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^1 LEWIS M. GRIST, Propr ietor. | |U Jnbrpcnbcnt Jfamiln ftcluspapcr: Jfor % promotion of f|e |]oliticaI, Social, Agricultural anil Commercial Interests of % Sout|. |termS?$3.00 a year, in advance. VOL. SO. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JULY 16, 1874. N"Q- 39. Selected focti|. MY CHOICE. Yes, I know there are stains on my carpet? The traces of small muddy boots', And I see your fair tapestry glowing And spotless, with blossoms and fruits ! And I know that my walls are disfigured With prints of small fingers and hands ; And I see your own household whiteness All fresh in its purity stands! Yes, I know my "Black walnut" is battered, And dented by many small heels; While your own polished stairway, all perfect, Its smooth, shining surface reveals! And I know that my parlor is littered With many odd treasures and toys; While your own is in daintiest order. Unharmed by the presence of boys! And I know that my room is invaded Quite boldly, all hours of the day; L. While you sit in your own unmolested, And dream the soft quiet away ! Yes, I know I have jackets that wear out, And buttons that never will stay; While you can embroider at leisure, And learn pretty arts of "crochet." And I know there are lessons of spelling Which I must be patient to hear; While you may sit down to your novel, Or turn the last niagaziue near! Yes, I know there are four little bedsides Where I must stand watchful each night While vou iroout into your carriage, And iflash in your dresses so bright. Now, I think I'm a neat little woman ; I like my house orderly, too; And I'm fond of all dainty belongings ; Yet I would not change places with you! No! Keep your fair home, with its order, Its freedom from trouble and noise ; And keep your own fanciful leisure ; But give mo my four splendid boys ! Ibe JfotW IfUft. THE POST-MORTEM. a physician's story. - ? It was iu November?the thirteenth?about nve-and-twenty years ago, that I)r. Turner sent for me to meet him in consultation upon a case at Bartondale. On the following day I answered the summons. Bartondale was fourteen miles distant from my residence ; and when I reached the special address designated, I found Dr. Turner already there, and with him was Dr. Prescott, of a neighboring town. Our patient was a man of about sixty, named Ebenezer Varney. He was a farmer by occupation, though of late years he had turned his attention particularly to stock-breeding and money-lending. He had been fortunate tCsM-tr. onrl woo TtrViQf l'n tflA Pfinn. 1U HIS SJJCL'UiailUlJO, uuu II1N IIUUH, >u v..w vv... try, is considered wealthy. Until within three months Mr. Varney had known nothing of sickness. According to his own account, "he had never known a sick day until this trouble came." He was a large-framed man, and Dr. Turner, who had known him for years, assured me a mau more hale and hearty than he had previously been, was not to be found anywhere. "And now," said I, "what is the case as you have had it?" "Here it is," replied Dr. Turner. "I was called to see the patient during the last week iu August. I found him weak and languid ; with no appetite; the pulse low and sluggish, and the tissues seeming to be gradually, but surely, wasting. There was no fever, and he had complained of but little pain. At first I thought it might be a case of dyspepsia ; but I was very soon forced to believe that there was something deeper than that. There was j a suspension of the whole alimentary power, as though the organs had suddenly failed, as an old watch will that has run a long time without lubrication?simply worn out. He had been a hard worker ; exposed to all sorts of weather; careless of his health ; and eating everything that came iu his way. My treatment has been rather varied. I tried the different preparations of iron at first, with snnh alteratives and tonics as I thought he would bear. Of late, however, my course has been almost entirely experimental; and I think I may safely say that I have exhausted the whole pharmacopoeia. But all to no effect. The waste goes on, like poison eating out the vitals, and I have no power to stop it. I am free to confess that I am at a stand still. I have told these honest people, who are so anxious to know what ailed him, that the trouble was paralysis of the alimentary canal. Of course I must give them a direct answer, and that came as near to my knowledge of the case as anything." "And," said I, "a very good statement it is. But if there is paralysis of the canal, what caused it?" I found the patient, as the reader might suppose from Dr. Turner's account, to be very weak, very pale, very despondent, very thin, and exceedingly reduced in every way. It was acaseof atrophy, for which we could fiud no cause. We summoned the cook and the nurse, and demauded to know if Mr. Varney ever ate or drank any thing in the house of which the others did not partake. No; he had never beeu capricious or dainty about his food. Whatever the others ate and drank he ate and drank. And how about his mediciue? The nurse flpolaivd that he onlv took what the doctor ordered. And how had it been with Mr. Varney's progenitors? Had they been healthy ? "No, sir. His father, and his grandfather, and I've heard tell how that his great-grandfather did, too, all died with consumption. I've heard Adam's Aunt Hepsey say that they grew to be middle-aged men afore any thing like sickuess ever showed itself; but when they once was took down they went awful." I turned, and beheld a woman of middle age?a small, keen-eyed, restless woman, who proved to be the wife of the sick man's nephew, Adam Yarney. And by-and-by Adam Varuey himself came in, and he corroborated his wife's testimony. He was a man not far from fifty years of age, rather slim and frail; and it struck me, too, that he might be taken down before a great while. Altogether the case was a very curious one; but we were forced to pronounce it quick consumption ; and we could offer no hopes of recovery. There is no need of telling all that we three doctors said. I will only further add that the last words I spoke on the subject were to Turner. "Doctor," says I, "there is one thing that confounds me; and for an elucidation of that condition you must exert yourself to the utmost. Find out, if you can, what causes that continual, deadly nausea. It is beyond my power to conceive of any cause inherent iu the system." >-v .. .1 . , 1 , t 1 _ Uur report to tne patient, ana to nis menus, was, that Dr. Turner was pursuing the proper course of treatment, and that he understood the case as clearly as it could be understood from the symptoms. That was on the fourteenth of November. During the three or four weeks following I was very busy (for I then had a good country business,) and gave but little thought to the case at Bartondale. About the middle of December three young gentlemen, who were studying medicine at Guy's, came down from T ondon, they having arranged with two students of mine that they would club together and send to town for a subject, and that I should meet with them a certain number of afternoons, and act as their demonstrator. Edgar Stearns and Charles Gordon were ray students ; and Gordon had a place fixed up in an out-of-the-way end of his mother's woodshed that answered capitally for a dissecting-room. It had been origi nally parted off and finished for a shop ; but j of 'ate years it had only been used as a toolhouse. Here the young Dieu had dug a pit under the floor, had arranged a good table, and had furthermore closed the single window, and set a broad sky-light in the roof. It was during the week before Christmas that my students told me they were ready. I asked them whether their subject had come from Loudon. "Never mind," said Gordon. "We've got j one." i "Has it been procured about here ?" I asked, a little uneasily. ; "No," they both said, in a breath. "It came from a place a long distance from here." "Very well," said I, "I will be with you j this afternoon." And that afternoon I went. The dead \ body lay upon the table, covered with a large Kionlrnt onH in thp small (*rat,e was fire enough j * WiMiinvwj M4JV* *" v"v Q ~ ^ u | J to make the place comfortable, without pro\ ilucing heat enough to endanger the tissues j of the subject, some of which they might ! wish to keep two or three weeks, if possible. "We ain't over and above pleased with our I purchase, Doctor," said Gordon, as I moved i toward the table, after having warmed my hands. "We expected a little better subject thau this. However, it's better than nothing." And as he spoke he threw off the blanket, leaving the corpse fully exposed. I shook my head with disappointment. A ' more attenuated body I had never seen. It 1 seemed as though a skeleton, with a single in- j j tegument drawn over it, was all there was be! fore us. "I declare, boys, you'll get but little idea of the development of the tissues from this affair. J You will find the tendonous connections intact, and, maybe, you'll find?" I had placed my hand upon the head of the subject, and had turned the face toward me as I spoke these words. I had been about to remark that they might find muscle enough j for demonstration, when those features at-1 tracted my attention, and arrested my speech. "What's up, Doctor ?" as I came to this sudden stop. "Is it anybody you know ?" Up to the moment of this question I had recognized nothing; but as the last words dropped ffom his lips, the truth flashed upon me. "I saw the man once," I said. "I was I called in consultation upon his case five or six j weeks ago. He lived in Bartondale, and his I name was Ebenezer Varney." I "What!" exclaimed one of the youog gen! tlemen ; "old Varney, the drover? Mercy! | could'nt all his gold keep more flesh than this j on his bones ? Yes ; I know him now. It is ! the old fellow himself; and here's the end of I the wealth he's been heaping up so carefully i and so persistently !" "Doctor?Doctor Williams!" cried Stearns, "what do you find in that face that binds you so ?" "Gentlemen," said I, having made an end of the reverie into which I had fallen, "I was thinking of that consultation that I told you of. There was something very mysterious in this man's case, and I am determined now to investigate it. Mr. Gordon, you will of course wish to overhaul and remove the abdominal viscera first; so I will thank you if you will take the knife, and give me the stomach and bowels as soon as you can." "Eh ! What's up now ?" "Ask me no questions. You shall know all in good time." I may as well state the case plainly at this point as at any other. From the first, I had held strong doubts concerning the character of Ebenezer Varney's disease. It did not look to rue like consumption. That terrible nausea of which the sufferer complained? ! which afflicted him continually?was not an attendant upon auy form of consumption. I suspected poison. And I knew of but one poison that could be administered without the patient's knowledge, and which could produce such atrophy as was present in this case?and that poison was antimony?probably the j protoxide. It is not ray purpose here to enter into a i detailed account of the manipulations neces- j sary to the result I have in view. Suffice it j for me to say that in the end we had a thick { I ring of metalic antimony in the tube of the j apparatus, showing clearly that this poison | had been freely administered; and from aj quantity obtained, it struck me that toward j the last the doses had been increased. Having pledged my students to secrecy, I | told them the story of my visit to Mr. Varney, and then gave them a lecture upon the ; | nature of antimony as a poison. They had j no doubt read of instances of slow poison, j where the fatal poison had been administered in minute doses, gradually destroying life, aud so gradually that the patient seemed to be dy- j ! ing of lingering diseaso; and they might have | i supposed the said slow poison was some won-1 i derful invention, akin to the concoctions of) I those famous alchemists of olden times. But i j simple protoxide of antimony would do the; j work as well as auy thing yet found in the j ! whole range of toxicology. And furthermore, [ ; an expert might have administered the poison i j so that but little, if any, traces could have j I been found ; but in this case the poisoner was ! evidently in a hurry. ! And that is all that the reader cares to ! J know of the mortal body of the poisoned man ; j I only, I will say, that I found the vpsurrection i I man who furnished the corpse, and from my j own pocket I paid him a goodly sum to return the remains to the place whence he took I them. As soon as I could do so, I called upon Dr. j Turner, and asked him about his patient in ! Bartondale. I "Poor fellow !" said Turner ; he hung on j some time after our consultation, but I could ! do nothing for him. It was evidently a case , of galloping consumption." I "Did you hold a post-mortem ?" I "No T WA ntprl tn hilt his fripnrls wouldn't ! J allow it. They couldn't bear the idea of hav' ing his body cut up so." ! "He left a considerable property, didn't he?" i "Yes ; twenty thousand pounds, the admin- , ; istrators say; but it is more than that." ! "Who are his heirs?" i "His nephew is his only heir?Adam Var- \ ney. You saw him when you were there." j "And I saw his wife, too ?" I said, j "Yes," replied Turner. She nursed the j j old man through his entire sickness; only once ! in a while Mrs. Downing came in to relieve her." I : "Who is this Mrs. Downing?" "A widow living close by Varney's residence?Mary Downing is her name ; and she , I is one of the finest women I ever knew. She i expected that Mr. Varney would have left her ' something by his will; but. it seems that he made none?or, at least, no will has been ! found," "Was this widow related to Varney?" "No. But she would have been, though, ' had he lived, for he purposed to take her for J his wife." "Are you sure of this ?" 1 "Certainly. The old man told me so him-! self. You must remember that he was a hale and hearty man before this illness came upon him." "Fcrnd i pihonpyer'f? death was a fortunate j thing for Mr. Adam Varuey and wife." "You may well say so. It gives them ! twenty thousand pounds at least." I said nothing to Turner of the post-mortem which it had been ray privilege to hold ; but after conversing with him awhile upon other ' matters, I took my leave, and called next at the residence of Adam Varney, and was fortunate enough to find that individual at home. He and his wife both remembered me as one 1 of the physicians who had been present at the consultation of their deceased uncle's case, I and they professed to be glad to see me. j Now there was no earthly reason why they i j should have been glad to see me, especially before I had told them what my business was ; and I could see very plainly that they were ' not glad: It was an instinct with them to ; i keep on the right side of a man who had won-1 dered what made their old relative ill. I told ! them I had called to make some enquiries concerning the illness of Ebenezer Varney, j | adding that this was the first opportunity I , found since his death, and I had embraced it., I I had been conducted into the parlor, which j was warmed by a good fire, and we three were I i alone together. I told them I hoped they 1 ! would excuse me for troubling them. 0, it, ; was no trouble. They were very glad I had j j come. It was pleasant to see any one who had tried to be of service to their poor dear j i uncle. And Mrs. Adam Varney wiped her i , eyes with the corner of her apron. I very quickly saw that Adam Varney was , ! a guilty man. He showed it in every look i and every motion. But I saw that Mrs. 1 Adam?otherwise Nancy Varney?was the I demon of the establishment. Her husband j looked toward her with an appealing, wailing I expression, seeming to say unto her, "For 1 * 1 "xt * J J heaven's sake, save rae: iou nave uraggeu me down ; don't Jet them trample upon me !" And she in turn seemed to say, "Don't be a j fool. Keep up your courage. They can't j prove anything." I led them on from step to step, until I had gained from them a thorough accouut of their uncle's illness and death; and during this time the husband paled and trembled a great many times, while the wife talked as calmly and coolly as could he, save when she was straining out a few tears and wiping them away. At length I folded my arms upon my bosom and looked the man steadily in the face. When he met that gaze he trembled like an ; aspen, and I caught the half-angry, half-imploring look and gesture which his wife di-1 rected toward him. "Adam Varney," said I, with slow and j stern solemnity, "I am not an avenging spirit. ! 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord !' For ; myself, I regard the man who bears upon his j soul the memory of a great crime as a sufferer I to be pitied; and while I felt assured that he j would commit no more crime like unto it, I j might not deliver him into the hands of the j law. Let us suppose a case: Suppose a j man?ay, suppose you?had committed a ! murder. Ah ! you are ill !" "Doctor Williams," cried the wife in spite- j ful accents, "what do you mean by coming i here and talking such stuff? My husband is i a poor, weak, nervous man, and such talk as that always untnans him. He never could read about murders in the papers without going into spasms." ''Then, madam," said I, as coolly as possible, "I will direct my remarks to you." "I dou't want to hear them !" she exclaimed. ; "But you must hear them. You had better j hear them, than that I should go out from here and speak them to another." "Really, doctor, you are very funny. I al- j most think you are crazy." "And what do you think ?" I demanded of J Adam. The mau started, as though from a horrid dream, and stared at me wildly. "Who?who?what?are you?" he gasped. "I am one who has come to demand justice!" I replied. And then turning again to the woman, I added, "Nancy Varney, I say unto you?your bauds are red with blood !" She sank back into her chair, and the color fled from her cheeks. She sank down as : though she had been stricken by a heavy blow. : A few seconds so, and then she started once j more to life. . | "Fool! madman ! liar!" she yelled. "You ' have some base purpose in trying to frighten ; me! But you cannot do it." "You mistake, madam," I said, calmly and smilingly. "I have no thought of frighteuing j you. But, on the contrary, I seek to restore ; you to a state less paiaful and dreadful than ; the one you are now in. Listen to me, and I ! will fell vnn what. T would hava von do. But first answer me this: Did your Uncle Ebenezer leave a will ?" "No !"she cried, vehemently. "He left no such thing. He never made a will. He never thought of making a will. If any body says he made a will, that body lies! There, sir! That's what I've got to say about the will!" "And now," I pursued, "I would have you hearken to a proposition which I have to make. On the morrow your husband will go to a certain firm of solicitors whom I shall appoint to administer to his uncle's estate, and he will say unto them, "Gentlemeu, I cannot enjoy a property which is not properly my j own. I know it was my uncle's wish that ten thousand pounds of his money should be given to Mrs. Mary Downing. He also wished that, five thousand pounds should be given between the three children of his brother's widow?the children which were born to her | after she married her second husband. They j are now orphans, and he loved them dearly. He furthermore desired that a thousand pounds should be given to the church of: which he was so long a member ; and that the rest of his property, after paying his debts, should be safely invested in the funds, the proceeds therefrom to be used for the education of such friendless orphans and the chil-: dren of the poor parents, residents in his na-! tive town, as may be deemed worthy of the i assistance. And he will say unto them fur-; ther, that for himself and his wife, Nancy, he i l 1 1.1- _ 1 - 1_ ! _ 1_ xl 1! ; claims oniy me nouse iu wnicn mey now nve,; his uucle having intended that she should . own it." The woman gazed at me in blank amazement ; but, before she could speak, I continued, "if your husband will do this, I will pledge myself that I will never divulge the dreadful secret which has come to my knowl-! edge. I know how, day by day, you gave to ; that poor, confiding old man the poison that destroyed his life. I know how you mixed the i antimony with the drink you gave him ; how ! you changed the medicine of the physician into a deadly draught; and how you saw ! your uncle wasting?wasting?wasting?his | strength failing, and his life ebbing ; saw him suffering from the effects of the fatal drug ;! and yet you continued to administer it. O, Adam Varney?" Until that moment the man sat like one i upon whom some stunning blow had fallen? . sat gazing upon me with astare almost idiotic ;! but, as I thus spoke his name, he started to j his feet, evidently forgetful of everything save the picture of his dying uncle, and of the ac- \ cusation I had laid upon him. His lips were I colorless, his cheeks blanched, his eyes glaring wildly, as eyes glare when one has suddenly ; discovered a ghost in the solemn gloom, and his fingers were clutched in the bosom of his j shirt. "By the great God that made me!" he 1 yelled, "you lie when you say that to me. I noiTuf tormarl nrtw nnnln nairar tiflvor nau/ir I never gave him any antimony, and I never j hatched up the thing for anybody else to do. I never gave him anything while he was ill. He'd tell ye so if he was living. He'd tell ye j , it wasn't me." ! It would be utterly impossible for me to describe the looks with which Mrs. Varney | j regarded her husband as he thus spoke, j : Suffice it to say that the spirits of rage, mortification, disgust, hatred,, fear, agony, spite ! and vindictiveness possessed her soul by turns. ' Nancy's direct confession could not have At the time of his arrival an expedition I svas fitting out to drive the pirates from their ! stronghold, and he asked that it be delayed, j Ulaiborne laid the letters before bis council, i but they would not believe them genuine, and ! ;he expedition was ordered to sail. Sorely ' disappointed, Lafitte returned, but before he ! reached his quarters, his forts had been at ;acked, his fleet sunk or captured, and his i nen scattered. The spoil that fell into the 1 lands of the Americans amounted to five hun-; Ired thousand dollars. T* a-a a nnw tnn lnt.p t.n ancent the flattering i strengthened my belief, for I already simply j knew that she had done the murder. I fur-11 thermore knew, from information derived j from Dr. Turner, that the money which Eben i < Varney had left was all in the bank. Indeed,; I everything save the real estate was at presentj 1 in the bank. . j < Having arrived at this point, I determined [1 to make quick work of it. So, while the wo- j' man was still glaring at her husband, I arose i 1 to my feet, and took my hat; and, as they ; ' looked to see what this movement meant, I ( said to them, "Dr. Turner does not yet know of this thing. It is known at present only to < myself and to a few gentlemen who assisted ; 1 me in the investigation. For one week we j will keep the investigation to ourselves ; and 1 if, at the end of that time, you have disposed J( of the property as I have dictated, I give you i1 my word that you shall be permitted to con-15 ? * ?1- 1 ?_1 A. I C tinue to live witn oniy sucn pumsnmeui as i your own consciences may bring upon you. |1 Aud God knows tbat punishment will not be j light. If. however, at the end of the week j J you shall not have done as I have bidden, i1 then I shall turn your case over to the officers Is of the law. Here is a written list of the be- j 1 quests as I gave them to you, so you can make j( no mistake." And here I threw the scrap of j 1 paper upon the table. "Now go and do as I J have said ; and be sure you cannot obtain a 1 guinea from the bairk without my knowledge." "You?you?can't prove it! You can't i{ prove it!" the woman shrieked, as I moved i' toward the door. j' I stopped, and turned, and met her gaze. y "Nancy Varney," I said, "your dead uncle t is the witness I shall bring against you." And j with this I departed. | Five days after I was in the town of Bar- j11 tondale agaiu, and I made it in my way to ! ? call on Dr. Turner; and in the course of con- |c versation, he said to me, "By the way, Lord, ' those Varncys have done a curious thing. | 8 They have been to Thompson and Borthwick, j ? the lawyers, and have, of their own free will, t declared that it was their uncle's dying re-' r quest that of his property ten thousand pounds v should be given to Mary Downing, and five 8 thousand to the children of his brother's ' widow, one thousand to the church, and ^ that the rest should be safely invested for the e benefit of the poor and friendless children of u the town, reserving to themselves only the ? estate upon which they have lived. Curious, 11 now?very curious,isn't it?" a "It is curious," I admitted. And then I r asked him what people thought it meant. "Well," said he, "the general impression is I j" that the old man left a will to this effect, and that they have destroyed it, and their troubled consciences have led them to the course they \ have taken." I x "And what will the solicitors and the bank- F ers do ?" I asked. 1 "They have concluded to dispose of the ^ property as has been thus suggested, and ask j no further questions." In the spring I saw Dr. Turner again, and ^ he told me that the Varneys had sold their property in Bartondale, and gone to America, j. fpswllatiwus Reading.J THE PIRATE OF THE GOLF. The following narrative contains much that 1: will be new and of interest to most of our a readers: F Jean Lafitte, the "Pirate of the Gulf," as . he was usually culled, was a Frenchman by birth, early enlisted iu the French imvy, and ; soou fell into the hands of the English, by j a whom he was cruelly treated, kept a long j % time in prison, anil ouly liberated when j 1 brought by confinement and torture to the j very borders of the grave. He thus acquired ? a hatred of the English, which he took occu- 1 sion to gratify on the occasion of the memora- | ble attack on New Orleans. Of his early life more than the above is not known. That he was wild, restless and dar- j ing; cold, unscrupulous and cruel, may well ? be imagined. The first positive glimpse we j ^ get of his mature life is at the Island of j ^ Grand Terre or Barataria, an undulating;.' piece of laud, five or six miles long, some ! - m . p .1 - j-i..- .1. at: ! 8' sixty nines west or uieueuu ui me iTiissiaaij;- i pi. Here, in u good harbor, in a strong, uat* ; ural position, made stronger by forts and bat-1 teries well armed and manned, Jean Lafitte, , with 600 or 800 men and eight or ten vessels, 1 established his headquarters about the year 1807. r From this stronghold his cruisers wentforth, sometimes under one flag and sometimes un- ] der another, plundering the rich merchantmeu which were traversing the Gulf on their way to a profitable market. But Lafitte re- a pelled the appellation of pirate. He claimed ^ to be only a "privateer." Spain had become : g| involved in war with her South American j colonies, and the latter were sending out pri-! a vateers to prey upon Spanish commerce, j ^ From the government of Cartageua Lafitte j ^ obtained a commission, and entered upon a j c career of plunder, little caring what flag his j ^ victims bore so they covered a rich cargo. g] Spanish, French, English and American 1 11 *1 1 ! ? J I were mi me siirne 10 mm, auu nc suuu ucvuwc ; ^ a terror to all honest navigators. The rava-! u ges of the Alabama and other Confederate i cruisers were small compared with the havoc c made by Lafitte's piratical fleet. It is esti- ? mated that four hundred richly-laden ships j, were captured by him and his lieutenants, v their cargoes being marketed in New Orleans, j v into which port they were smuggled. Finally, in 1813, the authorities of Louisi- j ana, weary of the lawlessness carried on so ; p near their borders, issued a proclamation 1 j, through Governor Claiborne, dated New Or- j n leans, March 15, 1813, reciting the numerous ! r acts of piracy and smuggling with which i the occupants of Barataria were charged and j ordered them to disperse. The proclamation j a was disregarded, and soon after the Governor j g offered a reward of $5000 for Lafitte's head. c This was shortly followed by a counter-proclamation from the pirate, promising a reward of $50,000 to any one who would deliver Governor Claiborne into his hands. t Matters were in this condition when, late in ti 1814, the English resolved to attack New Or-1 n leans. But the difficulties in ascending the ii Mississippi were numerous, and they finally t! resolved to seek a passage through Barataria j C and its bayous; and, considering our relation 1 o between the authorities of New Orleans and ! fj the piratical crew at that point, they were con- j fident of attaching Lafitte to their interest, j I Thus on the 30th of August, 1814, Captain ! n Lockyer, of the British ship Sophie, sailed on ; S that mission. The Baratarian chief then had j J -I 1 AA 1 1'!" /lAmmnnd fli 1 ftonn I ? 1,1UU IUCU UIJUU1 1119 tUUIUlUUU, UWU Irllllwvvu , t armed vessels. ! u Capt. Lockyer was permitted to land, and i J had a private interview with the pirate, at: which he promised him, as a reward for his | y cooperation, ?50,000 in coin, a commission in ' I his Majesty's navy, and a free pardon for j t! himself and followers. Lafitte requested ten ; n days for consideration, pretending a desire to I f( consult some of his associates who were then gi absent. j t As before intimated, Lafitte hated the Eug-1 ti lish on account of their cruelty to hira in early si life. His interest, too, was with the Araeri-; a cans. Mew Orleans was his best market for r stolen goods, and it was important that he tl should conciliate the American Government, d Therefore, he instantly departed for New Or- j fi leans, presented himself before Gov. Clai- j c borne in disguise, laid before hirn the dis- n patches from Capt. Lockyer, and others from t Lafitte, promising to aid the American cause,! e if pardoned. 1 r pvertures from the English, even if he was so I inclined, and his only salvation was in an ; American alliance. He accordingly again vrote to Claiborne, saying that he and his ; ornmand were "willing to enroll themselves j igainst the enemy." Gen. Jackson was con- j suited, and was strongly in favor of the j icherae. Accordingly, Gov. Claiborne issued i proclamation, concluding as follows : "I therefore do hereby invite them (the Baratarians) to join the standard of the Uni;ed States, and am authorized to say that ihould their conduct in the field merit the approbation of the major-general, that that officer will unite with the Governor in a request .0 the President of the United States to exend to each and every individual so marchng and so acting a free and full pardon." Lafitteanda hundred or so of his followers :mbraced these conditions; and more than rnlf that number came out of prison to enroll hemselves in Jackson's army, and their services and conduct received the highest praise. An official account of the battle says: 'Thus early on the morning of January 8, ^815, a rocket, sent up by the British forces, mnounced that the action was about to be fin. The Americans had made a breastwork >f cotton bales, which extended from the levee o the woods back of Rodriguez plantation, ind about eight o'clock in the morning the annon of the British forces were brought to tear upon it,"but without effect. Geu. Caroil, with his flat-boat drilled Teunesseeans, yent to work like men accustomed to such i cenes. Gen. Coffee had had a position with i he troops under him near the woods, and was ery successful in repelling the attacks of the nemy, and the volunteers of Louisiana inder Major Pluche covered themselves with ;lory. Lafitte and his followers had com- i nand of two guns near the edge of the river, ; ind the precision and coolness of his every j novement won for him the approbation of all. i Thirty days after the battle the President ; 3sued his proclamation of amnesty, in which te said: "Among the evils produced by the wars i vhich, with little intermission, have afflicted Europe and extended their ravages into other >artst>f the globe, for a period exceeding i wenty years, the dispersion of a considerable j tortion of the inhabitants of different coun- i ries, in sorrow and want, has not been the : east injurious to human happiness nor the east severe in the trials of human virtue. It ind been long ascertained that many foreigurs, flying from the dangers of their own lomes, and that someof our own citizens, for- i ;etful of their duty, have cooperated in formngan establishment on the Island ofBarataia, near the mouth of the Mississippi, for the >urpose of clandestine and lawless trade." The President then goes on to recite the leroic conduct of the outlaws at New Orleans, .nd closes with a grant of full amnesty for all >ast offences. Soon after, the pirate chief visited Washngton and was received with much distincion by the President and other offieinls For , time he seemed to enjoy the flatteries of i [overnment officials, but eventually grew : estless, went to Baltimore, purchased a ves- i el, called for a volunteer crew, and with a oramission obtained from one of the agents of i he South American Republic, sailed for the i ulf. Of his operations there the following < rom a report of the Governor of Louisiana ] nil give a key. The writer says: I "The breaking up of these freebooters is of ' ho utmnat imnnrf.nnofi to the United States. 1 Dr it is ascertained that vessels clearing from few Orleans with passengers have been capured, every soul on board murdered, and the I lentical cargoes brought to New Orleans aud < old by the pirate's agents." i A rendezvous being indispensable, and not 1 aring to return to Barataria, Lafitte fixed 1 pon the present site of GalvestoD, and hoisted is flag there in 1817. Very soon after the collector of customs at 1 few Orleans wrote to the authorities of Wash- ] igtou, as follows . < "I deem it my duty to state that the most 1 liameful violatious of our revenue laws con- 1 iuue to be committed with impunity, by a ' jotley mixture of freebooters and smugglers i t Galveston, it being little less than the rees- < ablishmeot of Lafitte's Baratarian band < amewhat more out of the reach of justice." ] But strange to say the government took no i ction, and the rover who had but lately been 1 be President's guest still scoured the sea for } i ooty. His force increased, until his navy J onsisted of thirteen armed vessels, manned ] y one thousand men. The largest of his ] hips mounted fourteen heavy guns. I In 1819 the collector of New Orleans again 1 rrote to his government, urgiDg the breaking < p of the band, and said : J "On the part of these pirates we have to ontend with, we behold an extended and or- i anized system of enterprise, of ingenuity, of i idefatigability, and of audacity favored by a I ariety of local advantages, and supported al- 1 rays by force of arras." I In 1821 decisive action was taken, and i .lieutenant Kearney, with the Enterprise, ap- i eared before Galveston, and demanded its 1 nmivlinte evacuation. There was no alter- l ative, and in two months the last of the pi- [ j ateshad fled, and organized American piracy | 1 lecaine a thing of the past. I < Lafitte died iu Yucatan four years after, | < nd is buried in the little Indian village of j i lilan, about fifteen miles from Merida, the j apital. ! 1 JUDGE MACKEY "INTERVIEWED." j j We happened on Monday to meet on the j < rain Judge T. J. Mackey, who was just re- j i urning from a visit to Washington. Recog-j i iziug in this circumstance material for an j I ;em, we straightway interviewed him as to ' < be attitude of the administration on South : < /'arolina affairs. Judge Mackey was quite j bliging and furnished us with the following , icts: j I Judge Mackey, iu company with Senator ! 1 tobertson (who is high in favor with the ad- I linistration,) called upon the President. ! i lenator Robertson referred to the course j i udge Mackey has lately pursued in cringing i s rirainals to justice. President Grant turned ' ] pon him and said, "Why don't you convict i s loses?" The Judge replied that he had not ' ad an opportunity of having our native j 1 oung Governor brought to justice. The ! i 'resident then remarked that he had heard i { hat a Justice of the Supreme Court had < laintained that Moses coald not be tried be- f 3re impeachmeut, and denounced this propo- 1 ition that a President or a Governor is above i he law as monstrous. He was corrected as f o the Judge who thus decided. Graut 1 eemed much disgusted with the condition of < flairs, and rasped Judge Mackey for the i eason that every Republican is responsible for i he villainy existing here. He emphatically j eclared that there must be a true reform this i all, or the Republican party would not re- i oguize its bastard monster. He also de- } ounced the conduct of Moses in calling out 1 he militia, to defy a process of the court, and 1 uquired as to what posse the Court could 1 aise to enforce its warrants. He was in- ' formed that there were enough honest men oi sufficient courage to be found to arrest anj miscreant. President Grant then affirmed that the Federal troops in South Carolina were noi here to enforce the collection of exorbitant taxes, and that he wished this to be understood, They were stationed here for national pur poses, such as arresting illicit distillers and the like. President Grant was much incensed at the disgraceful conduct of Neagle in firing into Col. Black's house while on a drunken spree, - ' * ? i ?.;i? and thought be sbouia nave ueeu sumiu?n; dealt with. In fine, President Grant was utterly disgusted with affairs here. The load is too heavy for the party or himself to bear. He' has abandoned the Louisiana policy, and as Judge Mackey says, flattened out the Radical Governor, Davis, of Texas, although Davis was backed by the State Supreme Court; and also cooked Brooks' goose, although Baxter was supported by the Conservatives. Judge Mackey thinks that Grant will henceforth pursuea broader policy toward the South. Judge Mackey believes that by the aid of the National Administration, and the labors of all honest reformers in South Carolina, an acceptable candidate will be nominated for Governor who will rout Scott, Chamberlain, Moses, Patterson and Elliott and all the ring, horse, foot aud dragoons. We sincerely trust that he is correct, and we pledge the Conservatives of Fairfield to aid in any genuine reform that may be proposed.?Fairfield News, 2nd instant. ? ?Turkish Women.?There is a great deal of misconception in this country as to the status and treatment of women of Turkey. Most persons imagine that every Turk is more or less a Blue-beard, with four wives at least, and as many concubines to boot as he can afford, the whole of whom are mere slaves of ki'a nonrifd inilprt hv filiniichs. aild without M.W WMf. WW, JV...V- -J , domestic authority of any kind. Nothing could well be farther from the reality. Instead of this paradisic plurality being the rule, polygamy, in fact, is fast going out, as of the present generation of Mussulmans few have more than two wives, while the great majority have only one. Odalisques, again, are the "luxury" of the very rich, and a very rare luxury, too, for in Turkey, as in monongamous lands, wives are jealous of their rights and?whatever may have been the laxer rule in the good old times?they nowadays set their faces stoutly and successfully against illegitimate rivals. The klianum is in reality as much mistress chez elle as any Christian wife of the day, and has, if anything, more than her fair share of authority indoors. Instead, therefore, of the harem being a prison, guarded with bolts and bars, it is rather a sanctuary from which care and trouble are, as far as humanly possible, excluded. The man is always the bread-winner; he alone bears the attendant anxieties of life, while the woman passes her days, if not in Arcadian innocence and calm, at least free from the frivolous and not always innocent amusements which sometimes make up the existence of her Christian sisters. The Turks are, unfortunately, not free from evils, many introduced from foreign countries, but there is one evil? the social evil?which has no home among them. The yashmak, feridjie and shalwar, it is true, still hold their ground, but feminine coquetry has long since displaced the old opaque swathing, that hid everything except the eyes, for the diaphanous gossamer, through which th<? whole battery of the wearer's charms now plays as freely as if no single fold of muslin remained. The bright eyes flash, and the pearly teeth dazzle beneath the veil, which, from the fineness of its texture, no longer serves to conceal, but rather adds an additional charm to the natural beauties sf the wearer. The yellow papoosh, too, has largely yielded to the elastic European boot; but the Louis Quatorze abomination and its 'graceful Grecian Bend" are as yet foreign to the precincts of Stamboul. Prophecy of Mr. Calhoun.?Below will be found an extract from Mr. Calhoun's address to the people of the South, on the part Df the Southern members of Congress, published in 1849. This singular prophecy has been fulfilled to the very letter: If emancipation ever should be effected, it will he thrnnoh the apencv of the Federal ..... """- ??? -o ?/ ^ Government, controlled by the dominant power of the Northern States of the Confed2racy, against the resistance and struggle of the Southern. It can then only be effected by the prostration of the white race; and that would necessarily engender the bitterest feelings of hostility between them and the North. Owing their emancipation to them, they 20uld regard them as friends, guardians and patrons, and centre, accordingly, all their sympathy in them. The people of the North would not fail to reciprocate and favor them instead of the whites. Under the influence of such feelings, and impelled by fanaticism and love of power, they would not stop at emancipation. Anotherstep would be taken to raise diem to a political and social equality with dieir former owners by giving them the right )f voting and holding public offices under the 1 i /i j_ r eaerai uovernraeni. We see the first step toward it in the bill tlready alluded to?to vest the few blacks md slaves with the right to vote on the question of emancipation in this district. But when once raised to an equality they become the fast political associates of the North, actng and voting with them on all questions, md by this political union between them, adding the white race at the South in complete subjection. The blacks and the profligate whites that might unite with them could become the principal recipients of Federal affices aud patronage, and would in consequence be raised above the whites in the South in the political and social scale. We would in a word change conditions with them?a degradation greater than has ever yet fallen to the lot of a free and enlightened people, and one from which we could not es?ape should emancipation take place (which it certainly will if not prevented,) but by fleeing the homes of ourselves and ancestors, and by abandoning our country to our former slaves, to become the permanent abode of disorder, anarchy and wretchedness. "Got a Meal Anyhow."?In our town there lived a hardware merchant whose wife was stingy and miserly to the highest degree. r-l .1 4 t-veu me oiuest luimunuui, ui uui b recollect that she ever invited any one to dinner or supper, and especially as they themselves ate well and lived in first-rate style. Her motto was "self-eating makes fat," and she acted thereon. One day an old farmer whom I will name Davis, a customer of the Hardware dealer, called on the old lady just ibout dinner time. They just had an extra jood lunch on account of the birthday of her nldest son. She told Mr. Davis to take a seat ind make himself easy, which he did, but at ;he same time he looked over at the table with such a heart-broken eye as only a hungry stomach can inspire. The old lady asked lim how his wife was ? "Oh!" says he, "I lon'tcare about eating; I took a late breakfast this morning." The old lady was astonshed, but asked him, nevertheless, what the nrospect for the crop was. He replied, "I am nuch obliged to you, madam, but I assure pou I have no appetite, and I am obliged to rou just the same." The old lady thinking le might be hard of hearing, said in a very oud tone, "Mr. Davis, since when have you neen hard of hearing ? How did it come on ? fell me. I am so sorry foryou." "Oh, well," f1 says Mr. Davis, "if you want to force me to r eat, and if it gives you such pleasure, all | right, then, I will submit," and with this he s moved his chair right up to the table, and ! j taking a plate, he commenced to visit a ruin , i upon that table such as the old lady never , j dreamed of; soup, fish, vegetables, bread, and the bottle of wine generally reserved for the 1! pater familias, all went the way of human j flesh. He then took out? his pipe and his ! J cabbage-dried-hot-corn tobacco, and after >' lighting some, remarked, "Well, there is noth , j ing like a square meal and a pipe after it." J The unfortunate old lady quickly retired, undoubtedly pouring blessings on Mr. Davis' head, whose expression was uncommonly mildly-looking and contented.?Dan. News. ! Unbolted Wheat as Food.?Wheat may ' be styled the King of the Cereals, for no other ( grain enters so largely into the daily food of all civilized nations. There are substantial , reasons, too, why it should be preferred. Its , superior flavor is, no doubt, an important consideration ; but, perhaps, the true reason for the preference given it, lies in the fact that f wheat contains more of all the elements re| quired to keep the system in a healthy condition than any other grain. Reference is now made to the pure wheat, for it seems beyond question that the true and only healthy way to use this grain is in some preparation which shall preserve all its elements. The custom of separating the white portion of the grain from the bran and using only the former, is a false and pernicious one, and has been and is now doing infinite harm. Thousands of cases of dyspepsia may be traced to a too free use of bread, pastry, cake, etc., made from fine flour. It is a fact, revealed by chemical analysis, but not generally understood, that by far the most nutritious part of the wheat is found in the bran, and this is practically thrown away, or considered only suitable for horses and cattle, in order that flour may be produced white enough to satisfy a false taste among the people. Preparations of whole wheat, therefore, such as crushed wheat, Graham Flour, etc., are far more healthful, than fine flour, and if they were universally used, many of the ills which afflict unhappy humanity would be unknown. The Largest Landholder in America. Mr. George Grant, the proprietor of the famous Victoria Colony, in Kansas, is the largest landholder in America. He is a Scotch gentleman, who acquired a large fortune as a silk merchant in London, and who, with an enterprise and energy as unflagging as that of an ambitious youth who has a fortune still to make, comes over here with* his fifty years' experience and ample fortune, which he invests in the soil of Kansas, and in the improvement of stock. Mr. Grant has just reI turned to St. Louis from Chicago, where he went to meet stock coming from Canada. His land continues to be taken up by Scotch, English and American parties. About twenty square miles have been already taken up by New Yorkers, among whom are Mr. Gunther (nephew of the ex-mayor,) Mr. Shields, and Messrs. Clarke, Fisk, Flagg and others. Mr. Moller, owner of the largest sugar refinery in New York, has lately come out with his wife and daughter, and taken up three square miles along Big Creek River. An English gentleman, Mr. RatclifFe, of London, has purchased three square miles for himself and four square miles for two of his friends. They all intend to come out with their families next spring. The colony differs in every respect from others founded in the United Ot?t?3| iMV*i of tiro ooUUm koiag p?wo?a wf fair fortunes, who are seeking a healthy climate and country life. * ? Little Things.?Walking along the street the other day, we saw a heavily loaded wagon going slowly through an open gateway. When partly through, the gate swung to, ana would have hit the wagon, had not a boy who was passing seen the danger and jumped to the rescue. He was just in time to save a jar, and perhaps a breakage. The driver was busy with his horses, and knew nothing about it. The boy slung his books over his shoulder and went, whistling and unthanked, on his way. It was only a little thing?a very little thing, you will say ; and yet the unconscious, matter-of-course style in which it was done, showed that it was his daily habit to do just such little helpful things whenever he found them to do. There are some people?and blessed is every family that owns of them? who go about, giving a little push here, or a pull there, to help over the hard places, taking little hindering things out of the way, so that others will not stumble over them, and keeping the family machinery so well oiled with kind words and deeds that it cannot help running smoothly. There is scarcely one of us who has not the daily opportunity for doing just such little helpful things that nobody notices, perhaps, but that add so much to the comfort and happiness of every family. And this is true, not only of the "little acts of kindness," but of the "little words of love." Married by the Mayor.?Rachel Millen, an attractive brunette, was taken from Blackwell's Island, New York, on a writ of habeas corpus and produced before Judge Westerbrook on Friday. Her lawyer, in moving for her release, told a remarkable storv. She had worked out as chambermaid and given her wages to her father, aud as long as he received her earnings he was content ; but when she began to keep her money to prepare herself for marriage with young Emil Schneider, to whom, meantime, she had pledged her troth, the father took her before Justice Murry and had her committed to BlackweH'8 Island as an incorrigible girl. Emil and Rachel met in the Supreme court j room on Friday, and after the story had been I told, Judge We8terbrook asked the young i man whether he was willing and ready to ! marry the girl. Emil promptly replied in the affirmative. "Then take her to the Mayor's office," said his Honor, "and when you return with a marriage certificate, I will release your bride." Mayor Havemeyer performed the ceremony ; Clerk Van Buskirk made out a certificate of marriage; the couple returned to the court room, and Judge Westerbrook, coni gratulating them, made his word good. j Character is Capital.?What you can effect depends on what you are. You put I your whole self into all that you do. If that j self be small, lean and mean,*your entire life work is paltry, your words have no force, your : influence has no weight. If that self be pure and high, true and kind, vigorous and forceful, your strokesare blows, your notes staccatos, your work massive, your influence cogent, you can do what you will. Whatever your position, you are a power, you are felt as a kingly spirit, you are as one having authority. j Too many tbinfc ot cnaracter cnieny in its reI lation to the life beyond the grave. I certainI ly would not have less thought of it with ref; erence to that unknown future, on the margin of which some of us, undoubtedly, are at this moment standing; but I do wish that more consideration were bestowed upon its earthly uses. I would have young men, as they start in life, regard character as capital, much surer to yield full returns than any other capital, unaffected by panics and failures, fruitful when all other investments lie dormant, having a certain promise in the present life as in that which is to come.?A. P. Peabody. J?* "Gracious me!" exclaimed a lady in a Louisville witness box, "how should I know anything about anything I don't know any