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VOL. 40. YOEKVILLE, S. O., WEDNESDAY, MAY 3Q, 1894. NO. 33.
A YANKEI
BY CHARLES B. L
Copyright, 1?H, by the American Press Ass
CHAPTER XV.
We follow Jackson up and down the
valley because his movements are
threads of our story, and he must be
driven away to introduce new characters.
Shields had scarcely ceased pursuit
when a Federal army under Banks
was sent into the valley. No one supposed
Jackson bad recovered from his
defeat when he suddenly moved an army
of 12,000 men down to New Market,
crossed the Shenandoah river and the
mountain range to the east and was in
the Luray valley before an alarm was
raised. There was a Federal force stationed
at Front Royal, and he was moving
to attack it.
An army in the march is a monster
serpent on the move. Far in advance
are cavalry scouts. Then follows a body
of troopers. After that comes the advance
guard of infantry. Then artillery,
more infantry, more artillery, and
finally the wagon train. The highway
is packed with a living, moving mass
for miles and miles. Infantry and cavalry
overflow into the adjacent fields on
the right and left. Where there is a
bend in the road they cut across it.
Horses fall lame or sick and are abandoned.
Wagons break down and are
unloaded and set on fire. Guns and
caissons get mixed or upset in the
ditches, and a hundred men lend their
aid.' Sore footed men stagger and limp
and finally throw themselves down and
declare they can go no farther. Here
and there a musket is accidentally discharged.
followed by a shriek and a
fall, and half an hour later the victim
fills a grave by the roadside. The ma&s
advances a quarter of a mile and halts.
Another quarter of a mile and another
halt. Only in the case of a single regiment
is there freedom to step out and
march at the rate of three or four miles
an hour.
The trail of a marching army, even
in a country of friends, is a trail of ruin
and desolation. Every soldier is an engine
of destruction. He has a feeling
that he must desolate and destroy.
Trees are felled and fences pulled down
? to repair the roads, gardens are despoiled,
crops are trampled under foot,
fruit trees denuded of their branches,
stacks and barns fired by accident or
design. It is as if a fierce cyclone bad
passed over the country, followed by a
plague.
So Jackson's army swept forward to
Front Royal. His command outnumbered
the Federal force four to one, and
his presence was not suspected until his
artillery began to thunder. The Federal
commander soon discovered the situation,
but be did not retreat without
a fight. He gathered bis handful of
men, posted them to cover the town,
and for an hour they held Jackson at
bay. It was only when they were almost
surrounded that they gave way
and sought shelter in the passes of the
mountain. Jackson paused only long
enough to burn such Federal stores as
he could not handily carry away and
antnnf /lorrrr* fKo T.nrav Ivonf fn th?
left, and next day was before Winchester.
He attacked and recaptured the
town and drove every Federal to the
Potomac and across it before he halted
^Then the Federal government grasped
the situation, and three different armies
were dispatched to close in on Jackson
and destroy him. The battles of Cross
Keys and Port Republic followed, and
Jackson fell back to join Lee and take
part in the battle which was to sweep
McClellan from the peninsula. The
Shenandoah and the Luray were now in
possession of the Federals, to be held
till the close of the war. but only with
desperate fighting at intervals.
And now the gallant Custer, with bis
command, reached the Shenandoah with
the army of occupation?a young man,
fresh from West Point, on whom the
volnnteer officers looked with distrust,
but only waiting to prove his worth.
Coster belonged to Michigan. His first
command was the First, Fifth. Sixth
and Seventh cavalry regiments of that
state, knowu as the Michigan cavalry
brigade. While his fame was national,
while his sad death years after the war
in that terrible massacre touched the
heart of every American, it is in Michigan
more than anywhere else that his
memory is reverenced. It will live
there until every soldier and soldier s
eon and grandson sleeps beneath the
sod. The plains of northern Virginia
were given up to fierce battles between
infantry, the valleys to desperate charges
and bloody conflicts between the opposing
cavalry forces.
Jackson had looked his last upon the
Shenandoah. He was to become Lee's
right arm and fight elsewhere until his
fall in the darkness on the bush lined
highway at Chancellorsville. Another
took his place, and the deud Ashby was
replaced by Stuart to lead the cavalry.
' Let us go back to Royal Kenton. We
left him just as Reube Parker had been
made prisoner by a Federal scouting
party. Reube basely sought to betray
him, but he failed of bis purpose. The
Federal captain beat up the neighborhood
as thoroughly as possible, but Kenton
slipped through his fingers and returned
to Jackson to make bis report.
It was his information, seconded no
doubt by that of others, which decided
Jackson's move to Front Royal. While
the general seemed pleased at Kenton's
success, the latter could not fail to perceive
that something was yet amiss. In
his own mind he felt sure that he was
mistrusted, and it was easy to conclude
why. Not that he had failed in any one
particular to do bis duty, but that the
officers and men of his own company,
for reasons already given, were seeking
bi3 downfall. When he had finished
his report, he was ordered to his company,
and again he found only one man
to give him greeting. Steve Brayton
chuckled with satisfaction as lie extended
his hand and asked for particulars.
The others only gave him looks of distrust.
When Kenton was asked regarding
Renbe Parker and had made his explanation?,
Steve grew thoughtful and
serious and finally replied:
"It's a good joke on the captain, but
I'm troubled as to bow it will end up.
I jest reckon they ar' mean 'nuff to
charge yo' with killin Reube. They
can't prove it, but it will get the gine*al
down on yo' and make things wuss.
Dod blast the fules anyway! Why can't
they give yo' a fa'r show even if yo be
a Yank?"
The crisis came next day. Reube
Parker had been carried into the Federal
camps as a prisoner, but owing to
the confusion and excitement was not
strictly guarded and managed to make
his escano and arrive at Confederate
headquarters less than 24 hours after
Keuton. After a brief interview with
Captain Wyle the pair proceeded to
General Jackson's headquarters, and
when they left it Royal Kenton was
sent for. General Jackson was a plain,
blant spoken man. Even while planning
the great campaign on which he
was to enter within three or four days
he had determined to give this matter
attention. Reube Parker had charged
Kenton with bringing about bis capture
for revenge. Captain Wyle had stated
that he and all his company distrusted
his loyalty. The general asked the scout
for a statement of facts, and Kenton
gave it to him, concealing no occurrence
from the date of his enlistment. The
general listened attentively and without
interruption. Then Reube Parker, who
bad been sent fcr and was in waiting,
was ushered in to confront Kenton. He
was a bad man, but not a nervy one, In
5 IN GRAY.
EWIS, "M QUAD."
ociution.
1 five minutes it was apparent that he had
lied, and he was dismissed. Then Kenton
was asked to step out. and Steve
; Brayton, whom he had several times referred
to, was ushered in. Ho told a
straight story, and it was greatly to the
discredit of Captain Wyle. When Kenton
again returned to the general's presi
ence, the latter kindly said:
"It is a matter I very much regret,
and I do not see how I can mend it just
yet. I will, however, do what I think
is best for all."
That "best" resulted in both Kenton
and Brayton being detailed temporarily
j to the quartermaster's department.
When Jack6on moved away for the Luj
ray valley, all the guards were mount"Dod
rot 'cm!" growled Steve.
| ed, having been transferred to the cavalry,
but the pair were left behind in
! disgrace. So they considered it, and
: they were further humiliated by the
1 jeers and flings from comrades as they
filed past.
! "Dod rot 'em, but this 'ere laughin
match hain't over yit!" growled Steve
as he shook his fist at the backs of his
comrades. "Yo' ar' doin the grinnin
jest now, but it'll be our turn biineby!
Befo' this fuss is over with the southern
confederacy will be powerful glad of
j every man it kin rake and scrape into
the ranks!"
Kenton had nothing to say. He was
| even secretly glad that the machinations
' of his enemies had resulted in nothing
[ worse. In his pocket at that very hour
! he had a letter from Marian detailing
the family flight from Winchester, in
j forming him of their destination and
; counseling him to do his duty as a sol1
dier and not be disturbed over the plots
of his enemies. She knew that he was
being maligned and vilified for her
sake, so she wrote, but she hoped to be
worthy of all the sacrifices be might bo
I compelled to make.
"Say, Kenton." exclaimed Steve as
he suddenly turned on him, "why don't
i yo' rip and cuss and tear an show yo'r
. feelin's?"
"We have both been wronged," slowly
replied Kenton, "but time will make
all things right if wo do our duty loyally
and faithfully."
"I reckon so," said Steve as he turnI
ed away, "but yo' Yanks is a durned
j cur'us lot o' critters jest the same!"
I
CHAPTER XVI.
While Jackson was pressing on to
join Lee most of his cavalry was detached
and left in the valley. The Shenandoah
ennrds. which had dronned the
title when transferred to the cavalry,
were a portion of Imhoden's command.
The Federals ponred into the Shenandoah
and Luray from the north and recaptured
everything and pressed the
Confederates slowly back to Staunton,
i Neither side was strong enough to possess
and hold the valley. The Confed!
erate occupation defended one of the
roads to Richmond. The Federal occupation
defended one of the roads to
Washington. There were scouting and
raiding and clashing of sabers, but nothing
like a general battle resulted. Both
cominandeis had been instructed to
| avoid this and watch the mighty movements
developing elsewhere.
What is a battle like?a battle in
j which 10,000 men tall in their tracks
to die with the roar of the guns still
sounding in their ears and as many
j more lie there fur hours cursing and
groaning and praying with the pain of
their wounds? McClellan was on both
sides of the Cbickabominy, with the
spires of Richmond in view. His front
j was miles long and defended by rifle
pits, earthworks, felled trees and natl
ural obstructions. More than 100,000
Federals faced Lee along this line." Behind
them were camps and wagon trains
i and field hospitals and supplies cumbering
the ground for miles and miles.
McClellan was about to attack. He
was even writing his order when Leo
fell upon his wing at Meclianicsville.
That was a feint. The fight at Meadow
Bridge, directly in front of his center,
was a piece of strategy. The assault
upon his wing at Cold Harbor was
meant to annihilate him. The battle
ground was made up of swamps, cleared
fields, patches of forest, timber covered
hills and old fields grown up to bushes
and briers. McClellan bad two and
three lines of earthworks here, and here
Li 4.^/1 f nr.
IJ1S gUJJS Wl'lt) piuiliew an iiin.ni; uo jiru
could work them. Longstreet and Hill
attacked hero. They knew the strength
of the position; they had counted the
odds. There was no skirmishing, no
waiting. On a front three miles long
the Confederates suddenly appeared and
rushed forward to the attack. Had
they numbered five times as many they
would have been beaten back. They
were repulsed again and again by the
fire which seemed to burn them off the
i face of the earth, but those who lived
came back again more desperato than
before. Only their leaders knew why
( this terrible sacrifice was being offered
up to the god of war. Lee had planned
with Jackson. Jackson had left the valley
by way of Brown's gap to fall upon
McClellan's flank at Cold Harbor. The
sacrifice in front was to give Jackson
time and to mask his movement.
And so Longstreet and Hill advanced
again and again to the sacrifice until
tlieir dead and wounded outnumbered
I the living. Tho afternoon sun was sinking
lower and lower. By and by it was
only an hour high. Then the roar of
battle along the front suddenly ceased.
Had the remnants of regiments and
brigades become panic stricken at the
awful waste of life and fled from the
field? Had they sullenly refused to obey
orders to advance again? Had Leo
given up all hope of success and withdrawn
from that front? For fivo minutes
scarcely a musket was discharged.
, Then from the heavy forest directly 0:1
the flank of the position Jackson appeared.
Tho flank of an army is its
weak spot. Even if attacked in tho rear
it can faco about and fight with hope
of success, but if tho flank gives way
disaster follows. Jackson's coining was
a surprise. His attack was as sudden
as the stroke of a bell. It dumfounded
and dismayed tho Federal flank, but
only for a few minutes. MeClellan was
not far away. He had fathomed Lee's
plans and discovered his true object.
The flank gave back until it had a front
of a mile long, and then it halted and
battled to save that great army. What
was to bedoiiemust be done right there.
Re-enforcements were ordered up, guns
advanced, and for an hour there was
such fighting as war had never witnessed
before.
/"V- il.. n...l 1 ontntnn oiwl
\JI1 lliureui'lill IlilIJiv ncicDnuiii|imiu
forest and tangled thicket. Engineers
had eaid that the nature of the ground
protected this flank. Wading through
I swamps deep with ooze, bursting
through, thickets which caught off their
cups ami left their jackets in rags, ad- i
vancing their lines amid the thick '
forests, Jackson's men rushed to the at- !
tack. Time and time again the lines i
were repulsed, but fresh troops poured
out of the woods to take the places of
the dead and wounded, and the battle
' grew more vindictive and murderous.
There is a key to every battlefield.
! There is always a key within n key.
Cold Harbor was the key of this great
j field of slaughter. The exposed flank j
! was the key within the key. Jackson I
| could count hie dead by the thousand, i
! His entire force was up, and he bad j
charged and stormed and battered in
: vain.
j The coming of night does not always
end a battle, but as darkness shuts down
the combatants lose their desperation
and become more wary of each other.
Hunger, thirst and fatigue begin to tell.
! As the fire cf artillery and musketry
! slackens the cries of the wounded are i
heard, and those who have escaped unhurt
begin to estimate the losses. If
Jackson could not break that flank beI
fore night shut down, then his sacrifices
bad been in vain. Then the thousands
of dead and wounded belonging to
j Longstreet and Hill bad simply been
J led to slaughter. An order was sent to
General Hood, whose brigade of Texans j
had been held in reserve for an emer- .
j gency. Hood placed himself at the head
of his 4,000 men and dashed forward.
They had to traverse a swamp and then
cross an open space on which the dead
already lay touching each other. The
Texans had only begun their forward
j movement when every piece of artillery
and every musket on that flank was
j turned upon them. With yells of defii
ance they rushed forward. The skcleI
tonsof men struck down in that swamp
were dug out years afterward as burial j
: parties sought for the dead of the war. j
j Wounded men fell into the pools of
black water or floundered about in the j
ooze, but those unhurt used them for
stepping stones.
Nothing could check that rush. Grape
j and canister and bullet killed and
wounded 2,000 men, but the other 2,000
swept forward, dashed over the earthworks
and were driven like a wedge
! into the Federal flank. It was the cli!
max. Beaten but not panic stricken, 1
the men in blue fell back step by step,
fighting over every foot of the ground, {
and at length they rested on a new
| lino. AlcClellan alone knew that ho
was beaten. He alone realized what
would result. That great army, only a j
portion of which had been driven, must
retreat to a new line and a new base
of supplies. Jackson's coming from the
valley ami placing himself on the Hank
{ had imperiled the fate of the nntion. <
Like the strategist he was. McClellan
assumed much, concealed much. While
i he brought up fresh troops to hold the
j victorious enemy at bay he issued orders
j for retreat.
For weeks and weeks stores had been i
accumulating in rear of that grand J
army. There were thousands of beef j
cattle, train loads of bacon, rice, salt,
beans and other eatables. Thousands I
! of spare tents had come forward, thou- ,
sands of blankets, uniforms, shoes, muskets
and other supplies. Boxes of hard|
tack were piled up 10 feet high for
miles and miles. Barrels of flour, cov- :
ered with tarpaulins, shut out somo of
Jactoon's men rushed^l to the attack.
' the camps from sight of the highways.
Here and there in forest and field were :
great heaps of forage for the animals,
and here and there great heaps of fixed
| ammunition for cannon or mnsket.
| There was the value of millions of dollars
lying about, and nearly all must
be sacrificed. Withdrawal meant retreat.
Retreat meant that Leo and
Jackson would assume the aggressive
and seek to utterly annihilate the Federal
army.
The work of destruction began almost
before the cheers of Hood's Texans had
died away. Whole regiments were de- j
i tailed for the work. Tho cattle could
i be drived away. A part of the most
valuable stores could be hauled off. It
: is a rule of war to leave nothing behind
in retreat to benefit 3'our enemy. He is
I often left tho dead and wounded to embarrass
him. Tho soldiers were ordered
to destroy, and they seemingly took de- [
j light in obeying. The heaps of flour,
meat and clothing were given up to the
flames, and as tho heavens wero lighted i
j by tho midnight fires people on tho
| house roofs in Richmond believed the
j green forests to be fiercely blazing.
I Never had a general more to sacrifice
that ho might be stripped for fight;
never was the hand of destruction more :
xuthlessly applied. A night was not ;
j sufficient. All next day while those in 1
battle lino held the enemy at bay thou- j
1 6ands of men were burning and destroying.
When the Confederates marched
over the ground, they were appalled at
1 tho sacrifices made. When tho last heap
of forage had been given up to the
flames. McClellan was ready. His lines
wero abandoned, and his army was in !
retreat, I ut there was no panic. Leo
and Jackson were ready to follow. They
hoped to find a fleeing mob, but whenever
they attacked it was to bo beaten
back by men as valiant as Napoleon
ever saw turn at bay. Mile by mile
they retreated, pausing now and then
for a fierce grapple in which they could I
1 justly claim a victory, and at last tho
James was reached, and the army had
been saved. What of tho dead and
wounded? Nothing. Tliey figure 111 the
| reports of buttles only us figures.
CHAPTER XVII.
Not one soldier in a hundred more
than catches a glimpse of a battlefield.
He seldom sees what takes place outside
of his own regiment. When two great !
armies grapple, they must have room. 1
The front may be three, four, five or six
miles long. The lines of battle run '
across open fields, through the woods, J
over hills, across highways, through
Orchards. As soon as the firing begins j
the smoke shuts in the vision to the
right and left. Troops may stand or lio
down, have the cover of a breastwork
or none at all. They may charge or be
charged, gain ground or he driven back
to a new line. However the battle goes,
the soldier sees only what takes place
in his immediate front.
And how tho opening of a battle
changes the nature of a man! While
he is waiting for it to begin every nerve
is strung to its utmost, lie may bo a
brave man, but in that hour of waiting
ho denies it to himself. He trembles.
Ho doubts himself. Ho turns pale, and
his knees grow weak. He would run
away but for his pride. It is pride and
not courago that holds him in his place.
Ho may be a man who has never uttered
an oath in the hearing of his comrades?
a man of Christian principles. A minute J
after the firing begins all the wicked
ness born in his soul begins to betray
j itself, lie shouts and raves and curses.
His facial expression is so changed that
his own brother could not identify him.
For the time being he is a madman?a
devil. Ho cries: "Kill! Kill! Kill!"
even though in his excitement he fire9
among the tree tops or at the clouds.
This is the excitement which numbs !
all feeling in some men when wounded,
I and they fight on until they happen to
catch sight of their own blood and then j
' sink helplessly down. It is a sort of I
nightmare 111 which no man can beheld
responsible for his words, and in which !
no ono notes the flight of time. To ;
some an hour seems a day. To others j
the sun passes from the noonday mark I
to the edge of the horizon so swiftly
that they are amazed.
For half a day Lee's whole army had
hurled itself against the Federal lines.
Every foot of ground on that long front
had drunk blood. The lino was broken
only at one place, but that was fatal. J
There the fight continued lo rage until
long after nightfall, but at last it grad- j
ually died away, and a solemn hush fell i
upon the bloody field. One may connnpr
ami vnf hp sn nonr vannnisliod that
he has no strength for another blow. So j
it was with Jackson. Ho had broken j
the Federal line, but ho could not follow
up his advantage. Even if night
had not come he must reorganize his j
shattered commands, replenish his ammunition
and permit the worn out men ,
food and sleep.
A battle dees not cease at once. It is
an hour or more in dying away. There
is a sputtering and growling here and
there, and men give up their work of
death grudgingly. At last a hush comes.
It is absolute to tho men who have been
deafened by the roar for hours and j
hours. It is a blessed relief, but they
look at each other in alarm. The very
stillness frightens them. They have
seen dead and wounded men before
them, to tho right or left, in rear, for
hours, but have scarcely given them a j
thought. Now when the hush conies
tho frenzy gradually goes away, and j
they stand appalled at the slaughter.
The hush does not last long. It is broken
by tho cries of the wounded?by men
who have suffered pair, and thirst and
fear for long hours. There is nothing
known to living man which can be com- j
pared to these cries rising from a field
of slaughter as night comes down. Men j
who have suffered and made no outcry j
while daylight lasted now seem to bo
seized with a fear of the darkness. Men
who seemed to have been struck dead
are revived by tho falling dew to plead }
for life. Some call out in quavering J
voices, like children when in the darkness.
Some curse; some pray; some revile.
Hero and there one, realizing that ;
he is wounded unto death and that help I
will como too late, maintains silence, j
With an effort which starts the red blood
afresh, he carries his hand to the pocket
in which lies a photograph of sweet- i
heart or a last letter from the wife at
home, and the burial party finds his j
dead fingers clutching tho relic and his
glazed eyes fastened upon it?his last
glimpse of things mortal.
The full horror of a battlefield is realized
only at night. While darkness
shuts out a thousand horrible sights, it
yet adds to the horrors. Here and there
parties searching for some officer, dead
or wounded, move about with lantern j
or torch to guide them. They step over ,
the dead. They tread upon hands and
arms outstretched. They slip and stagger
on the spots of earth wet with blood. ,
The wounded hear and see them moving
about, and they call out with renewed ;
strength for succor. A wounded horse |
who has been lying down in a pool of
blood sees the light approaching, and 1
there is something human in his whim- j
perings. He pleads and coaxes. With
a great effort he gains h:.s feet and hob- |
bles along and utters his pleadings and ;
reproaches.
On this battlefield of Cold Harbor are ,
nine or ten thousand dead men, ten or ;
twelve thousand wounded. The living 1
and unhurt are exhausted with the day's
Rtruggle, and the wounded must lie
through the night. There aro no search- ;
ing parties abroad, no details to give |
succor. From forest and thicket and :
field the cries of the 6tricken continue 1
hour after hour, but they cry in va n. In j
the swamp over which Hood charged wounded
men lap the water thick with
mud and slime. They struggle as they
sink slowly into the ooze, etruggle and j
Bbout and pray, but dig their own !
graves, as it were, and some of their
blackened bones aro there today. Here,
where the brigades of Hill moved over
the open ground to charge the troops of
Seymour and Reynolds, the dead lie
thicker than they will in the streets at
Fredricksburg or on the slopes at Get- i
tysburg. There are no wounded?at
least no voices cry out to us through the
darkness. Here the Federals had 30
pieces of artillery posted to command i
the approach, and as the Confederates j
advanced the slaughter was something
terrible. Sixteen hundred and eighty j
dead men lio here in this open spot of
five acres. They were struck down by j
round shot, by bursting shell and by j
grape and canister. There are bodies
without heads, bodies without arms,
bodies which are but fragments. When ]
the burial party reaches this spot to- !
morrow, they will name it "Tho Butch- !
cr Pen," and that name will cling to it |
forevermore. Napoleon would have said j
that no troops in the world could have i
been advanced under that awful fire,
but from 4 o'clock tosundown tho Confederates
charged again and again, leav
ing their dead nearer earthwork and
breastwork each tiine.
Here, where Porter massed 80 guns
at Alexander's Bridge in the vain hope
of saving the center, the dead cannot bo
gathered and buried for days. They are
not corpses, but fragments of corpses.
Anns and legs will be found amid the
branches of trees,and hands and feet and
pieces of flesh and bloody benes must
bo raked up as if it were a hay field.
Here, where General Cooke with his cavalry
charged 0110 of Longstreet's divisions
and was broken and shattered and
routed within five minutes, 500 horses
cover two acres of ground. Among them
are 300 dead and wounded troopers. It
was a gallant charge, but it was made
in vain. Even by noonday no man can
passover that field without staining his
boots with blood. If corn grows here
in after years when men shall be at
peace, it will grow rank and tall, and
the rustle of the stalks in tho summer '
wind will sound like a chant in memory
of the dead.
It is midnight. McClellan is moving
quietly to tho rear, tho Confederates
along his front watching, waiting,
sleeping. Tho wounded lmvo almost
ceased to call out. The faces of the dead I
have been made whiter and more ghastly
by tho bath of dew. And now the
|
They kneel beside the dead mul search
each packet.
ghoul steals away from the dying campfiro
into the darkness and skulks and j
creeps and crawls about in search of !
plunder. Every army has its human
hyenas. They may havo fought bravely
during the b.-ttle, but as night falls
and men cease their work of killing tho
ghoulish instinct cannot be resisted.
They kneel beside the dead and search
each pocket. Their knees feel the earth
wet with blood, but they do not shrink.
Their hands touch gaping wounds and j
are smeared wim mono, inu mere is no !
disgust. Whatever plunder they secure
is blood stained, but on the morrow
they will wash away the stains.
"Here?this way?for God's sako
give mo water!"
It is a wounded man who has heard j
tho ghoul moving about. No matter J
whether ho is a friend or foe, ho may
yield plunder. Tho ghoul bends over
him and begins a search. Tho wound* j
ed man may quietly submit, hoping at j
least to be rewarded with water enough :
to moisten his parched tongue and burn- j
ing throat. If so, ho is spared. If not, I
strong fingers seize his throat and faste'n
there until ho is dead, or his own bayonet
way be driven into his heart.
And when the sumwer sun comes up
ngain a hundred burial parties will be
scattered along this front, and a thousand
men will bo busy digging the long
trenches into which the dead are to be
heaped. There will be no time wasted.
The dead will be picked up as fast as
possible and dragged or carried to the
trenches. No ono will ask their names,
no one search their pockets. Side by
side, like sticks of wood, heads all one
way, and then a covering of dirt is be
ii.?
gruuglljgjy glYUU. xcaio itiici iud
trenches bidden by brier and bush will
be opened, and the bones lifted out to
be carried to the spot wbero a single
monument must serve to cherish the
memory of thousands.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The name "Rest Haven" had been
given to the house in the mountains to
which the Percys retreated from Winchester.
The first idea was to make use
of it for only a few weeks?until the
war was over. Nobody in the south
after the Confederate victory at Bull
Run doubted that peace would be long
coming. They were hardly settled when
Jackson recaptured Winchester. They
had scarcely heard this news when the
town was reoccupied by a Federal force.
In the last battle for possession the Percy
mansion and all outbuildings were
burned to the ground. Others Shared
tho same fate. Indeed the flames of
war wiped out a third of the town before
war was hardly more than a holiday.
For a few days after learning of this
disaster the Percys talked of leaving
the valley for some point farther south,
but just as they had made up their
minds to go Mrs. Percy fell seriously
ill, and that occurrence checkmated all
plan6 for leaving Rest Haven.
The servants who had fled from the
house at Winchester did not leturn,
but with hundreds of other colored people
made their way to Harper's Ferry
and thence to Washington. Uncle Ben
was the only one left, and but for the
presence of Mrs. Baxter the ladies
would have been in sore straits. The
slaves, male and female, were escaping
from the villages and plantations in
droves, and the two or three women
whom Uncle Ben induced to enter into
service at the Haven disappeared with
the first dark night.
While Marian Percy felt distrust of
Mrs. Baxter, the woman was so respectful
in demeanor and rendered herself
in all ways so useful that the feeling
rather diminished than increased.
Uncle Ben, on the contrary, grew to
hate her worse and worse as time passed
on. He could not conceal his dislike
of her, though he restrained his tongue
from denunciation. He realized that
under the circumstances it was not only
policy but duty to do bo. One day he
found opportunity to say to Marian:
"Miss Sunshine, doyo' 'member what
I dun told yo' befo' we left Winchester
'bout dat Missus Baxter?"
" Yes," she replied, "but 1 think you
were mistaken. She is a little queer
about some things, but on the whole a
very good woman. I don't know how
His hour's visit was therefore a very
agreeable one.
we could have got along without her."
"Mebbe I was mistooken," said CJncle
Ben as ho thoughtfully scratched his
head, "butdar'sa heapo' things I can't
jest make out. Who yo' reckon dun bin
writin letters to her?"
"Her husband probably."
"Den why don't dem letters cum wid
yo' mail when I dun bring it up? I'ze
seen a stranere man ridin bv on a mewl
who brought letters to her three or fo'
times. I'zo seen her writin letters two
or three times, but she nebber did send
'era to town by me. What all dat mean,
Miss Sunshine?"
"Oh, it's just her queer way, Uncle
Ben, and there is nothing to worry
about," replied Marian, though his
statements filled her with surprise.
"yuare ways, eh? Waal, I'zegwine
to keep boaf my eyes open all de time.
Sunthin gwine to cum from all dis,
Miss Sunshine. Sunthin hound to come.
White folks doan' act dat way on less dey
means mischief. I hain't gwiuo to say
nuffiu to nobody, but I'ze gwine to be
prepar'd fur trouble!"
When Mrs. Percy fell ill, Ben succeeded
in securing for awhile the services
of an old colored woman who seemingly
had no longing for liberty, and
6uch assistance as the neighbors could
extend was freely given. The doctor
who had been called lived seven miles
away, and tho old man had frequently
to ride back and forth over a highway
on which very few farmers had located.
On one of these excursions, and when
within a mile of home on his return trip,
ho caught sight of a man and woman as
they moved out of the road and disappeared
in a thicket. He was close
enough to be satisfied that the woman
was Mrs. Baxter, and that the man was
a Confederate officer, and their anxiety
to avoid him aroused all his suspicions,
fie intended to communicate with Miss
Mafian at once, but circumstances prevented,
and next day tho household was
surprised by a call from Captain Wyle
and his cavalry company. He stated
that ho was on detached duty in that
neighborhood.
While the captain had been given to
understand that his suit was hopeless,
and while Marian fully realized that
he had done and was still doing all in
his power to degrade and disgrace the
man she had accepted, she nevertheless
felt that it was policy to receive him
courteously and shun anything that
might lead to arousing a new feeling of
enmity against Kenton. On his part
the captain was careful to say nothing
that might wound or offend, and his
hour's visit was therefore a very agreeable
one. He extended his sympathies,
offered to do anything in his power to
relievo their anxieties and rode away
with a smile of satisfaction on his face.
Ho argued tbut Marian was wavering
in her faith in Kenton, and that timo
and circumstance would bring about
tho change ho desired.
Man's most frequent boast is that he
can read and understand woman, and
yet it is in that ho is oftenest deceived.
Few women can read and understand
themselves.
During tho captain's visit Marian
had been forced to notice the demeanor
cf Mrs. Baxter. She seemed transformed
into a new being?smiling, laughing
ami appearing to be full of joy over
something. When tho visitor had departed,
she was fulsome in his praise,
and for the first time since coming to
the Percys' she betrayed her real stato
of feeling. She was an ally of tho captain's.
Why? After puzzling for a
timo Marian asked:
"Did Captain Wyle bring you news
of your husband?"
"Yes'm. Ike has got back to Winchester,
along with tho others. Tho
Yankees got afeared that Ike would
break loose and do awful damage, and
so they let him go."
4 Ho was wounded, wasn't he?"
"Yes'm, and ho un won't bo fitten
to go back to tho army fur somo weoka
vit. When ho un does, he'll hev a crit- j
ter and a sword and ride around with
Captain Wyle."
"Perhaps they'll make him an officer for
his bravery."
"He un deserves it, fur suah?of
! co'so him does!" replied Mrs. Baxter,
: with a good deal of vigor. "If it
I wasn't fur that onery Yankee"
"Do you mean Mr. Kenton?" asked
Marian as the woman caught herself.
"I?I dun forget!" she stammered. ,
mar s inn ho inucn iussm uuui war
that I'm talkiri 'bout Yankees half the
i time. Yes, I hope they'll make Ike an
I ossifer right away."
She excused herself and was hastening
away when Marian detained her to i
ask:
| 'Mrs. Baxter, has there ever been
any trouble between your hnsband and j
Mr. Kenton?"
i "I?I jest can't declar'l"
"But you feel bitter toward Mr. Ken- .
ton. Will you tell mo why?"
"Why, he tin stands in Ike's way, and
I orter feel hardwise, hadn't I?"
"I can't understand how he stands in
| Ike's way."
"Nor I either, but that's what Ike
says, and that's what Captain Wyle |
says, and him jest orter be driv' over
I into the Yankee army whar he belongs! 1
He un's a spy, Miss Percy, a regular
I Yankee spy, and him's mean as pizen, >
j and somebody ortei shoot him, and Cap- ;
! tain Wylosays"
i But she checked heiself again. Her
i feelings had been aroused, and she had
; said far more than sho intended. She j
j was half laughing, half crying as she
begged Marian's paulon and withdrew, j
Now Marian knew why Mrs. Baxter
had come to her. Sho had a suspicion
as to the flight of her servants. The !
qneer actions spoken of by Uncle Ben j
were now explained.
It looked as if Captain Wyle and Mrs. j
j Baxter were conspiring together, and
, the object was very plain. For reason?!
i of his own the captain had aroused Mrs, i
Baxter's enmity toward Kenton and J
! made Ike an enemy to be feared. There !
; was a complication which puzzled Ma- {
j rinn, and as tho days went by she was j
no wiser. If Uncle Ben made any new
' discoveries, ho kept them to himself,
j and the mother was too ill to be worried I
| over anything that could be kept from
i her.
Three days after Captain Wyle's visit i
there were a clatter of hoofs and a jangle
of sabers, and tho road was alive I
with Federal cavalry for miles. It was
j a portion of Custer's brigade making a I
! reconnoissance in force, and Custer him- '
j self rode at the head. While tho com- j
j mand halted at a creek below the house i
] to water their horses and eat a noonday
meal from their haversacks the 1
| general and his staff halted at the door
! in search of refreshment. They were
, politely and even kindly received by
: Marian, who insisted upon supplying 1
them with whatever tho house afforded.
| Captain Wylebad boastfully announced
; that there was not a Yankee in uniform
; within 50 miles of Rest Haven. Hero
, was proof that they even held the territory
round about her. When General
I Custer understood that she was a refu!
gee from Winchester, ho informed her j
I that tho Federals then held nearly all
: the Shenandoah and Luray valleys, and
: there was every prospect of their permanent
occupation. He kindly offered
j her all possible assistance if she desired
to pass through the lines in any direction,
but it was plain that the mother
was then too ill to undertake even the i
shortest journey. Ho begged her to ac- j
cept some commissary stores?coffee, I
, sugar and meat?and realizing the i
I spirit which had prompted him she did |
not refuse. The first two articles had ;
not only become luxuries in the war j
ridden valley, but were not to be had J
even in exchange for gold.
That was Marian's first sight of Cus- |
| ter, but it was not to be her last.
CHAPTER XIX.
As the Federals poured into the Sben- \
andoah valley and regained lost ground ;
the quartermaster and commissary
I stores left by Jackson under the guard
i nf n fflw or-nrfi men at Harrisnnburer
V* W v.. 0
| were made ready to be forwarded to
; Richmond. While Royal Kenton fully j
, realized that his being left behind was j
j bnt another move in the conspiracy to
i destroy him, ho allowed no one to unI
derstand the real state of his feelings.
! There was work to do, and plenty of it,
i and ho took hold so willingly that only
! a few days had passed before ho was
j commended for his zeal by the major in
command of the post.
1 Unexpected difficulties aroso about 1
securing transportation, and though re- |
ports of a Federal advance wero daily '
received the major hung 011 in hopes of i
saving the stores. One morning at sun- j
! rise his pickets wero driven in by troop- |
I ers in blue, and 10 minutes later he re- !
1 I
ceived a summons from General Custer I
to surrender. Ho had only about 200 j
men all told, while it was plain to be |
seen that he was fairly surrounded by !
j the force opposed. Ho asked for 15
! minutes to consider and at tho end of
: that time returned-n refusal. His little
! force almost to a man had agreed to
! fight to the last. Three or four eurthj
works had been thrown up to protect
; the supply depot, but they wero withI
out artillery. The forco was divided so
! as to man them all, and Royal Kenton
; and Steve Brayton found themselves
and about 20 other men in a work without
even a noncommissioned officer j
: among them. As they wero already unj
der fire, Kenton was by common consent
given command.
{ "We una is gone up this time fur
suah," observed Steve as Custer posted
j his brigade and then opened firo with a
1 battery, "but I reckon we might sorter
I ^ i }
i X*T>:? ^ |
' f N?
Custer postal his brlyade mid then opened
fire with a buttery.
hang on fur awhile and-let 'em boo wo
haiu't skeert. Yesterday I figgered that
one Confederate could lick about seven
J Yankees in any sort o' scrimmage, but
dod rot my buttons if things don't look i
different today!"
! The earthwork sheltered them from '
I the shot ami shell of tho artillery, and
j Kenton ordered tho littlo band to be
J ready for the dash ho knew would sooner
; or later be made. Tho Federals could
j bo seen dismounting just outsido of
j musket range,and as a force of about .
i 500 wero moving out to charge tho fort
hold by the major he raised a white flag
in token of surrender. Tho other tworefused
to bo bound by his action, but .
ono of them was charged with cheers
; and hurrahs and captured after firing a.
i single volley.
i "Waal, Yank, what's the word now?"
asked ono of Kenton's men as all real- j
i ized the stnfo of affairs.
"Fight!" was tho brief reply,
i "I alius knowed he un was game.
' Threo cheers for Kenton!" shouted Stevei
Bray ton. ,|
They wero given with a will, but bcI
fore tho echoes had died away Custer's- ,
i ontii-n linHnrv wnq turned ncrainst tho- 'i
j fort, while a hundred dismounted raeh. j
crept within rifle shot and opened a fire- j
which obliged the defenders to remain, j
inactive. Kenton knew that the firo* J
would cease as n cliarge was about to
be made. This, owing to the nature of
tbo ground, could only be made from
one direction and by a small body of
men. The lull came, and under cover
of the smoke 200 dismounted men of
the Fifth Michigan dashed forward.
They were received by a volley which
staggered and checked them, and while
rallying the little band had time to reload.
One moro volley sent the troopers
back to cover, and Steve Brayton
threw his hat into the air and shouted:
"We uns has just licked the hull
Yankeo army right out of its butes and
ar* gwino to march on Washington!"
Kenton expected another charge with
m 10 minutes, but instead of tbat Custer
sent in a flag of truce and a demand
to surrender. Ho stated that an attempt
to hold the position after all the
others had been taken was simply a
reckless waste of human life. Ho knew
their exact number and knew they had
neither food nor water. They had proved
themselves brave men, and he trusted
they would now realize the situation
and accept it as brave men should.
Kenton read the note aloud, so that all
could hear, and when lie had finished it
he said:
"We might stop another charge, but
they aro certain to capture us in the
end. I advise surrender."
There were a few dissenters, but 15
minutes later the 22 men had marched
out and grounded their arms in token
of surrender. Their captors wore men
who could appreciate bravery, no matter
by whom displayed. As the surrender
was made 4,000 troopers waved
their hats and cheered.
"I am not an officer, and I therefore
have no sword to surrender," said Kenton
as General Custer rode to tho head
of the short line and seemed somewhat
astonished to find only private soldiers.
"But who commanded in there?"
asked the general.
"I gave what orders were given, sir."
" WeU, the southern confederacy made
a miss of it in not making you a captain
long ago. Had the other forts held out
as pluckily as you did we should have
had a hard fight to get at the stores."
While a list of the prisoners was being
made out and thoarms collected the
troopers turned their attention to the
stores. The idea was not to remove but
to destroy them. The quickest way to
do it was to apply the torch, and in the
course of an hour everything was in
flames. The Confederate major had, as
stated, surrendered the fort ho occupied
with about 80 of the men without firing
a shot. A court martial would have
promptly exonerated him from the
charge of cowardice had it been made,
for the situation was almost hopeless.
That one of the forts should have held
out and that the high private in command
of it should have been complimented
for his bravery rankled in the
major's heart. Ho received permission
to enter the field where the rank and
file wer6 surrounded by a Federal guard,
and searching out Royal Kenton he angiily
demanded:
"By what authority did you presume
to hold that fort after my surrender of
the poet?"
" We did not know that your surrender
included more than the fort you
were holding," replied Kenton.
"Captain Wyle told me something
about you before ho left," continued
the major. "He regarded you with the
greatest suspicion. It would not have
surprised me had you surrendered first
of all."
"I believe that honor wan left to you,
sir," quietly replied Kenton.
"Hooray fur the Yank?three cheers
fur Kenton!" shouted the excitable
Steve. And they were given by the
whole force of Confederates with great
enthusiasm.
"I fully understand your motive,
sir!" exclaimed the major when the
cheering had ceased. "You simply
wanted to reap a little glory?to stand
well in the estimation of your friends.
You have accomplished it, but there will
be a hereafter. The minute I am exchanged
I shall prefer charges and have
you court ruartialed. If you don't conclude
to remaiu among your Yankee
friends, I shall"
"Hear he un talk like a fool!" interrupted
Steve, treading army discipline
"n,lor frwif iri hiq OTf>itement. "If the
major hadn't surrendered hefo' a man
was hit, these Yankscouldn't 'a' got us
in all day!"
"That's so! That's 60!" shouted a
hundred men. And the enriro lot began
cheering for Steve Brayton.
"And who are you, sir?" demanded
the major, now pale with passion.
"Private Steve Brayton, sir, of Captain
Wyle's critter company, and I was
left behind here becauso I was a friend
of Kenton's."
"Oh, I see! Well, I'll see to your
case at tbe same time."
"Yes, and tell 'em thar's 15 dead and
wounded men to show what we uns did
befo' we surrendered," replied Steve.
"Rush him! Rush him!" shouted
the crowd, overcome by excitement and
forgetting the respect due an officer.
The major backed away, but in an
instant he was carried off his feet and
rushed to the sentry line, and when he
picked himself up off the grass he wus
bruised and battered and his uniform
in a very dilapidated condition. Groans
and hisses followed him as ho walked
away, and the laughter of the Federal
troopers was in no sense a balm for his
ruffled prido.
It was noon before the stores were
destroyed and the list of prisoners completed.
Then came an alarm. Colonel
Mosby, who has been dubbed "The
Bandit of the Potomac," but who was
as regularly commissioned as any officer
In the Confederate array, appeared in
the neighborhood with about 900 men,
and before he was driven off and the
prisoners wore ready to start down tho
valley under guard it was midafternoon.
"Yank, I've been thinkin this thing
over," said Stevo Brayton to Kenton as
they moved off. "and I jest tell yo' we
ar' in a fix. We hain't neither Federals
nor Confeds any mo'!"
"How do you mean?"
"iviiu if wo nnn wtjiv vorp. we'll bo
f?iV? " " " """ ""V J ? ? -held
prisoners fur goodness knows how
long, and if we git back to tho Confederacy
the major will mnko it hot fur
us. Say, yo'! I don't know what yo'ro
thinkin of jest this very minit, but I
want to ask yo' a straight question."
"Go ahead."
"Yo' won't git mad?"
"No."
"Waal, then, don't yo' como pnriy
nigh bein soft in tho head? We mis
don't want j-o' on our side,and the Yanks
hanker to shoot at yo' every show they
git. If wo uns don't want yo', what do
yo' want to stay fur? If yo' don't want
to fight agin us, why don't yo' sorter
drop out of tho hull bizness and let go
liko a coon fallin from n limb?"
TO IIK CONTINL'K!) NKXT WKKK.
Treatment For Fulntlni;.
Although fainting is not common in
children, young girls may be subject to
such attacks. When one faints, it is
owing to a temporary weak action of tho
heart, so that sufficient blood is not
pumped up the brain to maintain consciousness.
The face becomes very pale,
and the extremities are cold. Usually
all that is necessary is to place the person
flat on her back, which will ease the
action of the heart, while gravitation
aids in restoring the proper amount of
blood to the brain. Never allow a fainting
person to maintain an upright or
sitting position, as death has thus resulted
from sudden heart failure. Sprinkling
a few drops of cold water upon the
face and cautiously holding spirits of
hartshorn under the nose will aid, by reflex
action, in restoring the functions of
tuart and brain. Cold water should
never be poured upon a fainting person,
and everything beyond tho tirst shock is
depressing and should hence be avoided.
iUtsfcUanrous grading.
OUR POLITICAL CHART.
thi: cossriTvrioy or rui: or. mo.
atatic i'jitry.
Adopted nt Columbia on the tot It of September,
1890, anil Amenileil September
31, 1893.
Article 1. There shall be one or
more Democratic clubs organized in
' * ? 1 1. -T ...L.'.t.
eacn lownsmp or warn, eacn 01 which
clubs shall have a distinct title, "The
Democratic Club," and shall
elect a president, one or more vice
presidents, a recording and a corres,
sponding secretary, and a treasurer,
and shall have the following working
j committees, of not less than three
| members each, viz: A committee on
j registration, an executive committee,
and such other committees as to each
club may seem expedient.
Art. 2. The meetings of the clubs
i should be frequent after the opening
of the canvass, and some member of the
club or invited speaker deliver an address
at each meeting, if practicable.
Art. 3. The president shall have
power to call un extra meeting of the
club, and one fourth of the members
shall constitute a quorum for the transaction
of business.
Art. 4. The club in each county
' shall be held together and operate under
the control of a county executive
! committee, which shall consist of one
member from each club, to be elected
| by the respective clubs, but these pow1
ers to the suit! executive committees
; do not curry with them the power to
pass upon the election of members of
the county convention, or their qualification
to sit as members, for this
! power belongs to the members of the
convention through the appointment
and action of a committee on credentials,
whose report shall be acted upon
i as the members of the convention may
deem proper. The executive committee,
when elected, shall appoint its own
olfieers, who shall not necessarily be
members of said committee, and fill all
vacancies which may arise when the
j convention is not in session; provided
that any odicer so elected, who is not a
i member of the committee, shall not be
j entitled to a vote on any question,
| except the chairman, and then only in
i case of a lie vote. The tenure of office
of the executive committee shall be uni
til the 1 ^ Monday in August of each
election year, at which time the county
convention shall be called together
i to reorganize the party. Every presidential
year the county convention
; shall be called by the county executive
committee in May, and shall elect
delegates to a State convention called
i for the purpose of electing delegates \
| to the National convention and toelect J
the member of the national Democrat- |
ic executive committee for this State,
j and such State convention shall exercise
110 other power. This State con- I
vention shall be called by the State
executive committee to meet every
presidential election year on the 3rd
Wednesday in May, and the State
Democratic nominating convention
shall be called by the State Democratic '
; execlive committee to meet on the 3rd
Wednesday of September of each year. '
Art. 5. County Democratic conven- j
| tions shall be composed of delegates j
I elected by the several local clubs, one
J delegate for every twenty-five voters, j
as shown by the poll list made at the {
| pi seeding first primurj election, and j
I one delegate for a majority fraction j
I thereof, with the right to each county '
! convention to enlarge or diminish the j
j representation according to circum- |
stunces. The county convention shall
I be culled together by the chairman of
the respective executive committees |
uuder such rule, not inconsistent with
1 the constitution nor with the rules
adopted by the State Democratic executive
committee, as each county may
adopt, and when assembled shall be
called to order by the chairman of the
executive committee, and the convention
shall proceed to nominate and (
elect from among its members a president,
one or more vice-presidents, a
! secretary and a treasurer. The clubs I
I recognized by the respective county
conventions which sent delegates to :
the State convention which met on
August 13, 1890, shall be recognized
as the only legal clubs: Provided,
however, That any county convention
may permit the formation of a new
club or clubs by a majority voie ui us
members. Provided, further, that in
all cities with a population of 5,000
and over, there may he two clubs in
j each ward ; they shall be organized in
obedience to this constitution, as are
the clubs elsewhere in this State, and
, in organizing said clubs they shall
have representation in the county
conventions, respectively, as said conj
ventions shall declare in accordance
with the provisions of this constitu- J
1 tion.
Art. 0. The nominating convention
for the nomination of governor, lieutenant
governor and other State olli;
cers, in 181)2 and thereafter, and for
electors for president and vice president
in the same year and every presij
deutial year thereafter, shall he com- !
posed of delegates from each county,
double the number to which such
j counties are entitled in both branches j
of the general assembly. Said dele- j
gates to he chosen by primary elections
to he held on the last Tuesday in
I August of each election year; the del- J
; egale elected to receive a majority of
! tiie votes cast. At this election only
white Democrats shall he allowed to
vote, except those Negroes who voted
for General Hampton in 1870 and who
have voted the Democratic ticket
continuously since, may he allowed to
j vote. The club rolls of the party
shall constitute the registry list and
shall he open to inspection by any
member of the party and the election
under this clause shall he held and
I regulated under the act of the general
assembly of this State, approved
i December 22, 1888, and any subse
- i * * - r * K:..
quent acts of tlie legislature 01 uu?
State. Second primaries, when necessary,
shall be held two weeks later.
Art. 7. Theollicers of the State convention
shall be a president, a vice
president from each congressional
district, two secretaries and a treasurer.
| Art. S. The State executive committee
shall he composed of one member
from each county, to be selected by
j the respective delegations and elected
I by the convention. When elected, said
executive committee shall choose its
own oHicers, not necessarily members
thereof, prior to said election. Provided,
That any olliecr so elected who is
not a member of the committee, shall
not be entitled to a vote on any question,
except the chairman. The execi
utive committee shall meet at the call
| of the chairman or any live members,
and at such time and place as they
may appoint. The member of the
| National Democratic executive committee
from South Carolina shall be
elected by the May State convention
! in 1S!)2, and every four years thereafter,
and when elected shall be ex-ollicio
. a member of the State executive committee.
Vacancies on said executive
committee by death, resignation or otherwise,
shall be tilled by the respective
I county executive committee. The State
executive committee is charged with
- i I? _? .l.?
tlie execution aim uirecnon ui im.- jiuiiey
of this party in the State, subject
to this constitution, the principles declared
in the platform of principles,
I and such instructions by resolution or
otherwise, as a State convention may
from time to time adopt, and shall continue
in ollice for two years from the
I time of election or until the assembling
j of the State nominating convention
which meets in September of each election
year. If any vacancy occur on the
State ticket or for electors, by death,
. removal or other cause, the committee
shall haye the power to till the vacancy
by a majority vote of the whole
committee.
Art. 9. When the State convention
assembles it shall be called to order by
the chairman of the State executive
committee. A temporary president
shall he nominated and elected by the
convention, and after its organization
the convention shall proceed immediately
to the election of permanent
l officers and to the transaction ofbusij
ness. When the business has been
concluded it shall adjourn sine die.
Art. 10. There shall be a primary
election in each congressional district
in this .State on the last Tuesday in
August, 1892, and every two years
thereafter, to nominate candidates for
i congress, to be conducted and managed
as is hereinafter provided in the
' election of delegates to the State convention.
The vote to be received,
tabulated and announced by the State
executive committee to the chairman
of which the result is to be transmitted
by the respective county chairmen by
I the first Tut&day in September, 1892,
and every two years thereafter. The
election for solicitors of the different
1 circuits shall be by primary, subject to
the same rules and regulations, and to
be announced in the same way as bci
fore set forth for congressmen.
Art. 11. Before the election in 1892,
and each election year thereafter, the
| State Democratic Executive commit
tee shall issue a call to all candidates
for State offices to address the people
of the different counties of the State,
fixing the dates of the meetings, and
also invitimr the candidate for con
gross, United States senate, delegates
to the State convention, and for solicii
tor, in their respective districts and
| circuits, to be present and address the
people. At such meetings only the
caniiidates above set forth shall he
allowed to speak.
Art. 12. It shall be the duty of each
county executive committee to appoint
meetings in their respective counties,
| to he addressed by the candidates for
the general assembly and for the different
county offices, all of whom excepting
triul justices and inastcis,
shall be elected by primary on the
last Tuesday in August of each election
year under the same rules and
regulations hereinbefore provided.
Art. 13. Each county delegation to a
I State convention shall have power to
till any vacancy therein.
Art. 14. This constitution may he
! amended and altered only by the State
| nominating convention which meets in
September of each election year.
Art. 15. Any county failing or refusing
to organize under the provisions
of this constitution shall not have representation
in the State Democratic
convention. J. L. M.Irby,^
Chairman State Detn. Ex. Com.
1). H. Tompkins, Secretary.
Interesting Facts on Money.?
It is interesting to know that while the
United Stales is one of the richest
countries in the world, its stock ol gold
and silver money is not by any means
so large as that of France, which has
more metallic money than any other
nation. The gold coins of the world
are equal in value to $3,582,605,000,
and the silver coins to $4,042,700,000,
while the paper money has a face value
of $2,635,873,000. Of this vast amount
France has $800,000,000 worth of gold
and $700,000,000 worth of silver ; the
United States, $604,000,000 worth of
gold and $615,000,000 worth of silver,
and Great Britain, $550,000,000 worth
of gold and $1,000,000,000 worth of silver.
Germany has $600,000,000 worth
of gold coin and $211,000,000 worth of
silver, while Russia, with a much largei
population, has $250,000,000 worth of
cold and $60,000,000 worth of silver
coin. She has, however, $500,000,000
worth of paper money, while South
America keeps in circulation $600,000,000
worth, the United States $412,000,000,
Austria $260,000,000, Italy
$163,000,000, Germany $107,000,000,
France $81,000,000, and Great Britain
$50,000,000. If the gold coins
of the United States were divided
into equal shares, each person would
have about $9. Following the same
plan, every Euglish man, woman
and child would have ubout $14.50,
every German about $12, every Russian
about $2.25 and every Frenchman about
$20. The ratio for all kinds of money
would still leave the Frenchman the
richest man in the world, for if all the
gold, silver and paper money in h ranee
were shared eqally, he would have
$40 50, while the citizen of the United
States would have $24.50, the residents
of Austria, Holland and Belgium a
little more, the Englishman $13.50 and
the Russian only $7.16.
The Child was Lost.?There was
a crowd on Fourth avenue the other
day. It was gathered about a little
girl and a dog. There was a couple
of policeman, a half dozen women and
a dozen men. The little girl was lost.
The policemen knew it, the women
knew it, the crowd knew it, and the
little girl herself knew it. Now the
problem everyone was trying to solve
was where the little girl belonged.
That neither the policemen, the women,
the crowd, nor the little girl knew.
"Where do you live?" asked a policeman.
.
The little girl looked up in a Inglitened
way and shook her head.
"Poor little dear?where does your
mother live?" asked one of the woI
men, thinking to get at the problem
in a round about way.
Still the little girl shook her head.
Finally a newsboy appeared on the
I scene. He eyed the assemblage contemptuously.
"Here," he said to the dog, "go
home, sir." 011" started the dog, the
little girl hanging on to his shaggy
coat and the crowd following behind.
Down fourth avenue a few blocks,
around the corner straight into the
arms of an anxious woman, who looked
half frightened to death, and who
took the little girl in her arms and
hugged and kissed her. The dog went
quietly into the house, the newsboy
disappeared, the policemen and the
crowd went away and it was all over.
The moral of which is?nothing at
all.?New York Recorder.
?
l'ROl'KK SlTK FOR A IIolSE.?The
site of a house should receive the careful
attention of the tenant, purchaser,
or of one proposing to build. A good
site may mean life and happiness, and
a had one disease, suffering and death.
1. It should be dry; avoid, as you
| would death, a damp location. In a
town or city, carefully ascertain whether
or not it is on ' made ground."
Avoid it. Avoid ground underlaid
with clay, for it will always be damp.
2. Klevatcd on a hillside or gentle
knoll, never in a hollow. The hillside
is warmer and drier than the
hollow. .
3. Not close to a swamp, slow river,
j mill dam, or land which is overflowed
a portion of the year, nor in such a
place that the prevailing winds will
bring to the house pestilence from a
?: 11.1
IIlllllllllU, i'lt.
4. In as good a neighborhood as
possible, away from factories, saloons,
I etc., and near schools and churches.
f>. In a village or town build on as
large a lot as possible, thus securing
air and sunlight. Build hack from the
street, thus avoiding the dust of the
1 dry season and the curious gaze of
every passer. Secure a yard in which
trees and plants will furnish both exercise
and health.
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