PUBLISHED KYXST WEDNESDAY BT
H. G. SMITH « CO
A. J. STEIHMA.H
£l, G. Smith,
TERMS—'Two Dollars per annum, payable
In alloasos In advanco.
THE LA.NCASTBB DAILY INTELLIGENCER lB
published every evening, Sunday excepted, at
6 per Annum In advance.
oobstxb or Centre
JFPICE—SOI
DARE,
Foliclen’a Three Wishes.
FROM thb FRENCII
They had dined—and dined well;
they had sung, smoked, played, ramb
lingly discussed the great political
questions of the day, chatted aboot
stocks and railroads, and disposed of
the usual amount of scandal looked for
on such occasions. What furthercould
they do? Borne one suggested that they
should form a circle, invoke the spirits
aud interrogate the tables.
Aeliug on ihe timely suggestion, a
lightstaud was brought in. One of the
guests, who pTofessed to unite in him
self all the requisites of a first-class me
dium, laid his hands upon the stand,
and in a solemn tone of voice inquired,
“ la there a spirit present?”
Rap! rap! responded the left foot of
the table.
In the quaint language of the tables,
two raps mean ‘‘yes,” while a single
one means “ no.”
“ Are you a good spirit ?”
Rap !
“ You are a bad spiiit then ?”
Rap! Rap!
“ Will you dictate a sentence for
us?”
Rap! Rap !
“Proceed then.”
“Wait a moment,” interrupted the
master of the house. “It will be
necessary to write under the dictation
of the table. Felicien, take pen, ink
aud paper, and remember that one rap
represents the lette? A, two raps the let
ter B, aud so on to Z.”
“Are you ready, Felicien?” asked
th'e medium.
“ (to on!"
The expert placed his hands anew
upon the little mahogany stand, wljich,
without moving from Us [dace, began a
sort of nervous trembling, ucooinpanied
by the strungest contortions.. This
druuken agitation lasted some live mi
nutes, after which the table became
quiet. When the impromptu secretary
had linally put into shape the vowels
and constants rapidly recorded by his
pen, the following singular sentence
was the result:
“ To-night, the 31st of December, all
the wishes formed by mortals, between
the eleventh and twelfth stroke of mid
night, will be iustautaneoully grant
ed.”
The company broke into a loud laugh
of irreverent skepticism. The medium
ulone compressed his lips and frowned.
“ You are wrong, geutlemeu ; upon
my honor, you are wrong,” cried he. —
“ You should not thus make sport of
serious things. You do not know at
what moment the spirits may show
their readiness to take offence and ex
hibit their Hpitefulness. Ah! gentle
men, you will yet have to repentof this
indecorous iiilaidN. l»ut stop, I will
wager you that the spit it lias ll .-d to re
turn no more !”
lie again questioned the table. Ildid
not budge.
“ I was sure of it,” sighed he.
“A pleasaut evening to you,'gentle
moD,” said the host; “ and since I may
speak to you with entire freedom, my
friends, I give you notice that 1 will
detain you no longer.”
“ You send us away, then,” said re
licien. . v. ,
“No! most assuredly not. Stay, if
you like. But here, it is half-past
eleven, aud I am expected at the opera
ball.”
80, with a few lively words, the com
pany separated.
Felicien and the medium lived in the
same street, in adjoining lodgings. They
went home in company. Oa the way
the medium was the only one to speak,
but he talked enough for both. He was
in some sort a dreamer, whom his
friends jocosely called the magiciau.—
lie had directed all his mental powers
towards magnet ism, somnambulism
and alchemy. Seeking for the phi
losopher’s stone, lie obstiuately en
deavored to make diamonds out of
charcoal. What his religion was, if
he had any at all, no one knew. But,
if he had ever been baptized, it must
surely have been in (lie frontof Mearner
with Cagliostro for his godfather.
As they went along, the magician
favored liis companion with some very
erudite remarks touching the Medes,
the Syrians, the Fgyptians, Zoroaster.
Confucius, Albertus Magnus, Dr. baust,
the sun, the moon, the slurs, and a
great variety of kindred subjects.
Felicien, who heard not a word of
this stud*, was exclusively occupied in
thinking of three things ; first, M. Du
rand, his tailor; second, M. Yaillant,
his broker ; third, Madame Dc.-grauges,
a young widow with whom he was in
love.
“ Has M Durand sent home my dress
coat, which is imlispensiblo for my
New Year’s call?” asked he of himselL
“ Does the house of Vaillant consent to
discount bills remitted to it during the
day by the house of Felicien? Has Ma
dame Desgrangts received my ardent
note? Has she deigned to honor me
with a reply? Will this reply bear to
me the joys of heaven or the tortures of
the condemned. ?”
The two young meu were by this time
standing before their respective doors.
“As I was saying to you,” con
tinued the Magiciau, “I tirmly be
lieve in the table tipping ami in spirit
rappiug. And fur this reason, in a
few moments, betweeu Ihe eleventh
and twelfth stroke of midnight, I shall
form the wishes nearest my heart. Aud
you, Felicien V ”
Felicien shrugged his shoulders, ami,
saying nothing, entered the h >us<’.
The purler received him with that
nauseating smile which, on all merce
nary lips, iuvariubiy makes its ujipear
ance the 2")ih of December, ami which
disappears not less invariably the 2d day
of January, lie politely handed Felicien
three letters, and his lodger having of
fered to repay the postage at once—
“ Never mind, sir,” said he, in the
suavest of touts, “we will settle some
other time.”
Felicien took (lie letters, and,.recog
nizing their .superscription, unsealed
and read them eagerly in the glimmer
of tiie gas which still lighted the stair
way. The lir.-t ran as follows:
“pfiu: Your black coat is ready for
you. Never have my shears been more !
fortumite in their labors, It id a mas* j
tcrpieee. You cau seud for it at dawn
to-morrow; but, aa your little account
has already risen to a respectable figure,
the coat in question will be sent you
upon the payment of one hundred nud
fifty fraucs, the amount which you
promised me some three months since,
nud which 1 have uot yot seen. In
case you cannot make ready the
said sum, in failing to send for the coat
you will spare yourself useless trouble.
Yours, etc , ‘ Durand.”
“Brigand!” muttered Felicien, and
passed on to the second letter:
Sir : I have received your two bills,
amounting joiutly to live hundred
francs, enclosed in your favor of to-day.
Not only is the signature of the endors
ers,permit me the expression,very faint,
but you are doubtless well aware that
the close of the year renders tanking
operations, if not impossible, at least
exceedingly difficult. Money has hid
den itself, has taken to itself wings, has
disappeared. Nevertheless, since I be
lieve it will be agreeable to you, here
are my propositions—l will say fur
ther —here is my ultimatum: I will
pay over to you two hundred francs
cash, aud will reserve to myself the re
maining three huudred francs for brok
erage, commission, interests, suits, pro
ceedings and costs of all sorts. More
over, you will give me some boxes in
the theatres wheu your friends have
their pieces played, and some tickets to
the opera bail, for Ernest, my nephew.
“ Y’ours, etc., Vaillant.”
“Infamous! ” muttered Felician, and
passed tp the third letter, thus written :
“I have received with surprise the
unjustifiable letter which you have
dared r to write to me. Do not
forget in future sir, that lam sincerely
attached toM. Delanoue, who is shortly
to become my husband. To him and to
him alone, belong all my thoughts, all
my affections.”
Felician did not stop to finish this
letter, tearing it to pieces in hla rage.
“ Her husband! shortly to become her
huflband!” thought he aloud; “what
th© deuce does she care for that fool! ’ J
As he entered his chamber he fixed
hie eyes mechanically on the hands of
the clock. The two points seemed but
one as they stood over the figure XII,
•and already was heard the warning
whirr-roftho wheelwork preparatory
cEl)c lancastcr Jntdlujcna'v.
VOLUME TO
to striking. Felicien counted one, two,
three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine,
ten, eleven, twelve. But in the short
interval which separated the last two
strokes, the sentence dictated by the
table re-entered his mind, and he ai
lowed himself to wish for the death of
M. Durand, of M. Vaillant, and of M.
Delanoue, the-ffiture husband of Mme.
Deseranees. (*
“Good heavens! Ihavemade myself
as great a fool as the magician!” cried
he, when he had formed this triply
homicidal wish.
He glanced through the ratrie, the
evening journal, meanwhile smoking a
cigar, undressed and went to bed, and
was soon in profound slumber.
The next day —which was the first of
January—Felicien was awakened by
the garcons of the bureau of adminis
tration to which he was attached, if the
drawing of a salary of two thousand
four hundred franco a year was any
proof of the fact. He distributed among
them his little remaining change, which
yielded to him in return an infinite
quantity of salaams and genuflections.
“ M. Felicien,” said one of these men,
“M. the Director will receive his em
ployees at two o’clock precise!y. There
is no admittance except in white cravat
and black coat.”
The while cravat is worn by all the
world—by those (if the lowest degree as
well as those of the highest. A pocket
handkerchief, a fine piece of paper, a
fold of a curtain—the first thing that
cornea to haud—aud your cravat is made.
11 i 3 equally necessary that a black coat
should be of as easy construction ; but
it is only the character in fantastic
romance who dare to display themselves
before the world clad in a dress coat
made on the spur of the moment by
pinning up the llaps of one’s frock coal.
“ Very well,” sighed Felicien; “I
must allow myself to he trampled under
the cloven lioof of M. Yailluut; itcau’t
be avoided. I will take the two hundred
francs cash which he sees fit to oiler me,
iuexchauge for my noteof livehun.lred ;
I will give to that uureleuliug Duraud
the seven louis and a half which he so
imperiously demands; I will puton my
new coat and «go to see tiie Director,
aud there will remain fifty francs for
spending-money. Who can tell hut
this coat may be destined to melt the
triple case of ice iu which is enclosed
tue heart of my cruel widow ? ‘On the
Influence of New Garments in Matters
of Sentiment’ —a philosophical thesis,
in which I will find material for a
piquant octavo, on the publication of
which, instead of being an insignifi
cant government employee, I shall be
come famous as a man of letters.”
When he reached home toward six
o’clock, the porter, already less polite
than the preceding eveuiug, handed him
a letter from M. the Director, containing
a dismissal in due form.
“Sir,” wrote the Director, “I have
suspected for a long time that you were
a revolutionist, a Voltairist, a free
thinker. Your conduct on this import
autday has confirmed all my suspicions.
You alone, of all you colleagues, have
dispensed with a mark of deference
which, in'you, was an imperative duty.
‘•Be it known to you, therefore that
I dispose of your place in favor of
a v'cll bred young man, who is warmly
recommended by an intimate friend.
Dating from to-day, your presence is no
longer required at the oftice of the ad
ministration which 1 have tiie honor to
direct.”
“Where is my key?” demanded be
licieu, overcome by this unexpected
blow.
The porter smiled with an air of at
tempted shrewdness.
“Monsieur knows very well where
his key is,” said he, lowering liisvoice.
“ If I knew, I should not ask for it,”
replied Felicien in a surly tone.
“ Parbku. . I have given it to a lady.”
“What lady?”
I “I do not know; she is veiled and
| dressed in black.”
i “And you have, given her my key
without knowing her?”
“ Ah, sir, one immediately perceives
1 how affairs stand,” parried the porter,
| who had received five fraucs from the
j unknown lady.
| Felicien was amazed to recognize
! Mme. Desgrauges installed in his sit
: ting-room, tranquilly warming her feet
i before his fire.
j “You here, madarae ?” cried he; “can
! I believe my eyes? After the letter
1 which you wrote me last evening ”
“ Last evening I was engaged to be
! married,” interrupted Madame Des
i granges.
“ And to-day?”
I “To day, lam free.”
Felicien clung to the back of a sofa.
“Free?” repeated he; “you are free?”
“Last night, M. Delanoue blew out
his brains, at the moment when the
j clock was striking twelve; so lam told.
! Listen, Felicien, and do not interrupt
me. 1 love you, but I would have died
1 ratiier than have confessed it, even in
I my heart, while I was promised to
! another. You see what use I make of
I my liberty. Now there is no one to
; come between us; and I hasten to you
! and say, ‘ My life isyours ; take it, for I
! give it to you.' Iu ten months you will
j marry me, willyou not? I can therefore
. speak to you as I would speak to my hus
; band. I am completely penniless. The
! suicideofM. Delanouemustbeattributed
I to heavy losses which he met with at the
j Bourse from time to time. Not only his
I own fortune, but mine, which he bad
! already taken eharge of, was involved.
I But what matters wealth when there is
I such love as that which exists between
j you and me, dear Felicien? You will
i redouble your labor, that is all. I have
1 a daughter at school. I have told you
j that she is nine years old ; the truth is,
! she has just entered her sixteenth year.
- 1 She must .he married and portioned
j forthwith. This care you will look to
; —you her second father. \ou will also
j remember to render comfortable the
Rapid flight alone snatched Felicien 1 () u {) f my parents, also involved
from certain death. He llew rather ,j n ni y liuanciul ruin. Dear friend,
than ran from the rue Bu’<;crc to the y OU twenty four years old, I
rue 1 'ivienne —from the house of M. ; Know. As for me, 1 am tliirty-
Vaillant to that of his tuilor. When he eight. And this difference of age is a
opeued the door of the shop, lie was not j flure guarantee of our future happiness,
a little surprised to hearclumorouH lam- j inall well-united households a direct
entatioiis uttered by four children »f j j n g mind i 3 necessary, is indispensable,
the tenderest age. The clerks and j will he the governing power, while
workmen went and came in a-tate of you shall have the name of sovereign,
bewilderment bordering upon idiocy.— ulH i we shall h4vo no revolutions to
The tailor’s wife was breaking out iuto f ear> ”
ahistericaisobbing, which boreastrong Felicien listened to this long dis
resemblance to the pulls of a locomotive course without saying a word. Mme.
about starting. Desgrauges. whom he had never before
“What has happeued here?” was j seeu except iu full dress, a model of
Felicien’s question to a clerk. ‘ neatness, with eyebrows penciled, face
“Ah, sir, a dreadful misfortune! This powdered au<l rouged—fully; equipped,
poor shopkeeper—” j as one might say—now appeared to him
“Well—” ' for the first time as r-.he was iu reality—
“lie did not make his appearance in a£ pi e ndid ruin, but no less a ruin,
the morning; they thought him out, “ Ah, wretch that I am!” cried he;
walkiug, auil breakfasted with him. : n j have wished the deaths of my
Ten minutes since, Mme Durand, by neighbors \ (F:d has punished me, and
ohuuee, entered his chamber, ami , j deserve it!”
glancing toward the bed, she saw her He sprang to the window, dashul it
| husbaud there still asleep—atleast with ; o p eUi ihru-t out his head, and—
the appearance of sleeping. She ap- j
proached him and began to scold him !
| for his laziness. He did not stir. Sho
Thus thinking on his way, heshnrtly
found himself at the door of the dis
counter.
“M. Vaillant,” said he, pausing be
fore the porter's apartment.
The porter spraug down from his
niche, ran after Felicien and caught
him by the arm.
“At last you are here,” cried he. “It
is high lime ! They have been waiting
for you above for two hours.”
“For me'."'
“For you. I went after you myself
three times at your place of business.”
“But lam not there ou New Year’s
day.”
“That is wrong. Do not people die
in Paris on New Year's day, the same
as on other days in the year ?”
“ I do not understand you,” said Fe-
Helen.
To explain the matter, the porter had
gone three times duringthemorning to
the undertakers's, and had mistaken
Felicien as being employed “in that
business.
“ Is there then a death in the bouse?”
asked the young man.
“ Oh ! mon Dieu. yes ! Poor M. Yail
laut was carried oil* by a dreadful attack
of apoplexy.”
“M. Vaillant dead! When did he
die?”
“ Last night.”
“ At what time?”
“Midnight.”
Felicien felt a cold perspiration run
down his back. He asceuded the stair
case aud entered M. Vaillant’s apart
ment. The room was invaded by
numerous men in black. Some were
scribbling on stamped paper, others
were applying impressions of red seal
ing-wax upou the drawers and all the
furniture. .
“Sir,” said Felicien, addressing the
most important of the band, “1 sent
yesterday to the honest man for whom
we all mourn for live hundred francs,
which he was to discount to me to-day.
Will you be so obliging as to give them
to me ?”
“Impossible, sir. All the papers of
the deceased are being put under seal,
at the request of M. Lamest, his neph
ew, who stands before you.”
“ Your demand is at least singular,”
said the nephew, “my beloved uncle
was not a bill-broker, that I was aware
of.”
“ Your incredulous airs sire very en
tertaining,” responded Felicien ; “but
the best proof that your uncle did not
disdain to discount my paper is found in
a letter signed by his own hand, in
which he has taken care to notify me I
of his conditions. Would? you like to i
know them - .' Three hundred francs for 1
advance interest, with boxes at the I
theatre for himself, and tickets at the |
opera ball for you, whose assumed ig
norance at least challenges doubt.”
»• Ah, wretch! you insult the memo
ry of my good uncle ! While I live I
will not allow it!” roared the nephew,
ami falling upon Felician, he knocked
him down with a blow of lib fist.
took his hand ; it was icy cold ; she fell
upon him ; he was dead ! The doctor
is here, and he assures her that her hus
band lias fallen victim to heart disease,
aud that his death took place twelve
hours ago.”
Felicien consulted hU watch ; it in-
dicated noon exactly. His hair stood
on end in terror.
“And my coat?” said he, hesitatingly.
“I must refer you to madarae,” re
plied the clerk.
Deep as was her grief, the widow rec
ognized Felicien ; she remembered him
only too well!
“Ah! it is you,” she said, wiping
away her tears; “you ask foryourblack
coat. And your one huudred and fifty
francs, where are they? You have
them not? Very well; I shall keep
the coat. In fact, I have it already dis
posed of to a customer just your size—
one who settles his accounts; it is all
clear gain. My husband —may God
rest his soul!—had one fault, aud that
was a serious one, a capital vice—he
was too confiding, lie gave credit at
random to a penniless puck of knaves.
I do not say this to you any more than
to others ; but you will understand me.
For myself, I am a widow, with four
babes dependent on me, and I find
money is necessary to meet my bills
and support my family. You owe us
four hundred francs. Be3olve to make
me wait for them, and you shall see if
there are no officers { n Paris!”
Thus spoke she. The tailor might
have been prevailed upon to let tbe
coat go, but his widow was unmanage
able. In money matters women are
simply brutal. One can always softeu
a creditor if a man; if a woman,
never!
Felicien retired abashed and hum
bled.
“ Is this truly all I have gained in
the sudden deaths of these two men ?”
paid he with anguish.
Meanwhile the hour was rapidly ap
proaching set by M. the Director for
the official inspection of the employees
of his office. Where was he to find a
draescoat?
Paris would be incomplete as a city—
unworthy, above all, of her universal
renown—if one could not find there
precisely the things and the men for
which one seeks in vain in other
cities in the five quarters of the
world. For my part, I do not be
lieve that there exists'in anyothercap
ital a shop to be compared with that
which an igenious and well advised
salesman has established in the Passage
Brady. For the consideration of five
franc 3, paid in advauce, this shopkeeper
will hire out, for twenty four hours,
complete costumes suited for any and
all occasions. Black coat, black .pan ta
loons, white waistcoat —nothing wi.l be
lacking. Those who pay eight francs,
receive, in addition, a bat Dearly new,
and boots shiniogas if they bad received
a coat of varnish. One can dress him
self in the little room in the rear of tne
shop. The stock of the house is com
plete. All figures, all hearts, all feet,
and all tastes cau be suited.
Felicien, who knew his native city as
a coachman knows his cabriolet, set for
ward toward the Passage Brady. There
he was offered the costume of a god
father, brushed to look like new,which
fitted himmarvelously well. But when
came the moment for payment, he rum
maged all bis pockets, added up all his
resources, and found it was impossible
to collect more than twenty-seven sou 3.
For an instant he thought heyet might
save himself.
“I will take only the coat and return
it to you in an hour,” said he to the
shopkeeper. “In giving you one franc
twenty-live centimes, I pay dearer than
those who, for five francs, take the com
plete suit and keep it for a day and a
night. Consider, too, that it is used for
a call - a short New Year’s call, scarcely
three minutes Jong, and not for a dinner
ora ball, where your property is exposed
to all sorts of accidents. A stain is so
easily made ! a rent comes so quickly !
—without counting that dinners and
dancers perspire so profusely and soil
the immaculate whiteness of you lin
ings. ’ ’
Useless logic—lost eloquence. The
shopkeeper did not lend his ear. He
would abate nothing from the price
affixed upon his lists, and Felicien went
away as he came. J am wrong—he went
away sadder than he came.
He awoke with aslart, punting, pale
with fright, drenched in perspiration.
“Thank Heaven!” cried he; “it is
ouly adream! May I-leaveu,” headded,
“keep under its especial protection the
precious life of M. Yaillanl, of M. Dn
rand, and, above ail, that of M. Dela
none, the promised husband of Madame
Desgranges.” —Once a Month.
patrimony Among Children.
The I’nnelon (Illinois) Republican has the
following
“Cue day lust week a company of mov
ers, comprising four teams, halted on Main
street. In one of tho wagons we noticed a
youthful couple, whom we supposed to bo
brother and sister; aud we inquired their
destination, and where they came from.—
The youugman replied that they were going
to settle in lowa, somewhere near
Moines, and that they were from I'e Kalb
county. At this point of the conversa
tion an oldish-looking gentleman came
out of the grocery and handed the young,
man a package, remarking, “Ho guessed
that ought to serve two such young ducks
as they were until they reached liock Is
land.” The girl blushed and said “It was
just like Dan, he bad to tell everybody be
case she was married.” “Neve** mind,
honey,” replied the young, man soothingly,
“ibe men always like to make fun at the
women’s expense.” We then resumed tho
conversation by asking him his name and
age. He replied that he was sixteen
years old; that his wife, Hannah, wa3
fourteen; and that his name was Hen
ry Miller. The “ icc being broken” he
became very communicative, informing
us umoDg other things that he had
only been married one week: and his
father-in-law having fitted him out with a
team and §5OO in cash, he was going to make
bis fortune by buying a new farm in a new
country. Hannah then put on her pret
tiest smile and said “ that was the way her
father had made his money—buying new
land and improvingit—and she knew Hen
ry could do as well as he did.” Henry be
ing thus complemented, stroked the place
on his chin whore he expected to raise a
crop of whiskers: and, the teams before
having started, he gently slipped his arm
around Hannah’s waist ? bid us good by,
i and went on his way rejoicing.
LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING NOVEMBER 17 1869
TUB BYRON MYhTERY.
Sirs. Stowo E-emo Ishctf I
We clip from the London Quar•
tcrly Review , the following extracts
from a very able article, which atterly
demolishes Mrs. Stowe’s vile charge
against Lord Byron.
* * * * * *
The Review publishes, for the firsttime,
the following letters from Lady Byron
to Mrs. Leigh. The first, says the Re
view, not dated, was evidently written
by Lady Bvron in January, 1816, short
ly before she left for Kirby Mallory, her
sister-in-law then being under the same
roof with her. Mrs. Leigh remained
with Lord Byron in Piccadilly for sev
eral weeks after the departure of Lady
Byron. It will be seen that these let
ters conclusively prove that Mrs. Stowe’s
story about Byron’s relations with bis
sister, Mrs. Leigh, is absolutely false.
It is impossible for any one to believe
that Lady Byron could write Buch
letters to Mrs. Leigh, believing at the
same time that sh£ was guilty of inceat
with Lord Byron : 4
“You will think me very l'oolisb, but I
have tried two or three times and cannot
talk toyou of your departure with a decent
visage so let me say one word in this way,
to spare my philosophy. With the expecta
tions which I have, I never will nor can ask
you to stay one moment longer than you
aie inclined to do. It would [bej the worst
return for all I ever received from you.—
But, in this at least, I am *• troth itself”
when I say that whatever the situation
may be, there is no one whose society is
deafer to me, or can contribute more to my
happiness. These feelings will not change
under any circumstances, and I should be
grieved if you did not understand them.
Should you hereafter condemn me, I shall
Dot love you less. I will say no more.
Judge for yourself about going or staying.
I wish you to consider yourself, if you could
be wise enough to do that for the first time
in your life
‘Thine,
“ Addressed on the cover
Mrs. Leigh.’
1 KißitY, Mallory, Jan. 10, 1810,
(The day after she left London.)
“•My Dearest A.: Itis my great coni
fort that y>u are in Piccadilly.’
“ Kirby Mallory, Jan. 23, ISI6.
“ ' Dearest A. : 1 know you feel lor me
as I do for vou, and perhaps I am better
understood *thau I think. You have been,
ever since I knew you, my best comforter,
and will so remain, unless you grow tired
of the office, which may well be.”
“ ‘ January 25,151 G.
“‘My Dearest Augusta: Shall I still
be your sister? 1 must resign my rights to
be so considered ; but I don’t think that will
make any difference In the kindness I have
so uniformly experienced from you.’
“ ‘Kirby Mallory,Februa6i£4' 1816.
“‘My Dearest Augusta : You are de
sired by your brother to ask if my father
has acted with my coucnrrence in propos
ing a separation. He has. It canuot be
supposed that, in my present distressing
situation, I am capable of stating in a de
tailed manner the reasons which will not
justify ibis measure, but compel me to take
it; aud it never can be my wish to remem
ber unnecessarily (st'c) those injuries for
wliicu, however deep, I feel no resentment.
I will now only recall to Lord Byron’s
ruiud his avowed aud insurmountable
aversion to the married state, and the
desire and determination he has ex
pressed ever since its commencement
to free himself from that bondage, as find
ing it quite insupportable, though candidly
acknowledging that no effort ol duty or
affection has been wanting on my part. He
has too painfully convinced me that all
these attempts to contribute toward his
happiness were wholly useless, aud most
unwelcome to him. I inclose this letter to
my father, wishing it to receive his sauc
tion.
Ever yours most affectionately,
“A. I. Byron.
“ ‘February -1, 1816.
“•I hope, my dear A , that vou would
on no account withhold from your brother
the letter which I sent yesterday, in an
swer to yours written by his desire ; par
ticularly as oue I have received from him
self to day, renders it still more important
that he should know tbe contents of that
addressed to you. I am in haste, and not
very well, yours most affectionately.
J ’ “A. I. Byron.’
“ ‘Kirby Mallory, Feb. 14,151 G.
“‘The preseui sutleriugs of all may yet
be repaid ia blessiugs. Do not despair ab
solutely, dearest; aud leave me but enough
ol your interest to atford you any consola
tion, by partaking of that sorrow which I
urn most unhappy to cause thus uoinien
tiouallv. You will be of my opinion here
atter, audnt presentyour bitterest reproach
would be\jrgiveu ; though Heaven knows
you have considered me more than a thou
sand would have done—more than any
thing but my uffection for B , one most dear
to you, could deserve. I must not remem
ber these feelings. Farewell! God bless
vou from thu bottom of my heart.
J ’ •“ a. i. b; ”
Few who ever heard of Lady Anne
Barnard, her intellectual qualifications
and her social position, will deny that
her report of conversations with Lady
Byron in ISIG, directly after the separa
tion, on its cause or causes, is better de
serving of attention than Mrs. Beecher
Stowe's account of communications ou
the same subject thirty years after
wards. Lady Aune writes :
Tho separation of Lord and Lady Byron
astonished the world, which believod him
a reformed man as to his habits, and a be
calmed man us to his remorses. At that
period a severe fit of illness had confined
me to bed for two mouths. I heard of Lady
Byron’s distress ; of the pains he took to
give a harsh imprest >:i m her character to
the world. 1 wro.c to her, and entreated
her to come and let me see and hear her,
if she coueeivfd my sympathy or counsel
could be of any comfort to her. She came ;
but what a tale was unfolded by this inter- ,
eating young creature who had so fondly :
hoped to have made a young man of geni
us and romance (as she supposed) happy !
They hud not been an hour in the carriage
which conveyed them from the church
when, breaking into a malignant sneer,
‘•Oh! what a dupe you have beeu to your im
agination. llow is it possible a woman of
your sense could form the wild hope ol re
i forming me * Many are the tears you will
i have to shed ere that plan isaceomplistaed.
llt is euough for mo that you are my wife
i for me to hate you : if you were the wife
, of any other man I own you might have
i charms,” Ac. I, who listened, wa*» aston
! ished. “ How could you go ou ul. jt this,”
| said I, “ my dear? Why did you not re
i turn to your father’s?” ‘'Because I had not
i a conception he was in earnest; because I
! reckoned it a bad jest, and told him so—
that my opinions of him were different from
his of himself, olhcnvisc he would not find me
by his side. He laughed it over when he
saw me appear hurt, and I forget what
had passed till forced to remember it. I
believe he was pleased w’ith me, too, lor a
little while. 1 supposed it had escaped his
memory that I was his wife.” But she de
scribed the happiuess they eDjoyed to have
j been unequal uud perturbed. Her situa-
I lion in a short time might have entitled her
| to some tenderness, but she made no claim
|on him for any. He sometimes reproached
1 her for the motives that had induced her to
I marry .him—all was “ vanity, the vauity
1 of Miss' Millbaoke carrying the poißt ot re
j formiug Lord Byron ! He always knew
I her inducements ; her pride shut her eyes to
I/us; he wished to build up his character
j and his fortune; both were somewhat de
' ranged; she had a high Dame and would
have a fortune worth his attention—let her
look to that for his motives.” “ O Byron,
Byron!” she said, “how you desolate
me !”
Ho would then accuse himself of being
mad, and throw himself on the groand in
a frenzy, which she believed was affected to
conceal the coldness and mnlignity of his
heart—an affectation which at that time
never failed to meet with the tenderest
commiseration. I could tind by some im-
plications not followed up by me leßt she
might have condemned herself afterwards
for her involuntary disclosures, that be
sbon attempted to corrupt her principles
both with respect to her own conduct and
her latitude for his. She saw the precipice
on which she stood, and kept his sister with
her as much as possible. He returned in the
evenings from the haunts of vice, where he
made her understand be had been, with
manners so profligate ! “O, the wretch !”
said I, “and had he no moments of re
morse ?’’ “Sometimes he appeared to have
them. One night, coming home from one
of his lawless parties, he saw me so indig
nantly collected, and bearing all with such
a determined calmness, that a rush of re
morse seemed to come over him; he
called himself a monster, though his
sisler was present, and threw him
self in ugoDy at my feet. * I could
not—no—l could not forgive him such in
juries. He bad lost me forever !’ Aston
ished at the return of yirtne, my tears, I
believe, flowed over his face, and I said,
‘ Byron, all is forgotten ; never, never shall
you hear or it more.’ He started np, and,
folding his arms while he looked at me,
burst into laughter. ‘ What do you mean T
said I. ‘ Only a philosophical experiment,
that’s all,’said he; ‘ I wished to ascertain
the value of yoar resolutions.’ ” I need
not say more of this prince of daplicity,
except that varied wore his methods of ren
dering her wretched, even to the last. When
lovely little child was bom, and it was
laid beside its mother on the bed, and he
was informed “he might see his daughter,”
after gazing at it with an exulting smile,
this was the ejaculation that broke from
him, “Obi what au implement of torture
have 1 acquired in you!”
This, we should have thought, com
pletely disposes of the apeeihe charge,
| and must be taken with many grains
of allowance in its bearing on the gen-
eral one. Byron admitted that his wife,
who never would or conld understand
him, might well have mistaken nis
mystifications (for which he had a mor
bid fancy) forinaanity. But the obvious
conree, after having been taken in once
or twice, was to let him see that he was
Dlavine the fool to no purpose and to
laugh at him. She should have gone
on asshe began, when she told him that
he was guilty of a bad jest. She might
have said, an old oue, for it was a
French roue of tbe ante-revolutionary
period Lauzun or Biehelieu,who said ol
his wife a month after his marriage, it
she was another man’s wife, how fond
I shonld still be of her!” Byron was
annoyed atfindiDg that the lady’s maid
was to travel in the same carriage; but
tbe expression of annoyance on that
account was the reverse of offensive,
and the presence of the abigait (if she
was present) affords an uuauswerable
presumption that he said nothing of the
kind attributed to him. (c)
Again, may not the ejaculation that
broke from him on tbe firet sight of his
child have been identical with the re
flection in his journal, “What a torture
she may be to me ?” Or he may have
meant nothing more than what he said
of his cousin’s child, “She will grow up
a beauty aud a plague.” A jest’s pros
perity lie 3 in the ear of him who hears
it. Lady Byron hadno taste for jesting
at any time, and, with all her show ol
candor, did not spars him in the relation
of her wrongs. In the case of any other
woman she or her friends would have
been asked to explain why she kept her
father and mother persistently in the
dark ? Why she reserved a part of her
case from “even" them ? Why she Bent
her mother to London imperfectly in
structed? Why she pursued a course a
thousand times more damaging and an
noying to Lord Byron than a direct and
open charge? And (above ail) why she
persisted in making a myßtery of her
specific charge until bis death, his sis
ter's death the destruction of his auto
biography (in which she concurred)
aud the lapse of time had destroyed all
or most of the direct evidence in refuta
tion of it? What she must have told
her parents was more likely to shock
and alarm them on her account than
what she is asserted to have kept back.
We cannot so much as imagine any
thing that might be told to Dr. Lush
iugton and not be told to them; and
when she says in effect that if the iu
sanity had been established she would
not have resisted a reconciliation on his
recovery, she implies that in such a con
tingency the specific crime (whatever it
was) would not have prevented her from
returning to him.
ut * * w w tv- *
A. I. B.
To tbe Hon.
Dr. Lushington, R 3 we have said, re
garding what passed between Lady
Byron aud himself as a matter of pro
fessional eoulidence, states that he never
has revealed what passed aud never
will. But surely the obligation to secrecy
has been virtually cancelled by Lady
Byron, who, during the last ten years of
her life, had made no scruple of repeat
ing the charge right and left to almost
anybody who chose to listen to it. The
following letter is one of many to • .e
same purport that have been
to the newspapers
To the Editor of the Pall Mall Gazette
fcjjß—Lady Noel Byron resided, on aud
off, many years in Brighton, and her circle
of friends coincided very closely with my
own. For most of these years I hoard but
of one crime of which she accused her dead
husband, but latterly of two which need not
be named. Six or seven persons more or
less known to me received hercommunica
tions, three of whom were Americans. Her
communications were Dot given as secrets,
but, on the contrarv, as facts to be used for
the defence of her conduct, character, or
memory. Some of these persons received
them as Mrs. Beecher Stowo did—tbe Rev.
Frederick Robertson for one; others thought
“ her mind was touched upon the subject of
the separation.” In 1547 one of her best
friends asked me to talk with her on the
liabilities to error of private judgment when
deciding questions involving criminal
charges which can be properly investigated
only by public tribunals. No one, 1 told
her, bad a right to repeat such charges, ex
cept as decisions of c- urts of law. Her
stories differed. Here narratives and
memoranda were given away, light and
left. The confidants who knew her best,
her peculiarities, her troubles with her
daughter, her elder grandson, her servants,
never would have repeated her stories with
pens aud types. They thought her mind
was touched. Suspicions had become de
lusions. Three of her friends, myselfbeing
one, came separately to this conclusion. The
sealed papers held by her trustees, if they
contain the accusations she made, can only
be records of her delusions ; for the charge
she made most frequently is not capable of
proof, and the charge Mrs. Stowe has pub
lished is comparatively receut and utterly
incredible. John Robertson.
12 Norfolk Road, Sept. 12, INiJ.
The liev. Frauds Trench, after slat-
ing, first, his conviction that any public
revelation of the kind recently made
would have been deemed most objec
tionable by Lady Byron herself, pro
ceeds in a letter to the Times
Secondly, it is desirable to obviate the
impression that Mrs. Beecher Stowe was
anything like an exclusive or even raro de
positary of the statement which she has
made, so as to obtain any title to publica
tion on this ueeouut. At many successive
periods Lady Noel Byron had fully stated
the cause of her separation to many of her
relatives aud iulimdte friends. But in all
these instances she knew whom she could
trust; and, so far as I know, not ono of
them, much to their houor, judgment aud
propriety, has broken that profound silence
and secrecy which, so far as the public is
concerned, should have been continued
forever.
A secret is no loDger a secret when it
is told at successive periods to mauy
relatives and friends; and whatever
liberties Lady Byron might take with
Lord Byron’s character, we do not re
cognize her right (except as an angel
or on the angelic theory) to whisper
away Mrs. Leigh’s. Mr. Trench, in a
subsequent letter, disputes Mr. Robert
son’s conclusion that Lady Byron was
acting under adelusion ; butsurely this
is the more charitable hypothesis, when
we consider the frequency with which
her damning revelations were volun
teered, the extent to which theydiffered
from one another and the variations
with which the main charge was occa-
sionally dished up. The story told as
coming from her by a lady of unim
peachable veracity was this: “That
not only had Lord Byron confessed the
charge, butthatthe partner of hisguilt,
on the faith of a promise to be spared
exposure, had delivered to Lady Byron
a written and signed confession, which
Lady Byron had forthwith deposited
with the Lord Chancellor (Eldon) as a
bar to an v future proceedings that might
be taken by Lord Byron to obtain the
custody of his daughter.” There can
be no mistake in this instance, so far as
our information is concerned. We are
convinced that it was her story (or
rather one of her stories), and, “like
Aaron’s serpent, swallows up the rest.”
To expatiate on its improbability would
be to insult the reader's understanding.
A written expression to avoid exposure
or punishment would only be given
when there was overwhelming evidence
to convict. Judgaa are not in the habit
of receiving ex parte statements in non*
existingsuits. Lady Byron, by her own
showing, broke faith. In all her other
versions, so far as we are acquainted
with them, she relies on what she calls
Lord Byron’s confession, and makes not
the remotest allusion to Mrs. Leigh’s.
The story of the confession was cer
tainly told prior to ISSI. It is impossi
ble to fix precisely when Lady Byion
threw off all restraint in her communi
cations, as described by Mr. Robertson
and Mr. Trench. In a letter to Miss
(the Hon. Amelia) Murray in IS2O she
writes: —“I hope to leave this world
without having said a word that could
damage anybody, so I must let people
say what they will of me.” Her tongue,
like Conrad’s sabre, “ made fast atone
ment for its first delay:” and surely
somebody was damaged by her words,
oral and written, in 1810, or still more
cruelly by ,
The Insignificant eye
Which learns to wound with silenc3.
Was not her husband damaged by her
words when (in the September of that
year) he wrote :
The means were worthy and the end la won;
I would not do by thee as thou hast done.
Mr. Wm. Howitt, who had known
her intimately, gives the following in
stance of “a constitutional idiosyncrasy
of a most peculiar kind, which rendered
her, when under its influence, absolute
ly and persistently unjust:”
She was in great difficulty as to the selec
tion of a master for her working school at
Kirby Mallory. It was necessary for him
to unite the very rarely united qualities of
a thoroughly practical knowledge of the
operations of agriculture and gardening
with the education and information of an
accomplished school master. Sheasked me
to try and discover this rare, avia for her. I
knew exactly such a man in Nottingham*
1 shire, who wasatthe same time thoroughly
• honorable, trustworthy and fond of teaoh*
log. At her earnest request I prevailed (n
him to give up bis then comfortable post
lion and accept her offer. For a time he
was everything in her eyes that a man and
a schoolmaster could be. She was contin
ually epeaking of him when we met in the
roost cordial terms. Butin the course, as
I remember, of two or three years the poor
fellow wrote to me in the utmost distress,
saying that Lady Byron, without the slight
est intimation of being in nuy way dissat
isfied with him or with his management of
the school, bad given him notice to quit.—
He had entreated her to let him know what
was the'cause of this sudden dismissal.
She refused to give any, and he entreated
me to write to her and endeavor to remove
her displeasure, or to usceilain its cause. I
felt, from what I had seen of Lady Byron
before, that it was useless. I wrote to him,
‘ Remember Lord Byron ! If Lady Byron
has taken it into her head that you shall go
nothing will turn her. Go you must, and
you had better prepare for it.” And the
poor fellow, with a family of about G\e
children and his situation tilled up, was
turnod out into the world to'comparative
ruin.
One morning Lady Byron requested
the attendance of the clergy man of Ham.
He came obedient to her summous, and
she immediately proceeded to expatiate
on her unremitting kindues9 to her
grand eon (Lord Ockham, now, deceas
ed), the ungrateful return she had re
ceived, and the infinity he
had given her. After she hatTYun on
in this strain till she had fairly run her
self out, the clergyman ventured to sug
gest that he did not see how he could be
of auy use co her uuder the circumstan
ces ; a proposition to which she assented,
and then stiffly bowed him out. The
pleasure of hearing herself talk on her
own merits and sacrifices was apparent -
)y her sole motive in sending for him.
The solicitors of the representatives
of Lady Byron have addres-ed a letter
to the Times (September 2) distinctly
repudiating and discrediting Mrs.
Beecher Stowe,and stating that all Lady
Byron’s manuscripts have been left to
three trustees, who alone are authorized
to makeuseofthem* asmightbejudged
best for the interests of her grandchild
ren.”
Lord Wentworth, who wriLes under
eyident restraint and embarrassment —
as well he may, considering his conflict
ing obligations to the memories of his
maternal grandfather aud grand
mother —has addressed a letter to the
Pall Mall Gazelle, in which he says:
About three years ago a manuscript in
Lady Noel Byron’s handwriting was found
among her papers, giving an account of
some circumstances connected with her
marriage, aud apparently intended for
publication after her death ; but as this
seemed not quite certain, no decision as to
its publication was come to. In the event
of a memoir being written, this manuscript
might, perhaps be included, but hitherto it
has not beeu proposed to publish any other
matter about her separation.
This statement iu Lady Byron’s own
handwriting does not contain any accusa
tion of so grave a nature as that which
Mrs. Stowe asserts was told her, and Mrs.
Siowti's story of the separation is incon
sistent with what i have seen in various
letters, etc., of Lady Byron’s.
From this recapitulation it will be
seen how matters stood when Mrs.
BpecherStowe appeared upon the scene,
and what are the real objections she has
to meet. That Lady Byron repeated the
charge to her is no justification or apol*
ogy at all. Bhe would have found on
inquiry, if she did not know already,
that she was one among many deposi
taries of the supposed secret; that, in
point of fact, it was no secret at all; that,
instead of trusting to an Americau lady
of whom she knew comparatively little,
Lady Byron had made careful provision
for the posthumous vindication of her
fame. Before taking aDy step in the
matter, Mrs. BeecherStoweshould have
placed herself in communication with
the family. If, in defiance of all rules
of propriety and taste, she was resolved
on printing her story, she should have
beeu severaly simple in herstatemenis,
scrupulously accurate in her facts; reso
1 lutely self-denying in her comments
and inferences. She has been the ex
, act contrary; and the story in her ver
! sion is so colored, amplified and overlaid
! that it is utterly impossible todistiu
; guish what rests on Lady Byron's au
thority from what has been added on
other or no authority by Mrs. Stowe.
The truthful aud probable bears about
the same proportion to the fanciful anil
improbable that FalstafFs bread bore to
his sack; and if the charge rested exclu
sively ou her article we should have
adopted a much more suceinctand sum
mary mode of dealing with it.
t * * ~
The improbabilities of Mrs. Beecher
Stowe's drama thickeu with the plot
and culminate in the catastrophe. After
quoting and inis-describing Lady By
ron’s “remarks” of 1830, which she calls
a letter, she goes on :
Nothing more than this letter from Lady
Byron is necessary to substantiate the fact
that she did not leave her husband, but was
dnVcufrom him—driven from him that he
might iollow out the guilty infatuation
that was consuming him, without being
tortured by hei imploring face and by the
silent power of her presence and her pray
ers in his bouse.
for a long timo before this she had seen
little of him. On tho day of her departure
she passed by the door of his room, and
stopped to caress his favorite spauiel which
was lying there; and she conferred t > n
friend tho weakness of fooling a willingness
to be something us humble as that poor
little creature, might she only bo allowed
!to remain anti wuteh over hitn. She went
into the room where he ami the partner oi
his sins were sitting together, Hnd said,
“ Bvrmi, I come to say goodby, : ’ ojl'erint/
at the same time her hand.
Lord Byron put his bands behind him,
retreated 10 the mantelpiece, and looking
uround on the tvyo that stood there, with a
sarcastic smile paid, “ Wheu shall we three
meet again ? ’
Lady Byron answered, *' In heaven, I
trust.” And those wore her lust wurds to
him on earth.
Iti3 wonderful that even a seusatioual
novelist should risk her reputathm
upon such incongruities. Inteudiug to
endow her heroine with alihumau aud
some superhuman virtues she has for
gotten a qualily essential to the true
dignity of the sex. She has forgotten
to endow her with self-respect. To
represent her living for years or months
on the same footing with Lord Byron
and Mrs. Leigh, after the disclosure or
discovery, or as much as tolerating Mrs.
Leigh uuder her roof, was bad enough
in all conscience, but to introduce tier
seeking them out to take a kindly fare
well aud give them a rendezvous iu
heaven, would excite contempt if itdid
not inspire incredulity. The scene is a
moral impossibility. ,
Again, in one paragraph it is stated
that the reactionof society brokeup the
guilty intrigue ; in auother that Lady
Byron made it a condition that the un
happy partner of his sins should not
fol.ow him out of England, and that the
ruinous intrigue should be given up.
The fact is, nothmgexistiug was broken
up at all ; there was never a thought of
Mrs. Leigh’s leaving England, with or
without him; but she remained with
him at Lady Byron’s request, and their
correspondence {as we have shown) con
tinued unaltered till his death, and his
tenderest verses were addressed to her,
•when, according to Mrs. Beechers
Stowe's theory, “Oh, no, we never
mention her,’ 7 should have been the
burden of his song. The time for mak
ing the one condition (which was never
made) was when the revelation came
“ in a manner which left no kind of
room for doubt.”
“ She had him in her power, and he
stood at her mercy! ” Yet it was he
who turned her out of doors, refused to
take her proffered hand, kept the greater
part of her fortune to him-.elf, com
plained bitterly of her not speaking out,
defied-her, ridiculed her, insulted her,
and by the frequency of his domestic
revelations in prose and verse provoked
Curran’s sarcasm that “ he wept for the
press and wiped his eyes with the pub
lic.” . . ..
The audacity of misrepresentation
cannot be pushed farther than in the
following passage
On his death bed it is well known that he
called his confidential English servant to
him and said to him, “ Go to my wife and
tell her * * * ”
Here followed twenty minutes of indis
tiact muttering?, in which the name of his
wife, daughter and sister frequently oc
curred. Suddenly he turned aud said,
“ You will tell her all thi3—have you writ
ten it down? ”
“ My lord,” said his attendant, “ I really
have not understood a word you have been
saying.”
“ 0 God ! ” said the dying man, ” then it
is too late! ” and he never spoke more.
The authentic report (Fletcher’s) runs
thus
On the same day, when he knew that be
was dying, ho was most anxious to make
Fletcher this old servant) understand his
last wishes. The, servant asked whether
he should bring pen and paper to takedown
his words, “Oh, no,” he said, “it is now
nearly over. Qo to my sister—tell her. Go
to Lady Byron ; yon will Bee her, and say
J3is voice faltered. and he contin
ued to mutter to himself for nearly twenty
micnte3 with much earnestness of manner,
but in such a tone that only a few words
could be distinguished. These too were
only names.—“ Augusta,” “Ada,” “Hob
house,” “Kinnaird." Hethensaid, “Now
I baye told you all.” "My lord,” said
Fletcher, “I have not understood a word
your lordship has been saying.” “ Not
uuderstand me?” exclaimed Byron, with a
look of the utmost distress ; ** what a pity !
Then it is too late ; all is over.” “I hope
no',” answered FMcber, “but the Lord’s
will le donV’ “Yes; not mine,” said
Byrou. He then tried to utter a lew words
of which none wereintelligibleexcept “My
sister—my cAt'W.”
That the'wild turkey id migratory is
totally erroneous. They certainly do
change their residences, but this Is in*
variably caused by want of food in the
old locality they inhabited, or a super
abundance being obtainable elsewhere.
Iu a country of such gigantic magnitude
as America such frequently occurs, and
the influx of these birds into the tem
porarily productive neighborhood is
often wonderfully numerous. From
north, southeast and west they steadily
push for the goal, aud with such inde
fatigable perseverance that frequently
on their arrival they are so prostrated
by fatigue that they fall au easy prey to
sticks and stones hurled at them by
youngsters aud farm laborers.
On these traveling expeditions their
legs are made use of as the principal
means of locomotion; but if a largo aud
widestream should iuterveue. then they
ascend to the highest limbs of the mar
ginal trees, from whence they wing
their way to the other side. On such
occasions it is not unusual for some of
the young birds to fall into the river,
but they are excellent and rapid swim
mers, aud soon regain trrra firma.
After performing such a crossing as
above narrated, whether it be as a man
ner of testifying their pleasure iu suc
cessfully accomplishing a diflicull task
I caunot say, but all appear temporarily
seized with madness. They rush about
flap their wings, spring into the air, anil
perform a number of absurd antics quite
ludicrous to the beholder. The birds of
prey at this time are particularly atteu
live to the effete and wornout, or to those
whom au accident, such as the breaking
of a limb, may have weakened.
On the bauks of the Wabash, near its
confluence with the White River, I
witnessed two hawks make a most de
termined assault upon a very large
gobbler. The struggle was fiercely
waged for nearly a quarter ot an
hour. The turkey lought willi
determined gallantry,and several times, .
although oue or other of the lords <> r
prey lixed itself upon its intended vie- ,
tim’s back, he mauaged to shake them j
ofl', but from being pinioned he must l
ultimately have succumbed had I not ,
interfered to save the veteran.
In Southern Illinois I resided for
some time upon a rise of hilly laud ;
this tableau was übout a mile and u
quarter long, and nearly a mile wide ;
it was intersected by ravines and water
courses, the whole being covered with
heavy timber aud brush, except liliy or
more acres cleared for the purpose of
cultivation. The surrounding country
for teu or more miles was a dead level
prairie subject toiuundation in Autumn
aDd Spring. When the tlat lands be
came overflowed, all game, far aud near,
concentrated on these heights that sur
rounded my residence. When such
took place, few men had such a splendid
preserve, or could show’ such a variety
of game in an hour’s tramp. Deer, wild
turkeys, Virginian partridge, prairie
fowl, hares, water fowl and even wood
cock would flush on all sides, while the
crafty fox, frolicksome raccoon, cunning
possum, plucky woodchuck aud hand
some coated minx, all flooded out of
their further retreats, glided or peeped
from behind logs and roots at the passer
by, anxious for their presence to remain
unknown. While residiog here, 1 had
• i i ,i Jan old hound, almost blind and perfect
tufkefthrmo“t T w^
j s"; £. r i
m their award,) viz . “ hMlJfl i ticulir good, once laid on a trail lie
the largest, it is without doubt the tin- „ not f orsa , ie it. The first day after
tst of all the Gallinaceans for table use, j water hali r j 9eni with him as com
again, it is almost always in condition, . j weu t out to get some venison ;
and lastly from their wariness, and the j f I m j nu t e s' walk the houud struck
difficulty to approach and afierwards troil aull not beill g possessed from his
shoot them, brum its hem,, exceeding ] OKe with greater speed than Icould keep
ly swift aud c| ever on _ th ®| i if? L lcTin'v lup with, X followed in close attendance,
as strong on the wing, alike’select g ' had buckshot iu each barrel;
timber or ground for its retreats, every y h , .. , we descended t 0 the
sense of the sportsman must be oni the marcjn of tbe water whe[l> from among
ey sfius h e d , U an til* tho ?or-
tune** ‘
ertiug alibis skill, return nt night un- brace with my left barrel,
successful, heart-sick aud footsore, al- Ou a particularly wet day in the
though his range had been through a month of November I weut on horse
beat known to abound with the desired back to see what was going on among
<rarae> the game that frequented a piece ot
° The male bird, which is always the heavily-timbered bottom land a few
handsomer in plumage, is seldom over miles oil'. No frost thus far in the sea
twenty-four pounds, while the female bou bad occurred, so that the Indian
does not often exceed one-half this corn or maize was green aud ungather
weicht. The color of the feathers is a ed. Dripping from head to foot, by
sooty black, with a metallic lustrous coming iu contact with the wet brush,
shade perceptible on the breast, should- I was commencing to believe f “
era and back, which is seen in almost enthusiastic fool. The cow-path that 1
all lights. Their wings have a percep- followed led along the edge of a corn
tible mottled marking, as well as the field, one of those fields apparently
tail which sets ofl’ to advantage the cleared for a freak, or to denote posses
otherwise sombre hue of the body.— sion. tfor no residence was near. On
Their walk, when conscious of security, rising my eyes I perceived a turkey cock
is upright aud bold, and their demeau- come from the direction of the cornfield
or that of proud dignity ; but if alarm- and halt on the road ; a moment more a
ed should they run instead of taking second joined him, soou followed by
towing their necks are stretched for- others, till there were upwards of fit
ward and the body depressed, wheu teen or twenty. My nag I had reined
the rapidity with which they use their | up, and he stood as still as desired ; a
lees soon carries them beyond the range ' moment I kuew would put all to flight,
of vision. i and the horse 1 then strode would not
Their enemies are numerous, the fox, I permit me to shoot oil him. A snap
bav linx and great horned owl being ahot was all 1 could hope for; and how
the most dreaded ; at the same time the splendidly the birds were aligned, one
raccoon minx aud weasel, aud even beyond the other! A steady aim and
house dog, do not lose an opportunity of five or six must fall. Imperceptibly i
killing the wild turkey wheu occasion dropped my reinsaml got my gun reai.y
oilers. The domestic cat, which fre- for a sudden pitch to the shoulder;
nuentlv becomes wild from neglect or a gradually as this was done, my horse
rovimr disposition, may also be counted commenced to shake his head, a sign I
amou* their bitterest foes. All know well knew foretold that he was aware
what “havoc this diminutive tiger can of what was coming. At length, feeling
make in our home preserves: emigru- ready, up weut my guu, and up went
lion across the Atlantic has altered my horse ; the former sent the contents
either its disposition or lovoof carnage, of the barrel to heaven, the latter very
In the month of February or March nearly sent me to mother earth ; alight
the wild turkeys mate; the exact date seat saved mu the indignity. Rut my
is governed by latitude and the ad- troubles were not over; the horse gut
vance of the season ; the sexes remaiu Ids head down and dashed ofl’ through
ogether aboutsix weeks, when the hen 1 the wemis, until 1 recovered the reins
wauders oil’ from her lord to form a l and got a pull on his head,
nest and commence laying. The reuson | wus once my fortune to shoot a '
for this course of conduct is that t l, e j nurn jj t . r of turkeys over a favorite setter, 1
cock is a most unnatural sire, that his Aa iL i!S all utl usual occurrence for these
embryo progeny would not be safe if be j b i r( j d to lay iu front of a dog, I will nar
was cognizaut of their hiding place, so ! rale bow j t happened. In the western
the lady carefully secretes her material | p ort j on 0 f the .State of Missouri, I was
treasures from his view. The eggs vary ( re turuing oue eveniug
from ten to fifteen, according to the age ; p rair j e fowl in the month of October;
of the parent; after the full comple lbe aea3()U had been warm and mild,
ment has been laid, they are sat upon 1 consequently few of the leaves had yet
with the moat indefatigable persever- 1 f a jj etJ> As the huh dipped the western
auce, hunger alone compelling the bird horizon I reached the timber land on my
to leave her nest for a few’ minutes relurn home, with a heavy bag. On
daily, when she carefully covers all the . p a a a j uy r a shanty about a mile from my
eggs with dry leaves, tobidethem from | temporary residence, the occupant, a
the prying jays aud crows, ever ou the ! w hiuw, informed me that it was to be
qui rive to satisfy their appetites cn so j regretted that I had not beeu a few
dainty a repast. On return to the nest ■ Jnutes’ sooner, us .she hail seen a large
the hen turkey carefully removes aU j j| oc k o-f wild turkeys on the c-dge of her
the leaves, and agaiu reseats herself lor j diminutive garden; dismounting, I tied
four aud twenty hours. For four weeks ; U p m y horse aud the least reliable dog, ,
this monotonous duty continues, wlieu i taking the other, gave him the'
the little ones chip theirshell and burst j In a few moments he drew’ aud |
forth capable from the first of using came to a set; on advancing, a single l
iheir’legs and following their parents. pushed, which I cut down, and ere |
With the greatest tenderness and care | j bat j bagged one several were lj ing on
the little family are nurtured ; the most : tbe ground hors dc ••ombnt.
productive feeding grounds are sought j have heard of bimilarcircumstances
for their retreat, and every titbit that tTans . l j r j n n r but lam ltd to believe my
the experience of the old bird detects is j uc j. wa3 { . aU3tM i by the appearance of a
divided between her numerous pro- j hawk that was hovering io the
geny ; and should a suspicious or dan- .° - t
iisSSfllil
the heavy and cold Spring showed, and ia to cal them up by imitating the yelp
the nightly dews, nil rlceivo shelter ing of the female; a hone from oue of
under her ample wing*. By Septem- tlm bird's wings nr a olmcco pipe a
her the brood aretwo-thirds grown, aud generally employed lor the purpose |
oer ineuiuu .ipvtpritv select the shooter is well hid, often several,
fly with c lartre trees can beshot before they become alarmed.
Zeto U&temforthffr JosUngUce* Weil,. I was yelping as this perform- ,
There they sit in a row, apparently con- anco is familiarly culled , and, after i lu
scious of Safety, but the wakeful old exercise of considerable patience, quite |
lady hM not neglected to make use of a dozen old cocks made their appear- (
previous experience; her watchful eye ance. When within easy range, my
and ear ever remaiu on the alert, and rifle cut one of tho gallants o\ei, u hen
the approach of a hunter or a predatory 11,6 remainder of li s comrades attacked
anlmaF s notified to the children, who the struggling victim ami pecked nut
auiumi i» u .. . rrnn.l re- whatever of )ife might be ieft. ihe
too frequent y . . fury they displayed towards their com
ceive such mforma mu with apathy . tllo
ferocity wiLh >
About the period of tho year when whicblU assaulted him may bo more ■
the beech nuts commence to fall tie ea3 jjy imagined than described,
sexes reunite. At the same time, if a . .. . . ~ , .
hen has a sickly or backward child, A favorite foediug-jilneo of wild tur
with care and watchfulness she keeps it keys Is along the vnrluus linea of rail
close to herself, aud as far as possible road that bisect their liauuts I from the
from the old males. The food of the trucks quantities of grain pridmhly full,
wild turkey is composed of grain and doubtless the attractlou. X rnm esso
in,ects and fruits. Ait the wild berries c ation they become so accuslomed to
and many of the nuts are favorite diet, the train that, although the mnattlmld
but the papaw is supposed to be the of birds, they will do scarcely more tban
most attractive. If turkeys frequent a step out of the way to savo themselves
neighborhood, and there should be a from being run over,
grove of papaws near, at the time the In severe frosty weather, when enow
fruit is ripe the sportsman at morning covers the surface of the country, tur
and evening will not fail to be reward- keys will remain on tho roost tho entire
ed by several shots, if he secrete himself day. On such occasloua thoy select
with due attention to wind. Another the highest trees freo of bruuohea.—
attraction which Is irresistible to these When so situated, they are moro than
birds is the bean of the catalpa. This 1 usually suspicious of danger, aud tlio
Will Mrs. Beecher Stowe have the
goodness to explain why “Go to my
sister —tell her," the four names begin
ning with "Augusta," andhisconclud
ing words, "My sister, my child,” are
suppressed? or why “You will tell her
all this" is interpolated ? except to make
it appear that Lady Byron was the sole
object of his dying thoughts—which
•she was not, nor even the principal ob
ject—or to suggest (as would seem from
what goes before in the magazine) that
the message to her expressed repentance
for thecrimewhich liadseparated them.
It is difficult to conceive anything
more offensive or in worse taste than
the paragraphs relating to Lady Love
lace, or the wretched ciut by which
what ought to be a plain narrative is
defaced :
Aa a mother her (Lady Byron’s) course
was embarrassed by peculiar trials. Her
daughter Inherited from the father not ouly
brilliant talents, but a restlessness and mor
bid sensibility which might be too surely
traced to the storms and ogitutious of the
period in which she was born. It was neces
sary to bring her up in ignorance of the true
history of her mother's life, and tbo conse
quence was that she could not fully under
stand that mother. During her early girl
hood her career was a source of more anx
iety than of comforts.
In other words, Lady Byron did not
get on much better with her daughter
lhan with her husband or her eldest
grandson, aud for thesame reason. Sbe
could not understand characters so dif
ferent from her own. The daughter
learned euough of the family history to
come to tiie conclusion (which she de
cidedly expressed to Mr. Fonblanque)
that the sole cause of the separation was
incompatibility. It will not be forgot**
ten that she was christened Augusta
Ada.
The Wild Turkey.
When the continent of North Amer
ica was discovered, the wild turkey was
to be fouud in the greatest abundance
all over the country,, from the Gulf of
Mexico to the great lakes, and from
the Atlantic to the upper waters of the
eastward -flowing rivers. But at the pres
ent time, from the increase of popula
tion and the clearing up of wild laud,
the same causes which have ex term in at
edsome.and much reducedotber descrip
tions of game, the haunts of the wild
turkey have become much circum
scribed.
In the southern portion of the State of
Illinois, where timber still retrains
abundant, and where from the mild
ness of the seasons vegetation is re
markably dense, where on every baud
magnificent giant rivers intersect the
landscape, stilly and tranquilly -flowing
to the all-absorbing giant Mississippi,
this noble game is still to be found
abundaut. It was in this locality I
studied their habits, learned their ec
centricities, admired their cunning,
watching them day and night, till I al
most believed I knew the import of
every note uttered by the respective
sexes.
NUMBER 16
baautiful tree ia found in the vicinity
of nearly all water courses where repeat
ed inundations have left a deep al
luvial deposit. The bean, which re
sembles the locust, drops in Autumn,
as soon as the dry weather parches the
external covering, aud all the denizens
of the forest, whether bird-or beast,
hurry alike to eDjoy the luscious re
past.
BATE OF ADVERTISING.
JUBiaras 'ADvximsMxicre, 813 a year p<*
Snare of ten lines; $6 per year for eachac;*
ltlonol square.
EBTA.TX abvebsibxso, io conta'a line for.
the Ural, and 5 cents for each subsequent in-,
sertlon.
Advehtisino 7cents a lino for the
first, and 4 cents for each subsequent inser
tion.
Special Notices Inserted tn Local Column
15 cents per line.
Special Notices preceding marriages afid
deaths, 10 cents per lino for first insertion*
and 5 cents forevery subsequent insertion*!
LEGAL AKD OTHfcB NOTICES—
Executors' -.otlces..-..^....,-...
Administrators' notices, .
Assignees’ n0tice5.................
Auditors’ notices,
Other “Notices,'*ton lines, or less, „
three times,...— 1.50
sportsman may save himself the troublo
of endeavoriug to obtain a shot.
On the other band, if a favor!to roost
has been found out, visit it of a misty,
foggy night in Au turan when the moon
is full, and nearly all may be killed in
rotation, provided the lower birds are
sbot first.
Their manner of avoiding the attacks
of the great horned owl is novel in the
extreme. As I have never been eye
witness to their modus opcrandi under
such circumstances, I will duaorib-*
them from information I received. —
When the owl swoops at tho roosting
bird, the attacked throws its tall, ex
tended to full breadth, over its back and
leans forward ; the foe glances oft .this
inclined plain, and before tho assailant
has recovered himself the turkey has
dropped down from its perch into the
surrounding brush.
The male wild turkey is much covet
ed by breeders of poultry, as he is con
sidered more prolific and the producer
of a hardier race than the tamo bird;
also, the progeuy thusobtained grow to
an unusual size. In lowa I was struck
with the excessive weight of mauy of
the turkeys in a friend’s yard ; ull of
them he assured me, descended of a
wild father. — y. Y. Citizen.
Meeting ofFrcNbytcrlc.n Assemblies.
Pittsburg, Nov. 10.—Tho adjourned
meeting of the general nssem biles ot the Old
mid New School Presbyteriau churches
which mot in New York in May huve con
vened iu this city. In Iho Old School as
sembly tlu* proceedings were opened wnli
prayer by the moderator, Kuv. W. M.
Jacobus. The roll was called, and one hun
dred and eighty six cornmNsloners were
present. Atler devotional exercises it was
resolved that in ibe absence of principals al
ternates ba admitted to beats. l)r. Mils
grave moved that all rnuMers nqutring tho
concurrence of both assetnbli«H bo relerred
to the eommitleo on conference. Senator
Drake, of Missouri, read tho report ol cauii
mitiee appointed to investigate tlioditticul
ti« s in connection with the seminury of tho
northwest, at Chicago, congratulating tho
assembly ou its amicable adjustment.--
The report recommends that l)r. Willis S.
Ivord be retained in the M’Cormick chair
of systematic theology, uud that Cyrus G.
M’Ooruiiek bo released upon pay ment of
the fourth instalment of $2o.00l) of bis gilt
of SIOO,UUC to the institution, uud bo be re
garded us having lulliUed his obligation'--,
and that tho three trustees elected by tins
assembly bo requested to resign, and their
places filled by persons acceptable to all
parties. Dr. Musgruve, of tho joint com
mittee of union between the old school and
new school and tho united Presbyterian
churches, repoitod that tho meeting ol tho
eommilteo in Pittsburg iu August adjourn
ed sine dic r contrary to request, and that an
other meeting had boon asked by represen
tatives of tho old und now schools, but Dr.
Pressley declined 10 consent to any further
consultation on the subject. Tho following
resolutions were passed :
Ilcxolvcd, Thai rejoicing in the immedi
ate reunion of tho two Presoytorian bodies
so long sopemlod, wo would gladly hail a
Presbyteriau union embracing all brunches
; of tho Presbyterian family holding (n the
same confession of faith and form of gov
ernment.
Jteaolvetl, That until such desirable uuion
be accomplished wo will gladly welcome to
our church connecliou nil congregations,
pastors and members embracing doctrines
of confession.
Hexolvctl, That all uniting with us may
freely enjoy tbo privilege of using Mich
songs of praise to Almighty Clod us their
consciences dictate, as, iudeod, is already
allowed in the several congregations now
in our communion.
The new school general assembly met in
tho third church ami was called to order
by the moderator, Key, P. H. Fowler
After devotional exorcises the stated clerk
reported that tho whole numberof Presby
teries connected with tho body had voted
favorably with tho union, ouo hundred
unanimously and three with one dissent
ing vole each. Dr. Adams led the-prayer
of thanksgiving. A committee was ap
pointed to inform other assemblies of this
result. In tho afternoon session a small
amount of unfinished business of the May
session wus disposed of. In tho evening a
large union prayer meeting of two assem
blies was hold in tho third church.
Fire iu Camden, X. J
Pini.ADEi.rHiA, Nov. it.— l'urly this
morning a lire broke out in a row of nine
frame dwellings situated on Point street,
Camden. The buildings were the property
of Garrison, Gllliughuxh it Co., uud were
occupied by the hands workiug in the mill
of that timi. Tho lire was first discovered
in house No. 413, occupied by John Fox and
William Elliott. Tho cause ol tho lire is
supposed to huvo been a defective line. Tho
family, in their endeavera to slop the pro
gress of tho Humes, were nil more or less
burned; and when at last they found that
the buildingcould not bo saved, it was too
lato to remove the furniture, all of which
was lost. Mr. Elliott was badly burned,
also his wife and five children. His aged
mother was thrown from the second sloiy
' window, and received injuries and burns.
Sbo is so badly injured that her recovery is
not thought possible. Tho Harms spread
rapidly to the whole block, all of which is
a total wreck. It wan first discovered
about two o’clock and by five nothing re
mained.
Mr. Woodrow, residing at No. 410, It-j-t
Ibo whole of his furniture. Tho families in
the other houses escaped uninjured, ami
saved most of their property. Tho loss is
estimated to bo about $O,OOO, ono-hul I cover •
ed by insurance. The proprietors and citi
zens of Camden are taking every care ol
the sutrerers, and contributions tiro being
received for their relief. A tire in Camden
ut the present time may become very ex
tensive, the tire department being in 11 very
disorganized stato. Tho volunteer depart
ment is mostly disbanded, and the paid
department is not yet in working order.
()l the four volunteer companies only two
were In active service, one having sold
their carriage and another their hose. A
scarcity of water was also felt, owing to
the insuflicient siz-s of wutor pipes.
Tronblc Anionc Medical t- tudent*.
The Ledger has the following account of
a recent dilllctilty between male and female
medical students at the Pennsylvania Hos
pital in Philadelphia:
When tho classes were dismissed, rho
male students, numbering between two and
three hundred, left the lecture room in ad
vance of the ladies, and ranged tliemselvi-i
along the foot-walks leading trom the Hos
pital buildings, inside the enclosu’p, to tie*
Hrghth street gate. At this point, several
propositions were mudo by the male stu
dents to “give tho women three cheers '
when they should pass along, to “give
them a round of applause,” “to take oil'
I their bats,” <fcc., Ac. Soon after, the holies,
] to the number of about tweuly live, came
\ along, und us the mule students, number-
I lug about two hundred and lllty, occupied
ilm whole oi tho loot way on both sides, tho
ladies were compelled to take tho cartway.
As they passed modestly along over tho
rough cobble stones, the male Hiudents be
gan to “hurrah,” und Jeer and clap their
hands, and whiloengaged in this mock ap
plause, others hissed. To all this tho ladieu
paid no attention, but passed (juirtly
through tho gatekeeper’s lodge into Eighth
continued on towards Chestnut,
followed by a largo number of tho tnalo
students, who formed a mock procession
behind them for several blocks. It should
be added ibat a gentleman connected with
tho Hospital—ono of the faculty, it was un
derstood—made an earnest ellbrt to stop the
discreditable proceedings ol tho male stu
dents, but thoseuclively engaged in annoy
ing the ladies paid no attention whatever
to his appeals.
Jfwl»h rroßrrm.
The result of the Jewish Rabbinical Con
venlion in Philadelphia takes everybody
by surprise. It was known that there wen
exceptional rabbis, who, mreligious belie!
were umlistiuguishublo from Uuitariam-
Indeed, Home of these have preached I'rmi
Unitarian pulpits in Cincinnati. Hut it wa
u>t thought that any great body of Jew
were of this progressive faith, and pet here
right on tho heels of a great liberal li.tb
binieal Council in Europe, we have a
American one, in which distinctive Jinis'
ism is reformed away altogether. Heine’
praj’ers are abolished as unlnltdligibb
tho law of Moses Is declared to law
had only a temporary authority, il
doctrines of the Messiah and <
the restoration of Israel are spirt
utilized Into vagueness, and l\V some. d« tie
itlveiy abandoned. U is plain from th:
that the day of Jewish seclusion Inovct.
The '‘peculiar people” are giving up tin
greatest peculiarity, that ol holding tuts
ail their religious traditions. U Is the o
story of the traveller’s cloak over ag.n
Tho cold winds of porNecuttan and o i
tumoly havo blustered In vatu tor two th -
sand years lotear their lollgnut* xeMuwn
from the Jews. They only wrapped the;
selves tho olosor m them to AhteUl th.n
selves from tho storm. Hut to the nte
toeutb eentury the ium el tMw'poiUv at
religious loUmitlon has shelve on t
Hebrews hut a little while, and thc.x »
already throwing otV their ohv*k* ot'vh,
own freewill. Pretty »vsm they will men
| into the mans of thetv eoxiUlt vmen, amt
Ino longer Jew and llotvtilo, hot on
American oUUoua.—
Now Hampshire has decided egalns
prohibitory Ihjuor net, by a huge tu.\t>nt
In a Ughl'pnpuUvr vote.
The following uio somool the pllnelj
artloloa exported iretu Iheetty ot Plitlad
pltia during the month of Octobers Pen
leutn, a gallons; bread, iojv.ln .*
lard, pta,Kki dm; tallow,JJliyiM do 5 tv
101.g.-i0 ilo. ; oil I’liUo. WW-UI >'"• ! r>'‘ k > J
KlWilo. | ’Aia.. 1.1 v'
OS2 lutrroU. nml corlum'ul, do. *" »'
nil thowlwn* wnmout U> Liverpool, I'oW
nml lioiulomlorry.