Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, August 21, 1879, Image 1
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lewis m. grist, proprietor. $itbepenbeitt Jamilg ftetospper: Jfor % ^ramution of tjje political, Social, ^jricaltnral attb Commercial Interests of t|e Soat|. TERlS--$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE.
VOL. 25. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, AUGUST 21, 1879. NO. 34.
I ** t _ ~ I
SftlttM foetrg.
TIME RUNS ON.
We see the blossoms brightly glow,
We listen to the brooklet's flow,
We hear the gay bird's merry call,
We note the blue sky over all;
Lo 1 while we say "The world is sweet,"
The white frost cnills our waiting feet.
The babe, now cradled in our arms,
To-morrow wakes to girlhood's charms;
Anon, a captive maiden stands,
A willing captive in love's bands;
Ere long, a world-worn train await
Their summons throngh death's somber gate,
Prom flower to fruit is but a day ;
From youth to age a swift, brief way;
Yet, ir we garner fast and well,
The ripening harvest who can tell ?
For time runs on; yet every hour
Is rich with some God-given power.
All up and down the world we see
Life's royal gifts as scattered free ;
The patient hand has but to bind
The bounteous sheaves, each year to find
Earth's green- and gold will turn to wheat;
Though time runs on, the world is sweet.
We may not find the Autnm way
Has jnst the glory of the May,
And silver head and waning sight
May feel "life's Summer was so bright
And yet a chastened beauty glows
Where full rich lives grow near their close.
The world is sweet, yet time runs on;
And" when our songs, our flowers are gone,
Lo 1 others will the sickle wield
Adown the same'bright harvest field ;
And others watch, on sunny eves.
The reapers bringing home their sheaves.
Ihr Jtorcjj leller.
CfflCUMSTANTIALEVIDENCE.
' 't
There is one grim old story told in ancient
law-books, of a murder committed at an inn.
It was a little country inn, in a rather unfrequented
places and there, on one wintry
night, arrived two sets of guests. One party
consisted of an elderly invalid gentleman and
his man-servant; the other of two gentlemen,
friends, traveling in company. The accommodation
was rather limited, and the manservant
was stowed awav in a loft. The two
* ? - i? _v:i_
friends agreed to snare one cnamuer, nune
the old gentleman was to occupy that next to
theirs. The three gentlemen spent the evening
together in the common room, the landlord
and the man-servant coming to and fro
in attendance. It transpired, somehow, that
the elderly invalid was traveling in possession
of considerable valuables. This matter
was touched opon but lightly; in fact, it
was little more than an inference which might
be drawn from something he said. About
midnight all the travelers retired to rest. An
hour or two after, one of the friends awoke.
Lying in silence, he heard something like a
groan, and, on its being repeated* he aroused
his companion, and both listened. The sound
came from the next apartment. They sprang
to their feet, and, thinking their neighbor
might be suddenly and dangerously ill, they
hastily struck a light and went to bis room.
,But they found that they had been anticipated
; light already streamed from his opened
door, and at his bedside stood the landlord,
with a face of horror, and in his hand a
bloody knife. As the gentlemen entered the
room, the invalid gave a last groan and expired
from a deadly wound in the throat.
Naturally, the two gentlemen seized and
secured the landlord. Between the tell tale
weapon in his hand and the extreme dismay
and trepidation which he manifested, he
might almost be said to be taken in the act.
They roused the house. The few sleepy ser-.
vants came hurrying in, among them the
footman of the murdered man. So great was
the host's terror that it was some time before
he could utter a siugle word which might put
a different complexion on the case. At last
he found wits to declare that, like the gentle
men, he had. been roused by the groans, and,
fearing robbers, had armed himself with a
knife and hurried forth, hoping to be in time
to give help; that when he saw the awful
sight in the bed-chamber, the knife had fallen
from hi* hand into the blood, and he had remained
for a few moments powerless.
Such a story seemed credible enough, but
there were sundry circumstances which instantly
falsified it. The room where the landlord
had slept was too remote from the scene
of the murder for any groans to have reached
it; and the knife was not one of those in
ordinary use, which might have been hastily
snatched up, but resembled others which were
kept locked in a chest in his bedroom. Of
these circumstances he could offer no explanation,
nor yet of sundry ejaculations he had
uttered when first surprised.
In apite of his protestations of innocence,
in which, somehow, there seemed always a
curious reservation, he was condemned to die.
The night before his execution he made a singular
confession. He acknowledged that his
cupidity had been so excited by the idea of
his visitor's valuables, that he had resolved to
kill him, and to possess himself of them. For
this purpose he took out a knife and stole
from his bedroom. Probably, in the preoccupation
of his horrible enterprise, he heard no
footstep nor any groau; and the first thing
which warned him that all was not right, was
the finding the visitor's bedroom-door unlatched.
When his light fell ou the awful
scene, and he saw his own crime had beeu anticipated,
his knife fell from his palsied hand,
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auu nusu UO 1UUUU UlUlOUl IU umuwu
his accusers he had cried that "God's judgments
were on him." He owned that, though
he was in act guiltless of the murder, yet that
he was justly judged. But though he died
with every appearance of sincere repentance,
the general impression was that even his final
confession was but another vagary of a criminal
nature, playing with truth and falsehood
to the very end.
But years afterward a clergyman was summoned
to receive the last confidences of a man
Binking in consumption. This was the servant
of the murdered invalid. Then he owned thut
it was he who had slain his master. He had
stolen from his remote loft, and had just inflicted
the mortal wound wheu he was disturbed
by the landlord's approaching footsteps,
and fled, barefoot, in an opposite direction,
regained his bed, and remained there
until he was summoned by the cries of the
other lodgers. He indicated how and where
he had disposed of the weapon with which he
killed his master, details which were subsequently
verified. He was too near death to
be seized by justice, but the particulars of his
confession were made public, though in this
case the story cannot be concluded by the
formula with which the prim old law report
ere generally sura up such tragedies, "that the
innocence of the other man was thus comI
pletely vindicated."
Far more piteous is the story of William
Shaw, who lived in Edinburgh in 1721. He
was a respectable tradesman, and he had a
daughter named Catharine, who, unhappily,
had troublesome love affairs. Her own heart
inclined to one John Lawson, to whom her
father objected, saying that he was a profligate
youth, addicted to every kind of dissipation.
Shaw forbade the lover'his house, and
when he found that Catharine still saw hira,
clandestinely, the father imprisoned the
daughter on his own premises.
Whether Shaw was too hard, or whether
Catharine was too wilful, nobody can say,
There is one element in the case which draws
sympathy to the girl. There was not only a
lover to be given up, but a lover to be accepted.
While Shaw banished John Lawson, he
urged forward the suit of one Robertson
Catherine passionately declared that she
would die sooner than marry this man ; anc
many altercations were overheard between the
I father and daughter. The family seems to
j have consisted of these two only, and they
| lived in one of those "flats," or suites of
rooms, opening from a common stair, which
were common in Edinburgh then, as now,
I though in London, except in the Inns of
j Court, they are a modern innovation. Under
somewhat imperfect arrangement, this plan of
building offers facilities for hearing high voices
or heavy falls. The nearest neighbors of the
Shaws, a family named Morison, often overheard
the quarrels of the father and daughter.
Without troubling themselves to listen, they
could hear words which the girl screamed
shrilly in her grief and rage. One day the
quarrel waxed very loud and hot. James
Morison, as be sat following his occupation as
o mater, heard Catherine eivinz
vent to .such expressions as "barbarity !" cruelty
!" and "death!"
Presently he heard somebody leave the
room, shutting the door npisily and locking
it For some minutes afterward there was
silence. Then he heard several faint groans
in what seemed Catherine's voice. He felt
alarmed, and called the attention of others to
the sound. They went to the door of Shaw's
flat and listened there. Presently they heard
the daughter faintly exclaim, "Cruel father,
you are the cause of my death!" They
knocked imperatively for admittance. There
was no answer, and calling .the aid of the town
guard, they forced the lock. Catherine was
found lying in a pool of blood, with a knife
beside her. She was in the agonies of death,
and quite speechless, but when a neighbor
bent over her and inquired if it was her father
who had done this, she was just able to
make the affirmative motion with her head,
and then expired.
At this very moment, William Shaw returned.
At the sight of his daughter he
turned pale, trembled, and was ready to sink,
which, after all, was only only natural. Blood
UDon his shirt bore less doubtful witness
I t #
against him.
He was hurried before the magistrates, and
on his trial he fully admitted the angry terms
on which he and his daughter had lived of
late, also the bitterness of the quarrel before
their last parting; but he declared that he
left her then unhurt and well. He persisted
that the blood on his shirt was there in consequence
of his having bled himself, some
days before, and the bandage becoming untied
; but to this he could offer no corroborative
evidence. So he was found guilty, and
hanged in chains at Leith Walk.
Exactly one year later, the new tenant of
William Shaw's flat was making some rearrangements
in his room,; setting up a cupboard,
or shelves, or something which led him to pay
particular attention to the skirting-board
round the fireplace. Suddenly he caught
sight of a paper which seemed to have fallen
behind it. He took it out, and when he had
unfolded it, he read the following letter:
"Barbarous father, your cruelty in having
put it out of my power ever to join my fate
to that of the only man I could love, and
tyrannically insisting on my marrying one
whom I had always hated, has made me form
a resolution to put an end to an existence
which has become a burden to me. My death
I lay to your charge. When you read this,
consider vourself as the inhuman wretch who
plunged the murderous knife into the bosom
of the unhappy Catherine Shaw."
Many relations^and friends readily recognized
the handwriting. The high flown language.
the egotism of tone, alike reveal a
mind poisoned by the style of romance in
fashion at that epoch, and make us feel with
the poor father, who was probably honestly
desirous to save his child from real misery,
though, perhaps he did not take the best way
to do so. It reads like solemn irony that the
magistrates of Edinburgh ordered the body of
William Shaw to be taken from the gibbet
(the bones were still hanging in chains, according
to the ghastly old custom) and given
to his family for interment. And "as the
only reparation to his memory, and the honor
to his surviving relations, they caused a
pair of colors to be waved over his grave in
token of his innocence!"
Far less pathetic, but scarcely less grim, is
the story of three gentlemen supping together
at a Norfolk taveru iu the year 1684. One
became deeply intoxicated ; then the others,
also somewhat inflamed by wine, quarreled,
and oue snatched up tK6 sword of the drunken
man and stabbed the other to the heart.
And not until years after the drunkard had
been tried and executed for the murder, did
the other, then dying in extreme misery in
France, acknowldge that he, and he only,
had done the deed.
In the year 1660, two men named Perry
and their mother, were hanged for the murder
of a man who had never been murdered at all.
Mr. Harrison, Lady Campden's steward, having
been collecting his rents, suddenly disappeared.
John Perry accused his mother,
himself, and his brother of having robbed
Mr. Harrison in the previous year, and of
having again robbed him and murdered him
on the night when he was missed. The mother
and Richard Perry denied all knowlodge
of the matter; but at length pleaded guilty
to the first indictment under some pressure of
policy. The other indictment was not then
proceeded with, on the ground that the body
was not found. But John persisted in his
story, and at the next assize they were all
tried for murder. John then retracted his
confession, and said he must have been mad.
Nevertheless, they were all condemned. Some
*1 years after Mr. Harrison appeared alive,
! and thus accounted for his mysterious ab;
sence : "After receiving his rents, he had been
set upon by a gang of ruffians, carried to the
seaside, put on shipboard, and sold as a slave
to the Turks. After his master's death he
escaped, and with great difficulty, working his
way, first to Lisbon, and thence to Dover, he
arrived in England, as our law book coolly
says, to the surprise of all the country."
The last story we shall tell is another tale
of an inn. The Rising Sun was the name of
a public house on the high road between York
and Newcastle. It was kept by a man named
Harris, assisted by two servants, a man-named
i Morgan, and a maid. One evening a black|
smith stopped at the Rising Sun, supped and
1J slept there. Early next morning the ostler,
| Morgan, went to a neighboring magistrate
i and gave information that his master, Harris,
1 j had just murdered the traveler in his bed.
1 j The traveler was found at the public house
1 j lying dead, with every appearance of having
| been strangled. Harris was apprehended, but
positively denied the charge. Morgan as pos1
j itively affirmed it. Morgan deposed that he
! saw "his "master on the bed strangling the
! stranger. Harris declared that he found the
l man in a fit, and tried to assist him. Mors
i gan further said that he had afterwards seen
t! his master rifling the pockets of the deceased.
, I 'Harris denied every thing, and medical
; evidence was brought forward to prove that j
; all the marks on the body might have arisen j
.! from natural causes. The innkeeper was on j
j the point of being discharged, when the maid-1
[ servant requested to be sworn. She deposed
,, that almost directly upon Harris' coming j
! down on the morning of the traveler's death,!
she (being in a back wash-house, unknown to !
her master) saw hira go into the garden, take !
some gold from his pocket, wrap it up, and 1
i j bury it under a tree in a certain corner. Har-1
. ris was observed to be confused at this infor- j
! mation". An officer was sent with the girl,
!' and he dug up a packet containing ?30 at
. the spot which she indicated. Harris then
i I acknowledged having hidden the money, but
11 he did so with such reluctance, and with so
many evasions, that he was instantly committed
for trial.
At the trial, Morgan again deposed that he
had seen the murder committed. The girl
again swore to the concealing of the money,
and the constable proved having found it according
to her statement.
Harris had nothing to say except that
Morgan's evidence was entifely false, that the
buried money was his own, put away for better
security. The judge summed up; the
jury found the prisoner guilty, and he was
condemned to die.
Harris seemed to have taken his sentence
meekly. He persisted in his innocence, and
only lamented the sordidness of temper which,
he said, had led him into a general distrust
fulness, and into such ways as this of hiding
his money, which had proved his ruin.
After their master's death, Morgan and the
maid were married. They lived very unhappily,
and at last the wife disclosed the whole
story. They had both known their master's
miserly temper, and the girl had found out
that he buried money in the garden, a fact
which she reported to Morgan. They resolved
to let him go on doing so until it should
amount to a considerable sum, when they
purposed to seize it and decamp.
One day Harris and Morgan had a bitter
quarrel, and the master struck the man, whose
sullen temper instantly formed a resolution
to revenge himself. At this crisis the blacksmith
arrived. The next morning, Morgan
himself found him dead in his bed. With
diabolical inspiration he resolved to charge
his master with the murder, and to plunder
that master's hoard while he was in prison,
thus at once gratifying his hatred and his
greed. Of this scheme he apprised the girl,
and secured her approval. But when she
found that the accusation was not sufficiently
supported, while some words dropped in
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court leu ner to ioar turn, u jici ujoolci n?o
released her lover might be apprehended, she
resolved to sacrifice both the money and her
master, to secure the safety of the wretch,
Morgan.
After this confession, she and her husband
were both thrown into prison, but escaped
their public punishment by dying of jail fever.
It was afterwards found, by some quite
unexpected information, that the blacksmith
had had two previous attacks of apoplexy,
and had never, at any time, owned as much
as five pounds in money.
fgiscrUaiiMtts Hiding.
A TALK WITH SENATOR BUTLER.
THE LATE FIGHT IN CONGRESS AND THE
PRESENT SITUATION.
[Correspondence of the News and Courier.]
According to instructions I have interviewed
Senator M. C. Butler, and have succeeded in
obtaining his views on some of the more important
subjects now before the country. I
called on him at his residence, and after the
usual exchange of courtesies, stated the purport
of ray visit, and, with a little preliminary
skirmishing, the interview proceeded as
follows:
"After the smoke of battle has cleared away,
what is your opinion of the result of the political
conflict at the extra session of Congress
?"
"It is about what I supposed it would be
when the controversy opened. The Radicals
sounded their gongs, raised a great hue and
cry, and frightened the timid throughout the
country; but, as it progressed, the Democrats
gained on their adversaries and ended in a
substantial victory. The Radicals have, for
some years, concealed their real principles
under attacks upon the South, and this great
debate has compelled them to throw off the
mask and show their disregard for the Constitutional
limitations whioh attach to our Republic,
distinguishing it from any other that
has ever existed, and boldly avow their pur*
poses to make the Government what they
choose to call a 'strong government,' which,
in reality, means nothing less than a consolidated
Empire?built upon the destruction of
the States. Of course, the leaders deny having
any such purpose, but it is the inevitable
logic of their position. They cannot escape
it, and the Democrats ought not to allow them
to escape it."
"Do you think that will be the issue in the
next Presidential campaign ?"
"Unquestionably it ought to be, for if the
Radical party succeed in establishing the doctrines
announced in debate, as the settled policy
of the General Government, an entire
change of our system of government will follow.
A constitutional government of limited
powers, operating upon the individual citizen
through the States, except as to those powers
specifically granted in the constitution, or such
as are necessary to carry out specific grants,
will be converted into a consolidated centralism?if
I may use the term?responsible only
to the leaders of the dominant faction, who
wield the supreme power for the aggrandizement
of their party and for the distribution
of the spoils of office; and this change will
follow much more speedily than you suppose.
The exercise of national authority, in their
view, means the destruction of State authority,
except so far as the State governments
may be convenient instrumentalities for enforcing
the national will. The form of government
is much more effectually changed by
this means than by a dissolution of the Union,
or separation of the States, for in the latter
case Republican institutions may be preserved,
but in the former they will be entirely and
hopelessly destroyed."
"Do you think that Mr. Hayes sympathizes
with the extreme doctrines of his party leaders,
and is it your opinion that the rank
and file of the Republican party concur in
them ?"
"I will reverse the order of your question.
I do not believe the rank and file of the Republican
party in the North do concur in
such doctrines or principles as a general thing.
The rank and file of the Republican party in
the South have 110 opinions of their own, and
consequently can scarcely be held responsible.
I believe that a great many of the more
conservative Republicans of the North are
really devoted to correct principles of constitutional
government, but their leaders are
able, aggressive, and, in many instances, un
SUIUjJUiUUa 111 ciij nuu IUVC |AJ?yci iui mc caau
of power and the emoluments and importance
that it gives them, and not fcr the good
that they may do to their fellow man, and,
under the cry of party necessity and party
supremacy, many of these men will be borne
along and committed to a policy of government
which in their hearts they do not approve.
The battle-ground will be at the
North, and everything depends upon the pluck
and energy of the Northern Democracy. If
they do not permit the Radicals to raise false
issues and frighten the people by false alarms,
they can win. But they will have to press
home the real danger to liberty with untiring
pertinacity and tact. The pendulum has
been swung back in the South as it was when
Mr. Jefferson went into power in 1801, and
upon similar issues. As to Mr. Hayes, I have
no doubt he is in full accord and sympathy
with the extreme men of his party on these
questions. If you will read his veto messages
to the late appropriation bills of Congress,
you will discover that he pushed the right of
Federal interference with the affairs of the
States further than any man has ever ventured
in this country. No President, not even
Grant, with all his reckless disregard of civil
instrumentalities in the administration of
government, and reliance upon force and the
strong hand of centrtl power, has ever dared
to claim for the executive arm of the government
the power which Mr. Hayes insists
upon. Read his veto messages carefully, and
see if I exaggerate their scope and meaning."
"Well, General, the impression got abroad
in the country, in the earlier stages of the debate,
that the Republicans out-generalled the
Democrats and put them at a disadvantage.
How do you account for that?"
"It is due to several causes. As I have
said, the Radicals sounded their gongs and
made the most noise at first, and frightened
the timid minded of both parties. They
talked about 'revolution' and 'rebellion' and
* ' ? ?J InlflttAtm' ' onrl
secession Bill! siavcij auu muhvu uuu
'Confederate brigadiers' and almost everything
else, except the real issues under discussion.
But the country .got accustomed to
this, and as soon as it was discovered that the
revolution did not begin, and that the 'Confederate
brigadiers' were the most Conservative
and prudent men in Congress, the people
began to look at the facts, the scare wore off,
and the Radicals weakened. Another cause
for the impression to which you refer is to be
found, I think, in the coloring which was
given to the debates in the Associated Press
dispatches from Washington. When I came
home sick in June, I was struck with the
character of these dispatches. In them the
Radicals were almost always made to appear
to better advantage than the Democrats,
whether designedly or not I cannot say. But
having a pretty correct idea of the drift of
the debate, I could see that there was partiality
shown to the Radical speakers, and the
people naturally formed erroneous conclusions
from those dispatches. As to the Democratic
management, of course there were
mistakes, but in the main the controversy was
managed with great skill and tact and ability
by the Democratic leaders."
"I judge from what you have said, that the
financial question will not occupy so important
a position in the approaching campaign
as the political questions to which you have
referred ?"
"I do not thiuk so. In my judgment the
Radicals committed a great party blunder in
not forcing the financial question upon the
Democrats, instead of permitting the Democrats
to compel them to meet the issues which
they (the Democrats) made on 'the use of
troops at the polls/ and the 'deputy marshals/
'supervisors/ test oath/ Ac., Ac. True,
the Republicans were divided on financial
questions as well as the Democrats, but not
so much so, and if they had forced the fight
on that issue at the beginning of the extra
session, and kept it up, the Democrats of the
East and West might have been divided ; but
they did not do so, and the opportunity has
passed. I think the differences of opinion
among Democrats, on the silver question, (for
that is now about the only financial matter
upon which there is a difference of opinion,)
is more apparent than real, and I hope and
believe that before the Presidential canvass
opens, all differences will disappear and
the Democrats will be solid to go into the
fight on the consolidation doctrines of the
Radicals. I do not understand either wing
of the Democratic party to be opposed to silver
nor to its equalization with gold."
"What, then, is the point of difference in
the Democratic party on the silver question ?"
"As I said awhile ago, I think the difference
is more apparent than real. Nobody objects
to silver as a currency, and to its being made
' ?I + U '1 ktif tko nnoofinn id Jtmit this
UljUUl >Y J LII guiu, Utll. buv ljuuiiuuil .? I.v- .....
is to be accomplished. One set of Democrats,
more notably those who favored the "Warner
Silver Bill," as it was originally introduced,
think that the unlimited free coinage of silver
by the Governmen t is the best way to bring
about the equality?that is to say, if you
have $20,000 worth of silver bullion, which
is worth in reality but eighty-five cents in the
dollar of 412? grains, you shall be allowed to
carry the bullion to a United States mint
and have it coined into standard silver dollars,
so that the moment the Government stamp is
put upon^it, that which was intrinsically worth
but eighty-five cents, becomes by this artificial
appliance worth one hundred cents. On the
other hand, there are those who think that
silver having been fully reraonetized and invested
with unlimited legal tender power, it is
best to limit its coinage for the present, at
least, and gradually restore its equality to
gold. They think that the two metals, if let
alone, in their present relations, will readjust
themselves to each other, and to the business
of the country with, perhaps, such modifications
as trade and commercial interest and
time will dictate and justify. This is the
leading difference, only as to the means to
accomplish the same result, and I agree with
those who hold the latter opinions. It is
a very difficult, complicated subject, one of
the most difficult in governmental science,
is this question of finance, and very few
men in the world understand it, at least
in the application of its principles to government.
And yet you hear men talk about it
as glibly and confidently as if it were as simple
as "The Rule of Three." I confess, very
frankly, that there are many branches of the
subject that I do not fully comprehend and
grasp, but I prefer in this, as upon all other
questions, to take the conservative position,
and in the meantime to give the subject candid
consideration and the exercise of best
judgment."
"In what respect do the advocates of the
unlimited free coinage of silver claim that it
will be beneficial to the people ?"
"Why, they say it will make money more
abundant, stimulate business, enhance prices,
' y ^ ?I: a.
employ laoor, ana m mat way relieve tut
pressure of the times."
"Is it your opinion that it would have that
effect ?"
"No, not to any appreciable degree. I believe
that business will revive more surely,
perhaps somewhat more slowly, and reach a
normal condition more certainly?that prosperity
will be restored in all parts of the country
upon a more substantial and healthful
and permanent basis if the finances should
be let alone, (save one change in the system
which I could suggest,) than by incessant
tinkering, and the preparation of financial
nostrums at each session of Congress. Money
is the most timid and conservative of ajl the
elements and instrumentalities of business,
and requires to be placed upon a firm and
certain basis, and then to discharge its proper
functions. Those who are demanding more
; money, an inflation of the currency by the
j unlimited free coinage of silver, the issue of
j more greenbacks and such temporary makeshifts,
will not accomplish what they desire,
! until one and only one, very important change
! shall have been made in our financial system.
! In the silver war both parties are fighting at
a shadow, and I should be tempted to read
i the 'Comedy of Errors' to some of ray politi!
cal friends, who have gone daft on the silver
! question, if I were not afraid of giving ofj
fence."
| "What is the change which you would sug1
gest ?"
I "Abolish the national banks, and repeal the
! ten per cent, lax on the issues of Slate banks,
and the financial problem will be solved, in
my judgment."
"In what way would that benefit the country
?"
"In more ways than I shall be able to indij
cate at present. One thing, I think, is clearI
lv, demonstrable. that the unlimited free coin
age of silver will benefit no class of people
other than the bullion speculators. They
would make fifteen cents on the dollar, at the
*
present valuation of bullion, on every dollar
coined, and men like you and I would have
that fifteen cents to pay; and in an operation
of two or three hundred millions it would
amount to something. Silver bullion from
all parts of the world would flood the mints.
Every government with a surplus would unload
on us, drive out gold, derange business,
and where would it go when coined? Into
yours and my pockets ? Not at all; but into
national banks in the commercial centres.
And how are we to. get it out ? No easier
than we can now get money, and no more
readily if there were two thousand millions of
silver coined in the next six mouths. Abolish
the national banks, so that money can be
more properly distributed for the benefit of
the whole people, and then the loosening of
the floodgates of silver coin would not do so
rlow*oon Piif fnniInrr in on QArl
Ill UUli UailiOgGi JLJXAM KUiUUJg ?u mu ?MVI vwwvv.
volume into the old currents would not benefit
the people at large. You must first eradicate
the evils of the system, before attempting
to build it up to a healthy, vigorous
growth, by administering stimulants."
Who in Congress is responsible for the agitation
of the silver question ?"
"The Western men, in a great measure.
They are more largely in debt, I believe, than
we are, and the shrinkage ot values and reduced
price of their products, (a result which
succeeds the feverish, speculative character of
values after a great war, such as ours, as inevitably'ss
day follows night?we have felt it
keenly at the South,) has diminished their capacity
to pay, and they naturally clamor for
something for relief. There is great force in
their appeals, but, in my humble opinion,
they are not pursuing the effective course to
overcome the difficulties which environ us.
You see, it is so plausible to say, as most of
the free coinage men do say, 'that silver has
been degraded, and ought to b > restored to the
position it occupied before the war,' 'that it is
the people's money, and they want it,' 'that it
was the dollar of our daddies,' &c., Ac. Now
this all seems very fair and reasonable and
proper, but those who claim this for silver,
forget, or overlook, the changed condition in
the commercial world. In the ten .years intervening
between the years 18-c2 and 1862, the
annual average production of silver throughout
the world was estimated to be only from
forty to forty-five millions of dollars, and very
little of this from American mines. Whereas
in 1875 the aggregate production throughout
the world is estimated to have been seventyfive
millions of dollars. Silver has depreciated
much more than degraded in value, owing
to the large additional supply produced by the
American mines in recent years. The entire
revenues of India are now collected in silver,
and I commend to the extreme silver men the
experience of the Indian government, of late
years, by reason of it She lost in exchanges
in one year 815,000,000, because of her having
nothing but silver. Besides, Germany has
demonetized silver. The Latin Union has
suspended its coinage. England, the great
financial oentre of the world, adopted the gold
standard years ago, and she is to-day the
richest nation in the world, with all countries
paying tribute to her sagacity and superior
financial foresight. Moreover, inter-communication
in the commercial world required
weeks and .months, when only minutes and
hours are now required since the adoption of
the submarine telegraph. The balance of
trade in our favor for the last fiscal year
amounted to some two hundred and fifty odd I
millions. I speak from memory. Suppose
this amount could be paid in silver at eightyfive
cents in the dollar?instead of gold?and
you will have some idea of our immense losses.
If these balances should be paid in silver, at
its present value, instead of gold, our losses
would be more than thirty million dollars.
So that we have not the same conditions as
when silver was the 'Dollar of our Daddies,'
and it is much easier to talk about restoring
it to its former relation to gold and to the business
world, than to accomplish it. For the
life of me, I do not comprehend how any man
who has a pound of cotton to sell, can desire
any other than a gold standard. The price
of cotton in this country is regulated by the
price, in gold, in Liverpool. Why then
should I be required to take for my cotton a
currency which is depreciated in England as
well as in America, when I ought to get the
best price in the best currency ? Let us see
how it affects the chief market crop of the
South. The value of unmanufactured cotton
exported by us for the ten months ending
April 30, 1879, was one hundred and fifty
million eight hundred and seventy-nine thousand
three hundred and forty-five dollars
(6150,879,345.) Run fifteen cents in the dollar
through that sum, (and I merely adopt
that to represent the depreciation of silver, by
way of illustration?it may be more or less,)
and the measure of loss to the cotton producer
may be approximated. This, of course,
would not happen if we could control the
price of silver in England, France, Germany
and other countries with which we have commercial
transactions, but we cannot make
eighty-five cents' worth of silver worth one
hundred cents in England by placing the government
stamp on it as we can at norae, for
when it gets to England it rates simply as bullion,
and passes there only at its bullion
value."
,tT\_ T J x 1 i.1 I* ? ^
"UO l uuuersiauu _yuu, men, iu invui a oiugle
standard of coin currency ?"
"No, not absolutely. I think that it was
wise and proper to remonetize silver and to
limit its coinage, as I believe, with proper
limitations upon the coinage of silver, to he
regulated by circumstances, the two coins
might be made to supplement each other, and
operate harmoniously. Whereas the unlimited
free coinage of silver, as matters now
stand, would have the effect of driving gold
out of the country and entailing great losses
upon our people, as I have endeavored to illustrate
by the losses on cotton alone."
"Recurring to your suggestions about the
National Banks, would not their abolition
tend to unsettle business and produce confusion
iu monetary circles?"
"I think not. The repeal of the provision
of the National Bank act, which imposes a
tax of 10 per cent, on State issues, would settle
the troubles, at least so far as we in the
South are concerned. The comparatively
small amount of capital invested in South
Carolina in National banks would be transferred,
110 doubt, to institutions organized under
State authority as banks of issue, and become
much more satisfactory to investors in
bank stock. We should then have a currency
answering all the purposes of our people
in their business operations, as under State
banks before the war, and would be all the
better by being kept at home if such should
I lia ,*fo fofo Our niprnhanta and business men I
would have no difficulty in arranging their
exchanges with New York, Baltimore, or
even with Europe, as they had none before
the war. The government issues of greenbacks
would remain in circulation. I have
no doubt of the ability of the government to
maintain resumption upon the present amount
in circulation, or perhaps on a larger amount,
in the progress of the development of our increased
specie paying capacity. The reopening
of State banks would aid resumptioa and
supply the demand for more currency, because
it would be more generally and equitably
distributed than is the case with the National
bank currency."
Varieties of canaries.?The common
canary is known throughout the civilized
world, and is so common as to be cheap in all
bird stores; but many of the varieties are
rare and very expensive. These varieties are
mostly cultivated in England, however, where
the song of the canary is not so much valued e
as its elegant shape or brilliant color. Ger- f
many is the great centre whence the world is g
supplied with singing birds, and in Germany t
the business of raising the birds and getting h
them ready to send abroad, is chiefly carried a
on in the villages among the Hartz moun- c
tains of Hanover. The people there are mi- ?
ners and cattle drovers, but, being poor, al- fi
most every family devotes its spare time to v
rearing canaries, and making the little wood- I
en cages in which they are carried to the dis- v
tant railway or seaport. The houses are small; p
but one corner of the principal room is sepa- n
rated from the rest by a light partition, and h
given to the birds for their own use, where, in tl
l j j xi i?:u
cups, Dozes anu gouru suciib, mcy uunu tuuu ?
nests and hatch their eggs, secure from nil ?
harm. When the breeding season is ovor, 1]
all the young birds are taken to Bremen or c<
Hamburg, to be sent across the ocean to Er gland,
America, or away ronnd to India a;vl J
China. These voyages are made only in the a:
Winter, however, because it was found that in o:
Summer traveling, the birds lost their voice
and plumage ; but that season is so cold and k
stormy that, usually, from a quarter to a half tl
of the cargo perishes before reaching the tl
shore. So many birds are sent, nevertheless, g
that probably 25,000 came to New York alive at
last year from Europe. These are distributed nc
through a large number of bird shops in the n
city, and the deafening chorus which iis kept 6'
up, from dawn till dark, by a hundred or two a
birds singing at the top of their voices in a E
single room, added to the din of a small me- d
nagerie of other animals, is something surpri- si
sing to one the first time he enters.?Ernest *
Ingeraoll, St. Nicholas. *
t)
THE HIDE ABOUND M'CLELLAN. o
[John Eaten Cook in Philadelphia Times.] ^
Stuart set out from his headquarters, east ^
of Richmond, at about moonrise on the night ^
of?I think?the 12th of June, 1862. Beyond
the city he caught up with his column, 01
which consisted of about fifteen hundred 01
horsemen and two pieces of artillery, under
command of Colonels Fitz Hugh Lee, William
H. F. Lee, and \yill T. Martin, of Mississippi,
and the force proceeded northward to ei
the vicinity of Taylorsville, where the men P
went into bivouac. As this sketch aims to
record such incidents as took place on the P'
famous march, I will mention that, tired oat j
as be was, Stuart rodq on the same night to
Hickory Hill, the residence of Col. William 81
Wickham, and fell asleep in his chair while H
he was talking. It was afterwards ascertained
that a Federal scouting party bad passed r<
the house during the night, and Stnart thus w
narrowly escaped capture. They did not 8
8top, however, and the General returned to
the cavalry bivouac, from which he advanced
early in the morning in the direction of Han- 01
over Courthouse. '
There could be very little doubt that a 01
heavy picket, perhaps the enemy in force, I13
would here be encountered, ana this was J?
found to be the fact. Scouts sent m advance H
of the column returned with the report that ~
.i ii l.ij i j t
tne couruiouse was neia uy a squauruu ux ,
Federal cavalry, and Col. Fitz Lee was sent
round to the right to cut them off, while Stu- 11
art charged them in front The charge was
made without delay, and the Southern horse- ,
men swept at a gallop down on the little village,
whose ancient courthouse, ip its grassy
yard, was the scene of Patrick Henry's first V
great speech in the "Parsons' case." The
men uttered shouts as they charged, and the ?
startled Federals?numbering about one hun- 5
dred and fifty?ran hastily to their horses and
retreated at full gallop. Stuarfpassed on in
pursuit without drawing rein in the village,
but the pursued went faster than the pur- .
suers, and were soon out of sight?unmo- .
lested by Fitz Lee, who had been directed the ~
wrong road. The pursuit .was then discontinued,
and Stnart advanced steadily on the ?
road leading to "Old Church," which passed
by a place called Hawe's shop. ^
At* the Tattepotemoi, a sluggish stream a
crossed by a rustic bridge, the enemy was j
met with in some force. The picket at the ^
bridge was swept away at once, but in a field r
on the other side a considerable body of Fed- ^
eral cavalry was seen drawn up in line of bat- a
tie. They were at once charged by Col. Wil- ^
liam H. F. Lee, who was in advance, and a a
sharp engagement followed. It did not last Q
long. The enemy gave -way and retreated ^
rapidly, leaving a number of dead and woun- r(
ded?among the latter Capt Royal, com- ^
mandine, though he was not captured. The l
bloody blanket in which he was wrapped was
found at the headquarters' tent, I was inform- Q
ed. The Confederates lost only one person,
but the loss was serious. This was Capt. La- ^
tane, of the Essex Calvary, who was shot and
killed. His death produced great sadness,
and Stuart, in a general order after the expe- ^
dition, called on his men to "Avenge Latane 1"
The body of the poor fellow was buried after ^
nightfall by friends in the vicinity, two ladies ^
being present, one of whom read the burial ^
service. c
Old Church was the point, it seems, which a
Gen Lee's order directed him to reach, if pos- j.
sible, after which he was to be guided by cir- e"
cumstances. Now "circumstances" were gen- S|
erally regarded in a different light by Stuart tj
than by other men, and the circumstances ri
here, were these: The alarm had been given, ^
no doubt, by the Federal fugitives, and the e]presence
of Southern cavalry near Old Church a(
was known. It was obvious, therefore, that a C(
strong force would probably be sent to cot Sf
them off on their return. What was to be
done ? The Pamunkey could not be crossed ; jr
it was too deep, and no boats were at hand. C1
To attempt to pass around the Federal army, p(
and cross at the Chickahominy below, seem- jt
ed madness; but then the movement would q
be daring, brilliant, and might succeed.
Knowing the country perfectly, and our ex
act situation, I watched btuart's race witn g
interest, curious to ascertain what he was ei
going to do. The first words he uttered, after
musing for a moment, put my doubts en- w
tirely at rest.
"Tell Fitz Lee to come along," he said to a
me; "I am going to move on steadily with ai
ray columir." ei
"Moving on" meant a complete circuit of pi
McClellan's army, with a view to crossing th
below. . st
The order was delivered, and also that to th
Col. Fitz Lee, who sounded "to horse," and ui
followed?the movements of his men some- fij
what hastened, no doubt, by the report that bi
one of the burning tents contained a large 0i
quantity of powder. I rejoined Stuart at the gj
head of the column, and was soon convinced th
that he had fully resolved to ride around the w
Federal army. It was neck or nothing. In hi
twenty-four hours the whole command would es
be dead or captured, or would have escaped, y,
Stuart had plainly determined to take the b?
chances, and was moving steadily toward the hi
York River Railroad, connecting the Federal
army with its base at the "White House"
landing on the Pamunkey. th
Everything was now on the qui vive, as an
attack might take place at any moment either ai
on the front or rear. A laughable incident m
proved that the men were looking for one, er
i .1 - r*, a.-j 1 j r i:.
ana tnat ?man expeuieu 11 wuuju uuiuc uuui hi
the rear, as he sent me to Col. Martin, com- sv
manding there, with the message: in
"Tell him to have his artillery ready and w<
look out for an attack at any moment. of
I was riding back after delivering this or- n<
der when a cry passed along the line: re
"Yankees in the rear!" P
Sabres flashed out, horses wheeled, and d<
then came a burst of laughter?showing that I
the alarm was false. Many, incidents follow- ce
d on the line of march. The people ran
rom their houses, delighted at the sight of
^aj coats in that blue infested region, and
he men gazed with admiring eyes upon a
eautiful girl who hastened up and threw her
rms arouifd the neck of a brother in the
olumn, kissing him and crying with delight
Lnother incident was the capture of a wagon
all of champagne andother/luxuries, on its
ray from the Pamunkey to the quarters of a
federal general, and a keg of whisky, which
ras a part of the cargo, played an important
art In rescuing one of the Confederate cannn
f Ilia Via/i a lint infn a Ivitfnmlpsa mild.
ole of the low grounds and was buried to
tie axle. The horses were lashed and made
iolent efforts to drag it out, but could not sueeed.
At this crisis one of the men, evidentf
of Dutch origin, cried to Lieqt. McGregor,
ommanding the guns:
"Got, lieutenant! the horses can't do it.
tut just put that keg of whisky on the gun
d tell the men they can go into it if tney
The scheme was at once adopted and the
eg mounted on the cannon. At the signal,
ie cannoneers rushed into the mudhole, seized
le gun-carriage and lifted it bodily to firm ?
round. As it mounted and was safe, I prelme
the keg \tas dismounted. I do not relerober,
having ridden on. The alarm was
ow given and wagons were seen hurrying in
eery direction. They were overtaken, rifled
ad set on fire?a fate shared by two or three
'ederal transports on the river, from which a
ense black smoke arose. We were now in
ght of Tups tail's?the railway crossing?
rhere a heavy picket was stationed. This
'as charged at once, and retreated rapidly,
ie officer in command falling into the hands .
f the Confederates. He -had. just filled a
ideous-looking wooden pipe, and was about
> light it, when a Confederate politely re
uested him to surrender it.
"I want to smoke," growled the Federal
of liia
gioauj uioguavwi) | ***.? ?
apture.
"So do I," was the retort
"My pipe is my own property J"
"Oh, what a mistake!" responded the othr,
reaching from the saddle and taking the
ipe, which he placed between his own lips.
The railway crossing was now* in Stuart's
ossession, and, under the quick blows of the
res, the telegraph poles were soon- /ashing '
own. An attempt was also made to hum a?
nail bridge near by, but the timbers were
>o damp. In the midst of all this scene of
ustle, a shrill whistle was heard from the diiction
of the Chickahopiiny; & railway train
as evidently approaching, and it was soon
sen coming around a wooded bend. A loud
rder to halt was given, but the train did not
op. On the contrary, steajn was crowded
a, and it shot by in the midst of a fusilade,
hich, it is said, wounded some of the troops
i the train and killed the engineer. In a
loment it disappeared, and, getting his men
ito column again, Stuart pushed on toward
16 village of Talleysville, directly in the
ederal rear. He afterward told me that the
imptation to attack and destroy the great
spot of stores at the White House was altost
irresistible, but the risk was too great?
od, looking at the situation afterward, with
ill information of the state of affairs, it was
bvious that this movement must Jiave re
ilted in his capture or destruction. He right*
r determined to move without delay in the
irection of the lower fords of Chickahomi*
y, and did bo just as night was coming?
aving first burned a huge wagon camp in a
eld near. They were loaded with grain,
jffee and other stores, all of which were
turned.
The column moved a little past midnight
t>m Talleysrille, and at daylight came in
ght of Chickahominy, near Forge Bridge,
here a sudden, halt took place. The bridge
as destroyed, and it was soon found that the
>rds were entirely impassable. The whole
immantl was apparently caiig^t in a trap,
om which there seemed no possibility of es*
iping. The presence of Stuart was perfectr
well lenown now to Qen. McClellan; to
iscover his whereabouts it was only necessaj
in fact to follow the steps of his fifteen
undred horsemen over the sandy highway,
ad there could be very little doubt that in a
?w hours, at most, the Federal infantry, cav*
Iry and artillery would be upon him and
lake short work of him. As to passing the
ver it seemed wholly impossible. Col. Lee
)de into the stream, but nis horse was swept
own and nearly drowned. He had j ust come
ack, when I joined him and said:
"What do you think of the situation, coloel?"
"Well, captain," he replied, coolly, "I think
e are caught"
And that they were caught was, I am pret
lllA IHUAIO MAtn.
f UCI Ltuiij bUD IJUiJLI1COOIUI1 Ul bUO nuviv vvih
land. The men were sitting or lying on the
round beside their horses, and the bravest
>oked "blue." When I laughed and told
le men not to lose heart, as all "would be
ight," they gazed at me with a stare, which
learly showed me that they regarded me as
lunatio. My expectation of getting off safe7
was based on the conviction that a mount*
d man can always swim his horse across a
;ream of the width of the Chickahominy at
lat point, and my confidence, too, in Stuart's
sources. My chief uneasiness was about
le artillery, but I believed that by hitching
ight horses to each gun and forcing them
cross?even if they had to drown?the pieces
iuld be dragged through in some way, and I
lid as much to Stuart,
"Certainly, certainly I" he exclaimed, twistig
his long beard, as he always did at critiil
moments. He soon after hurried off to a
nint lower down, and I found the men work*
ig there like beavers to construct a bridge.
>ne had formerly stood there, but had been
estroyed, the abutments only remaining. As
le gap to be spanned was not great, however,
tuart resojved to bridge it, and the men hastled
to tear down a barn near by, and bring
te timber on their shoulders. A little skiff
as then floated to the middle of the stream
itween the abutments, where it was held by
rope in the bow tied to a tree trunk above,
id the men standing in the boat raised the
ids of the timbers as they were lowered and
ished them on the opposite.abutment. In
lis work Stuart assisted with his own hands,
anding in the boat and singing. As soon as
le timbers were laid across, planks were put
pon them, and the artillery and cavalry deled
over safely. Stuart followed last, the
-idge was torn up and the column moved
l?they were out of the trap. It was a close
aze. As they disappeared in the foliage qf
* * ii 1 1 *
te morass snors, irom tne opposite osdks
ere heard, and Col. Rush came down with
s "Lancers" in full array. The game had
caped and Col. Rush was forced to return
ithout his prize. When asked, on his way
ick, by a lady, if he had "caught Stuart,
s reply was, the lady informed me:
"No, madam. He has gone in at the back
ior. I only saw his rear guard as it passed
e swamp."
Such is a brief account of the famous "ride
ound McClellan." But for want of space I
ight add a number of incidents?how Pedal
prisoners, as they rolled from their stumbig
mules in mud-hole after mud-hole of the
ramp exclaimed: "How many Chieken-homies
are there in this infernal country ?" how
e were feasted by the hospitable gentlemen
' Charles City; and how Stuart, sparing
sither himself or horseflesh, rode all night to
ach Richmond and make his report to the
resident that the Federal right flank wae unsfended?a
ride in which, looking back now,
can see that I committed an error in not acpting
his invitation to accompany him.