The agitator. (Wellsborough, Tioga County, Pa.) 1854-1865, November 11, 1858, Image 1

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    ff e riiti oT Publication.
the TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR U pniK
■ .terv Thursday Morning, and mailed to snb ■
.1 the very reasonable price of Qmt Dow
» cnb l” nnaro.imwriaiiy in advance. It isintend- j
t* l ” jjfo every subscriber when the term for
ch he has paid shall hare eapircd, by the stamp
ilr'me Out,” on the margin of the last paper.
— 1 cr will then be stopped until a further re-
T? e „he received. By this arrangement no man
wmkM in debt to the printer,
can be , OIT4TO e is the Official Paper of .the Coon
s** ijjp and steadily increasing circulation
„ito nearly every neighborhood- in the
relC It is sent free of postage to any Post-office
C^'h°n 'the county limits, and to those living within
1,1 ihniu hot whose most eonvenrentpoitoffice may
an adjoining County.
Busin eis Cards, not exceeding 5 lines, paper In
clM# P ____
For the Agitator.
THE SAILOR'S BRIDE,
eh, stood oo the beach, when the Storm-King tu raring,
" Aod ’fore the blast the white bUlowa flew,
ttticean in pitr, s coronet gave her;
Ttot ahoM «> r bright pearl drepi of dew.
Those ringlets of gold that had glanced in the sunbeam,
Aq(J danced on e*cb breere that around her did blow;
vet with the spray that o’er her was splashing,
* Clung close to her cheek and her shoulder of snow.'
Bor dark eyes were fixed on the rerge of the ocean, 1
TVhereveanly struggled a boat to the shore:
i-Conic home to tliy Mary, ere the wild wares roll o’er thee,
And lost in their depths, I shall see thee no more I”
0,1 borne to tliy cabin, lovely bride of tho sailor,
Thv Duncan rides safe o’er tho treacherous sea;
TTbeii the storra-King has gone to his rest on yon island,
jbj Duncan irill baste to his cabin and thee.
A Capital Story.
Shortly after iho first republican constitu
tion of lbs Stale of New York was framed,
and the judiciary system was established for
the civil department, the supreme court, or
that branch of it called the “circuit court,”
was appointed for one of the circuits, in the
wnntyof Dutchess and the eccentric Judge
Crane was to preside. Judge Crane was
vtry wealthy, and highly respected for his
public and private virtues, especially for his
charitableness to the poor; but he always
dressed in a plain garb, and would hardly
ever wear an overcoat, whatever the weather
might be, and it was seldom he rode when he
went abroad, although he oWned many valu
sble horses. On the morning of the day in
which the court was to begin, the Judge set
out before day and walked gently on, through
bail, rain and snow, to the appointed place.
On arriving at Poughkepsie, cold and wet,
be walked to a tavern, where he found the
landlady and her servants were making large
preparations for the entertainment of the
judges, lawyers and other gentlemen whom
they expected would attend the circuit court.
The Judge was determined to have some
sportfand in a pleasant lone addressed the
landlady — l have no money and was obliged
to come to court, and have walked through
this dreadful storm more than twenty miles,
lam wet and cold and dry and hungry. I
want something to eat before court begins;
when the landlady put herself in a magisteri
al posture, and pulling bn a countenance o!"
contempt, said to the Judge, You say you are
wet and cold, dry and hot, how can all that
be! No, my dear madam, says the Judge,
1 said that I was wet and cold ; and if you
had been out as long as I have been in this
storm, 1 think you would be likewise dry and
cold. 1 said that 1 wanted something to drink
and eat. But you have no money you say
retorted the landlady. [ told you the truth,
says the Judge, and the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth, but were I as rich as
Crcesus, 1 would be willing to work for some
thing to eat and to drink. Crotsus, who is
Crcesus says the lady. I never knew him
said the Judge, but I have understood that he
was very rich. I want something to eat and
something to dr'nk, and were I as poor as
Job in his utmost calamity, and had my health
and strength as well as I now have, I would
willingly go to work a little while, if I could
only get something to drink and a bite of
good victuals. Weil, old daddy, says she,
bow much do you want to drink 1 Half a
gill of good brandy, madam, says he. Very
*tll, says she, I will give you half a gill and
,somecold victuals if vou will go into the
back yard and cut and split three armfulls of
®ood, and bring it inlo the kitchen, where
the servants want to make a good fire to dry
lbs gentleman’s great coals when they come,
•ltd after you get your victuals, I shall want
JWlo go away. Well, says he, give me the
brandy, and I’ll soon bring the wood. He
"tank the liquor and walked quietly into the
jrood yard, where he found a good axe, and
be soon laid by the kitchen fire the proper
tjttanliiy of wood, viz : his arms three limes
all. When the landlady had got his cold
uncneon on ihe table, in hopes that he would
*®t and be off—now for the good bite of vicl
-BaJ’saJ’s 'be judge. There it is, said she,
h is almost as cold as myself
not half so wet, for I see neither tea, nor
0 n ° r chocolate to wet it. Beggars must
Jbe choosers, said she. lam not begging
f],- 00 ma <lam, said he, but have paid the
. f. nce demanded. I told you said she I
~ b gjve you cold victuals, and there is
boiled ham, cold pork and beef, cold po
#a?e 5 an d turnips, and cold vinegar, pickles
is o°^' J rou want anything hot, there
btc j UBlar< * a °d pepper, and here is good
. ’ U°°d butter and good cheese, and all
toe EDou Bh for such an old ragamuffin as
' s ver y 6°°d> said he, ploas
.s. but madam bs so good as to let me
some new milk, warm, right from the
” et 9 g°od victuals. The cows
5 bJi m '^ e di says she. Then let me have
ij, e ° r cold milk, said he. I will notsend
lo| ," a «* ‘ n this storm te the spring house
pi e " bor you said she. Said he with a
»jf e J" ! smile, dear madam, I have a good
So out • otne ’ o 'der than you are, who would
co»» 'V, w . orse storm than this, to milk the
(j 0 ’ bring the milk to the poorest man
ff «nt£L h . i ‘ r 1 equeBt ; or to bring the milk
I ftaij .i* 1 * house, without skimming, to
y ou . e mosl abject of the human race.—
•bo. iIL a good vvifa at borne, says
Biy' r | 1 have, said he, and she keeps
El >ndln 68 ol® 80 and whole, and notwith
lorn nV° U ca 'l®d m e “an old ragamuffin,”
"lotheal Mllan ? e d *o appear abroad .in the
1 mu,. *® ar 'oaoy good company. Well,
your \,. n j 6 ® s ’. says she. that when yotihave
diiijg ocimmed hat off, you look mid-
I lor ’ bul 1 want you to eat and be off,
greai tvJl" 1 1 “® & re 10 dry the gentlemen’s
•b* teti ai ™ umbrellas by; and among
Cru, ~ ® ® x P ecl Judge Crane. Judge
1 *y* he, who is Jud|B Orthe? The
VOL. V.
circuit Judge, says she, oae of the supreme
Judges, you old fool.
WeM, says the Judge, I will bet a goose,
that Judge Crane has not had, and will not
have a great coat on his back, or an umbrel
la over his head this day. You old goose,
soid she, I care nothing for your bets. Eat
and be off, I tell you Judge Crane is to be
here, and we’ve no room for you. I don’t
care, said he, one rye straw more for Judge
•Crane than 1 do for myself, and it has got to
be so late, that, if he has to come at this lime
of the day, be Would more likely go directly
to the court house and stay till dinner time,
than go to any tavern ; and if business was
very urgent, he would be very likely to stay
away even (Vom dinner. I know something
about the old codger, and some people say he
is a rusty, fusty, crusty old fudge. Pretty
talk indeed, says the landlady, about the su
preme judge. Now eat your cold cheek and
be off, or be off without eating, just as you
please. 1 tell you, said he. Judge Crane is
not the supreme Judge, and if he were he is
no more fit to be a judge than I am. Well
now be off with yourself, says she. Don’t
be in so great a hurry, said he mildly. I
wish to know who is the landlord here? I
wish to know where be is? He is the high
sheriff of the county, and won’t be home till
night; but if he were here you would not
stay long. Well, madam, said he, give us a
cup of cider to wet my victuals, if you won’t
give me milk. Not a drop says her lady
ship. The Judge who had now got pretty
well warmed and dried, and wished for his
breakfast, pul on a stern countenance, and
positively declared he would not leave the
room and fire until he pleased. But, added
he, if you will grant my request, I will eat
and be off. The cider was immediately bro’t,
and the judge partook heartily of the colla
tion set before h'm, look his broad brimmed
hat, and gently walked to the court house,
where he found good fires and clean floors,
and during the court hours he presided with
dignity and propriety.
When the Judge withdrew, the landlady
anxiously looked after him for some time, as
he walked steadily on towards the court
house, supposing him to be some poor man
summoned up to court as a witness, or some
culprit, or some vagabond who might give
her further trouble in time of courts, and ex
pressed to her servants a desire that they
would see that he did not disturb the gentle
men and the Judges who might put up there.
While some of the girls declared if he did
come, they would use some of his own ex
pressions, which he used respecting Judge
Crane. Let me see says one, “rusty, fusty,
crusty old fudge,” says another.
When dinner was announced, the court
not being thronged, was immediately adjourn
ed, and the day being stormy and cold, the
Judges and lawyers poured into the sheriff’s
tavern; where they were sure of good fires
and good fare, all except Judge Crane, who
walked to a store and purchased a valuable
shawl, and put it into his pocket on the inside
of his coat; then walked quietly to the lav
ern. While he was thus detailed, the land
lady entered the dining room and earnestly
inquired if Judge Crane had come in ? The
answer was, “not yet, madam, and perhaps
he may not come.” The landlady who was
anxious to pay the highest respect to the su
preme judge, retired to the kitchen, not a lit
tle chagrined, or disappointed. In the mean
time the Judge arrived, and being at proper
times very sociable, and at all times fond of
cheering the minds of those present, he be
gan to make some pertinent remarks, and to
tell some lively anecdotes, intended to convey
good morals; which set the whole company
into a roar of laughter. And at this instant,
one of the wailing maids entered the room.to
inform the gentlemen that they might sit
down to dinner. She did her,errand and has
tened back to her mist rest with the tidings,
that the old fusty fellow with his broad
brimmed hat on, was right in among the bare
headed gentlemen, talking as loud as he could,
and all the Judges and lawyers were laugh
ing at him. .Then go, says she, and whisper
to the old man that I wish him to come into
the kitchen. The errand was done accord
ingly, and the judge in a low tone of Voice,
said to the girl, tell your mistress I have a
little business to do with some of these law
yers, and when done, I’ll beoffin the course
of two or three days. The girl returned and
faithfully rehearsed the message, and added
that she believed the old fellow was drunk,
or he would not have said, “as soon as my
business is done, I’ll be off in two or three
' days.”
Well, Betty, says the mistress, go back,
and when the gentlemen begin to sit down,
do you stand by the head of the table, and
whisper to some gentleman that I wish a va
cant place left at the head of the table for
Judge Crane, and then do you hasten back
and see that John has the cider and other
liquors in good order. And, Mary do you
fill two more tureens with gravy, and put
one at each end of the long table. And,
Martha, do you see that all the clean plates
for change are ready, and that the tart pies,
&c. are in good order. Betty again repaired
to her post at the head of (he table, and soft
ly informed a gentleman of the request of
her mistress. “Certainly” said the gentle
man ; and Betty hastened back to assist John.
The gentlemen now sat down to an excellent
repast, and after a short ejaculatory address
to the throne of grace, delivered by Judge
Crane, in which he adored the Father of all
mercies for feeding all his creatures through
out the immensity of space—invoked a bless
ing on that portion of earthly bounty then be
fore them, and supplicated divine mercy
through the merits of our redeemer, the gen
tlemen began to carve and serve round in
usual form.
EDITH.
THE
Slefrottfr to tijt ZSxttnssion ol tfce atrra of JFrctUom anti ti)t Spread of f&ralt&s ilcfarm.
WHILE THEBE SHALT. BE A WBONO UNSIGHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN’S INHUMANITY TP MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE.
WELLSBOROj TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. NOVEMBER 11, 1858.
AGITATOR.
But alas the Judge was of a singular turn
in almost everything, and had taken a fancy
that if a person eats light food at the same
meal with that which is more solid and hard
er of digestion, that the light food should be
eaten first!; he therefore filled his plate with
some pudding, made of milk, rice and eggs,
and placing himaelf in rather an awkwaid
situation with his left elbow on the table and
his head near the plate, began to eat accord
ing to bis common custom, which was very
fast, although he was not a great eatei. And
some of the gentlemen near the Juuge, fol
lowed bis example as to partaking of the
pudding before the meal, of course a large
deep vessel which had contained that article,
was nearly emptied when Mary approached
with her two additional turreens of gravy,
according l|o the command of her mistress,
and as she set down the last near the Judge,
he says to her in an austere manner. Girl,
bring me a clean plate to eat some salad on.
The abrupt manner in which he addressed
her, and her disgust at seeing him there in
that position, so disconcerted the poor girl
that she did not see that any one except the
Judge had partaken of the pudding, nor did
she know what he meant by salad, but she
observed that the large pudding pan was
nearly empty, and then hastened back with
her utmost speed to her mistress, and address
ing her with, Lord madam, that old fellow’s
there yet, and he is certainly crazy or drunk,
for he is down at the table, and has eaten
more than a skipple of the rice pudding al
ready, and has his nose right down in a plate
ful now, shoveling it in like a hog; and told
me as if he were lord of the manor, to bring
him a clean plate to eat salad on. Bless me,
where can-we get salad at this time of the
year? And the gentlemen have not done
carving, and not one has begun to eat meat,
much less to eat a tub full of pudding.
Aye, he’ll get a clean plate, says Martha,
before gentlemen want clean plates.
I’ll clear him out, says the mistress, and
starts for the dining room, burning with in
dignation.
The Judge was remarkable for not giving
unnecessary trouble to any body where he
put np, and generally ate whatever was set
before him without making any remarks;
and seldom made use of more than one plate
at a meal, but at this lime he had observed
near him, a dish of beautiful raw while cab
bage, cut up and pul into vinegar, (which the
Dutch at Poughkeepsie call cold slaw, which
he called salad,) and he wished for a separ
ate plate to prepare some of it for his own
fancy. The carving and serving were not
yet finished, when he expected the clean plate,
and the landlady at the door of the dining
room, determined to drive him out. She ad
vanced with a firm step to the door, and fixed
her keen eye sternly on the Judge, when he
turned his eye that way, and observing her,
mildly said, Landlady, can I have a clean
plate to eat some salad on. A clean plate
and salad ! retorted the landly indignantly, I
wish you would come into the kitchen until
gentlemen have dined ; 1 had reserved that
seat for Judge Crane. The company were
struck with astonishment, and fixed their eyes
alternately on the landlady and on the Judge ;
and sat or stood in mute suspense—when the
Judge gracefully raised himself up in his
chair, carelessly folding his arm across his
breast, then pulling his head awkwardly on
one side. You reserved this seat for Judge
Crane,, did you, landlady ? Indeed I did,
says she. It was very kind, says he in an
ironical lone, but if you will step to the door
and see if he is coming, or send one of the
servants to call for him, with your permis
sion and (he approbation of these gentlemen,
with whom I have some business to do, I
will occupy his place until you shall find the
Judge. Find the Judge, said she with em
phasis, go look for him yourself, not send me
nor my servants. I gave you your break
fast this morning for chopping a little wood,
because you said you had no money ; and I
expected you would go away quietly and keep
away, and now you must come here to dis
turb gentlemen at dinner. Here the whole
joke burst on the minds of the gentlemen
present, who fell into a loud fit of laughter.
After the tumult had a little subsided, says
the Judge mildly, did I not chop wood to pay
for my breakfast ? Indeed you did, says
sho, and said you had no money. I told you
the whole truth, says the Judge, but I have a
beautiful shawl worth more than ten dollars
which I just now bought, and will leave it
with you in pawn, if you will only let me
eat dinner with these gentlemen. Here the
gentlemen were biting their lips to keep from
laughter. How did you buy a shawl worth
more than ten dollars without money ? 1
bought it on credit says he. And where did
you find credit to that amount ? says she. 1
brought it from home, said he. That is a
likely story, and something like your abuse
of Judge Crane this morning, said she. How
could 1 abuse the Judge if he was not present?
said he. Why, says she, you called him
a rusty, fusty fudge, and old codger, and said
you did not care a rye straw more for him
than you did for yourself. And here the
whole company were in an uproar of laugh
ter again. But as soon as it a little subsided
one of the gentlemen asked the landlady how
she knew that the gentleman she was address
ing was not Judge Crane. He Judge Crane!
said she; he looks more like a snipe than a
crane !
Heie the loud laughter, burst forth a third
lime. And, after a little pause, the Judge
said; “I must confess that I am not a bird
of very fine feathers, but I isssure you that I
am a Crane , and a crane is ofien a very useful
instrument; I saw a very good one in your
kitchen this morning; and sometimes an in
strument called a ‘crane,’ is of incalculable
use, madam-” Before she had time to reply
some of the gentlemen with whom she was
acquainted, assured her that she was talking
with the presiding Judge. Astonished and
confounded, she attempted some excuse, and
hastily asked his pardon for her rudeness.
The Judge had, by this time, unobserved,
taken from his pocket the beautiful shawl,
and folded it at full length one way, and in a
narrow form the other, and it being of a very
fine texture, appeared more like an elegant
sash than like a valuable shawl. When he
arose with graceful dignity, and with a half
smile, advanced a tew steps towards the land
lady, saying, “it is not my province to par
don, but it is my business to judge; and I
judge that you and 1 shall hereafter be belter
friends—and I judge also, that you will, with
out hesitation, receive this as a present, if
not as a pawn.” So saying, he gently laid
it over her shoulders and across her arms,
saying: “Take it, madam, and do not at
tempt to return it, for it was purchased on
purpose for a present for you.” She hastily
retired in confusion, hardly knowing what
she did, and took with her the shawl worth
twelve dollars instead of ten.
And here were three parties who had each
two good things. The landlady had a good
shawl and a good lesson to meditate upon—
the gentlemen had a good dinner and a good
dinner and a good joke to talk over—and the
judge had good intentions in the joke, and
good will and ability to follow up the lesson
given.
The Human Hand.
Man is’.'we suppose, the feeblest animal on
earth in proportion to bis size, yet easily
walks as sovereign, chains the behemoth to
his march, tows the leviathan by his warp,
makes the everlasting hills bow before him,
lays his mandate and his chain on the giant
forces of universal nature- And it is chiefly
by means of the hand, —by the elevation,
expansion, and more complex organization of
the very digits, which we trace in less perfect
development in the anterior limbs of every
quadruped. The hand, —so slender and flex
ible that it might seem fitted neither for do
ing nor enduring, but whose closely knit
webwork of nerves and sinews concentrates
the entire strength of the body, and wields a
greater force compared with its magnitude
than is found in the whole world beside, —
combining all mechanical powers in one, the
fingers jointed levers, ihe sinews pulleys, the
wrist-joint a perpetual screw, without whose
ball and socket movements no screw of steel
could find its way into its bed,—one moment
lifting heavy weights or striking ponderous
blows and ihe next subserving the most deli
cate uses, dissecting the microscopic pro
portions of a flower-cup or an insect’s wing,
marking with ihe graver air-lines subtle as
sunbeams, copying the vanishing hues of
clouds a'nd rose-buds and the human coun
tenance, embodying thought in forms so
eihereal that (hey might seem traced by Ihe
breath of viewless spirits,—this is ihe ma
chine which renders all other marines pos
sible, ibis is the prehensile and shaping agen
cy by which Nature is put to the torture for
her secrets and to the test for her resources,
this the means and pledge of man’s viceroy
alty upon the earth. There’is no mechani
cal operation, whether of ruderjiandicrafi or
of the highest art, the capacity v of which is
not inherent from the hand, lhe f of
which is not one of the complex,j movements
of which the hand is susceptible,! the efficacy
of which does not depend in the last resort
on the guidance or restraint of the hand.—
Thus when we make water or steam take the
place nominally of tho hand, it really sup
plies not manual skill, but simply a substitute
for muscular power. With the living hand
we construct the engine or machine; we
copy in it some portion of the divinely
shaped pair, or rather, as they are by divis
ion and combination, the countless multitude
of instruments comprehended within our two
wrist-joint and palms and our ten digits; and
then with our own hands we start accelerate,
or check the working of these artificial
hands, —barely supplying to these last from
the impetus of falling water or expanding
steam Ihe force which accruses to human
muscles from the economy t of the vital or
ganism. j ]
Terril, of the Lafayette Journal is pretty
good on a sharp reply. A correspondent
wishes to know the reason of the hump on
the camel's back. Terril replies:
“We will mention for our correspondent’s
benefit, that the Arabs have two reasons in
regard to it. One is that the camel took
offence at not being allowed to head the pro
cession into the Ark, and got his back up,
and Allah, as a just punishment for his van
ity and presumption, and as a memorial and
perpetual warning, never permitted him to
get it down again. The other is, that ho was
grazing a distance from the Ark, when Noah
pul out his bills for sailing, and in order to
reach Ihe boat in time, was compelled tn
hump himself in the most extraordinary
manner.”
During the examination of a witness, as to
the locality of the stairs of a house, the coun
sel asked him:
“Which way did the stairs run?”
The witness, a noted wag, replied, that—
“ One way (hey 'ran up stairs, but the oth
er way they ran down stairs.’’
The learned counsel winked his eyes, and
then took a look at the ceiling.
Boswell observing to Johnson that there
wa* no instance of a beggar dying for want,
in the streets of Scotland —“I believe sir, you
are very right,” says Johnson; “but this
does not arise from the -want of beggars, but
the impossibility-of starving n Scotchman.
The Last Victim of the Gauntlet
An imperial re-script, bearingthe dale ol
the 20lh of August, 1854, and the signature
of the Emperor Francis Josephvpf Austria,
has abolished for evermore, withinjilhe realms
of the whole Austrian empire, that terrible
chastisement—running the gauntlet. Terri
ble it was, indeed—a cruel and]i barbarous
remnant of those dark and dismal times
called the middle ages. 1 witnessed the last
execution of this kind, and record it for the
benefit of those who still cling wit}) a strange
fondness even to the worst legacies of by
gone centuries. >
On an autumn morning, in the year 1851,
the garrison of the fortress of Thepesienstadt,
on the Eger River, in Bohemia, tvas formed
in a large square on the spacioiis place be
fore the residence of the commandant, fn
the middle of the square, drawtilup in file,
stood a company of a rifle bnttalidp, to which
the delinquent belonged. It was: unarmed,
each private (there was three hundred) being
provided with a switch, and placed at a small
distance from his next man. At the tenth
stroke of the clock the drums were beaten,
and amidst a silence deep and oppressive the
prisoner was marched into the square.
He was as fine-looking a map? as ever I
have set eyes upon—tall, powerful, and well
formed. His handsome fealuresjjto which a
black moustache gave a bold find martial
expression, shown forth in the ftil) glow and
vigor of manhood, only they were! of a deadly
paleness. It,
He was a non-commissioned jbfficer, and
duriug the last campaign in Italy, in 1849,
he had distinguished himself in a man
ner that his superior officers had liepommend
ed him for promotion. Austria istmore gen
erous than England towards those'that shed
their blood in her service, and he {would have
been made a commissioned officer-long since
—in spile of his humble origin titl'd his pov
erty —if it had not been far a fatal impedi
ment. This impediment was nis own pas
sionate temper; he very chbjeric man ;
harsh and brutal towards his inferiors, morose
and stubborn towards his superiors whenever
they deemed it necessary to checkf or rebuke
him. He was hated by the men to the ut
most. . There was not a private ih the whole
battalion that had not vowed hijtn revenge.
He had never made one friend,! pof did he
care to have one. Strict in-the performance
of his military service—the mosljminor du
ties of, which he discharged with! Ihe utmost
exactness —he went his own wayj,|proud, re
served, solitary. Innumerable wpre the pun
ishments which he had brougtyj' upon the
men; for however slight of ihe-offence
might be, be was sure to pass- it over in
silence. : ] ‘
His superior officers respected {Him for his
usefulness, bis ability, and his .exactitude,
but they did not like him, The evident lack
of humanity in the man made him an ob
ject of doubt rather than of love, j {Moreover,
there was a vague rumor about 'hjs having
once struck at his own officer in thy midstof
a pellmell caused by a hand-to-hanß encoun
ter with the enemy. The report! never look
a clear shape, the officer having Itieen killed
in Ihe engagement, and the gosslpings of a
a few wounded soldiers having been much
100 incoherent and contradictory to lead to a
formal investigation of the matter f- besides,
it was at the victory of Novarra.} He had
greatly distinguished himself, and old Field-
Marshal Radelzky had, with his own hands,
affixed the golden medal on his breast. The
rumor, however, together with the! knowledge
of his harsh and violent temper) daused his
name to be erased from the list of those that
wore recommended for higher promotion.
When ihis incident was made -.known to
him, he became even more sullen,'more rigid,
more cruel than ever ; but always,ias it was
well understood, for the benefit ofjth|e service,
the slightest demand of hej performed
with the same immutable striclnepias he en
forced them to be done by others! \
A few weeks pervious to the dreadful pun-'
ishmenl which he had now to undergo, he
was mounting guard in the outworks with
some twenty or twenty-five men|ofniis' own
company. It was a chilly rainy |ntght: and
when the sentries were relieved! they were
glad to stretch themselves—wet ds they were
—upon the floor near the large stove in the
middle of the guard.room. Tlje jfloor nut
being very clean, (floors seldom jare in these
localities,) and the while of the men
of the men being wet, it was no wonder that
the dirt adhered to them with a tenacity that
defied all exertions to get it off, Iwhen the
wearers were roused by this sergealat to pre
pare for standing guard once Aaqre. The
more they tried to rub their ciolhts'clean the
more sturdily he lent a helping 'hand to their
endeavors by an application of the sad equip
ment of every Austrian non-cdm|nissioned
officer—the stick. Whilst he was fully at
work, culling away at the men with a pow
erful arm, the door opened, and] tfie officer
on duty entered the guard-room, j j
“Attention !’’ commanded the sergeant;
and, saluting his superior, madi. the usual
report that nothing worth -rerdarjting had
happened. The officer, a young ensign,
fresh from the military school, apdlalmost a
boy, took no notice whatever of | this impor
tant news, but asked the sergeant in a brisk
and somewhat impetuous manner,' he
was again striking the men for ’’l’ ;
The sergean', already much ianhoyed at
this interference, gave a surly and Jinwilling
answer; and, when the youngj officer re
buked him, in a severe and perhaps some
what haughty manner, the yioleouand pas
sionate man, losing all self-control], lifted up
his hand against his officer. | i •
It was but one fatal moment, iguick as'
lightning. The uplifled hand neveifdeaoend
ed ; it was caught by a dozen powerful arms.
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NO. 15.
He was felled to the ground and disarmed.
Half an hour afterwards he foundhimself in
irons in the casemates. -
Lifting the arm against a superior is con
sidered a capital crime. In this case it had
been committed while both parlies were on
duty, and the Austrian military laws are the
very last in the world to be trifled with.
The following day he was tried by court
martial, and sentenced to be shot. When
the sentence was forwarded to the competent
authority for ratification, it happened to be
the superior's anniversary day ; capital pun
ishment was commuted, the criminal bad to
run the gauntlet.
A cruel act of grace was this commute
lion I When the first sentence had been read
over to him, he had remained cold and im
passable ; not a muscle of his proud face
stirred. He did not fear death ; he had
looked it in the face many a time without
flinching, and to die in the open air, pierced
byi a dozen balls—a soldier’s death—what
should he care much for that ? But when
hel was informed that be had run the gauntlet
twice through his company, after having been
previously degraded, he trembled for the first
lime in his life. He knew of many a soldier
who had run the gauntlet thrice through a
whole battalion, and not been the worse for
it after all ; he knew of some that had even
married afterwards, and brought up families
of children ; he was fully aware that issue
of this terrible torture depended entirely upon
the disposition of the men. Dreadful reflec
tion ! Above alt, he thought of the shame.
the dishonor—and his proud heart was well
nigh giving way.
On the evening previous fo the punishment,
the second rifle battalion of Kherenhuller in
fantry would have been unfit for service ; the
men were drunk. They had got up a ca
rousal in joy and honor of the coming day.
But in the morning they were sober enough.
The drums ceased to beat as soon as the
prisoner had arrived in the middle of the
square; his escort fell back. He stood alone
near the right wing of the company. There
was a dead silence; not a respiration was to
be heard from all the thousands gathered on
the spot. The eommanding officer read the
sentence over to/him for the second time.
This done, he exhorted the men, according to
custom, to dispense with all feelings of com
passion, and to do their duty comfortably to
the la.w. The colonel went through this part
of the formality in a quick and hurried man
ner, as if he were unwilling to perform it.
So he was ; he knew but too well that, in
this instance, there was no need whatever for
exhortation. These preliminaries being over
the prisoner was delivered into the hands of
the provost.
When the latter tore off from his uniform
the golden lace and galloons—the marks of
his military rank—throwing them, together
with the gold medal, at his feet the face of
the unfortunate man became purple, and his
dark eyes flashed .fire. When he was stripped
of his coal and shirt, and placed at the entry
of, the terrible street through which he had
to pass, he became pale again. Two soldiers
went ahead of him ; they marched backward,
with their bayonets presented to his breast,
so as to force him to keep measure to a drum
which brought up the rear. The drum was
muffled ; its slow and dismal beats sounded
like the music of a funeral procession.
When he received the first stroke his fea
tures assumed an expression of pain, and his
firm-set lips quivered slightly. This was,
however, the only sign of sensation. Crossing
his arms over his breast and pressing his
teeth close together, his proud face remained
henceforth immovable. His merciless ene
mies enjoyed but an incomplete triumph after
all; they might slash his body in pieces, but
his proud and indomitable spirit they could
not break. The blows descended with a
fearful violence upon him. After the first
dozen, blood came ; but never did he utter
one single exclamation of pain ; nevei*—not
even with a look—did he implore for mercy.
An expression of scorn and disdain was
deeply set on his face, as pale as death.
When he had reached at last the left wingof
the company, his lacerated back presented a
fearful appearance. Even his most exis
peraled enemies might well have been satis
fied now ; if it had been but possible, the
commanding officer himself would have in
terceded in his behalf: but this was not even
to be thought of; the law must have its
course. They faced him right about ; he had
to make the same way back again.
There was one formality connected with
this punishment which was a cruel, barba
rous and shameful mockery ; the delinquent
hod to thank his executioners for his tortures.
When the victim had arrived at the file
leader of the right wing of his company, and
the dreadful execution was over at last, ha
threw one last, long look, full of contempt,
at his tormentors. Then he was seen stag
gering like a drunken man towards the com
manding officer. His eyes, swollen with
blood, beamed jvith an unnatural brightness,
his respiration was short and painful; touch
ing his head with his right hand, in token of
the military salute, he said in a voice that
come out of his throat with a rattling sound,
but that was nevertheless distinctly audible
all over the place: “I have to thank your
honor for this exquisite punishment,” and fell
down dead.
The “first Church in Hartford,” Connect
icut (congregation,) must be a model of its
kind. It has been in existence two hundred
and twenty-five years, and has never dis
missed a pastor. It has had ten in all, nine
of whom have lived and died among.their
people ; and the tenth, the venerable ' Dr.
3 Hawes, has now been in charge of it for
forty years, and seems likely to remain, as
his predecessor did, till death.
3 months. 6 months. 12 mb’s