Newspaper Page Text
iVfp'Slljf #.'g?LLX-Z?-l ? : T,- : .-: - - ? ' ' V7v:''! V'.' ' **? ? ??-''. '
' VOL. 2. NO. 7J BEAUFORT, S. C., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 0, 1871. j _ ?.? 8fc* gJtfltrfflrf ^ipnMian, ? o THURSDAY NOVEMBER, 9, 1871. h , _ . tl POETRY. 11 tl IT HIIAIJLtfE. ti a BT JOA<jriJf MILLK*. (J it I love A forest maiden; she is mine; And on Sierra's slopes of pine, i a The Tines below, the snows above, g> A solitary lodge is set 8] Within a fringe of watered lire; And there my wigwam fires burn, Fed by a round brown hand? t>] That small brown flrithfid band of hers (Jj That never rests till my return. jj. The yellow smoke is rising yet; Tiptoe afeksce it where you stand, ^ Lift like a column from Jie land. TJ There are no sea gems in her hair; ^ Ko jewehr fret her dimpled hands; hi And half her bronzed limbs are bare; C But round brown arms have golden bands, ^ Broad, rich, and by her canning hands Cat from the yellow virgin ore, 10 And she does not desire more. tfa I wear the beaded wampum belt That sfc3fcaa,wofeg (ha sable pelt r . That sbe has friqghd red threads around; And fntbe morn, when men are out, C< 1 wake the valley with the shot r0 That brings the brown deer to the ground; A ad she beside the lodge at noon 8lngs with the wind, while baby swings W< In sea shell cradle by the bough; qj Sings low?so like the clover sings ^ With swartnsof bees. I hear them now; I see her sad face through the moon Such songs! would earth had mure of such! ly She has not much to say; and she Lifts never voice to question ine 3 In aught I do.... and that is much. 60 I lure ber for ber patient trust, And my lore's forty-fold return? A ralue I bare not to learu As you..... at least as tuanj must P* She is not over tall aor fair; Her bieists are curtained by her hair; And sometimes, through the silken fringe, 8p I see ber bosom's wealth, like wine, tX Burst through, In luscious, ruddy tinge? ^ And all its wealth and worth are mine. I know not that one drop of bleod Of prince or chief is in her reins; I simply say that she is good fr< And lores me with pure womanhood. , When that is said, why, what remains? * "Hung* of ihe Siermu." S m he lash at Rofkfstcr. in -51,1 ; 8C What file CaaMrit X Roads Ex-Post mas- I I tor taw at the Tsaasay State Conrca* go Usa. u From TV TWrdo Blade. ConpkdritX Rom - (Wteh fts la Use State of Krntaeky,) W October 14, 1871. a I am in the sere and yeller leaf, and yc her seen much of politics, but never in he my life did I ever see a convenshun so pi beautifully managed ez the late Demo^ - * "*"* 1 1? crmuc lonvensnun at iwcaeausr, x^w y York. I waz there by speshel invitation ci uv my old Brick Dennis O'Slaughnessy, uv the Sixth Ward, Noo York, who, since th I left the Harp uv Erin Sloon has im- ni proved wonderfully In a wordly pint nv be view. He was then a hod-carrier by pro- pi fession and a repeater by practice. He in attracted the attention uv Mr. Tweed by yc hie seal in votin and his bravery in knock- lej . in down oppcsishen voters, and was uv re course rewarded. He is now Assistant m jjppF Inspector nv Musket Triggers uv the m Ninth Regimental Armory, at a salary uv $300 per month, Skool Inspector in the Sixth ward, at a salary of $400 per month, sn and Thirty-second Assistant Law Advis- th er to the commission for condemning pri- m vate property, for streets and sich, at a nc salary uv three thousand dollars per year, lei besides which he hez a tenth interest in A the contract for keepin the glass in repair sh a uv the two back winders uv two Armor- ts nnt n* which he made SI0.000 in the m ? firs! six months. He waz tu hev hed the er con track for the two front winders in ad- bl dition,dfcit the raid the people made on ed the Ring busted that. He hez, however, fit invested largely in city lots, and wears ui kid gloves and a diamond ez big ez a ki peechstone. Dennis said that ef the in- tn fernal Amerikens and Germans kin be fa beat down and the control uv Noo Yoik left with the Irish, where it belongs, he wi will be tolerably well off in a year or two. ar Dennis, being nv consequence in the th party wuz, uv course, in the private coun- sn sels uv the managers uv the State Convenshun. He and Tweed, Sweeny, Mayor dc Hall, Keyser, Garwin, and the entire con- in vocashen was at Rochester though nobody th knowed it They Went ih a speshel pri- te vate car, and bed private rooms at the Os- w! borne House, with a private wire runnin he direclly to the hall in wich the Convenshun wuz held. It wuz the most impres- th sive scene I ever witnesst; one wich these Sc old eyes will probably never look onto p< agin. Tber in an esy chair sot one man w irecting the deliberashens uv a con veil- ' hun uv the great State uv Noo York? 1 ne brain thinkin for a thousand?one 1 and guidin a thousand. He directed ^ lie Conrenshun to cheer when Seymour's ( ame wuz announst az a delegate, and 1 iey cheered?he directed em to reject 1 lie Tammany delegashun from the city, 1 nd they wuz rejected?he directed em to * o everything that wuz done and they did 1 "My great sir," sed I, in astonishment I t the power he wielded, "why don't you 1 o over to the hall and direct the Conven- ? tiun ?" 1 "My gentle sir,'' retorted he, with a i land smile, ez he dictated a messenger 1 irectin uv the Conrenshun to cheer when 3 le rejection of the Tammany delegates 1 uz announsted, "my dear sir, I am eieee I There's a hundred uv my t iroats a shoutin this minit?there's a 1 and red uv my hats a going up to the i< ilmc this minit?there's two hundred i' 7 my hands a clappin vociferously at this 1 init. There's a great many of me in t tat halL" 1 After the adjournment uv the Conven- 1 tun for dinner, the Chairman uv the v immittee on Resolooshens came into the ^ om to submit the resolooshens they hed a epared, that they mite be shoore they 8 ood meet Mr. Tweed's ideas. The great u an read em attentively and handed uv v n back. t 44They won't do," sed he sententious1) "In what respeck are they faulty!" ask1 the Chairman, obsequiously. "Woodent it be well enough," sed Mr. weed, with a smile still more bland than e first, woodent it be well enough to it in a resolooshen denouncin the cor- a ipshen, in general terms, uv coorse, ecifiyin partikerlerly, however, the espial corrupshun uv the Nashnel Gov- C nment, and that uv States which is c jder Radikal control?" ii The sublimity uv sich a sejestion comin o om Tweed struck the Chairman all uv a a ?p. p t4Certainly I will, ef yoo wish it," sed j, but I sposed?that is, my idee wuz ? y a general way, yoo know, that the lea t t d about corrupshen, in view uv?well, c am list now holdin a place wich pays b methin like ten thou?but never mind, she! be done." a "Then agin," sed Tweed, smiliu still b ander and with the faintest sejestion ov o wink in his left eye, "I wood sejest that r >u pledge the Democratic party to be a mest and economical expenditoor uv the p iblic funds 1" g The Chairman turned pale with sur- I ise, but he coincided. Everybody coin- ji des with Tweed. F "And while yoo are at it," continued t e great chieftain with a smile, the bland- a s uv wich can't be described, "yoo hed r ttter put in a resolooshen denouncin the b ofligacy uv the management uv matters & Noo York City, but makin it, mind a o, ez the legitimate result uv Radical I gi?lasben four yeers ago. Draw up this t soloo8hen so as to make it plain that it's & e yoor drivin at, without exactly n&min I e.?> " ' a "Why, what shell we?" b "Don't go on, my friend," sed Tweed, t: lilin a smile wich for blandnis excelled 8 e most delishus Joon morning, "it's c utch better to hev the corrupshen de- J >un8t by us than by the enemy, partike- * rly ez we know more definitely about it. a nd I wood sejest that yoo hev a resoloo- ? eD, boldly challengin a comparison be- ? ">?? "Rnnnhlitin anrl TW>moeratic ad inistrations uv the State and City Gov- P nraents, and (here he smiled with a andnis wich wuz heavenly, ez he finger- * 1 a most gigantic diamond on the little ' lger of his left hand, and sipped a glass E r champagne) any little thing wich yoo c n throw in ez to the necessity uv a re- F rn to the simplicity uv our Furitan ? there wood be well." a The Chairman wuz too affected to say a 1 ord, but he made the necessary notes, ( id castin one look uv astonishment at ( ie greatness uv his cheef, who sat there e ailin blandly, retired from the presence, i But the great man's work wuz not yet c >ne. He promptly telegralft every prom- c ent Democratic editor and politishun in t e State to denounce him in the bitterest i rms, and then tellin the Convention ? ho to nominate and wat else to do, went I >me. u There is a greatness and a grandeur in I lis man wich I can't sufficiently admire, i >me men wood be so pufled up with the j >ssession uv the twenty-five millions c ich he hez made ez to insist upon an en- k Jorsement by the party through Whicfr hi made it, but not 80 with Tweed. Then lint no vanity about him. So long ez h< btez control uv the party, he don't care i lent whether he is publicly recognized o: aot. Ez he remarkt to me ef the way U ny continuashen in power is in denuncia ihen uv me, very good, denounce me. 3 tin stand it. I ain't the first man who ;o get on, hez trampled over the dea< >ody uv his reputashen. I'd jist ez soot >ull the wires behind the curtain ez t< nanipulate the pupita in front uv it 3 lin't agoin to let personal vanity stand ii he way uv the grand success. I'm hop ng for next year. I'm a rather heav] oad for the party to carry just now, ant !'m goin to teleeve 'em?till after th< Presidenshel elecshen." Then I saw wat motive wuz actooatii be Amerikia Napoleon, and I wuz agic ost in wonder. Whoever the Democratc nominee is, he will simply be a shadder, iv wich Tweed will be the substance. Tweed will be the power behind the hrone, wich is greater than throDe itself Ind wat a glorious prospek opens to us Think uv a Democratic President in 1873, nth Tweed behind him I Think u\ Tweed makin collectors, and assessors, ,nd postmasters, and all uv 'em bein reponsible solely to him ! Ef he hez made iv himself the revenues uv one city, wal rill he do when he hez the nashen to ileed ? I shell to wunst cultivate pleasant reishens with Tweed. Petboleum Y. Nasby, P. M., (Wich wuz Postmaster). Fire-Proof Bnildings. n Interview with Supervising Architect Muliett. The Washington correspondent of the Jincinnati Commercial has recently had a onversation with Mr. Muliett, supervis ag architect of the Treasury Department, n the subject of fire-proof buildings. In newer to a remark made by the corns ondent, be said: "Why, my friend; you don't know what ou're talking about. You now know that here was not a fire-proof building in Chiago. I could have told you that beforeand." "Why the Tribune office was regarded 8 fire-proof, and other marble and granite uildings were so regarded. I believe they nly lacked iron shutters," I ventured tc eply. "Iron fiddles!i;ks," he answered snap'ishly. ' *1 hope you don't think that a ranite or marble building is fire-proof. )on't you know that granite, when sub< ected to a strong heat, crumbles like dry ilaster. It is the best building stone in he world; it will resist time, and damp, ,nd rain, and everything else, but it won't esist fire. Marble is not much better, ?ut it is some; marble will not burn up ae oon as granite. Sandstone is about the ame, with some few exceptional varieties, fow, a good many blessed idiots think hat if a vault is built of granite it is fire nd burglar-proof. Nothing of the sort, f I wanted to make a secure vault, I houldn't make it of granite. A skillful >urglar can get into a granite vault in nc ime. With a large blow-pipe and a small harp blaze well handled a burglar can rack a block of granite to pieces before ou'd know it. When subjected to a score heat it cracks and splits off in flakes, on" if infft QQ n rl with vnti 1 iliU \uu iau v-trou aw iuw ummv* ^ ingers. Ob, no, a granite building is nol ire-proof." "Well, what sort of building is fire. >roofV" "A granite building," be answered, without apparently noticing the question, 'will stand heat a great while, so will Garble a great while. But a wooden upola, or steeple, or tower, must not be tut on top of it, like that on the Chicago Courthouse. A man must be a fool to dc , thing like that. I'd also like to kno* tow a sensible man could be such a foo' the language is Mullett's) as to think the Chicago 2W6une office was fire-proof when aore than half the windows did not have ron shutters? It don't take fire long to rasli through glass and sash. People ught to understand these things when luilding what they call fire-proof build gs; for a fire-proof building that t*n'i ire-proof is no better than one that isn't, )o you understand? Now I can't alwayi lo as I want to in the erection of public ?uilding8. Sometimes I have to leave ron shutters off, and sometimes I have to >ut wood in places where stone or iror iught to be, but it isn't because I don'l tnow better. Congress never thinks o: 3 these things. They think that if a bnild3 ing is made of granite or marble, that's 3 all that i# necessary. Iron shutters and 3 all such things cost something. I make f my estimates for a public building, but * they are always cnt dotal so I have to * cnt down my plans. Now in this Chicago t horror yon see the effects. I'll bet you ? the proprietors of the Tribune tall hare * iron blinds on their upper windows in 1 their next building." J "What difference will it make," I asked, E "if granite is not fire-proof?" i "Granite is not fire-proof," he contin ned, "but, as I said before, it will stand J a good deal. It is probable that the court1 house would have stood had it not been 3 for the wooden cupola and the open windows. The Tribune office would probably i have stood it if it had iron shutters outi side on all the windows. Yet it is by no means certain, if the fire raged with the > intensity that is described." "What, then, is to be done," I asked, - *- - " i "? i.i ' "l! granite ana marDie ana sandstone are > not fire-proof? Is not the capital, the I treasury, the patent office, the postoffice ? department, fire-proof?" r "Why, bless your soul, nol Not one of > them. But they are probably safe, for b\\ that, because they stand away from other > buildings?all except the postoffice. If we ; should have such a fire in Washington as > that in Chicago, I should fear for the postoffice building. Why, my dear sir," he continued in a more snappish tone than ever, "do you know there is but one fireproof government building in the country? That's the appraiser's stores in Phiiadelpbia. The material is brick. Brick is the only absolutely fire-proof building material I know o? They say the Seneca t stone is fire-proof, and it has stood some wonderful tests, but none of the govern1 ment buildings have been built of it. Of k course, granite and marble are good ' enough, if buildings are apart from others, i That's the trouble. Government build1 ings ought to have big grounds around ' them. Then there would be no danger. But I have great faith in iron shutters." ' Woodhall on the Rampage. She Attempt* to Bed ace a Steamboat Clerk ?A Second Joseph Andrews. The Albany limes gives the following r very amusing account of Victoria Wood^ hull's journey up from New Yoik on the Troy boat: Just before the steamer Connecticut left her dock in New York the night before last, a carriage drove up to the wharf, , and from it emerged three persons, two , wearing the garb of women and one dressed in the habiliments of the sterner sex; but nature or custom seemed reversed in . this instance, for one of the seeming females gave orders to the coachman, paid , the fare, attended to the baggage, pur, chased the passage tickets, and then gave her arm to the healthy mortal who had stood by holding a poodle and carrying a , parasol, marched him into the cabin of the steamer and seated him upon a cushioned ; chair, while she went in search of a state I room. Her female companion, she found, > had alreany purchased a room, but it was [ in a gangway, and it made the first lady t very angry to find that her friend had > been so sadly imposed upon. So with dashing eye and scowling visage she marched straight to the clerk and de manded that the room be changed for a i better one, "for," said the lady, as she stood on her tiptoes and glared in furiously at the clerk, "I am Victoria C. Woodhull, of 44 Broad street, New York. "Oh!" murmured tie clerk, with the , greatest timidity, "I was not aware of i that;you shall have the best room on the t boat, your great financial head shall rei pose on the same downy pillows upon > which the noble Fisk did slumber just > one month ago to-night;" and he handed r the lady the key of the bridal chamber. I Over her face there stole a smile as > bright as the sun at noonday, and she cast i a look of such ineffable tenderness upon > the clerk that he actually wilted. Yet be > managed to ask: > "Who is that male spinster that is with i you?" "That is my ," but the crowd putht ed her forward, and the rest of the sen, tence was lost in the noise of the departure s or tne Doai. ?>ui m a iew uiuiueuus u j waiter brought down to the clerk a beau) tiful boquet with a card attached, upon which was written: 4'Compliments of i Victoria C. Woodhull." In a moment t another waiter appeared; he brought a set f of elegantly bound book* for the clerk. Next came a box of bonbons, then an invitation to attend the lady at supifcr, which the clerk had to decline* This was not all. All through the early part of the night came messages from the charming Victoria to the handsome clerk, Frank Baker, until, in sheer desperation, he barred his door, and refused admittance to any one; still the messages were all of the most ladylike character. By daylight next morning, the lady was at his window, but the boat had arrived at Albany, and the clerk slipped unobserved out of his room and ran away. Our reporter saw him running, and the cause of his haste. Wildly he answered, that it was from some one who claimed him as her affinity, and then, as his excitement subsided, he related in the strictest confidence the above horrible tale. V. C. W., is now in Troy attending the Spiritualists1 Convention, and poor Frank Baker is in the most abject misery, fearful that he may be again beset by the attentions and blandishments of Victoria, on her financial bower of Broad street, and the housetop of Murray Hill, where she communes (vide Theodore Tilton's biography) with Demosthenes and other guardian spirits, in untrammelled affinity. Alice Cary's Love. The Facts About Her Relations with Rn* fm W. Grliwold. A story under title of the "Unknown Love of Alice Cary," in the newspapers, is still traveling through the length of the land. It asserts that in her youth she was affianced to Rufus W. Griswold; that he was false to her?forsaking her for a woman of the world; that long after, when he return to New York friendless, poor, and sick, she forgave him the great wrong that he had done, and nursed him till he died. This story, in many conflicting phases, tfas often to her great annoyance told of her during her life. The fact that Rufus W. Griswold did iu his last will bequeath to her his personal effects was made much of in printed and private circles, and used as an unanswerable proof that at one time he had been her lover. Within a week I have read, in alettef to the New York Hfvening Post, that the will proved the love and relationship between the two persons beyond a doubt. Yet no less, in its foundation the story is fa!se. Referring to it at once, while we two sat alone together, Alice said to me: "I will tell you just the truth. If you ever think' it necessary, you can * ' '* " l- U-i 1A LA. ka tell." i Deueve it 10 uui juaucc tu uci oacred life, with which idle gossip is yet too busy, to tell it now. Bereavement in death and in life had made her Western home too desolate to be borne. These with the impulse of the brave will that served her to the last, brought her to New York to make not the life that she would have chosen for herself, yet a life worthy to be lived. "Ignorance stood me in the st ead of courage," she said. Had I known the great world as I have learnd it since, I should not dared, but I didn't. Thus I came." The leading litterateur at that time was Dr. Bufus GrisWoW. He had compiled the books called "The Female Prose writers" and "The Female Poets of America." He was sharply on the lookout for every new genious in literature that appeared. He had visited the sisters in their Ohio home, and in ISoO had obtain a publisher for their first volume, and had added both their names, with selections from their poems, to his own "Poets of America." He knew everything necessary totheir success in the sphere of labor which they had chosen, while they practically kaew next to nothing. He encouraged and helped them in many ways, and thus command their gratitude. For Alice to incur a debt of gratitude was to pay it, even at the cost of her life. Yet even the good will of one type of man to a woman is often a misfortune. Her soul may be white as snow; yet he cannot take her innocent name upon his lips without smirching it with somewhat of his own vileness. His van" 1 1? V\*r I/11A twAmnn +111 lty QE8 LHJUU uatwivu uj iuiu numvu( nut conquest has not only become the habit, but the necessity, of his morbid and miserable soul; till, where he knows be has not won it, he yet is base enough to boast of it. Such a man (judging of every record left of him) was Iiufus W. Griswold. lie was a man of poetic temperament, of fine scholarship, of generous impulses, and in certain directions of rare gifts; yet j no less he was a man of fickle fancies, of violent tempfer, Which often fell upon hiW dearest friends r of monstrous vanity, and of tfngoverned pasfcionS. "I was never engaged to hitti ft &?friage;I never krted him," said AlicW Cafy tome. "1 could not have loveW such a man, though I learned him in hir best phases. As a friend I owed him much, and befcfre his death I found it in my power to pay back in part my large 4:bt of gratitude. When 1 6 rettfaid Uf New York, poor and sick, with certalif death before him, 1, with Miss , hired a room' and ntfrse for him. From that tfrey have the romaiitileiofy 6f ttf nursing him from unrequited love. It was* old Betsy Who nursed him. You know how big and strong she is; yet even she became worn out, for his sickness was long and very painfhl. Many unkind, even cruel things have been said became he willed to me his personal effects. Besides the bobift and pictures whicft he tfequeathed to the Historical Society, these were all that he possessd, and left to me not more out of personal regard than fromf a desire to repay as iar as be was able the money which I had expeuded for his' comfort during his long sickness. In the profoundest sense Alice dary never loved but once. The man whom' she loved is still alive; yet goesip with thfe keenest scent, has never fond or naatodf him. With all her fullness of affection, hers was an electric and solitary sotoL He who, by the very presence of his bsKing, was more to her than any other more tal could be, might passed from her life; but no other could ever take his placnA proud and prosperous family brought' all their pride and power to bear on a son to prevent his marrying a girl unedocated, rustic, and poor. "I waited for one * who never came back," she said, "yet I 1 believe he would come until I read in a J paper his marriage ti Another. Can yon think what fife would be?loving one, waiting for one who would never come." He did come at last. I saw him. Hia wife had died. Alice was dying. TUb gray-haired man sat down beside the grayhaired moman. Life had dealt prosperously with him, as is its wont with men. Suffering and death had all from her save the luster of her woadrotff eyes. Froor her wau and wasted face they shone upon1 him full of tenderness and youth. Thn* they met, with life behind them?the^ who parted plighted lovers when life wa* young. He was the man whom she forgave for her blighted and weary life, with? a smile of parting as divine as ever lit the? face of woman. Fashionable Woia#s foyer*. Strengthen my husband, aad may hirfaith and his money hold out to the last Draw the lamb's wool or UMtopirfoua' twilight over his eyes, that mi flhrtationr may look to him like viktorya, and that ' mi bills may strengthen his pride to m. Bless, 0 Fortune, my krimpe, rats and! friz^zers, and let thi glory shine ew ml paint and poWder. When I walk out before the ga4e of vulger men, regulate my Wiggle, and add nu grace to mi gaiters. When I bow miself in worship, gritet that I may do it With ravishing elegencey 4 and preserve into tlW last the lily white of mi flesh and the taper of my finger*. Destroy mine enemies with the gaul of jealos y, and eat thou up with the teeth of envy all those who gaze at mi style. Save me from wrinkles, and foster my plumpness. Fill my both e^es, oh Fortune with the plaintive pizbu ov infatuaahun, that I may lay out my victims, the men, a* knub as images graven. Let the lily and the rose strfve together on mi cheek and may ml neck swim like a: goose on the buzzum of trystii water. ^ Enable me, eh fortune, to wear shoe* still a little smaller and sate from all korns and bunyons. Bless Fanny, mi lapdog, ten! rain dowtt bczoms of destruchun upon these whu would hurt a hair ov Rectof, mi kitten.Smile, oh Fortune, most sWeetfy trpotf Dick, mi tanary, atod watch over, witb the fondness of a mother, mi two lDy white mice with red eyes. M Enable the poor to shirk for them V selves, and save me from ail missionary M beggars. ^ Shed the light of thi countenance or* mi kammers hair shawl, mi lavender silk mi point lace and mi neck-lace or dia* monds, and keep the moths oat or rxrf ' sable, I beseech thee, oh Fortune t / %