, weak or narrow, was
at least incorruptible —firmly fixed in
the miud of that mythical personage
any wavering determination of Ten
nessee’s fate; aud at the break of day he
was marched, closely guarded, to meet
it at the top of Marley’s Hill.
How he met it, how cool he was, how
he refused to say anything, how perfect
were the arrangements of the Commit
tee, were all duly reported—with the
addition of a warning moral and exam
; pie to all future evil doers —in the “Red
Dog Clarion,” by its editor, who was
preseut, and to whose vigorous Euglish
I cheerfully refer the reader. But the
beauty ofthat midsummer morning, the
blessed amity of earth and air aud sky,
the awakened life cf Ihe free woods aud
hills, the joyous renewal and promise of
nature, aud above all, the infinite se
renity that thrilled through each, was
not reported, as not being a part of the
social lesson, And yet, when the weak
aud foolish deed was done, and a life
with its possibilitiesaud responsibilities,
had passed out of the misshapen thing
that dangled between earth and sky,
t he birds sung, the flowers bloomed, the
sun shone as cheerily as before; and
possibly the “Red Dog Clarion” was
right.
Tennessee’s Partner was not iu the
group tbatsurrouuded theomnious tree.
But us they turned to disperse, attention
was called to the singular appearance ol
a motionless donkey cart halted at the
side of the road. As they approached
theyatouce recognized the venerable
“Jenny" aud the two-wheeled cart as
the property of Tennessee’s Partner
used by him in carrying dirt from his
claim; and a few paces distant the
owner of the equipage himself, sitting
under a buckeye tree, wiping the pers
piration from his glowing face. Iu an
swer to an inquiry, he said he had come
for the body of the “diseased,” “if it
was all the same to the committee."
He didn’t wish to “ hurry anything ;"
he could " wait." He was not working
that day; aud when the gentlemen
were done with the “diseased" he would
take him. “Ef thar is any present,"
he added, in his simple, serious way,
“as would care to jiue ia the fuu’l
they kiu come." Perhaps it was from
a sense of humor, which I have already
intimated was a feature of Sandy Bar ;
perhaps it was from something even
better than that; but two thirds of the
loungers accepted the invitation at once.
It w*as noon when the body of Ten
nessee was delivered iuto the hands of
nis partner. As the cart drew up to the
fatal tree, we noticed that it contained
a rough, oblong box —apparently made
from a section of sluiciDg —and half
filled with bark and the tassels of pine.
The cart was further decorated with
slips of willow, aud made fragrant with
buckeye blossoms. When the body was
deposited in the box, Tennessee’s part
ner drew over it a piece of tarred canvas,
and gravely mouuting the narrow seat
in front, with hia feet upon the shafts,
urged the little donkey forward. The
equipage moved slowly on, at that de
corous pace which was habitual with
“ Jenny ” even uuder less solemn cir
cumstances. The men—half curiously,
half jestingly, but all good humoredly—
strolled along beside the cart; some in
advance, some a little in the rear of the
homely catafalque. But, whether from
the narrowing of the road, or some pres
ent sense of decorum, as the cart passed
the company fell to the rear in couples,
keeping step, and otherwise assuming
the external appearance of a formal pro
cession. Jock Follnsbee, who had, at
the outset, played a funeral march in
durnb show upon an imaginary trom
bone, desisted, from a Jack of sympathy
and appreciation—not having, perhaps,
your true humorist’s capacity to be con
tent with the enjoyment of his own fun.
Theway led through Grizzly Canon—
by this time clothed in funeral drapery
and shadows. The redwoods, burying
their moccassined feet in the red soil,
stood in Indian file along the track,
trailing an uncouth benediction from
their bending boughs upon the passing
bier. A hare, surprised into helpless
inactivity, sat upright and pulsating,in
the ferns by the roadside, as the cortege
went by. Squirrels hastened to gain a
secure outlook from higher boughs; and
the blue jays, spreading their wiDgs,
fluttered before them like outriders, un
til the outskirts of Sandy Bar were
reached, and the solitary cabin of Ten
nessee’s Partner.
Viewed under more favorable circum
stances, it would not have been a cheer
ful place. The unpicturesque site, the
rude and unlovely outline, the unsavory
details, which distinguish the nest
building of the California miner, were
all here, with the dreariness of decay
superadded. A few paces from the cabin
there was a rough euclosure, which, in
xhe brief days of Tennessee’s Partner’s
matrimonial felicity, had been used as
! a garden, but now overgrown with fern,
j As we approached it, we were surprised
j to find that what we had taken for a
recent attempt at cultivation, was the
broken soil about an open grave.
Tbe cast was halted before the - n
closure; and rejecting the offers of
assistance, with the same air of sirnplo
self-reliance he had displayed through
out, Tennessee’s Partner lifted the
i rough coffin on his back, and deposited
j it, unaided, within the shallow grave.
1 He then nailed down the board which
s?rved as a lid ; andmounting the little
mound of earth beside it, took off his
hat and slowly mopped his face with
his handkerchief. This the crowd felt
was preliminary to speech ; and they
disposed themselves variously ou
stumps and boulders, and satexpectaut.
“ When a man,” began Tennessee’s
Partner, slowly, “ has been running
free ull day, what’s the natural thing
i for him to do? Why, to come home. —
i And if he ain’t in a condition to go
| home what can his best friend do?
I Why, bring him home! Aud here’s
| Teunessee has been running free, and
j picked up a fragment of quartz, r-ybbed
j It thoughtfully ou his sleeve, and weut
l on : "It ain’t the first time that I’ve
packed him on my back as yousee’d me
uow. It alu’t the first time that I
brought him to this yer cubiu when he
couldn't help himself; it ain’t the first
time I aud ‘Jinny’ have waited forhim
on yon hill, and picked him up and so
fetched him home, wheu he couldu’t
speak and Uidu't know me. Aud now
that it’s the last lime —why”—he paus
ed, and rubbed the quartz geutly on his
sleeve—“ you see it’s sort of rough on
his pardner. And now, gentlemen,”
j he added, abruptly, picking up his
loDg-handled shovel, “the fuu'l’s over;
and my thanks,and Teuuessee’s thanks,
to you for yourtrouble.”
Resisting any proffers of assistance,
he began to fill iu the grave, turmug
his back upon tbe crowd, that after a
few moments’ hesitation gradually
withdrew. As they crossed the little
ridge that hid Sandy Bar .from view,
some, looking back, thought they could
see Tennessee's Partner, his work doue,
sitting upon the grave, his shovel be
tween his knees, and hi 3 face buried in
his red bandanna handkerchief. But it
was argued Ly others that you couldu’t
tell his face from his handkerchief at
that distance ; and this point remained
undecided.
In the reaction that followed the fev
erish excitement of that day, Tennes
see’s Partner was not forgotten. A se
cret investigation had cleared him of
auy complicity iu Tennessee’s guilt,
and left only a suspicion of his general
sanity. Sandy Bar made a point of
calling on him, and proffering various
uncouth, but well-meant kindnesses. —
But from that day his rude health and
great strength seemed to visibly de
cline ; and when tho rainy season fair
ly set in, and the tiny grass blades were
beginning to peep from the rocky mound
above Tennessee’s grave, he took to his
bed.
One night when the pines beside the
cabin were swaying in the storm, and
trailing their slender fingers over the
roof, and the roar and rush of the swol
len river were heard below. Tennes
see's Partner lifted his bead from the
pillow, sayiug :—“ It is time to go for
Tennessee; I must put ‘Jinny’ in the
cart;” and would have risen from his
bed but for his attendant. Struggling,
he still pursued his singular fancy ;
“ There, —now- steady, ‘Jinny’ —steady
old girl, llow dark it is ! Look out for
the ruts—and look out for him too old
gal. Sometimes he's blind drunk, an'
drops down right in the trail. Keep on
straight up to the pine on the top of the
hill. Thar—l told you so!—thar he is
coming this way too—all by himself,
sober, and his faee a shining. Tennes
see! Partner.”
Aud so they met.
Putting Up Stoves.
The ceremony of this ‘great vexation'
of,the season is so well described ty
Mark Twain—who has been through it
—that we gladly reproduce the descrip
tion, at the same time commending its
truthfulness and appropriateness. The
lords of the household, upon whom the
I unpleaaantduty annually devolves, will
! find here a pen picture just sooted to
their case. But for Twain's own words :
In consequence of the arrival of cold
weather once more, about these days
there is a universal putting' up of
stoyes, preparatory for the winter
campaign, and undoubtedly a great
deal of profanity is indulged in.—
One who has considerable experience
in the work of puttiug up stoves,
says, fho first step to be taken Is to
put on a vyy old and ragged coat,
uuder the impression that wbeu he gets
his mouth full of plaster it will keep his
shirt bosom clean. Next he gets his
hands inside the place where the pipe
ought to go, and blacks his fingers, aud
then ho carefully makes a black mark
down on oue side of his nose. It is im
possible to make any headway, in doiug
this work, until his markis made down
the side of the nose. Having got his
face properly marked, the victim is
ready to begin the ceremony. The head
of the family—who is the big goose of
the sacrifice —grasps one side of the bot
tom of the stove, and his wife aud the
hired girl take hold of the other side.
In this way the burdensome load is
started from the woodshed toward the
parior. Going through the door the
head of the family will carefully swiug
his side of the stove around and jam
his thumb nail against the door. This
part of the ceremooy is never omitted.
Having got the family comfortably in
place, the next thing is to fiud thelegs.
Two of these are left inside the stove
since the spring before. The other two
must be hunted after for twenty-five
minutes. They are usually found un
der the coal. Then the head of the
family bolds up one side of the stove
while his wife puts two of the legs in
place, and next he holds up the other
side while the other two are fixed, and
one of the firet two falls out. By the
time the stove is on its legs begets
reckless and takes off his old coat
regardless of his linen. Then he goes
off for the pipe and gets a cinder in
his eye. It don’t make any difference
how well the pipe was put up last year
it will be found a little too short or a
little too long. The head of the family
jams his hat over his eyes and taking
a pipe under each arm goes to the tin
shop to have it fixed. When begets
back he steps upon one of the best par
lor chairs to see if the pipe fits, and
his wife makes him get down for fear
he will scratch the varnish off from
the chairs with the nails in his boot
heel. In getting down he will sure
ly step on the cat, and may thank
his stars if it is not the baby!—
Then he gets an old chair and climbs
up to the chimney again to find that in
cutting the pipe off the end has been
left too big for the hole in thechimney.
So he goes to the woodshed and splits
one side of the end of the pipe witn an
old axe, and squeezes it in his hands to
make it smaller. Finally he gets the
pipe in shape and finds that the stove
does not stand true. Then himself aDd
wife and the hired girl move the stove
to the left and the legs fall out again.—
Next is to move to the right. More
difficulty with the legs. Moved to
the front a little. Elbow not even
with the hole in the chimney, and
he goes to the wood shed after
some little blocks. While puttiug
the blocks under the legs the pipe
comes outof thechimney. Thatreme
died the elbow keeps tipping over to
the great alarm of the wife. Head of
the family gets the dinner table out,
puts the old chair on it, gets his
wife to hold the chair, and balances
himself on it to drive some nails into
the ceiling, Drops the hammer onto
wife’s head. At last gets the nails
driven, makes a wire swing to hold the
pipe, hammers a little there, takes a
long breath, and announces the cere
mony completed. Job never put up
anyßtoves. It would have ruined his
reputation if he had.
Tbe ambition of very young men to make
an Impression on tbe andieuce is well illqs
trated by Bn anecdote of Edwin Adamp,
now one of tbe most accomplished and nop*
ular of our American actors He entered
the profession at tbe bottom round of tbe
ladder, and the first words be bad to speak
consisted ofthesimpleannouncement, “My
lord, the carriage awaits.” Tbe temptation
was too greata one for tbe vaulting youth to
resist, and having made his announcement,
be added, with great emphasis and dignity,
“And, sir, tbe man who would lay bis hand
on a woman, save In kindness, is no gen
tleman.” Tbe sentiment won the favor of
tbe‘‘gods of tbe gallery,” Adams received
a hearty round of applause, acknowledged
it by a bow, and walked off triumphantly,
but to tbe great astonishment and dismay
of the other actors.
imfortast decision.
A ( ouirnct for the Payment of Con cd
orate Notes mad'' daring tbe Late
itt-belllon, may be Enforced
In tbelonrts of tbe tint
’ tiKl States,—Opinion
by cblef J notice
Cbaso.
Washington, D. C , Nov. 1. —The
following important opinion was deliv
ered to day in the Supreme Court of the
United States
No. 112 Thorington vs. Smith &
Hartley.—Opinion of the Court by Chief
Justice Chase.
This Is a bill In Equity for the en
forcement of a vendor's Her.
It is not denied that Smith & Hartley
purchased Thorington’s laud, or that
they executed to him their promissory
note for part of the purchase money, as
set forth in his bill; or that, If there
wa9 nothing more in the case, he would
be entitled to a decree for the amount
of the note aud iuterest, and for the
sale of tho laud to satisfy the debt. But
it is insisted, by the way of defeuce,
that the negotiation for the purchase of
the laud look place, and that the note
iu controversy, payable oue day after
date, was made, at Montgomery, in the
State of Alabama, where all the parties
resided in November, 1804, at which
tirno the authority of the United States
was excluded frum that portion of the
Slate, and the only currency In use
consisted of Confederate Treasury notes
issued aud put in circulation by persons
exercising the ruling power of the btutes
iu rebellion, known as the Confederate
Government.
It was also insisted that the laud pur
chased was worth no more than three
thousaud dollars iu lawful money ; that
the contract price was forty-fiye thou
saud dollars;,that this price, by the
agreement of the parties, was tobopaid
iu Confederate notes; that thirty-live
thousand dollars were actually paid in
these notes, and that the note given for
the remaining ten thousand dollars was
to be discharged in the same manner ;
and it is*claimed on this state of facts,
that the vendor is entitled to no relief
iu a Court of the Uuitei States, and
this claim was sustained in tho Court
below, and the bill was dismissed. The
questions before us on appeal are these:
First, cau a contract for the pay ment of
Confederate notes, made during the
late rebellion, between parties residing
within the so called Confederate States,
be enforced at all in the Courts of the
United States? Second: Can evidence
be received to prove that a promise ex
pressed to be for the payment of dollars
was in fact, and for the payment ofany
other than lawful dollars of the United
States? Does the evidence in the record
establish the fact that the note for ten
thousand dollars was to be paid, by
agreement of the parties, iu Confeder
ate notes? The first question Is by no
means free from difficulty. It cannot
be questioned that the Confederate
notes were issued in furtherance of an
unlawful attempt to overthrow the
Government ot the United States by
insurrectionary to r ce. Nor is it a doubt
ful principle of law that no contract
made in aid of such an attempt can be
enforced through the Couita of the
couutry whose government is thus as
sailed. J}ut was the contract of the par
ties to'this suit a coutract of that char
acter-can it be fairly described as a
contract in aid of the rebellion ? Iu ex
amining this question, the state of that
part of the country in which it was
made must be considered. It is familar
history that, early in ISGI, tho authori
ties of seven States, supported, as w’as
alleged, by popular majorities com
bined, for the overthrow of the National
Union, and for the establishment, with
in its boundaries, of a separate and in- i
dependent confederation. A govern
mental organization representing these
States was established at Montgomery,
in Alabama, first under a provisional
constitution, and afterwards under a
constitution intended to be permanent.
Iu the course of a few months four
other States acceded to this confedera
tion, and the seat of the central author
ity was transferred to llichmond, in
Virginia. It was by the central autor
ity thus organized, and under its direc
tion, that tbe civil war was carried on
upou a vast scale agaiust the Govern
ment of the UnitedStatesfor more than
four years. Its power was recognized
as supreme in nearly the whole of the
terrilory of the States confederated. It
was the actual government of all the ;
insurgent States, except those por
tions of them protected from its con
trol by the presence of the armed
forces of the National Government.
What was the precise character of
this government in contemplation of
law? It is difficult to define it with
exactness. Any definition that may be
given may not improbably be found to
require limitation and qualification.—
Bui the general principles of law rela
ting to a de facto government will, we
think, conduct us to a conclusion suffi
ciently accurate. There are several
degrees of what is called dc facto gov
ernment. Such a government, in its
highest degrees, assumes a character
very closely resembling that of a lawful
government. This is when the usurp
ing government expels the regular au
thorities from their customary seats and
functions, and establishes itself in their
places, and so becomes the actual gov
ernment of acountry. The distinguish
ingcharacteristics of such a government
is that adherents toitin waragainstthe
government dc jure do not incur the
penalties of treason ; and, under certain
limitations, obligations assumed by it in
behalf of the country or otherwise will,
in general, be respected by the govern
ment de jure when restored.
Examples of this description of gov
ernment de facto are found in English
history. Thestatute 11, Henry VII., C.
I. (Brit. Slat, at large), relieves from
penalties far treason all persons who, in
defence of the King for the time being,
wage war against those who endeavor
to subvert hjs authority by force of arms,
though warranted in so doiDg by the
lawful monarch (4 81. Comm., 77).
But this is where the usurper obtains
actual possession of tho royal authority
of the kingdom; not when hs has sue
ceeded only in establishing his power
overparticularlocalities. Being in such
possession, allegiance is due to him as
king de facto.
Another example may be found in tbe
government of England under the Com
monwealth, first by Parliament and
afterwards by Cromwell as Protector.
I It was Dot, in the contemplation of law,
I a government dc jure, but. it was a gov
eminent de facto in the absolute sense.
It made laws, trealies, and conquests,
which remained the laws, treaties and
conquests of Eogland after the restora
tion. The better opinion is that facta
done in obedience to this government
could not be justly regarded as treason
able, though in hostility to the king de
jure . Such acts were protected from
criminal prosecution by the spirit, if not
the letter, of the statute of Henry the
Seventh. It was held otherwise by tbe
judges by whom Sir Henry Vane was
tried for treason (6 State Trials, 119) in
the year following the restoration. But
such ajudgment in such a time has little
authority.
It is very certain that the Confeder
ate government was never acknowl
edged by tbe United States as a de facto
government in this sense, nor was it
acknowledged as such by powers. No
treaties were made by it. No obligations
of a national character were created by
it binding, after its dissolution, on the
States which it represented or on the
national government, From a very
early period of the war to its close it
was regarded as simply the military
representative of the insurrection
against the authority of the United
States.
But there is another description of
government, called by publicists a gov
ernment de facto , but which might,
perhaps, be more aptly denominated a
government of paramount force. Its
distinguishingcharacteristicare (1) fh&t
its existence is maintained by active
military power within the territories
and against the rightful authority for
established and lawful government; and
(2) that while it exists it must necessa
rily be obeyed in civil matters by pri
vate citizens, who, by acts of obedience
rendered in submission to such force, do
not become respousible_as wrong doers
for these acts, though not warranted by
the .laws of the rightful government.
Actual governments of this sort are es
tablished over districts differing greatly
in extent and conditions, they are usu
ally administered directly by military
authority; but they may be adminis
tered also by civil authority, supported
more or less by military force.
One example of this sort of govern
ment is found in the case of Castine, in
Maine, reduced to a British possession
(the War of 1812.) From the Ist of Sep
tember, 1814, to the ratification of the
NUMBER 45
treaty of peace in I*ls, accordiugto the
judgment of the court, in the United
! States va. Rice (4 Wheat., 253), “the
British government exercised all civil
and military authority overthe piece.”
The authority of the United States over
the territory was suspended, and the
laws of the United States could no
longer be rightfully enforced there, or
bo obligatory upon the Inhabitants
who remained and submitted to the
conqueror. By the surrender the In
habitants passed under a temporary al
legiance to the British government, aud
were bound by such laws’ and such
only as it chose to recognize aud Im
pose. It Is not to be inferred from this
that the obligations of the people of
Castlne, as citizens of the United States
was abrogated. They were suspended
merely by the presence, aud only dur
ing the presence, of the paramount
force. A like example is found lathe
case of Tampico, occupied Uuriug the
war with Mexico by the troops of
the United States. It was deter
mined by this court, in Fleming vs.
Page (9 How., 014), thatalthough Tam
picojdld not become a part of the United
States in consequence of that occupa
tion, still, ha.viug come together with
the whole Stato of Twmauilpus/.of which
it was part, into the exclusive posses
sion of the national forces, it must be
regarded aud respected by other nations
as the territory of the Uuited States.
There were cases of temporary posses
siou of territory bylawful and regular
governments at war with the eouutry,
of which the territory so possessed was
part. The ceutral government cstab
lished for the insurgent states differed
from the temporary governments at
Castine and Tampico iu the circum
stance that its authority did not origin
ate iu lawful acts of regular war; but It
was not on that accouut less active or
less supreme, aud wo think thutit must
be classed amomg the governments of
which these are examples. It Is to be
observed that the rights and obligations
of a belligerent were conceded to it in
its military character, very soon after
the war begau, from motives of human
ity and expediency, by the Uuited
States. The whole territory controlled
by it was thereafter held to bo the
enemy’s territory, aud the inhabitants
of that territory were held In most
respects for enemies. To the extent,
theu of actual supremacy, however un
lawfully gained, iu all matters of gov
ernment within its military lines, the
power of the insurgent government
cannot be questioned. That supremacy
would not justify acts of hostility to the
United States. How far it should ex
cuse them must be left to the lawful
government upon the re-establishment
of its authority. But it made civil
obedience to its authority not ouly a
necessity but a duty. Without such
obedience civil older was impossible.
It was by this government exercising
its power through an immense territory
that the Confederate notes were issued
early in the war, aud these notes, in a
short time, became almost exclusively
the currency of the insurgent States.
As contracts in themselves, iu the con
tingency of successful revolution, these
notes were nullities, for except In that
exent there could be no payer. They ■
bore, indeed, this character, upon their
face, for they were made payable only
“ after a ratification of a treaty of peace
between the Confederate States and the
Uuited States of America.” While the
war lasted however, they had a certain
contingent value, and were used as mon
ey in nearly all the business transactions
ofmany millioDsof people. They must
be regarded therefore, as a currency im
posed on the community by irresistible
force. It seems to follow as a necessary
consequence from the actual supremacy ,
of the insurgent government, as a bel-
ligerent, within the territory where it
circulated, aud the necessity of civil
obedience on the part of all who remain
ed in it, that this’ currency,must be re
garded in the courts of law in the same
light as if it had been Issued by a for
eign government temporarily occupy
ing a part of the territory of the Uuited
States. Contracts stipulating for pay
ments in that currency cannot be re
garded as m£de in aid of the foreign
invasion in the one case, or of the do
mestic insurrection in the other. They
are transactions in the ordinary course
of civil society, and, though they may
indirectly and remotely promote the
ends of the unlawful government, are
without blame, except when proved to
have been entered into with actual in
tent to further the invasion or insur
rection. We cannot doubt that such con
tracts should beenforced in thecourts of
the United States, after the restoration
of peace, to the extent of their 11 rat obli
gation. The first question, therefore,
must receive an affirmative answer.
The second question, whether evidence
can be received to prove that a promise
made in one of the insurgent States,
and expressed to be for the payment of
dollars, without qualifying words, was,
in fact, made for the payment of any
other than lawful dollars of the United
States, is next to be considered. It is
quite clear that a contract to pay dollars
made between citizens of any State of
the Union maintaining its coDstitu
tionul relations with the national gov
ernment is a contract to pay lawful
money of the United States, and cannot
be modified or explained by parole evi
dence. But it is equally clear, if in any
other eouutry coius or notes denomi
nated dollars should be authorized of
different value from the coins-or notes
which are current hero under that
name, that iu a suit upon a contract to
pay dollars made in that eouutry evi
dence would be admitted to prove what
kind of dollars was intended ; and, ifit
should turn out that foreign dollars
meant, to prove their equivalent value
in lawful mopey of the United States.
Such evidence does not modify or al
ter the contract. It simply explains an
ambiguity which, under the general
rules of evidence, may be removed by
parole evidence. We have already seen
that the people of the insurgent States,
under this Confederate government,
were, in legal contemplation, substan
tially in the same condition as inhabi
tants of districts of a country occupied
and controlled by an InvadiDg bellger
ent. The rules which would apply to
the former case would apply to the
latter, and, as in the former case, the
people must be regarded as subjects of
a foreign power, and contracts among
them be interpreted aDd enforced with
reference to the laws imposed by the
conqueror, so in the latter case the In
habitants must be regarded as under
the authority of the jnsurgent beliger
ents, actually established as the govern
ment of the country; and contracts
made with them must be interpreted
aud iuferred with reference to the con
dition of things created by the acts of
the governing power.
It is said, indeed, that under the in
surgent government the word dollars
had the same meaning as under the
government of the United Utates; that
the Coefederate notes were never made
a legal tender; and, therefore, that no
evideuce can be received to show any
other meaning of the word when used
in a contract.
But it must be remembered that the
whole couditiou of things in the insur
gent States was matter of fact, rather
than matter of law, aud as mutter of
fact these notes, payable at a future and
contingent day, which has uot arrived,
and cau never arrive, were forced into
circulation as dollars, if not directly by
the legislation, yet indirectly aud quite
as effectively by the acts of the insur
gent government. Considered in them
selves, and in the light of subsequent
events, these notes had no real value,
but they were made current as value by
irresistible force ; they were the only
measure of value which this people had,
and their use was a matter of almost
absolute necessity, and this gave
them a sort of a value, insignificant
and precarious enough, it is true,
but always having a sufficient definite
relation to gold aud silver, the universal
measures of value, so that it was easy
to ascertain how much gold and silver
was the real equivalent of a sum ex
pressed in the currency. In the light
of these facts H seems hardly less than
absurd to say that these dollars must be
regarded as identical in kind and value
with the dollars which constitute the
money of the United States. WecaDnot
shut our eyes to the fact that they were
essentially different in both respects,
and it seems to us that no rule of evi
dence, properly understood, requires us
to refuse, uuder the circumstances, to
admit proof of the sense in which the
word dollar was actually used in the
contract before us.
Our answer to the second question is
therefore, also in the affirmative. We
are clearly of the opinion that such ev
idence must be received in respects to
snch contracts in order that justice may
bo done between the parties, and that
ATE OP ADVERTISING.
Bcbi.vebs- pj*
qaare of ten lines; 16 per year for each sc*
altloaxl square.
Real Estate Abveutajueo, 10 oentaa line tot
the first, and 6 oonU for eaoh subsequent In
sertion.
Central Advertising 7 conta a lino Tor the
first, and 4 cobU for each aabioqncnt Inser
tion.
Bpioial Noners Inserted in Local Column
IS cents per line.
Special Notices preceding marriage* and
deaths, 10 cents per line for first InaorUt nt
and 6 eenta tbr every snbeeqaent Insertlonfl
liXO AJ. Aim OTH B B NOTICES—
Execators’ „ —.— -LEO
Administrators’ notices,,, — L6O
Assignees’ nntteAit. —:— ifiO
Auditors' notloes,. 2.00
Other u Notloes,*'ten lines, or lees, 3
three tlmes^...—L6o
the party entlt'cd to be pad In theso
Confederate dollars can only receive
their actual value at the time aud place
of the contract in lawful money of the
United States. We do uot think it nec
essary to go Into a detailed examination
of the evidence in (ho record in order to
vindicate our answer to the thlid ques
tion. It is euough to say that it has
left no doubt in our minds that the uotu
forslo 000. to euforco paymeut of which
suit was brought In the Circuit Court,
was to bo paid by agreement iu Confed
erate notes. Ii follows that the judg
ment of the Circuit Court must be re
versed aud the cause remanded for a
new trial, iu conformity with this opln
lou.
A Wonderful Blaine of Uypsmu.
Albany, October 27. —Tho undersigned,
on (bo 22d instant, visited and examined
tho “ Fossil Mau," or " Sculptured Giant."
Negotiations for its purchase being ut that
time in progress, it was (bought improper
for us ut that time to express our couvlc
tiotis of its character. The sale having
been perfected, wo nro now ut liberty to
make the following statement:
In common with all who have viewed
this object, wo were deeply Impressed by its
extraordinary appearance, and as we look
upou it our wonder at the intense excite
mont which it had producod, Immediately
vanished. When we had fully compre
hended its character, the inquiry spontane
ously uroae, by whom was ft made? when
and by whom placod here? It la not
strange that it hus been regarded ns a pet
riljeation. Tho popular idea on this sub
ject is vaguo and undefined. A stone
which, by accidental circumstances, has
the form of an organized being is regarded
as petrified, without iuqulry Into tho mode
iu which the chaugo lias been made. It la
sufficient here to say, that tho soft parta of
animals are never petrified. Putrifuction,
which commences us soon us tho vital
forces cease, is rapid. Petrifaction, which
consists in a replacing of tho dissolved or
removed organic matter, Is slow, often oc
cupying years. There Is no authentic
instance oi petrified ilesh, nor can there bo
in tho nature of things.
Tho object is a statue, wrought by the
bund of man, aud as muyb is wonderful iu
thu highest degree. Tho material of which
It is formed Is gypsum, and was probably
taken from sorno of the deposits of that
mineral in tho county of Onondaga. When
tho statue has been raised fromfita presont
place, there will be a bolter opportunity of
examining tho character of the stone, of
determining its relations to existing gypad
otis strata, and of ascertaining whether it
was wrought by stone or steel Implements.
The statue lies on a bed of gravel and clay,
and was covered by an alluvial formution
of nearly four feet in depth. This has
every appearance of having been formed
ufterdho statue was placed In Us present
position. As a work of art, it is Impressive.
When it passed from the bands of the
artist it must buvo been expressive and
beautiful.
Wo do not propose any theory in regard
to its origin. Much examination must yet
be rnude, und various comparisons institu
ted, boforo uny such tboory can bo formed;
Wo are informed that-the owners invito
the most searching examination in regurd
to It, und we uro pormltted to say that tho
Regents of the University, to whom inqui
ries of this character have beon committed
by tho Legislature, will soon adopt meas
ures evidently demanded by public inter
est, to ascertain and collect all the faots
which can be gathered bearing on the sub •
jeut. Jameh Ball, .State Geologist.
S. B. Woolworth,
Secretary of the Regents of the University,
A ftobro Duel at Paris
Prince Melternlcb, the Austrian Ambas
sador at Paris, recently fought a duel with
Count do Beaumont, u French noblemun.
The Prince received the challenge. Not
long ago M. tie Beaumont discovered a
number oi letters In bis wife’s boudoir.—
Their contents displeased him. The authors
were men of rank und distinction. Princo
Metternich was ono of them. .Count jdo
Beaumont answered tho letters with bis
own hand, and tho unswers were challenges
to fight.
The duel was fought on an island in the
Rhine, near Strasburg, belonging to the
grand dueby or Buden. The middle of the
forenoon was the time chosen for the en
counter. Prince Metternich had the choice
of weapons, and selected tho sabre, as ho
hus been a euvalry officer, and therefore Is
familiar with Us use. His antagonist,
though a good swordsman with the rapier,
which wounds only by thrustß, did not so
well understand the use of the sabre, which
is mainly a cutting weapon.
When the tight began, Beaumont, ignor
unt of the usages ot the sabre-combat,rush
ed on the Prince with the point of his
sword, Just as though it were a rapier. His
antagonist was astounded at the novelty of
this attack. Be forgot himself for the in
stant. The Count closed upon him, and
pierced bis right arm above tho elbow com
pletely through. The artery was severed,
und blood gushed from the wound in
streams. Tho Priuce turned deadly pale,
but retained bis self-command sufficiently
to return the Count's salute, as required by
the duelling code. Neither of the adven
turers spoke a word. The Prince was tak*
'on to a neighboring chatean, and for sover-
nl hours was insensible, so that it was fear
ed that be would die. He was bettor at the
latest advices.
This is the third duel fongbt In conse
quence of the letters to the CountASs do
Beaumont. Her husband first fought Vis
count Ilaliy-Cluparede, and seuerely
wounded him. The Viscount, shortly after
bis escape from deulh at the hands of M. do
Beaumont, was nearly killed by a kind of
foot poisoning, occasioned by weariug red
silk slippers. A second duel wus fought
between M. do Beaumont’s younger broth
er and another of the offending letter wri
erß, who was badly wounded. The Metterp
nidi duel is the last up to the present time;
but Count de Beaumont hus appointments
to fight two other gentlemen, while many
others remain to be challenged.
Priuce Metternich is a favorite in Paris
society, and the duel has excited much in •
terest. It is singular that be should have
been wounded through the ignorance ofhls
opponent. Count de Beaomont, though
uninstructed in tho sabre exercise, was
successful; if he had known more about
tbe usual method of fighting, he mighthave
been defeated.
Tho Paris Figaro says that it is one of the
conditions of M. de Beaumont's challenges
that tbe duels sh ill continually be renewed
as soon as tho wounded recover until one of
tho two Is killed.
A Little School Girl nnrdered.
The Hartford iConn.) Oouranl gives the
following account of an inhuman and fatal
outrage committed by a woman school
teacher in that State:
“ The punishment occurred In one of tho
district schools In the town of Manchester,
and tho teacher who Inflicted It is a young
woman named Emerette Campbell.—
AmoDg her scholars was a girl named
Wheeler, aged about eight years, and this
little girl, together with two others, was
deficient in her geography lesson. There
were certain questions which tbe child
could not or did not answer, and Miss
Campbell, belioyiog this inability aroso
from wiltulness, told the child to stand
upon tbe floor of tbe school room till the
replies were given, adding that tbe punish
ment w'ould be continued until the lesson
was properly recited. Tbe little girl did
as she was bidden, and was kept upon the
floor during a portion of tbe morning exer
cises, all through the noon recess with the
excoptionofa few moments allowed her
to leave the room, and It is stated all the
afternoon—making in all nearly five hoars.
“ This pu lishment would have been
more than most grown people could havo
endured ; but for u child of eight years,and
ono of very nervous temperament at that, It
v hr carrying tbe authority of tbe sobool
room altogether too far. Tbe sequel proves
this. When the little one returned to her
parents that night sbo was in a high stato
of fear and excitement, and very Boon the
shock to her system resulted in a high brain
fever, in which she lingered about forty
eight hours, and died I During the most of
the time of her sickness she was delirious,
and cried out constantly, in heart-rending
tones, * Don’t let her ! don’t let her I ’ refer
ring all tbe time to the teacher, whom sho
seemed to imagine was following her. In
her more rational momeuts she spoke
peacefully, and asked her parents repeated
ly, ‘ When will Jesus come?* evidently re
alizing that she was drawing nearer home.”
The Synod of Virginio, which met in the
SecoDd Presbyterian Church in Richmond,
recently, is one of Ihe oldest Synods on thla
contineut. When, shortly after tbe Inde
pendence of the United Slates, tbo Presby
terian Chnrch was reorganized, In 1788 (the
year of tbe adoption of the Federal Consti
tution), tbe Synod of Virginia and the Caro
jiDus was ono of the four Synodsinto which
the Cnurch waa divided. The increase of
population and the progress of religion
compelled tbe departure of the two Synods
of North and of South Carolina from the
house of their common mother. As it has
not been subject to political legislation, this
Synod at present embraces all the Presby
terian Churches in East and West Virginia,
and many of those in Maryland. It stretches
from the ocean to the Ohio and from North
Carolina to Pennsylvania. ]t numbers 9
presbyteries, 187 ministers, 17 lioentiates,
and 21 candidates for the ministry. Ou its
roll are tbe names of 250 Churches and of
17,480 communicants.
In the published report of the proceed
ings of the Grand Lodges of the United
States of the Order of Free and Accepted
Masons, It is stated that the membership of
the order in tbo different States and Terri
tories and the British possessions reaches
454 355. Including 4,791 in Maryland, 1,783
in the District of Columbia, 8,000 in Vir
ginia, 11,184 in North Carolina, 13,107 In
Georgia, 29,850 in Pennsylvania, and 10,969
in Tennessee.