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New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899, November 03, 1872, Image 1

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85026214/1872-11-03/ed-1/seq-1/

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W? Ini I Ir 11
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At No. 11 Frankfort street.
F<3~ A SECOND EDITION, containing the latest new!
from all quarters, published on SUNDAY MORNING.
X®“ Tne NEW YORK DISPATCH is sold by all New!
Agents in the city and suburbs at TEN CENTS PEE
COPY. All Mail Subscriptions must be paid in advance.
Canada Subscribers must send 25 cents extra, to prepaj
American postage.
Hereafter, the terms of {Advertising in the Dispatci
Will be as follows:
WALKS ABOUT TOWN 30 cents per line.
Under the heading of “Walks About Town” anc
“‘Business World” the same price will be charged foi
each insertion. For Regular Advertisements and “ Spe
cial Notices,” two-thirds of the above prices will be
charged for the second insertion. Regular advertise
ments will be taken by the quarter at the rate of one dol
lar a line. Special Notices by the quarter will be chargee
at the rate of one dollar ana twenby-five cents per line.
M Aiuts and fancy display will be charged extra.
The Result of a Short-Sighted
I Policy.
Many Exhibitors Disgusted at
the Petty Annoyances.
An Exhibit of the Receipts and
Rival Fairs in Adjoining Cities,
The criticism of the administration of the Ameri
can Institute Fair in last week’s Dispatch, has callee
forth a great deal of commendation from representa
tives of the very large number of members of the
k Institute who are opposed to the continuance ii
■newer of the Ring who are responsible for the par
Ktial failure of the Exposition of the present year. ?
■number of letters have been received from exhibitor!
■and members, complaining of the lack of courtesy
shown by the managers and their assistants toward
the exhibitors, and many assorted that unless a dif
ferent spirit was manifested in the future, nothing
but disaster would ensue.
The principal complaint seems to be against th(
Board of Managers and their assistants within the
Fair building. It seems to bo universally conceded
that the best fairs ever given by the Institute were
those held in the armory of the Twenty-second Reg!
. ment, in West Fourteenth street, in 1860 and 1867.
This was a good central location, easy of access, noi
only by those living in the city, but in the suburbs.
And be it remarked in passing, that very many of the
exhibitors and a large proportion of the visitors camt
from Brooklyn, Jersey City, and Newark. Not one
■'p. ten of these people will visit the Fair in its pres
|Pfmt location. During those years gold, silver, anc
bronze medals were given those exhibitors who re
.ceived premiums. The space at the disposal of th(
Managers was not so great as lu the Jtink, and ye
the show of articles of all kinds was incomparably
uner. And it is alleged that this is owing in gooc
part to the lack of civility shown some exhibitors anc
the partiality exhibited toward others, more especial
y if the latter were relatives or intimate friends o
tho Managers or any of the members of the Fat
Committees. Those who have attended the presen
Fair will have observed that the space allotted t(
exhibitors is pretty well filled, but have they notec
fwhatan amount of insignificant and trashy article!
?o to make up a good part of the whole, and givei
the Fair more the appearance of a
Of American science and art. Is there a really no
iiceable article in the entire collection? it would
seem to be one huge advertisement of small articles
whose owners aro constantly hawking them for sal<
with the persistence of a Chatham street clothei
One of the finest collections of dahlias wo ever sav
yas at one of the last exhibitions given by the Amer
.can Institute at the old Crystal Palace, and the dis
play of fruits'and flowers was then often equal tc
those of the Slate Agricultural Fair. Of late years,
these have been steadily falling off, until this yeai
ths display is confined exclusively to those offered at
[an advertisement of the productiveness of the lands
Etilong the. line of certain sections of the Kansas Pacific
■and Northern Pacific Railroads. This alone would
■lndicate a falling off in interest of those living nearei
I home, who should take an interest in exhibiting
their products of the soil, and probably would do sc
if the proper attention were shown them. It would
Beam that we might do butter than to look beyond
the Mississippi for agricultural and pomologioal pro
ducts wherewith to trick out an exposition in this
K However true or false the assertion or belief, it is
ertain that very many of the exhibitors in past
h -/ears are extremely dissatisfied with the verdicte
I ‘endered by the various committees, and on which
■premiums of various grades were declared. For in
■ tance, for several years the exhibition of soap was
■ onfined almost entirely to one firm, because its ri
vals felt that it would bo almost useless to compete;
■not because their wares were not equal, if not su-
Pperior, to those of the lucky exhibitor, but because
■|hey felt it would be of no use to contend against the
■ dds of a partial committee. Moreover, they de-
Fclared that a premium awarded by the American In
■titute was of so little value that they could do ae
well without it. Of course it will be said that these
are merely the spleen of disappointed ex
hibitors, who are chagrined because their inferior
■ rtides did not receive the medals awarded to more
■ uperior. Nevertheless, the fact remains that in the
pen market these rejected wares command full as
a sale among the trade, and among house
eepers, as the moro favored kind.
Cases of this kind might bo multiplied, but the
bove is a fair specimen.
Not until 1870 were exhibitors charged an entry
ee. Since then an entry fee of five dollars has been
iemanded from each exhibitor. Of course the
"'ount of space awarded to each is limited, and
iv«t be left to the discretion of the various commit
ees in charge. Still, it does seem that they might
•erfotrm their duties without incurring the enmity
t «o large a proportion of the exhibitors, it is a
ystem of petty annoyances that disgust and drive
way exhibitors more effectually than would an
ctual/Inconvenience, provided a disposition were
hownby those in charge to remedy the latter so
oon as practicable.
There are those who decidedly object to the flnan
lal management of the concern, and say that, how
ever much the receipts may exceed those of former
years, the expenses are brought up in proportion, so
that the net proceeds are but little more than when
the receipts were not one half whai they are now.
To this the is made that the expenses have
been in a very considerable degree ineurred for last
ing improvement, such as extending and otherwise
rnlarging the Kink to accommodate the increased
flemand for epazse, putting in shafting in the ma
nbinery department, and otherwise adding to the
value of the property.
The following are Uje receipt, and expenditures
tor a paries of years, so that the reader may Judge
Whether or not the Board of Managers have .well
performed the trust reppsed in them: In 186? the
Fair wee hold in the Twenty-second Regiment Arm
ory. The receipts were SU.lgg 42, and the expend
l ures |20 £ 215, leaving $23,072 A? profits.
In consequence -at a failure to come to terma with
the committee appointed by the Boards! Officers of
*e Twenty-seoopd Regiment,
In 1669 the first Fair was held in the Bini. In
rat year the receipts were 661,166, and th. expend
»ee {46,046, leaving « balance on the profit aide ol
1870 the receipts were $13,609, and the expenses
!?1.03J23, leayipa w n
[above items of expenses $1,230 were expended for
• medals and diplomas. The entry fees, for the first
time demanded, brought to the treasury $5,765.
la 1871 there were received from all sources $85,-
253, and of this sum $5,265 was for entree fees, and
$7,485 40 for licenses to sell within the building.
The expenses were $69,529, leaving a profit of $15,-
VB 724. It will be seen that more money was cleared
vs vrhen the receipts were the lowest than in any of the
series we have given, and that with one exception
the profits were the lowest when the receipts were
the highest. The members of the Institute will look
-H with interest for the forthcoming report of the Board
of Managers as to the receipts and expenditures of
the present Fair.
1( i of the short-sighted policy of those in charge has
° r been that rival fairs or expositions have been held
be in Brooklyn and Newark, and, although not so large
as our own, they are worthy to rank as rivals, and
id undoubtedly have tended to injure that held at the
8 ‘ Rink. So well satisfied are the managers of those
rival expositions with the success of their efforts
that they have decided to hold them hereafter each
i year, so that this source of revenue is permanently
.? withdrawn.
It remains with the members of the American In
(j stitute to say how long this state of affairs shall con
tinue, and when this short-sighted policy of their
managers shall be brought to an end.
a “ Charles Marie Roussoau, a native of Belgium, and
ie his three sons, Louis, aged twenty-two; Charles,
to aged twenty; and Adolph, a boy of sixteen, arrived
in the City of New York from Central America, where
A they bad spent a number of years,-in the month of
rs October, 1850. Mr. Rousseau’s business speculations
had evidently been tolerably successful, as he
’d brought him a considerable sum of money in
gold and silver coin and several bars of silver. On
3 8 their arrival the family took up their residence at a
boarding house at No. 5 Carlisle street, at which
place they remained for three weeks. While there
ie they made the acquaintance of one Henry Carnell, a
io Swiss by birth and watch case finisher by profession,
»d who arrived in the city from Europe on the first ol
ro November, only a few days after the Rousseaus,
[i- Being the only person in the house who could speak
7. French, the language usually used by them, an inti
ot macy was soon formed and a close friendship ensued,
g. About this time Mr. Rousseau, who was an old man
ie of sixty-six, bought out the good-will, fixtures, and
ie appurtenances of a French cafe in Dey street, for
ie which he paid in presence of Carnell the sum o’ one
s- hundred and sixty-four dollars. He then with his
id sons took up his abode in his own premises and at
o- once commenced business. The family, together
le with an old housekeeper whom they had brought
et wxtn tixsnj; occupied fovr rooms on tbe
ly and in one of these rooms was kept a large trunk
3d containing the gold and silver amassed by Mr. Rous
id seauin Central America. Carnell was present one
il- day when a carman arrived with the baggage from
of their previous lodgings, and observed Louis signing
tlr to the carman that he would go to this trunk for
nt money to pay him. He therefore knew where the
to treasure was, and the knowledge ultimately lured
3d him on to
Carnell frequently visited the cafe, and was seem
ingly at all times made welcome. He had been un
0_ successful in his endeavors to obtain employment if
ld he had ever made any, and the sight of the trunk in
s Rousseau’s room haunted him to an extent which he
was incapable of resisting. Several days prior to the
eg 14th of November, he- called at Dey street and left
his trunk, saying that be intended to go to Newark
w and would raturn in a couple of days, but he subse
r- quently took it away again. On the evening of Nov.
a _ 14th, Mr. Rousseau senior retired to bed at half-past
to 9 o’clock, and immediately afterward the cafe was
a closed, and the youug men also prepared to retire.
ar About 10 o’clock a heavy knock was beard at the
ag door, and the eldest son, Louis, proceeded to an
swer ft. He asked who was there, and received the
1c reply, It is I.” Louis remarked that it was too
I d late, but opening the door, admitted the person, who
Br proved to be Carnell.
so The young man afterward stated on oath, that
Id while admitting Carnell into the house on that
id memorable night, the thought flashed across his
o- mind, “what if he should stab us.” He remem
is bered Carnell showing him a singularly handled
poignard or knife but a few days before, and asking
him if he could shut it. The presence of Carnell on
1® the occasion of his paying the carman, the knowl
sfc edge that he was aware of the money being in the
ts house, and a strange pensiveness or eccentricity of
11 manner which characterized his proceedings, all
Q " served to impress him with an indefinable mys
-18 terious dread of evil to come. He complained of
‘i- being very much fatigued, and said he had jnst came
0 » from Newark where he had found work for Charles,
and that he had passed the place several times; but
se perceiving so many people, did not care about com.
18 ingin. This also occurred to Louis as being strange,
Carnell never previously having objected to enter-
Q - ing on the ground of their being too much company
18 present He
T and it was readily granted. Mr. Rousseau and his
youngest son Adolph slept together in one room, and
e Louis and Charles on that night together in another.
18 They spread a curious sort of mat used by the In
dians in Central America, between tho doors, and
furnishing Carnell with some bed-clothes he slept on
16 it. He did not undress, but merely divested him
self of his coat and boots. Charles told his father what
Carnell had said about having found work for him
Y in Newark, and suggsted that they go together the
n next day and see what it was. The lights were th en
•0 extinguished, and the whole party retired to bed.
a The strange presentiment on Louis’ mind returned,
i- and turning to his brother he said, What if Car
t nell would get up in the night and elab ua ?” Charles
y said it was nonsense to think of such a thing, and
8 the two brothers then went to Bleep. Louis after
-0 ward .olemnly asserted that hie presentiments did
,n noi take the form of a dream, but were actual and
' e real waking thoughts. About three o’clock in the
1° morning Charles woke up and found Carnell in the
act of
;- He seized bis assailant by the throat, but was una
’■ ble to hold him long. Carnell than stabbed Louis
r several times, and the noise aroused the old man
0 and young Adolph. When Carnell heard them stir
n ring, he shouted out, "What’s the matter? I’ll help
r. you,” pretending that he thought they were being
■e attacked by some one else. The old man then rush
-- ed at him, exclaiming, --Here he is,” but Carnell
e struck him a heavy blow on the neck, stunning him
d completely for the moment. Rossoau tried to pre
i- vent him from opening the door, and this time re
e coivod his death-blow from Henry Camel!—a ghastly
wound being inflicted on his throat with the poniard.
6 Crawling back through the lobby, he fell with his
1 head upon the knee of his eldest son and there
’ breathed his last.
Carnell immediately disappeared through |a back
window, and dropping into a peculiarly constructed
area or alley-way, in ifle rear of No. 147 Dey street,
he found himself a aelf-made prisoner. Louis open
i ed the front door and called for help, and his cries
t soon attracted the attention of the watchman,of the
Ocean Bank, who was passing st the time. The
1 watchman did not understand him at first, as he
- spoke French, but looking in the htsuse, and there
t perceiving the poor old murdered man dead on the
knees of hie son, that son himself presenting a bor-
> rible appearance, bls entrails protruding and his
i form covered with be soon xoaliyed ti,e iruo
r condition of affairs, and giving the alarm, brought
t to the spot Officers McCullough and Powell.
They at once conveyed the two wounded men,
- Louis and Charles, to the station-house, where it
1 was found that the former was stabbed dangerously
in the stomach, breast, neck and arms, and the lat-
- ter in the side and neck. Both lives were dis
-1 paired of, and the scene in the station-house, where
e the two young men lay, their younger brother weep
i ing over them, was
1 Early next morning, Mr. Andrews, an immediate
1 neighbor of the Rousseau’s, looking through his
* back window, perceived a man concealed in the alley
way. He immediately communicated with the police,
a body of whom at once ptOCSeded to arrest the roan.
s When taken, he was completely covered with blood
1 from head to foot, and the appearance he presented
3 was really horrible. The hand of Providence was
I evident in the strange manner in which he had en
-3 trapped himself. There was no possible way of get
-3 ting out of the area without assistance. There was a
a deep cut in his head as if from a fall, but
f not his own. He exhibited no signs of agitation on
being taken before the brothers, who at once identi-
- fied him, nor did he at any subsequent time betray
* symptoms of fear. There is no doubt that he had
r arisen during the night to carry out his plan of steal
ing the contents of the trunk, but hearing, or fancy
ing he heard some movement on the part of the broth,
era, he had determined to murder them rather than
be baulked of his object.
His trial was commenced on March 3, 1851, in the
Court of Oyer and Terminer—Chief Jusiice Edmunds
, presiding, assisted by Aidermen Franklin and Dele
meter. The prosecution was conducted by the Dis
trict Attorney and Mr. H. Morange; the defense by
Counselors Distin and H. L. Clinton. The only plea
set in was that of insanity, but it availed the prisoner
' not, as he was convicted and
on the second of May, 1852. He made a long, ram
’ bling statement in French, denying his guilt, and
a leading to the inference that it was the Rousseau’s
attacked him in order to get the situation in Newark
B for Charles instead of himself, but his story was
Q merely a tissue of falsehoods from beginning to end.
Application was made for a new trial, and a respite
a was obtained from the Governor. Tho grounds on
which the new trial was claimed were legal techni
a calities merely, and had no reference to his guilt or
a When the jury were consulting, one of them had
called the officer having them in charge, and said to
* him:
“Ask the court to send the jury the statute, or
some book, containing the law of manslaughter.”
The officer returned with the answer that “the
court said they had nothing to do with manslaugh
" ter.” This the Supreme Court deemed sufficient

cause for a new trial, and it was accordingly granted.
r The Judge, however, gave it as his opinion that the
case was one of deliberate and cold-blooded murder,
It was found impossible to proceed with the trial,
t however, the principal witnesses, Louis and Charles
r Rousseau, having recovered, and left for Central
t America, where, it was reported, one of them had
since died, and Carnell was retained in prison for a
ioua’yea.s i.nd serea Ai the tA-
piration of that period, ttre case of Ttig
Q Henry Carnell was called before tne Hon. gJudge E.
a P. Cowles, and the District Attorney, stating the in
g ability, in the absence of the brothers Rousseau, to
r prove other than the crime of manslaughter in the
Q third degree, the prisoner’s counsel consented to
j plead guilty, and the court accepted the plea. Car
nell was then sentenced to the severest punishment
in the limits of the court-—viz., four years’ imprison
ment in Mount Pleasant prison. Thus be escaped
with punishment altogether inadequate to the nature
L _ of his crime—one of the most brutal and horrible on
Q .
II During the lovely moonlight nights of early Sum
h mer, among the youthful promenaders in the beau-
* tiful streets and parks of Newark was a handsome
lfc youth, named Owen Manning, and a gushing and
8 pretty damsel, named Mary J. Campbell. Owen
’’ found the charms of Mary irresistible, and many a
6 midsummer night they passed m “Love’s young
dream.” But somehow, as the cool nights came on
B and the leaves fell from the elms, Mary found that
0 her dream had brought with it a broad day reality,
0 still unseen, but alive, that made it necessary for her
to cling closer to Owen for support. She found she
would soon become a mother. Her grief was in
creased tenfold when she found that he came no
t more to walk with her under the elms, but that his
8 love seemed to grow cold with the season. She made
* known her situation to the Overseer of the Poor, and
that official set to work to hunt up the truant Owen.
f He was found, and the two met in the office of Jus
a tice Dean. The kind-hearted Justice, who always
■ sympathizes with beauty in distress, thought it a
5 pity that this good-looking young couple should be
f separated. He looked tenderly at the girl, and then
1 sternly upon the young man, and stroking his shin-
■ ing black hair and smoothly shaven chin, talked to
1 him like a Dutch uncle. Owen was completely over
-3 come, and consented to make any amends in his
» power. The Justice then, for form’s sake, laid his
* hand upon Dixon’s Digest,” and repeated the mar
’ riage ceremony, to which the young people assent
» ed. Judge Dean then gave them some good advice,
' and they departed, to hunt up some little etceteras
f which will doubtless be needed soon.
t A few weeks ago, James Watkins Raymond & Co. 4
of New York, opened extensive sale and exchange
3 stables in Atlantic street, Newark. Watkins, who
1 was the principal representative of the concern, en
deavored to cultivate the acquaintance of the best
" horse fanciers in the city. He took board for him
-1 eelf and wife at the Continental Hotel, and so far
1 won the good opinion of Major Gillette, the amiable
proprietor, that that gentleman did not feel like
1 mentioning the trifling matter of a few weeks’ board,
1 as Watkins had represented that he and his partners
5 were large real estate owners in New York. Watkins
1 smoked twenty-five cent cigars, and “ talked horse”
* so effectually ae to win the confidence of horse own
’ ers, several of whom took their animals to the stables
of Watkins Raymond & Co., for sale. Among these
3 were Dr. Bowman, and Mr. Mullin, an undertaker,
of Washington street. Watkins sold their horses,
and, it is alleged, declined paying over the money
received for them. Ik is also charged that he and
1 his partners have “ siuck ” several other persons in
3 Newark, in the same way. Watkins was arrested
5 and locked up in the Second Precinct station-house.
j The man who was mean enough to steal pennies
( from a dead person’s eyes has been matched by two
fellows calling themselves George Thomas and Rob-
( ert Sullivan, and hailing from Centre street, New
, York. The oilier night they made a raid upon the
’ store of Mr. P. F. Mulligan, the down town newa
, dealer, No. 927 Broad street, by prying off the look
with a jimmy. They found something beside news
papersj,and magazines. They carried off gold pens
and Russia leather wallets to ihe value of S6OO. The
thieves were captured with their booty by Officer
Danneburger, and sent to jail. They pleaded guilty,
yesterday, and were both sentenced to six years in
Stale Prison.
Some erring sister having a fair and sinless child
of sin with which she knew not what to do, tried to
hide the evidence of her shame by wrapping the
baby in an old garment and turning it adrift upon
the world. As ik was a very young baby, not more
than a day nr two old, it made no progress in the
journey, but was picked up where it bad been left,
near No. 42 Pennington street, by Officer Kingleman,
who took it to the First Precinet station house. Ik
was placed under the care of Mrs. Weiss, a kind wo
mnn living near by.
recently appointed to preside at the Common Pleas
gud Quarter Setons, is disehargipg bis duty
smkss ’ anlr
- - \
»——aaaMamMya— i<i i»— whi i—wm
such a manner as to win the respect of the law
loving citizens of Newark. T - the poor devil who
steals something to satisfy absolute want, he is mild
and merciful; but the hardened offender gets what
the law intends him to have. Three days after the
Mulligan robbery was comml’i.i the robbers were
sentenced to six years hard in the State Prison.
New York thieves will probab prefer some other
field of operations hereafter. Yastcrday morning, a
poor wretch came before the udge to receive his
sentence for stea’ing a shirt, IPs Honor told him
they provided very good shfris~ in the County J-U,
and sent him there to get one. Another had been
convicted ef stealing milk. E- r ■ the Judge informed
that as the fluid was probabh ilf water, he would
give him a light sentence, but . ised him in future
to drink beer, and pay for i., rather than to steal
On Friday night, John Mc.Cermott, flagman at
Market street depot, where nearly fifty trains pass
each way, was arrested for drunkenness. It is
M Dermott’s business to waru people crossing the
track, of danger, and owing to Use immense number
who pass that locality hourly, it requires considera
ble vigilance in a sober flagman to prevent an acci
dent. The drunkenness oi McDermott shows in the
hands of what kind of men the lives and limbs of the
pubiic are placed. Only a day or two, a woman
named Catharine Woods, aged thirty-two years, left
home in the morning, to earn a little money by
washing. She left at home five little children, the
oldest of which was only nine years of age. Re
turning with seventy-five cents in her pocket, the
sum total of her morning’s work, she reached the
railroad track, and, seeing a train comin stepped
aside, only to be struck by another train approach
ing in an opposite direction. Botn logs were broken,
and she received fatal injuries. It has not been
charged that the flagman at that crossing was drunk,
but the presumption is that had necessary vigilance
been exercised, the accident would not have oc
A Refined Girl Poisons Her Whole
How the Mystery was Solved.
It was about noonday, on ' he 16tb of July last,
that a boy, fourteen or fifteen years of age, appeared
breathless and evidently a prey to intense terror and
agitation, at the Prefecture of Police in Helsingfors,
the capital of the Russian prevince of Finland. He
told the officers in the vestibr.le that bis name was
Michael Grendsen; that he was the errand-boy of
Dr. Barsky, a physician living on New street; that,
upon going as usual to the doctor’s house, between
11 and 12 o’clock, he had foi4id, to bis great surprise,
that all the doors were lockup. He had knocked a
long time at the front door, had received no re
sponse* Finally he had e'" .. an entrance into the
ho .uiflinq - v <***•* C7<muiDg ifii?
the kitchen. In the room adjoining to it
had met him. The old servant-girl and cook of the
family had lain on the floor dead, with a horrible
expression on her face, and her limbs frightfully
contorted. The boy, on revealing this taie of hor
ror, added that he had been so frightened for a time
that he had been unable to move, and then he had
jumped out of the window and ran to the police of
fice as fast as his legs would carry him.
He was at once taken into the office of the Super
intendent, who, a minute or two afterward, started
with the boy and three or four policemen for the
house of Dr. Barsky on New street. When they ar
rived there the doors of the building were still lock
ed. The loud, thundering raps of the Superintend
ent elicited no response.- Without losing any further
time, the whole party entered the window in the
same manner as young Michael Grendsen had done,
and after passing through the kitchen, they found in
the adjoining chamber the servant-girl, a woman ap
parently over fifty years of age,
The Superintendent tried to raise her up, but there
was in her body already that leaden weight of death
which lends to corpses so singular a weight. Two
policemen had to assist him in raising the dead
woman, than whose appearance nothing could be
more horrible. The boy Michael was so frightened
that he piteously begged them to let him go; but the
Superintendent sternly told him to remain.
'They next entered the hallway. It was as still in
the house as in the grave. The building had two
stories, and a low staircase led to the upper floor
where the doctor and his family had their apart
ments. The Superintendent asked the boy where
the bedrooms cf the family were. He pointed to the
doors of two bedrooms. Upon opening these doors,
the Superintendent found no one in the rooms. The
beds were untouched.
Turning then to the front room, he opened the
door, and, upon looking inside, he, the strong-nerved
custodian of the law, who had passed in his official
career undoubtedly through many terrible scenes,
It was the dining-room of the family. The meal was
still on the table; but the chairs around it were par
tially upset, and on the floor lay, in positions too
frightful almost to describe,
Two of them were full grown—a man in the attire of
the middle classes, about forty years of age; the
other was a matronly-looking lady, who held m her
arms an infant.
Two girls, between ten and twelve years of age,
were the others.
Overcoming bis emotion, the Superintendent beck
oned to the boy Michael to follow him into the room.
They boy came near fainting away when the dread
ful scene inside burst upon his eyes. He looked
around the room wildly, and, fixing his eyes upon
the corpse of the gentleman, he exclaimed, in pierc
ing tones:
The frightfully contorted remains which they saw
before them were those of Dr. Barsky, of his wife
(who, with the true instincts of a mother, bad clasped
her infant to her bosom, even in the agony of a
frightful death), and of their two young daughters,
who, but a few hours before, had been one of the
happiest families in Helsingfors.
After examining the corpses for a minute or two,
and then ordering two of his men to guard the room,
the Superintendent entered the adjoining room,
where another
awaited him. It was a small apartment—evidently
a lady’s boudoir. The furniture was elegant, every
thing in the room indicated the refinement and com
fort of wealth and education. In strange contrast
with this scene was
that was stretched out on the sofa. It was a young
lady, of slender figure, long blonde hair, and ele
gantly dressed. Although her face was very pale,
and her eyes almost bursting from their sockpts, it
could be seen that she was very handsome. Sbe
uttered constantly low moans, and everything in
appearance indicated that she was in great pain.
This was Ida, Dr. Barsky’s eldest daughter. Upon
feeling her pulse, and putting a few questions to
her, which elicited no response, the Superintendent,
still keeping the boy by his side, dispatched one of
his officers for the nearest doctor.
In fifteen minutes a doctor was on hand, who, af
ter examining the condition of the eldest daughter,
administered some powerful restoratives to her,
which were not long in bringing her back to con
sciousness. As soon as she was a little better she
started up, her every feature expressing the most
intense terror.
“What do you want of me ?” she exclaimed, wild
ly. “ Oh, kill me 1 kill me at once!”
She then tried to spring to her feet, but she was
unable to do so, and sank feebly back upon the sofa.
There was then a hurried consultation between the
dootoi end the Superintondent. et the oloee cf which
the latter dispatched messengers for the most emi-
• nent professors of the University of Helsingfors, and
for the criminal prosecutor and the examining ma
gistrates of the city.
While awaiting their arrival, the Superintendent
fllowjy.pacedthe room in which Dr. Barsky’s eldest
daughter was lying wxiu tu® bay .
ael, still a prey to intense terror, kept himself as
closely to the windows as possible, The young lady
seemed unconscious. She breathed heavily, and her
breast heaved convulsively. ]
faiid Sad cOifoiiifto this feabful
When the physicians and the criminal officials ar- (
rived on the spot, they proceeded at once to an in
vestigation. The doctors, after examining the
corpses, said they must all have been dead for twelve
hours or longer. No signs of violence were found on *
any of them. The contorted condition of their limbs
indicated, prima facie, that they had been poisoned,
and the fact that the meal which was on the table 5
before them had been but partially finished, seemed
to confirm this. t
Miss Ida was found not to be seriously ill, and the j
doctors told the magistrates that she was well enough £
to be questioned by them; but £
Even when carried into the adjoining room, the ]
terrible sight of her dead parents and sisters did not t
induce her to open her lips. She only exclaimed <
once or twice, wildly: ' f
“Kill me! Take me!” i
The chemical professor of the university was sent
for, with a notice that an autopsy was to be held
forthwith, and that he must prepare for an imme
diale analysis of the intestines cf several corpses. 1
An hour afterward, the post mortem examination took
place, and the chemical professor had no difficulty in <
finding in the stomachs of the corpses the easily dis
cernible .
The milk-soup, both in the plates and the large 1
bowl on the table, showed likewise large quantities
of arsenic. The whole family, then, had been poi- 1
soned. But by whom ?
ggThe authorities were unable to elicit any informa- '
tion from the only surviving member of the family. 1
Miss Ida opposed to the questions oi the magistrates
an unbroken silence. Even their threats did not •
open her lips. As time wore on, she had become 1
much calmer, and when she was told that she must 1
go to prison, she manifested no emotion whatever. 1
During the next few days everything was done to 1
fathom the mystery of the terrible crime that had 1
been committed, but no clue could be found. All
the druggists in the city swore that they had for
years past sold but very trifling quantities of ar
senic. Ida Barsky constantly maintained her moody
taciturnity. She touched but little food, and, when
the torture of a scant bread and water diet was ap
plied to her in order to make her speak, it made no
impression upon her.
The neighbors of the family said they had heard
no unusual noise during the night in which Dr.
Barsky and h!s family had been murdered. All con
curred in stating that all the members of the family ’
had apparently lived most happily together, and
that Jda, the eldest daughter, had been the favorite
child of her parents. i
remained unsolved for nearly a.month. At that time
a maiden aunt of the girl arrived in Helsingfors. It
was Mlle. Helena Dalgren, who lived at Abo, a sea- i
port in the extreme northern part of the Baltic i
coast. She had not heard until recently of the death
of her brother, Dr. Barsky, and had at once hastened
to Helsingfors upon receiving the dread tidings.
Strangely enough, she refused to see her young
niece in prison, and told the prosecuting attorney
that she was sure that the girl herself was the mur
deress of her family; and, in proof of this terrsble
assertion, she stated that, a year previously, Ida had
been at her house in Abo, with her father, the Doc
tor, for several months, and had there made the ac- ■’
quaintance of a young officer of the garrison, who
had fallen passionately in love with her, and whose '
afleotion she had reciprocated. Dr. Barsky had
sternly refused to consent to the match, he having
ascertained that the lover of his daughter was a man
of bad character. He had at once returned with her
to Helsingfors, and strictly forbade her to corres
pond with the young officer. Ida had promised to
do so, but had fondly exchanged numerous letters i
with her lover. The latter had recently, while under 1
the influence of liquor, boasted loudly 'at Abo that i
he would soon marry his girl, “even though old l
Barsky would have to go to the devil.”
Ida was confronted with her aunt, who, in scathing i
terms, charged her with having murdered her whole ]
family, so that she might marry her lover at Abo. 1
For a second or two the girl tried to master her agi- ’
tation, but then breaking into wild screams and ]
shedding a flood of tears, she confessed that ]
She said that her lover had sent her the arsenic from 1
Abo by rail, and had urged her to throw it into the f
soup which the family generally Lad for supper. At 1
the same he had sent her a white powder which she ‘
was to take after her folks had partaken of the poi- 1
soned soup; this powder would make her sick for a 1
day or two, and it would look then as if she, too, had 1
eaten of the fatal soup. <
This statement, after a careful investigation, was 1
found to be perfectly true. The scoundrel at Abo 1
was arrested and taken in chains to Helsingfors, ]
where he admitted his guilt, but was cowardly 1
enough to accuse Ida Barsky of having seduced him
to help her in the assassination of the family. 1
After this double confession, the trial of Ida Barsky 1
and her accomplice, Behring Pertz, which took place (
at Helsingfors on the 2d of September, was necessa- 5
rily brief. Both were sentenced to be hung. £
The Emperor, Alexander the Second, however, £
commuted the sentence to perpetual transportation ‘
to the extreme east of Siberia. Pertz was first, how- 5
ever, to receive one hundred lashes and to be brand- t
ed on the forehead with a red-hot iron. e
The wretch was almost dead after undergoing this
dreadful punishment. He and his inamorata are
now on their way to the living tomb where they arc
to drag out their miserable lives.
—. j
The sensation of yesterday in this city was the
arrest of Mrs. Victoria C. Woodhull, and her sister, t
Tennessee Claflin. About 2:30 in the afternoon they t
were arraigned before Commissioner Osborne, in the r
United States Court. A large and curious crowd
filled the court-room, and packed themselves in the v
corridor outside, eager to catch a glimpse of this b
They were dressed in plain dark suits of alpaca, s
and wore hats of the most jaunty style. Tennie was fj
flushed like a rose, and her blue eyes sparkled nerv- .
ously. As she glanced round the room, a smile of
contempt seemed to gather about her ruby lips, bhe
has splendid teeth, and takes care to show them. In
fact, Tennie is a pretty-lookmg young woman, round
faced, with well-cut features, and bright, animated p
expression. Her sister, Mrs. Woodbull, is rather
more sedate in appearance, and of a less lovely turn.
Both converse continually with their counsel, Coun- 0
selor W. F. Howe. Mr. Howe looked in his glory. &
His face seemed as fresh as a peach, and the glisten tl
of diamonds was like the gleaming rays of the sun.
The charge upon which these notorious women were s’
arrested was for ei
through the United States mail. The obscenity is tl
contained in a paragraph which occurs in an article w
published in Woodhull & Claflin’s Weekly of last n
week, which cannot bear reproduction hero. The a- 1
complainant was Mr. Anthony S. Comstock, a young a
man who has devoted much of his time to the sup
pression of indecent publications of all sorts. On e '
their arraignment yesterday, Mr, Howe at onoe de- &
manded an examination. The Commissioner said as ij
it was late in the afternoon, and as the proceedings
would be likely to last some time, he would post- '
pone any hearing until one o’clock to-morrow, The
ladies were then t (
Counsellor Howe escorted them to a carriage which ai
was in waiting outside. The multitude that thronged a
the United states building and lingered outside on a '
the sidewalk, crowded and surged after them as they K
passed out Bail was fixed at SIO,OOO, but no one ai
appeared to go security to that amount, and so the
fiir brokers must console themselves in durance as
best they way until to-morjc’u." I
The Voice of One WTTO has Tranted
the Distemper in Australia,
Interesting to All Who Own
Caution to Those Attending on
Sick Horses.
To the Editor of the 2V. K Sunday Dispatch:
Sib: I cheerfully comply with your suggeslion
that a column from me on the malady at present
prevalent among horses here might be Interesting
and useful to the public, as having a few years ago
gained the prize of £l5O or $750, offered by the
Australian Government of Victoria for an essay dis
closing the best means of preventing and curing
Pleuro-Pneumonia in cattle—a far more extensive
and aggravated form of the disease—and subse
quently treated both it and the horse affection most
successfully, I am in some degree qualified to speak
upon the subject.
I may add—that is to say, an inflammation of the
lungs and their living as well as covering mem
branes—was, previous to my arrival in that British
Colony, so general and disastrous that half of all the
cattle attacked by it died; but by the mode of treat
ment I suggested, it has been almost exterminated
from the country, and in the few cases in which it
occurs, it is almost wholly harmless.
My mode of treatment is based solely upon
science. Having been educated as a medical man in
my youth, and received in the year 1830 the Diploma
of the Royal College of Surgeons, of Edinburgh—
then the most renowned medical school in the world
—I applied to cattle the same principle as I did to
human beings, and with the same success. The
present disease as I have already remarked, but a
trivial or inferior modification of the other; but as
upward of 30,000 horses are at this moment affected
by it in this town, Brooklyn and Jersey City, its im
portance cannot be overlooked, and, I may add, if neg
lected, it may be productive of consequences equally
disastrous to man and to beast. My esteemed ac
quaintance, Mr. Foster, sub-editor of George Wilkes’
highly intelligent journal at The Spirit of the Times,
being of opinion that it may degenerate into Farcy,
while Mr. Bonner, of the world-renowned Aedtftr, «
whose experience of horses he informs me has been
of twelve years duration, and whose superb (rotting
stud I understand is unequalled, concurs with me
that it may ultimately lead to Glanders, which I
need not inform you is one of the most horrible
and fatal maladies with which either brute or human
being can be affected.
In speaking of the disease, I shall endeavor, as far
as possible, to discard all those technical terms
only to parade empty
knowiege or bewilder the ignorant, lam necessarily
familiar with them, I need not tell you, but I invari
ably dispense with them, so far as in my power, when
addressing the public. I shall, therefore, on the
present occasion, write in terms so plain that he
who runs may read, and he who reads cannot fail to
therefore, I may state, is nothing else than a combi
nation of the old-fashioned malady called in the
human being, croup, or in recent learned slang,
diptheria, and a violent cold, known by the other
new coined word, influenza. Its really scientific
name would be larynxia, or inflamation of the larynx
(that is, the windpipe), nostrils, and those cavities in
the skull which secrete or create these lubricating
fluids, and it is to be treated successfully only by
following the usual remedial measures adopted in the
course of human inflammation.
When a horse is seized by it, the animal, accord
ingly, ought to be considered as an invalid, and
withdrawn from all its ordinary labor. As the dis
ease has usually arisen from injurious changes in
the atmosphere, the victim should be placed in a
warm, dry, well-ventilated stable; made, if possible,
to sweat freely by means of a steam or vapor bath;
have its legs and feet bathed with hot water; its
body afterward well rubbed down and dried, clad
with warm clothing, and the whole stable kept scru
pulously clean, as well as fumigated by chloride of
lime, carbolic acid, or—what I prefer—a mixture of
tar and sulphur, several times a day. The mouth
and nostrils should be rinsed with a solution of
sulphate of zinc or sulphate of copper, and the ani
mal, if weak, stimulated by the administration of a
quart of warm Edinburgh ale, twice a day. If that
beverage cannot be procured, half a pint of port
wine, or a gill of rum or brandy, may be substituted,
mixed with a pint of molasses an an equal quantity
of linseed tea. The horse will swallow the former
with avidity, for he is no teetotaller, and he will take
to the other as readily as a child would to its candy.
Externally, I apply linament of iodine and hot tur
He ought, also, on this occasion, to be treated os a
pet or favorite child. If his appetite fails—as is most
likely—he should be tempted to eat by the mixture
of carrots or even apples with his mash—the latter of
which should consist of equal parts of grain or hay
and oat-meah It is wonderful to observe with what
avidity he takes to this. I have had horses almost
endeavor to pick my jacket pocket for an apple, and
when I was a trooper in the French army of Africa,
the fiercest of them were sometimes permanently
subdued by its presentation.
By treatment such as this, which of course must
be modified by varying circumstances, for horses no
more than men, ought to be treated on quackist or
general principles, I never found any difficulty in
subduing the malady in from twenty-four to forty
eight hours. The animal, however, usually remains
weak for eight or ten days afterward; and though he
should in the Interval be taken out for gradually in
creasing exercise, if the weather be favorable, be
ought not till the expiring of it, be put to his usual
If this advice be followed, I see no probability of
the present disease being prolonged above a week or
two; but, if neglected, the consequences may be se
rious indeed both to man and to beast. The animal
will often sink under the malady, and if the human
being is seized by it, the result may be more disas
trous still. Under all circumstances, the man, or
stable attendant, should avoid inhaling the breath of
tne horse; and if infected by it, he should be sub
jected to a corresponding treatment.
I shall not trouble you by detailing my mode of
preventing the disease by innoculation, as the opera
tion can be performed only by an experienced man.
Originally, I may mention, I was averse to it, and
even expressed an opinion as hostile to it in my
“Prize Essay,” as I still do to innoculation, as a sub
stitute for vaccination, in the human being. But
subsequent experience has convinced me of Its utili
ty, as even when a slight attack of the malady was
thus artificially brought on in cases of Pleuro-Pneu
monia, the violence of the disease was almost wholly
averted. My experience, I may add, was acquired at
a somewhat costly rate, as some of the virus having
entered through the pores or an abrasion of the skin,
my left arm was long and painfully swollen to near
ly thrice its usual dimensions, and it may be well for
operators here to keep such a contingency in view.
It does not occur to me that anything else remains
to be mentioned here; but if you or your readers de
sire, I shall feel pleasure on a future occasion in
alluding further to the subject, and especially to the
deleterious effect it may have upon our food, if the
malady extends to cattle, as it possibly may do. I
am yours sincerely,
D. Wxmvss Jobson, M. R. O. 8. E.
No. 60 East Ninth'street. New York, Noy. Ist, 1872.
NO. 1
By Julian Cross.
past—the battle’s rage Is done,
And neither lost, and neither won;
The pall of night enshrouds the sun,
And canhon mouths arc client.
The so’dier rests with weary heart.
And death has busy work apart,
The silent sentries sadly star ,
With gloomy thoughts foreboding.
No sound is heard this fearful night,
No gaming round the lantern’s light,
No sight but one—a ghastly sight—
A heap of dead and dying.
But, lo 1 among the wounded pile,
A maiden kneels with word and smile,
A lovely woman, free from guile.
To soothe the couch of sorrow.
She looks like some fair angel now,
With sixteen summers on her brow—
She speaks, as women best know how,
When weary hear .s are pining.
Oh ! noble girl! thy work, indeed.
Is worthy of thy Saviour’s creed,
To help these men who bravely bleed
For honor, home, and country.
A spell—it can not but be a spell;
I win not believe it true.
Long after the Countess of Hanton had re-
■ turned to her dreary home the young husband
' sat together discussing plans for Lady Viola
> Carew.
“I am really sorry for her,” said Sir Guy.
“You cannot imagine, Magdalene, how mag
’ nificently beautiful she is—fond of life and gay
ety, too. It is an awful sacrifice for such a girl
■ to be shut up in a dreary place like .Hanton,
■ seeing no one from year to year. The earl oan
• not afford society, and will not keep it.”
“Wo will do aii we can for her,” said Lady
Magdalene, gently. “So beautiful and high
born, she would be sura to marry well if she
wore once in society. Do you not think so,
Guy ?”
“I am sure of it,” was the frank reply.
“She is not at all the kind of girl I admire.
She is neither poetical nor spiritual; but some
' men would think her perfection.”
! “ We will introduce her to all the nicest men
in London,” said Lady Magdalene. “I did
s not know before that the Hantons were really
i in such narrow circumstances. What a pity,
Guy, for one of the proudost peers in England,
How I wish one could help without offending
c them.”
s She sighed so gently that the rose-leaves
, were hardly stirred, alid she looked so beauti
rjt that ho forgot all about his neighbors in
' looking at her. Had she boon lees graceful
' and less fair, his thoughts might have wan-
J dered, and he might have told her something
3 of his father’s wish over Viola Carew. Would
a it have saved her if he had clone so ? Would
j it have altered her fate ?
At that moment a. footman came with a let
“ Lord Lynnton's groom has brought this,
sir, and waits for an answer.”
Sir Guy opened it. It was but a note, asking
3 permission to dine at Haddon on the Tuesday,
, instead of on the Thursday, as had already
r been arranged. Sir Guy held the note to Lady
; Magdalene.
“It can make no difference, I suppose,” he
1 “Notin the least,” she replied.
! “ Then I will write and say so,” said Sir Gay.
r He walked away, singing the first few lines
j of “Ah che la moite,” flinging a soft full-blown
rose at the baby, who screamed with delight.
“Make haste back, Guy," said Lady Wy
And they knew neither of them what that
. change of day implied.
1 Would it have been the same? Who shall
’ tell? Great tragedies have turned on the
■ smallest trifles ; the least incidents have been
t the turning point of great men’s lives ; the
least word spoken has decided the fate of bat
. tie, on the issue of which nations hung. If
’ Lord Lynnton had kept his original engage
' ment, would this story have been written?
1 Who shall say?
The glory of the Summer deepened day by
t day ; the sun grew brighter, the world fairer ;
t fresh flowers bloomed ; the birds seemed to
sing new music, and the Tuesday came on
1 which Lord Lynnton was to dine at Haddon.
[ “If ever you can find any one like your own
■ wife, Guy, ’he would say to the master of Had
, don, “introduce me, and I will marrv her, if it
■ is to be done. Frankly speaking, Lady Wy
’ verne spoils mo for all other women, sbo is so
' different to them. You have been lucky.”
And Sir Guy, while he laughed at his friend’s
candid words, felt proudly that they were true
No visitor was ever so welcome at Haddon.
, Sir Guy always welcomed him ; Lady Wyverns
had a trank, kindly afleotion for him ; even
baby, the imperial, deigned to smile upon him,
' and submitted to be kissed and caressed.
The Tuesday camo, and every datail of that
day remained with Sir Guy until he died. The
; morning was bright and beautiful, the western
, wind brought perfume from all the flowers, the
, heavens had no cloud, nature seemed to lie
smiling, beautiful, and luxurious in the sun’s
bright rays. Before breakfast Lady Magda-
■ leno had gone out into Iho gardens she loved
■ so well, and he, half laughing at their enthu
siasm, had followed her.
Until he died ho remembered how fair and
sweet she looked m tho morning sun ; how her
dress of light, flowing, blue muslin, his favor
ite color, with its white lace trimmings, en
hanced tho fair beauty of her sweet face and
golden hair ; how she had gathered sprays of
■ mignonette end woodbine, twining them round
some fragrant carnations, and held them out
1 to him to admire.
“Bemembering, he could weep tears of
blood, yet he can never forget.
She held them out to him, and on tho white,
slender finger shone the diamond ring he
had given her —the ring of gold with the jew
els forming a cross. Just at that moment it
had caught the sunbeams and gleamod with a
lustre that dazzled him. He caught the pretty
hand and held it captive.
“ I waited until my patience was all at an
end,” he said, “ and this, I suppose, is cold.”
“Do forgive me, Guy,” she cried, “You are
not really angry, I know. I love flowers so
dearly, and this morning they looked so fair
and iresb I could not help coming out to greet
them. Have you ever seen such woodbines as
these ?”
He was looking at her—the fairest Howes
that bloomed under the Summer skies.
“Now I will coms in,” she said, “ and give
you some breakfast.”
He still held the white soft hand on which
the ring shone.
“ Magdalene,” he cried, “you have never re
moved thia ring since I gave it to you. ’
“No,” she said; “and I never shall, Guy.
My promises are sacred. It shall be buried
with me.”
“My darling,” he cried passionately, “do
not use such a word. It is past all my philoso
phy to believe that you, so lovely, so young,
so full of life, cau ever die. I can fancy you
“ Because you immortalize me with love and
a noet’s fancies,” she interrupted. “I have
often noticed, Guy, that you have a poet’s
dread of death.”
“ Say, rather, of decay,” he replied. “I am
ready to believe that death is the door to
another life, more glorious than this; but X
never like to think of decay in any shape. My
darling,” he cried passionately, clasping her in
his arms, “I could not bear to think of such
for you. The gold of your hair, the light of
your sweet eyes, the red on your lips, all seem
to me as though they could never change. My
darling, death for you must only mean some-i
thing brighter than life. Tou will be an angel,
watching me and those you love through the
gates ajar.”
The tears shone like diamonds In her violet
eyes. He kissed them away and she clung to
him. Ah, for years afterward, the touch of
those soft Augers seemed to burn hw

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