Pittsburg dispatch. (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, April 28, 1889, THIRD PART, Page 17, Image 17

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    -'rV N
PAGES 17 TO 20.
Lillian Spencer Draws' Two Pen Pict
ures of the Savage Sport.
Old, Decrepit Bulls Turned Into the Arena
to Be Slaughtered.
April 10. There
is nothing perhaps
more indicative of
the national char
acter of a race
than its amuse
ments. In Cuba
the favorite forma
of diversion are
gambling, masque
balls and bull
fights. Every
Sunday during the
.season the last mentioned performance
takes place. If yon have never seen a bull
.fight, you naturally desire to do so. Ton
"have been told that it is in its decline after
a career of centuries, but this does not mat
ter. Von have in your mind a vast amphi
theater of circular seats crowded with tier
on tier of human faces. Tour fancy pic
tures the gorgeous trappings and brilliant
The Grand Entree.
throng of the brave days of the Coliseum a
Home presided over by Nero. There is the
President's box, hung with the national
flags, and pitted with the uniformed ofiicials
comprising his suit There are the mem
bers of the old noblesse, the representatives
of the court, of society.of fashion, presenting
a galaxy of distinguished men and beautiful
women The Cubana with her splendid
dark eyes flashing from behind the gauzy
meshes of the graceful mantilla. La Senor
ita, pale, petite, poeticallycharming.sitting
shylyin the background. La Creole, slen
der, sinuous, languid, lazily swaying to and
fro a feathered fan. The mulatto, swarthy,
boldly handsome, flaunting her brazen
charms on all alike: the ebonv-fnppd
negress with the Spanish eyes and magnifi-
w.ua aiah-iu jjivpuriiun. men amia a
waving of hats and a deafening cry of
"Bravo Toros" comes the glittering pro
Icessio of picadors, handerilleros and
-matadors clad in rich Spanish costume, wav
ing crimson scarf's and brandishing long,
naked swords. Lusty cheers, loud and
prolonged, greet them as they bow low be
fore the President's box as the ancient glad
iators bowed before the Emperors of vore
and place themselves in attitude of combat
Now a door is swung widely on its hinges
and amid a hushed and breathless silence
the bull dashes into the arena, when com
mences a fight between man and beast,
which must terminate in the death of either
the one or the other. Bull after bull is let loose
among the men and horses and the excite
ment gradually increases. It waxes intense
as a plunging horse throws a rider, and a
Drave iJanderillero lunges with his sword a
maddened bull. Blood covers the ground,
red scarfs fir like flames through the hot,
sultry air, swords gleam in the glaring
tropical sunlight and clink one against an
other; more furious, more perilous, more
desperate grows the fight a contest to the
death, each and everyone for himself and
Providence for them all. Suddenlv the
bull gores the sides of the horse, and the
skillful malador sticks into the bull a
naked sword. To the very hilt he
thrusts the ihin sharp blade down between
shoulder blade and spine! It is a masterly
stroke, and the big, lumbersome animal
'Q0- A
The Jrtt Doth.
glares for the last time on his antagonist;
glares with pleading, suffering, reproachful
eyes, and then calmly, heroically lays him
self down to die. It is a solemn momentl
.Even the half savage assemblage is awed.
The splendid majesty of the huge beast
makes itself felt, bnt only for an instant
the instant of death. No sooner has the
convulsive shuddering of the mammoth
. -limbs settled into repose, than the deafen
ing clamor breaks forth afresh. Shouts of
"Bien pegado hombre!" "Bravo, toro!"
rend the air. Bibbons, flowers, scarfs,
laces, mantillas, fans, gloves, purses are
thrown at the successful matador, who
makes his way to the President's box, pre
sents his victorious sword, and amid a flour
ish of trumpets quits the scene of the bloody
This was the bull fight I had in my mind
-when one hot Sunday afternoon during the
carnival, I drove to the Plazi de Toros in
Havana. This was the bull fight I had
read about confidently expected to see. To
say I was disappointed in my expectations
does not begin to express my chagrin at the
miserable spectacle I was unfortunate
enough to witness. A hundred years ago in
old Spam, Ithould have seen such a fight
as the one above described. But a'as' the
bull fight is in Its decline and is no more
what it once was.
The fight which I witnessed in Ha
vana gave one about as good an
idea of the fight so famous in Spain, as
the burlesque of an opera will give an idea
of the opera itself. I should say the bull
figbt of to-day is a parody on the bull fight
of yesterday. And a cruel, inhuman parody
at that, degenerating each year into a scene
of more flacrant torture. It is no exaggera
tion to say that a slaughter house would
present a scene of mild humanity-when com
pared to the barbarous savagery which now
attends this the national amusement of both
Cuba and Spain. That any but a race of
cannibals could look unmoved on such
oiooay ana rapacious cruelty is astounding,
and yet these people, accredited with the
highest civilization, find rapturous pleasure
in the tortures inflicted upon -poor dumb
M?aIi? ,,.rrlh,eir Ification and delight
The bull fight that I saw in Havana would
have been! udicrous ir it had not been so
bloody, for, absurd and incomprehensi
ble as it may seem, the bulls refused to
sa .Mte..
1..ttM.l fl r -- . WCl.lt-
fight To be sure they only showed their
good sense, but this kind of sagacity is not
to be desired in this kind of animal. The
managers of the Playa de Torosadvertise a
fight with bulls and men, and those bulls
must fight those men. or the populace will
make short work of those managers. In or
der to stir the bull to action every conceiva
ble means of torture is resorted to. As the
doors are thrown open a short knife is
plunged into his neck. This proceeding
gives gusto to his entrance. The first bull
which bounded into the arena was a mild-
The Deadly Thrust
eyed gentle creature, who walked into the
midst of the combatants, gave them all
round a friendly sniff, and behaved himself
about as well as any little lamb would have
done under the same circumstances. "He
will never fight," I said to the interpreter.
"Oh, yes, he will, they will force him
to it" ,
"But I fhousrht vou used blooded bulls.
bred for the purpose and imported from
"So we did once, but not now. It is too
expensive. It don't pay. The management
would be bankruptl"
''Then these are just ordinary every day
bulls?" Ill
"Si, si Senora, the market must have
meat the bulls must die. Here or in the
slaughter house, it does not matter!"
This startling revelation would have
shocked and horrified me, han I been anv
where but in Cuba, where one soon ceases to
be surprised at anything, and falls into the
philosophical habit of taking all he hears
and sees and experiences for granted. Bnt
I was right about that bull, for he couldn't
or wouldn't fight At least he ddin't He
was pricked with swords, fired with torpe
dos and finallv driven from tliA rtnw Th
grand procession, which consisted of about
as seedy a lot of Picadors and Branderel
leros as could be imagined,looked disgusted.
They wrapped their faded tawdry searfs
about their threadbare costumes,pitiful imi
tations of the rich garbs worn by the famed
Spanish fighters of old, and prepared them
selves to receive bull No. 2. He did evince
a little more spirit than his predecessor, but
his face wore an expression of great weari
He was evidently very old.and undecided
whether he wouldn't rather die than live,
anyhow. He was finally killed. The third
victim stumbled into the ring, coughed con
sumptively, and deliberately laid down and
composed himself to sleep. He was the
tiredest bnll of the lot Bull No. 4 was
attacked on his entrance by a nimble-footed
banderillero, who flung a scarf over his
face. Then a rakish looking Picador,
mounted on a shaky horse, with uncertain
legs and no tail, a hore lame, blind, old,
wek, long past all fear of balls or any
thing, except the fate which imposed on
him the necessity of living, stuck a pole
with an awl on the end into the bull's hide,
which angered him and caused him
on nis part to charge on the poor
old blind horse and gore its bony sides,
scattering its entrails on the .ground. A
more sickening sight cannot be imagined.
But the more the bull gores the horse, the
more the brave Cuban enjoys the sport
"When this goring business grows monoto
nous, barbed sticks with rockets on the end
The Grand Finale.
are inserted into the flesh of the bellowing
animal. These rockets explode and set him
afire. Nothing pleases the audience more
than the burning bull. Finally the Mata
dor appears with a sword. Heis supposed
to dispatch the beast at once, bui for lack of
skill he misses the vital spot, stabs in one
place ad another and finally succeeds in
inducing the half dead bull to give up the
This is what remains of the world-famed
bull fight celebrated alike in song and
story, and still licensed and indorsed by the
Government of Cubaand Spain and Mexico
in reality it has long ceased to be the
fashion. The Cuban lady of position no
longer lends her presence to the scene. The
audience is largely composed of American
sight-seers, who occupy boxes at a cost of
$50 (Spanish paper) apiece. The benches
are filled by Chinamen, peddlerc, fisher
men, negroes and the middle and lower
class of Cubans and Spaniards. The mu
latto and yellow girJ, gaudily and flashily
dressed, give the only dash of color to an
otherwise meager and uninteresting assem
blage. The more I see of this country's passions,
customs and amusements, the morel am
convinced of two things either it will one
day become a race of wild black men fmis
cegeneratiou is continually going on), or
what is perhaps worse, a land of Spanish
desperadoes. Only a general insurrection
can uproot the rottenest from Us core. Bnt
Cuba libre is yet a long way off.
Lillian Spenceb.
A Brooklyn Teacher's Ruse, Which Didn't
Deceive the Wary Principal.
Brooklyn Eagle.
There is a cruel story in circulation con
cerning a certain teacher in one of the pub
lic schools who has been highly compli
mented because of the success attending the
examination of her pupils. It was noticed
that her class of boy seemed to be able to
solve all the problems. When a question
was asked every boy's hand in the class was
raised. The principal of the school was
putting the questions and the lady teacher
would, call on a pupil to make the answer.
Although more than a score of questions
were asked, in no instance was an improper
answer given. The principal was so pleased
at the result that he made a special refer
ence to Miss Sash's proficiency as a
teacher in each of the classrooms
he visited. Probably envy was caused
by the fact that in no other
classroom did the pupils seem to be as well
up in their studies. One of the teachers,
whose pupils did not acquit themselves very
creditably, made an investigation, and, by a
judicions outlay of candy, succeeded in
gaining the confidence of one of the boys
under Miss Dash's care.
"Now, Johnny," said she, "how is it that
all yon boys know the answers?"
"we don't all know," said Johnny,
munching a caramel.
"But you all put up your hands as if you
did." J
"Miss Dash tells us all to put up our
hands when the question is asked. "We
boys who don't know the answer put up our
left hands and the boys who know the
answer put up their righthands, and then
Miss Dash only asks the boys who have a
right hand up."
Lady Colin Campbell Writes From
London on the Good Work Done
In Bringing to the Masses the Most Glo
rious Gift of God.
Londox, April 16. It would be difficult,
when writing on such a subject as the good
both done to and developed in the poor ot
great cities by music, to find more appropri
ate words to use, as it were, as a text, than
those of H. B. H. the Prince of "Wales, de
livered in his speech at the opening of the
Royal College of Music: "I claim for
music," said the Prince, "the merit that it
has a voice which speaks in different tones
perhaps, but with equal force to the culti
vated and the ignorant to the peer and the
peasant I claim for music a variety of ex
pression which belongs to no other art, and
therefore adapts it more than any other art
to produce that union of feeling which I
much desire to promote."
H. B. H.'s public utterances are always
"admirably expressed, and the sentence I
have just quoted is an excellent example of
the art of saying the right thing in the right
Music has not only a voice which speaks,
but it is almost as great a necessity to the
great majority of our fellow creatures as
their own natural gift of speech. And es
pecially is it so to the toilers of our great
cities. It is only of comparatively late
years that the civilizing influence of recrea
tion has come to be recognized; and of all
civilizing influences there is none that can
be compared to that wielded by music. "We
need not go back to the Pied Piper of Ham
elin to be reminded how human creatures,
be they young or old, will be attracted by
That it has power for evil as well as good
is not to be denied, and it is hardly too
mucn to say tnat before the question of
music for the people was taken up with the
enthusiasm that brought at least three so
cieties into being eager for the task of pro
viding it the use made of music in the
poorer quarters of our great towns, and es
pecially in London, leaned distinctly to the
side ot evil. Before these societies took
shape, as it were, out ot the growing neces
sities of our immense artisan class, a re
spectable workingman had hardly any place
within his reach to which he could take his
young family.
Poor people, to their credit, be it said,
are bv no means careless of their children's
morals. Eyen in some of the very poorest
parts of London one finds fathers and
mothers who watch over their children care
fully, almost severely. If they would keep
them clear of undesirable acquaintances
and unenviable knowledge, where could
such people allow their children to go? Not
to the music halls certainly, where even the
curious precocity of the children of the
poor was hardly needed to explain to their
eyes and ears the evil they both saw and
heard around them. And "yet where else
could they go? Music halls and public
houses saloons, as you say in America,
public houses and music hails, lined all the
great arteries tnat run through the north,
sonth and east of London. Nothing else
was there in the shape of amusement cheap
enough to attract the millions who craved
amusement of some kind or other, after the
hard toil of the long day. To such people
the concerts of the societies already men
tion J came as an immense boon. Here
were entertainments either free or well
within the people's means, to which they
could go with their families at nightfall,
without the fear of young minds being be
wildered or contaminated by equivocal allu
sions. They were not slow to appreciate
also the superior class of music which they
heard at the concerts; for the mass of the
-people are, within certain limits, exceeding
ly good judges of both the music they hear
and the way in which it is rendered.
The soil was ready and fertile, and it is
therefore not very surprising that the good
seed sown so few years ago should already
have borne such a great crop of success.
The experiment was at first tried with a cer
tain amount of misgiving; that feeling van
ished long ago. A good concert is now
found to draw a larger audience than al
most any other form of entertainment hith
erto attempted; nothing is so popular or so
If the working classes continue to pav to
go to the concerts provided for them, there
can be little doubt of their appreciation of
the attractions offered. Not only do thev
feel grateful to the societies that hring so
much music to them but, though there are
several societies for providing music in this
way, they cannot suffice for so gigantic a
city as London and so the people are begin
ning themselves to try and help themselves
in this direction.
I received a letter lately from a poor
workingman, written in the name of four
others beside himself, asking me to go
down and sing for them on any Saturday
evening I chose to name. .Four years ago
these poor men workingmen earning only
a few shillings a week had felt that some
thing must be done to save the young people
around them from the influences of the
music halls. As the writer truly said:
"Boys and girls will be boys and girls, and
if tbey don't get healthy amusement, why,
thev will take the unhealthy." These five
men, therefore, had formed themselves into
a committee; they hired a small school
room every Saturday evening, and cflhi
menced giving their concerts. To us it may
seem but a little thing to do, but to them,
with only their wage3 and no sort of experi
ence to help them, it was a very great
undertaking indeed. For four years they
had carried on their weekly entertain
ment to gradually increasing numbers,
until last year it was found that inch
crowds had to be turned away every Satur
day night that this year they decided that
if the good -work must be carried on, they
must take a larger hall. The larger hall
meant more expense in every way; hut the
managers made up their minds to take the
risk for the sake of the good that had been
done in these four years. The music halls of
the neighborhood had undoubtedly suffered,
and not much wonder; for the night I sang
at the request of this committee of working
men, there must have been between two or
three thousand people in the hall. If that
number are drawn away from the music
halls every Saturday night in that neigh
borhood, it is not surprising that they should
feel the difference. The action of these men,
by no means a solitary instance, shows how
much they" have learned from the lesson
taught by the societies as to the elevating
influence of good music
mg one, of the lasting and ennobling influ
ence of music, is the Royal Victoria Coffee
Hall,4n the New Cut formerly the Old
Surrey Theater. The name of that street
not many years ago was decidly ill-favored.
Both it and its surrounding neighborhood
had unenviable reputation. "The Victoria
Hall, or the "Vio" as its habitues now
affectionately terra" it, Mas only established
at Christmas, 1880.
The clergymen of the district were unan
imously opposed to the scheme when first
started, thinking that another "music hall"
was not likely to have a much better effect
than those which, as they knew by experi
ence, had already done (so .much harm.
Xneir opposition availed nothinc thoa
thev did what tbey could, both by examp
ana precept, w prevent people iroaj
to the "Vic." The good done in so short a
space of time, however, has opened the. eyes
of these short-sighted ecclesiastics, and now
they and the police join in praise of the al
tered state of the streets as regards both
drunkenness and immorality. "Since the
Surrey became the 'Vic,' " say the latter,
"there has not been one charge arising di
rectly out of it; before that "tnere was never
a night without one or two, and at the holi
day season there were as many as 30 and 40,
and even CO charges at one time." The
general charges of the neighborhood have
decreased, on an 'average, from 40 to 4.
Looking at these results, and at the com
paratively short time it has taken to pro-,
duce them, who shall say that something
very like the traditional ''royal roads" has
not been found to the hearts ot the people.
The successof the Victoria Hall is all the
more phenomenal, from the fact that it fs
open every evening. The entertainments
are varied: concerts, popular lectures, vari
ety entertainments and the magic lantern
are the chief attractions; and that admira
ble and most energetic lady, Miss Cons,
who was recently elected to the new County
Council, the Secretary of the "Vic," is al
ways on the lookout for anything which
will interest or amuse her audience. That
such an institution should be able to hold
its own against the many other places of
amusement always ready to pander to the
lowest tastes of an uneducated class is not
only a most encouraging fact for those who
believe in the soundness of human nature
when it is given a fair chance to raise itself,
but also proves the immense talent for or
ganization possessed by Miss Cons.
Once or twice a week the "Vic" is about
as lull as it can hold, which, as it can scat
nearly 3,000 persons, is not a bad criterion
of its popularity. On these occasions a bal
lad concert is generally given, and if any
well-known singer or popular favorite is
announced on the bills outside there will be
hardly standing room in the great theater.
Though the taste for good music has
greatly increased during the last years in
the poor quarters of London, ballad musio
remains secure at the top of the list in popu
lar estimation. The people like certain ora
torios, such as the "Messiah" and "Eli
jah;" they also appreciate instrumental mu
sic greatly; but the true warmth of their en
thusiasm and their applause is reserved for
the ballad that tells them a story and goes
direct to their hearts.
I do not think a stranger would recognize
the traditional phlegmatio English nature,
were he to go down to a concert, say at
Shoreditch or Bennondsev, and listen to the
applause which follows the singing of some
well-known ballad. The whole audience
seems suddenly to become one huge throat
and pair of hands, and the uproar is
enough, to use the vernacular expression,
"to lift the roof off." Not that these out
bursts by any means greet every item of the
programme, for. if an East End audience is
capable of enthusiasm, it is also capable of
discernment; and the dead silence which
occasionally follows a performance seems,
by the force of contrast, to be almost a
greater condemnation than actual hissing.
There is also another way in which the
societies aid in developing a love of music
among the masses. Singing classes have
been instituted at several of the musical
centers and have met with unyarying suc
cess. A choral class at Clerfcenwell was
started in the spring of 1882. During the
first term 86 students joined, 94 during the
second. The following year, encouraged by
the success of the Clerkenwell classes, a
teaching center was established in Ber
moiidsey; orchestral classes for teaching
string, wind and reed instruments were
added to the choral classes, and competitive
examinations in harmony and sight singing
were held at both centers. The third year
was even still more successful, for the num-
Der oi entries ot students rose from 640 to
1,260, and 12 new classes were formed.
These facts speak for themselves.
"Music." said Martin Luther, "is th
fairest and most glorious gift of God. It is
a discipline, it is an instructress, it makes
people milder and gentler, more moral and
more reasonable." These words might have
been taken as the key-note of the work done
by the various societies who set themselves
the task of bringing this "fairest and most
gloiious gift of God" to the masses of toil
ers and workers who throng our great city,
and to whom the grimy, colorless side of life
is so terribly real. And that they have suc
ceeded in carrying out Luther's words in
making people more moral and more rea
sonable by the aid of music is proved be
yond doubt and question by the altered
state of the New Cut and similar metropol
itan thoroughfares.
Gebtkude E. Campbell.
Description of a Strange Crcntnre Found In
the AnHtrnllnn Wilds.
San Francisco Chronicle. 1
One of the most curious of all Australian
animals is the ornithorhynchus paradoxus.
It is paradoxical, being half bird and half
mammal. It lives chiefly in the water, and
seeks its food by means of its bill, in the
mud, line ducks. As this animal has had
great attention called to it by the Darwini
ans, who use it as an illustration of a con
necting link between species, it will be well
to give rather a minute description of it. It
certainly i3 a mdst odd-looking affair. The
adnlt animal is about 20 inches in length
from the end of the bill to the end of the
tail. The body is rather long and com
pressed, and thickly covered with very
glossy hair, among the roots of which is a
layer of soft, short water-proof felt or wad
ding. The head is small and round, with small
bright eyes and no external ears, although
the internal ears are perfectly developed
and the hearing acute; and instead of the"
muzzle, mouth and the teeth of an ordinary
uuaurupcu, mo creature IS lumlslicd With a
hill like that of a duck. The legs are short;
the forefeet have each five toes, with strong
uuinjuiug cjhws ana a connecting mem
brane for swimming which extends even
beyond the claws, but is capable of being
folded back, so as not toimpede their use
when burrowing. The hind feet are smaller
than the fore feet; they also have five toes,
armed with claws and webbed, but the web
does not extend beyond the base of the
The hind feet of the male have sharp
spurs, like that of a cock, which are merely
rudimentary in the feinale. These spurs
were at one time erroneously supposed to be
venomous. The tail is strong, broad and
flattened, about half as lone as the body,
covered with long and coarse hair and
nearly naked on its under surface. This
animal is lively and active, and so readily
alarmed by the approach of danger as no"t
to b8 easily shot, diving before aim can be
taken. It is usually to be seen with only
its head above the water. It prefers the
twilight to the glare of the day, and its
voice resembles the growl of a small puppy.
It carefully dresses and pecks its fur, and
when asleep rolls itself into abalj.
A Centennial Snggestlo .
t was decided that President Harrison
onld merely bowt6 the guests passing be-
him. at the reception, as Washineton
did. But why didn't the committee pro
vide an apparatus as aoove, to please the
great army of handshaking fiends ? Pweifc.
A Tale of a Century Ago.
Lieutenant Henry Curwen, meanwhile,
was learning that the service of his country
was not always to bring him nearer to the
girl he loved. That sad day, when he made
sure that no one in Marietta had heard of
any TitcOmb party, or expected them, he
had gone back in poor enough spirits to his
pack-saddles, his homesick friend Glen
denin, to Captain Zapoly and to General
Harmar's hospitality. After dinner Gon
ernl Harmar showed to him the orders
which he had brought. In substance, they
directed Harmar to withdraw all the ef
ficient force he could from Fort Harmar,
and thus to strengthen the new post at Fort
Washington. He was at the same time left
to his own discretion as to a movement
in force against the Shawnees. General
Knox still hoped, and the President hoped,
that the Indian chiefs would see the folly of
war with the United States, and that Be
fore the arrival of the dispatches they might
be peacefully engaged in the easy business
of housing their summer crops of corn. But
General Harmar said what Curwen had
already learned in substance at Marietta,
that they were more insolent than ever.
His own wish had been to do all but dis
mantle the fort in which they were and to
make arrangements for a campaign. Now
that he had full permission he should do
this immediately.
"So, if you gentlemen have seen all you
want of the Campus Martins," he said, in
conclusion," "you need not take a comb
nor a biscuit nor a cartridge from your
boat You may go on board at gunfire to
morrow morning and work your. way down
to Fort "Washington. And tell them to
look out for me and to be sure I do not
pass them in the night" And at his own
little joke he laughed heartily.
Curwen joined ruefully in the laugh;
Zapoly joined more heartily, without the
slightest understanding of what the joke
was. Such is the necessity, alas, of those
who are forced to converse in languages
they do not understand. To poor Harry,
who had come by a zig-zag route more than
1,000 miles' to see the women he loved, it
was a wretched blow which fell in the an
nouncement that he was to go 200 more di
rectly away from the only hope he had of
seeing her. But he knew too well the
place oi a young officer, indeed, he was gov
erned too much by the feeling of respect to
a man in every way his superior, to venture
on any vigorous protest All he could say
was that he would go as soon as the General
thought best, bnt that he had carelessly
made tome arrangements in the new city,
and that he must send his servant over to
cancel them. So unused was he to life in
camps, that he was amazed when the good
natured General replied:
"Cancel them? .Don't think of cancelling
them. "We are not so hard pressed as that
Oh, no, Lieutenant, a day more or less is
nothing--I mean a day of your arrival for,
to tell the truth, I shall not break up here
for a fortnight or more, and, as Bob Kidd
said when they hanged him. there will be
no fun till I come. Oh, no, my dear young
friend, we are in no such hurry as that
Only, as your boat is all ready, and I have
nothing half so swift as she, I thought yon
had better take my commands to St Clair
yonder. "Wednesday, Friday when you
will only tike care I do not. pass you on a
flood some day. lean tell you that when
there is a fresh a fleet of arks makes speed
which would have frightened Shem and
And he laughed good-naturedly again.
Harry Curwen was frightened at his own
success. He did not dare presume upon it
He said, modestly, that he would take care
no one passed him on the way, and retired
early to his room, which had been assigned
to him and Zapoly. Here he summoned
Clendenin, and gave him orders for the
next day.
And the next day he and Clendenin
crossed to the new town again, and then, in
a canoe, worked their way up to see some
Boyntons from Newbury, who, it was
thought, might know something of the
Titcombs. But they, while they knew of
people of that name in NewBury, had not
had tidings of their removal. In a similar
fruitless search the next day was spent
And on the fourth day, from mere pride,
the young officer had to give up this in
quiry which he could not explain either to
Harmar, to Zapoly, or to Clendenin, and as
soon as his awkward squad was released
from the school ot the soldier in the morn
ing, he ordered them on board the barge
and took up the voyage, now so odious to
him, to the fort, newly-established, where
we now see the city of Cincinnati.
And now he was to spend months there
on duties wholly new to him, among com
panions every one xf whom would have
been a study, were the young man one of
the critical or of the speculative kind.
Kentucky militiamen came from time to
time. At least tbey succeeded in eating
Uncle Sam's rations, though the officers on
Uncle Sam's regulur line looked very
doubtfullyon their performances. Queerly
enough, they had none of the skill of the
rifle lor which the ideal Kentuckian was
even then 'famous. Zapoly, who watched
their manual of arms, declared that they
did not know one end, of a gun front the
The famous pack-saddles, to the construc
tion of which Curwen had given so much time
in Pennsylvania proved to be absurdly large
when the Indian horses were brought in up
on which they were to be used. "They are
big enough for elephants," said the officer
who received them, and poor Curwen had to
stand chaff untold, because he had carelessly
revealed his own share in their manufac
ture. He brought his own Yankee skill to
bear, however, in the plans for reconstruct
ing them, and was author of an ingenius
method of refilling them, which made them
useful with the little "tackies" which were
to carry them. Indeed, everybody, except
the poor martinet Zapoly, put his hand to
40 things a day. "I clean my boots, Iwash
my shirts, I sew on my buttons, I drill men,
I scold them. I praise them, I pack biscuits,
I approve bills tor hay, I fish for cat-fish, I
salt pork, I hoop casks, I write despatches,
I sit on court-martials, I do everything
which becomes a man, from swaggering
around as if I was a commander round to
concealing the hole in my hat by an extra
large cockade." Thus wrote Curwen to
young Urowinshield, a college mend wnom
be had left at home.
At last even the
fastidious Harmar I
agreed that they were ready to march. High
time it seemed to Harry, to Zapoly, and '
most ot ine young omcers. women came
in daily to the fort, with theirchildren,froin
cabins not 30 miles away, frightened by
tales ot other cabins burned and other wo
men murdered. From beyond this line of
settlements, or of places proposed as settle
ments, more serious rumors came, of such a
concentration of Indian forces as had not
been made for years. In all such rumors,
there was the certainty "behind that the En
glish troops supplied powder, lead, flints
and guns to the savages. There was no hope
that they would hot be equipped quite as
well as Harmar's own forces. Why he
would wait for a dozen more recruits, or for
a few more pack-saddles, was a problem
which the younger officers could not solve;
and all were delighted Indeed when heat
last permitted two or three companies of
his Kentucky recruits to march northward
Up the valley, and feel the force which was
said to be gathering.
For Harry Curwen himself he had not
much enthusiasm about the enterprise
which followed. To leave barracks and
fort; yes, that was what they longed for.
The weather was delightful, the autumn
jnst coming on, and the ride through forests
and across prairies was nil that one could
wish. But he knew all the deficiencies in
men and equipment; an aid does. He
knew everything which had been done
wrong,and it was hard for him to think that
of a sudden, in some day of battle, every
thing would go right "With the privates,
and even with Zapoly, it was different. The
count, as they called Zapoly, had amused
himself in a fashion by shooting, and some
times by fishing. He was delighted to have
at last an opportunity to exercise his own
Erofession, in which, it must be confessed,
is only achievement thus far had been in
the Potato "War of Frederic.
To lounge along, 10 or 15 miles a day, in
weather generally perfect this was the reg
ular movement of the first three weeks oi
the campaign. If the woods left only a
beaten trail, talk was difficult, but often the
prairies opened so that the officers could chat
together as the horses walked slowly on.
Most of the command was on foot, and it
was impossible to exceed their rate 'in a
day's march. At night there was but little
fuss about an encampment The whole
force was hardly 1,600 men, most of whom
were used to frontier life. A fewjtents were
set up for the Headquarters, if it were con
venient. For the rest there was always
wood enough for a campfire, and the men
slept in their blankets, under trees or in the
open air, as might happen.
Zapoly, the Count, was delighted. His
dream had accomplished itself as he had no
right to hope it would." He attached himself
to every scouting party though it were sent
out for" the most insignificant purpose. The
rough and simple Kentuckians were amused
by his elaborate artificial arrangements for
the' campaign, and by the very limited
range of his vocabulary. But once and
again General Harmar himself found him
ot use in interpreting with the coureurs an
bois, of whom more than one was with the
the party, who were really much better ac
quainted with the homes'and trails of the
enemy than were any ot his Kentuckians.
The Ohio settlers had. none of them been in
the territory more than three years, and
Harmar himself knew the ground as well as
they did which means that he did not
know it all.
Coming back from one of these expedi
tions on a rainy afternoon Zapoly reported
that-the war was opening gigantic propor
tions. "Dudder day wot you call him
hier we did burn cinnuante wot you call
him fifty corns wot vou call him, cobs,
corn; aujourdhui to-day we did bum
deux-cents wot you call him, two hun
dred." The truth was that the business of the
expedition was to destroy the villages of
the Shawnees, inside or cast of the line of
the two Miamis. Some treaty or agreement
or general theory that it would be for the
best to push all the Indians west of that
line governed the policy of the new-born
nation. Now the territory involved is two
thirds, more or Jess, of the present State of
Ohio. It includes some of the most re
markable farming lands in this world.
There are bottom lands there which have
yielded unparalleled crops of Indian corn
from that day to this, in the century which
has elapsed, without a spadeful of manure.
Jad Anthony, who knew Pennsylvania
farming, when he saw the country and its
Indian cornfields, said that he had never
seen such fields of corn in his life. It was
not, then, very wonderful that the Indians,
who were in possession, did not abdicate
very quickly when somebody somewhere
said it would be desirable that they should.
And this expedition on which our friends
were engaged was intended to convince
them, by the destruction of their crops,
lodges and villages, that it would be lor
their best interest to do so.
As Zapoly made his bi-lingnal announce-,
ment of victory he opened his haversack, in
which he had brought what he called les
articles de luxe, which every day he col
lected for the "museums of the curious in
Europe. A queer set he had by this time
now a horn spoon, now a cunningly carved
shell from the Ohio, now a wampnm belt,
with other matters of native art This time
he held up a necklace of shells and showed
it to Curwen. "Voila, mon ami, regardez,
it is new it is sehr wunderlich, mon ami,
voila! Dem shells, mon ami, regardez, sont
des coquilles maritimes what you call
dem? Shells of the marine de l'ocean
ocean, mon -ami, lis ne sont pasdes eoquilles
de la riviere. No, no, not shells from de
brook, de la belle riviere Ohio."
Sure enough, to any one's eye, the neck
lace was of sea Bhells. To Curwen, how
ever, it had quite another interest It was
clearly of the work of civilized artificers.
And the moment he took it ill his hand he
recognized its workmanship. He eagerlv
showed the clasp to Zapoly, and told him
in French, which he now spoke sufficiently
well, that not 12 months before he had had
that necklace in his hand. In truth it was
made from South American shells by some
Dutch workman in Caraccas. It had been
bought by one of the Salem captains, and
given by his wife as a present to Sarah
Farris. She had tforn it one evening at a
dance, and the clasp had broken. . Harry
Uurwen nad put it in nis pocket and had
carried it the next day to the jeweler who
had mended it. All this he rapidly ex
plained to the other, and confirmed what he
said by opening the clasp, and showing on
a little smooth place the letters "S. P. from
J. L." , x
"Now what the devil brought it to this
wilderness?" said the young man, more
eagerly excited than Zapoly had ever sees
' Of course there was no answer. The
seeutshad found two wretched oablas of
bark, from -which the inmates had fled.
They had, apparently, not so much as
known that a war was in progress. Clearly,
they had not hurried themselves in the har
vesting, of their corn, most of which vas In
the field. A few bushels, as Zapoly had
said, were piled, not husked, by the cabin.
These the scouts had taken for the use of
the army. "While the men were packing it
he, as his wont was, had been hunting for
curiosities. It never occurred to the ac
complished nobleman that he was doing
what a man would be hanged for should
such a man be found rifling his mother's
castle on the Danube in her absence. Under
a pile of leaves which seemed to him not
normal he had found quite a "cache" of do
mestic implements, and under these, neatly
wrapped in corn-busks, was the necklace in
question. How under the heavens had it
come there? This question, in one or an
other form, spoken aloud or only whispered
fo himself, accompanied Harry Curwen for
But the very next night events occurred
wiiich prevented Harry from going out him
self to the place where Zapoly" had found
these relics, to see if he conld not And the
Indians who left them there. Colonel Trot
ter had been ordered out with a large re
connoitering party, and hid marched but a
few miles when his advance overtook and
killed two of the Indians. By one of their
shots one of his own men was wounded. For
some reason or other the whole party at
once returned, as reconnoitering parties
will. Colonel Gordon, a Kentucky officer
in the force, was disgusted, and marched off
the same men to recover the lost laurels.
The men went unwillingly enough, and
from the number of stragglers who came
back it was clear to Harry and his friend
that thej had no stomach for the fight But
Harmar would not let these" two accom
pany the expedition, telling them that he
should have more work for them at
home. Sure enough, indeed, before the
next evening, the whole body of the Ken
tuckians came running back Into camp,
and when Gordon himself appeared, de
jected and angry, it seemed that all the
30 regulars he had with him had been cut to
pieces. "When, weeks after, a muster,of the
militia men took place, it proved that they
had all found their way back to Fort
"Washington. All this showed that war
had begun, and indeed, they were approach
ing what might well be called villages, and
passing along by the magnificent cornfields,
such as have been described. Everything
that could be of use was burned, but the
scants1 brought in such accounts of gather
ing ot the clans as might have been brought
in had a great army of Napoleon's been
And Harmar himself was affected by re-
Eorts so terrible. He came as far as "what
e chose to call the capital of the Miami
towns, and burned that, destroyed some 20,
000 bushels of corn, he thought, and then,
ordered a retreat It he had not ordered it,
the greater part of his men would have gone
back without orders. But this was not the
end. After two or three days of this excit
ing, provoking and disgusting work, when
they were eight miles back on their way to
Fort "Washington, it seemed to Harmar that
he must recover some reputation if he could,
and he, therefore, ordered from his very best
force parties amounting to 400 men, to go
back to the ruins of the town, thinking t
find there the savages assembled to see what
had been left "With this party were Zapoly
and Curwen. They marched about mid
night, having been divided into different
parties, in the hope of entrapping a consid
erable number of the Indians together. This
scientific plan was unfortunately unfit for
the woods, and the result was, in brief, that
every division had to fight the enemy alone,
and that the end of it was a virtual mas
sacrefor some 200 men were killed and
wounded or carried into cantivltv bv the
Indians. On the extreme right wing had
been Harry and Clendenin. with Zapoly.
This is no place to describe the miserable
carnage which followed. Little does the
traveller of to-day, who takes a cup of coffee
at Fort "Wayne, or changes a train there,
understand or indeed remember the intrica
cies of what happened there just a century
ago. Enough, that each wing of the little
company finding little opposition pushed
too far. The centre, unsupported, met the
whole force of the savages. The troops at
last broke and fled several miles. It was
not till the St Joseph river parted pursuers
and pursued, that the whites made a rally.
Thus was it, that when Curwen and a few
men who had been detached on the extreme
fight, returned, they found no Major
Wyllys to report to. The army had fled
and between Curwen and his command were
the triumphant savnjres.
Thus cut off from his own general, and
from any possibility of rendering assistance
Harry fountLthat he must find his way back
to the Ohio, if he could, by his own resour
ces. Zapoly, brave enough, was utterly
confused. He was no woodsman, and as
Harry said alterwards, did not know his
right hand from his left Clen
denin had the instincts of a
Western scout, and useful indeed these
proved in the days which followed; but he
knew nothing ot the country in which he
was, and was even confused, in ways which
Harry could not understand, by the vege
tation, the flow of the streams and every
thing which ought to teach the way, but
which varied strangely from what the boy
was used to in the valley of the Alle
gheny Mountains. Poor Harry Curwen
had to exercise hts own "horsa sense" If he
were to get home at all, and in that country
he had two difficulties. A heavy mist or
cloud, which seemed almost like smoke,
hung over the whole sky for days, and made
it difficult even to see where was the sun
in the heavens. If it did not rain there
was fog or smoke so thick that one could
not make out north Or south, unless he had
a compass.
The boy was wholly unused to the
prairies, and was worse off than he
would have been at sea. He was
equally unused to "Western forests;
while he had some knack as a woodsman in
New Hampshire or in Maine, he did not
know the indications which surrounded him
in Ohio. By some wretched misfortune they
had all gone oat from camp without the or
dinary pocket compass, which every sur
veyor carried in those days. And now tbey
had to work home to tbe'Ohio by such indi
cations as nature and nature's god would
give them. The traveler who flies, across
at the rate of 40 miles aq hour, sleeping as
he rides perhaps does not well or easily
imagine what the journey was. As the
bird flies it is 200 miles; as these poor fel
lows had to march oh 1 how much more.
His whole party was bnt six men. Of the
privates of the party) there was no man of
the type from which novelists have made
their Pathfinders". One of tfaea was oae of
the boatbuilders whom Harry Curwen had
brought with him. One of them was a
wagoner from Pennsylvania, who had been
enlisted at Fort Pitt when he was too drunk
to know What he was doing. One who was
called a Kentucky militia man was in fact
a Scotch gardener, who had been exploring
the "West for new plants at the charge of
some English botanists, had found that his
remittances did not follow him and had en
listed for better, for worse. Zapoly, as has
been said, was as ignorant of woodcraft as a
child. Harry found himself in fact, as in
name, the leader of the party, with abso
lutely no knowledge of she methods of wood
faring life in that region, or of the condition
of the country or of the climate.
All that he knew was that he must work
to the southeast with no compass. Hp
knew that the streams now near him
flowed, for their general course, north and
northeast, and so far he had a vague clew.
But once and again he had reason to dis
trust it. From day to day, of course, he
had every hope of a fair sunrise or sunset,
or break of the miserable fog which sur
rounded him. But to the day of his death
he never did know whether he led his party
in the general direction they wanted to take,
or whether they went round and round for
the three or four days which first followed
their separation from Harmar's army.
It was not till 3 or4 o'clock one after
noon that, with hardly any warning, fog.
and smoke seemed to lift from above them,
and, to his dismay, Harry saw that the sun,
now quite low in the heavens, was just
where it ought not to be.
That is to say. he was traveliner north
-east, almost exactly away from it
But to the day of his death young man,
man of affairs, or' old man, telling these sto
ries to his grandchildren Harry Curwen
believed that he had been led all that morn
ing by an invisible hand.
If, as he supposed, he had been all day on
this course, and this seemed most likely, all
prospect of his rejoining the command" was
over. His business was to strike the Ohio
river as best he might And, on the little
evidence they had as to the place where this
sunshine found them, he determined, and
determined rightly, that he must change his
course over the prairie at once, fix a route
as directly southeast as streams and swamps
would permit, and, if he could, strike the
Great Biver before it made the bend west
ward, in which it passes Fort Washington.
He knew,and any man of his party knew,
that they were no match for any consider
able band of the Shawnees whom they
might encounter. The savages would be
flushed with the news of the victory they
had won, and, with, the mere handful of
powder which Harry could rely upon in all
the horns of all his party there could not be
long fighting. His business was to move as
quietly as he could and to strike the Ohio.
He knew also that on this course, if he
could hold to it,he should with every march
come nearer to regions which the Indians
were abandoning, and also, which for him
meant a great deal, he should be coming
closer to the Essex county settlement of
In such a party, at such a time, there is
no need' of a formal command, far less of
explanation why a change of move
ment is ordered. Every man knew at once
that they had lost their way and now had
found it. And the whole party was as
glad, as Cnrwen could wish them, to
make a long march even after the
hard work of the day. He had moonlight
after the sun went down, and it was mid
night before they made a bivouacby a water
course. Even then, they ate their venison
without more cooking than it had had al
ready. For no man was foo enough to risk
the light of a fire.
But with the gray of the morning, as soon
as one could see anything, Clendenin was
on his feet Indeed, tor such a purpose as
this, he was their best woodsman. He felt,
the danger they were in, by traveling- fter"
nightfall, though he accepted th necessity.
He now worked back upon their track, to
see whether they'had passed any other trails;
and he found, as he feared, within a mile,
the evident trail of another party crossing
their own, not quite at right angles. The
boy was acting without orders, and he knew
he was, but he knew that Curwen had confi
dence ill, him, and, with the promptness of a
frontiersman, he worked against tne trail, as
he would have called it that is to say, he
did not follow the party who made it but
went back to see where they came from. He
L pressed on as rapidly as he could, for he
knew he would be missed as scon as the
others were awake. His curiosity was re
warded, when, not half a mile from their
own camp, as he could guess, but per
haps a mile and a half by the way.
he had come, he saw a little skia
lodge, evidently the work of Indians.
He approached as close as he dared
and watched as long as he dared for signs
of motion. Just as he supposed he must
return with no knowledge of the strength
of the party there, some one came out from
the lodge. "To his surprise it Was a young
woman. She looked around her. went to a
stagnant creek before her and filled a gourd
with water, and then called the others.
Only two women followed her at first, but
in a minute after, another. It was quite
clear to Clendenin that these were the whole
party. He did not mean to be frightened
by awoman, and he now broke from his
lair in the tall, dry grass, and rushed upon
them, showing them that he had a gun.
He was too quick for them to escape him.
They cried aloud. One of them fell upon
her knees, with some notion of the custom
of white people; but the youngest advanced
fearlessly to meet him. She said: "Good
Indians. I no Indian; I from Cumber
land," speaking with difficulty The boy '
looked at her with amazement; cried out
"Bachel, Kachel," and kissed her.
To the white woman if so she may be
called who was as black as the smoke of the,
lodge and the sun of July, August Sep
tember and Octobet could make her Clen
denin's eager kiss and scream of recognition
brought back a set of emotions which had
been dead for years. She had not schooled
herself to thedeaf and dumb.blind and numb
stolidness of the life of a Shawnee squaw.
Bather, she had been schooled to it by the
years which had passed over her since she
was taken from her father's home. The boy
had dreamed of her all this time. And she
no, not once in a month had she thought of
him. But now, with his embrace and
scream of delight his eager volume of
questioning, of which she understood noth
ing, the girl was changed in one instant
Twenty times in the first year of her
captivity she had tried to escape. Twenty
times the poor child had been caught in the
attempt and brutally punished. And now,
for months, not to say for vears, the poor
thing was fast ceasing to he more than a
thing, had neither looked backward nor
forward. She had not looked up to God.
She had asked no questions and made no
struggle. Literally, she had hewed wood
and drawn water. The night and
morning when Sarah Parris and Mary Tit
comb had been thrown upon her hospitality
had, for the moment, broken the paralysis
which was on her heart wul, mind, and
even body. But she conld see that they
had no suspicion that she was. other than
the savages around her. If she thought of
escape with them, it was with that dead
feeling that nobody cared whether she lived
or died nay, with the certainty that the
herself did not care. It is hard to describe
such numbness; impossible, of coarse, to
tell the feelings of a thing, hardly a persea,
who does not feel. And now, this young
fellow caresses and kisses her.
She could see nothing in him of the little
boy whom she had so often dressed whea he
as a baby. But just as he had knows her,
not hy her person, but by her voice, she
recognized in him, not his boy voice, bat hie
father's. The electric spark flashed agrees;
and she, was herself again.
But 'they conld not understand eaek
other's words any better than she sad Srk
Parris had understood each other. And the ,
assistance she rendered from this sieae&t
not only to her "wether, bnt to Oarwear Za
poly, nd the other three, was Hot the as
HrtwweofawWw eu,-W tfet efa