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New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899, March 05, 1865, Image 6

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(Written tor tfce N ,iw Yorfc Disnatcn. ■
e yRsE L v E 8 ‘
By a C. Howard
deling to have ever been,
-Are we truly what we seemY .
SuUtancefl from shadows torn,
fflhadee from gabstancee re-bonh
Care, dispel thy murky gloom,
Cheerfulness, oar paui luunw,
Where is nothing ? answer Fate!
‘•Nowhere.” all thingsautidate.
Partic-es through space al oved,
Atoms, unseen, nndestroved.
Sumptuously the least prepare,
Fame and Glory will be there.
Why ghould this flesh-boat of our»
Tax so the inventive powers f
Life is but. a babbie ki f e.
Blown from nature’s changing pipe.
True to love and friendship cling,
Fortune, keep thy golden wing.
Busy elements are we,
Transforming perpetually,
Beit-propelling fora time.
Then tossed up through every clime.
Propagation, lead the way.
Rapture, every moment sway.
Lightning-like we dart through spaed,
Jn the planetary race.
Till at last the mar rowed bone
Changes to the calcined stone.
Cail the dance! the dazzling hall
Lights ns onward to the bail.
In the strata of the rock
We’ll escape the earthquake’s shock:
’Midst the buried dust we’ll find
Shelter from the rain and wind.
Reason, calm the youthful breast,
Pleasures, revel into rest.
* Near the portals of the Tcmb
Springs forth an ethereal bloom:
Round some stem whose withering flower
Was love’s life-toy for an hour.
Pass the goblet; let us drink—
r oily ’tis to gneve or think.
Many prized have gone before,
Others tremble at the door,
Undecided here we stand
Boon to reach the unknown land.
Music, breathe thy sweetest strain
On the expiring heart and brain. «
We are hastening to the feast
Where eternity is priest.
There to g-irge the cankering worm
In the earth's revolving urn.
Tib the melody of prayer,
Sounds the last Trump on our ear.
[Written lor the New York Dispatch.]
No. 11.
[ Continued from Jan, 22,1865.]
Wall street has a world-wide reputation. In
the early days of New York’s history, the In
dians were in the habit of amusing themselves
by making raids into the territory of the ene
my, bringing with them the sword and brand,
and taking away with them plunder and the
dark-ey ed daughters of the white men. In or
der ia some measure to stop these unwelcome
incursions, a wail was built running across the
the island, and confining the city—if city it
then could be called—to the neighborhood of
the Battery. This wall was no more a secure
protection to the people from the Indian raids,
than was the wall .erected by the Britons to
atop the advance of the Picts and Scots. Never
theless, it was a wall, and the people felt se
cure. The sturdy burghers regarded this wall
as “ a big thing,” and would, no doubt, have
taken summary vengeance on any one who
ridiculed it, or, Remus-like, attempted to jump
over it.
As the city increased in population itcrawled
over more ground, and, as the fear of the In
dians subsided, the wall was torn down.; but
the name of the street on which the wall for
merly stood, was still retained—hence, Wall
street. It is singular what trivial events will
sometimes give birth to. In the naming of
streets, for instance, a lane, or footpath among
the trees, where ‘ ‘ true lovyers” of the olden
time indulged in the billing and cooing busi
ness, becomes Maiden’s Lane, or, as it now is,
Maiden Lane. A certain tree, found where a
street is to pass, gives the name to the street,
as Pine, Cedar, Walnut, Chestnut, etc. The
names of streets are oftentimes contracted. In
1812, and even later, our great thoroughfare
was called “The BroadWay,” in contradis
tinction to the small and narrow streets of the
•ity, and also as a definite distinct.on. The
words have now been run together, and form
Broadway. In Philadelphia, where everything
is done on purely mathematical principles—the
streets laid out at right angles, and good, old
fashioned, moral names tied to them—the good
people made a mistake, and forgot to name a
street or road which ran to the foot of the gal
lows—hard hearted wretches named it Gallows-
Hill Road ; but, suffering the clippings of time,
it is now Callowhill street. We might men
tion other singular contortions of names of
streets, had we space.
The first thing that attracts our attention as
we turn into Wall street is a bank, and this
naturally leads us to some reflections on the
nature and uses of banks.
The word • ‘ bank ” is from the Italian banco,
signifying a bench “ which was erected in the
market-place for the exchange of money,” from
which, when a banker was unable to meet his
obligations, we have the word “bankrupt;”
for his creditors broke his banco, or seat, and
the man had no place with the money
The first real bank where monies were de
posited, and a regular but rude system of bank
ing formed, was established in Italy in 808, by
the Lombard Jews. The Jews always have
been the bankers of the world, and long before
this Italian bank was formed bad adopted cer
tain rules for the government of exchange,
Loans, etc.
Haydn states that “the mint in the Tower
of London was anciently- the depositary for
merchants’ cash, until Charles I. laid his hands
upon the money and destroyed the credit of
the mint, in 1640. The traders were thus
driven to some other place of security for their
gold, which, when kept at home, their appren- .
tices frequently absconded with to the army.
In 1645, therefore, they consented to lodge it
with the goldsmiths in Lombard street, who
were provided with strong chests for their own
valuable wares; and this became the origin of
banking in England.” The goldsmiths in a
few years issued notes or acceptances which
passed “on change” for cash; they loaned
money to the nobles, king, and government,
and in a great degree neglecting their legiti
mate trade, became bankers and usurers on a
large scale. It was then determined to start a
bank where money could be deposited by every
one, and where loans could be obtained with
out extortionate rates of interest; and in 1694,
the Bank of England, after a most determined
opposition from the Whigs and Tories, began
its career as the first National Bank of En
gland—we can almost say as the first bank of
any description ; for the previous effect of the
Lombard street Jews Xvas only a discount bank
on usurious principles.
The first bank formed in the United States,
■was the Massachusetts Bank of Boston, in
1784 ; the first in New York was the Bank of
New York, in 1800 ; and next the Manhattan
Money is the powerful engine that moves
the world. For it men dig into the bowels of
the earth, “face the cannon’s mouth,” toil,
sweat, talk, preach, and pray. It supports
empires: and kings on trembling thrones; it
■causes blood to flow on battle fields, and the
assassin to murder sleep. It is the root of all
evil; but its chink has a glorious sound. It
drives away care and fear; buys up courts and
juries, principles, and also men.
The origin of money is buried in obscurity.
In the first instance, articles were exchanged,
bartered; this, however, becoming inconve
nient, for one party might wish to barter pro
perty which the other party did not require,
and a resert was had to something which
should pass current with each other, and the
most precious metal, goM, came into use. At
first it was not coined ; it was in the dust or
flattened into a cake, and each trader carried
his scales with him to weigh the gold offered
in payment for his wares. But it required
ekillfulness to detect pure gold from the adul
terated article ; hence, in. time, coins came
into use stamped with the king’s image or seal,
the counterfeiting of which' was felony, pun
ishable by death.
The Lydians were the first who coined mo
ney, and they used iron first, then copper.
“Athelstan first enacted regulations for the
government of the English mint, in A. D.
928.” The first gold coinage in England was
in the reign of Edward the Third. Tin was
coined by Charles the Second, and pewter by
James the First.
When the regulations of trade were found
ed on a firm basis it was discovered that the
quantity of precious metals was not adequate
for the demand, and hence a substitute was
adopted, bank notes—notes issued by banks or
brokers, a promise to pay the bearer, or the
order of a certain party on demand, a certain
tom of money in coin. Bank notes were
more easily carried on the person than coin.
A man can 'fold a million dollars into his
pocket-book, but a million dollars in gold
would be an extremely heavy burden.
Let the reader calculate how long it would
take a man to count a million if he counted
six thousand per hour, and continued at it
twelve hours per day, or how many pounds it
■would weigh taking as a basis sixteen dollar's
to an ounce.
Lyerugus endeavored to restrain on J destroy
the love of money in his subjects by institu
ting an iron coinage, the bars being so large
and the value so small that the worth of a
dollar would cause a man to stagger under the
_ • It is uncertain when paper money first came
into use. In 1483, when the Gristle of Al
hambra was beseiged by the Moors, and the
Spaniards were completely wailed up, the
large army of turbans outside appearing in
numbers like sand on the desert—when all the
money in the treasury was gone, and the
troops had not the “ wherewithal” to pur
chase necessaries from the people of the cita
del—rhe Count of Tendilla, captain of the
garrison, issued small pieces of paper with
certain amounts inscribed thereon, and signed
them with bis own hand. These papers he
paid the soldiers, issuing a proclamation that
all persons should receive them in payment,
‘ ‘ promising to redeem them at some future
time in silver and gold, and threatening severe
punishment to who should refuse’ ’ to receive
them nt par.
In England, France, United States, and al
most all the Southern Republics, nearly all
business is transacted with paper currency.
The banking laws of the State of Now
Yr rk are the most perfect known. For every
dr liar issued in notes by a bank, the value of
one dollar in State or government stocks
must be deposited with the Bank Superinten
dent at Albany, so that if the bank fails the
note-holders are secure. The bank also makes
out of the transaction, as it receives the inter
est on the stocks so deposited. The National
banks are formed on the same principle, and
are fast superseding the State organizations.
There are two kinds of banks, savings and
banks of issue and deposit. Savings banks
receive deposits, allowing yearly interest there
on, the other receive deposits payable on call,
issue bank notes, discount commercial paper
cr notes, issue drafts onfother cities, and make
The whole system of banking in the United
States is the most perfect and secure of any
other in the world. If Congress, however,
should authorize the issue of many more
greenbacks, confidence might be lost, and as
far as the system goes we should have splen
did machinery in a burning factory.
After passing the bunk at the head of the
street our attention is attracted by a long line
of insurance companies running down the
street, and climbing from basement to second
loft. Every one of these companies is of
course “ a sound affair,” the capital is always
fully raid in, and securely invested, there is
always a large surplus on hand, and the di
rectors are all “ honorable men,” moving in
the first circles, and bred up to the business.
Now the truth is, that generally speaking,
the presidents, cashiers and secretaries of
banks and insurance companies are- the pro
ductions of failures. They have financed,
done a large business on little or ho capital,
burnt their fingers in fancy stocks, exchanged
notes and checks, borrowed, kited, skinned,
until bankruptcy has placed the sheriff in pos
session of the marble store, and in a few in
stances their families in fine houses on Fifth
avenue. Having passed through this school,
they are considered “graduated,” and fitted
for positions as officers in any stock company.
Having passed through the danger themselves
they should know how to steer clear of Cha
rybdis in the future. Sometimes in bogus com
panies they run the mill too hard and grind
the stockholders to powder.
It is singular what a large number of .old
and worn out clerks some banks and insur
ance companies own, men who have entered
their employment in the bloom of youth and
have rotted away their health and ambition,
y ear after year, until wrinkles and white hair
strike them with dismay—who have toiled for
thirty y ears for the same stipend, stood at the
same desk, performed the same dull routine o
labor, became bold ; men who have the same
sickly grin; the same penchant for a baby a
year, and who die and leave no name or mon
ument in the busy market-place, or even in
the slave den of their life-long labor ; men
bom to be drudges, examples to the world
how men can bring up large families on miser
able pittances.
There are three kinds of insurance compa
nies—fire, marine and life. In England they
have railroad accident companies, that insure
you from accident or death from accident.
The company is always called the assurers,
the customer or person insured the assured, the
policy is the contrast between the parties, and
the premium is the sum of money paid to the
company as consideration for undertaking the
The great fire in London, which occurred
during the time of, and finally put an end to,
the plague, in 1666, gave rise t» what is called
fire insurance. It originated with a -builder,
who took small risks on houses at usurious
rates. Previous to this, however, a certain
very wealthy nobleman was advised to insure
seme of the houses in London against fire, but
objected, thinking he was tempting Provi
dence by so doing, like some ignorant people,
who think that if they insure their lives, their
lives will be shortened.
The first regular fire company in England
was the “ Hand-in-Hand,” in 1696. “ Sue
torious” conjectures that Claudius was the first
contriver of it, in A. D. 43. Insurance was in
general ueo in Italy in 1194, and in England
in 1560. Policies were first used in Florence,
in 1523. The above probably alludes to ma
rine insurance, which is more ancient than the
others. .
The first marine company in England was
the Amicable, originated in 1706, in Queen
Anne’s time.
In the small space allowed us, we cannot
well go into the peculiarities of marine insur
ance ; nor would the explanations of general
and particular averages, etc., be interesting to
the general reader. Volumes have been pub
lished on the subject, and on many points the
learned materially differ. In these short
sketches we merely give what is supposed to
flash across a man’s mind while taking a pass
ing glance. We wish to give information, but
at the same time have not space to go into
very minute details.
In England, the officers of the different
Marine companies and their customers were in
the habit of meeting at a coffee-house kept by
one Lloyd, and it was customary to say, “ Let
us go to Lloyd’s and insure such a vessel or
cargo.” In time the name was given to a
Board of Underwriters, who classed vessefe in
a book called “Lloyd’s Registery of Shipping,”
as, for instance : Ship Carlough Boydell, Boy
dell Master, built Clyde, 1864, 1200 tons, cop
pered and copper-fastened, three decks, rates
A 1 for five years. This rate is the high est
known, and shippers will, of course, give a
vessel of this class preference to one rating A
2, for there is an increase in the rate of pre
There is now quite a large building in Lon
don called “ Lloyd’s,” furnished with reading
rooms, and containing records of vessels, dir
sasters, etc., and receiving by every steame.
maritime accounts from all parts of the world-
Here brokers and shippers, and officers of com
panies meet and effect insurance on vessels,
cargoes, freights, profits on charters, etc.
Other nations have borrowed the name, some
for mercantile and some for insurance pur
poses, so we have North German Lloyds,
French Lloyds or Veritas, American Lloyds,
etc. g
No man can do a wiser thing than insure his
life ; it is a duty he owes to his wife and
Riches may take wings and all the labor of
a lifetime be as nothing, but with your life in
sured you can die content, knowing that your
family are provided for.
In our next, we pay a visit to the “ Bleeding
A Domestic Tragedy.—The Result
of a Wife’s Infidelity. —The Coos (N. H.) He
publican relates the details of a shocking domes
tic tragedy which occurred at West Milan, on the
25th ult. Tt appears that T. M. Lang, a soldier
of the Fifth Regiment, on returning at the ex
piration of three years’ service, rwas convinced of
his wife’s infidelity to her marriage vows, and,
after a painful altercation, received her confes
sion, implicating A. A. Higgins, of West Milan.
Lang vowed vengeance upon him, and left the
house. His wife, sending off the children, and
overcome by Qio discovery and conflicting emo- :
tions, descended to the cellar and hung herself '
with a skein of yarn. In this condition she was !
found on the return of her husband, who sum- I
moned in the neighbors, Mr. Higgins among
them. Declaring him (Higgins) to be the cause
of bis death and affliction, he threatened to take
his life, and aimed his musket for that purpose,
It was unloaded, but as Lang commenced load
ing, Higgins broke from the house, and imme
diately started for Canada. The deceased left
two little girls. Higgins also has a wife and
A Breach of Promise Case— The
Dublin Freeman’s Journal has a letter from
Athlone, suggesting rather an arbitrary mode of
•eettlingra breach of promise case. Thomas Fal
lon was courting the sister of James Gately, but
broke off the engagement. James Gately “ took
bis sister’s part” by waylaying Thomas Fallon
and firing a pistol at him. Fallon ran when he
saw his as sails nt but the o hr followed him and
fired twice, the cap snapping at first. The
charge passed the intended victim, and lodged
inthe door of a house close by. Gately and his
brother have been sent to Roscommon j ail upon
tbeihlcißMtioE of toe faithless Fallon,
Who of my young friends have read the sor
rowful story of “ Enoch Arden,” so sweetly
and simply told by the great English poet ? It
is the story of a man who went to sea, leaving
behind a sweet young wife and a little daugh
ter. He was cast away on a desert island,
where he remained several years, when he was
discovered and taken off by a passing vessel.
Coming back to his native town, he found his
wife married to an old playmate—a good man,
rich and honored, and with whom she was liv
ing happily. The poor man, unwilling to cause
her pam and perplexity, resolved not to make
himself known to her, and lived and died
a'one. The poem has reminded me of a very
similar story of my own New England neigh
borhood, which I have often heard, and which
I will try to tell, not in poetry, like Alfred
Tennyson’s, but in my own poor prose. I can
assure my leaders, that in its main particulars,
it is a true tale.
One bright summer morning, more than
three score years ago, David Matson, with his
young wife and his two healthy, barefooted
boys, stood on the bank of the river near their
<1 we ling. They were waiting there for Pela
tiah Curtis to come round, the Point with his
wherry, and take the husband and father to
the Port a few miles below. The Lively Tur
tle was about to sail on a voyage to Spain, and
David was to go in her as a mate. They stood
there in the level morning sunshine talking
cheerfully; but had you been near enough,
you could have seen tears in Anna Matson’s
blue eyes, for she loved her husband, and knew
there was always danger on the sea. And
David’s bluff, cheery voice trembled a little
now and then, for the honest sailor loved his
snug home on the Merrimack, with the dear
wife and her pretty boys. But presently the
wherry came alongside, and David was just
stepping into it, when he turned back to kiss
his wife and children once more.
“In with you, man,” said Pelatiah Curtis.
“ There’s no time for kissing and such fooleries
when the tide serves.” a!
And so they parted. Anna and the boys
went back to their home, and David to the
poit, whence he sailed off in the Lively Turtle.
And months passed, autumn followed the
summer, and winter the autumn, and then
spring came, and anon it was summer on the
river side, and he did not come back. And
another passed, and then the old sailors and
fishermen shook their' heads solemnly, and
said the Lively Turtle was a lost ship, and
would never come back to port. And poor
Anna had her bombazine gown dyed black and
her straw bonnet trimmed in mourning rib
bons, and thenceforth she was known only as
the Widow Matson.
And how was it all this time with David
himself 1
Now you must know that the Mohamme
dan people of Algiers, and Tripoli, and Moga
dore and Sallee, on the Barbary coast, had for
a long time been in the habit of fighting our
galleys and armed boats to seize upon the
merchant vessels of Christian nations, and
make slaves of their crews and passengers,
just as men calling themselves Christians in
America were sending vessels to Africa to catch
black slaves for their plantations. The Lively
Turtle fell into the hands of one of these rov
ing sea-robbers, and the crew was taken to Al
giers, and sold in the market-place as slaves,
poor David Matson among the rest.
When a boy he had learned the trade of a
ship carpenter with his father on the Merri
mack; and now he was set to work in the dock
yards. His master, who was naturally a kind
man, did not overwork him. He had daily
his three loavcf of bread, and when his cloth
ing was worn out, its place was supplied by
the coarse cloth of wool and camel’s hair
woven by the Barbary women. Three hours
before sunset he was released from work, and
Friday, which was the Mohammedan Sab
bath, was a day of entire rest. Once a year,
at the season called Ramadan, he was left at
leisure for a whole week. So time went on—
days, weeks, months and years. His dark hair
became gray. He still dreamed of his old
home on the Merrimack, and of his good Anna
and the boys. He wondered whether they yet
lived, what they thought of him, and what
they were doing. The hope of ever seeing
them grew fainter and fainter, and at last
nearly died out; and he resigned himself to
his fate as a slave for life.
But ’One day a handsome middle-aged gen
tleman, in the dress of one of his own coun
tryman, attended by a great officer of the Dey,
entered the ship-yard, and called up before him
the American captives. The stranger was none
other than Joel Barlow, Commissioner of the
United States to procure the liberation of slaves
belonging to that government. He took the
men by the hand as they came up, and told
them they were free. As you might expect,
the poor fellows were very grateful; some
laughed, some wept for joy, some shouted and
sang, and threw up their caps, while others,
with David Matson among them, knelt down
on the chips, and thanked God for the great
“This is a very affecting, scene,” said the
Commissioner, wiping his eyes.' “ I must keep
the impression of it for my Columbiad;” and
drawing out his tablet, he proceeded to write
on the spot an apostrophe to Freedom, which
afterward found a place in his great epic.
David Matson had saved a little money dur
ing his captivity, by odd jobs and work on ho
lidays. He got a passage to Malaga, where he
bought a nice shawl for his wife and a watch
for each of his boys. He then went to the
quay, where an American ship was lying just
ready to sail for Boston.
Almost the first man he saw on board was
Pelatiah Curtis, who had rowed him down to
the port seven years before. He found that
his old neighbor did not know him, so changed
was he with his long beard and Moorish dress,
whereupon, without telling his name, he be
gan to put questions about his old home, and
finally asked him if he knew a Mrs. Matson.
“I rather think I do,” said Pelatiah; “she’s
my wife.”
“Your wife!” cried the other. “She is
mine before God and man. lam David.Mat
son, and she is the mother of my children.”
“And mine, too!” said Pelatiah. “I left
her with a baby in her arms. If you are David
Matson, your right to her is outlawed ; at any
rate she is mine, and I am not the man to give
her up.”
“God is great!” said poor David Matson,
unconsciously repeating the familiar words of
Moslem submission. “His will be done. I
loved her, but I shall never see her again. Give
these, with my blessings to the good woman
and the boys.”
And he handed over with a sigh the little
bundle containing the gifts for his wife and
He shook bands with his rival.
“ Pelatiah,” he said, looking back as he left
the ship, “ be kind to Anna and my boys.”
“Ay, ay, sir!” responded the sailor, in a
careless tone. He watched the poor man pass
ing slowly up the narrow street until out of
sight. “ It’s a hard case for David,” he said,
helping himself to a fresh quid of tobacco,
“ but I’m glad I’ve seen the last of him.”
When Pelatiah Curtis reached home he told
Anna the story of her husband and laid his
gifts in her lap. She did not shriek nor faint,
for she was a healthy woman with strong
nerves; but she stole away by berself and wept
bitterly. She lived many years after, but could
never be persuaded to wear the pretty shawl
which the busband of her youth had sent as
his farewell gilt. There is, however, a tradi
tion that, in accordance with her dying wish,
it was wrapped about her poor old shoulders in
the coffin, and buried with her.
The little old bull’s eye watch, which is still
in the possession of one of her grandchildren,
is now all that remains to tell of David Mat
son—the lost man.
grw gubliatim
Leaves from the Note book of a New
York Detective. Edited by Dr. John B. Williams.
Dick & Fitzgerald.
In this volume we have a series of exceedingly interest
ing sketches—mainly made up from incidents gleaned by
a well known detective of the Police of this city. Wo arc
assured the stories are founded on fact—that, nothing is
exaggerated. However this may be, we can assure the
reader that the sketches whl be found unusually attract*
ive, and will give him not only curious adventures, but a
clear insight into the modus operandi by which crime in all
its phases, however cunningly or secretly conceived and
carried out, is sure to be encompassed and dragged to the
light by the adepts of the secret police of our city. The
“ Leaves” are published in Dick & Fitzgerald’s usual form
on clear, white paper and in large type.
Semmes, the Pirate,, and Pauline, the
Spy. J. R. Dawley, publisher. ‘•'fTSa
Wc have received from Dawley, novels with the above
titles, founded on Incider ts in the present war. which
will be found exceedingly attractive to those who are
fond of stirring narrative. The publications are gotten
up in elegant style, with illuminated covers. They are
flneiy and properly illustrated
It is stated «n good authority that
the Calcutta cyclone caused the loss of sixty thousand
lives. It is known, for example, that before the
Storm wave struck Sauger Island there were eight
thousand two hundred persons on It Whan it had passed,
only one thousand two hundred remained. This is only
©ne of the many places swept
Sadies' Tcpavtinnit,
Our Chat—The Dress Controversy.
—The members of our crinoline circle, doubtless,
►anticipate from us, this week, the “Fashion Gos
sip” with which we usually greet the first of the
month; but we are compelled to give them a
disappointment. As the regular millinery and
dry goods “ Opening” is deferred until the latter
portion of March, it is advisable to postpone too
giving of what intelligence and discoveries we
have made respecting the Spring modes until
that period.
At present, the theme that principally occupies
popular attention is the recent victories that
nave crowned the Union arms—our great suc
cesses including the fall of Charleston, and the
capture of Wilmington. Aside from the interest
felt here because of these facts being triumphs
to the Federalists, this Department has a par
ticular feeling in them, since they affect the dry
goods market, that indispensable to civilized
society. And it is not only the fashionable but
teiflieswho are concerned in this, but the econo
mizing matron, whose husband may have de
clined dabbling in petroleum, and whose income
it is her constant study to eke out to the utmost
possible extent, Aomen do love to talk of dry
goods, or “ dress,” as it is snserlngly titled by
immaculate masculinity. And who can dispute
their right, when it is such an important item in
tbeir particular sphere of being ? To the butter
fly aforesaid it may be a matter of vanity, and a
read to gratify a taste for extravagance; but
there is many a little wife whose limited resources
make necessary a continuous chat upon the topic
so offensive to “my lord’s” ears, that in the course
of “ beating about the bush ” she can discover
something that may be of vast importance
to her husband’s purse, at least; and, as a
natural consequence, to his comfort. A dress
controversy is, for the most part, quite amus
ing to a quiet listener. It affords an excel
lent channel for getting at individual tastes,
aspirations and principles. The particular
style of attire an individual may affect in par
son is not always a fair standard forjudging of
these attributes, as circumstances may do more
fpr this than the wearer’s will, but outspoken
comments, opinions, and hopes are generally
safe guides to set up for the paths of decision
respecting character. ■We should not think it a
very bad way for bachelors matrimonially in
clined to make trial of the material they are dis
posed to desire as helpmate in this valeof tears.
There is a poetry in dress as in flowers. A
woman’s taste in these matters makes her a vio
let, a lily, a rose, or a sunflower as the case may
be. If she have modesty, gentleness, and truo
refinement, it is through her fancies upon this
point that these characteristics will become visi
ble. If she is wanting in the balance with virtue,
gaudy, reckless, and unfamiliar with the peoul ar
delicacy that constitutes the most lovely feminine
natures, you mayreaditupon the sign,' her small
talk upon personal adornment hangs out before
you. It is generally accepted that women who
converse upon dress are those most fond of it.
To make this a settled conclusion before confirm
ing the suspicion by inquiry is unjust, because
circumstances have very much to' do with the
Low do we know when Mr. A., 8., or o’s spouse
is revolving over with her feminine friends the
mysterious intricacies of t e dress question but
that she is increasing her mental facilities by
taking little memoranda from her companions’
ideas and revelations, that are to be of considera
ble use to her in her arrangements for fitting out
the wardrobe of herself and family more advan
tageously to her monthly allowance from Mr. A.
8., or C’s funds than formerly.
The husband in question may have indulged
of late in a private growl over this portion of his
financial affairs ; perhaps put his foot down for a
curtailment of expenses, and the wife finding
persuasions vain, sets about like a skillful diplo
matist to gather knowledge to support her
through the coming struggle, from all the re
sources within her reach. Who can tell? It ia
quite unfair to pass ’judgment until we have
heard both sides of a story, and we are willing to
give the fair sex the benefit of the doubt. Don’t
tell us! Why, after all, we are not sure but that if
women do love dress, in moderation, of course, it
should be accepted as a kind of virtue by gentle
men. Don’t the latter think it a great bore if
their sweethearts, wives or daughters are not
well dressed ? and don’t the three classes in point
array themselves solely to please and satisfy the
criticizing eyes of the genus homo ? When did a
woman care for a woman’s opinion upon this
topic? Isn’t it her most apprehensive query,
whether James cr George, or whoever the “bear”
in question may be, will admire her ? and doesn’t
she care more for a smile from him than for the
most flattering compliments from the most im
portant woman in creation ?
A surly bachelor asks—why does she adopt
such monstrosities simply because fashion pro
poses them ? Why does she wear those detest
able “rats,” and “ mice” and “ waterfalls ? ’
Isn’t he to be pitied ?
Doesn’t he know that “ variety is toe spice of
life,” and as there is no accounting for the freaks
of masculine tastes, there must be some charm
to keep up a continual captivation, and she ac-.
cepts variety as the most powerful oue wi thin
her reach. If he doesn’t, we do, and we know
that she is generally successful in these little un
As the persistent inquiries of our correspond
ent exact from us a monthly report upon this
point, we do not know but we shall have to as
sign our information relative to it a particular
beading as above. The receipts of cotton from
Savannah after its return to the Union, so affect
ed prices as to produce a speedy decline. So
long as there is a prospect of further installments
cf this great staple reaching the North, this may
continue. The more recent, victories we have
alluded to, serve to keep up the fires of hope, but
yet it is hardly fair to give any strong encourage
ment until the public dibut of Spring materials.
And so as htretofore, the horizon looks dubious.
The very atmosphere about us is rank with Pe
troleum 1 Instead of the excitement that first
attracted our attention quietly subsiding, we find
it daily gaining ground, and try as we will to get
upon some other field, we are remorselessly car
ried back to this greasy territory. Doubtless
many will remember the time when it was*
considered highly impolitic to make finan
ciering, stocks, and speculation, the subject
of polite drawing-room conversations. The man
who committed so wretched a faux pas as to
overstep the boundary marked out for his lingual
peregrinations by etiquette, was set down as a
boor, a par venue who had ventured beyond his
proper sphere. Ladies elevated their arched
eyebrows in surprise, turned up their pretty lit
tle noses in scorn, and perhaps pouted indig
nantly ; but now the first interrogatory from a
fascinating pair of red lips, whose owner gush
ingly salutes us, is, “How is oil to-day?”
We confess to have been taken aback at first,
and after a little stare of amazement, intimated
a profound ignorance upon the liquid, us we
have not been a victim to the speculating mania
in this direction.
Our fair companion gives us the benefit of a
glance fraught with sublime pity.
“ Not know anything about oil! And you
haven’t any stock? And it is so fashionable,
too 1 Why pa has invested for me in the
and Petroleum Company 1 and on 1 I am
so anxious for the latest "news. Good morn
And the vision of bright eyes and crimson lips
vanishes like the famous “Gyges” of the wonder
ful Heller. We come to the conclusion we are
a nobody, which isn’t very consoling to even our
moderate ehare of vanity. Miss Aramintha meets
the exquisite Fred in her afternoon promenade,
or perhaps he leans in at her carriage window as
it stops at M’s or D’s, during her shopping ex
* Morning, Minty,” Bays he; “looking charm
ing ’pon my honor! But, tell mo, my dear crea
ture, has your pa said anything about those oil
shares, to-day?”
M’lle Aramintha being one of the incorrupti
ble fair ones, raises her perfumed cambric to her
dainty nostrils, and tells her sable coachman to
drive on, being disgusted with Fred and every
other masculine who touches upon oil.
But what do your friends care about you if yon
haven’t an interest in oil ? Simply nothing—you
haven’t a place in their thoughts. They quietly
drop you, or snub you so openly, you feel it a
duty to cut their acquaintance. It is a fashion
able frenzy, and, worse than all, it has as strong
a hold upon the feminine as upon the masculine
Have any of the Department indulged in oil?
We await the reply with considerable anxiety,
but we will venture to say thia odor of Petrole
um about us is suggestive that some one has
ventured to trouble the wells. We have boon
asked if there is any new color likely to be
brought out this Spring. We shouldn't wonder
if there was, and what should it be but oil col
or ?
There is a scarcity of truly poetic feeling now
a-daye, and it is not so very surprising cither.
But lately encountering one of the host—who
were wont to be inspired—and happening to
seek to know the cause of his dolorous visage,
he related his grievances after the following de
plorable manner : “Love’s labor’s lost. Where
now are the themes that were wont to set my
fancy in a blaze? the loveliness that waked my
spirit to such ecstatic dreams that poesy alone
could give to them expression ?” “ Loveliness,”
said we alarmed at the tragic countenance con
fronting us why it is all about us, just as of
old—tire radiant orbs, tbo ruby lipa, the golden
tresses or raven locks.” “ Aye, there’s tho rub !”
be interrupted. “ Whether it were better to bo
silent now, or to descend to mock the past. The
past when puffs and frizzles were not! when
topsies were unheard of, and padded cushions
upon women’s heads, but dismal dreams I can
no more. Oh mockery, mockery! “ Look on
this picture and then look on that I This Diane’s
curling ringlets, or Minerva’s classic braids— that
the portraiture of folly’s most eccentric fancies 1”
We gave him up in despair upon this as no
amount of reasoning could convince him of
there being an error in his own conception of
“ But the lips,” said we, “cherry, carmine,
carnation, what you will!” He shuddered —“ It
is vain, he persisted. “ They tempt me not,
neither cherry, carmine nor carnation, when
take them where and when I will there is naught
but “ oil” upon them. Shall I call that nectar as
I was wont to style the dew that brightened
them erewhile ? Neyer 1”
Common mortality must think that poet a fit
inmate for some lunatic asylum ; but in fact he
is only a gentleman with his ideas modelled af
ter those of the old school when women seemed
perchance if they were not, a little nearer the
angels than einoe the reign of modern sensa
Loyalty, that should set for its subjects an
example after which to model their lives, has in
England demonstrated itself to be very greedy
and grasping. Not satisfied with the immense
income they already enjoy, it is announced that
the Prince and Princess of Wales have petitioned
for an increase to meet their expenditures in
taking the place of the Queen, who has almost
entirely retiied from society.
We pity the people upon whose back the bur
i den must fall. Having had a taste of taxation
here, we are prepared to realize the weight it
fastens to one’s shoulders. How the sterner sex
do groan and lament when it comes to “ toeing
the mark,” although their own voices were the
first to speak in its favor. And if it was only
confined to such demonstrations ; but, instead,
households feel its unhappy influence, and sutler
in consequence. To the wealthy it is of very small
account; but, as everybody isn’t thus fortunate,
to many it becomes a positive terror. Now, it
has been mentioned that since the cause of the
complaint of the Prince and Princess [Originates
from sei vices performed for the Queen, the latter
might grant the sum in requisition from her vast
resources, and thus, in Christian charity, sp ire
her people this added burden. Victoria, upon
whom the woild has eo long looked as a model
wife, mother, and ruler, should not disappoint
the hopes that in this emergency are centered in
her alone. Will she, or will she not, prove the
ministering angel 1 It is part of a woman’s mis
sion upon earth to make herself beloved.
It is a sad fact that, previous to the present
century, when women have been vested with su
preme authority over nations, in but too many
instances they have cruelly abused their power,
and their death or downfall has been a theme for
general rejoicing. What has been the incentive ?
Weakness, innate barbarity, or corrupting influ
ences at work about them? The lilac or i b last,
usually, as most amply proved. No st»m like
this we have mentioned has ever attached itself
to the English sovereign. And let her but make
this comparatively little sacrifice now demanded
for the benefit of her people, and a thought and
a blessing will arise for her in every humble
dwelling within the limits of proud Albion. A
recompense not to be despised.
With a paragraph respecting Parisian modes,
gathered from our correspondence, wa shall
close our gossip. A late reception toilet of the
Empress consisted of a dress of gray satin,
trimmed with white lace point. A circlet of vel
vet, embroidered with diamonds, formed a neck
lace. The hair, arrayed in a profusion of curls
at the back, and raised in front, was ornamented
with a black velvet ribbon drawn through it and
fastened with a boquet of diamonds. The latter
and sometimes pearls are much worn upon black
velvet for necklaces or coiffures, For home toil
ets jackets are in favor'. A very simple and
tasteful manner of trimming a skirt is to dispose
at the bottom of each breadth a tan cluster or
ladder of loops of ribbon. The top of this clus
ter, which is smaller than the bottom, com
mences with a ribbon placed straight across it,
and upon this ribbon two buttons are sewn. The
bodice is trimmed to correspond. Similar loops
ornament the front, serve for epaulettes, and re
place the baeque at the back. The color of the
ribbon loops should contrast with that of the
dress. Dresses are either not trimmed at all, or
they are loaded with ornaments. Gimp, far from
being out of fashion, is so increasing in favor
that the manufacturers find it diffisult to supply
the demand for new designs. The last design is
called Incroyable, and is made with a heavy drop
fringe. All dresses are finished at the hem by a
thick girdle cord. It is firmly sown on the edge
of thOdress, as was the braid formerly used, and
makes a very pretty finish, especially as it is
yieually of a color contrasting with the material,
’t’Jolored paletots for full dress toilets replace
black ones ; they must harmonize, however, with
the dress.
Bonnets for Spring are smaller than those worn
at present. What are called the accessories of a
bonnet are now thought indispensable by those
who are remarked for the elegance of their toil
ets. Thus, the bonnet is fastened to the head
behind by gold or enamel arrows, daggers or
pins, with chains composed of large rings of jet
cr gold. Bonnets are also embroidered with
steel beads. A steel wreath is worked on the
edge, and steel fringe finishes the back.
Yours truly, C. H. C.
A Rich Breach of Promise Case in
London—Bich Developments and Bich Be
bvlts—Cupid and Mars at War Again.—This
case was heard in the Court of Queen’s Bench,
London, England, and was brought by a young
lady of Worcester, the daughter of a surgeon,
against a gentleman in the army, for a breach of
promise. It appeared that the families were ae
quainted, that the gentleman, who was two or
three years older than the lady, was about thirty
years of age. He came home from India in the
spring of 1863, and of course visited the family
of the young lady, and an intimacy arose be
tween them, which resulted in a mutual engage
ment for marriage. For some months they vis
ited or corresponded ; and Mr. Coleridge, the
learned counsel, opening the case, read extracts
from some of the letters as follows : “My dear
Emily—What pleasure it gives ms to be able to
address you thus, and how happy I feel sinceour
mutual declaration yesterday. I have not asked
your father’s leave to correspond with me, but
I have no doubt he will have no objection to it,
as I shall be absent some time, and how delight
ed I shall be to receive a letter from you. I need
not tell you I shall never forget yesterday, and
what made it doubly pleasant was that every one
eeemed so happy.” The next letter commenced
“My dearest Emily.” The learned counsel di
rected the jury’s attention to the fact that, as
was natural, he got warmer in his attachment to
her, and it went on to say, “ I-arrived here last
evening. I was delighted to find a letter from
ycu and you may bo sure I lost no time in read
ing it.” And after some further observations he
went on io say, “ Don’t believe that you are out
of mind as well as out of sight, for your image
is before me daily,” and he concluded with
“ Your fond and loving William ” There were
several letters to the same effect during the
inpnth of May, and when he was in Ireland, dar
ing the month of June, he wrote her almost
every two or three days and in one of them he
said, “Idreamed about you. a few nights ago.
I thought we were traveling together, but I have
not a clear idea where. On, Emily, lam always
thinking of you, and soon, dear Emily, I hope
the reality will come.” On the 4th of June ho
wrote, “It is only a short time longer, Emily
before I shall see you again. Howhappy I shall
be.” In a subsequent letter he wrote. “ I see
my sister-in-law in the boat with me, and then I
cannot help thinking that a dearer one •than a
sister-in-law will shortly be my companion.” He
was then at the Lakes of Killarney, and it was
not to be expected that the beautiful scenery of
that district would at all damp the youthful ar
dor with which he was addressing his lady love.
And here is a thing which is not bad in its way.
It was not written to be seen by any ope but the
plaintiff, and of course I read it under protest.
Speaking of her photograph he says, “My only
hope is that the photographer may succeed in
doing you as much justice as he did me. I as
sure you I have not seen you at the bottom of
the lake, and what is more, 1 have no intention
of doing eo. I wish your real dear face had
been here. If it has been, I have no doubt we
should have caught some salmon last week, for
far from frightening them it would have been
more likely they would have come up from their
beds to see your fair countenance. Shall I put
your carte on the hook, and see if they will come
up and make your acquaintance?” This letter
continued in that strain, and on the 9th of Au
gust he wrote to her saying, “ Don’t think, Em
ily, dear, you have been out of my mind as wel
as sight; your image is ever before me, and I
feel eo happy after my return, and I look forward
to uninterrupted happiness with yon.” He also
says, “I am anxious for your next letter.
What a lot we have to talk about, dearest,
and what a pleasant time I have to look forward
toand it is concluded, “Believe me, your ever
affectionate William.” In August, however, the
aspect of matters appeared to have altered, not
at all by reason of any diminution in his esteem
for her, but through a doubt on his part whether
he had not too hastily engaged himself, and whe
ther he had for her the amount of affection which
would render prudent their permanent union;
and in September he wrote her a long letter,
couched in terms of delicacy and regard, but
conveying this to her mind very distinctly. “ The
fact is,” he wrote, “ when I came home I was so
excited by my long absence, and so pleased with
the reception I met with, that I hardly knew
what I was doing. I feel that I have acted most
foolishly and wrongly, and am very much to
blame for allowing matters to go on so long with
out explaining, as I now do, &c.” Unfortunately,
in the envelope containing the letter there was
enclosed a quantity of religious matter—texts of
scripture, and hymns, which, it was suggested
by the counsel for the defendant, were not writ
ten by him, but by his mother, but which were
certainly sent by him. It appeared that the
young lady had suffered in her health in conse
quence of the disappointment and the violence
done to her feelings. The gentleman, it ap
peared, had transferred his affections to some
one else, and when this action was brought de
nied the promise of marriage. Mr. Coleridge, in
the course of hie opening speech, observed that
he was almost ashamed to read any passages
from the letters of a lover; but perhaps some,
amid the mote severe avocations of life, might
recall the “ s#eet, wise madness” in which they
had once indulged—(laughter)—and certainly
the defendant’s letters were those of a man ein
•cerely in love. and_ did equal credit to himself
and to the lady. But he thought the breach of
the promise utterly unprovoked, and the at
tempt to cover it by a mask of religious feeling
was most unworthy. The only question was
what he should pay; as to which, he said, he/
should show that he had £IB,OOO or £20,000, be
sides expectations. Evidence was given to show
the terms on which the parties had visited, Ao.,
and also the circumstances of the defendant. A
sister of the plaintiff having proved the terms
upon which the parties had been, in order to
prove the promise of marriage, the Lord Chief
justice observed that it was a pity there had
been any denial of it. Mr. Serjeant Ballantine,
for the defense, said at the time the denial was
pleaded the defendant’s legal advisers had not
seen the letters which had passed. A clergyman,
» brother of the plaintiff, proved that after the
letter breaking off the marriage she was very ill.
A correspondence was put in, and evidence was
given that the defendant’s property amounted to
about £13.000. Mr. Serjeant Ballantine, in ad
dressing the jury for the defendant, took up very
much the same line of defense as his client had
taken in his letter breaking off the match, urging
in his excuse that he had just come home from
India, and was led away by his feelings ; that he
ielt he had been too hasty, and that it was bettor
that he and the young lady should not marry
than that they should run the risk of the disas
trous consequences which in another court some
times were disclosed as the results of ill-consid
ered unions. The Lord Chief Justice, in sum
ming up the case to the jury, commented upon
this observation as rather an aggravation, imply
ing that, if the defendant had married the lady,
he would have behaved so badly as to drive her
into the Divorce Court. His lordship likewise
alluded to the unfortunate introduction of the
religious matter into the letter breaking off the
match; and even acquitting the defendant of a
knowledge of it, it was, to say the least, exceed
ingly uniortunate, and did not tend to improve
the character of the case. The jury, after a lit
tle consideration, gave a verdict for the plaintiff'
—damages, £2,000.
Sale of a Wife and-Three Childsen.
—A few weeks ago it was stated that a man named
Samuil Jones, residing at. Wolverhampton, Eng.,
had sold bis wife and three blooming children to
an American adventurer, for the moderate sum
of £l5O. The wife left her lawful husband, and
with the three children went to live with her
American admirer. It would anpear, however,
that a few days ago she repented' of her bargain,
and leturned to the protection of Mr. Samuel
Jones. Upon findinghimself deserted, the Amer
ican communicated with the husband, and in
formed him that if he could persuade his wife to
return to him he would give the husband an ad
ditional fifty pounds. The husband accordingly
tried all his powers of pursuasion to get the wife
tojleave him, and finding her quite wiling, com
municated with the American, who was in Lon
don. He went down to Wolverhampton, saw the
husband and wife, and it was arranged that the
American, with the wife and three children,
should leave Wolverhampton for London. The
Yankee, to make sure of his prize, arranged with
hr. Jone ' bat he should see them to the station,
and upon the signal being given for the train to
start he would hand him a £SO Bank of England
note. The husband accordingly saw the Ameri
can, his wife, and three children safe in the train,
and upon it leaving the platform received a Bank
of England note from his Yankee friend. The
train had hardly left the station, when upon look
ing at the note he found that it- was a £5 note.
He at once sent the following telegraphic mes
sage to the police in this town“ Tall thin man
run away with my wife and three children, two
boxes, two band-boxes, and a carpet-bag. He is
an American, with a belt round him, with a bowie
knife in the belt, and a revolver. They are going
to London, but husband will be at Birmingham
by the next train booked from Wolverhampton
to New street station. To be detained.” Upon
detective Inspector Tandy receiving the telegram,
he directed detective Sergeants Spokes and Jenna
to meet thu train from Wolverhampton. These
two officers accordingly went to the station, and
upon making inquiries of the railway officials,
found the husband in the cloak room ,he having
arrived from Wolverhampton by the express
which reaches Birmingham, about ten minutes
after the ordinary train. The officers made fur
ther inquiries, and found that the American had
arrived. They then went to the Dudley street
side of the station, where the husband saw the
American, with his wife and children and the lug
gage, he being in the act of putting the latter
into a cab. The husband, going up* to the
Yankee, said, “ Weil, John, how are you getting
on ?” to which he replied, “ All right, I guess.”
Upon this the busband informed himthat he had
given him at Wolverhampton station a £5 note
instead of a £SO note, and he wanted the latter
sum. Said the American, “ Well, I guess it was
a mistake,” and taking a bundle of notes from
his pocket, handed Mr. Jones a £SO Bank of Eng
land note, which was passed to the detectives,
who found it to be quite genuine. The husband
then shook hands with his wife, and kissing his
children wished them “good bye,” and—with a
friend who was with him—went to the nearest
liquor vaults, where he “liquored” with his friend.
The last that was seen of the American was that
he, with the purchased wife and throe children,
were “making tracks” for the London train,
where, we believe, they safely arrived Birming-
ham Gazette.
A Real Romance of the Harem—A
Young Belgian Girl Infatuated Bare as are
conversions from Museulmaniem to Christianity,
or horn the latter to Islam, yet fewer still are
the instances in which the proselytes’ to either
faith are women. One of these very exceptional
cases has, however, occurred during the past
week, in which the neophyte is a young Belgian
girl, named Cordelier the niece of the proprie-
tnss of a well-known English shop in Pera—
who, despite all the popular errors as to the
status of women in the Prophet’s paradise, has
risked everything, and gone boldly over to the
faith of Mecca, for love of a seductive young
Bey. For some months past she had been in the
habit of going frequently to harems in Slamboul
to take and execute m’lhnery orders, and in the
course of these business visits appears to have
made the acquaintance of the young effendi in
question. The entente was, we believe, entirely
unknown to her aunt, who, on her sudden disap
pearance on Sunday week, remained for several
hours in anxious ignorance of her whereabouts.
Late in the evening, however, a note from the
fair runaway put an end to her relative’s sus
pense by announcing the step she had taken, and
firmly stating her determination to embrace her
lover s faith in spite of every opposition. A per
sonal interview on the following day—at "the
Turkish house near the At bazar, where she had
taken sanctuary—failed to shake this resolution,
and accordingly on Tuesday she went before the
cadi, and made the first of the necessary decla
rations which precede formal admission into the
pale of Islam. The Belgium Legation then in
terfered, and later in the week the young convert
—who is about 19 years of age, and possesses
the buxom personal attractions which are dear
to the eyes of Eastern connoisseurs—was brought
before the Minister of Foreign Affairs, in compa
ny with her national dragoman. Here, again,
she declared her resolute purpose to abjure Chris
tianity, in spite of all that either A’ali Pasha or
the dragoman could do to urge reflection before
finally committing herself to so grave a step. In
view of this obstinacy, the Belgian authorities
now deny her right to make the change, on the
ground of non-age; and the Porte temporarily
acceding to the objection, her final reception
into Mussulmanism is suspended until the re
ceipt from Brussels of specific proof of her ago.
The affair has been the nine days’ talk of Pera
gossips, to most of whom the fair but foolish
apostate was, by face at least, welt known.—Le
vant Herald.
A Sad Case of Seduction and Child
Desertion—A Tale of the War A sad and
lamentable case of seduction and crime has come
to our knowledge, the particulars of which are
these: Some two of* three years eince a man
named Mills, residing in Lynn, entered the army
as a volunteer, and proceeded to the seat of war,
leaving a wife and one child in that city. For
some time he corresponded with his wife regu
larly at short intervals; but a short time after
one of the battles in Virginia, in which his regi
ment was engaged, he was reported among the
killed. His wife waited and waited, but no ti
dings came from him, and she was finally forced
to believe herself a widow. In a few months she
was persuaded to receive the addresses of a man
in Lynn, who professed his desire to make her
the partner of his joys and sorrows, and an inti
macy sprang up, until the ruin of the poor wo
man was accomplished. Still her seducer prom
ised marriage, but made various excuses for de
lay. Finally the entreaties of the woman seemed
to have the desired effect, and the marriage day
was fixed, when suddenly the husband of the
woman appeared at home, having been taken
prisoner instead of being killed, and had just
been released on parole. On learning the state
of affairs that existed, he at once refused to have
anything more to do with her, and of course
marriage with her betrayer was impossible.
About three Jr.-four weeks ago the wretched and
forsaken woman gave birth to a child, and went
to St. Louis with the child and returned to Lynn
without it. When questioned with regard to
what she had done with the infant, she gave no
satisfactory answer, and suspicion was raised
that she had made way with it in some manner.
The police of Lynn went to St. Louis, and con
ferred with Captain Morrill, of the Third Police,
and officer Engley was detailed to look the mat
ter up, and he succeeded in learning that a child
was found on the steps of house No. 91 Pluckney
street-, and taken by the occupants to the Tem
porary Home in Charles street, where it died,
which proved to bo the child of the woman in
question. She has been arrested, and is now in
Exposing his Person—A Righteous
Judgment. —For some time past complaints have
been made by the scholars to their parents, and
by the parents to one of the School Commission
ers, that some one or more persons were in the
habit of exposing bis or their persons to the
scholars of the Stoddard school, on Loffingwell
avenue, Chicago. The disreputable practice had
become so frequent adjacent to the playgrounds
set apart for the young ladies and misses, that
during the recreaiion hours these grounds were
almost entirely deserted by the elder portion of
the young ladies, who were driven from their
accustomed walks during the interim of the study
hours, by this beastly exposure of person. The
evil pi notice had become so open and frequent,
that the Commissioners employed John W. Cun
diff, a private policeman, to ferrit out these ras
cals and bring them to punishment. He com
menced his labors, and had not been on the
watch long before he saw a man approaching the
enclosure, who was recognized as being one of
the men frequently seen around the school.
Placing himeeif in the second story of tire school
building he did not wait long until the man gross
ly exposed his person through the enclosure to
the playgrounds, and before he proceeded to ar
rest him, had been in that position at least fifteen
minutes. He was taken to the police station,
and gave his name as John Hogan, but afterward
gave his name as Jones. He was taken before
the Becorder the next day, and had shame
enough left to waive an examination and plead
guilty to the charge of exposing his person to
the female inhabitants of the Stoddard school.
The Becorder questioned Mr. Cundiff and others
as to the offence, and after a few remarks from
the prosecuting attorney upon the enormity and
immorality of the offence, fined the man Hogan
or Jones to the extent of the law—sloo. There
has been recently several parties before the Be
ccrder charged with similar offences, and it is
hoped the severe penalty inflicted in this in
stance will deter others from violating not only
the law but common morality and decency.
Aggravated Arsault on a Young
Woman.—Thomas Nile, otherwise George Wil
son, living in Spencer Terrace, Lower Boad, Is
lington, London, Eng., described as a litho
grapher, was charged with an assault. A re-
SBU&ay MiUom Mar. 53
spectable-looking young woman, of 17, named!
Margaret Gammon, said she resided with her .
parents in Hoxton. About nine o’clock in thu
tvening she was passing along Milk street on
I her way home from Old Fish street, where she
i employed, when the prisoner, an entire
I stranger to her, put his arm round her n ek and'
I attempted to kiss her. She ran away and com
. plained to a policeman whom she met, upon
| which the prisoner called “ Stop thief 1” and then,
I came to her and the constable. She was ac
companied by a youg woman named Griffin, wha
worked for the same firm as she herself. The
prisoner, on overtaking her, accused her first of
robbing him of a purse'of 75., and then of a purse
of 16s. She and the girl Griffin went with him
and the constable to tne Bow Laue police station,
and there the prisoner charged her with stealing
his purse and two sovereign's. The complainant
was searched, and sixpence was found upon her.,
She solemnly denied the charge. The prisoner’
was drunk”at the time. She had never seen or
spoken to him before he put his arm round her
neck. The Inspector refused to entertain the
charge of her robbing him, believing it to bo
wholly groundless, and she then gave the pris
oner in charge for the assault. He thereupon
first gave the name of Thomas Nile, and then
George Wilson. The statement of the complain
ant was confirmed by her female companion,
Griffin, by Police-constable Crisp, and by the In
spector at the Bow Lane police-station. The
Lord Mayor convicted the prisoner of the as
sault ; and, holding it to have been greatly ag
gravated by his having charged a respectabki
young woman like the cemplainant with having
robbed him, he fined him £5 with the alterna
tive of a month’s imprisonment. The defendant
paid the money.
A Rather Curious Affiliation Cask
—He “ Denies the Soft Impeachment.”—Tohn
Hickie, an English porter, was summoned by a
young woman named Louisa Green to show l
cause why he should not be adjudicated the
father of her illegitimate child. Mr. Thomast
Beard appeared for the defendant. From the
evidence of Louisa Green it appeared that sha
was twenty-five years of age, and had known tho
defendant for the last nine years. He seduced!
her when she was fifteen years of age, and had
constantly met with her until the time when she
was confined. He had, since her confinement,
sent her money and groceries. In cross-exami
nation the complainant said that on several oc
casions she had Been made drunk by the mother
of the defendant, and that she had then slept in
the same bed with the defendant and his mother.
On being closely pressed, the complainant ad
mitted site had been seduced at a very early age,
and that for the last twelve months her mode of
getting her living had been precarious. During
the cross-examination she equivocated very
much, and wished to decline answering certain
questions, but on being pressed, her answers
were given in a most unsatisfactory manner,
Charlotte Slate was called, who said that she had
heard the defendant acknowledge the paternity
of the child, in the presence of the wife of a,
licensed victualler. She was also present when
he had brought tea and groceries to the com-
Bnt, the day after her confinement. Mr,
commented in strong terms on the way
in which the complainant had given her evi
dence, and the manner in which she had contra
dicted herself. He described her as a loose
woman, and denied that his client had had any
thing to say to her for some two or three years,
Mr. Aiderman Lusk decided on dismissing the
summons, but said that another summons would!
bo granted if the complainant could get the
licceneed victualler’s wife as corroborative evi
A Horse Whiffing, and Why it was
Administered—A clerk in a drug store on Main
street, it seems, though a married man, says the
Galesburg (HI.) Free Press, became enamored of
a frail beauty, and yielded himself a captive to
his illicit passion. If Madam Bumor may be
credited, their unlawful loves have been of a
year’s duration, or even longer. There is, how
ever, more substantial evidence on this point
than the guesses and surmises of gossips. It
seems that some time recently, the fair one pre
sented her paramour with a ten pound pledge of
their affection—in other words a plump, dimpled,
rosy, laughing boy or girl, which, the deoonent
eaith not. Precisely how bld the little waif may
be, or where it at present may be seen, a curious
public need not ask, for we are in the dark on
both subjects. Two rumors are current, either
of which may account for what has just occurred.
One is, that the father did not pay up satisfacto
rily of late for the support of the mother and her
child; the other is, that the father has obtained
possession of the child, and will not tell the mo
ther where she can find it. Brooding over ona
or the other of these wrongs, and possibly others
also, her love turned into hatred. She" worked
herself into a passion —not a frensy—but a cool,
resolute passion. Forgetting the gentle dalli
ances of other days, and seemingly losing confi
dence in their power over her friend, she resolved
to quicken his waning love by a more vigorous
process. Procuring a good horse whip at a liv
ery stable, she entered his store and belabored:
him severely over his shoulders, head, and face.
A relative of the whipped man being present,
undertook to disarm her, whereupon she turned
upon him and gave him a thorough lashing-
She was finally ejected from ths premises, and
went her way m wrath. Whether the whipping
rekindled the old love; whether it has inoreitsed
remittances, or caused the baby to be produesd,
we are unable to say.
Romance of the Divorce Court.—
The particulars of an extraordinary case, says
ihe Belfast News Letter, in connection with the
Divorce Court, have reached us, which, although
reading like a romance, are nevertheless strictly
true. For obvious reasons we shall not mention
names. The facts are, however, as follows: Not
long after the late Sir Cresswell Grossweil was in
stalled as Judge Ordinary, an officer of Hey Ma
jesty’s service, whom wo shall designate ae Mr.
A., presented a petition for a divorce from his
wife, on the usual grounds. The faux pas of the
lady (an Irish woman, we should mention) ooca- ’
sioned much pain and surprise to her friends, as
her conduct previous to the unfortunate denoue
ment had been unexceptionable as a wife and
mother. The correspondent in the case, also an
officer in the army, whom we shall call Mr. 8.,
made the lady all the reparation in his power
and married her. She was subsequently received
in society in India, where her antecedents were
not too critically examined, but in three years
afterward Mr. B. and she was left a widow.
Having now no tie in India she returned to Eng
land, whither she had been preceded by Mr. A.
and his three little children Having taken up
her residence in a fashionable town in a midland
county, celebrated for the curative property of
its waters, Mrs. B. soon obtained admission to
good society as the widow of a British officer,
and a very beautiful and attractive woman ta
boot. Here, after an interval of nearly two years,,
she again encountered Mr. A., and ths result is
ihat they have again married. The children of
Mr. A. have not recognized their mother, and all
they know is that “ Papa married a widow.”
Beat this in a sensation novel, if you can. The
circumstances of this extraordinary case are re
lated with critical accuracy; and were I to,
give the real initials of the parties, they couldi
be easily identified. They afford the only illus
tration on record of the ruling passion strong in
A Strange Marriage Case in Dublin,
Ireland.—Our readers may recollect that great
interest was excited about a year ago, by the
marriage, under very mysterious circumstances,
of Hiss Quinton, a young Protestant heiress,,
most respectably connected, to a man named Pe
terson, the son of an innkeeper, at Enniskillen,
and a Boman Catholic. They were married in a
dark lobby of Peterson’s house, by some Ecmant
Catholic clergyman, who was as intangible aa
Pepper’s Ghost; and the young lady was imme
diately afterward baptized by the parish priest,,
against whom a prosecution was instituted for
having celebrated the marriage, but the evi
dence was not strong enough to convince ths
jury of his guilt. Miss Quinton was under age,,
and her guardian took immediate steps to have
her made a ward of Chancery, and applied for air
injunction to separate her from her bridegroom.
They were accordingly separated. She was:
placed in charge of some relatives in Dublin, and
lie went to Liverpool, where he is at present em
ployed in a solicitor’s office. The flight of time,
m bringing round her twenty-first birtnday, has
released Miss Quinton from her legal thraldom,
and in the Bolls Court, a few weeks since, she
applied by counsel to be discharged from ths
wardship, and permitted to marry Mr. Peterson,
who bad, by letter, expressed a desire that her
property should be settled upon herself. It was
originally £BOO in the funds, but the various
legal expenses have reduced it nearly one-half.
Her uncle yielded a reluctant consent, and ths
Master of the Bolls observed that as a marriage
de facto, though not de jure, had taken place, tha
lady’s moral character could not be impeached,
and directed a settlement to be drawn up, giving
her the legal control of her fortune, with the re
mainder to her children, but with power to be
queath it to her husband should she die without
Elopement and Robbery by a Woman
and her Nephew Major Couzins, says the St.
Louis Daily Press, received information yester
day .of the elopement of a woman with her
nephew, leaving two bright children and a fond
hueband in the greatest distress and shame at
the conduct of the unnatural and adulterous
mother and wife. It appears that the family, in
cluding the nephew, arrived in this city about
two weeks ago from England, and both the mala
members being mechanics (engineers) had no
difficulty in procuring work. The husband had!,
no suspicion of any intimacy existing between
the partner of his bosom and the youthful
nephew, and was rejoiced that they had so soon
succeeded in procuring employment which would
enable them to jain a respectable and honorable
livelihood. They had escaped from the Old
World, where long hours of hard toil per day was
barely sufficient to keep soul and body together,
to a land of plenty, where the remuneration for
labor was large enough to warrant them living in
good style. Judge ot his astonishment and grief,
on the second day after he had accepted employ
ment, upon returning home to find his wife and
nephew noth gone. Not satisfied with commit
ting the crime of elopement and the desertion of
family and friends, they added robbery to their un
holy guilt, bv carrying off all the choice clothing,
money and choice tools which the husband and
uncle had brought to this country with him. Tha
woman is tall, with grayish eyes, dark complex
ion, and has a mole under the chin. The man is
five feet eight inches high, light complexion and
wears no whiskers. They both speak the broad
Lancashire dialect, and their names are William
Simson and Jane Dawson. The direction they
went is not known. Pass them around.

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