Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, March 12, 1868, Image 1
4
' ?- ??a??
| " ==== iin'jr''fi!)::'.t J^g |ttt^aptr: /or % promotion of % ^political, Sochi ^gridto! :tnb (Jowrtkl $ittmsfs of % ~~ ^
VOL. 14. YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MARCH 12, 1868. NO. 11.
1 - - - l - ? ? -- -1 * i mi 1* i _Li_. _t_i_ I it. - l . i ./ viA -it: a. u_L,.LLitn 1 ji.r
lie
BULLET MARKS.
A WIMBLEDON STORY.
We were sitting around our tent one evening last
year at Wimbledon?the "we," being our major,
the captain and sub of our company, his covering
sergeant, corporal Williams, and a certain sapper,
to-wit, myself. We were drinking pale ale, and
smoking, as was every one else in the hundred
tents around us.
"Here's my last bull's-eye," and the sergeant
produced from his cap-pouch a flattened bullet,
turned inside out as neatly as possible.
"What's the cause of all that, I wonder, said the
corporal.
"You see," said the captain?being an engineer
he was bound to know?"when the point of the
bullet strikes the target, part of the lead is melted
by the development of heat caused by the sudden
arrest of the bullet's motion, and goes off in the
splash, the rest of the bullet is softened by the
heat; and inasmuch as the parts must stop m tneir
order of succession, the edge of the cup of the bullet
is driven in level with the base of the cup. Is
that so, Major?"
"Yes, quite right; but if you like, I can spin you
a yarn about these said bullets, that may just last
out these weeds."
"Well, let's have it"
I had a sort of second-cousin, Gerald Ashton,
who had been brought up witWmyself and my sister,
my father being his guardian.
We had all been like brothers and sisters, when
one day he woke up to find he could not live without
a nearer relationship to her. He spoke to the
old gentleman, and there was a little family fracas.
He had only a hundred a year, and my father
did not think that was enough, though Gerald did;
there was no objection at all in other respects?let
him earn some more and they would see?wait a
little?you know the kind of thing an old gentleman
would say. Well, it was of no use. He said
he felt himself a burden; there was no scope for
1 ' 1 ? L. J!J
his energies, and he would go?ana go ue uiu.
I urged upon him that he should get something
to do. He had been well educated, and a clericship,
or something of the kind, could be got for
him if he still resolved not to go on at the hospital.
No?he would go. There was only one thing he
did do well, that was shoot; and he would carry
his abilities to a market where they would be appreciated.
And so, at the mature age of twentytwo,
he left us, his profession, his home, and his
prospects.
He disappeared, and six months after we heard
he was with, say the 40th Dragoons in India. - 1
"We wrote, and offered to buy his discharge, but
he would "have none of us." He liked it very
well; was already corporal; expected the three
stripes soon; and was "Gentleman Jack" with his
comrades.
Some six months after this I was sent out to India
with a company, and as my sister was getting
thin, and showing other signs of the desirability of
a sea-voyage and a warm climate, it was agreed I
should take her over.
We reached Calcutta, and in a few weeks settled
down.
There was war going on, and I v??o pWcJ In
charge of one of the chief depots for small arms
and ammunition, besides having my regular duties
with my company.
T was down at the store, when my sis
ter arrived, pale and breathless.
"Look, Charles, poor Gerald's in dreadful trouble."
I put her into an office chair, and took the newspaper
and read?
"Yesterday evening as an officer of the 40th
Dragoons Guards was returning to camp, he was
shot at from behind a clump of bushes; the bullet
struck him in the thigh, and lodged in the saddle.
Although wounded so severely, he had sufficient
presence of mind to ride straight to the bushes,
and there found one of his own men, a corporal of
the troop, nicknamed "Gentleman Jack" by his
comrades, whose rifle was still smoking from the
discharge. Fortunately, atthis moment, the guard
arrived, and the man was at once arrested. A
court-martial will, of course, be held at once, and
although the man had previously borne a good
character and is reported to be respectably connected,
it is to be hoped he will receive the proper reward
for so abominable a crime."
"Oh," I said, "thisisall nonsense. Gerald's no
murderer, or else he's very much changed. I'll
see what they say at headquarters."
"Do for God's sake. If anything happened to
Gerald I should never forgive myself, for if I had
run away with him when papa was so cruel, he
never would have enlisted at all."
"Don't talk nonsense, Meggie, but go home,
and I will come with the telegraph news."
I went to headquarters; they gave me permission
to use the telegraph for a question or two.?
The report was not encouraging.
It was our Gerald?the officer had seen the flash
and heard the report?an extremely loud report,
as if there had been two charges of powder in the
carbine.
The bullet was found in the saddle, and one cartridge
was missing from his twenty rounds. Courtmartial
had declared him guilty, and the general's
c MAMfAn/iA Itorl incf orrirp^ T?lf
coimnnauuu ui tuc o^uiguw umujuuv ? >*..
ty lashes in the camp square, and four year's imprisonment
in the civil jail. Sentence to be carried
out on the 12th. Everybody was sorry, but quite
convinced he had tried to murder his superior officer.
No one could understand with what motive.
I did not know what to think; there was more
evidence forthcoming in a day or two, when he had
the papers.
His statement in defence was, that we had jus!
been returning from guard, when he remembered
that he had forgotten to bring in a book one of the
officers had asked him to bring in from the town,
some three miles distant. Without stopping tc
think he walked off at once; got the book, and was
within a half mile of the camp, when he fancied
he saw a tiger. He got behind the bushes tc
watch, and saw one making for the distant camp.
Anxious to secure the prize, he cautiously broke
open one of bis packages, and loaded, to have a
shot at it. He had covered the beast, and was firing
at the tiger, when he heard another reporl
simultaneously with that of his own carbine. He
saw the tiger roll right over as if shot, and thee
bound away. In another instant the officer came
round the tope bleeding, and ordered him into arrest.
He was quite sure that he hit the tiger, and
equally sure that another rifle was fired at the same
moment that he pulled the trigger.
Of course such a lame statement had no effect,
and he was sentenced.
I could not help thinking that there was a flaw
in theevidenoe. How was it if there was, as agreed,
a loud report?which meant a full charge of pow.
der?that the bullet stopped at the saddle instead
of going through both saddle and horse. That was
a great discrepancy, a full charge would have mads
' a loud report, and sent it right through anythinf
at a distance of two hundred yards. I felt then
was something _wrong, and made up my mind t<
go on the spot I had but six days to go in, bu
much might be done. Margaret insisted on goinj
with me in spite of all I could do to keep her a
way.
"Have I not done all you wished me to do sine*
we have been out here? Do, for heaven's sake,
let me have my way in this." a
So we went up the country in post haste. w
I was, of course, as one of the staff, admitted to s]
see Gerald, whom I found terribly cut up.
"I don't mind the imprisonment; it's the disgrace
! The lashes! By God! * I shall kill my- p
self directly I get loose, after it, I know I shall."
"No, no," said Meggie; "don't for my sake.
0, Gerald! if you knew how I have suffered for re
weeks past, you would live for my sake. I do not
care about the brand of lashes. I know you are
innocent, and that there has been some horrible se
blunder committed in this matter. 0, Willie, dear, ir
do think of something to save him." 01
"0, do, there's a good fellow! get me some stuff
that will make an end of me." cj
"Don't talk like that, Gerald; there's some in- it
fernal mistake in it Don't despair yet. Let's go
over the ground again step by step,' and I made u;
him tell me the whole story over again. 6f
"It seems to me, Gerald, we want but a few tl
things to show you are not guilty. We want the ol
tiger you shot at, and that we shant get; and we a
want, the clew to the mystery of the other rifle." h
"0, I've thought of it all till I'm sick. I don't fc
care what happens now. I'll wait till the day be- gi
nr>/1 fJinn Hroolr m\7 llPJlli a- 01
lure it O MJ WU1C VII) auu vuuu vivMik ?, ?
gainst the walls." . w
"Don't be a fool, Gerald! I'm sure yon are in- h
nocent So is Margaret" b
"Yes; so are a hundred others; but it's all no la
use. In three day's I am disgraced for life, if I w
live." U
"Well, I must leave you now, and see what I
can do." ' ' w
"Let me have five minutes with Meggie, will h
you?"
I then left them alone for some ten minutes, 0
and then told Meggie she must go home with me. p
I was beaten; I o6uld not see how I could get J,
any fresh evidence, and without that a reprieve?a d
postpontment?was impossible. a
I went to the wounded officer, the captain of n
his own company, and got him to tell his own sto- p
ry; it was just the same thing over again, always t<
the exceedingly loud report, and the fouled and 0
still smoking carbine. a
"I would," said the captain, "have given the
price of my commission rather than have had it p
happen. He's a fine fellow as ever sat a horse, f(
brave, kind, and as thorough a gentleman as the 0
colonel himself; I always made him my orderly g,
when I could, so as to have company. I declare u
to you that I did my best at the Court-martial for
him, and got into disgrace with the general pre- 0
siding for "coloring my statements"?that was his ^
expression?so as to favor the prisoner. I almost r,
snivelled when I heard the sentence, as if he had t]
been my brother. The men are mad about it; there n
has not been a lash or public punishment of any
kind in the regiment for the last twenty-five years." ^
I hardly knew how to pass time; I tried to
think, but my ideas only traveled in the same old ^
grooves again. u
I invited the assistant-surgeon to come up to
my quarters, and introduced him to my sister. He h
was quite a young fellow, and seemed quite flat- w
tered oy my simple accenuon, ior m me uiuiy mey a
have not made up their minds whether a medical
officer should be treated as a gentleman ; but the ^
strangest thing I ever saw in my life was my sis- j
ter's conduct. Of course, sneaking ro vou fellows
I shan't be misunderstood, and some of you have
seen her. She laid herself out to please him to an
extent I never should have thought my dear grave
Meggie capable of; sang to him, played to him,
and made eyes at him till I thought her brain was n
turned. She said she should so like to see his T]
quarters, asked him to ask us to lunch, and shut ^
me up like a rat-trap when I ventured to him that g:
it might not be convenient.
Well, he went away at last as mad as she. I
spoke to her after he was gone, and she fell into
my arms, sobbing as if her heart was breaking, jj
and then, without a word of explanation, ran out tj
of the room. 0
Next day we went to his quarters, and nothing tj
would satisfy her but that he should mix up some
medicine for her out of the bottles of his travelling a
case. There she was, handling, and sniffing, and
tasting everything, like a child of ten rather than ^
a girl of eighteen. She sent him about the room;
made him bring books from the opposite side of it, q
so that she might read about the properties of the Q
drugs; and, in short, behaved so like a lunatic that
I thought the trouble about Gerald must have af- ^
fected her mind. I got her away at last, and in- '
tended to insist on her remaining in the house and
putting some ice to her head. It was quite unnecessary;
the minute we left the surgery she was
calm and silent as a man. c
Well, the /lays passed in some sort of dreary
fashion till the evening of the 11th. I had been
asked during the day to go down with the officers
to see some rifle practice, at some temporary marks, '
and I went down.
* ' ' - ? T J?
It was ratner laie wneu x roue up iu mc mmg
point, and they were just leaving off; and one of
them came up and said?
"I say, Captain, tell us the cause of these new
bullets turning inside out ?" and he handed me a
bullet reversed; just such another as Williams has *
in his hand. 0
I took it, just to explain the matter to him, when
a thought struck through my mind like a" flash of
lightning.
"Saved, by God!" I exclaimed. "Who's got
the bullet out of the saddle ?"
"What bullet?" c
"Gerald's?my cousin's." 1
"Oh! 'Gentleman Jack's'affair. The doctor's
got it." ?
"Where is he?" 1
"Don't know?quarters, I think." ^
1 "No, he's come into town; I saw him on the r
road as we came by."
I sped on into town, leaving them to think what *
1 they pleased; and spent more than two hours *
! finding the doctor. At last I caught him.
In another minute we were riding full gallop to (
1 his quarters. % *
i He had the bullet?a little bruised and singular1
ly flattened, and blunted at the point?it must ?
> have been just spent when it struck. f
I then went to the sergeant who had charge of {
the nineteen rounds of ammunitionlhat were found
^ in Gerald's pouch. About midnight I contrived c
to find him, and after some little delay I got pos c
> session of them. c
T '1 ?1?? ~4 nr?r1 WA pnnin.nrAf] 1
' I men rciurueu vu mu uuvwt, u,..^ w?r
1 the nineteen bullets with the one found in the sad- 1
> die. I then ran to the telegraph clerk, roused him t
out of bed, and told him to telegraph to the headI
quarters of Calcutta, to my lieutenant in charge of i
the magazines. (
After an hour's waiting, ringing at the bell, an (
, answer came that the night-watchman would fetch 1
the lieutenant I then sent message No. 1. c
r "Examine the books, and see the date on which (
, the last ammunition was sent for the use of the i
40th Dragoons; find the same parcel, and careful1
ly remove one cartridge from each of twenty pack- J
s ets, selected at random ; take out bullets and re- f
i move plugs; and send No. in base of cup of bul-" t
: lets." i
; The answer came that he understood, and would c
) rouse up the people to do it. 1
t After an hour and a half the answer came
; back? i
"All the bullets are numbered 5, with a dot on ^
the right." 1
9 I then sent message number 2?
"Examine what cartridges bear the No. 2 with a
dot on the left, and report to whom issued, and n
hen; report quickly?a man's life?depends on
seed." tl
Again I waited another hour. No answer came, h
It wjIs getting late?half past two; at four the ai
arade would take place. I urged more speed. s<
The reply can a:?
'We have ten men at work breaking open bar- a
sis, and searching. No No. 2 yet found."
At last it came?
"One barrel No. 2 in store; the rest of the
ime shipment was damaged and useless, and sold a
i bulk to native dealers for value as old metal, at
ie of the clearance soles, some time ago." a
I had learned all I could. I spurred hack to
imp with the bullets, from which I never parted, si
i my pouch. I shall never forget the scene. a:
In the middle of the camp the men were drawn
p in three sides of a square, in the centre of the w
juare were the triangels, with Gerald lashed to 01
iem. I saw them, as I came down the hill, take w
EF his jacket and lash his wrists. I sped on. I ti
>uld see the old colonel, with the paper in his ft
and, standing alone, and then I saw nothing more ai
ir a dip in the road concealed them ; as I rose a- cl
ain to the crest at less than a quarter of a mile, I b
iw a woman rush in frjom between the ranks toards
the triangles, holding something in her ri
and. I darted on, and rushed into the isquare, &
lit just in time to seize the farrier's arm as the *
sh was descending, and to see that the woman p
as my sister, and that she was being led away by tl
no sergeants. tl
"Stop, Colonel, for the love of God 1" I cried, n
ith my hand still grasping the farrier's aim: "I a
ave evidence to prove the man not guilty." tl
I then showed the Colonel the bullet that had
jrae from the saddle, and the others from the b
ouch, and pointed out that while one was marked
!o. 2, the others were all marked No. 5, with a
ot. I assured him, on my honor as an offiijer and 0
gentleman, that it was almost impossible that a D
umber 2 bullet could, by any chance, get into a 0
acketof number 5 bullets. He was only too glad
) hear me, and agreed to postpone the execution
f the sentence till further orders from the Gener1
of the Division. P
I've heard some shouts, and I've seen some dis- v
lays of enthusiasm in my time, but I never shall b
)rget the shout that rose the minute that the Col- 0
doI had pronounced that the execution ot the w
intencc on Corporal Ash ton would be postponed D
ntil further orders. n
The men had been standing at "attention," many
f them with tears rolling down their cheeks, but v
rben they heard "postponedj" they broke ranks,
ashed up to the triangles, cut the lashings, broke
le cat, screamed, shouted, and danced like mad- a
len. , " ^
"Three cheers for 'Gentleman Jack,' and his
ife! Again ! again, boys!" ti
Officers and all joined in for a few minutes, t
"here stood the old gray-headed Colonel in the lidst
of a scene that out-bedlamed Bedlam.
As for me I was like a man in a dream: I felt a
undred hands grasping mine. I had my sister z
jbbing in my arms, and then I heard the Colonel
ly to the bugler, "Sound the assembly."
What a change! in less than a minute I stood
y the fallen triangles in the centre of three lines
f living statues. Not a sound; not a movement
olioon, **ofort? juui wluiuii auvl l/ioak |
ff your men," said the Colonel; and then walked
way with myself and sister.
"But what did your 6ister do there ?"
Well, she had promised Gerald that he should
ot suffer the disgrace of the4ash ; and had, duing
the hour 1 thought she was fooling with the
octor, managed to get hold of his bottle of prusic
acid, and had rushed out with half of it for
im and half for herself; and her appearance had
o thoroughly surprised every one that she had
eached the triangles, and almost raised it to his
ps, when the doctor recognized, his own blue botle,
struck her hand a violent blow, and dashed it
n to the ground, besides disabling ber from geting
ber own share.
"And bow did the affair end ? Was the Gener1
of the Division satisfied?"
I don't think he would have been with that evience
alone, and so we went about to hunt for a
lore. I begged that, as we had found so much, I
lerald might be permitted to accompany s. party a
f search, under a guard, to find the missing tiger, y
We went there. Meggie insisted on joining us. p
ill the officers off duty went, and about half the f
len. s
Gerald then pointed out the spot where he had c
tood, and where he shot the tiger; and from that I
oint we started, crossing and re-crossing, till there s
ould not have been anything as large as a half i
rown that could be hidden. f
Meggie and I were riding in front of the line, t
rhen Meggie exclaimed? I
"What a horrible smell comes from that copse." f
"Don't smell anything, Meg." f
"You've lived here so long that you've to sense g
f smell left." s
Of course, as Meggie was with us, Blinkers was t
here too. Blinkers advanced to the copse? c
laused?and rushed underneath the grass, barking 1;
s if infuriated.
"There is something in there, Willie." j
Some of the others coming up, we pushed our t
ray into the depths, guided by the frantic bark of t
Jlinkers, and, after being much scratched and I
orn, found ourselves in the centre of a trampled I
irele of jungle grass, with the half-devoured re- i
nains of a large tiger. 5
The doctor was sent for, and the wound discov- s
red ; the beast had evidently been lamed, the bul- c
et breaking the fore leg. It was also evident that, 1
rounded as it was, it had lingered on till it was s
nere skin and bone, and had died only within the a
ast few days. Assisted by some of the natives, %
he good-natured doctor commenced the horrible ]
ask of searching for the bullet, and, after half an f
lour's labor, the most disgusting he had ever un- 1
Icrgone, it was found flattened against the large i
>one of the hind leg, and handed to me. 1
Never shall I forget the pleasure I felt when I I
iaw on the rescued bullet, the No. 5, with a dot as c
resh and clear as if it had just come from the I
jressing machine. I
Great was the rejoicing that night in the camp 1
?f the 40th. Blue fires were ; burnt the band i
auie and serenaded Meggie. The whole of the 1
ifficers, including the old Colonel, came :>s to a >
evee; but still I felt there was one thing more to
>e found out How did the No. 2 bullet get into j
he saddle ? s
At IcDgth I inquired whether any of the officers t
nissed any of their arms. Curiously enough the e
>nly missing arm was a gun belonging to the wound- I
;d Captain. I asked did he remember the size. 1
5e did. It was just a size smaller than the bore i
)f the regimental carbines. You could gel; a gov- i
;rnment bullet down by a good deal of hammer- s
ng. t
I now propounded my theory, that the bullet t
STo. 2 had been fired by the Captain's missing rifle, I
or the point of the bullet was marked with rings, t
ind considerably flattened. Now, there was nothng
in the flesh, and nothing in the saddle to pro- i
luce these marks, and they must, therefore have c
>een made before firing. e
I then proposed that a full search should be t
nade with dogs, for at least two miles round from s
vhere the shot was fired, to see if any traces could j
)e found of either the man or the gun.
We made the most careful search; presently I i
ame to a stone on the road itself; marked in a
lost peculiar manner. 77
"What's the cause of these marks?" said I to
le farrier of the troop, who had volunteered to
elp, and who said he never .felt more grateful to
ny one in all his life, than he did to me for the
jueezing of his wrist so hard that day.
"What's the cause ? It's been used as a homier
for something?a nail in a shoe."
"Nail-heads are square." ,
' 'True for you?these are round.''
"Do you think a ramrod would make these
larks?"
' 'It just would. Somebody's been driving down
hard bullet with it"
"So I think. Now take (lie stone and throw it
raight over that gape into the middle of the copse
rid I'll mark where it seemito fall"
He threw it and marking the spot, we found our
ay into the jungle; and there, within a few yards
f the stone, under the long leaves, we found what
e sought?the remains of. a native, stripped enrely
of flesh and skin except on the hands and
:et, and with a great gaping wound in the skull;
nd in the inside, which the ants had perfectly
leaned out, was a large piece of the breech of the
urst gun that he had by his side.
The whole evidence was there; two empty cartdge
cases; another No. 2 bullet; eight untouch
[l cartridges, it was clear enougn toat toe man,
'hoever he was, had taken the Captain's gun and
utting in two charges of powder, rammed down
lie too large bullet with the blows of the stone on
lie now brused end of the ramrod ; and the load
iport that all the witnesses spoke of was as loud
9 the simultaneous report of the discharge of the
liree charges of powder could make it. While
be want of force in the bullet was acoounted for
y the bursting of the gun.
We took home the skull, and the burst rifle, and
be cartridge cases, together with some remnants
f clothing; and we there found out the intended
inrderer to have been one of the syces, or grooms
f the Captain, that he had horsewhipped a month
efore for ill-nring a horse of which he had charge.
"Did he leave the regiment?"
Not a bit?why should he ? The men worshiped
him, and the officer who was wounded was in-'
alided; and he and his comrades managed mature
among them so well, that at the first parade j
f the regiment in Calcutta, some six months afsrwards,
the old Colonel presented to the men a
ew officer, Captain Ashton, adding: "If he
lakes half as good an officer as he did a soldier,
bere will not be a better in Her Majesty's serice."
"And your sister Margaret?"
"0, I've just sent a little case, lined with velvet
nd something inside engraved, "William Gerald
Lshton, from his affectionate uncle."
"Now, lads, there's the 'out lights,' so we'll
urn in quietly, and make bull's eyes at exery shot
i>-morrow."
IfJiSfritattciMis |leadiwj.
' OUR BABY.
To-day we cat the fragrant sod.
With trembling hands, asunder;
And lav this well beloved of God,
Oar dear dead baby, under.
Oh, hearts that ache, and ache afresh,
Oh. tear* * ,
Our hearts are weak, yet being flesh,
Too strong for our restraining !
Pleep, darling, sleep! Cold rains shall steep
Thy little turf-made dwelling;
Thou wilt not know?so far below?
What winds or storms are swelling;
And birds will sing, in the warm spring;
And nowers snau Dioom hdoui inee;
Thou wilt not heed them, love! but oh,
The loneliness without thee!
Father, we will be comforted!
Thou wast the gracious Giver;
We yield her up?not dead, not dead?
To dwell with Thee forever!
Take Thou our child! ours for a day,
Thine while the ages blossom!
This little shining head we lay
In the Redeemer's bosom 1
From the Broadhead (Wis.,) Independent.
TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION.
About the year 1856 there moved to this village
family by the name of Buraham, consisting of
)r. M. L. Burnham, his wife, and two children,
daughter aged sixteen, and a son three or four
ears younger. Br. Burnham was a man of some
iroperty, and of the highest respectability. The
amily soon became active members of our village
ociety, the Doctor beiDg an active member and
ne of the deacons of the Congregational Church.
)r. Burnham was a well read physician, and did
ome practice, in addition to keeping a drug store,
d which his daughter Ellen assisted him as a clerk
or the first two years of the Doctor's residence
lere. Miss Ellen Burnham was by no means a
eautiful girl. Her hair and eyes were dark;
eatures regular, but rather coarse and masculine ;
orm tall, square shouldered, and wanting in that
;race of outline that inspires admiration. If a
tranger were tempted to look at her the second
ime, it would be from surprise at the strong, masuline
appearance, unnatural to a woman, especialy
one so young.
Miss Burnham was not a favorite with our
oung men, nor did she seem anxious to be. Her
ime outside of her domestic duties, was devoted
o instrumental music and to horse-back riding, in
toth of which she was decidedly accomplished,
ler life for the four years subsequent to 1856, was
lot unlike that of other young ladies of the place.
She had a large class, mostly of young girls, whom
he instructed in instrumental music. In the fall
if 1858, a young man by the name of Powell came
lero, and was employed as principal of the village
chnnl. Powell resiened the leadership of the
ehool in the spring of 1858, and started the Rexrrter,
the first paper published in our village,
luring the summer he became intimate with the
amily of Dr. Burnham, and became engaged to
tfiss Burnham in the fall of 1859. The engagenent
soon became known outside of the family,
rhe only surprise excited on account of it was sur)rise
at the taste of Mr. Powell in selecting a girl
>f such masculine appearance. Miss Burnham's
>arents seemed particularly pleased at the pros)ective
marriage of their daughter, whom they.beieved
well qualified to make a good wife for an edtor.
In February, 1860, L. W. Powell and Miss
Sllen Burnham were married by Rev. Mr. Cochun,
the Congregational minister.
The happy couple took a Bhort bridal tour, prcjaratory
for settling down for life. After an ablence
of a week, they returned to the residence of
he bride's parents, who, in honor of their daughtsr's
marriage, sent out invitations to large num>ers
of our citizens to wecome the bride and groom.
rVe were present at the wedding party, and could
mt but think that the bride and groom appeared
emarkably solemn. We did not kiss the bride,
tlthough that was the fashion. Our objection to
he kissing part of the performance was a dislike
o come in contact with an unusually heavy and
Jack moustache, which marred the upper lip of
he bride.
Mrs. Powell became more and more masculine
n her appearance as she grew older. She took a
ase in the Reporter office, and learned the printirs1
trade rapidly. In a short time she proved to
>e the best jour in the office. She also took to
looking, in the cultivation of which habit she
>roved herself a printer.
In the spring of 1861, wehn Powell had been
named about a year and a halfj the 7th Wisoon
sin regiment was organized. Powell's wile not
having presented him with an heir to make home
doubly pleasant, he resolved to go to the war. He
sought, and through the influence of friends, obtained
the appointment of State agent or "wet
nurse" of the gallant 7th, then ordered to Washington.
Mrs. Powell being of a tough and hardy
make, resolved to accompany her husband to the
front No objection being raised, she fitted herself
out and went to Washington. The regiment was
for a time detained at Washington, and Mrs. Powell
made herself happy by working up that moral
town. A few weeks after her arrival there, while
she was riding on horse-back one day, her masculine
appearance attracted the attention of a Government
detective, who made up his mind that
Mrs. Powell was a man and a rebel spy. The detective
followed her about the city and to her quarters.
He dogged her steps for several days, until,
just before the regiment was ordered off, Mrs.
Powell took it into her head to return to Broadhead.
She packed up her rig, took leave of her
husband and the regiment, and started for home.
The detective accompanied her to Chicago on
the same train, and at the Briggs House, where
the lady booked her name, he placed her under arrest
as a rebel in disguise. In vain she claimed to
be a woman, and the wife of a member of the
Seventh regiment. She called in the landlady,
who asserted that she had seen Mrs. Powell at the
house before. Mrs. Powell finally induced the
detective to telegraph to Gov. Randall, of this
State, and to her husband, at Washington. Gov.
Randall telegraphed back that there was such a
lady. A similar telegram arrived from Washington,
and the detective released her and returned to
Washington. In a few days Mr. Powell reached
Chicago, and the unhappy couple made their way
home to this village.
Language cannot describe the feelings of this
unhappy pair. Hardly over the first blush of connubial
felicity, and the wife had become an object
of suspicion to strangers, and was in constant danger
of being arrested as a man. They remained a
few days, when Mrs. Powell informed her parents
that she was going to visit some relations east
The fond parents, little dreaming of the arrest and
subsequent scenes at the Briggs House, urged her
to remain and replenish her wardrobe. She readily
answered that she could procure more becoming
and stylish garments at the East. After her departure,
Mr. Powell procured some cloth, and went
to Mr. Mooney, one of our tailors, and informed
him that he wished to present his brother with a
suit of clothes. He informed the tailor that his
garments fitted his brother, and a suit made to fit
himself would be just the thing. The clothes were
made and expressed to Chicago. Soon after Mr.
Powell informed Dr. Burnham that Ellen had
changed her dress, and was now wearing men's
atttire and living in Chicago.
The doctor was thunderstruck, and the mother
half crazy. The only satisfaction they could get out
of Powell was, that his wife was not a woman, and
would not dress as a woman any longer. The doctor
requested Powell to accompany him, and immediately
went to Chicago, where he found his
daughter dressed in a snit of clothes which Mr.
Powell had had made for his brother. Mrs. P.
informed him that.shewas not a woman, and would
no lopger try to act the part of one. The doctor
insisted upon an examination. At length, to satIftfy
V* am nV? n f ey Inf n T*^ r?
Brainard should examine her. Dr. Brainard did
so, and informed the father that his daughter was
not a female, and had done the best thing to be
done in changing her attire. After much solicitation,
Ellen permitted her father to examine her
and satisfy himself that she was not a woman.
Dr. Burnham then procured a situation for her,
under the name of Edgar Burnham, in the wholesale
drug house of J. H. Bead & Co., in wnose
employ he remained about one year. During this
time he roomed and slept with a young man by
the name of Andrews, now doing business in Crosby's
Opera House block. He also became engaged
to a young lady on State street, the daughter of
his landlady.
We frequently visited young Burnham at his
room on Washington street, .being ourselves at
that time in the law office of Meech & Kedfield,
then officiating in Dearborn street Young Burnham
made up in appearance as a man all the beauty
and grace he lacked as a woman. Chicago had
few and better looking young men than the former
Mrs. Powell. He was a portion of this time organist
at the Plymouth Church, Rev. J. R. Shepherd,
pastor, and for a time organist of one of the
Baptist Churches. We were particularly amused
at his hearty admiration of the girls. He would
leave his piano or work any time to look at a wo?
? ? 1 OCO nAiinnf Hni-nhom rofnrno/) fn "Rrnnrl
LUULI. JLU X UUU, J\JUI15 jLruiuuuui avvui uvu w jltivwu
head, and went' into the drug business with his
father. He was at this time engaged to the State
street lady, who was entirely ignorant of the story
of her lover's life.
We have it from the best authority?a young
man who resided in the family?that Burnham
was a devoted lover, and even after he removed to
Broadhead, corresponded regularly twice a week
with his betrothed, and paid his visits of two or
three days' duration. After her removal to Broadhead,
he was a decided favorite in the society here,
both on account of his good looks and his skill as a
musician. Men, women and children flocked to
the drug store of Burnham & Son, to trade for the
sake of Beeing the young man who was a wife. At
length Dr. Burnham sold out'his property here in
1864, and removed to Waterloo, Iowa, taking Edgar
with him, and there opened a drug store.?
Soon after the removal of the family, Edgar sought
and obtained in marriage, the hand of Miss Gerta
Everette, one of the prettiest girls in Spring Valley,
Rock county, Wisconsin. The Chicago engagement
had been broken off".
They have now been married about three years,
and living at Waterloo. They have no children as
yet, all stories to the contrary, notwithstanding.?
Should they ever have children, or either of them,
we shall make haste to inform our readers of the
fact
It is simply ridiculous to suppose that Edgar
Burnham was ever a mother, and quite as insane,
to believe that he can be a father.
From the best of authority, namely, from Mr.
Powell and the surgeon, who examined him, we
1 ? VJno. "Rumlinm ?q on Tt nnrl will nevpr
A LIU W tllttb JUU^at jltuiuumm. .M ..... .....
be anything else. It is due to the young lady to
whom he was engaged in Chicago to say that she
never knew the make up of her lover from first to
last, and that the engagement was broken off" by
her before his history became known.
Miss Everette, his present wife, knew the facts
of this remarkable case, substantially as we have
related them, and married It willingly of her own
accord, and against the wishes of her parents.
What Our Baby Did.?The other day Nettie
was eighteen months old, and she celebrated the
event in the following style, with a regularity and
promptness which almost defies competition : 1st
Upset a quart of milk on her bran new flannel
gown. 2d. Put the hair brush in the slop tub. 3d.
Took a spoon from the table and plaistered the
carpet and floor with soft lard, and then wiped it
off with the clean dress just put upon her. 4th.
She did not "string spools on the cat's tail," but
took another form of expressing her devotion to
that pet, by trying to cram it into her father's
boot. 5th. Found her way into the pantry and
upset the kerosene into a pan of meal that had
just been sifted for use, and to cap the climax,
greased her little red shoes with the mixture, 6th.
Ate some Dreaa ana mux ana went on ro sieep
These things were done in spite of careful watch
ing and (as we have since learned by experience
is but a fair- sample of her every day life. Babie
are mischievous 1 What can a mother do witl
three or four little fellows at a time and keep th<
house in order? We've resolved never to fine
fault if supper isn't ready just at the right time
Monroe ( Wis.,) Sentinel.
SUFFRAGE IN THE NORTHERN STATES,
There are but five of the Northern States, anc
these five are New England States, which make
no distinction in the right of suffrage, on account
of color.
Maine gives the right of suffrage to every male
citizen of the United States, who has resided ii
the State three months, excepting paupers, per
sons under guardianship, and Indians not taxed.
NV>w HfttnnshirA rulmits as pl?y?tr?rs. "everv mali
inhabitant," excepting paupers, and persons ex
cused from paying taxes at their own request
Vermont gives the ballot to "every man" twen
ty-one years old who has resided one year in th*
State.
Massachusetts admits every male citizen twenty
one years old, excepting paupers and persons un
der guardianship; but no person can vote or b*
eligible to office who is not able to read the Consti
tution in the English language and write his owi
name.
Rhode Island gives the ballot to every male cit
izen of full age, one year in the State, six month
in the town, and who owns real estate worth $134
or renting $7 per year; and to every native flial
citizen, twenty-one years old, two years in the State
six months in the town, duly registered, who ha
paid$l tax or done militia service within the year
Connecticut gives the ballot to all white citizen
of full age, who have resided one ycarin the Stat*
and six months in the town. Negroes who wen
free men (if any such survive) at the adoption o
the State Constitution, in 1818,- may vote. Th
question of negro suffrage was submitted to th
people, October 2, 1865; whole vote 80,706; ma
jority against 6272?in a State that, in April of th
same year, gave a Radical majority of 11,035.
New York?every male citizen of full age, te
days a citizen, one year in the State, four month
in the county, and thirty days in the District. Bu
no negro can vote unless he has been three years
citizen of the State, and for one year the owner c
a freehold worth $250 over incumbrances, and o
which he has paid a tax.
.New Jersey?1"every white male citizen" of fo
age, resident one year in the State, and five month
in the county, excepting paupers, idiots, insan
persons, and persons convicted of crimes excludin;
Vinm frnm Vioinnr Trifnoacpg
Pennsylvania?every white freeman, resident on
year in the State and teu days in the District.
Ohio?every white mala citizen of full age resi
dent one year in the State. Negro suffrage wa
submitted to the people in 1867, with the followin
result: for, 216,987 ; against, 255,340; mtyoritj
against 38,353.
Wisconsin admits every white citizen of full ag
persons of Indian blood declared citizens by act c
Congress, and civilized persons of Indian descent
but the amendment to State Constitution to strik
out the word "white" was rejected in November
1865, by 8059 majority.
Minooeofn- iLo nanro ao Wlaoouoxa vrZil* -njp^ri
to white citizens, and admits Indians certified b
District Court tobe fit for citizenship. In Novem
ber, 1865, the State rejected negro suffrage by 200
majority, and again in 1867, by 1298 majority.
Oregon?every white citizen of full age, si
months resident in the State, and every alien c
full age, resident one year in the United Stater
but "no negro, Chinaman or mulatto."
Indiana?every white male citizen of the Unite
States, resident one year in the State, but "no n<
gro or mulatto shall have the right of suffrage.1
Michigan?every white male citizen of full ag(
and to every civilized male Indian not belonging t
any tribe.
Missouri?the constitution of 1865 exclude
blacks from voting.
Illinois?every white citizen of full age, resider
one year in the State.
Kansas?every white male citizen adult, resider:
six months in the State. The question of negr
suffrage was presented in 1867, and in a total vot
of 29,904, was rejected by a majority of 8,938.
California?every white male United States citi
zen, (or of Mexico, who elected to become a citi
zen un^er the treaty of Queretaro), of full age
no Chinaman, negro, or mulatto can vote.
Nevada?law similar to that of Oregon.
"The thirty-four counties designated as Wes
Virginia" do not permit negroes to vote. Congres
passed a bill enfranchising negroes in the Distric
of Columbia, December 14, 1866; in Senate 3
yeas, 13 nays! in House 126 yeas, 46 nays; Prej
idont Johnson vetoed bill January 7, 1867 ; sam
day Senate re-passed the bill?yeas 20, nays 1C
and the House by 113 yeas to 38 nays, when th
bill became a law. May 15, 1866, House passei
a bill that "there shall be no denial of the electioi
franchise to citizens of the United States becaus
of race or color, and all persons shall be equal be
fore the law"?to amend the organic acts of th
Territories of Nebraska, Colorado, Dakota, Mod
tana, Washington, Idaho, Arizona, Utah and Net
Mexico. The vote was 79 yeas to 45 nays. Jane
ary 10, 1867, the Senate adopted a substitute tha
there should be no denial of the elective franchis
"on account of race, color or previous condition c
servitude," in any of the Territories of the Unite
States, now or'hereafter to be organized. The bi
was passed by 24 yeas to 8 nays, and in the House
same day, yeas 104 and nays 38. This bill becam
a law by failure of the President to sign the bill
or return it with veto, within ten days after it
presentation.?New York World.
AGRICULTURAL PROSPECTS.
The New York World says "it is evident tha
every year the West of Europe becomes more an
more dependent upon us;" that from the lstc
September last, Great Britain has imported fror
this country nine millions of wheat and flour a
full prices, and would have imported twenty mil
lions more at full prices, if we had had it to spare
As for corn, it says :
* "We are absolutely unable to find ship room t<
transport to her our surplus, for which she is ma
king urgent call and paying most liberal prices
The export of provisions has been on a scale o
unsurpassed magnitude. In the past three month
we have exported many thousand tierces and bar
rels of beef and pork, and many million pounds o
bacon and lard ; in fact, quantities almost unpre
1 1 ?' ??.J il>AnA Vi n tt/-? /vnna (amvaimI o
ceaemeu, ULIU lUCOC ^iuuuvu uaitfjvuoiviniuua
good prices. During the past year, domestic to
bacco has increased twenty per cent in price, am
during the same period the exports have been 01
a scale far in advance of any former year, and an
only impeded at the present time by deficiency o
supplies."
"As respects Cotton, the superiority of thi
Southern States for the growth of this staple needi
no more effective demonstration than that Man
Chester, after having for seven years put forth he
utmost efforts to develop Cotton growing in othe:
parts of the world, finds her supplies' so reduce<
that she bids for our cotton twice as much as thi
average price before the war."
All that the country requires, says tie World, i
"The restoration of good feeling between th<
several sections, and among all classessof our wide
spread country; the restoration of Statesmen U
. me control ui oar puuuo mums, iuo iciuuiu ui
oppressive and invidious taxation; a sound cur)
rency, and the establishment again of that sense of
s justice and security to which, unhappily, we have
i been-for a considerable period strangers."
\ < A POLICE STORY.
A Paris correspondent writes: '-The.recent
death of Nuzillard, the senior cashier at the Comptoir
d'Escompte, through whose hands more gold
> has passed than would boy up an empire, reminds
I me of the following story. Nuzillard had always
i enjoyed the reputation of being the most qlever and
t at the same time most prudent cashier. However,
in 1849 he managed to get robbed of a sum of
5 ?4000 in ?40 notes. The director of the Comp
i toir, although he had always had toe greatest con
fidence in the often-tried probity of his clerk, still
thinking it strange that he could have had so large
i a packet of notes taken from him without his knowl
edge, went to the Prefect of PoneeTM. "Csrfier, imd
told him all about it The latter pronounced an o
piniop favorable to the honesty of poor Nusillard.
i "Remember," said the director, "that a hundred
bank notes make quite a thick packet, and I can*
- not see how, with this paoket on his breast ??"
- "Nothing for a clever thief," interrupted M. Care
lier. "Here is a newspaper; fold it, and button it
- in your breast-pocket Now, I will not promise
a you it will still be there when you leave the Prefecture!"
'The director laughed, and declared it was ims
possible, while he carefully placed the newspaper
, at the side of his pocket book. The two gentlemen
e remained some time in conversation, during which
, the Prefect of Police was receiving ppople and
s writing orders. When the director rose to go, M.
. Carlier, after shaking hands with him, said: "By
b the by, I suppose you have the newspaper all right!
e But, lo and behold! to the intense stupefaction of
j the director, both pocket-book and paper had disf
appeared, whereupon the prefect rang the bell, and
e the property was brought back by the amateur
e thief who had done the deed on a pencil command
r from his master, and the astonished owner of the
e stolen pocket-book then and there declared his
complete belief in his cashier's innocence."
? GRANT AS AN EQUESTRIAN.
t The father of General Grant, who is attempting
o the life of his son in the New York Ledger, rives
,f the following anecdote illustrative of the equestrian
D powers of the General when a hoy:
"Once, when he was a boy, a show came along,
|] in which there was a mischievous pony, trained to
B go roqnd the ring like lightning, add he was exe
pected to throw any boy that attempted to ride
g him. "Will any boy come forward and ride this
pony?" shouted the ring master. Ulysses stepe
ped forward and mounted the pony. The performance
began. Bound and round and round the
[. ring went the pony, faster and faster, making the
s greatest effort to dismount thej-ider. But Ulysses
g sat as steady as if he had grown to the. pony's
r> back. Presently out came a large monkey and
sprang up behind Ulysses. The people set up a
great shout of laughter, and on the pony ran, but
,f it all produced no effect on the rider. Then the
. ring-master made the monkey jump up on to Ulyse
sea' shoulders, standing with his feet on his shoulders,
standing with his hands holding on to his
hair. At this there was another and a still louder
A hatft/in mnrnd
y There was not a tremor of his nerves. A few more
rounds, and the ring-master gave it up?he had
0 come across a boy that the pony and the monkey
both conld not dismount."
x The question suggests itself whether this is to be
,f regarded as a typical foreshadowing of the politij5
cal career of Ulysses ? Is the intractable pony that
threw over his head every boy that tries to mount
d him the same that is now endeavoring to dialogs
k. Andrew Johnson? Is Giant to be the rider that
" will master that mischievous animal? And if so,
when Grant is riding the pony, who is the "big
o monkey" that is to ride Grant
Baltimore Sun.
8 A LOVE ROMANCE.
^ A corrrespondent at, Detroit furnishes the
Cleaveland Herald with a scrap of History in the
lt life of Miss Matilda Kirby, who died at Cleave0
land in August last The correspondent says:
e "Miss Kirby, was living in New York in 1860,
where she formed the acquaintance of a man named
[. C. H. Niles, living in Erie county in this'State.
[. The girl's parents were wealthy, but she resolved
. to leave them and go with Niles. They left the
State separately, he a few hours in advance. Niles
went to Toledo, then returned to Fremont, where
the girl met him, and both went to Toledo. Niles
8 secured work in a manufacturing establishment at
,t Toledo, and the girl peddled oranges and cigars.
2 She was so fearful of pursuit by her father that, at
h Fremont, she assumed male attire, and this she
e wore constantly for two years. As the oouple were
i walking in Toledo one evening, a policeman overheard
their conversation, discovered the sex of the
rj disguised girl, and she was arrested. Securing her
Q release by donning her proper apparel, the two went
e to Nashville, the girl again taking men'e clothing
for her wear. Niles got a position as engineer on ,
e the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad and Miss
Kirby was his fire-man.
N After some time spent in this way they returned *
[. North?went to the Medoc gold mines, and thence
>t to Cleaveland. Here the girl died (done among
e strangers, Niles having gone to Chicago at the
(f time of her fatal sickness. During all the time of
d their travel and working together, they were law|]
fully married."
> THE HOUSE OF JOHN FRASER & CO.
6 A notice in another column of to-day's Newt an-'
nounces the reorganization of this old firm, which
8 has so long held a foremost place among the great
cotton houses of Charleston. The style of the
partnership is to remain unchanged, and the firm
,t of John Fraser & Co., under the experienced lead
d of Mr. Theodore D. Wagner, will lose nothing of
if its ancient prestige and character. Mr. William
o L. Trenholm, the retiring partner, is to be associa,t
ted with his father, the Hon. George A. Trenholm,
|- whose commercial fame extends over both contii.
nents, in the establishment of a new firm, under
????? if fluroa A Trenhnlm Son.
ILIC llt?Ults V* V*vw?gv ?? -Mr ?
0 Id these changes oar city will be the gainer.
. Two powerful houses will be actively engaged in
, trade where before there was but one; each posf
sessing vast energies and resources; each thoroughs
ly indentified in sympathy and interest with our
1 people; and each an important and powerful agent
f in the work of building up that oommercial pros.
perity which we all hope is in store for Charleston
t in the future.?Charleston News.
J A Compliment Well Deserved.?The London
Quarterly Review, replying to an essay by
1 Goldwin Smith, who cites Lincoln, Grant, Shersf
man and Stanton (!) as examples of
great men, says: v . v
"We admit that Mr. Stalnton and hia ooDeagues
have done great things on a great scale, but they
9 lack the stamp of individual greatness. If that is
to be found anywhere in America, its under the
r modest roof of General Lee, the cham pion of a
J lost cause, whom prosperity never intoxicated nor
adversity depressed, and who exceeded his oppo3
nent as much in real nobility and greatness of character
as he did in military skill and daring."
s * ? .,
3 Mournful.?"Nat, what are you leaning over
. that empty cask for? "I am mourning over de>|
parted spirit!,"