The Darlington herald. (Darlington, S.C.) 1890-1895, March 04, 1891, Image 1
DARLINGTON
THE
HERALD.
VOL. I
DARLINGTON, S. C., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 4, 1891.
NO. 26.v
>; Oregon and Washington are becoming
great hop raising States.
’ The United States has referred thirty-
three international disputes to arbitratios
during the present century. .
A St. Louts (Mo.) Justice hss decided
that a young woman is bound to return
the gifts made by a rejected lover.
Another sc verelgn has taken to the
; pen and hopes to be known as a literary
man. This time it is the King of Siam.
•’Royalty and literature seem to be Sia
mese twins nowadays,” exclaimed the
Boston Trantcript.
The Boston Cultivator believes that
“the abundance of cheap and fertile
land in the West, and its possession by
farmers of small means and roving ten
dencies, has operated to lower the stand
ard of American agriculture.”
The statistics of the trades unions in
Germany show that about 2,000,000
workmen in that country have an annual
Income of less than $155, and that in
the weaving districts of Saxony and Si-
icsia there are thousands of men earning
but $75 peryear by their trade.
The Indiana House of Representatives
has passed a resolution directing the au
thorities of that State to co-operate with
Illinois,' Michigan, Wisconsin, Iowa,
KapSas, Ohio, Kentucky and Pennsyl
vania in an inquiry as to how much for-
eiga capital is loaned in those States,
with a view of taxing that capital.
! The imports to England of frozen
mutton in 1890 amounted to over 3,-
(100,000 carcases, being fifteen times as
tna'iy as in the year 1883. As new ves-
reli have lately been fitted up for the ex-
pnis purpose of plying between England
on the one side and New Zealand and the
River Plate on the other, it is calculated
that British imports during 1891 will bo
nearly half ns much again as those for
the past year.
John White, head teacher in the Berke
ley School, is credited by the New York
Telegram with the discovery that the
average New York school girl in her
’teens has a larger waist than her mother.
. “So much the better for the girl and the
worte for the parent,” is the comment of
the Telegram, which adds: “Art and
good - sense, alike condemn the wasp
waist on woman, but fashion is usually
more potent than either ayt or physiology
after the school girl makes her debut in
society."
. Queen Liliuokalaai,who succeeds Kala-
kaua on the Hawaiian throne, is flfty-
‘wo years old. She is an amiable and
rery intelligent woman, having a taste
lor poetry and music. She is stately in
ippcarance and has a dignified carriage,
but of late years she has become rather
(tout. She is animated and interesting
in conversation, speaking in the low and
musical tones that are peculiar to her|
race. She speaks English and is well
versed in the current literature of the
day. ___________
, The message of Governor Fowle, of
Ndrth Carolina, shows that the public
debt of the State is only $5,939,000,
$2,720,000 of which is in six per cent,
bonds, the remainder in four per cents.
On Cs the State has no interest to pay,
as it is paid for by the lease of a North
Carolina railway, in which the Common
wealth holds $3,000,000 of stock, so the
debt is practically only $3,218,000.
There are fifty-nine railways, with 3100
miles, worth $14,000,000. The Govern
or recommends a railway commission.
Japan has two telephone systems, one
at Yokohama and one at Tokio. An en
gineer who was educated in this country
is at the head of the two systems, and he
is using not only American patents but
American material. The native engineer,
S. Oi, has just written to this country
saying that the tolls had been fixed at
$32 per' annum for Tokio and $28 for
Yokohama. Yet Americans pay all the
way from $75 to $100 for precisely the
same service, exclaims the Chicago
Pott. .
King Kalakaua, in his life or in his
death, stood alone among monarchs,
muses the New York Commercial Adver-
tieor. A King without what might be
called a kingdom, he came to a Republio
to breathe his last. Another peculiarity
of his majesty was that he was a protege
of a people with whom it is an article of
faith thAt kings are cumberers of the
qarth. But then he encumbered so very
little of it that we forgave him. We
rather patted him on the head with a
certain half-conscious pride that we too
of the western hemisphere had our sped-
men of royalty to show. And if It cannot
be said that his passing away has con
vulsed principalities and powers, it has
at least, if we mistake not, removed a
good fellow from the world. And really
good fellows are rare, whether in palace
or in hovel. That he 1ms left as suc
cessor on his microscopic throne the wife
of a Yankee merchant adds pungency to
the situation. That looks like the begin
ning of the end. The Sandwich Islands
will not be long In following in the wake
of Brazil, in adding still another name to
the list of republics.
higher, r f
s t
Higher!
This shall my watchword'be.
And this one thought my soul inspire
For I am keen and free.
Higher!
Yea, even in defeat
Hold I my lofty purpose nigber
And deem it still more sweet.
Higher!
Though victory should) smile
And bringing me my taine desire^
(Should say: “Rest theeiawhile.”
Higer!
This be my shibboleth
Of those few friends whomll require
And love in life and death. <
Higher!
Up to that frigid height
Where clinging needs and lusts expire
And thought flies strong and light.
Higher-
God save mo from old age,
From listlessness and eyes that tiro
Of Thine illumined page!
Higher!
Oh let this spark divine
Leap glittering to the central fire
The all-pervading shine.
—Otorge Horton, in Chicago Herald.
The Sun of White Apple.
BV MAURICE THOMPSON.
In November, 1729, a French officer
by the name of Chopart, with a small
body of picked soldiers, held the little
post called Fort Rosalie, in Louisiana,
and ruled with military despotism the
country round about. He was a brave
and efficient soldier; no better ever drew
•word during the long struggle for the
upbuilding of the Louisiana colonies;
but, as was the case with most of those
hardy and intrepid adventurers, he had
little regard for the rights or the feelings
cf the real owners of the soil, the ill-fated
red men, whose romantic and heroic his
tory has never been adequately recorded.
The region surrounding Fort Rosalie
was extremely fertile, and had been long
occupied by the Natches tribe of Indians,
whose knowledge and skill in agricul
ture were only equaled by their lofty
pride of bearing and their courage in
battle. They were inclined to be peace
ful, and treated the white Invaders of ,
their country with great kindness at a
time when it would have been easy to rid
themselves of their threatening presence
forever.
Bienville, lately superseded by Perier
»s Governor or Commander-General ol
the province of Louisiana, had treated
the Natches most brutally. True, the
Indians had massacred the settlement on
the Sainte Catherine; but before this
they bad been robbed, tricked, cheated
and forced from their lands by Bienville’s
followers, and their act was but the out-
burit of a righteous indignation long
•oppressed. Bienville and his officers
fearing to meet the Natches in open war
fare, sought an interview with their
chiefs, and entered into a compact to
maintain peace. No sooner were the
Indians off their guard, however, than
the French secretly took possession of
Fort Rosalie, and prepared to drive
whole tribe into the wilderness. ‘A
general attack was made on the quiet
and practically defenseless villages and
plantations. Many of the Indians were
•Idughtercd in the most inhuman way,
and to crown all, Bienville demanded
that the Natches should surrender up to
him their leaders. When this was done
the brave chiefs were brutally murdered.
For a time the appalled and grief;
stricken tribe appeared to be utterly sub
dued. The braves ceased to struggle
against a fate which was bearing them
down with such merciless certainty. They
became stolid tillers of the soil, opened
trade with the white men and wekt about
as if heart-broken.
Chopart, whose desire for gain knew
no bounds, used bis official power at
Fort Rosalie as a lever for hoisting gold
into his coffers. He had ceased to credit
the reports of vast deposits of precious
metals to be found farther northward,
and turned his attention to despoiling
the Indiansbs trickery and intimidation.
At this time a famous chieftain, one of
the noblest of the Natches tribe, owned
a superb plantation called “White Ap
ple,” upon which he lived, surrounded
by a small village of his tenants. He
was a man in the first prime ol life, tall,
lithe and of commanding presence | bis
face, though inscrutable, was of a fine
manly type, dark, but not black, straight-
featured and full of quiet but lofty dig
nity. His home at White Apple was a
spacious lodge, hung with the skins of
wild beasts and furnished with all the
•avage splendor of weapons and warlike
trophies and decorations becomiucr a rich
and noble representative of a powerful
line of chiefs, or “suns,” as the Natches
named their leaders. Generation upon
generation of his ancestors had lived and
died there, and the place had become
famous throughout the great Indian na
tion as the most lovely, fertile and desir
able possession within the whole eouthern
region.
Seeing the valuable crops of grain
gathered by the Sun’s tenants, and rec
ognizing the incomparable beauty of the
White Apple plantation, Chopart made
up his mind to seize the place and hold
it as his own. No sooner had the thought
formed in his mind than he set about
carrying the design into execution. He
sent a peremptory order to the Sun to
vacate the place immediately and to take
with him his family and all hift gflgpje;
but instead of obeying, as the overbear
ing Frenchman expected he would, the
Sun sent back a haughty aud unequivocal
refusal, saying that the beautiful place
was his by inheritance and should remain
his and descend to. his children.
Chopart made dreadful threats, and so
intimidated the Indians that, in a coun
cil called for the purpose, they agreed
that, if permitted to remain where they
were, they would pay a heavy tribute, in
the nature of a rent or tax; and so the
red men were made mere slaves in, all
but name to the avaricious commander
of the fort.
It was while matters stood thus'thata
young man by the name of Alphonaa.de
Villars arrived at Fort Rosalie. t He wa»
a strikingly handsome youth, with a
dashing air, and, as he brought letters
from Perier, he was‘treated with unlim
ited courtesy. He had lately come over
from France, was a member of a distin
guished and influential family, and was
burning with the desire for wild adven
ture. Chopart, of course, felt.thc value
of the favor of so distinguishedla visitor,
whose influence might hasten the pro
motion that had been so long withheld;
thcrefore,he made him his special guest,
and this led to a meeting betweeniMnde-
moiselle Claire Roman and tho young
man, who?forthwith became herfdevoted
lover.
Monsieur Roman, CIaire’sdaUier,was a
wealthy trader, who, since the bursting
of John Law’s celebrated scheme, had
been one of the chief financiers' of the
Louisiana colonies. At the time of our
story he was sojourning for an indefinite
time at Fort Rosalie, in tho interest of
some trading scheme, and had with him
his family, consisting of Madame'Roman
and Claire.
The love which, like that described in
sll good old romances, sprang up be
tween these two young and exceptionally
endowed people was so strong and evi
dently so genuine that no opposition to
it was offered by Claire’s parents. It was
love in a wilderness, but the wilderness
was a paradise of birds, flowers, warm
sunshine and balmy breezes.
Clairo Roman, by the sweetness and
kindness of her dispos-don, as well as
by her rare beauty, had endeaued herself
to the garrison of Fort Rosalioand to all
the people dwelling near. Even the
Indians, sullen and silent, who came to
trade with the whites, learned to love
her. The Gun himself became her friend,
and, although able to speak but little iu
broken French, was always proud to ex
change a few pleasant words with her
whenever the opportunity offered. In
deed, it was apparent that she had a
great influence over him. He called her
“Sweet Violet,” and often brought her
little presents, such as he would have
offered a child.
Alphonse de Villiars was almost con
stantly in Claire’s company, so free was
the life of that wild and remote place,
and it chanced that tho Sun often met
them together. At such times ho in
variably ignored the young man’s pres
ence and 'treated Clairo as if she had
been entirely alone. This treatment
galled the Frenchman’s pride and he
resented it .with insult of which the Sun
took no perceptible notice.
“Are you deaf? Can’t you hear a
gentleman when he addresses you?” ex
claimed the young man one day, when
some civil words, meant to conciliate the
Sun for Claire’s sake, were received in
silence. “I will make you speak, sir!”
and ho half drew his sword.
The Sun flashed a quick glance upon
him and drew himself up defiantly, but
did not utter a word,
Claire interfered at once, and'the Sun’
turned and walked majestically away.
All this took place on a bright Novem
ber morning in the little street, which
was scarcely more than a path, near the
rude but comfortable house temporarily
occupied as a home by Monsieur Roman’s
family.
On the following night the Sun sent
out to each village of his tribe an emis
sary, bearing a bundle of five slender
reeds, with Secret ’ orders to the effect
that on the. next and every succeeding
morning a reed should be removed.
When the fifth reed should be withdrawn
that was to serve as a sigual for a move
ment against the whites,.
So quietly and secretly was this done,
that not a suspicion was aroused at Fort
Rosalie.
On the fifth day the Sun came early
into the town. One by one and two by
two the braves of his tribe, in accordance
with tho secret arrangement, strolled
carelessly in, apparently unarmed, and
went about talking of traffic with the
traders of the garrison.
Claire aud Alphonse de Villars as
usual were together that morning seated
side by side on a rude bench under a tree
t ear the Roman bouse, enjoying (while
bey told over and over again the tender
phrases of a romantic love) all the sweets
of bird song, leaf-rustle and gently blow
ing wind. A hazy atmosphere, made
golden and dreamily soft by a flood of
tempered sunlight, shimmered over the
over the fort and surrounding village.
Suddenly a loud cry rang out from a
point near the principal warehouse of the
post. It was the great Sun’s voice;
Claire recognized it at once. What
could It mean?
From hero, there and yonder a hun
dred wild shouts answered the sigqal,
and forthwith a mighty tumult of clasb*
ing sounds arose from the fort.
There was no mistaking the significance
of the dreadful noise; a massacre was at
hand—was already begun. Shots, heavy
crushing blows, groans and screams of
agony filled the air.
Indians were seen running in every
direction brandishing their weapons and
falling with deadly fury upon every
white man that they could find.
. At the first alarm Alphonse sprang up
and drew his sword; but Clare threw her
arms about him aud clung to him with
all the strength of her terrible emotion.
“Do not go 1 Oh, do not leave me l”
she cried. “Stay with me or I shall
die!”
It was enough to have wrung the
nerves of a stronger than Claire, as the
demoniac yells and hoarse exclamation!
of the savages were answered by the
shrieks and groans of their victims.
It was apparent beyond doubt that the
whites were at the mercy of tho savages.
Indeed, from where he stood, Al
phonse de Villars could see that the work
of extermination would be over in a few
moments. He hesitated, not from any
feeling of cowardice, but with an over
whelming consciousness of the awful
doom that must fall upon him and hit
beloved Claire, so soon, so certainly, with
such horrible conditions.
If he should leave Claire and attempt
to aid the shrieking and groaning vic
tims of massacre, the poor srirl would b»
at the mercy of the first furious Indian
that might come 11 at way.
While he stood appalled but calm, with
Claire clinging to him and with Madame
Roman rushing toward him from the
house, he heard a well-known voice, and
turned; the great Sun, feathered and
painted, brandishing a tomahawk, strode
up to him from the midst of the riot.
“White man die 1” exclaimed the giant
savage, lifting higher his gleaming
hatchet.
Claire raised her pale face from where
it had been pressed upon her lover's
bosom.
The Sun stopped short and glared.
“Sweet Violet I” he muttered, deep in
his throat, as if the name were choking
him.
Alphonse de Villars put the girl be
hind him and threw himself into atti
tude for action, his sword at guard.
It was :i scene worthy of tho pencil of
the master. The two opponents were
set against a background of blood and
slaughter nsver surpassed in the history
of savage warfare. Thev were both su
perb specimens—types of the races to
which they belonged. The Indian was
the larger, but the Frenchman showed a
a closer-knit and more compact frame.
In another arena, the struggle about to
take place would have been interesting
It was the most expert swordsman el
France against the most adroit and pow
erful wielder of the tomahawk ever
known to the Natches tribe. Sucfata
duel meant an exhibition of strength and
skill seldom witnessed, especially in
deadly combat.
The Sun measured his antagonist with
one searching look; then rushed upon
him, and aimed a swinging blow with
his tomahawk. A fine, clear steel note,
as the Frenchman’s blade parried tho
stroke, rang out like the sound of a bell
when its sonorousness is suddenly
checked. The sword flashed, through a
short curve and leaped forward in a
straight thrust. Quick as lightening, it
was turned aside by a short sweep of the
hatchet, which again was dashed at the
face of the white man, who caught it
fairly near his sword-hilt, and, by a deft,
strong turn, wrung it from Gun’s band,
and sent it whirling away.
It would have been easy for Alphonso
de Villars to have run the Sun through
the heart as he stood defenseless, but he
did not do it. Something in the proud
bearing of the savage checked his hand
for the moment.
The two men looked straight into each
other’s eyes. They were breathing hard;
neither flinched; not a word was spoken.
ftladume Roman had fainted, and lay
unconscious on the ground.
The tumult of hideous sounds was be
ginning to lessen, as the bloody work of
the Indians neared completion. Not a
white of the garrison was spared.
Clairo flung herself forward^ and,
spreading out her arms, clasped the Suu.
“Oh, ray red fatberl” she cried,“have
mercy on us I”
Her long, golden hair fell down, and
the breeze blow it across the Sun’s shoul
der like a scarf. She continued to plead
in the most piteous tones.
Meantime four or five infuriated braves
rushed to the spot, eager to continue tbe
slaughter.
Alphonse de Villars faced then with
sword ready.
The Sun with Claire atill clinging to
him, stepped between and gave some or
ders in the Indian tongue. The braves
stood still.
Turning now to the Frenchman, the
Sun said:
“White man put down his sword.”
Alphonse hesitated, but when Clairo
besought him he surrendered and was
made prisoner.
A drunken orgie followed the massacre,
the Indians finding stores of liquors iu
the warehouses of the fort; but the Suu
having gathered all the women, the
wives and daughters of the murdered
garrison. ojrdMfii Ibstt to he. protested.
Alphonse de Villars was the only man
taken alive,, and he, tightly bound, was
kept apart from the rest of the prisons
ers.
It is recorded in the history of Louisi
ana that the Natches, after their terrible
act of vengeance, took their prisoners to
a strong fort and there kept them until
the twenty-fifth of the following Febru
ary.
Chevalier Loubois, with six hundred
soldiers from New Orleans and a large
body of friendly Indians, invested the
fori and .forced the Sun to come to
tefins. A parley was held and if was
agreed that if the prisoners were released
•t the end of ten days hostilities should
cease.
Before the close of the stipulated
period, however, on a dark and stormy
night, the Sun and his braves stole forth
from their stronghold and escaped, leav
ing all the prisoners behind.
Among these prisoners were Alphonse
de Villars, Madame Roman and Claire.
Monsieur Roman had been killed early in
tho terrible struggle at Fort Rosalie.
The young people were married at
New Orleans and shortly afterward went
to France, where their descendants still
keep alive the story of White Apple and
the massacre at Fort Rosalie. The same
of the great Sun is connected with the
family history by a manuscript in a deli
cate writing of Claire (Roman) de Yd-
lars.—Weic York Ledger.
Stammering a Habtt.
One of the most unique schools In this
city is that in which stammerers learn
how to cure themselves of their mis
fortune. It has been in existence now
some five years, and in that time nearly
two hundred people have been made to
speak straight.
“There is no mystery about my art at
all,” said the Professor to a rsporter of
the Press. “I simply take a plain,
ordinary, everyday view of the matter.
I am a graduate of a German school, and
my experience has amply proven that
stammering is simply a habit,a bad one,
if you will, but nothing more than a
habit. I do not say it because of my
position, but I can cure anybody from
stammering who will come to me for two
weeks with a bona fide intention of
doing his best to overcome his fail
ing.”
“In this theory about stammering
being a habit you are running counter to
the general opinion entertained in Ger
many?”
“Yes,” he replied, “to the general
opinion, but not to the best opinion. I
would be far from reflecting on my
countrymen, but when they spread the
impression that stammering is not merely
not a habit, but that it is contagious,
they are simply deceiving themselves.
Still, that they are alarmed to a certain
extent is shown by the fact that stammer
ing is increasing to such a degree that
they have public schools for its cure
which are attended by more than eighty
thousand people.”
“Do yen find any particular nation
alities partial to stammering?”
“I cannot say that I do, but now that
I remember I cannot recall a single
Russian who is a stammerer, nor do I
have many Poles among my pupils. This
habit of lisping, which some silly people
believe is quite au fait, predisposes one
to stammering. You will find stammer
ing more prevalent among people of a
phjegmatio temperament and in nations
that have nothing cl.se t;a do than try ex
periments with language. Character in
people as a whole has a good deal to do
with the habit. Where you find men
and women with plenty of work you
don't find many stammerers, and when
you do find them, as 1 have, you have
people of resolution to.deai with and can
effect a cure. I have met no man or
woman in this city who cannot cure them
selves.”—New York Press.
An Old Fable Rent Asunder.
“These stories of mothers throwing
their children into the Ganges is all a
‘fake,’ ” sajs a returned missionary. “I
never saw it done, or any one who
claimed to have seen it done, or, in fact,
ever heard there of its being done. It
is only in England and America that I
ever heard ol it. Children are loved
there just as much as they aie here.
Motherhood is honored more.
“The story of men throwing them
selves into the Ganges in fits of religious
frenzy is another fairy talc. It prob
ably originated from the fact that at
the great festival held where the Ganges
emerges from the mountains into the
plain, called the ‘Gate of God,’ in the
crowds that press down to the river to
bathe it happened formerly that some
were pushed or crowded into the stream
by accident and swept away. The Gov
ernment now takes precautions to pre
vent such casualties. That such things
might easily happen you can see for
yourself when I tell you that I saw at
the great festival in 1864 over 2,000,000
people there, according to the Govern
ment estimate, at one time. When you
remember that this festival was to cele
brate the completed course of the con
stellations of the zodiac through ths
heavens, and that tho ceremonial of
bathing in tha river was to be per
formed at a sign from the priests that
the course of the constellations was
completed, you will wondc-r that such
casualties were not frightful in their ox-
tonU'je-IMww Neys.
HOW POLK DIED.
TRUE STORY OF HIS KILLNG
NOW FIRST MADE PUBLIC.
Thrilling Narrative From the Pen
of an Officer Who Witnessed th«
Firing ot tbe Fatal Shell
at Pine Mountain.
The Brooklyp Cititen says that Captain
J. E. P. Doyle, who died some time ago,
left among bis unpublished manuscripts
the following article, which is of groat
historic value, as it is the first authentic
account made public of Bishop Polk's
death:
The writer at various times has read
many alleged accurate narratives of the
manner in which Lieutenant-General and
Bishop Polk met his death on Pine
Mountain, Georgia, June 15, 1864, but
not one has at all approached the true
facts. Even Dr. Lossing, in his “Civil
War in America, Volume III, page 378,
in a footnote, says that “Polk, Johnston
and Hardee were upon the summit of
Pine Mountain when the cannonade com
menced reconnoitering. Seeing the
group, General Thomas, it is said, or
dered a shot to be fired at them from
Knapp's battery. This caused them to
retreat to a place of safety. Polk soon
reappeared, when another shell was fired
which exploded near him and killed him
instantly. The two shells were tired by
a young man named William Atwell, of
Alleghany City, Penn., attached to
Knapp’s battery."
I have generally found Dr. Lossing’s
accounts of military operations that
came under my personal observations
correct, but in this case he has most cer
tainly been imposed upon. I propose
now to tell the incident just as it oc
curred, and I believe its accuracy will
not be questioned by General O. O.
Howard,or any other witness living who
that morning formed a group of which I
was one. I was at that time attached to
the headquarters of General Howard,
then commanding the Fourth Corps. On
the night of the 14th the corps
bivouacked about two miles north of
this mountain, with General Stanley's
division under order to lead the advance
on the morrow. About sunrise General
Howard with his staff rode to the front.
Wc found that Stanley had broken
camp, and his command were awaiting
on tbe road with stacked arms for or
ders to advance. When we joined Gen
eral Stanley and his staff at the extreme
front, after the usual exchange of morn
ing salutations between the two Gen
erals, Stanley remarked to General How
ard:
“General, direct your glass to that
mountain’’—pointing with his hand to
its summit—“and see if you can make
out that group. I think there is a woman
in the party.”
We all whipped out our glasses in a
moment and looked at the point indi
cated. Sure enough there was a group of
about twenty in full view. In the fore were
three persons standing up,the one in the
center being dressed in what appeared to
be a long dressing gown, and behind a
number of men apparently seated. After
a careful survey through his glass Gen
eral Howard said: “It does look like a
woman, General. I think probably it is
Bishop Polk. He is in the habit of wear
ing a morning .gown sometimes. They
arc evidently thereto recounoiter.”
“Well, suppose wc give the Biship a
shot or two before we advance,” said
General Dave Stanley, “just to disturb
bis morning meditations.” .
General Howard interposed no objec
tions. Stanley then turned to Captain
Sampton, his chief of artillery, and re
marked, “Sampson, suppose you order
up a section, uniimber and stir up the
Bishop 1”
Away rode Sampson. At the time I
sat on my horse between General How
ard and Captain Leonard, his chief signal
officer, on the right of our party. The
Captain, Captain Uowgate, Captain Tay
lor, Captain Messenger and other signal
officers during the winter previous, while
we lay in garrison at Chattanooga, had
interpreted the whole signal cipher code
of the Confederates, and during the
entire Atlanta campaign all dispatches
signaled over the mountains were almost
instantly translated by the Union signal
corps. Presently Sampson arrived with
field pieces of some Indiana battery, I
believe, under n Lieutenant. One gun
was placed in position on the right of
Signal Officer Leonard, and about twelve
feet distant. The Lieutenant, after the
gun was loaded, took the elevations, the
gun was lire! aud the shell exploded, ns
far as we could teil by our field glasses,
a little to the rear, over aud on the right
of the group on the mountain. When
the gun was reloaded Sampson threw
himself from the saddle of his horse,
whose flanks touched those of Captain
Leonard's horse, and rushing to the gun
remarked:
“Let me sight her,Lieutenant. 1 think
I can do better than that.”
Down on his knees he fell, sighted
the gun, it was disoharged, and as the
shc'l burst ou tho mountain wu noticed
a sudden scattering of the group. The
gun had been recharged, and Sampson
was on his knees sighting it for a third
messenger of death when Signal Officer
Leonard exclaimed: “That shot killed
General Polk!”
“What!" exclaimed several, “Bishop
Polk killed?”
“Yes." wqs Leonard's answpr; “they
are signaling ir over tne monntams.~
“What’s that?” exclaimed Sampson,
still on his knees sighting the gun.
Captain Leonard told him tho news.
For a moment Sampson's head dropped
forward and his hands rested on the
breech of the piece. Then looking up
he remkared: “Thank God! They killed
my brother the other day—only a Lieu
tenant. I have killed a Lieutenant-
General.”
The third shot was not tired, Sampson
rising and remounting his horse. All of
our party were visibly affected by the
incident, no one more so than General
Howard, who, after recovering from the
effects of the nows, solemnly remarked
Bishop Polk killed! Then wo have
killed a Christian gentleman.”
Shortly after the signal officer reported
that the enemy was evacuating the
mountain, and an advance was ordered.
I went up the mountain with the first
troops to the spot where tho Confederate
group had been stationed, and there
found a fallen tree, about thirty feet
long, before which Bishop Polk and his
associates had stood, and upon which
their staff ofticers had been seated. On
ths fallen timber I found what colored
guides told us was the blood of General
Polk.
Thus did General Polk fall at Pint
Mountain. Neither Thomas nor Sher
man was near us at the time, as they did
not reach the front until later.
Eugene Field’s Prank.
In 1884, the present writer, then an
editorial writer for the Chicago Daily
News, did his work in the same room
where Mr. Eugene Field wrote those
graceful verses and irresistibly funny
paragraphs which made the “Sharps and
Flats" column of that journal so eagerly
sought for. Both occupants of the room
were frequently subject to visits from ac
quaintances who chanced to be in the
city for the day, so they contrived a
number of practical jokes intended to in
crease the respect which some of these
lay brethren had for newspaper writers
in general, and for these two in particu
lar. One day an acquaintance of Mr.
Field's boyhood, a tail, gangling-looking
Missourian, came in and made himself
known. After cordial greetings and a
few moments of conversation, Mr. Field
clapped his hand to his brow, assumed a
wild expression, and speaking sharply to
his room-mate as if he were an amanuen
sis, said: “Take this poem down.”
The amanuensis cleared the deck of
his desk for action, and Mr. Field began
to dictate a poem. It was a beautiful
little lyric upon which he had devoted
weeks of painstaking work, but he reeled
it off as If it had just popped into his
mind, and to increase the wonderment in
the mind of his guest, turned two or
three times in the course of the dictation,
and chatted with him about their boy
hood frolics. The eyes of the Missourian
stood out in amazement, as, at the close
of the dictation, the amanuensis read the
charmingly finished poem, aud Mr. Field
in a tone of command, said:
“Send it up to the printer. Have it
put in to-morrow morning’s paper.”
The next morning the Missourian,
proud of his acquaintance with so wonder
ful a man as Mr. Field had showed him
self to be, read the poem, and set out to
tell everybody who would listen how an
inspired genius writes poetry.—AnalctUm
Nagaiine.
The Queerest Chance In ths World.
Every once in a while aome war vet
eran, under proper circumstances and
conditions, will tell you how he escaped
death at such a place and such a time by
the “queerest chance in the world."
One of these “queerest chances in the
world” fell to the lot of an old-timer
who lives iu Germantown, and, in truth,
it is one of the very queerest. He was
about to leave for the seat of war in 1863,
and the girl to whom he was engaged,
among numerous other things, gave him
a chest-protector made by her own hands
and wet by her tears. It was meant to
be practical, and was of immense thick
ness, that is, it was padded to the depth
of an inch or two. Duriog a long and
tedious campaign in chilly weather the
soldier found it invaluable as a safeguard
against colds, and wore it almost con
stantly. He had it on one morning when
plunged into the heat of a hand-to-hand
skirmish. Tho affair developed into
quite a little battle and soon the strag
gling fire on both sides had become rat
tling volleys. When it was all over the
soldier retired to his tent and removed
his coat aud shirt in order to stanch the
flow of blood from a small wound in his
back. In removing the protector he felt
a sharp pain shoot through his chest,
and then he noticed the protector was I
cut all up by the passage of a bullet. ;
Au investigation developed an awfully
“queer chance.” His sweetheart had
accidentally left a needle sticking iu tho
pad which ho had never noticed before.
This ran right through the cloth and a
bullet had struck it ou the point. Tho
needle had been forced back clear
through a thick button ou his woolen
undershirt aud thence had gone a little
distance into the skin. Tho resistance
of the button had forced the soft lead
of the bullet clear round the needle so
that the bullet was fairly impaled on the
slender wire. Thus was the life of the
soldier saved, and through tho careless
ness of his beloved in leaving tho needle
in the protector.—Pkila<Ulohia Inquirer.
POPULAR SCIEN$E.
It is proposed to use electricity instead
ot steam at the World’s Fair in Chicago,
m.
An ingenious method of applying drugs
hypodermically to the body in which
electricity is brought to bear is receiv
ing considerable attention.
It is said that great advantages would
result from the use of electricity in kill
ing hogs at slaughter houses and that the;
experiment will soon be tried.
The Yale Museum,New Haven, Conn.,
has just received a skeleton of a saurian,
a prehistoric monster of which but two
complete skeletons arc known.
Harvard College astronomers have con
vinced themselves that the bright giant
star Vega, or Alpha Lyrse, is not double,
as Fowler, the English astronomer, re
cently announced.
Statistics show that in the most north
ern cities of Finland ami Norway the
annual mortality from tuberculosis is
from 2.3 to 3.4 in 1009 living inhabit
ants, while in southern Italy it is but 1.7
in 1000.
The Hannaford (England) electric and
automatic lighthouse sends electric
flashes, plainly discernible, thirty miles
distant. But the great novelty and most
valuable feature is the windmill attach
ment, which generates the electricity,
and tho storage of the latter to such
ample amount that it would not run
short of 15,000-candle power even in a
six months’ calm.
Following is a scientific description of
what happens when you light a fire: The
phosphorous on the match is raised by
friction to a temperature of 150 degrees
F , at which it ignites. It raises tho
temperature of 4he sulphur, if it be a
sulphur match to 500 degrees, when the
sulphur begins to burn, the sulphur
raises the heat to 800 degrees, when the
wood takes up the work and produces a
temperature of 1000 degrees, at which
the coal ignites.
Brass is, perhaps, the best known and
most useful alloy. It is formed by fus
ing together copper and zinc. Different
proportions of these metals produce
brasses possessing very marked distinc
tive properties. Tho portions of the
different ingredients are seldom precisely
alike; these depend upon the require
ments of various uses for which tho
alloys are intended. Peculiar qualities
of the constituent metals also exercise
considerable influence on the results.
A new flash-light fire alarm has re
cently appeared in Copenhagen, Den
mark. It consists of a small cartridge
filled with Bengal light composition and
provided with a fuse which carries a
small capsule of strong sulphuric acid,
When the temperature of the room rises
above the melting point of paraffine tho
sulphuric acid is liberated and ignites
the fuse which in turn sets fire to the
Bengal light. The device can be sup
plemented by a piece of fusible metal
which in melting will establish au elec
tric current and ring a bell.
G. W. Hambleton regards consump
tion as depending on conditions that re
duce the breathing surface of the lungs
below a certain proportion to the rest of
the body. The conditions include seden
tary overcrowding, want of exercise, de
fective seats, ill-fitting clothes and what
ever may impair the lungs or lead to un
due compression of the chest. Remedies
should be sought in free country life,
well-ventilated rooms, suitable chairs,
and clothing free from constriction and
not too heavy. The earliest physical
training should aim at the full develop
ment of tho thorax. Persons whoso
breathing capacity docs not measure up
to the normal should not engage in any
occupation tending to constrain the
chest or to expose the lungs to the in-,
halation of dust.
Art uf Weod Engraving.
Wood engravers all work with the
same tools and very much in the same
manner, and they are not much different
from watchcase engravers. First, they
require « (r<vvi u^ht on their work,- and
their table or bench is always under a
window. Then they have a “pad,”
shaped like a curling stone used iiy
Scotchmen on the ice, but very much
smaller. It is of leather, filled with
sand, oval iu form. Oa this the block
of wood can bo turned and twisted in
any direction, white a solid foundatiuf
is also obtained. A magnifying glass 1
used, which is fastened to an upright
frame, and which can be easily ad
justed.
At an engraver's right hand is ar
ranged a score or moro gravers and
“tint tools.” With his eye to the mag
nifying glass (he only .uses one eye) the
artist workman loses ail interest iu every
thing else around him, and for hours
and weeks he picks and picks at the
wood, slowly evolving a picture or por
trait which sometimes is simply glanced
at for a moment and forgotten. Yet
these pictures cost the publisher of #
magazine from $50 to $300 apicce r the
latter being about the price (mid for a
frontispiece.—New York Press.
First Female Printer.
Tho first noted female printer was
Charlotte Guillard, who carried on the
business for some fifty years in Paris.
She first entered the ranks in 1506, and
was noted for the correctness of the
works she printed.—Aufio/ia? Publisher
and Printer,