Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, March 09, 1882, Image 1
lewis m. grist, proprietor, j ^tt Jniitpfiiiitnt Jamiij ftetospaptr: Jfor % promotion of fjit political,. Siotial, ^gricnltaal anil Commercial |ntt?sts of Ijit 5ont|. terms--$2.50 a year, in advance.
VOL. 28. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MARCH 9, 1882. Ts~O. IP.
?cighial fuctrn.
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
WHAT SHOULD A MAIDEN BE?
BY DR. KEID, M. A., IX. D., ETC.
From I860 to 1864 Emeritus Professor in South
Carolina, and now of London, England.
DEDICATED TO THE YORKVILLE FEMALE COLLEGE.
What should a maiden be ? Pore as the rill,
Ere it has leftits first home in the hill;
Thinking no evil, suspecting no guile,
Cherishing naught that can harm or defile.
What should a maiden be ? Honest and true,
Giving to God and to neighbor their due;
Modest and merciful, simple and neat,
Clad in the white robe of innocence sweet.
What should a maiden be ? She should be loath
Lightly to give or receive loving troth ;
But when her faith is once plighted, till breath
Leave her, her love should be stronger than death.
What should a maiden be ? Merry, whene'er
Merriment comes with a natural air ;
But let not mirth be an every-day guest?
n..|niniui0 oi?s nrt o mairien the best.
Like a fair lily, sequestered and meek,
She should be sought for, not others should seek;
But, when the wild winds of trouble arise,
" She should be calm and courageous and wise.
Whatshould her words be? Her words should be
few, .
Honest and genuine, tender and true;
Words that o'erflow from a pure heart within,
Guiltless of folly, untainted by sin.
What shouid her dress be ? Not gaudy and vain,
But unaffectedly pretty and plain ;
She should remember these few simple words?
"Fine feathers flourish on foolish young birds."
Where should a maiden be ? Home is the place
Which a fair maid is most fitted to grace;
There should she turn, like a bird to the nest,
There should a maiden be, blessingand blest.
There should she dwell as the handmaid of God,
Aud if He bid her "pass under the rod,"
Let her each murmur repining suppress,
Knowing that He chasteneth that He may bless.
But if earth's blessings each day He renew,
Let hergive glory where glory is due;
Deem every blessing a gift from above,
Given and designed for& purpose of love.
What will her future be? If she become
Matron and mother, may God bless her lioi?e !
God to the matron all blessings will give.
If as God's maiden the young maiden live.
What will her future be? If she should die,
Lightly the earth on her asho9 will lie ;
Softly her body will sleep 'neath the sod,
While her pure spirit is safe with her God.
Jk ?rigiual
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
THE HOUSE ON THE HILL.
BY HERBERT JOHNSON.
CHAPTER XIV.
Sophy had but just retired to her bedroom
that night, when there was a knock at her
door. She opened it, and saw the Captain.
"My dear," he said, rather hurriedly, "excuse
me for disturbing you ; but I knew you
had just come up. May I see you for a little
while ? There's something on my mind I
would like to say to you."
"Yes, sir, of course. "Won't you come in ?
I hope there is nothing wrong," said Sophy,
anxiously.
"No, no ; nothing wrong. I think you had
letter come into my room ; we'll not be overheard
there," said the Captain, glancing toward
a door which communicated with her
mother's apartment. Greatly wondering, and
still a little apprehensive, in spite of his assurance,
Sophy immediately accompanied him,
and they soon found themselves closeted alone.
"Now, my dear," said the Captain, when
they were seated?and she could perceive from
his manner that he was considerably moved?
"this thing that I want to speak about, has
been on my mind a good while, and it's a matter
that affects me in no small degree. It's a
matter, my child, that concerns your welfare;
and not only yours, but the welfare of others,
which you have at heart."
A suspicion of what he meant dawned instantly
on her mind ; but she said nothing.
"Perhaps," he went on, "you don't know
that I am in the secret of the state of affairs;
and perhaps, too, you will think that I have no
right to intermeddle in a matter over which I
can have no control. But, Sophy, I love you
as dearly as if you were my own child. You
believe that, don't you ?"
She made an affirmative motion with her
head.
"And you'll forgive the old man if he says
anything that isn't welcome to you. Now, my
dear, Mr. Erskine has been talking to me tonight,
and I feel very sorry for him?very sorry.
I would gladly help him if I could."
"Did he ask you to help him ?" inquired Sophy,
whose cheeks were now crimson.
"He did not. In fact, he would have
thought it useless. I can see that he has given
up all hope. He did say to me that if matters
had to continue thus he would sell his
place and go away from our neighborhood.
'Captain,' he said, 'I'm no coward, but in
this one thing I am weaker than I thought. I
cannot look upon her face day after day and
be unmoved. I know I shall break down again
in my resolution, and grieve her gentle heart
as I did once before, and that isjustwhatl
promised her not to do. Bather than break
my promise, I must leave you all. 1 had hoped
that Fate had arranged differently for me, and
that my wanderings were over ; but I suppose
I must take them up again. Her happiness
and peace of mind are far dearer to me than
my own.' As far as I can recollect, those were
almost his exact words. It was certainly the
sense of what he said."
"Oh, Captain Russell!" she exclaimed, "I
am verv unhannv. How can I do as he wishes
me to V"
''My dear,'' said the Captain, tremulously,
"you know how all my dearest hopes were centered
on you and my poor boy ; how I looked
forward to your marriage as the most joyful
event of my life. You know how I watched
you two growing up together; how you, as
well as he, have always been the light and joy
of my home. Desolate, indeed, has been that
home, since he was taken from me ! Xext to
him I have always loved you, and your happiness
is now my dearest object. Sophy, you
are too young to let this one grief blight your
whole life. If any one alive ought to want
you to keep Harry's memory sacred, it is me ;
but I am not willing to see you carry a heavy
heart to your grave. My dear child, why
cau't you marry Mr. Krskine V He is a good
man ; he loves you with his whole heart. I
am sure he could make you happy."
Sophy still wept; but she listened in silence.
A sort of weary, hopeless feeling had taken
possession of her. She felt too weak to resist
the importunities which seemed to assail her on
all sides. Every body?even Harry's own uncle,
the one who had loved him most of every
one in the world, except herself?was against
her.
"Another thing," the Captain went on,
more hurriedly, "and it is in this, Sophy, that
0
! I am a little afraid of vexiug you, but still I
1 must speak v hat is in my heart. Mr. Erskine
; has fortune. God forbid that I would have
! you marry him from mercenary motives ; but
j with your mother depending upon you for supJ
port, and you so unable to support her, do you
j think it right to refuse the means of placing
her, as well as yourself, out of the reach of poverty
for the rest of your lives ?"
"He would be the last person to want me to
marry him for that reason," said Sophy.
"Neither would I want you to, for that
reason alone. But he is in every way worthy of
your esteem. As his wife, you would certainly
be, to say the least, happier than you are now.
And it is certainly your duty to consider your
mother ; to afford her all the assistance that
you can. Mr. Erskine has already done much
for you both--"
"Yes, and I feel it so keenly?so much more
keenly than any one can believe," cried Sophy,
passionately. "It is that which makes me
wretched; to think that we are indebted to
! him for so much, and cannot repay him."
"But it ne<xl not make you wretched; and
you can repay him amply by giving him your
heart."
"My heart! it would be a worthless gift.
Ought I to marry him?good, noble, generous
as he is?without love ? Could I bestow on
liim so i>ooi% so dead a tiling as an empty
heart ?"
"My child, it cannot be empty. You esteem
him; you can at least give him a true
and warm regard. He will be content with
this, trusting to the future to awaken a still
warmer feeling within you."
"It would be a useless hope."
"So you say and believe now. But even
admitting this?suppose he is willing and
eager to take you just as you are?suppose
that it would be his joy to have you always
near him, to cherish and protect you, can you
not grant him this boon, in return for his
great love, his desire to make you happy V"
"And forget all my past ?"
"Your past, dear as it is, has been a brief
one. The gieater part of your life is before
you. For the sake of others, don't cling to
your sorrow, and feject all chance of a better
and brighter day."
Sophy sat with her head bent upon her
hands. Contrary motives were struggling at
her heart, tearing it to pieces. Contending
voices were whispering to her to do this and
that, utterly bewildering her. After all, was
she selfish ? Was she wrong to cherish a mere
memory, if in so doing she was clouding the
existence of everybody around her ? It was
quite true that her marriage with Mr. Erskine
would contribute in every sense to her
mother's welfare. And she well knew that in
this way alone could she repay him for all
his unseltish kindness, his forbearance, his
thoughfulness, which had far outweighed mere
material benefits, numerous as these last had
been. Would it be doing him an injustice to
marry him, her feelings being as thoroughly
known to him as they were ? If he was willing
to take her as she was, why, then?perhaps?
she ought to sacrifice herself to duty. Perhaps
she would not live very long. She had
ofteu fancied that she would die young, and
-a-i-i 1.1 ?
in tnat case nouuug wuuiu uiaiLci uiuvu,
It would be u consolation to know that she
had done what she could for the happiness of
others.
And then Harry's image came before her,
and all the precious memories connected with
it, and her heart cried out, "I cannot! oh, I
cannot do it!"
The Captain waited a good while ; then as
she did not speak, he came to her where she
sat, and laid his hands, as if in blessing, upon
her bowed head.
"My child, think this matter over in solitude.
I have said all that I wish?all that I
ought to say. If I have erred in saying it,
pardon me. I meant it only for your good.
But don't rashly or hastily decide. Think
well, ere you condemn a good true heart to
unhappiness and disappointment; ere you ruin
the hopes of others, and spoil your own future.
Come, you must not sit up any longer; but
tell me before you go that you are not angry
with me for my plain speaking."
"I am not angry ; I could not be angry with
you," said Sophy, gently taking one of his
brown, wrinkled hands between her own, and
kissing it. Her voice, though she spoke with
sweetness, had a pathetic and dreary tone.
Such trouble as hem seemed very hard to bear.
When she had returned to ner own room auu
found herself alone, she fell on her knees.
"Makeme do right," she prayed ; "guide me,
help me act for others, and put my selfishness
aside." All the thoughts and arguments which
had already assailed her seemed to return continually
with new force to her mind. Her
whole night was passed in this weary conflict,
which gave her no peace.
At last her mind was made up, and fearful
lest any delay might weaken the decision which
had cost her so much, she sat down and wrote
this note to the Captain:
"My Dkau, Kind Fiiiexd : I have been
thinking, ever since 1 left you, over our conversation,
and at last it seems to me that there is
but one thing to do. If Mr. Erskine still
wishes me to do as you say, knowing everything,
I will no longer refuse. You can arrange
it in any way that you like. I know
that you will not compromise me. I would
not hurt his feelings for the world. Yours,
"So i'll y."
This note she carried, at daybreak, to the
Captain's door, and slipped it underneath,
where he could not fail to see it; then return
ed to rest her aching head upon her pillow,
and try to snatch a little repose before again
appearing in the presence of others.
She greatly dreaded meeting Mr. Erskine.
| When she went to breakfast, however, she
I found that he was not there. Some one said
he had gone out for an early walk, having
taken some coffee before he went.
The following day was the one which had
been appointed for their return home, and she
busied herself during this forenoon in partially
packing her own and her mother's trunk ;
not that there was any necessity for her doing
this so soon, but because she felt the need of
some occupation in order to keep her mind
composed. She did not go down to lunch ; but
in the afternoon, believing that Mr. Erskine
was out, she went into the garden to get some
slips, which the landlady had promised to let
her carry home. She had just finished her
task, and was about to return to the house,
when she saw him approaching her from a distance.
Her first impulse was to retreat; but |
! she reflected that this would be foolish, and !
would only delay the evil moment, which had j
better lie got over at once.
So she stood steadily looking at her slips, i
andassorting them into little separate bundles,
until he came close to her side.
"Sophy." His voice was very low, and his
manner not more eager than usual; but something
in his tone made her know that lie had
heard.
"Sophy, Captain llussell has been speaking
to me. 1 did not ask him to be my mediator ;
but 1 find that he has done so unasked, lie
bade me come to you?otherwise, believe me,
I should not have importuned you again. Is
it, indeed, true that the boon I have so long
coveted in vain is really to be mine ?"
lie took her passive hand. Iler heart beat
violently; it was all she could do to keep from
bursting into tears.
"I fear I distress you," he went on, hurriedly.
"I?I dreaded this. But don't, for my
sake, make a sacrifice too great for your
strength?one which you may afterwards repent?"
His own voice failed him. The hand that j
clasped here trembled like a leaf. It needed
all the mail's resolution to sustain him in that
supreme moment of doubt, of dread. His
weakness gave her strength.
"Mr. Erskine," she said, with sudden calmness,
looking up and fully meeting his gaze,
"Captain Russell told you quite right. I am
willing to?to do what you wish."
"Sophy, tell me, from your soul?is this
compulsion ?"
"It is not compulsion. Who is there to
compel me V"
"Well; I will ask no more questions." He
breathed a great, heavy sigh, long-drawn from
the depths of his heart, a sigh of intense, unspeakable
relief, of gladness too profound for
words. UI can only thank God for the inestimable
blessing he has vouchsafed me, and
ask His purest blessings on your head. My
love ; my life !?"
He checked himself abruptly, as if fearing
to offend her by any open expressions of tenderness
; and drawing her hand through his
arm, begged her to walk a little way with him
into a more retired part of the garden-. By degrees
he overcame his agitation sulliciently to
talk to her in a quiet, gentle strain. He dwelt
only on such points as he thought he could*
speak of without distressing her ; said little of
his own feelings, and, in what he did say, !
made it quite evident that he understood exactly
the footing on which she had accepted
him, and that while he would make it the
aim of his life to merit her love, he would require
from her nothing more than she was
willing to accord. The conversation soothed
and trauquilized her. She felt him to be in
every way worthy of her truest regard, and
this conviction, while it could not assure her
happiness, gave her at least the certainty of a
safe and honored position as his wife?a posi- :
tion 111 which she could nna conxeuxmeux ami
repose. ,
Mrs. May, when her daughter returned to ]
the house, met her with a warmth that reveal- ]
ed her knowledge of the new aspect of affairs. 1
She judged wisely in not saying too much on (
the subject. Indeed, Sophy felt that she could (
not have borne a prolonged discussion of it at ;
that time. She had made the sacrifice, and i
was willing to abide by her resolve ; but she 1
could not realize fully what was before her. ;
She seemed to be acting in a dream.
[to be continued.! (
gpsfdhtucims Reading.
T ROMANCE 0FTHEWAR7 <
The Attempt to Form a North-Westeru Confederacy.
0
Col. T. A. Burr, a well-know Confederate ]
officer, prints in the Philadelphia Times an .
account of the attempt to release the 20,000 :
Confederate prisoners confined in Chicago, J
Columbus and Sandusky in 1804, and to inau- j
gurate a Northwestern Confederacy. Major- ;
C. II. Cole, of the Fifth Tennessee Regiment, (
was a leading spirit in the plot. lie received
his instructions in Richmond, and reported to ;
the Hon. Jacob Thompson, then in Canada.
Jacob assigned him to the command of the
Department of the Ohio, with headquarters at (
Sandusky.
At Ciimp Douglas, near Chicago, there were
about 8,000 Confederate prisioners, at Camp
Chase, near Columbus, Ohio, about 8,000 more, 1
and at Cam]) Morton, near Indianapolis, about 1
4,000.* On Johnson's Island, in Sandusky
Bay, there were about 3,200 Confederate officers
confined. The object was to simulta
neously release all these prisoners and officer
the men in the other three camps with
the officers on Johnson's Island. With this
force and the active aid of Northern sympa'
' * *1 ? A1. /> \TAi?r?
tnizers It WHS tUOUgllt nine ?i Xiuiumcovuu
Confederacy was not impossible. Major Tom
Ilinds, now Judge at Bowling Green, Ky., 1
had the State of Illinois, with his headquar- !
ters at Chicago. Major Castleman had Indiana,
with his headquarters at Centralia. At 1
all these places Northern allies were working
in conjunction. 1
The time selected in making the assault 1
uj)on these camps was to be gauged byGen.
Early's attack upon Washington, so as '
to make it impossible for any of the troops to
be sent North to reinforce the limited number
of Federal soldiers then in the Northwest.
The Northwest was selected as the field of ope- !
rations because there was a great rebellion there
against conscriptions, and the people were gen- ;
erally tired of the war.
It was at first intended to strike the blow 1
while the Democratic National Convention :
was in session in Chicago. Four thousand
Confederate soldiers and sympathizers were in .
Chicago at that time ready for the work.
Early's delay in striking Washington caused
a postponement. Among the Northern allies
Col. Burr places Brick Pomeroy. lie asserts' 1
on the authority of Major Cole that Jacob
Thompson gave Pomeroy money to establish
the La Crosse Democrat.
On Major Cole's assigment to command at
Sandusky he was instructed to capture the 1
United States man-of-war Michigan. She was
flip milv jirined vessel on the lakes, and with
her in their power the Confederates felt assured
of success. Cole went to Erie, where 1
the Michigan was lying before she went up as
guardship to the prisoners 011 Johnson's Island.
Through friends he made the acquaintance
of the officers, entertained them handsomely
and was invited to the ship, so that
when it came to Sandusky he was always a
welcome guest, lie established himself in
Sandusky as an oil speculator, organized the
Mount Ilope Oil Company, and located a well
near Titusville, Pa. Judge Fillmore of Buffalo,
was elected president, and Cole was elected
secretary. This gave him a business standing,
and his position as secretary and practical
business manager of the company readily accounted
for the travel it was necessary for
him to do in furtherance of his military duty.
It also explained the abundance of money
he had and his willingness to spend it.
He received from Mr. Thompson S<)0,000 in
gold, a portion of which was deposited in the
bank at Sandusky to his credit. There was
' <- 1 * Dlu'l.wl/iliilii.l I
UISO till tlCUUUllb ill x iiiitiu^Apincv Hivu
Drexel & Co., in tlie name of John Bell. He
also had an account with Belmont in New
York. The Confederacy had plenty of means
in its secret service fund. Cole says that
there was something like $80,000,000 altogether
to the credit of the Confederate commissioner
and his colleague. Most of it was, he believes,
deposited in the bank at Toronto. He
turned his attrition to cultivating the acquaintance
of the officers of the steamer Michiijdit,
and till military ollieers stationed at Sandusky,
or who came there, as a prequisite to
success in releasing the Confederate prisoners.
He wined and dined the officers continually,
and was on excellent footing with them. lie
soon found it necessary to have men in his
employ on board the MU-hiquii and also on
Johnson's Island. As the United States Government
wanted both seamen and soldiers,
two Confederates were enlisted as seamen and
| sent aboard the Micltiyun. Ten more were
| enlisted as soldiers, and went on duty as memliers
of the regiment doing duty on Johnson's
Island. Besides Cole's social relations with
the ollieers, he was in a position to be fully
posted as to what was going 011, both 011 the
vessel and 011 the island. The men enlisted
as Federal soldiers were of infinite value in
communicating with the Confederate officers
and in getting arms to them. Cole tells the
following incident:
Not long before our plans were completed
Mr. Thompson at one of our conferences in
Canada, said he should like to visit and look
over the steamer Michigan before we attacked
her, and also personally inspect the details of
my plans upon the ground.
"If you think it safe, Mr. Thompson, I
should be exceedingly glad to have you do so,"
I said.
lie did not reply, and'we parted without my
knowing what his intentions were. A few
days after, while sitting in my room at the
West House, Sandusky, the servant came up
and said: "Your aunt is in the parlor, and
would like to see you." mi*
I told Miss Annie Davis to go down and invite
her up. Of course, I knew it was not my
aunt, but I was never taken by surprise at
anything, and was always on my guard. I
supposed possibly it was a female courier with
orders or information.
Miss Davis went down to the parlor, and in
a moment returned with an elderlylady, nicely
dressed in a style that well became her age.
When the veil was removed there stood Jake
Thompson. I was wholly taken aback, as the
disguise was perfect and the assumption of the
character easy and graceful.
I sent word to the Michigan that I had a
lady relative who had stopped over a train
to visit what she had never seen, a man'
' " ' T VI Un,.
oi-war, una mac i snuuiu ime tu unn^ nu
aboard. They returned a cordial invitation,
and that afternoon Mr. Thompson and I went
out to the ship. Mr. Thompson went all over,
and in a squeaky voice put such questions
about her construction and arrangement as a
rural female of well-advanced years and small
opportunities for gleaning information would
be likely to propound. No one suspected him,
and the officers were exceedingly polite to the
one they afterwards spoke of as "my country
aunt."
After Thompson's visit to the Michigan
Cole spent three weeks in Philadelphia recruiting.
lie established his headquarters at
Twelfth and Chestnut streets, in the Girard
building or old Cadwallader House. He also
had another rendezvous on Fifth street between
Chestnut and Walnut, where a man
was ostensably recruiting an artillery company
for the United States service. It was here
that most of the men for the capture of the
Michigan were hired. They were paid ?40 a
month and 'expenses. The money was drawn
from Drexel's Bank to meet the current expenses
of these agencies and to pay the men.
The plan fully matured, it was decided to
make the attack on Monday, September 19,
L8<)4. The intention was the moment the
Michigan was captured and the Confederate
officers released, to cut all the telegraph wires
leading out of Sandusky, seize a railroad-train,
run dawn to Columbus, assist in releasing the
prisoners, then run back to Sandusky and establish
the temporary headquarters of the
Confederate Department of the Northwest.
Ceii. Trimble, of Maryland, who was the
ranking Confederate officer confined 011 Johnson's
Island, was to be made Commander-inChief,
and Cole had in his pocket a commission
from the Confederate Government appointing
him to that position the moment he
was released. Cole was supplied with other
commissions in blank, all properly signed and
attested, to give an omer men wao eunaiou m
the Confederate army for this service. This
was done to make them regular Confederate
3oldiers, so that their services would be legitimate
acts of warfare as long as they obeyed
orders.
Major Hinds, in command at Chicago, and
Major Castleman, in command at Centralia,
were to attack Camp Douglas and Camp Morton
simultaneously with Cole's attack upon
Johnson's Island. Major Hinds was also
charged with the duty of capturing one of the
iron steamers plying between Grand Haven,
Mich., and Milwaukie, Wis. Through some
misunderstanding none of the others made the
attack, although Cole telegraphed before leaving
Detroit, 011 the morning of the 19th, to
Charley Walsh, a citizen of Chicago, who was
Major Hinds' assistant, and isnow street commissioner
of that city, as follows :
Detroit, Sept. 19, 18G4.
Close out all the stock in the Mount Hope
Oil Company before 3 o'clock to-day. Be
prompt. C. H. Cole.
This meant that the attack would be made
011 the Michigan at 5 o'clock that evening.
Cole left Sandusky for Detroit on Saturday,
with all arrangements perfected. He had previously
determined to capture the Philo Parsons,
a vessel plying in the lake trade for service
in translating our troops. The plan was
to go aboard of hermit Detroit and the men who
were to assist in her capture were to get 011 at
the various points at which she touched 011
the Canadian shore.
Cole went on board the Parsons at 4 P.-M.,
of the 18th, and spent most of his time with
Capt. Atwood, her commander. He had made
his acquaintance some time before, and frequently
came over on his vessel. She left her
wharf 011 the morning of the 19th, and touched
at her various stopping places on the Canada
side of the Detroit River. At Windsor and
Maiden Cole's men got on board. lie was in
the pilot-house with Capt. Atwood when the
boat touched at both places, so that lie could
note the men as they came on board, and be
where they could see him. At Maiden, Atwood,
observing the unusual number of seedylooking
men getting aboard, said : "IIow many
skedaddlers are coming on this morning ?
These fellows are all well off. They ran out of
the United States to escape the draft, and are
now returning. They look hard, but all of
them have means, and are men of position."
"Yes, poor fellows," Cole replied, "they
have had a hard time."
J. Yates Beale, Cole's second officer, was in
readiness for the work. When they left Maiden
Cole gave a signal to assign the men to
their position. lie did so. A fine engineer,
well armed, was placed near the engine, and
one of the men well equipped for the work appointed
to every important place on the boat.
Cole himself preferred to deal with the captain.
When Beale had everything in readiness Cole
gave the signal and clapped his revolver to
Capt. Atwood's head, and said : "Captain, you
are my prisoner."
"What's tile matter, Cole ?" he asked, in
great astonishment.
"You are my prisoner. I take possession of
this ship in the name of the Confederate States
Government. Go below.''
The arrest of the Captain was followed by
the capture of the men by other soldiers.
They were sent below and the hatches put
down. The passengers were assured that they
should not be molested. The stars and bars
were run up, with the announcement: "This
flag is a guarantee of protection to women and
children." This assurance was sacredly kept,
although it cost some effort. The regular
Confederate soldiers were perfect gentlemen,
but some of those hired from Philadelphia,
Yew York, and other cities were not. It was
necessary to put some of them overboard to
make good the promise given when the Confederate
flag was hoisted.
About 12.30 the Parsons caught the Island
Queen unloading freight at Put-iu-Bay Island.
She carried a large number of passengers,
among them 300 unarmed soldiers going to
Cleveland to get mustered out. The Parson
ran alongside of her, made fast, and captured
her. The two steamers then went to Fighting
Island, where the passengers were put ashore.
There were no possible means of escape, and
therefore no danger that they would give warning.
The steamers then ran toward the Michifjun,
which lay in sight.
Cole left the Parsons in a small boat, and
' ? ^1- If.. I.J TTio .xl.ir*
rowed directly to uic imviuyini. ?no picm
was to capture the ship by strategy. Before
going to Detroit he had arranged to give the
oilicers an entertainment on board that eveuing
at 5 o'clock, and had sent the wine and
other requisites to the vessel before he left
Sandusky. Therefore his coming on board
that day excited no suspicion. The men selected
to make the capture were to come out
from the shore in small boats, ostensibly fishing,
and surround the Michigan. When Cole
went aboard they were to draw nearer to the
ship. At a given signal from him they were
to board her, put down the hatches, and the
vessel would be won without firing a gun.
Everything worked like a charm. On the
verge of success Cole delayed giving the signal
a moment too long. He was himself captured,
instead of capturing the Michigan. lie
was in the wardroom drinking wine with the
officers, and was just making an excuse to go
on deck to give the signal when an officer from
Johnson's Island approached him, saying :
"Capt. Cole, you .are my prisoner."
"Captain of what ?" he asked, with a laugh,
"Certainly no man will accuse me of being a
soldier."
"No," replied the officer, "but here is a
telegram saying you are a Confederate spy,
and are in a conspiracy to capture .Tohuson's
Island. It orders your arrest. We must at
least take you into custody."
"Oh, that's all right," Cole answered, although
he felt that it was all up with him.
"Sergeant, search him !" ordered the officer.
The sergeant began his work, and almost
the first thing he found was a commission
from the Confederate Government. That was
enough. Cole was put under arrest and closely
guarded.
A Col. Johnson, of Kentucky, had betrayed
him. He dropped a paper containing the information
of his purposes upon the wharf just
as they were leaving Maiden on the morning
of the 19tlr of September. It was picked up
and the facts communicated to the provost
marshal at Detroit. He telegraphed to the
officers of the steamer Michigan, but the dispatch
was by accident delivered to the commanding
officer on Johnson's Island. It was
merely by chance that the message reached
the boat in time to save her from capture and
to upset Cole's plans.
On his arrest Cole was asked who were his
accomplices. There they were' all around
the vessel and still unknown. Quick sis a
Jaim'ooJ a nlon fn QOVa fltOTlrt TT P
11(1311 uc UCVloeii a piau i/u uuw ?UvU. ?
named twelve of the most prominent citizens
of Sandusky as his co-conspirators, knowingthat
they would be at once arrested. He felt
assured that his female accomplice in the city,
who was watching the bay for the signal of
success, would be warned of his capture, and
alarm the men in the boats. He was not mistaken.
The first man arrested was Mr. West,
who kept the hotel where he stopped. Annie
Davis knew he luid failed the moment it occurred.
Quickly slipping from the hotel, she
took a small boat, rowed and gave the alarm
to the men in the fishing boats, and they to
the Parson and Queen. Beale scuttled the
Queen and sunk her in sight of the Michigan,
and running the rarsons over to the Canada
shore, sunk her, too. Every man but Cole
escapkl. Annie Davis also got away, but she
was captured a day or two after, when she
came back to bring notice from the Confeder
ate Government that they would hold two
officers as a ransom for Cole, and would execute
them if he was dealt with in any other (
way than as a Confederate soldier engaged in ,
legitimate warfare.
Johnson cut his throat at the barracks in ]
Cincinnati while being held as a witness for
the Federal Government against Cole. ,
After Cole's arrest he was confined on the (
Michigan until after Gens. Dix, Heintzelman .
and Hitchcock visited the* vessel to make an \
investigation. They came on board on a bright
September day. It was thought that i
the Knights of the Golden Circle were in the ]
plot, and they were in search of evidence. (
They asked for Cole. 1
Cole says that he was quietly smoking a ci- j
gar when the officer came below to escort him 1
on deck. In going forward he knew that he had ]
to pass directly over the magazine. He pull- ]
ed vigorously at his cigar to get it well light- ;
ed, then taking it from his mouth he held it ]
by his side, and in passing dropped it into the .
1,111 * ' * ?fl\n monfO'TlnO 1
lime ilir-liOlH WIIICU upeueu mw mic uinjjiuiuv, I
He, therefore, reached the deck, expecting
that every moment the powder would explode
and that "the ship and all 011 board would be <
scattered to the four winds. The fire in the <
cigar, however, died away without reaching the
powder. The three Generals heard his ]
story, and Heintzelman, 011 learning of the ^
trick played on the twelve citizens of Sandus- (
ky, thundered out, "Capt. Ciirter, why in
thunder didn't you hang that inan to the ,
yard-arm ?" I
The records of the War Department show j
that he was tried in Cincinnati by military j
court, of which Gen. Heintzelman was presi- ,
dent, and convicted of the charge of piracy and J
of being a spy. He was sentenced to be hung
011 the 16th of February, 1865, on Johnson's
Island, the point against which he had directed
his best efforts as a Confederate officer, j
He made two desperate attempts to escai>e
while confined on Johnson's Island, and it was J
finally decided to remove him to Fort LaFay- j
ette. Legal proceedings had delayed his execution,
and a petition gotten up by the ladies ]
of northern Ohio, among whom were the niece j
of ex-Secretary Columbus Delano, and the
daughter of Gen. M. D. Leggett, since com- ,
missioner of patents, softened the public feel- \
ing. The two ladies named were passengers ,
on the Island Queen, when Cole captured her, 1
and were not only protected but shown perfect j
courtesy by him and his officers. These inllu- 1
ences combined, with the appeal of powerful ]
friends of tl?e officers held in Richmond as |
hostages for him, secured a commutation of ,
his sentence to imprisonment for life at the
Dry Tortugas.
Before this, however, Cole was removed to :
Fort LaFayette. John Y. Beale endeavored ]
to rescue liim while on the way to the fort.
They tried to wreck the train which he had J
taken 011 the Lake Shore Road, but they wreck- }
ed the wrong train. Beale was captured, tried, j
sentenced to be hanged, and suffered the death ]
penalty on Governor's Island ; while, as the se- .
quel shows, his friend, first sentenced to death,
and for whom he gave his life, escaped all punishment.
It is claimed by those who profess to know, ]
that the execution of Beale caused the assassi- 1
nation of Abraham Lincoln. J. Y. Beale was 1
from Jefferson county, West Virginia, but a 1
short distance above Washington, where many 1
of his relatives now live. He was an intimate 1
friend of John Wilkes Booth. When Beale j
was sentenced to death, Booth made a power- '
ful attempt to save his life. He enlisted all 1
the eminent men he possibly could to aid him I
in his efforts, but there seemed no hope of sue- 1
cess. As a bust resort, he begged his influen- i
tial friends to secure him an audience with j
President Lincoln. Quite a number of them 1
consented to do so, among whom was the late 1
Colonel John W. Forney. The audience was i
granted a short time before Beale was to be j
hung, and Booth made a plea for his life which 1
moved Mr. Lincoln to tears. The good-heart- 1
ed President would, doubtless have commuted 1
Beale's sentence after the occurrence of that ]
night, but Secretary Stanton said: "There j
lias been too much leniency in dealing with !
these fellows. Cole's sentence has been com- .
muted. The law ought to take its course 011 1
Beale's case." It did, and Beale was hung. ]
Booth's failure to save the life of his friend is 1
said to have so preyed upon his mind that it 1
gradually worked him up to the point of assas- 1
sinating the President. 1
Cole remained in prison at Fort LaFayette, 1
and after making one ineffectual attempt to *
escajie, was, 011 the 10th day of February, 1805, '
brought out of prison 011 a writ of habeas cor- j
pus, issued by the District Courtof New York, j
at the instance of Jake Thompson and other <
Confederate leaders. lie escaped to Canada ]
and thence to Mexico, where he led a life of ]
i3 11..
adventure under Maxmnnan. ne was mmiiy j
pardoned by the President, and returned to the
United States with several prominent Confederates
who were in Mexico for a time after the ]
war, waiting Executive clemency. lie is now ,
a citizen of Texas, largely interested in the de- <
velopment of the railroad system in that State, j
The Widow's Touched-it Piiotookaph. i
A story is related for a fact of a Montreal :
widow, which in its details is quite as strange ;
as any novelist's fantasy. An English gentle- 1
man in some manner became acquainted by <
letter with a family of ladies?sisters?resi- 1
dent in Montreal. Being a gentleman who j
had retired from his profession, the pos- j
sessor of an ample income, he had little to do j
save enjoy life, and his corresjiondence went I
on for some time with the ladies. At length i
he asked for photographs of the sisters. One !
of the latter, an able correspondent, was a ]
widow over forty. She did not like the pros- ;
l>ect of holding the mirror up to nature and i
revealing her real features on a photograph i
i card?the more esjiecially as there was a chance <
of getting four thousand pounds a year and ]
an elderly husband. The photographer's art 1
was employed, and the widow of forty-five i
was transformed into a widow of twenty. 1
Time passed, and doubtless to the surprise of i
the other sisters, the widow w&s chosen by 1
letter. She was asked to hasten to England j
aud be married. This she did. Upon her arrival,
however, the relatives of the gentleman
refused to recognize in her the features of the
picture. The gentleman had fallen ill, and
the widow blamed tkat news for her altered
features. Still the relatives and the gentleman
were obdurate. In a few days he died.
The widow now threatened proceedings, and
the relatives, believing that she had a claim,
offered to settle with her for a thousand
pounds. This was agreed to, and the widow
came back richer by that amount than when
she started. But now she believes she has a
claim, and despite the wry faces and objections
of many relatives, she insists on pushing
her claim. A lawyer will, it is said, leave for
England to push the matter.
CHARACTER AND CREDIT.
"VVe often hear young men who have small
means, dolefully contrasting their lot with
that of rich men's sons. Yet the longer we
live, the more we are convinced that the old
merchant was right, who said to us when we
began life, "Industry, my lad, is better than
ingots of gold, and character more valuable
than credit." We could furnish, if need were,
from our own experience, a score of illustrations
to prove the truth of his remark. In
all branches of business, in all avocations,
character, in the long run, is the best capital.
Says Poor Richard : The sound of your hammer
at five in the morning, or nine at night,
1.?.3 l?im flocvuiv mnnfho
Ut?<iJLll Uy (% UlCUlVUljlUaxvco iiuii vauj oiawvuvuw
longer ; but if he sees you at a billiard table,
or hears your voice at a tavern when you
should be at work, he seuds for his money the
next day.
"What is true of the young mechanic is true
also of the young merchant, or the young lawyer.
Old and sagacious firms will not long
continue to give credit for thousands of dollars
when they see the purchaser, if a young
man, driving fast horses or hanging around
drinking saloons. Clients will not entrust
their cases to those advocates, however, brilliant,
who frequent the card table, the wine
party or the race course. It is better in beginning
life, to secure a reputation for industry
and probity, than to own houses and lands,
if with them you have no chamcter.
A facility of obtaining credit at the outset
is often an injury instead of a benefit. It has
almost passed into a proverb, in consequence,
that the sons of rich men never make good
business men. To succeed in life we must
learn the value of money. But a superfluity
of means at the outset is nearly a certain
method of rendering us insensible to its value.
No man ever grew rich who had not
learned and practiced the adage, "if you take
care of the pennies the dollars will take care
of themselves." Knowledge of men, self-discipline,
a thprough mastery of our pursuit,
and other qualifications, which all persons of
experience look for, are necessary to give the
world security that a young man is of the right
metal. Capital may be lost, but character
never. Credit once gone, the man without
cliaracter falls. But he who has earned a reputation
for capacity, integrity and economy, even
if he loses his capital, retains his character, re
tains his credit, and rises triumphant over
bankruptcy itself. A man with character can
never be ruined. It is the first thing that a
young man should seek to secure ; and it may
be had by every one who desires it in earnest.
A poor boy with character is more fortunate
by far than a rich man's sons without it.
The King and the Miller.?Near Sans
Souci, the favorite residence of Frederick the
brreat, there was a mill which much interfered
with the view from the palace. One day the
king sent to inquire what the owner would
take for the mill; and the unexpected answer
came back that the owner would not sell it
for any money. The king, much incensed,
gave orders that the mill should be pulled
down. The miller made no resistance, but
folding his aims, quietly remarked, "The
king may do this, but there are laws in Prussia."
And he took legal proceedings, theresuit
of which was that the king had to rebuild
the mill and pay a good sum of money beside
in compensation. Although his majesty was
much chagrined at this end of the matter, he
put the best face he could upon it, and'turning
to his courtiers he remarked, "I am glad
to see that there are just laws and upright
judges in mykingdom."
A sequel to this incident occurred about
forty years ago. A descendent of the miller
of whom we have just been speaking had come
into possession of the mill. After having
struggled for several years against ever increasing
poverty, and being at length quite
unable to keep up with his business, he wrote
to the king of Prussia, reminding him of the
Incident we have just related, and stating
that, if his majesty felt so disposed, he should
be very thankful in his present difficulty to
jell the mill. The king wrote the following
reply with his own hand:
uir" 4 T> VurniTim-D ?T nannnf. allow
ilLI i/AAIV a w ..
you to sell the mill. It must always be in
your possession as long as one member of your
family exists, for it belongs to the history of
Prussia. I regret however to hear that you
ire in such stringent circumstances, and therefore
send you herewith six thousand dollars,
in the hope that it may be of some service in
restoring your fortunes. Consider me your
iffectionate neighbor,
Frederick William."
?
The Lion's Pet.?The late Henry Moorliouse
was fond of relating an incident that
beautifully illustrates a precious truth. When
tie was a boy there came to his native city <1
jircus with its attending menagerie. In the
motley crowd which gathers about such exhibitions,
there was a man whose little dog had
iust been beaten in a fight with another dog.
The man, in a fit of senseless rage, seized the
bleeding and sufferiugbrute, and hurrying into
the circus tent, roughly thrust him through
the bars of the lion's cage, expecting of course,
to see him devoured in a moment. The dog
also seemed to know his danger, and crouched
upon the lloor in manifest terror. The lion
fixed his gaze upon him, but did not stir; and
at last the dog, gathering hope, crawled slowly
toward the monarch of the forest, and looked
up into his face as if with mute supplication
for mercy. To^he surprise of the spectators,
the king of beasts, who could have crushed
tiim with a single stroke, gently drew the helpless
creature to his side, and then raised his
lordly neck above him like a wall of protection.
Meanwhile, the owner of the dog had recovered
from his silly anger, and demanded his
property. "You put him in; go to the cage
and get him," was the quiet reply of the keeper.
The man drew near and called the dog,
but there was no response, for the once obe1
A oc lio llil/l fAnnU M hotfpr
I1IC11L SCI VUlll rtUlCU no IX lie 1KVU ivuuu (? wvvvv*
master, and was satisfied with the change.
The old master called again and again, and
whistled and coaxed in vain, and at length began
to scold and threaten ; but the ominous
growl of the lion, and the Hash of his darning
eyes, sent back the human brute in fright and
liaste, amid the laughter of all who witnessed
his discomfiture; and the two friends were left
in peace and mutual love.
II031E.?If you have boys and girls in the
liouse, impress upon them the beauty and
utility of order. "A place for everything and
everything in its place" should lie the chosen
motto of every household. Ornament the walls
with the prettiest pictures you can.afford.
Ohromos will do very well if you cannot have
steel engravings or paintings, provided they
ire artistic in design and coloring. Baskets,
rases, family and other pictures tastefully
irranged act as a gentle sedative on the disturbed
mind, and give a feeling of kindness
md sympathy 'which naked walls can never
give. Of course the windows should be tastefully
and carefully curtained, and the centre
table, with its hanging lamp or chandalier,
iliould add cheerfulness to the apartment.
Books and newspapers in variety should be
present. Amusements are absolutely necessary,
and among those of the graver sort
ire reading aloud by one of the family, and
followed by an examination, instruction or
liscussion, in which all sliould be invited to
participate. But boys and girls do not like to
be confined to prosaic amusements, and will
not be, though parents command them to refrain.
Hence it behooves parents rather to
sncourage certain amusements at home than
forbid them, because when forbidden the same
Amusements will be indulged in in a private
way, and the bad phases of such diversions
axe much more likely to be adopted. Encourage
social gatherings and a world wide sympathy
for human kind wherever found. It
pays to make home pleasant and attractive.
Read This, Boys.?A gentleman advertised
for a boy to assist him in his office, and
nearly fifty applicants presented themselves
to him. Out of the whole number he in a
short time selected one and dismissed the
rest.
"I should like to know," said a friend, "on
what ground you selected that boy, who had
not a single recommendation ?"
"You are mitsakeu," said the gentleman;
i "he had a great many. He wiped his feet
when he came in, and closed the door after
him, showing that he was careful. He gave
up his seat instantly to that lame old man,
showing that he was kind and thoughtful.
He took off his cap when he came in? and answered
my questions promptly, showing that
ue was polite ana genuemamy. ac piu&cu uy
the book which I had purposely laid upon
the floor, and replaced it upon the table,
while all the rest stepped over it or shoved it
aside; and he waited quietly for his turn, instead
of pushin ; and crowding, showing that
he washonorat e and orderly. When I talked
with him I not ced that his clothes were carefully
brushed, l is hair in nice order, and when
he wrote his n ime I noticed that his fingernails
were clean, instead of lieing tipped with
jet, like that handsome little fellow in the
blue jacket. Don't you call those things letters
of recommendation V I do; and I would
give more for what I can tell about a boy by
using my eyes ten minutes than all the letters
he can bring me."
? #
Color Blindness.?There are three kinds
of color blindness. There are the red blind,
the green blind and violet blind. A very
large proportion of those afllicted are red
blind, some are green blind and very few are
violet blind. ^ Some are blind as to two of the
base colors, generally red and green. There
are only a few authentic cases of total color
blindness. To such everything in nature appears
black or white or light or dark gray in
various degrees. To a red blind, red will
appear yellow, green, brown or black, according
to the shade of red used and the
degree of the blindness. A bright red will
appear dark-green and an equally bright green
can be distinguished from it only by being of
a lighter shade. To the color blind every
phnnorA in intensity of light. from twilight,
fog or from changed physical condition, as by
fatigue or excitement, represents a change in
color or shades of color. Santonine, a medicine
not very frequently used, temporarily
makes everything appear yellow, while alchohol
and tobacco used to excess permanently
impair the chromatic sense. To the green
blind, whose only two concepts of base colors
are red and violet, green being composed of
almost equal parts of those colors, appears
gray; reds appear brighter than normal, orange
and yellow as more or less luminous red,
blue as an intense violet. "
Value of Civility.?Politeness is good
and always results well. A polite and suave
deportment constitutes one of the truest symbols
of good breeding. There is nothing which
costs less effort, and nothing which yields a
better return in the way of good feeling and
genuine pleasure than kindly speech and affable
demeanor. A graceful, polite address may
be as easily cultivated as the reverse, and may
be set down as a valuable accomplishment.
It is much too frequently the case that little
or no deference is paid to the feelings and
tastes of others, sometimes unintentionally it
may be, but the result is the same, and might
always be forstalled by an ordinary observance
of the simple and fundamental principles that
underlie self possession and true gentility.
The advice of an ancient sage, (Lockmau to his
son we believe), "to regard a superior as a
father, an equal as a brother, an inferior as a
son," is a gem of wisdom, and should be
known and acted upon throughout the gradations
and ramifications of society. This,
with a studious observance of the Golden
Rule, or Royal Law, "to do unto others as you
would have them do unto you," would leave
no room for chaos and disorder, but would
trantform the world into a veritable paradise
btlow.
Mexico.?Mexico does not progress very
rapidly. There are many reasons for this, but
since the development of railroads in that
country, we are beginning to find out something.
An American who quite lately came
from Mexico, states that the Mexicans have
few manufactures and no modern machinery ;
that he has seen a thousand men and boys at
work in a field harvesting with sickles ; that
heretofore there have been very few companies
and firms in Mexico, as they have had a great
distrust of railway or any other corporations;
that on account of this distrust, money accumulated
is hoarded and rendered useless to its
owners and to the communities in which they
reside ; that he -knows of one family that has
two hundred and fifty thousand dollars stowed
away in barrels; that there is only one lxink in
Mexico, which is owned by Englishmen ; and
that the only thing approaching in character
to a bank authorized or established by the government
is a large pawn shop, which makes
advances on various articles. These brief
statements indicate at once tne directions m
which progress is the most essential, and the <
deficiencies which, to a great extent, will
probably be remedied by the enterprises in
which a number of pur countrymeu are interested.
?
Fashion in Colors.?The new colors are
copied from foliage and fiowers, and take their
names accordingly ; for instance, a new dark
green is called elder green, another shade is
sycamore, and the olive greens are called lichen
green ; a purple-red like scabieuse is marked
petunia, and a similar shade is orchis ; the
azealea red and pale eglantine (wild-rose) pink
have-already been noted ; the Turc and Sicily
reds are brighter shades than the dull garnet
so long worn, and are similar to carnation
red. Sunflower yellow is shown in ribbons and
crapes, while the paler yellow tints are maize,
like the corn and straw colors worn before
dull ecru shades were popular. Cinnamon
brown with red predominating and the yellow
leaf browns are shown, with also the dark reddish
seal brown. There are three shades of
beige ranging from ecru to brown, and there
is pure white that has no yellow tinges, as
well as the cream white that is almost as dark
as Isabel yellow. Suez blue is a very pale
shade, hussar blue is dark, and Russian blues
have the gray shades that have been fashionable
during the winter. Argent, or silver gray,
is again largely imported.
+. ?
A Compromise.?An English justice sentenced
a couple to matrimony under circumstances
which seem legally just, although
legally curious. A young man and young
woman were contesting possession of a piece
of property, the one claiming it under an old
lease the other under an old will. "It strikes
me," said the justice, "that there is a pleasant
and easy way to terminate the old law-suit.
The plaintiff appears to be a respectable
young man, and this a very nice young woman.
They can both get "married and live
happily on the farm. If they go on with law
proceedings it will be frittered away between
lawyers who, I am sure, are not ungallant
enough to wish the marriage not to come off."
The lady blushed, and the young man stammered
that they "liked each other a bit," so
a verdict was entered for the plaintiff 011 condition
of his promise to marry the defendant
within three months, a stay of execution being
put to the verdict till the ceremony should
be completed.
The Origin of tile Sioux.?The Sioux,
if Indian tradition is to be believed, are a newpeople.
The tradition is that a party of wild
young men of different tribes banded themselves
together to make a new tribe. This
was in the Blackfeet country, near the head
of the South Saskatchawan river, away to the
northwest of Fort Benton. These Romans of
the north marched on, conquering and absorbing
the tribes they subdued, marrying
such wives as pleased them. Their course was
to the south and east and was not interrupted
uptil the whites came in from the east.