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THE SMOKY HILL AND REPUBLICAN UNION.
"TVE JOIN OURSELVES TO NO PARTY THAT DOES NOT CARRY THE JFLAG, AND KEEP STEP TO THE MUSIC OF THE UNION." Volume II. JUNCTION CITY, -RTAlNrSAS, SATUEDAY, DECEMBER 20, 1862. Number 8. PCBUSnED EVEBY gATCEDAT KOHynTG BT Wil.S.BLAKELY, - - - GEO. "Vv MARTIN. -A.t Junction City, Kansas. OFFICE IN BRICK BCILDING. CORNER OF SEVENTH & WASHINGTON St's. TEEMS OF SCBeCEIPTIOX : One copy, one year, .... $2.00 Ten copies, one year, - 15.00 Payment required in all cases in advance. All papers discontinued at the expiration of the time for which payment is received. TERMS OF ADVERTISING : One square, first insertion, - . - $1.00 Each subsequent insertion, 50 Ten lines or less being a square. Yearly advertisements inserted on liberal terms. job"woek done -with dispatch, and in the latest style of the art. J UTT Payment required delivery. for all Job "Work on CALEB GBAYMARSH. BV MARY KYLE DALLAS. Old Caleb Graymarsh dwelt in the New England village of M , bard by his own stone- walled, black-chimneyed factory,whicb belched forth fire and smoke all day, and shone like some ogre's palace half the night with the fires and lights which glimmered through the windows, and shed a crimson gleam over the waste and barren land about the building. For it was a stirring place, this factory, and work people were there among the whirring machinery night and day. Stronir, stalwart fellows, with be grimed hands and faces old men, who could just totter up the stairs women, tidy and trim, and some of them very pretty, and little children, who, had they been born of wealthy parents, would only have been permitted to leave the nursery under the guardianship of a maid. There was occupation for all M at the great fac tory, and, in the eyes of his employee?, Caleb Graymarsh was a man of mighty wealth and power. Fabulous tales were told of his possessions in real estate, and the women folks hud a legend amongst thera that the tea service, which some had seen glittering on the factory tabic, was made of solid dollar?, melted down for the express purpose, and that throughout the house the furniture was covered with real silk velvet. It was a pity, they said, that poor Mrs. Graymarsh could not have lived to see all this, but rfad died when Caleb was a young man struggling for the fortune which was now his. A few years before Cure bad been a tiraple white slab in the old graveyaid, bearing the words: " lvttty Graymarsh, aged 20." But of late, a splendid marble monument had arisen there, with a flowery inscription upon its face, and the figure of an angel bending over it. A showy thing, with nothing artistic about it; yet though that dead girl who would have been an elderly womnn by that time bad she lived, slept no more peacefully beneath the costly structure than she had beneath the simple slab, there was something touching in the sight when one thought that by its erection the old man had striven to make his lost wife participate in the only possible way in the wealth which he so valued. It is hard to think of most old business men as young lovers strange to believe that smiles or frowns from one woman were once of greater moment to them than the riso or fall of stocks has now become. And the grim old factor, whose brows were puck ered into a continual frown, and whose mouth had become a straight, stern line, with groove-like wrinkles on either side of it, scarcely looked like " the hero of a love tale." Yet Caleb Graymarsh had been young once, and had loved his little Kitty with a strong manly earnestness. She was tho sole lovo of his life, the only woman who had ever made his heart beat. When he won her, siinplo country girl that she was, no monarch was ever fonder of his Cjucen, although all but his wife believed him cold-hearted, and wondered what charm young blue-eyed Hetty had found in his stern face. Only Caleb Graymarsh himself knew how well he loved his wife, and, when the sod was piled above her breast, he knelt above it, tearless and speechless, and prayed silently that God would let him die also. We talk of wishing for death very often, but only those who have drained the cup of suffering to the very dregs ever pray for it so earnestly that they would not shrink nd tremble if their sinful prayer were answer ed, and the bolt from heaven were seen descending. One of those rare and terrible moments came to Caleb Graymarsh as ho knelt above his young wife's grave, but none who knew him ever guessed it. They saw, a few moments afterwards, a plain, homely workingman, with a crapo about his hat, riso to his feet, and plod slowly homeward, alid, seeing no tears in his eyes and bearing no complaint from his lip?, thought he did not feel much, and so left bim. And Caleb Graymarsb, having no living kindred, and not being at that time rich enough to have made friends, took the wailing baby from the woman who bad cared for it while he followed its mother to the grave, and nursed it all chat night, feeling a strange comfort in the soft cheek he held against his own, and in the uncon ecIous trifling of those tiny fingers about his ftce. He had thought very little of the baby while his wife lived : save as a pet and play thing, it was well enough for him to have, but now he experienced a new feeling to wards it. It was part of her. Their mutual love had created it. It would grow, per haps, to have her form and features. He wished it were a girl instead of a boy ; and yet even now he felt that he was not quite desolate, since God had left him this. And so, when the morning dawned, and the golden sunbeams crept through the bed room window, they fell on Caleb Graymarsh fast asleep with bis baby on his bosom. He put the child to nurse nest day, and went about his work, as usual. Whatever were his feelings, he never spoke of them to an' one, and, young as he was, he had a grim, unsocial way with him which encour aged no one to seek his confidence. On Sundays, instead of going with most of the other men to drink and frolic, or joining the few more sober-minded at church, Caleb Graymarsh went to the country place where his baby was at nurse, and kept it with him under the green trees all day long. And the child, unconscious as it really must have been, was so strangely happy and contented that one might easily have harbored the belief that its little eyes saw what other eyes couia not see, nna reaa the tender secret of that rough workingman's soul. Year after year passed by, and plodding care and industry helped Caleb Graymarsb to climb the ladder of fortune. At first, some deft handiwork brought him higher wages; then ho becamo foreman, ana at last a partner in the very establishment which he had first entered a friendless boy, ordered and cuffed about by any one who choose to take the trouble. The steps were short and easy after this, and, twenty years from the day on which he had knelt beside his young wife s grave, the black chimneys of his own factory arose above the roofs of the trim New England town, and people spoke of Caleb Graymarsh as a person of wealth and influence. In his life, this man had married two strong passions the love for his dead wife and the greed of wealth : not a miser's love of hoarding, but the pride of possession. Caleb Graymarsh liked to sec envious eyes turned upon him, and was fond of boasting and display. Very little sympathy had he, either, for a poor man. What he had done he believed that others might do also. Those who worked for him knew this, and expected no kindness from him. He was strictly just, and sometimes even rewarded success by liberality ; but ho never com passionated failure or misfortune. Few heartily liked him, but all, with one accord seemed to warm towards his son, young Harry Graymarsh, a genial, good humored fellow, just come to man's estate, and hand some enough to turn the heads of all the girls in M . He was as Caleb had hoped he might be, his mother's image, lie had her blue eyes and fair hair, her gentle smile and impulsive heart. Old Caleb had merely education enough to ena ble him to read and write and cipher in an imperfect manner; but his son had been taught as well and thoroughly as any lad throughout the land. The grim factor looked what he was, n workingman risen to prosperous circumstances and wearing good clothes, but the son, strange to say, might have been of roval blood for any thing you could have guessed to the contrary. In European lands, a peasant's child looks always like a peasant, and the fea tures of an artist's son betrays his lineage ; but here, I know not why, a man needs only a pretty mother and a good education to look from head to foot a gentleman. Once home from college, young Harry Graymarsh was often seen in the factory, passing, with a kindly look and laugh, along the ranks of grimy workmen who toiled in the lower part of the building, or pausing to chat with some blushing girl who moved with light step and graceful arms, bare to the dimpled elbow, amongst the whirring wheels and springs upon the upper floor. Even the bent old men and the pale factory children had a word or two from him, and many a comfortable blanket or warm shawl found its way, at Christmas time, to the dwelling of some poor old workman " dreadful bad with the rheuraa tiz," at the bidding of Master Harry. There came at last among6t the forces in the woman's room one which, to the eyes of Harry Graymarsh, was wonderfully beau tiful. An Italian sort of face, with liquid black eyes, and hair so dark that there was a purple gloss upon it in the sunshine. It was the face which first attracted the factor's son, but it was the soul which riveted the chain which beauty first twined around his heart. She was not ignorant, and poor though she was, there was an innate refinement in her every movement. And so, by slow degrees, from a casual interchange of words, they came to whispered conversations by the river side, and long summer evening rambles in the great green woods, and, before long, he bad told her how beautiful she seemed to him, and how tenderly he loved her ; and the girl, by blushes and silence rather than by words, had revealed the secret of her heart to him. And then, one glorious day, when the sun was setting and great flocks of birds were flying home ward across the cloudless sky whea the distant mountains were all flam m3 aranr quivering leaf upon the tree tops was a shimmering point of gold, Harry Gray-1 marsh and Alice Lee were betrothed to each other; and so perfectly did she love him and trust his love for her, that she never thought, " He is rich and lam poor' bnt only, " He loves me 1" Whether in those summer rambles Harry Graymarsb ever thought of his father, I do not know. He had never been thwarted by him in all his life, and perhaps he could not imagine that the rod of parental authority should first be wielded in a matter of such import; besides, what was there in beauti ful, modest Alice Lee to awaken any one's aversion? Certain it is that, when one evening, sitting on the bank beside the river, with his arm about the waist of his betrothed, Harry lifted his eyes and saw his father standing behind him. He felt bashful and confused, but not alarmed. The old man vanished as softly as he appeared, and Alice did not even see him, but a storm was brewing, and it broke over Harry's head that very evening. " Do you know that you are tho son of the richest man in the place ?" said Gray marsh, standing crimson with rage before bis son ; ' that you might marry an heir ess if you like ? and here I find you making love to a girl in my own factory, and you say you mean to marry her you actually say that to my face 1" " I repeat it," replied Harry, " we are betrothed !" There were hot words between the father and son after that ; taunts and reproaches, the first which had ever passed their lips, and the sun went down upon their wrath. They parted for the night in anger, and neither slept. It is an awful thing when those who love first quarrel, and wounds are made which are the harder to heal for the memory of past tenderness. Old Gray marsh bad been in his own way a tender father, and Harry always a dutiful son. A stern parent and a bad child could have been reconciled more easily. Since affluence had given him the oppor tunity to be more idle, old Caleb had felt some touches of the gout, and one of them twinged and tweaked him the next morn ing. Therefore he sent a grudging message to Harry, telling him that he must go in his place to the factory that morning, and received an angry but obedient answer. Then, before Harry was off, a servant left the house with a note for Alice Lee, bid ding her not to go to work that day, but present herself before him in an hour's time. She must be got rid off, he thought, He would bribe her to go to some distant place. This common factory-girl could not wed his Harry, But when she stood be fore him in her modest beauty, it was very hard to speak to her as he had intended. This was no coarse creature ambitious of wealth and sotting snares for the rich man's son; something of the soul of Harry's dead mother shone upon the old man from her earnest eyes, and he felt softened. They were together in a little loom, the windows of which looked upon the factory, Bhe standing near the casement with her bon net, and her eyes fixed upon the dark pile ; he seated at the table trifling with some papers and wondering how to begin. In the silence, the whir, whir, whir of the machinery came plainly to their cars, and Caleb thought the noiso was strangely loud and distinct. He remembered that impres sion long after, and wondered tbat.it did not trouble him more at the moment. As it was, he only thought " What shall I say ? Why does that girl in her shabby dress look so much like a lady that I am afraid of insulting her by words which seemed so easy a while ago?" Softened though Caleb was, be was still a grim, hard old man, and his mind had been made up too firmly to change it now. He opened his lips, closed them again, cleared his throat, and began : " Miss Alice Lee, I have something to say to you. I shall makeyou angry, I suppose, but I can't help it. You'll please attend to roe." She did not look at him, but stood star ing, in an awful manner, from the window. "I'm speaking to you. Do you hear me?" the old man repeated; but before the words had left bis lips Alice had turned and caught him by the arm, and there was an awful roar, like the voice of some fiend, an explosion which shook the house, a chorus of wailing screams and groans, and then a terrible silence. There were great black torrents of smoke pouring from the windows of the factory, and the wall to ward the side where most of the great engines were, bulged, and tottered, and fell, and the roof caved in, and before them in an instant, as though some fiend had been at work, stood a ruin, black and horrible, smoking and steaming, and seeming with its awful, yawning jaws to groan and scream. And from the lips of the father and those of the betrothed maiden broke one word, simultaneously-" Harry." It united them in their great love and terror. They clung together, feeling the link between them for the first time. Both loved him, and he oh! what was he now? a living, breathing being, or a mass of crush ed flesb, senseless helpless, lost to them forever? Together they rushed out into the open air, seeking him or what remained of him. Oh, the awful sight that summer sun shone upon ! Men, dead and dying, crush ed aad mutilated, lay stretched upon the ground The women of the village came poqring through the streets, some .with their bare arms wet with soap-suds, some with babies on their bosoms, wailing and shrieking, sobbing and fainting, clinging to corpses which an hour before bad been breathing men, peering with livid faces into horrible black hollows in the wall whence bands and feet protruded, listening for groans under those piles of rubbish, that they might hear the voice of some beloved one amm those awful sounds ; and there, amidst the ruins of his mighty factory, stood the old man, calling aloud for help to save his Harry. "There's no hope for him, sir," said one of the few workmen who remained unhurt. " He was in the cellar. He went down to sec what was the matter, when the odd noise first began, and never came up again." " Hush !" cried the old man. " Do you dare to tell me there is no hope ! They shall save Harry !" And then turning to the trembling girl beside him, he repeated, in a caressing way, " Never fear, my lass, they shall save Harry ; and he shall have you or what else he likes. I'll never thwart him again. But if there is a God above U9, he'll save my Harry." This was the burden of his talk, while laborers were hard at work digging away the rubbish and bringing out dead bodies. Men ground to pulpy horrors; beautiful girls torn limb from limb! and children so alike in this awful death that every one was claimed and struggled for by twenty mothers. All day they dug and lifted iron weights and masses of stone, but there was no sign of Harry's body yet. At the bottom of that awful pile, no doubt, he lay mangled into shapelessness. Alice knew that it must be so, but the old man kept saying still: They shall save Harry." Dusk had come, and they worked by torchlight now. All had been found dead or dying, wounded and maimed. They were carried to their homes. Yet still the crowd were thick about the ruin, waiting for the moment when what wa3 left of Harry Graymarsh should bo brought into the open air. An awful silence reijined only the ciink of spade and pickaxe broke it. Suddenly there was a shout, a lifting of those hundred vo'ces. They had come to the lower floor of the building, and part of it remained entire. There was a little hope; yes, more than a little for, listening, they heard a faint voice calling to them, so it seemed, though the words were inaudible. Faster now: there arc great rafters to lift and piles of stone and machinery to cast out, But that voice inspires them. They work as they never worked before, and at last they hear the cry again. It comes from the part of tho cellar where the floor yet remains. And one great man, crouching on his face, forces himself down into the blackness and screams : " Who is there ?" And the answer is returned from the awful cavern : " Harry Graymarsh; help me if you can." Then the men came out with a glorious shout, and set to work like giants; and even women came to help, as they thought of the fair young face buried in that dark ness. He may be maimed and wounded, but at least he lives. And there is no pause, no respite from that toil. At an other time many there would faint beneath it, but not now, for every lifted stone brings them closer to the buried man and gives bim a firmer lease on life. As the morning broke the last is heaved aside, and the bronzed giant, who before crept into the cavern leaps down, and vanishes into the shadows. Silence, in which you might hear a pin fall or a heart beat sihnce that freezes the blood and then, breaking upon it, a wo man's scream: a shriek from the lips of Alice, as they bring the form of her lover, blood-stained and senseless, to the light. Not dead, oh, no! she thanked God for that. The great beams had protected him. He was bruised and'wounded, but not mor tally; and in a little while his blue eyes opened, and his pale lips whispered: "Father!" Then the old factor, kneeling by his child as he had knelt upon his dead wife's grave so long ago, took the white hand of Alice in his own and placed in his son's. " She is yours," he said ; " take her, Harry, and be happy. Wealth isn't worth as much as love. I should have known that all along, remembering Hetty. Live, Harry ! only live ! and I'll never do any thing to grieve you !" And Harry did live. Long before the winter snows had come he stood a little paler and thinner than before, perhaps, but well and strong again before the altar of the little church with Alice by his side; and that night, when the moon was high, and no one watched him but the angels, the old factor stood beside his Hetty's grave, and whispered words of yearning love, which told that the soul of the young lover onlv slumbered in its iron-bound case, and that when death should set it free it would rise, pure and unsullied, to meet its angel wife in Heaven. A. T. Sunday Times. Asses. By the last census there was but one ass in the State of Rhode Islaad to 27,000 in tho State of South Carolina; aid whoever is at a loss to account for the rebellion, should aotice the prevalence of that feciaa in all the rebel Staie,Tid Report, p. 198. Providence Journal. lord Brougham on the War. At the recent inauguration of the Lord Mayor of London, Lord Brougham spoke as follows regarding America : That cruel and unnatural war, which is afflicting us so many miles off, is one of the most lamentable events of our day. I do not pretend to know more than my noble friend at the head of the Government, who has admitted that be cannot predict any speedy termination to the conflict. Eng land and France have looked with perfect feeling of kindness and friendship toward both the contending parties, for which rea son, perhaps, they arc not much liked by either. Laughter. But if there be little chance ot any effectual advice being given, or of any intervention of another descrip tion being come to by the powers of Europe, at least let them listen to their own advo cates m this country we who supported them half a century ago, when no one else said a word in their favor we, who were charged with being almost seditious, if not treasonable, advocates of America, and against our own country in the disputes then existing; let them listen to our advice, to our strong and earnest entreaty, that they would as speedily as possible put an end to this cruel and unnatural war. And I will tell them that besides the ordinary evils of war beside the waste of blood and treasure, the suffering of every kind, the anxieties and miseries involved upon the whole country, and which they ought, by all means, speedily to terminate, there is another risk which they run, and which they run more and more every month that this contest is continuing I mean the increased number of armed men habituated to bloodshed, rapine and every sort of violence, and in whom these habits arc becoming their second and savage nature. Then nc shall see the whole of America consist of armed men brought up in war, and in the habits which war engenders. There is nothing worse than the tyranny cf an armed mob. Cheers. Theirs would be the worst kind of a yoke under which men could live, and the worst foe to civil liberty. For Heaven's sake, for their own sake, for humani'y's sake, I trust they will escape a fate at once so deplorable and so degrading. "WAB FRAZES." Josh Billings takes a logikal vu of war frazes : ''On tu Richmond," that is to say, if the kussed rebels will allow it. " Parallel lines," are them kind of lines that never kum together. "Militara necessita' 10 ofiser and a gal on of whiska to every 3 privates. " Onluce the dogs of war," but muzzle the darn krittcrs ; if you don't somebody will get hurt. " War of exterminasbun," this fraze be longs wholly tho to kommisara department. " Advanse Gard," this is a gard tha hav tu hav in our anna tu keep our fellers from pitchin intu the enemy fruntwards. " Rere Gard," this is a gard tha hav tu hav tu keep our fellers, when tha are sur rounded, from pitchin into the enema back wards. " Awl quiet on the Pottermuck," this shows what perfeck subjeckshun our fellers are under. " Militara straterga," trying tu reduce a swamp by ketchin' the bilyour fever out of it. '' Pickets," these are chaps that are cent out to borry turbacker of the cnoma, and tu see if the cussed rebels has got a pass, 3T A young man, seeking employment, went to one of our large cities, and on en quiring at a certain counting room if they wished a clerk, was told they did not. On mentioning the recommendations he had, one of which was from a highly respecta ble citizen, he desired to see them. In turning over his carpet bag to find his let ters, a book rolled out on the floor. " What book is that?" said the merchant. " It is the Bible, sir." " And what are you going to do with that book in New York ?" The lad looked seriously into the mer chant's face, and replied : "I promised my mother I would read it every day, and I shall do it " The merchant immediately engaged his services. gST The rebel Semmes has a daughter now nt school in Philadelphia, his wife and two sisters in Washington, while he is roaming the ocean, sinking, burning and destroying everything that crosses his path bearing the American flag that flag that covers and protects his family. m m m 15-A sprightly editress, in reply to a correspondent who asks her if she wears hoops, exclaims : " Hoops, indeed ! why, we don't uccar anything else !" The italics are her own. We suppose she tells the naked truth. Two Quaker girls of our acquaint ance ware ironing on the same table. One asked the other which side Bhe would take, the right or left. She answered promptly, u It will be right for thee to take the left, and then it will be left for me to take the right." W9 " I will kiss you Eve' amid the comauon father of us all to our common mother. -' Tdbn't care, A-ddm, if you do.r TAKING OF FBSDERICESBUSO. Dispatches from the headquarters of tho Army of the Potomac, dated Dec. llth, 9 A. M., say : Everything last night was bustle and actnity, as to-day was the time fixed for crossing the rior. During tho night pontoons were carried to the river, and the artillery, consisting of 143 pieces, placed opposite the city. At five this morning the rebels fired two signal guns, and during the latter part of the night pickets were frequently seen within their lines. At five o'clock the construction of threo bridges was commenced in front of the city. When the bridges were about half completed, the enemy commenced opening a murderous fire of infantry from the houses on the river bank. Up to this time not a shot had been fired from our side. The engineers wero driven from the bridges, and several wero killed and wounded. At six o'clock Gen. Burnside ordered all the guns to be opened on the city. Tho cannonade, which was continued to the present time, is terrible. The city is ou fire, and its destruction ap pears certain. About 7, A. M., the enemy opened with their heavy guns from their works, but so far they have dene no sorious injury. Gen. Franklin constructed his bridges about three miles below the city, meeting with but slight opposition. His troops aro now crossing, and the gunboats arc shelling the enemy for fifteen miles down tho river, where they have becu concentrating their forces for the past few days. The concen trated fire of our batteries on the city ha3 had tho effect of driving back tho enemy's infantry, and tho work on tho bridges has been commenced again. The troops arc all under arms near the river, prepared to rush across as soon as the bridges are completed. Later Thursday Nook. On an at tempt being made to finish the bridges in front of the city, the rebel infantry again opened their fire, when our artillery in position again opened on the city, the'resulfc being that the city was fired in several new places. The enemy has used very littlo artillerv un to this time, as it would en danger their men who are holding the river front. Gen. Burnside has just issued an order to concentrate every gun upon the city, un der cover of which it is believed the bridges can be finished. The killed and wounded do not amount to more than fifty men. Still Later Evening. But littlo firing took place between one and two o'clock, during which time all the available batteries were placed in position, number ing 17G guns. At a signal all opened on the city. The fire was terrible, but still tho rebel sharpshooters could not be driven from their biding places. The shot and shell went through tho houses, in many cases setting them on fire and causing a dense smoke, which, together with the explosion of so largo a quantity of gun powder, almost hid the city from view. fc. It soon became evident that the bridges could not be built except by a hold dash. Volunteers were called for to cross the river in small boats. The order was no sooner given than hundreds stepped forward, but could not all go. About one hundred wero soon on their way, while the artillery threw a perfect shower of hail on the other side. They reached the oppesite shore, but not without loss. With fixed bayonets the' rushed upon the enemy, killing and taking 101 prisoner., who were safely land ed on this side. At half-past four two bridges were fin ished opposite the city, when tho troops immediately began to .cross over. Tho enemy were soon driven from their city back to their line of works. The two bridges in front of Gen. Frank lin were successfully laid early in the day, but his troops did not cross until the two upper one3 were ready. A sufficient forca is now on the opposite side of the river to resist any attack that is likely to bo made. The rebels fired but two guns in the morn ing, and none in the afternoon, although their works were in easy range. During the forenoon the rebels burned the railroad bridge outside the city. Between thirty and forty houses were burnt in the business part of the city. During the day -between 8,000 and 9,000 rounds of ammunition were fired by our artillery. A special from Washington to the Phila delphia Press, dated the llth, states that private dispatches received to-night from Fredericksburg, say the greater part of Franklin's division crossed safely, throwing nut pickets to those of Hooker's at Freder icksburg. The city is on fire, but it is thcught that mo3t of the buildings can be saved. The enemy has been skirmishing all day with our advance, but are gradually falling back. Our losses have been insig nificant as far as known, Gen. Park telegraphs : We are in full possession of Fredericksburg to night, and our troops are crossing rapidly. The whole army will be over leady to engage the enemy to-morrow. )9 A Western paper says : " We want to buy a good coon and possum dog, to hunt our meat with during the year. It is fool ish for a man to think about buying hog meat, who is priatiog a newspaper for $2 a year. A dog that will hunt' coon, poMOm, and kill a aheep occasionally, will coumand a good price at these "headquarters."