Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, December 04, 1903, Image 1
(
ISSUED SEMI-WEEKL^
l. m. grist's sous, Pabii?hM?. j % ^antitg $tutfattr: <0or the {promotion of the floHtital, ?otial, g.gricnltaral, and Cotnmnrial Interests of the fooplt- { tbr*8i"mom?wpt^ ?ro crowf1108'
E8TABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE, S. O., FBIDAY, DECEMBER 4, 1903. NO. 97.
?????????????
I WHEN KNI
!WAS IN
Or, The Love Story of Charles Brandon
Happening In the Reign of His Auf
Rewritten and (tendered Into I
Ctakoden'
By EDWIN CASKODE
Copyright, 1898 and 1901, by t
THE CASKODENS.
e Caskodens take great pride
iu our ancestry. Some pergjrgs
sous. I know, hold ull that to
WSS0SZ3B oe Toiuiiy uii-aoiomomute anu
tue height of vanity, but tbey usually
bave no ancestors of whom to be
proud. The man who does uot know
who his great-grandfather was naturally
enough would not care what he
was. The Cnskodens have pride of ancestry
because they know both who
and what.
We have a right to be proud, for
there is an unbroken male line from
William the .Conqueror down to the
present time. In this lineal list are
fourteen barons?the title lapsed when
Charles I. fell?twelve Knights of the
Garter and forty-seven Knights of the
Bath and other orders. A Caskoden
distinguished himself by gallant service
under the great Norman and was
given rich English lands and a fair
Saxon bride, albeit an unwilling one,
as his reward. With this fair, unwilling
Saxon bride and her long plait of
yellow hair goes a very pretty, pathetic
story, which I may tell you at some future
?time if you take kindly to this.
A Caskoden was seneschal to William
Kufus and sat at the rich, half, barbaric
banquets in the first great hall.
Still another was one of the doughty
barons who wrested from John the
great charter, England's declaration of
independence; another was high in the
councils of Henry V. I have omitted
one whom I should not fail to mention,
Adjodika Caskoden, who was a
member of the dunce parliament of
Henry IV., so called because there
were no lawyers in it
It is true that in the time of Edward
IV. a Caskoden did stoop to trade, but
it was trade of the most dignified, honorable
sort?he was a goldsmith, and
his guild, as you know, were the bankers
and international clearance house
for people, kings and nobles.
Now, it has been the custom of the
Caskodens for centuries to keep a rec
ord of events as tney nave nappeucu,
both private and public. Some are in
the form of diaries and Journals, like
those of Pepys and Evelyn; others in
letters, like the Pastons'; others, again, in
verse and song, like Chaucer's and the
Water Poet's, at?* still others in the
more pretentious form of memoir and
chronicle. These records we always
have kept jealously within our family,
thinking it vulgar, like the Pastons, to
submit our private affairs to public
gaze.
There can, however, be no reason why
those parts treating solely of outside
matters should be so carefully guarded,
and I have determined to choose for
publication such portions as do not divulge
family secrets or skeletons, and
which really redound to family honor.
For this occasion I have selected
from the memoir of my worthy ancestor
and namesake. Sir Edwin Caskoden,
grandson of the goldsmith and master
of the dance to Henry VIII., the story
of Charles Brandon and Mary Tudor,
sister to the king.
This story is so well known to the
student of English history that I fear
its repetition will lack that zest which
attends the development of an unforeseen
denouement, but it is of so great
interest and is so full in Its sweet, fierce
manifestation of the one thing insoluble
by time?love?that I will neverthei
1*? ?1,1 C<? Tr>Ti7ir.'Q
1C55 rcvviuc At 11VUJ V1U wit
memoir.
CHAPTER I.
TIIE DUEL.
ST7 T sometimes happens. Sir Ed;g1
Jl win says, that when a woman
KjSg will she won't and when she
sSSJ won't she will, but usually in
the end the adage holds good. That
sentence may not be luminous with
meaning, but I will give you an illustration.
1 think it was in the spring of 1509?
at any rate, soon after the death of the
Modem Solomon, as Queen Catherine
called her old father-in-law. the late
King Ilenry VII.?that his august majesty
Henry VIII.. "the vndubitate flower
and very Heire of both the sayd Linages,"
came to the throne of England
and tendered me the honorable position
of master of the dance at his sumptuous
court.
As to "worldly goods," as some of
the new religionists call wealth, I was
very comfortably off. having inherited
from my fatlier. one or tue counselors
of Henry VII., a very competent fortune
indeed. How my worthy father
contrived to save from the greedy
hand of that rich old miser so great a
fortune I am sure I cannot tell. He
was the only man of my knowledge
who did it. for the old king had a reach
us long as the kingdom, and. upon one
pretext or another, appropriated to
himself everything on which he could
iay his hands. My father, however,
was himself pretty shrewd in money
matters, having inherited along with
Ms fortune a rare knack at keeping it.
His father was a goldsmith in the time
of King Edward and enjoyed the marked
favor of that puissant prince.
lleing thus in a position of affluence,
I cared nothing for the fact that little
or no emolument went with the office.
It was the honor which delighted me.
liesides, I was thereby an inmate of
the king's palace and brought into intimate
relations with the court, and,
above all. with the finest ladies of the
land?the best company a man can
keep, since it ennobles his mind with
IGHTHOOD i ;
FLOWER |
i and Mary Tudor, the King's Sister, and I
just Majesty King Henry the Eighth Sf? I
lodern English From Sir Edwia X ]
' Memoir ^
N [CHARLES MAJOR] 4
he Boxren-MerriU Company
better thoughts, purines bis heart with ,
cleaner motives and makes him gentle
without detracting from his strength.
It was an office any lord of the king
dom might have been proud to hold. ,
Now, some four or five years after (
my Induction into this honorable office
there came to court news of a terrible
duel fought down In Suffolk, out of
which only one of the four combatants ,
had come alive- two, rather, but one of |
them in a condition worse than death.
The first survivor was a son of Sir
William Brandon, and the second was ,
a man called Sir Adam Judson. The
story went that young Brandon and
his elder brother, both just home from
the continental wars, had met Judson ,
at an Ipswich inn, where there had been <
considerable gambling among them. (
Judson had won from the brothers a
large sum of money which they had (
brought home, for. notwithstanding
their youth, the elder being but twen- |
ty-six and the younger about twenty- ,
four years of age, they had gained j
great honor and considerable profit in
wars, especially the younger, whose
pame was Charles. ,
It is a little hard to fight for money
aud then to lose It by a single spot upon
the die, but such is the fate of him
who plays, and a philosopher will swal- (
low his ill luck and take to fighting for
I more. The Brandons could have done ,
this easily enough, especially Charles,
who was an offhand philosopher, rather
fond o? a good humored fight, had it not
been that In the course of play one
evening the secret of Judson's winning
had been disclosed by a discovery that
he cheated. The Brandons waited until
they were sure, aud then trouble <
began, which resulted In a duel on the ,
second morning following.
This Judson was a Scotch gentleman >
of whom very little was known except ]
that he was counted the most deadly i
and most cruel duelist of the time. He ]
was called the "Walking Death," and |
it Is said he took pride lu the appella- \
tion. He boasted that he had fought <
eighty-seven duels, in which he had ]
killed seventy-five men, and it Was con- ,
sldered certain death to meet- him. I |
got the story of the duel afterward
from Brandon as I give it here.
John was the elder brother aud when
the challenge came was entitled to fight
first, a birthright out of which Charles
tried in vain to talk him. The brothers
told their father, Sir William Brandon.
aud at the appointed time father ,
and sous repaired to the place of meet- ,
ing. where they found Judson and his }
two seconds ready for the fight. 1
Sir William was still a vigorous mau. ,
with few equals lu sword play, and the }
sons, especially the younger, were bet- j
ter men and more skillful than their father
had ever been, yet they felt that (
this due! meant certain death, so great
was Judson's fame for skill and cruel- ,
ty. Notwithstanding they were so hand- '
Icapped with this feeling of impending j
evil, they met their duty without a ?
tremor, for the uiotto of their house
Was "Malo Mori Quarn Fedrai."
It was a misty morning in March. ,
Brando!) has told me since that when |
his elder brother took his stand It was ]
at once manifest that he was Judson's (
superior both in strength and skill, but ,
afttr a few strokes the brother's blade ,
bent double and broke off short at the ,
hilt when it should have gone home.
Thereupon Judson, with a malignant
smile of triumph, deliberately selected
his opponent's heart and pierced it with
his sword, giving the blade a twist as
he drew it out in order to cut and mutilate
the more.
In an Instant Sir William's doublet
was off. and he was in his dead son's
tracks, ready to avenge him or to die.
i
y _
"f'iy/it, you bloodhound!"
Again tlie thrust which should have
killed broke the sword, and the father
died as the son had died.
After this came young Charles, expecting.
but so great was his strong 1
heart, not one whit fearing, to lie be- (
side his dead father and brother. He 1
knew lie was the superior of both in
strength and skill, and his knowledge
of men and the noble art told him they 1
had each been the superior of Judson,
but the fell >w's hand seemed to be the
hand of ? eath. An opening came '
through Ju'. son's unskillful play which '
6ave young Brandon an opportunity '
for a thrust to kill, but his blade, like
his father's and his brother's, bent 1
double without penetrating. Unlike i
the others, however, it did not break, <
and the thrust revealed the fact that <
Judsou's skill as a duelist lay in a shirt !
of mail which it was useless to try i
to pierce. Aware of Oils, UranOOB 1
knew that victory wus his and that
soon he would have avenged the murders
that had gone before. He saw
that his adversary was strong neither
In wind nor arm and had not the skill
to penetrate his guard In a week's try- i
Lng. so he determined to fight on the j
defensive until Judson's strength ,
Should wane, and then kill him when
and how he chose.
After a time Judson began to breathe
hard and his thrusts to lack force.
"Boy, I would spare you," he said, i
"I have killed enough of your tribe.
Put up your sword and call It quits." 1
Young Brandon replied: "Stand your
ground, you coward. You will be a (
dead man as soon as you grow a little
weaker. If you try to run, I will
thrust you through the neck as I
would a cur. Listen how you snort. I 1
shall soon have you. You are almost
tjone. You would spare me, would you?
1 could preach a sermon ^or dance a
hnminlno while I am killing VOU. I 1
will not break my sword against your
coat of mail, but will wait until you
full from weakness, and then? Fight,
j*ou bloodhound!"
Judson was pale from exhaustion,
and his breath was coming in gasps as
he tried to keep the merciless sword
from his throat. At last, by a dexterous
twist of his blade, Brandon sent Judson's
sword flying thirty fret away.
The fellow started to run. but turned
and fell upon his knees to beg for life.
Brandon's reply was a flashing circle
of steel, and his sword point cut lengthwise
through Judson's eyes and the
bridge of his nose, leaving him sightless
and hideous for life?a revenge compared
to which death would have been
merciful.
The duel created a sensation throughout
the kingdom, for, although little
was known as to who Judson was, his
fame as a duelist was as broad as the
laud. Flo had been at court upon several
occasions, and at one time, upon
the king's birthday, had fought in the
royal lists. So the matter came in for
Its share of consideration by king and
courtiers, and young Brandon became
a person of interest. He became still
more so when some gentlemen who had
served with liirn in the continental wars
told the court of his daring and bravery
and related stories of deeds at arms
worthy of the best knight in Christendom.
He had an uncle at the court, Sir
Thomas Brandon, the king's master of
borse. who thought it a good opportunity
to put his nephew forward and let
bim take his chance at winning royal
favor. The uncle broached the subject
to the king, with favorable Issue, and
Charles Brandon, led by the hand of
fate, came to London court, where that
same fate had In keeping for him events
mch as seldom fall to the lot of man.
CHAPTER IL
HOW BRANDON CAME TO COURT.
\Tr HEN we learned that Brandon
YY was coming to court, every
one believed he would soon
eaeaHl gain the king's favor. How
much that would amount to none could
tell, as the king's favorites were of
many sorts and taken from all conditions
of men. There was Master Woliey,
a butcher's son, whom he had first
made almoner, then chief counselor and
bishop of Lincoln, soon to be bishop of
York and cardinal of the holy Roman
church. ,
From the other extreme of Ufe came
poung Thomas, Lord Howard, heir to
the Earl of Surrey, and my Lord of
Buckingham, premier peer of the realm,
rhen sometimes would the king take
i yeoman of the guard and make him
bis companion in jousts and tournaments
solely because of his brawn and
bone. There were others whom he
kept close by him in the palace because
of their wit and the entertainment
they furnished, of which class
was I. and. I flatter myself, no mean
member.
To beein with, beimr in no way de
pendent on tlie king for money, I never
irew a farthing from the royal treasury.
This, you may be sure, did me no
rami, for, although the king sometimes
ielighted to give, he always hated to
pay. There were .other good reasons,
too. why I should be a favorite with
the king.
My appointment as master of the
iance, 1 am swe. was owing entirely
to my manner. My brother, the baron,
who stood high with the king, was not
friendly toward me because my father
had seen tit to bequeath me so good a
competency in place of giving it all to
the firstborn and leaving me dependent
upon the tender mercies of an elder
brother. So I had no help from him
uor from any one else. I ,was quite
amall of stature and therefore unable
to compete with lance and mace with
bulkier men, but I would bet with any
man, of any size, on any game, at any
place and time, in any amount, and, if
[ do say it, who perhaps should not. I
basked In the light of many a fair
amile which larger men had sighed for
In vain.
1 did not know when Brandon first
came to London. We had all remained
at Greenwich while the king went up
to Westminster to waste his time with
matters of state and quarrel with the
parliament, then sitting, over the
amount of certain subsidies.
Mary, the king's sister, then some
eighteen or nineteen years of age, a
perfect bud, just blossomiug into a per
rect riower, nua gone over 10 winusor
011 a visit to her elder sister, Margaret
of Scotland, and the palace was dull
enough. Brandon, It seems, had been
presented to Henry during this time at
Westminster and had, to some extent
at least, become a favorite before I
met him. The first time I saw him was
at a Joust given bv the king at Westminster
in celebration of the fact that
le had coaxed a good round subsidy
rat of parliament.
The queen and her ladles had been inrited
over, and It was known that Mary
would be down from Windsor and
rame home with the king and the court
to Greenwich when we should return.
So we all went over to Westminster the
aight before the Jousts and_were up
bright and early next morning to see all
that was to be seen.
[Here the editor sees fit to substitute
a description of this tournament taken
from the quaint old chronicler Hall.]
The morow beyng after dynner, at tyme
eonuenenlent, the Quene with her Ladyea
repaired to see the lustes, the trompettes
brew vp. and in came many a noble man
and Gentlema, rychely appcareiled, takynge
vp thlr horses, after whome folowed
certr.yne lordes apparelled, they and thlr
horses, In cloth Of Qolde and russet and
tynsell; Knyghtes In cloth of Qolde, and
russet Veluet. And a greate nomber of
Gentlemen on fote, In russet satyn and
yealow, and yomen in russet Damaske
and yealow, all the nether parte of euery
mans hosen Skarlet, and yealow cappes.
nnmn the kvnee vndsp a PAuilinn
of golde, and purpul Veluet embroudefed,
the compass of the Pauillon about, and
valenced with a flat, gold beaten in wyre,
with an Imperial! croune in the top, of
fyne Golde, his bases and trapper of cloth
of Golde, fretted with Damask Golde, tha
trapper pedant to the tall. A crane and
chafron of stele, in the front of the chafro
was a goodly plume set full of musers or
trlmbllng spangles of golde. After folowed
his three aydes, euery of them vnder
a Pauillon of CrymoByn Damaske & purple.
The nomber of Gentlemen-and yomen
a fote, apparelled In russet and yealow
was clxvill. Then next these Pauilions
came xll chyldren of honor, sitting euery
one of them on a greate courser, rychely
trapped, and embroudered In seuerall
deulses and facions, where lacked neither
brouderle nor goldsmythes work, so that
euery chyld and horse In deulce and
fasclon was contrary to the other, which
wsb goodly to beholde.
Then on the counter parte, entered a
Straunger, fyrst on horsebacke In a long
robe of Russet satyne, like a recluse or a
religious, and his horse trapped In the
same sewte. without dromme or noyse of
mynstrelsye, puttlnge a byll of petlclon to
the Quene, the effect whereof was, that if
it would please her to license hym to
runne In her presence, be -would do It
gladly, and If not, then he would departs
as he came. After his request was
graunted, then he put off hys sayd habyte
and was armed at all peces with ryche
bases & horse, also rychely trapped, and
so did runne Mr horse to the tylte end,
where dicurs men on fote apparelled in
Russet satyn awaited on him. Thereupon
the Heraolda cryed an Oyes! and the
grownd shoke with the trompe of rushynge
stedes. Wonder it were to write of
place, where a man might haue seen many
a horse raysed on blghe with galop, turno
and stoppe, maruaylous to behold. C.xlv
staves were broke and the kynge being
lusty, he and the straunger toke the
prices.
When the queen had given the stranger
permission to run, and as he moved
away, there was a great clapping of
hands und waving of trophies among
the ladies, for he was of such noble
mien and comely face as to attract the
gaze of every one away from even the
glittering person of his majesty the
king.
His hair, worn in jits natural length,
fell in brown curls Back from his forehead
almost to th^ shoulder, a style
just theu new, even in France. His
eyes were a deep blue, and his complexion.
though browned by exposure,
held a tinge of beaqty which the sun
could not mar and g girl ihigbt envy.
He wore neither mustachlo nor beard,
as men now disfigure their faces?
since Francis 1. took a scar on his chin
?and his clear cut profile, dilating
nostrils and mobile though firm set
mouth gave pleasing assurance of
tenderness, gentleness, daring and
strength.
I was standing near the queen, who
called to me, "Who is the handsome
stranger that so gracefully asked our
license to run?"
"I cannot Inform your majesty. I
never saw him until now. He is the
goodliest knight I have ever beheld."
"That he is," replied the queen, "and
we should like very much to know him.
Should we not, ladles?" There was a
chorus of asseut from a dozen voices,
and I promised, after the running, to
leurn nil about kim and report.
It was at this point the heralds cried
their "Oyez!" and our conversation was
at an eud for the time.
As to height, the stranger was full
six feet, with ample evidence of muscle.
though no great bulk. He was
grace Itself, and the king afterward
said he had never seen such strength
of arm and skill In the use of the lance
?a sure harbinger of favor, If not of
fortune, for the possessor.
After the jousting the Princess Mary
asked me If I could yet give her an account
of the stranger, and as I could
not she went to the king.
I heard her Inquire:
"Who was your companion, brother?"
"That is a secret, sister. You will
find out soon enough and will be falling
in love with him, no doubt. I have always
looked upon you as full of trouble
for ine in that respect. You will not
so much as glance at any one I choose
for you, but, I suppose, would be ready
enough with your smiles for some one
I should not want."
"Is the stranger one whom you would
not want?" asked Mary, with a dimpling
smile and a dash of her brown
eyes.
"He most certainly is," returned the
king.
"Then I will fall In iove with him at
once. In fact, I don't know but I have
already."
"Oh, I have no doubt of that. If I
wanted him. he might be Apollo himself,
and you would have none of him."
King Henry bad been compelled to refuse
several very advantageous alliances
because this fair, coaxing, self
Wlliea 81SttT wuuiu uui luuceiii iu uc a
part of the moving consideration.
"But can you not tell me who he is
and what his degree?" went on Mary
In u bantering tone.
"He has no degree. He is a plain, untitled
soldier, not even a knight?that
is, not an English knight. I think he
has a German or Spanish order of some
sort."
"Not a duke, not an earl, not even a
baron or knight? Now be has become
Interesting."
"Yes, 1 suppose so. But don't bother
me."
"Will he be at the dance and banquet
tonight?" N
"No! No! Now I must go. Don't
bother me, I say!" And the king moved
away.
That night we had a grand banquet
and dance at Westmfcnster, and the
next day we all, excepting Lady Mary,
went back to Greenwich by boat, paying
a farthing a head for our fare. This
was just after the law] fixing the boat
rare, ana tne watermen were a quarreling
lot, you may be sure. One farthing
from Westminster to Greenwich! Eight
miles. No wonder they were angry!
The next day I went back to London
on an errand and over to Wolsey's house
to borrow a book. While there Master
Cavendish, Wolsey's secretary, presented
me to the handsome stranger, and
he proved to be no other than Charlea
Brandon, who had fought the terrible
duel down in Suffolk. I could hardly
believe that so mild mannered and boyish
a person could have taken the leading
part In such a tragedy. But with
all his gentleness there was an underlying
dash of cool daring which Intimated
plainly enough that he was not all mildness.
We became friends at once, drawn together
by that subtle human quality
which makes one nature fit Into anotb
gxgpgg; i
"Don't bother me, I 8ayP'
er, resulting la friendship between men
and love between men and women. We
soon found that we had many tastes In
common, chief among which was the
strongest of all congenial bonds?the
love of books. In fact, we had come to
know each other through our common
love of reading, for he also had gone to
Master Cavendish, who had a due library,
to borrow some volumes to take
with him down to Greenwich.
Brandon informed me he was to go
to Greenwich that day; so we determined
to see a little of London, which was
new to him, and then take boat In time
to be at the palace before dark.
That evening, upon arriving at Greenwich,
we hunted up Brandon's uncle,
the master of horse, who Invited his
nephew to stay with him for the night
He refused, however, and accepted an
lnvitution to take a bdd in my roam.
The next day Brandon was installed
as one of the captains of the king's
guard, under his uncle, but with no
particular duties except such as should
be assigned him from time to time.- He
was offered a good room on one of the
lower floors, but asked Instead to be
lodged in the attic next to me. So we
arranged that each had a room opening
into a third that served us alike far
drawing room and armory.
Here we sat and talked, and now and
then one would read aloud some favorite
pussage while the other kept his
own place with finger between the
leaves. Here we discussed everything
from court scandal to religion, and settled,
to our own satisfaction at least,
many a great problem with which the
foolish world Is still wrestling.
,Tr - A- * "t- nil nnnt?Afo
W e iu1u i'ul'u uluci an uiu ocvieu, ew,
for all the world like a pair of girls.
Brandon told me of his hopes and aspirations.
chief among which was his desire
to earn and save enough money to
pay the debt against his father's estate.
which he had turned over to his
younger brother and sisters. He, as
the eldest, could have taken It all, for
his father had died without a will, bat
he said there was not enough to divide,
so he had given it to them and hoped to
leave It clear of debt; then for new
Spain, glory and fortune, conquest and
yellow gold! He had read of the voyages
of the great Columbus, the Cabots
and a host of others, and the future
was as rosy as a Cornish girl's cheek.
Fortune held up her Hps to him, but?
there's often a sting in a kiss.
Note by the Editor.?Sir Edwin Caskoden's
history differs in some minor details
from other authorities of the time. Hall's
chronicle says Sir William Brandon, father
of Charles, had the honor of being
killed by the hand of Richard III. himself
at Bosworth Field, and the points
wherein his account of Charles Brandon's
life differs from that of Sir Edwin may
be gathered from the index to the 1548
edition of that work, which Is as follows:
Charles Brandon. Esquire, is made
knight, created Viscount Lysle, made
duke of Suffolke, goeth to Paris to the
Iustes, doeth valiantly there, returneth
Into England, he Is sent into Fraunce to
fetch home the French quene into Eng
land. He maryetn ner. ana so on uniu ne
dyeth and Is buryed at Wyndesore.
No mention la made In any of the chronicles
of the office of master of dance. In
all other essential respects Sir Edwin Is
corroborated by his contemporaries.
to be continued.
The Soldier's Idle Time.?Military
life is necessarily made up largely of
loafing. You cannot keep a man continuously
at drilling, marching or any
other branch of military training for
eight hours a day and five or six days
a week. You have to invent a great
many other jobs for him, even to make
a pretence of keeping him oocupled.
But these jobs are nearly all "loafing"
jobs, and when it is all done the soldier
has a great many more idle hours on
his hands per diem than any other man
in the same rank of life. I do not know
whether it is possible to arrive at any
remedy for this, but, if it Is, the direction
in which I should look for the remedy
would be to make every soldier
work at some other trade for a certain
number of hours each day. The number
of hours might be shorter in the
summer, when there is more opportunity
for training and military exercise,
and longer In the winter. If this were
practicable, no doubt it would make an
enormous difference to the value of the
soldier as a citizen when he leaves the
ranks.?London Truth.
Sttisccttaneous Reading.
GOVERNMENT 8TATI3TIC8.
Cotton Ginned From Crop* of 1903 and
Other Information.
The census bureau on last "Wednesday
Issued a report on the quantity of
cotton ginned from the growth of 1903
up to and Including November 14th,
showing total commercial bales of 7,070,437.
Of these 6,519,332 were square bales
and 510,556 sea Island crop bales. There
were 29,506 ginneries operated this sea- 1
son up to and including November 14th. t
The cotton ginned In 1902, as report- ?
ed by the census bureau was 5,925,872
commercial bales up to October 18, and
9,311,835 commercial bales up to December
13. Counting round bales, the
number this year is 6,815,162. In this
report no account has been taken of the
quantity of llnters obtained by the
cotton seed oil mills from reginnlng
cotton seed of this year's growth, but
statistics of such cotton will be included
In the final report for the season.
This report will be followed by two
others, showing the quantity of cotton
ginned from the growth of this year to
December 13, 1903, and to Janaury 16,
1904.
No estimates are given of the amount
remaining unglnned. The census
agents were asked to submit these
estimates, but the census bureau has
not even computed them as returned,
turning them over to the bureau of
statistics of the department of agriculture
to aid that office in the annual
estimate of the cotton crop to be issued
tomorrow. The reason for this, as
announced by the census bureau, is
that when the final reports were received
a year ago "it appeared that
the estimates of the agents made in
a Iv Am/4 nor
vuiuun wcic oia anu ivui-vviibUB j/v?
cent short of the actual crop grown.
A margin of error so large as that
is equal to the difference between a
short and a normal crop; and under
the peculiar conditions existing in the
cotton market today, the census bureau
does not feel warranted in publishing
any figures in which so large an element
of error may exist again. The
policy of co-operation between the census
and the agricultural departments
is adopted on the recommendation of
Secretary Cortelyou of the department
of commerce and labor, to avoid conflicting
reports as far as possible."
The census bureau announces that
it ought to be possible in the January
16 report "to cover practically the entire
cotton crop of 1903-04, and this will
be two months earlier than we were
able to do a year ago. It is to be regretted,
In view of the cotton situation,
that no canvass corresponding to the
one now reported, was made by the
census office a year ago."
As to the call for estimates of cotton
unginned in the several counties,
although it was not intended to use
them in this report, the bureau says:
"We desire to ascertain by a practical
test, whether it is possible for the
special agents to make such estimates, 1
at different periods during the progress 1
of the harvest, which can be relied I
upon as sufficiently accurate to be of f
value to the public. It is impossible <
that with their increasing experience i
these agents can come nearer to the 1
fact than in 1902. We can definitely *
ascertain the fact when the full re- t
turns of this season are received, and
the result compared with their esti- <
mates." '
The statistics of the cotton ginned <
to November 14 follow, by states: '
Alabama 743,538 total commercial <
bales, embracing 691,153 square bales I
and 52,385 round bales, active ginneries
3,797; Arkansas 406,393 total commercial
bales, embracing 378,663 square
bales and 27,730 round bales, active gin- i
neries 2,468; Florida 39,144 commercial
bales, embracing 22,379 square bales
and 16,763 sea island crop bales, active t
ginneries 264; Georgia 992,653 total t
commercial bales, embracing 938,535 <
square bales, 36,633 round bales and 19,- t
485 sea island crop bales, active gin- ?
neries 4,913; Indian Territory 172,793 1
total commercial bales, embracing 132,- 1
594 square bales and 40,199 round bales, t
active ginneries 485; Kansas, no re- <
turns; Kentucky total commercial bales <
308, all square bales, active ginneries 2; ?
Louisiana total commercial bales 510.- <
494. including 462,477 square bales and 1
48,017 round, active ginneries 2,098; 3
Mississippi total commercial bales 9?l?,- i
890, Including 888,545 square bates and '<
41,345 round, active ginneries 4.107; i
Missouri, total commercial bales ??,- 1
294, embracing 18,309 square and 3,985 1
round bales, active ginneries 70; North ?
Carolina, total commercial bales 407,199,
embracing 407,122 square and 77 i
round bales, active ginneries 2,652; ?
Oklahoma, total commercial bales 116,- ?
639, embracing 100,39^ square and 16,240
round bales, active ginneries 227; ?
South Carolina, total commercial bales 1
OR <511 omhraolnp R9.1 qnnnrp and \
4,305 sea island bales, active ginneries (
3,147; Tennessee, total 163,188, em- i
bracing 149,726 square and 13,462 round 1
bales, active ginneries 756; Texas, to- 4
tal commercial bales 1,932,549, embrac- ?
ing 1,700,072 square and 232,477 round ?
bales, active ginneries 4,412; Virginia, c
total commercial bales 7,744, all square, 1
active ginneries 108. ?
Holds the Record.?In these days s
of much traveling it is nothing unus- 1
ual to run across persons who have f.
crossed the Atlantic 40, 50 or even 100 a
times. But the record of the most as
siduous of these voyagers pales to Insignificance
beside that of Mr. Thomas 1
Kinsey, who is a purser of the Amerl- i
can Steamship Line of New York, i
Mr. Kinsey has just completed his f
827th Atlantic passage, which is un- t
doubtedly more by 100 or so than any J
other man of advanced age, and as he c
is regularly making two trips every e
month, it is likely that he will acorn- t
plish a total of 1,000 or more crossings v
before he retires from the sea. The i
veteran traveler first crossed the ocean I
ts a lad of 10 in the City of Manches:er,
one of the earliest* of screw steamihlps.
Since that time he has seen
steamships multiplied in else tenfold,
ind the time of the ocean Journey cut
lown from twelve days to six. He has
nade the ocean journey with many
)f the prominent men of both hemispheres.?Leslie's
Weekly.
C08T OF PANAMA CANAL.
ro Complete It Will Take Nearly Two
Hundred Million Dollars More.
It is estimated that it will cost the
United States $184,233,358 to acquire
ind complete the Panama canal, besides
the amount to be paid to the
government in control of the Isthmus
'or the concessions, says the New Tork
rribune.
Already there has been an immense
unount of money and energy expended
>n the canal. It is safe to say that
o>im vmama tKan (anflR/tlnrit in /I tsF A
i> nuiu iiiuic mail auuivivm w wm
vaterway from ocean to ocean at sea
evel has been collected from investors
it different times in its history.
When De Leuseps organised the first
:ompany in 1880 for the construction
>f the canal, it started work with a
caid-up capital of $60,000,000. For eight
rears the company tolled, employing
it times as many as fifteen thousand
nen. Then came a necessity for
:hanglng the plans and the company
felled, after having collected in round
igures from the sale of stock and
:>onds $260,000,000. Of this it was
shown that the expenditures actually
made on the isthmus amounted to>
1156,400,000, and that the cost of excavation
and embankment proper was
188,600,000. The ultimate cost was
then estimated at $174,600,000. For
several years an effort was made to
capitalize a new company to complete
the work, and at last, in 1894, the present
Panama Canal company was organized
with a paid-up capital of $18,>00,000.
Since that time work has advanced
at the rate of about 1,000,000
cubic yards of excavation each year.
The total amount of excavation up
to the present time has been about
11,000,000 cubic yards. Unfortunately,
>nly about 40,000,000 cubic yards of
this is available for the waterway proposed
in 1899-1900 by the canal commission,
of which Rear Admiral Walker
was president The Walker commission's
recommendation included
his available excavation in the $40,lArt
AAA 4n Ka noM tkn nanol nAvnnnnv
f VV|VW IV W |f?UU VIMMM
'or its work, maps, records, drawings
tnd the property of the Panama. Rail oad
company. The commission estinated
that the total amount of excavation
which would be required for the
:anal to be built from its plans, exclusive
of that for the Bohto dam and
he Giganti spillway, would' b* WMlr03
cubic yards. The work reffislrtlng
o be done, therefore, represents the
inference between the Itmount of
ivailable excavation which it will acluire
by purchase from" tlrtr Panama
3anal company, or ftearly three-fifths
>f the entire work. It is estimated
hat the cost of this work will be
>144,233,358, in addition to the sum to
>e paid to the present owner of the
>roperty. By the time it is completed
nore than 1460,000,000 will have been
>btained in one way or another for
ise in building the canal, while nearly
>312,000,000 will have actually been
ipent in connection with its construcion
and administration.
It was the intention of the Panama
Hanal company to make the canal 29.5
eet deep. The Increased dimensions
>f steamers now being built has made
t necessary to plan for a much deeper
canal, and- the Walker commission's
)lans are for a waterway 36 feet deep.
LIQUID AIR.
Has Developed Into a Most Important
Aid to 8urgery.
In 1899 Dr. A. Campbell White, in
he Vanderbilt Clinic, made expertnents
with liquid air in the treatment
>f cancers, ulcers, acsema, etc., and
itcame so enthusiastic that surgeons
ind physicians all over the world were
nclined to regard him a hopeless
,'anatlc. They have since changed
;helr opinion. Dr. White claims the
:-oined word, "radaerotherapy," indicating
a combination of the X-ray
ind liquid air treatments. The difficulty
of obtaining a regular supply of
(quid air retarded his experiments for
vear8; but today that difficulty is renoved.
He used to get a day's supply
it a time and keep it in a tin can, and
x would all evaporate in a day,
vhpthpr nned fir not. Prof. Dewar of
London invented a glass bulb in which
i gallon can be kept for three weeks.
Hie difficulties of Application have almost
entirely disappeared and "radterotherapy"
promises soon to become
is common a practice as cauterization.
Liquid air will transform any liquid
>r ether to the solid state. It will
'feeze alcohol solid, when the alcohol
vlll explode violently if ignited. The
nd of a rabbit's ear being frozen solid
t was broken off without pain or
lemorrhage; in less than ten minutes
he circulation was perfectly restored
ind the wound began to bleed. When
iprayed on your skin the latter at
>nce becomes dead and colorless. In
ess than a minute the part is frozen
ts hard as Ice, but the circulation reurns
in a few minutes without the .
ilightest injury to the tissues. There
s no pain in the application. Surgeons
who anaesthetise with liquid
ilr can operate without the interfer>nce
of so much as a drop of blood.
Dr. White saved a boy's hand with
iquid air. A cartridge had exploded
n the palm, making a nasty wound.
It first the liquid was applied too
ieely, for It froze the wound so solid
hat the scalpel could not penetrate it
Vfter waiting about thirty seconds the
peratlon was satisfactorily performid
without hemorrhage or pain. When
he boy returned in a few days the
vound was In perfect condition, and
t continued to Improve until well.?
few York Press.