Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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, uauarrou irn s=sst _ _ _ ^ ^ ^ *' J " ^ ^ ^ 3 v * ^ * lewis m. grist, proprietor. | ^ |iiifptnbfiit J::u:;i!]t ^ttopajtr: Jfor % $mtote of % pittol, Steal, |>griotU # Commtrdsl fatmsts of % Sirat|. teim^$8.?0 a year, in advance. TOL. 16. TOEKVILLE, 8. P., THTTifePA*g, SEPTEMBER 88, iSTO. ; : l*P-3? ?&e $lurg filler. A BURGLAK WHO HAD A CONSCIENCE. BY FAJJNY CKOLY. Elijah Croly, my husband, was owner and captain of a coasting vessel, doing a good trade; and we occupied an old-fashioned and somewhat dreary house at Stepney. Elijah liked the place more than I did, and it was on his account that we stayed there so long, I thought it could make very little difference to him where we lived, for he was at home only two or three weeks out of every ten. I was often alone two months at a time ; and loaefo enough it was sometimes. 'HJet some one whom you like to stay with you, my d?ar," the captain said, when I told him ontt day ho* unpleasant I felt to be alone so much. "Get any one you please, and before long I .hope. I shall be able to stay at home VitksWimyself" . % I took his advice, and after some inquiry I round a woman who I thought would suit me. Her name was Emily Sands, and she was a vWaanl wa man nf fthnut fortv. She HH nm .py-yi l1Tll ^ told me that she had been left a widow, with #no means, and had since earned her living by needle-work; and although I had intended that the woman who came every morning to do my housework should still come, I found Emily so handy and so willing that I soon discontinued the services of the other. She was so amiable and so vivacious, that I was satisfied that I had done the best that I could do in the matter. "I hope so," he said, doubtfully. "And don't you think so V* I asked. "Well, no," he replied. "Now, I'd like to know why, Elijah. Do you see anything wrong about her?" "I can't say that I do; I presume it is only a notion; but I have in some way conceived a kind of distrust of her face. I can't explain it, and you had better not be prejudiced by it" "You may be very sure I shall not," I rejoined, "if it has no more foundation than that." And this was all that was said between us on the subject I was too well acquainted with the captcun's sudden whims to attach much importance to this one. The captain remained at home this time barely two weeks. On the morning that he left to take his vessel for another trip, just after he had taken up his hat to go, he called me into the chamber and shut the door. "Here is something, Fanny ," he said, "that I want you to keep safely for me till I come back." And he took a paper package from his breast-pocket as he spoke. "There are ten fifty pound notes in it?five hundred pounds in all. I will lock it up here in this bureaudrawer and give you the key." And he did so. "No one would think of coming here for money." "Pftynn think yon had tegy Ieava.it Jttara^ Elijah f I asked. "Why not put it in the bank ?" "I meant to; but I shall not have time. ? ' -M i?i _:_n T>.,4 The money was oniy paiu me msi uiguu jjui. no matter, the money will be safe where it is, and there will be no danger about it; or, if you don't think so, you may deposit it yourselfl" My husband took little thought of possibil* ities, and I presume that he never thought of the money from the time he left the house until he returned. As for myself, I was not so easily satisfied. I had heard enough of house plunderage and outrages of the kind to make me afraid to keep this large amount with me. My uneasiness increased as the day wore on; and about three o'clock the same afternoon, I took the money and went to the bank, determined to deposit it The bank was closed; all the banks were cloeed, for it was Saturday. I took the package home again, replaced it in the bureau-drawer, locked it placed the key in my pocket nod resolved that I would not worry any more about it Emily called me to tea in a little while, and though not hungry, I went into the dining-room and sat with her while she drank her tea, and laughed and chatted in her vivacious way. The evening was rather long, and Emily and I sat together in the dining-room after the table was oleared, she reading aloud and 1 listening, as was our custom. When the clock struck ten she laid down her book ; and I took my lamp, and bidding her good night, went up to my room. My chamber occupied the whole front of the second story, and Emily had a back room upon the same floor. A bell-wire ran from my room to hers, so that I could summon her at pleasure. I placed the lamp upon the bureau, shaded it, and returned and locked the door. Then I drew my easy chair to the middle of the i room, put on my slippers, and sat down for a few minutes before retiring. And immediately I became vexed at myself to find that I WSrfookingMfrihe drawer that held the money, and thatWwas feeling in my pocket to see that the key was safe. I felt no alarm; I had almost cured myself of my uneasiness; but it seemed as if that money, and the danger oi its custody, would obtrude upon me. In the impatience of the moment I turned my chair half-round, and locked toward the opposite wall. The shade that I placed over the lamp confined its rays within a small circle, beyond which the bed, the furniture, the carpet and the wall paper were obscure. In the corner to the right of the door, was an antique, highbacked chair, a favorite piece of furniture. As I turned my own chair from the bureau, xnv pves rested on this obiect: and I saw bv the same glance that a human figure was sitting in it I could not at first make out whether it was a man or a woman; I only became conscious as I sat in bewildering, dumb terror, that 1 was confronted by a stranger there in thai semi-darkness?by some one who had hidder in the room for some object; and what thai object was I well knew. No person who has never been placed in such a terrifying situa tion as that, can describe the sickening feeling which for a moment takes possession of th< heart > and I only say for myself that I sa motionless for a time?I knew not how longthinking of my helpless situation. There ] was, locked up in a room alone with a ruffian waiting, trembling, and expecting to hear hin speak, or to become the object of some vio ~ lence. For although, as I have said, I couh not distinguish whether it was man or womac I did not doubt that it was the former, am one the most desperate of his kind. Am presently, as my eyes fell to the floor, I saw great pair of boots thrust out upon the carpet within the radius of the light. I do not know how long we sat there in the semi-darkness of the room, facing each other, but motionless and silent; it might have been three minutes or thirty. The thought of alarming Emily suddenly occurred to me, and i I reached out for the bell-cord. It should have been within easy reach of the spot where i I sat; but my hand failed to find it A low chuckle came from the occupant of the old chair. t v "That was a clever thought of yours, mis- 1 sua," came forth in a deep, rough voices and i in a tone of easy insolence. "Clever thought, ] marai; but bless your simple soul, do you i think I was a going to leave that 'ere cord < there for you to make a noise with ? Not by 1 notneans. It's well to be careful when you're i in this kind of business, marm; and so when i you left me alone here before dark?I then being under the bed, you see?I crawled out and took a survey of the place," My strength was returning; 1 became reassured as I saw that the man intended no violence to myself. "What do you want?" I asked. He chuckled again, and replied, "Now, that's good; you are a business woman, marm; you come right to the point, without any nonsense. I'm going to tell you what I want" He roee from the chair as he spoke, and erossed the room to the bureau, passing so close to me that his boots brushed the skirts of my dress. I shuddered, and drew my chair back?I could not help betraying my fear. "Be quiet, marm," he said. "I don't mean to hurt you, if I can help it. Keep still and I won't Let's have a look at each other." He removed the shade, and looked at me for full half a minute, as I sat in the glare of the lamp. He was a large, brawny fellow, full six feet high, and dressed in an old suit ef fustian cloth. His face was entirely concealed by a crape mask; not a feature of it could I see, from his neck to the crown of his head. He leaned one arm upon the bureau, and regarded me attentively. "You don't know me," he remarked, in an ordinary tone. "No, of course not; it's best for you that you shouldn't I thought at first ? Aimilioi- in VAI1 r mere was suuicujiug nuuu?? u. j ~, but fancy I was mistaken. Well, to business, ] marm." And he assumed a sharp tone, and i looked carefully at the bureau. "I've got a 1 pistol here, missus"?and he slapped his pock- et; "but you're too sensible a woman, I take it, to make me use it on you. I want that money. There's five hundred pounds of it in this drawer; you have the key?give it to me!" I handed it to him without a word. "I'll leave you now a minute, missus," he said, rapidly inserting the key, turning it, and j opening the drawer, "with many thanks for ^ your good behavior. Is this it ?" He took out the package and held it up. i "That is the money," I said. 1 1 him'mutter '^TtlmisUngTis fbrefingJrlnto f the.end of the envelope, he ripped it open and pulled the end of the notes out into sight ^ "Yes, here it is. Now?" ^ He had thrust the package into his pocket, ( and was about to close the drawer, when his j attention was caught by something within it. He started, and thrust his hand into the draw- ^ er, and taking out an object that I was well | acquainted with, he bent over and scrutinized j it, holding it closer to the lamp. How I did j wish that I could see the expression of his j face at that moment! He held in his hand j an ivorv miniature of my husband's face, a i faithful picture, made by au artist years before, at my request. * j "Whose face is this ?" the robber demand- , ed, in a voice that trembled with eagerness. { "My husband's," I replied. "Your husband's ? Yes, yes?but his , name ?" "Elijah Croly." "Captain Croly ?" he demanded in the same tone. " , "Yes." "The same who commauded the barque Calveri, that used to run out of Liverpool ?" I nodded my head. I knew that this vessel was the last one that my husband had sailed on the oceafftefore he bought his own coaster; in fact, it was the same in which I came to England. "And this is Captain Croley's money??this is his house ??you are his wife ?" he asked, rapidly, giving me no time to answer his questions. "Yes, yes?I see it all. Great God! to think what I was just about to do !" He dropped into the nearest chair, apparently faint with emotion; but while I sat in deep surprise at the unexpected turn that this affair had taken, he said, "You have no reason to fear now; I will not rob you ; I will not harm you. Only don't make a noise. Please open the door, and you will find Jane?your woman, I mean?waiting in the passage." I obeyed ; I did not know what else to do. - I unlocked and opened the door; and there, 1 to my astonishment, stood Emily Sands, arrayed in bonnet and shawl, with a bundle in - her hand?waiting, I have no doubt, for a : signal from within. She started upon seeing ! me; but the man immediately called to her ' bv the name of Jane, telling her to come in. V ? - She passed by me as she did so; and I whis* pered, "Oh! how could you betray me?" I She manifested no shame or sorrow, though 1 I know she must have heard the whispered ' words; her face was hard and unwomanly, * and its expression was sullen. And I could not doubt that she had played the spy upon - my husband and myself, and had betrayed us ' to this man. "I've a very few words to say to you, ma'am," said the^nan; and all the boldness J and insolence had gone out of his voice, leav- i i' ing it gentle and sorrowful. "Just a few! 1 words to ask you to forgive us for what we j ; | meant to do, and to tell you what has hap-1 i! pened to change my mind so suddenly, and t j why we can't rob you, as we meant to do." i i He took the package from his pocket with * j the words, apd tossed it into my lap. j; "That money belongs to the man that I love )! and honor more than any other on earth, t, I'm a hard customer, ma'am; we live by dark j - j ways and doings, Jane and I; and I wouldn't j [ j have believed, when she let me in here to-day : , and hid me, that I could leave the house with- j i out the money ; but if I had known whom it j ?- belonged to, I'd sooner have held out my right j 1 hand to be cut off than come here as I have, j i, and for what I came. I used to be a sailor, d | and I was with Captain Croly in the Calvert, j d j He was the very kindest and best master that a ; ever handled a speaking trumpet, and there wasn't a man aboard the barque but loved him. One night off Hatteras all hands were sent aloft to reef, in a heavy gale; and when they came down again 1 was missing. 'Where is he ?' the captain asked; but none of them knew. They hadn't noticed me since we all Bprang into the shrouds together. 'Overboard, I'm afraid!' said the mate; and the men all seemed fearful that I was lost. The captain hailed me through his speaking-trumpet; and there came back a feint, despairing cry, only just heard above the piping of the storm, j Captain Croley never ordered any one else up; he cast off his coat, threw down his trumpet, and went aloft before any one could get ahead of him. He found me hanging with me elbow over the foreyard, and just ready to fall from weakness and pain, for my other arm was twisted out of joint at the elbow by a turn of the ropes. He caught me and held ? il?. till nomn Av%m Kfilrtw. and then I LUC L1IC1C bUl UV<|/ VMIUU AAVM* www | ? they carried me down. It was Captain Cro!y who saved me from a grave inthe sea; and [ Would have robbetf him to-night I Forgive is, madam, if you can. We will leave you in jeace. Come, Jane." The two passed out of my chamber, and Tom the house, leaving me like one in a iream. The woman I never saw again, and I lave little hope that she ever reformed. She was one of the crafty, hypocritical kind, whose learts are entirely bad, and who generally ;ome to bad ends. But I am very hopeftil hat the man entered upon ft new life after this xjcurrence. He made no promises, not even in intimation that he meant to do so; but I lave faith to think that the heart that could reasure up a debt of gratitude, and stay the ixecution of crime, as in this case, will turn o virtuous ways. "Well," said Elijah, in his joking way, when he came home next after this eventful light, "you've not been murdered for that noney, I see. Where's Emily ? Has she an away with it f I handed him the package, merely remarkng that the woman had unexpectedly left me| or reasons best known to herself. This was til the conversation that I had with him on he subject; he never knew what I have now )een telling. Perhaps I did wrong; but I was ilways reluctant to tell him about it, and he lied before I could make up my mind. But [ never kept any other secret from Elijah; md I believe I never had an adventure that nade such an impression upon me as that did. iftc European Wx*. THE DEFENCE OF SEDAN. A FRENCH ACCOUNT. The special correspondent of the Tribune it McMahon's headquarters, a French officer, who witnessed the battle of Sedan from the French side, and was shut up in Sedan with the French army, having been released, sends the following account, dated September 3, via Loncifn, g .. - THE EVENTS OF AUG. 31. I pass over all that has happened since I wrote you from Mezires, to come at once to ;he events of August 31 and September 1? ;he latter the saddest day the French arms tiave ever witnessed. Eearly on the morning of the 31st, orders were given to bring into Sedan all the wagonrains and oxen which had been left outside ;he glacis. By this time the streets were slocked up with troops of every kind which iiad entered the town during the night. I tried to ride down to the Porte de Paris, where the train was stationed to carry the orders. [ was obliged to get off my horse and make my way as best I could between the .horses and caissons which choked up every street and square of the town. As* I readied the Porte de Paris, I met the wagon train entering as fast as possible, followed closely by the rushing oxen and intermingled with the weeping and terror-stricken peasantry of the neighborhood, flying into the town for protection. They little knew that it was about the worst place they could have chosen. The gates on that side were immediately afterward closed, while the troops slowly filed out through the opposite gate toward Douay, where all McMahon's troops were posted, expecting to be again attacked by the Prussians, who had closely followed up the French army. POSITIONS OF THE CONTENDING FORCES. About ten o'clock that morning cannonading was heard six or seven miles away, toward the village of Bazeille. I went up on the rampart overlooking the country in that direction. Thence I could see the Prussian position, and with my field-glass could watch the firing; but I could not see the Frenoh lines, which were hid from me by tr^es about a mile from the town. I therefore, at noon, walked out of the town at the Porte de Balan, and ascended on my left the rising ground which is close by the town. Not moi;e than half a mile from the gate I passed through regiments of reserve infantry?Thmr nrma wore niled and the fires smoking, -the soup I -- - - . not having long been eaten. I continued ascending, and everywhere passed reserve corps J of infantry and artillery. 1 got higher and | higher, from hillock to hillock, till I reached j a battery of reserve, the guns of which were I unlimbered and placed facing the rear of the ' French left. This battery was so pointed as 1 to fire over the crest of the rising ground on which I stood. ^Abqqt a quarter of a mile distant, in front of a little church-yard, stood also several officers of the different corps, which were stationed on my right and left, all being of the reserve. From the point I had now reached, a charming prospect was within view. The French line of battle extended right in front, spreading on the slope of the ground which forms one side of this basin of the Meuse. In front of the centre of the French lines, and- lower down in the vale, was the village of Bazeille, which was then beginning to burn, the Prussian shells having set fire to it. Parallel almost to the front of the French positions ran the Meuse, crossed by a bridge a little to the left of Bazeille. The French right was upon a knot of i ied ground, held by tirailleurs, the wooded 6round extending nearly to the grounds of Sedan. The left was lost to my sight behind the inequalities of the ground toward the road to Pouillon. As far as I could see, on the right and left, and in frqnt of me, were massed regiments of all arms; but toward the left, on the second line, was a very large force of heavy cavalry?dragoons and cuirassiers. ! . The sun was shining brightly, and every| thing was plainly visible. The glittering of weapons, the bright and showy colors of the] I French uniforms, the white smoke curling un-, 1 der the blue sky or lingering like vapor be- < neath the trees, the lurid dames rising frojQ 4 the burning village of Bazeille, all seen from t a commanding position, forms a spectacle c such as one has but rarely the opportunity to witness. The principal Prussian batteries * were directly opposite the French centre on a 3 plateau or table-land which terminated abr ' ruptly, and made it a very strong position-. ' For some time cannonading Continued on { both sides. At two o'clock a force of 1 PRUSSIAN INFANTRY ADVANCED * across the bridge in the village of Douxy, and I immediately there began a very sharp fusil- t * - * i ll & mjn'lll lade, lasting, nowever, not. more uiau ku utes. I think the French must have lost 0 ground in that encounter, although I could ? not see it because jof some trees that inter* . vened; but a battery of' six mitrailleuses ad- * vanced and opened fire through' thfr- ^reet^ Six v^leys came all at 09C^jQiBJPrnflHBH| fell hurriedly back leaving whole ranks befi^^WP which had gone down like those leaden solT 9 diere the children play with. * About 4:80 the firing had ceased every- v where. The village which had been blazing * all day, yas still smoking. The French re- a mained in the same position. Though the ^ day had apparently been without result, its M description is a necessary prelude to the u bitter story of the ihdirow.' At 6:30 I re- ^ turned to the town.1 ! . ? THE EMPEROR RESIGNS HIS COMMAND OF & THE ARMY. P The Emperor, who had arrived during the tl night, had issued a proclamation, which was & posted on the walls, saying that he had confided the command of the armies to the generals wholn public opinion had Beemed to se- 1< led as most capable of leading them, and that e he himself intended to fight as an officer, for- b getting for a while his position as a sovereign, p * " * 1 u- *** 4 / fiBrtll AV3 mil L' A BFLEttlUI* Am'ULLfiKI rivavnv* v/r ? PBU88IAN8. 1 The next morning, Thursday, September 1, o I returned, as soon as the gates of the town g were opened, to my post of observation on the ^ elevated ground where the battery was still e placed. The French positions did not seem fc to me much altered, but the right was now on h the other side of Sedan. At 7 o'clock the t cannonade began in earnest; some slight firing having taken place earlier. The Prus- t si an batteries facing us appeared to me much u more numerous; indeed, it teemed to me a there were batteries everywhere. They roar- o ed from every point of the Prussian line a which then stretched nearly parallel in front v of the French. I could follow the falling of p their shells, which exploded as they touched u the ground, and fell with wonderful precision. 1 I noticed also how quickly they changed and corrected their fire. As soon as a French t corps took up a position it was instantly as* s sailed by shells. The first would, perhaps, 1 fall a few feet short or beyond, but the second t of third was sure to find its way to the troops r and do its awful work among them. Tbeil Fftencg shells, tie contrary, expioaeag3?" I erally oefore they reached the ground, and t the smoke of the explosion formed innumer- 1 able little clouds at different heights, some so p high that the shell could do no harm, I should c think, to the enemy, 1 I noticed some inexplicable movements, c A few squadrons of Prussian cavalry acted as 1 if they would charge a French force, which t was toward the left. Immediately r TWO REGIMENTS OF FRENCH CAVALRY ] CHARGED i in turn upon the Prussian squadrons, which fell back and fled. But at the same moment a Prussian corps of infantry opened a mur- e rformin firfi unnn those two eatrer French cav- s airy regiments, and they came back sadly ( shattered from their rash pursuit. About 9 t o'clock I could not help fancying that the J Prussians were extending fhrther to the left; for, on asking whether certain new batteries were French, I was told they were Prussian. The Prussian line was evidently curling around. us. I have learned since that the Crown Prince had crossed the Meuse during the night about , five leagues from Sedan, and that this had not keen known to McMahon. A large force of Bavarians must also have arrived after the ' commencement of the battle, for it was the Bavarian troops who began pounding us from the left. At 101 o'clock THE ADVANCE OF THE PRUSSIANS was perceptible on both wings at the same time. Some French infantry which was close to the town on the east side gave way, as it seemed to me, rather quickly. Soon afterward shells were coming from behind my left, and it became evident that the French position had been turned, and that a fresh German corps had taken a position in our rear. The reserves were now necessarily directed against these points. The battery near which I stood was already iu action, and I thought >? n11it-o fimn Kpnf ft rfltrflftf. ThenlftCfi WftS becoming as dangerous as any in the field, j i Among the guns close to me the Pmay n 1 \ shells began falling with their usual beautmil 1 precision. So I got on the other side of the I slope and made my way toward the town. J THE PRU88IAN CIRCLE CONTRACTING. t As the road to Bouillon, which crossed the f field of battle, was wholly closed to me now, i I also perceived that I should be shut up in 1 that circle which the Prussians had been drawing about the army and the town, and i ; which was ultimately completed. I made my 1 way as fast as I could by the safest paths. 1 When I reached the suburb before the Porte 1 de Balan, I found it encumbered with sol- < : diers of all corps, hastening, as I was, into i the town. It was a defeat, evidently, yet it i was not eleven o'clock, and the battle was j I ; destined to oontiuue at various points for I < | some time longer, though continuing without < ! any real hope of victory. i THE FRENCH ROUTED. 1 To one entering the town as { did, there ] J was no longer any battle to describe. It was j first a retreat, and too soon a rout I thought ! myself lucky to get away from the field as I, did; for an hour afterward the rout of those ' forces that had been near by me was complete. < Already soldiers were crushing against each i other in the struggle to get inside the town. Dismounted cavalry were trying to make j j their way, some even by the ramparts, leap- j I iner down from the counterscarp ; others fore- | ing their way in by the postern gates. From a nook of the ramparts, where | rested a raoj ment, I saw alsp cyprassiers jumping, horses | and all, into the moat, the horses breaking their legs and ribs. Men were scrambling j over each other. There were officers of all | ranks?colonels and even generals, in uni prms which it Was impossible to' mistake iiSB^a&S is this shameful melee. Behind al j|tte gnm with their heavy carriages anc Awerfbl home, forcing their way into thi maimiig end crashing the fugitive! TERRIBLE SCENES IN SEDAN* To add to the confusion and horror, th< batteries had, by this time, advanoec ^in rapge, and the Prussian shells begar ailing among the straggling masses of men )n the ramparts werethe Rational Guards burning the gun* of the town, and replying riih more or less effect to the nearest Pros iap. batteries. It was a scene horrible enoagl P^jtave suited the foccy of Gustave Don iuWdf. I could form bat one idea of ooi 4h*ppy army: that it was. at the bottom oi sfeethiiK cauldron. /hurried backus Mfe I.conld to say hotel, 3|owiug thenarrowstreets where the shellf jjjbleast likely to reach the ground. Al ^HESS^^^fVCDuple^, I flame upon the ^W^nHoiiee and men quifedead or fttiE niveripg, mown to pieces by bursting sheila teaching my hotel, I found the street in ?hich it stood,, choked like the rest, with ragons, guns, hones and men. Most luckily t this moment the Prussian fire did not enlade this street, for a train of caissons filled i&r powder blocked the whole way, itself nable to moye either forward or backward, .'hpre was every chance that these caissons ronld explode, the town being then on fire in m places; and I began to think Sedan a lace more uncomfortable than even the batle-field over which a victorious enemy was (rifoly advancing. . THE EMPEBOB UN DEB FIBE. From friends whom I found at the hotel, I jarned" that the Emperor, who had started arly in the morning for the field of battle, jttPreturned about the same time I did, and assed through the streets with his staff. One f my ftiends was near him on the Place 'nvenne when a shell foil under the Emperr*s hone,'and bursting, killed the horse of a enerni who was behind him. fie himself rt8 untouched, ana turned around and sroud; though ray friend thought that he saw sere in his eyes which he wiped away with is glove. Indeed, he had cause enough foi sere on that fatal 1st of September. Meantime, shells began to fall in the direction of our street and hotel. We all stood wteFlhe vaulted stone entrance, as the safest belter we could find. I trembled on account f the caissons still standing hi the street, nd filling all the spaces from end to end. II ras at this ttm&'-when.we waited, watching ainfully for the shell whichwoiridhave sent is all together into another world, that General )e Wimpffen came past, making A VAIN EFFORT orally and inspirit his flying troops. He houted, "Five la France!" "En avant/" hit there was no response. He cried out hat $azaine was taking the Prussians in the ytfc News which had been current all the SMK^^ntervals, coming now from the elieved, a\id a few thousand men were ral ied," and followed him out of the town. Peo >le began to have hope, and for one brief mo nent we believed the day might yet be saved tfeed I say that this intelligence was a patri itic falsehood of brave Gen. De Wimpffen' Had with anguish, and inr direct oppositioi o the Emperor's orders, he had resolved t< ally what men he could and make a stand le could not have known that he was bounc n the grasp of at least 300,000 men. A DE8PERATE SORTIE. The bugle and the trumpet ring out on al lUJep. A few thousand men nearicen to tn< ound. My friend Rene De Guiroye, of th< Jhasaieurs D'Afrique, whom I had juBt met ifter losing sight of him for ten or twelvt rears, got on horseback again and joined th< General. The sortie took place thus: The] rent out at the Porte de Balan. Two house >? the suburb are already fxill of Prussians vho fire on the French out of every window rhe church, especially, is strongly garrisoned md its heavy doors are closed. The Genera tent off De Guiroye to bring two pieces o annon. These soon arrived, and with then h^door of the church was blown in, and 204 Prussians were captured and brought bacl vith the French, who, in spite of all efforts vere themselves soon obliged to retire ink he town. It was the last incident of th jattle?the last struggle. While this took place at the Porte de Ba an, the Prussian shelling went on, and thi shells began to fall into the hotel.. SHOCKING SCENES followed, A boy, the son of a tradesman tround the corner of the street, came up cry ing and asking for a surgeon. His father' fo^haff been shot off. A woman in front o ;he house met with the same fate. The doc tor went to the tradesman and found hin lead; and returning, attempted to carry th tvoraan to an ambulance. He had scarce! made a step when she was shot dead in hi aa^^Phogg^of U8 who stand in the gate ws^ancPwimess such scenes have got beyon< the feeling of personal fear. Any one of ut t will venture to say, would give his life k jpare France on this dreadful day. Yet w stand pale and shuddering at the sight of th fate which befalls the poor people of th town. "i care not to dwell upon horrors, which nevertheless, I shall never be able to forgel [ can mention more than one brave office who did not fear to own that he shrank fron the sight of what had become a mere massa ere. Those who were safely out of the wa; as prisoners, whether officers or men, neede< no pity. JThen, after a time, it became clea that there was no sign of Bazaine, the hope of the French again departed. A sullen sor 01* fight still went on. The guns of the towi wTswered the Prussians. An aid-de-camp o tlie Emperor went by on foot, and I hear< liitn ask the officers near by to help him ii putting 90 end to the fire. Such being th Emperor's wish, at length THE WHITE FLAG was hoisted on the citadel. The cannonad ceased suddenly about 4}. Eager as we wer to know the cause, we cannot leave the hous< for the street is impassable, and we have t be content with learning the mere fact of th surrender. As njght clrew on, the crowd little diminished, and by some effort it wa possible to make one's way about the towi The spectacle it offered W98 more borrjb] than wor* Dead were lying everywhere civilians and soldiers mingled in the slaughte: In one suburb I counted more than 50 bodi( of peasants and bourgeois?a few wome among them and one child. The ground m , strewn with splinters of shells. Starting i soldiers were I CUTTING UP DEAD flWBBS i to coot and eat, for provisions had again ? fafled us, as everything has failed, since this campaign began. I was glad to get away from the sight of oar disasters, and lose their 5 remembrance in a few hows of sleep. y NAPOLEON A PEIBONEB. 1 The hezt day we were told 'that the l?mpe* ' ror had gone to the King's headquarters to ' treat for a surrender. At 11 his household ' and carriages left the town and we knew that he was a prisoner and the Eihpire no mofo. 1 About the same hour there was posted ia the | streets a proclamation from Gen. De Wimp' fien, saying that notwithstanding prckfigiee of courage, the army hiving no more ammunition, found itself unable to respdUd 'to thd ' summons of .ite ohiefe and force Ha way to 1 Montmedy. That being surrounded, be had ' made the best oonditions he could?conditions 1 tsue^ne.wc^d inflict "ho humiliation on the 1 army. These conditions prove to be the surrender ' of the whole army, not less than 100,000 men, ' ; as prisoners of srar, with all their arils, baggage, horses, standards and guns. The officers who sign an engagment not to serve against , Prussia during the war, may return to their homes, the remainder to be sent to German towns in Germany. Many officers refuse to sign, preferring to share the eaptivityof their men. BID FAITH OF THE FRENCH. I On Saturday the whole force laid down . their arms. Not .a few soldiers, in their rage, broke rather than give up their arms, and the streets were littered with fragments of all kinds of weapons broken: swords, rifles, pistols, lancers' helmets, cuirasses, even mitrailleuses covered the ground; and in one place where the Meuse runs through the town, the heaps of such fragments choked the stream, and rose above the snr&Ce. The mini nf !?? o+tttAfa vu Mu>k with cmnnnwder. The horses had been tied to the houses and gun-carriages, but nobody remembered to feed or water them, and in the frenzy of hunger and thirst they broke loose and ran wild through the town. Whoever liked might have a horse?even officers' hones which were private property?for the trouble of catching them. '1 EMPTYING THE MONEY CHEST. When the Prussians came into the town they were very sore and angry at the sight of . all this destruction and waste. What must , have pleased them still less, was the state in ! which they found the military chest As I soon as the surrender was resolved on, the French officers were told to make out the best accounts they'~Cm?ldy4i^enfthem and receive s payment Naturally, t?&~ statements thus 1 brought in soon proved sufficient to empty the . treasury. . I know of officers who demanded j and received pay for horses that were not kill, ed, and baggage which had dot been lost , [Demoralization showed itself in every way. pltevsir mi- staiiaaius Wcrej uurueu orTfefiEn; . an act of bad faith not to be palliated even . by the grief and rage of a beaten army. GENERAL DE FAILLY. Their rage is greater against no one than . Gen. De Failly. He had a room in the hotel P where I was staying. On Friday, a great i multitude of soldiers gathered before the ) house, the doors of which were closed, de. manding Gen. De Failly, with such shouts 1 and menaces that the landlord thought it prudent to hurry him out of a back window. The soldiers, could they have reached him, 1 would have torn him to pieces. Since then, 1 3 have heard the report that he was shot by one 3 of his own men; but no such event had hap, pened on Saturday, and could not well have i happened later.3 FRENCH ANNOYANCE8 AND PRUSSIAN COURj TEST* s It was a reltef on Saturday, when the Prusi, sians came in and occupied the town, and . restored order. I am sorry to have to ac, knowledge that all through the campaign the 1 French army have acted much more like t f conquering army in a hostile country than i the Prussians. All the annoyance I have ex) perienced personally came from my own conn t trymen; from the peasants who, above all i, saw a spy in every stranger. When I feli 5 ihto the hands of die Prussians I found them e courtesy itself. On leaving Sedan, and thence to the frontier, in passing through the Prossian posts, I was stopped often, though I had e but to say, "I am the correspondent of ac American journal," and I was at once sent kindly forward. On the back of my French i, military pass the Prussian staff had endorsed . a Prussian safe-conduct Often I was not ob 8 liged even to show my papers; my word wai f taken, and once out of Sedan I was speedilj i- through. a When I left Sedan on Sunday morning e things were rapidly getting in order. The Y streets were cleared of dead homes and men, s The indescribable filth of the town was swepl H into the river. The shops were opening again 1 Discipline had taken the place of disorder i, I saw enough of Prussian organization and d energy to change, if the grievous defeat had e not already changed, the opinion I have sc e often expressed that ultimate victory foi e France was sure. WHY THE FRENCH WERE 80 OFTEN SURPRISED i, I have followed Marshal McMahon from * the day when I found him re-organizing hu r army at Chalons to the fatal day at Sedan, a when he surrendered the last organized force " V?onno vWk fVio ATMntinn nf tVift rpmnanl y of that which is shut up in Metz. Certainly, 1 when I was at the camp at Chalons, and r then at Rheims, I had observed that the s number of stragglers was enormous, and 1 t continually met soldiers who did npt know a where their regiments were, I had seen men if and offioers disabled by wounds which French 1 soldiers of other days would have despised: a I had remarked how untidy and careless the e men were allowed to be about their dress and equipments. These things, slight, but signifr cant to a military eye, had caused me, nc e doubt, some misgivings as to the rapidity ol e the success we had a right to expect I saw ;, also how prone Freqch officers wile to avoid o the fatigues of long marches and the discom e fort of bivouacs. I remepaber how often 1 a have traversed the French lines at dead Q! is night and at early dawn, and never heard t i. challenge, never came across a French vidette !e never have fallen in with a party of scouts !; On the other hand, I have seen officers spent r. the time that ought to have been given t< ? their men, in cafes or in poor village inns n Often even officers of the staff seemed to neg is lect their duties for paltry amusements, show ignorant sometimes even of th name of the Department in which they were ao thai ,lT 1 iwwii % French General oblig ed to aekhisway from peasantest the kneel ing of two itihdis. I struggled long ag&inrfi al this kind of evidence but the end is only to clear. PainfUljfcje i? mJfattt f arahminri ti declare my belief tfept any fijiskher. efwr France may make canonly cause usel essblood shed; and that means of escape from he peril most now be sought otherwise than b; force of am 1 mmag, wn_ - irr i aiw<eit?'<'4 --*' v rw DM ZvfmVUIS AM|UIICIIi THE WGNITT OF FARM LABOR* Mr. Editor: Since the close -of the war, J see that a great many young men have beei thronging to the towns andeitieain search o congenial emjrioyment^^mething eerier anc long been over-crowded; but still tbe migrs tion from the farms continues, and it is fearet that unless it is checked in some way, the mei of the South will become traders instead o producers. ' I would advise the young men to remain a their homes and learn to produce the wealtl that the South needs, instead of drifting U towns and cities where they can barely ek< out a living, while the agricultural interests o: the State go to ruin fbr the want of propei persons to direct them. What the South needs at the present rime and will continue to need fbr some yean tc come, is labor. There is no lack of lawyers doctors and editors, in any of the Southern States. There is hardly a spare seat in an) of the learned professions. The various do partments of trade are more than occupied Men versed in politids are quite numeroui enough to look after the public interests There is no place unfilted ezoept in tbe field of manual labor, and that place, which is oer tainly the most honorable, is rise one whicl the young men appear to be Unwilling to fill It is not to be denied that in the early dayi of the republic, form labor was not regarded in as favorable a light as it is now. The far mer in those days was a drudge. He knei little, and cared little what was going on ii the world outside of his one or two hundred acres. But it is not so now. The former ha become a power in the country. It is not ne oessary to trace the cause of his elevation. I is sufficient to know that the laboring classei stand as high in practical culture as any othei portion of the community, They possess a clear an intellect, ae sound a judgment, an< are capable of as apt an appreciation of pub lie questions and interests, as men brought u] in the active centres of business and politics No farmer now considers himself begeath th merchant or professional man in the qualitae which constitute manly dignity. In brief, al to regard labo engaged. With the spread of intelligence the social prejudice against'manual labor ha died out, and at the present time there is n class more respected, or more worthy of re spect, than that which develops and utilize the wealth of the soil. The present generation of Southern plan ters and farmers must disappear before man; years. When the men who have directed th labor of the South for the past twenty year shall have passed away, others ought to be a i, hand to take their places. The South wil need a great deal more labor in the futur ' than she needed in the past; and unless sh can command capable hands and brains to d 1 it, she roust go to the wall. But if all th young men of the present generation abando - their country homes and crowd into the town and cities, seeking employment as clerks o - in th&professions, there will be none to atten i to the farms and plantations when the me - who now direct the agricultural interest 1 shall have ended their days. It is a populs 1 error that life in the towns and cities is muc 1 easier and more pleasant than life in tb country. The truth is that where one youn * man who abandons the farm for the store c > the office suooeeds, two are almost sure to fail ' ??J aAah an<)a in ^iactini 2U1U UiCU 12M1U1D Vcij viku VIIWW iu vIWIJ/I 1 tion and rain. If the young men will be ac > vised, they will stick to their country home - and let the towns and cities alone. Thei I talents will command more influence, an > have a wider field for profitable developmer ' on the farm than behind any desk or countei > They are sadly needed in the country, and 1 trust they will apply their labor and energii where they are most needed. ? Mr. Editor: I throw out these suggestion ' for what they are worth, and should an young man be influenced by them, my en 1 will have been accomplished. PLUS. j , A New Cotton Picking Machine.?Th I Louisville Courier-Journal, of Friday, at . nounces a machine that will certainly pic , cotton, and thus describes it: 1 The machine is called the Southern Cotto I Picker, and is the invention of Mr. Williai > Apperly, assisted by Mr. John Pearce an Capt John T. Sherly, all of Louisville. Th machine consists of four wheels and running . gear similar to an ordinary wagon, with th i exception that all is of iron. In the centre < i the bed are a series of columns of fuller , teasels, an article used in giving the nap t > cloth. It is simply the dried bead of a plan ; cone-shaped, and covered with a number c , sharp, curved points. These teasels are cor I tained in a cylinder of wire, and the entir > set are raised and lowered by pulleys. Th ! machine is run directly over the cotton rowi ' and the frame containing the columns < i teasels lowered upon the plant. The fram i is raised, and the sharp points of the teas< : strip the plant of all the cotton that is fill s ripe. Leaves, stems and unripe cotton ai 4 * ? - it - J* , I all rejected. A down motion 01 me iram strips the cotton from the frame by a set c ) stationary teasels, and with their points r< f verse and deposit it in a receptacle made fc r it, from which it can be taken at pleasun I The test yesterday was very satisfactory, an the opinion was expressed by those preset] [ that one of the smallest sized machines woul f do the work of thirty expert hands. A ton i pany oalled the Southern Cotton Pickin , Company has been formed, and the manufa . ture of the machines will be carried on a I tensively. It is estimated that the machim ) will cost from $400 to $1000, according \ . size. The rights of various districts in A kansas, Louisiana, Alabama, and othi - States, have already been disposed of, a a though the machine was paieniea <wj.wm i month. Hie machine Is very simple Si bail* f structhpi and is destined to work a great revo f lution in the labor system of the South. 3 A FEW FBIttTOLY WORDS TO THE SOUTH. 3 Apologfrangfor volunteering "tocounael I the people of another State or class of States . reflecting the management of their, ietfinl r concerns/' the New York Worid deolarea that j the South "can be relieved from the incubua of Federal domination oblybr Demoerittio . victoria in the Horth'." It says that "from I860 down to the present time many leading niinds in the South have been afltwtad with : jMdjiM^dnem." the Charleston Convention, whiph :bronght . two Democratic candidates in the fieW? [ Douglas and Breckinridge?as "A ittftfeam i act of poSticai folly, as securing I&eoln'e p 1W. olp^rimi? ftnrf aam Aftt the Northern i who promptly deserted to the Radicals; Dan1 iel S. Difcki^ who took office under Mr. f Lincoln; Caleb- Cashing, who his been the paid counsel of successive Radical administ tratitihS; and Johi, JL Dix, the submissive i tool of Lincoln and Seward, in shotting up ) the offices of Democratic newspapers.", a It thinks there would have been do war had f Douglas been elected, whose "wisdom eoosistf ed in his correct appreciation df thetone and temper of the Northern people.""" The World , proceeds: > "WW was true in 1860 is trebly true pow, * when the North has still greater weight and t preponderance; when the Radicals control ' every department of the Federal government, and a large majority of the State governments. . The South can be relieved Only by Northern > Democratic intervention, and Northern Dem* . ocrats may claim-to understand the public t sentiment of this section better than jfp ja practicable Southern brethren, ffu^ftEey I will permit us to act upon our bettdf katonrledge of thesitoation, they must resign them* i selves to the tender mercies of Radical dorai* I Tiatuyi "We in all candor and r plainness, that they only rivet their chains by i furtheropposition to negro suffrage. It is not 1 by negro votes that they are oppramd, hut 4 s by white Totes. It M vain for them to inscribe ? , AL.A - _ " VII uicir jiuiiuvpi Hwiwy w> w? \ t "white nmn's party," so long astheirJynnte .' s consist of a Congress elected by white votes, r Negro suffrage is the rest^jf of a white move* b ment The negroes did not isk .for suffrage 1 till the white Radicals put it into their heads. - The negroes would vote rightly eoodgh if the 3 white Radicals did not mislead and deceive i them. The inftmous reconstruction laws were e passed by a Congress in which the South were s not represented at all; by a Congress, thereI fore, which was wholly ele^jal by white eon* r stituents. It is not by negroes that the Sooth >, North, and it is ridiculous to expect fortress a from "a white man's party/' when a party of o white men are the authors of all the misy chief. ; i: a What the South needs to be rescued, from is the domination of the white Radical party i* of the North which has controlled Congress y for ten years. The Southern people would e have'no difficulty in managing the negroes if s they were freed from white Radical interior* -t ence exerted through the Fedecal government II In North Carolina, it is Holden's martial law e backed by Grant's bayonets that ketps the e State under Radical control. In Georgia, the o Radicals dare not hazard an election, and the e Legislature is passing an act under color of n Congressional authority, to continue the pros* >s ent Radical officers in authority beyond the r term for which they were chosen. It is not d negro voting, but outside Federal pressure, n that is the unmanageable element in Southern Is politics. The only means of relief is a politx ical revolution in the North, and Southern h Democrats must concede that our opportunie ties for knowing the North are better than g theirs. ,r We ask the Southern Democrats to reeog* > nize the fact that the North is the realTtettle Y ground of political freedom for their section. l" Here, where the victory is to be won, it won * at all, we have no negro voterajqqgh naming i* It is a oonteet between two parties of white d men, and a perpetuation of the old qntifrel >t about the rights of the negrb only strengthens r? the enemy. The negro question is the only I one on which the Radical pajrty agree; if is * their only principle of cohesion. The surest way to present the disintegration of the Be* 19 publican party, is to keep that question alive 7 and continue to force it upon the country as a d political issue. The Democrats can becomea majority only by drawing off some Republican votes; but on the negro issue the Kepub6 lican party can easily hold its own^and jo .m j* long as it retains the control of CongTem there \ * can be no freedom in the South. If that SCO* tion will heed-the timelyadvice given* the D Democratic (^ugressioiml ^dreflS/jBd'dni^ II "dead issues," we daiteasily revolutionize the d lower branch of Congress in this year's elec16 tions, now close at hanct^ We ask the South* ?* ern Democrats, both for their sake and for 6 ours, to put no obstacle in the way of oar f achieving this victory. When the Federal 8 Government is once more in Democratic hands 0 we are quite willing they should manage their *> local politics in their own way, and. will not . ? intrude upon them any unwholesome advice. t e "As Depicted by Themselves."?The e Columbia Guardian says: Tim Hurley, the bright luminary and mas>f ter lobbyist of the carpet-bag party, says: ? "Of course we steal. We came here to get 11 ttt ?x -nr. 51 your money, ue get iu no wguiug w 11 continue to get it, and .you Beformen can't e help yourselves. If you think that truth and 6 honesty will bring success, yon art mightily mistaken. This is an &ge of pttgt?f*,4Uxl * you fellows cling to old fogy notions about ,r honesty and such stuff. The niggers haven't & any sense; you can't beat a new idea into their heads, and they are going to vote as we lt tell them." Is that the party that General ^ Grant supports ? l g ' 9Sf It may not be generally known tkat the > last sale of a slave in the 8outh occWTed4n ?1 t' Virginia. News had juSf reached the Valley Bs of the retreat of Lee's army from Petersburg, to when a gentleman offered a slave to a, firmer r- of Augusta county. After some higgling, bt the bargain wss closed by bartering the negro ,1- off for'a hundred cabbage plants. a .1