Dodgeville chronicle. [volume], May 22, 1868, Image 1

About Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current

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W. J. WRICOLES WORTH, Editor and Proprietor.
VOL IV.
DANIEL GUAY.
Ir 1 rliall win thq home In heaven
For who*e sweet rest I humbly hope and pray.
In the crcat c*inj)ny of the forgiven
I xftaU be sure to ilnd old Daniel Gray.
I knew him well: lu fact, few knew him better:
For my young eyes oft read for him the Word,
And saw how meekly from the crystal letter
He drank the life of his beloved Lord.
Old Daniel Gray was not a man who lifted
On ready words his freight of gratitude.
And was not called upon among the gifted.
In the prayer-meetings of hia neighborhood.
He had a few old-fashioned words and phrases.
Linked in with sacred texts and Sunday rhymes-:
And, I suppose, that, in his prayers and graces.
I've heard them all at least a thousand times.
1 see him now his form, and face, and motions,
llis homespun habit, and his silver hair—
And hear the language of his trite devotions
Rising behind the straight-backed kitchcn-chair.
I can remember liow the sentence sounded- j
• Help os. O Lord, to pray and not to faint! "
And $ bow the •* tonquering^tnd-t*conquer' -
rounded
a* The loftier aspirations of the saint.
He had some notions that did not improve him.
He never kissed his children—so they say;
And finest scenes and fairest flowers would move
him
Less than a horseshoe picked up in the way.
He had a hearty hatred of oppression.
And righteous words for sin of every kind ;
Alas, that the transgressor and transgression
Were linked so closely in his honest mind !
He could see nought hut vanity in beauty,
And nought but weakness in a fond caress.
And pitied men whose views of Christian duty
Allowed indulgence in such foolishness.
Yet there were love and tenderness within him;
And 1 am told, that, when his Charley died.
Nor Nature's need nor gentle words could win
him
From his fond vigils at the sleeper's side.
6 And when they came to bury little Charley.
They found fresh dew-drops sprinkled in his
hair.
And on his breast a rose-bud gathered early.
And guessed, but did not know, who placed it
there.
Honest lyxi faithful, constant in his calling.
Strictly attendant on the meuns of grace.
Instant in prayer, and fearful most of falling
Old Daniel Gray was always in his place.
A practical old man and yet ft dreamer.
He thought that in some strange, unlooked-for
way,
His mighty Friend in heaven, the great Redeemer,
. Wsnild honor him with wealth some golden day.
This dream he carried in a hopeful spirit
Until in death his patient eye grew dim.
And his Redeemer called him to inherit
The heaven of wealth long garnered up for him.
So. if I ever win the home in heaven
For whose sweet rest I humbly hope and pray.
In the great company of the forgiven
I shall be sure to find old Daniel Gray.
—,/. O'. Holland.
PtettUnay.
SOLD.
I h ate a steamboat.
I don’t mean particularly our own
steamboat—it we may call it our own.
That takes only its rateable proportion of
the hatred which I distribute over the en
tire steam navy of the universe. I hate
everything which bears the name of
steamboat. This feeling I at once allow
to be perfectly irrational, but that is not
the question. My antipathies are based on
a set of circumstances which I shall be
happy—at least, which I have no objection
—to tell, if you will accept them as my
contribution to the narrative pic-nic of the
evening.
My avocation is that of a solicitor. Now
lam a middle-aged man; but at the time I
speak of I was seventeen years younger
than I am at present.
I don't know whether any of you have
ever been at Orsova. Nobody claims ac
quaintance with that place ? Very well,
you have lost nothing; but, of course, you
all know where it is. However, to pre
vent mistakes, 1 will mention that it is on
the Danube, before you get down to the
Iron Gate, and that you stop there to be
put into wagons, and conveyed along the
left bank until you reach Skela G ladova,
where lie the big steamers for the Black
Sea.
Some business at Odessa took me down
the Danube to Orsova, whence I proposed
to go into Galatz, where the Russian vessel
awaited me. The business does not bear
upon my story. 1 was then the junior
member of the firm of which I am now the
head, and I can afford to say that I had
not then buckled to work with the ear
nestness which my partners might have
liked to see. They could, at all events,
very well spare me for the six weeks’ trip;
and though it was not, perhaps, exactly
flattering to be told that I could not do
better than undertake the Odessa affair,
instead of leaving it to a clerk, I put up
with the implied hint, and went away in
excellent spirits. I had never traveled
much, and was glad of the opportunity of
going where comparatively few English
men went in those days. Avery short
time afterwards, you know, came inci
dents which sent thousandsofEnglislnnen
into those parts, many of them never to
return; but in the year of which I speak
most of us would have thought a war with
Russia as unlikely as three years ago we
thought a war with Abyssinia.
You can all see for yourselves that I
am gray, and that my figure is not that of
a lady-killer. But at the time I speak of I
was a reasonably good-looking young fel
low. with probably as much consciousness
of the fact as was good for me. I have
now a son of whom the same things may
be said.
Well, the steamboat journey from Vi
enna, where I left the railway, had
amused me a good deal. I won’t trouble
you with the slightest description of Dan
ube scenery—probably some of you have
got Mr. Murray’s “South Germany” in
your trunks, or if not, you can get it
w hen you go home, if my story interests
you up to the point of wishing to know
more of the district. I am not vain
enough, now, to suppose that it will. The
Danube would be a fine fellow, if he did
not try to do so very much, but he is in
places preposterously wide, and in others
not nearly deep enough. The Iron Gate
illustrates the second of his weaknesses—
it is a sort of plateau of rock, over which
nothing but small craft can go; and those
often get wrecked, as happened in the case
of an American peddlar, who insisted on
rowing through the troubled waters. He
had knocked against too many snags, he
said to care for the feeble old rocks of the
Danube. He went oft’ with all his miscel
laneous wares, and was singing at the top
of his voice—
*■ Hail, Columbia, happy laud 1"
w hen his boat was cloven in twain, his
wares departed into the waves, and he,
providentially caught on a rock, gallantly
completed the couplet with a rhyme that
may be pardoned for its baldness, but not
for its profanity:
“ If I ain’t ruined, I'll bed ”
and so forth. I had a very good reason
for wishing that I had confined myself to
hearing stories of that kind on board the
boat from Vienna.
We were, of course, a miscellaneous
company, very unlike the typical repre
sentatives whom I have the honor to
address. I remember that among the
number, which was much too large for
comfort, especially at night, was a very
handsome Austrian officer, exceedingly
happy with his pretty and newly-married
wife, a Venetian. He had served at the
siege of Venice, and declared that he had
captured her there, but she laughingly
denied it, and asserted that she had taken
; him prisoner. He was fond of a fleeting
great fear should b * .seized as con
traband goods from Italy; in fact, he was
so joyous that he was an daylong Invent
ing some fun in order to keep himself at
all in hand. There were a few merry
girls, chiefly Venetians, and they were
going to Bucharest, for which free and
easy place their manners seemed tolerably
well fitted, and they much
some American ladies by marked fiirta
tions, in which there was far more noise
than meaning. Their mirth contrasted
with the sadness of a feeble-minded old
courier, who almost cried when any one
spoke to him, his grief being that em
ployers did not pay him as they used to
do, and that he made nothing by Ills trips.
It was very kind of the American family,
to whom he was attached to pay him at
all, for he was not of the least use, and
left them to manage every tiling for them
selves. There was a pleasant-i'aced Dane,
with a pretty sister. He had be(>n form
erly in the Sultan’s service, in the ship
building department, but had left it be
cause Jus pay was reduced. He was going
to Odessa, hut we lost hint at Galatz be
cause liis sister’s pass bad not arrived; and
although lie bad resided at Odessa for two
years, lie was not allowed to vouch for the
poor little thing’s narmlessness to the
throne of the great Nicholas the First.
An American lady called Iter a fleshy
girl, but the charge was not true, nor was
the epithet gracious. A splendid Alba
nian came on board with some Turks,
and lighted up the whole deck with his
glory. He was stuck all over with fire
arms, lmt they did not seem very service
able. The Turks said their prayers in
their usual attitude, which made some
ill-bred, ill-dressed, ill-washed Frenchmen
grin; but afterwards, when the chief of
the Mohammedans had some coffee made,
and kindly sent cups to several of us, and
it was found to be deliciously unlike the
dingy mess we got in the cabin, there
was no toleration for the scoffers, who
were a good deal snubbed when they at
tempted new sarcasm. There was a fine
looking Hungarian, who spoke no language
that I knew except Latin, which we bar
barized fearfully together, my English
pronunciation thereof not helping me to
his comprehension ; but we , r ot on some
how.
I just mention these people because it
appears that avc are in no particular lmrryj
and you may like a general idea of the
company on board the Danube boats, I
was the only Englishman.
During the voyage, which occupied many
days, owing to the difficulty of navigation,
our occasional transfer into abominable
barges, and the exceeding indolence of the
rowers and apathy of the captain—by the
way, one of the Americans had fully made
up his mind, lie said, to shoot that officer
for mooring us at places Avhere avc could
get no food—l cold him I thought he had
better not, but I avus almost sorry Avhen lie
consented to stay execution. During the
voyage, I say, I talked to every body avlio
could or Avould talk to me, and I flattered
myself that I was becoming a very accom
plished cosmopolitan. Among those Avhom
I specially honored in this Avay Avasavoung
lady aa'lio Avas traveling with her husband,
a man much older than herself. They had
come from London. She Avas Polish, he
was an Italian ; and I need not say that to
an Englishman they ventured remarks
about oppressed nationalities, and their
being drawn together by a common mis
fortune. Botli spoke English very fairly,
and it was'a relief to me to com'erse with
them after my conscientious but painful
efforts to deliver my sentiments in French.
Everybody should learn to. talk French,
even at the cost of confounding Pindar
with Pindar of Wakefield and the latter
with the Vicar. The husband Avas tall,
thin and gray, and rather shabbily dressed,
a long and rusty great-coat, and a fur
eared cap, being the principal features in
his costume. He had worn ear-rings, for 1
saAV the holes, but the rings Avere gone:
perhaps lie had been compelled to part
Avith them, face was rather handsome*
for a foreigner’s, and his eyes Avere dark
and fine. He Always spoke in a melan
choly voice, Avhicli fact I set doAvn to exile
and trouble.
The lady AA'as what I suppose I should
noAV call prettyisli —at that time I thought
her very pretty indeed. Plenty of light
hair, large blue eyes, and a mouth that
seemed always inclined to laugh, but
which was restrained, and made to substi
tute a pensive half-smile—those are my
recollections of the face as I first suay it,
ami as I saAV it until tlie time 1 am going
to speak of. Ido not knoAv that it mat
ters, but I may as Avell add that she Avas
rather tall, and Avore a closely-fitting dark
cloth dress, which slowed that her figui'e
was good hut slight. Her hands and feet
a ere not good—she hid the feet as much
as she could, but the hands she could not
help showing, at dinner-time particularly.
It Avas at that meal 1 hat I first spoke to
her. It Avas not a romantic introduction,
hut it arose out of a little bit of sentiment
on my side; for I observed that the vile
wine which her husband had ordered--the
best lie could afford—Avas distasteful to her,
and I ventured to offer them some of mine.
Englishman like, I had, of course, selected
the most expensive thing to be had, and
that was bad enough. They seemed sur
prised, but accepted the offer Avith ready
good breeding, and avc became traveling
friends. I sat near them a good deal on
deck, lent the young Avife my rugs and
wraps—her own appointments of that
kind were scant —and we grew very con
fidential. It Avas not a flirtation —let me
say that I was an engaged man at tlie
time—but they, or at least she, interested
me, and I suppose -die Avas pleased with my
interest. Tlie husband was more fond of
going forward and . moking a huge pipe
than of joining in our conversation, but
lie was always very civil and melancholy,
and accepted my cigars Avitliout any fuss
or undue gratitiide.
Permit me to say that 1 see what you
have made up your minds to hear. The
A'ain young Englishman made love to the
lady, and the husband resented it, and there
was a scene. Nothing of the sort. laa isli
that had been the course of events. We
could not have fought with deadlv
weapons, and if he had tried to thrash
me, he would not have succeeded. But
there was no love-making. I thought a
good deal about a lady in England, who Is
now, I fear, particularly anxious because
the Aveather is so bad, and she does not
know how very comfortable her husband
is, and in what pleasant society. The
DODGEVILLE, WISCONSIN, FRIDAY, MAY 22, 1808.
Polish lady was quick enough, I dare say,
to find out* that my heart was garrisoned—
if not, she is the only woman I have ever
met who made a mistake on such a
point, though 1 have met many who de
fied the garrison and tried to storm the
citadel.
e I should have mentioned that she called
her husband C'osnto, and that he called Iter
Zinna. This she told me was not her
name, but Avas Russian for Winter. The
reason for his giving it she hinted that I
was not to ask —some love-nonsense L sup
posed.
The sleeping and toilet arrangements on
board that boat were A'ery detestable. We
all occupied the huge cabin, from under
the seats of Avliiclx sliding.beds were pulled
out at night, with the feet pointing centrally.
When I say beds, I mean padded boards.
Nobody, of course, thought of disrobing;
but tve loosened cravats, kicked off shoes,
and otherwise made ourselves a little easy.
There was frightful snoring in that hot den.
With the first daAvn I used to rush out of it,
go up on deck, and, eschewing the hideous
lavatory appliances of the cabin, gh r e my
self an honest and a freshening Avash in a
pail of water newly drawn from the Dan
ube by the sailors, avlio indulged my taste
for a practice which their laughter showed
me was not very usual on tha t vessel.
We Avere nearing Orsova early in the
morning of the day I am going to speak of,
and I bad just completed my a i fresco Wash
by the botvs, and Avas looking at the Servian
mountains, rich in green, and decked with
shifting mist-wreaths —
“ Sir,’’ said a voice near me.
I turned, and confronted my friend Sig
nor Cosmo. T saluted him cheerfully, for
Lfelt very,chixviui,-thy rather that we,were
.soon to be released front our disagreeable
ship. But he did not respond to my at
tempt aj, civility, at which 1 wandered a
little.
“I wish to speak a word to you, sir.”
“ Fifty, if you like.”
“ Feiver ivill suffice. I forbid you to talk
any more to Madame.”
I stared at him with considerable sur
prise, because avc had parted in perfect cor
diality overnight, if going to different ends
of a saloon can be called parting.
“ I don’t understand, signor.”
“ Yet my words are good English.”
“Yes; I don’t mean that. But, avhat
makes you say this to me ? Surely I have
not had the misfortune to offend Madame ?
If so, it was without intention; but I have
no recollection of anything of the kind.”
“ It appears to me that a husband has a
right to say who shall talk to his Avife.”
“ Well, in a sense, yes,” said I, beginning
to get angry: “ but he must show some
signs of rationality. Here were we talk
ing in a friendly Avay on this deck a few
hours ago, and noAV you come to meAvitha
rude speech, and an older for which I see
no kind of reason.”
“ It is enough that I have one.”
“ No, it is not quite enough, signor. Is
it by Madame’s wish that you say this to
me ?”
“ It is by my own wish.”
“Very well. I intend to know Avliat it
means. Of course, I have no desire to
force myself on any one; but I shall not
submit to impertinence. I tell you that I
shall speak as usual to Madame when she
comes on deck, and after that I shall see.
If Madame talks to me, I shall talk to her.”
“ She Avill not talk to you.”
“ l ask you why.”
“ Because 1 have forbidden her.”
“ Again I ask why.”
“Becauseof my will.”
“ Look here, signor,” said 1; “ a quarrel
bctAvecn us Avould be very absurd, and an
Englishman hates to be absurd. But he
also hates to be dictated to. If you do not
choose to give me a reason for obeying
your desire, I Avill not obey it, and I Avill
ask Madame what it means.”
“You had better not!” he said, unbut
toning his long coat, and showing me that
he had a stiletto affixed to his Avaistooat.
This act put me into a terrible rage, and 1
said.
“Don’t try your theatrical tricks with
me. If you don’t button up that rubbish,
and apologize for showing it, I will knock
you down, drag you into the saloon, and
tell all the people why.”
“Do me first the honor to feel my arm,”
he said, extending it.
My answer Avas angry. 1 need not re
peat it.
“ Well, you Avill feel it iu another, way if
you disobef me,” he replied, and Avith sin
gular alacrity lie darted away, and the
next moment Avas diving down into the
cabin.
lon, in the beautiful play, states that he
has asked a- dreadful question of the hills.
It did not occur to me, not being poetical,
to apply for information to the Servian
mountains, on which I suppose I AA'as un
consciously staring, but I sought it at a
nearer source—my own vanity. Of course
1 told myself something of the story which
I imagine you thought I Avas going to tell
you. I had been too fascinating to
Madame ; and really I had not intended
to be so. But, after all, it is not an un
pleasant thing to knoAv that one can be
dangerous, and I began to feel less resent
ment against the signor. I Avould be
more careful. But still I would not be in
timidated into entire silence when I ap
proached Madame Zinna. In this moder
ate and rather complacent mood I remained
on deck until the time Avhen the beds
were usually pushed under the seats, and
the cabin was ventilated and eating and
drinking recommenced.
When I Avent down 1 suaa Cosmo and
his wife at the further end of the table. I
removed my hat, looking at them, but no
return courtesy was manifested. I took
my seat, and demanded coffee. While
Avaiting for it I looked several times in the
direction of my late friends, and Madame’s
blue eves turned on me for a moment. The
next, Cosmo suddenly snatched something
front her and thrust it into his breast
pocket, She made an appealing gesture,
but did not, I thought, speak. They were
on bad terms, then.
Presently he rose, and signed to lier to
follow him out of the saloon. He passed
me close, taking no notice; but as Zinna
came by she touched me on the shoulder,
and dropped a scrap of card beside
me. Then slie Avent after her imperious
lord.
On the card were penciled four words—
“ He has sold me.”
“ Two mysteries before breakfast! ” said
I. “ One certainly does get something by
traveling. What on earth, or on water,
does the Avoman mean? Sold her? She
must be mad.”
But that peculiarly British explanation
of everything Avhich one does not under
stand or does not like, failed to satisfy me.
If she had been an ugly old woman, it
might lia\-e done so; but her eyes were
very blue, and I resolved to knoAv a little
more. Besides, T bad only half forgiven
the signor, and felt new anger with him
for tlie violence 1 had just seen him ex
hibit. When I got upon deck again, the
couple were standing apart from the other
Devoted to the Interests of the People.
passengers, and near the wheel. I deter
mined' to speak to them. He can’t draw
his stiletto without unbuttoning that
abominable coat, 1 thought, and il lie lays
a ringer on a button] shall be too quick
for bint. .t n u(J Ortyxl all A ;
Sol walked straight up to them, raised
my hat, and said.
“Inyour presence, Signor, there can be
no objection to my asking pardon of
Madame, if I have in an' v Avav offended
her.”
He smiled, made no answer, but strode
away to a distant part of the ship.
“fto, it is he avlio is mad,” thought I.
But Zinna gave me no time to consider
what course, in a danube boat, Avas equiva
lent to getting a commission dr hrnatieo in
London.
“Offended me-" she said hurriedly, and
iu a loav A'oice. though one was near.
>No, no; it is you avlio are offended. But
you have read?”
“ The card ?—yes. Whet can you mean ?”
“ What I have wrote. You know that
Turk who gave you the coffee ? He is a
Pasha, brother-in-law to the Sultan. Ask
your friend the shipman ; he knows that
Turk. lam his. lie has sold me.”
“ Your husband has? Impossible !” I
.said stupefied, and trying to make myself
realize the fact that I Avas getting into
Oriental latitudes.
“My husband? No; we have deceived
you, but it Avas bis avill. He is my father,
and lie has sold me to the Pasha. I know
not when I ant to be taken oil' this ship,
but Avhen the moment comes it will lie my
signal. Igo there.”
And she pointed to Ihe turbid waters of
the Danulte.
Well, ladies and gentlemen, 1 won’t
trouble you Avith my sensations. I can
snm them up in a someAvhat colloquial
phrascyand tell you that I was struck all
in a heapj or I can dilate upon the gradu
ally increasing conviction that came upon
me, and tell you how I reflected that paslms
did buy ladies, and that avc Were close to
Turkish territory, and so forth. But I
had better relate what followed. Eaeli of
you can imagine the feelings of a young
and untraveled man AVlien apprised by a
young and charming girl that she Avas
sold.
I “But against your will'. That cannot
be allowed,” I said.
* “ The Sultan’s brother in-law can do as
he pleases. There is no escape for me but
the waters, and they shall receive me Avhen
I ant called to my master. My father was
making the bargain yesterday. Did you
not see him often talk to the Pasha ? Did
you not see him making signs with his
lingers ?”
“ Yes; but I thought he aaas showing
some trick for the Turk's amusement.”
; “He Avas bargaining for me,” she said,
calmly raising her blue eyes to my face.
“The Paslia bid him command you not to
speak to me.”
“Curse the Pasha!” 1 said furiously;
“lie is nothing tome. I will insult him
before the Avltole ship, the old scoundrel!
Claim protection from all of us. Do you
think that a company of Christian gentle
men Avill see a Christian girl dragged off
to a harem ?”
“ They see it often on these boats,” she
said. “It would be of no avail. The cap
tain Avould set me ashore on that bank,
and then lam on Turkish land. There is
no escape but that one. There aaus another
this morning—at least. A chance —but it is
gone. You saAv how it went.”
“ I saw ”
“Listen. We stop at Orsova. i kuoAV
one person t here; but he will not help me
without pay. My lather docs not UnoAV
him ; but he knoAvs what money Avill do,
and lie has taken my purse from me. 1
had thought to slip aAvay in the ci OAvd
Avhen Ave all rush into Orsova for break
fast. It is a poor chancy and it is gone.
But there is a certain escape left me.
And once more she pointed down upon
the stream.
“Orsova!” said a score of jubilant,
voices. We are rapidly nearing the dirty
lookirig town.
“My master will soon give the word
from bis cabin,” she said. “Ail, you are
sorry for me. You area good man,and
you are in love. May your bride be happy
Avitli you ! Give her this, from a poor girl
avlio lias gone down into the deep rather
than accept shame. It has no A alue, or I
AA'ould have used it in my great need.”
It AA'as a little cornelian cross, with a blue
ribbon attached —tlie color of her eyes.
“ Here,” I said, emptying my oavii purse
into her hand, and giving her a great quan
tity of gold and silver, “ for God’s sake
make the escape, if possible. Bribe senti
nels, officers, anybody; they will all take
it, lam told. In the worst, fly to our Con
sul, and swear you are English. Gain
time and bribe freely. Here are some
notes.”
“ There may be a hope yet,” she said.
“You are an angel. lam too young to
die: yet I will, if ”
“Don’t talk of dying. Conceal yourself
until the right moment.”
Tlie blue eyes, swimming in tears, avci c
raised again. She snatched my hand,
kissed it, at and darted away.
“If the villain comes near me now,” I
said, “ I Will fell him to the deck, let the
consequences be what they may.”
And I would, and should; but he came
near me no more, and I lost sight of him
in tlie rush at landing. - Zinna also disap
peared; but when, I know not, though I
watched narrowly for her. Then came
the struggle for the little AA-agons, the pass
port business, and the long delay, after
which we went off in a rapid procession
to the frontier, and so to Skela Gladova.
When the large steamer started, neither
father nor child was on board. I reached
Odessa in due time, sojourned there, and
did the business on Avhich I had come ; and
one night I went to the theatre —the Rus
sian theatre. I knew no Russian, but
thought I might as well see everything.
“ What does that mean ?” I said, show
ing a line in the playbill to my friend the
shipbuilder, who had by this time arrived
Avith the pretty sister of whom Nicholas I.
was so afraid. They had kindly come Av itli
me, though this theatre is not patronized
by the respectabilities.
“ A kind of interlude,” he said. “ Pleas
ing Feats of Strength and Grace.”
And they were very pleasing. The man
Avas very strong, the Avoman Avas very
graceful. But it was not so pleasing to
me to recognize Signor Cosmo and Mad
ame Zinna as the performers, or to notice
that when they retired, amid plaudits, ea ?h
threw a marked salute at me, with beam
ing smiles.
However, we ail get “done” a good
many times before we learn to be men of
the world. I don’t think I felt much
ashamed. Zinna’s eyes were so very blue.
The following epitaph may lie seen in
tlie cemetery of a parish in the environs
of Paris: “Here lies Madame N , Avife
of M. N , master blacksmith. The rail
ing around this tomb, was manufactured
by her husband.”
THE KU-KLUX KLAN.
Front the Cleveland Herald.
We are r .i. session of the remarkable
narrative of a young Clevelander avlio lias
lately had some experience—quite enough
for his own satisfaction —among the Ku-
Ivlux Klan of Middle Tennessee. The
young man is Alvah A. Richardson, the
son of Mr. Z. S. W. Richardson, a well
knoAvu lumber dealer of this city. The
story is entirely reliable in every particu
lar, and Mr. Richardson still bears on Ills
person the marks of the injuries received
in liis flight front the murderous band.
We give the story as related to us bv Mr.
R. on the first day he Avas able to leave liis
bed after his arrival at home.
About the middle of April last, Alvah
A. Richardson, of Cleveland, went to Mid
dle Tennessee for the purpose of buying
cedar land, the cedar to be cut and used
for posts, etc. Excellent opportunities for
doing a profitable business were found by
young Richardson, and beiu ulcquately
supplied with money, lie s >u made sev
eral'important purchases. On Monday,
the 20th of April, lie reached Shelbyville,
a town Avell knoAvn during the war for the
villainous seccssionism of many of its in
habitants. Shelbyville is reached by a
brauch of the Nashville and Chattanooga
Railroad. The only public house there is
kept by one Colonel Blackwell, a Avell
known and active rebel. At this house
Mr. Richardson stopped, and at once en
gaged in liis business. He had no difficulty
in satisfactorily arranging his business
with the bank, and found there was plenty
of such timber as he wanted for sale. He
-bought about three hundred acres of valu
able cedar land, and began negotiations
for a gang of workmen to cut the timber.
In looking about for w orkmen, he found
plenty, Avliite and black. The whites de
manded sls per month, w hile the blacks
w r ere willing to Avork for $lO per month.
Under these circumstances, and influenced
also by the fact that the negroes were
likely to be quite as efficient and vastly
less troublesome than the whites, Mr.
Richardson engaged a number of blacks
for liis work. This avc have stated definite
ly, as it affords the only clue to the
bloodthirsty persecution to which Richard
son was almost immediately subjected.
He became aware of the prevailing public
sentiment by hearing much conversation
at the hotel and about the streets. All
this went to slioav that the rebel element
Avas active and exceedingly bitter con
cerningthe supposed wrongs of the whites.
BroAvnloAV was denounced in the most
violent manner. It Avas a frequent remark
that a day of retribution was coming—that
niggers could not long be allowed to vote,
etc., while white men were disfranchised.
It AA r as also stated quite freely that the
Ku-Klux Klan was 30,000 strong in Ten
nessee, that it AA'as already extended to
Ncav York and other Northern cities, and
Avould before long wopk out a terrible
revenge for the followers of the lost
cause
Richardson, however, having no special
interest in political matters, *'llll not inter
fering with them in any way, even in con
versation, anticipated no trouble, and in
dustriously prosecuted liis business. He
procured a white man for his guide, r id
rode over tlie neighboring country ’.ink
ing for cedar land that could be lr,tight.
On Wednesday, April 22, he avus thus en
gaged, and had ridden Avith hisguide about
eight miles out from Shelbyville. Passing
along a cross-road in a thinly settled re
gion, they suddenly met two men, mounted
and armed. The guide said lie knoAv the
men, and that they (himself and Richard
son) had “better get back on 1© tlie pike.”
He gave no reason for this caution, but
Richardson assented, and they started to
go to the main road. Within a mile, how
ever, as they were passing through some
thickly Avooded land, half a dozen men,
mounted and armed, Avitli their faces par
daily covered, and their horses also dis
guised, suddenly rode from the brush and
planted themselves in the road in front.
The guide instantly wheeled his horse
about, and without a word disappeared as
fast as the animal could carry him, leaving
Richardson, confounded by the suddenness
of the maneuver, sitting on his horse a few
feet from the masked party. He had heard
enough since coming to Tennessee to know
that he Avas now before a party of tlie
bloody Ku-Klux Klan, but he knew not
what to do. He could not run, for he was
totally lost in tlie wild country. Jle had
not long to wait, liOAvever. One of the
masked men addressed him :
“ Stranger, Avliar do you belong ?”
Richardson ansivered that he had tliat
morning come from Shelbyville.
“You don’t belong in Shelbyville,” re
plied the man; “ whar did you come
from ?”
“From Canada, before 1 came to Ten
nessee,” replied Richardson.
“Canada! Well, you’re the one we’re
after!” Avas the reply.
The party were about to advance, Avlien
Richardson, almost unconsciously, wheeled
his horse about and ran. Tlie animal was
a good one, and the pursuers could hardly
keep in sight. Tavo or three bullets sent
after him only served to urge Richardson
on the faster. Finally he had got beyond
sight of the pursuers entirely, Avlien, in
going doAvn a steep hill, liis horse stum
bled and fell, breaking liis mvn shoulder,
and leaving Richardson lying senseless on
the ground, bis head terribly cut, and his
body badly bruised in a dozen places.
Here he would undoubtedly have soon
been in the hands of the K. K. K,’s again,
had not a party of negroes, at work near
by, Avitnessing his fall, carried hint oft’ into
the brush and shut him in one of their
shanties. The horse was ruined, and the
negroes killed him to end his misery.
V/ hen Richardson returned to conscious
-1 ess he was in the negro shanty, liis
wounds had been bound up, and his
c arky friends were preparing to take him
to Shelbyville. Under their escort he ar
rived at Blackwell’s Hotel, in Shelbyville,
during the afternoon, where the services
of a surgeon were procured, and lie Avas
made as comfortable as possible.
Colonel BlackAvell and some other of the
prominent citizens came into the room and
talked freely about the affair, the Ku-Klux
Klan, etc. Hardly had his wounds been
dressed Avlien a note Avas handed to Rich
ardson ; no one kneAv where it came from,
or if they did, would not tell. It read as
follows?
T t t
“ Chamber of Death.
** Stranger:
“ We give you from now till tlie next
1 train goes, to lea\'e Tennessee.
1 “If you don’t go by that time, we’ll call
; on you again to-night.
There was no signature to the note, hut
| the citizens present did not need a signa
! Hire to tell them the source ot' the threat.
! It was from the Ku-Klux Klan. lUchard
• son was not inclined i o believe that tlieir
murderous designs would be carried out in
! Shelbyville, a city nominally under the
control of responsible authorities, and in
connection with the military post at Nash
ville, Murfreesboro, etc. He told Colonel
Blackwell that lie did not feel able to be
moved, that his business could not be set
tled in the hour that Avould elapse before
the train left, and that he thought he
should not go. Colonel Blackwell, how
ever, ItneAV better than Richardson the
consequence of disobeying flic orders of
the bloody Klan, and not wishing to have
his house brought uncomfortably to the
notice of State and national authorities,
he strenuously urged his guest to leave.
Other citizens also insisted upon this
course, and so Richardson, bruised and
bleeding, unable to walk or even to rise
from liis bed, Avas carried to the depot
and put on board the train for Nashville.
At Nashville he fortunately fell into the
care of Captain Clark, of the steamer
Floyd, and Avas treated Avitli the greatest
kindness on the trip from that place to
Cincinnati. He arrived at home on Tues
day, the-29tfi of April, and was confined
to the house until Saturday, when our re
porter satv him and obtained the fore
going facts. Mr. Richardson desires to
acknowledge gratefully the kindness of
Captain Clark','"and says a more consider
ate gentleman does not sail on the Western
rivers.
The narrative of Mr. Richardson we
have given Avitliout embellishment. It
needs none. If there are those avlio doubt
the existence of a Ku-Klux Klan, or that
its objects and works are the most blood
thirsty and cowardly that can he imagined,
Mr. Richardson is not one of them —lie
know’s better.
FALSE REPORTS ABOUT HEX.
GRANT.
.Mu. F. Law Olmstkad Avrites to the
Nation the folloAving curious story, show
ing lioav a false report is raised against a
man’s reputation:
To the Editor of the Nation :
One day in the spring of 1803, Frederick
Knapp and myself w r ere guests of General
Grant, at his headquarters, on a st eamboat
lying at Millikcn’s Bend, a few miles above
Vicksburg. A curtain had been hung in
such a way as to give a certain degree of
seclusion to the after part of the main
cabin, and Avhen avc rose from dinner avc
were asked to sit Avitli the General behind
the screen, Avliere there was a writing ta
ble Avitli a pitcher and glasses. The Gen
eral then told us that he had a foAV hours
before received unfavorable intelligence
from General Sherman’s expedition up the
Sunflower.
Inviting our inquiries, and replying to
all tve thought it proper to make w ith an
unexpected generous freedom and pains
taking thoroughness of explanation, he
was gradually led into a comprehensive
review of the existing conditions of his
campaign, which it was easy to see Avere
of the very gravest character. We were
impressed as much by the remarkable
methodical clearness of the narration, as
by the simple candor and ingenuousness
with which it Avas given to us, avlio, the
day before, had been strangers to him.
lie took up several hypotheses and sug
gestions and analyzed them in such a
way as to make prominent the uncertain
ties and uncontrollable elements which
Avere involved in them, and I could not
hut think, so musingly and quietly reflect
ing AA'as his manner, and yet so exact and
Avell arranged his expressions, that he w as
simply repeating a process of “ thinking it
out,” in order to assure himself that lie
fully comprehended and gave just weight
to all the important elements of some
grand military problem, the solution
of which he Avas about to undertake,
(The last attempt to attack Vicksburg
on the north ended that day, and a few
hours after our interview the first step w as
taken looking toward the approach from
the south; but of this no hint was given
us, and we only heard ot it tlie next morn
ing.)
All at once lie stopped short, and with
an expression of surprise, if not of dis
tress, put liis cigar aivay, rose, and moved
liis chair aside. A moment before we
could not have imagined that there was a
Avoman Avithin many miles of us; but,
turning my eyes, I saw one avlio lmd just
parted the screen, comely, well-dressed,
and Avitli the air and manner of a gentle
woman. She had just arrived by a steam-j
boat from Memphis, and came to presen
General Grant Avith a memorial or peti
tion. In a few Avords she made known
her purpose, and offered to give in detail
certain facts, of Avhicli she stated she was
cognizant, bearing upon her object. The
General stood listening to her in an atti
tude of the most deferential attention, his
hand still upon his chair, Avhicli aviu half
in front of hint as lie turned to face her,
and slightly nodding liis head as an ex
pression of assent at almost every sentence
she uttered. When she had completed
her statement, he said, speaking very loav,
and with an appearance of reluctance. “ 1
shall be compelled to consult my medical
director, and to obtain a report from him
before I can meet your Avishcs. If agree
able to you, 1 Avill ask him to call upon
you to-morrow —shall 1 say at eleven
o’clock?” The lady bowed and Avitlidrew ;
tlie General resumed liis cigar and bis
seat, and said that lie Avas inclined to. think
her proposition a reasonable and humane
one, and then went on Avitli the inter
rupted revicAV.
A week or two after this, having gone
up the ri\'er, Mr. Knapp met this iady ot
a hotel, when, in the course of a conversa
tion, she referred with much sadness to the
deplorable habits of General Grant, and
the hopelessness of success Avliile our
army was commanded by a man so unfit
to be charged Avitli any grave responsibili
ty. Mr. Knapp replied that he had tlie
best reason for stating that the reports to
which she referred Avere without founda
tion, and proceeded to give her certain
exact information of Avhicli lie happened
to be possessed, which, as far as possible,
refuted them. “Unfortunately,” said the
lady, “I have certain knowledge that they
are but too true.” She then described her
recent intervieAv with Gen. Grant, and it
appeared that, from her point of view, the
General Avas engaged in a carouse with
one or tAvo boon companions when she
came unexpectedly upon him ; t hat lie rose
to liis leet Avith difficulty, could not stand
Avitliout staggering, anti was obliged to
support himself with a chair; that lie was
evidently conscious that he was in an unfit
condition to attend to business, and
wanted to put lier off till the next day;
that his voice A\-as thick, he spoke inco
herently, and she tvas so much shocked
that she A\ as obliged to withdraw almost
immediately. The next day, being
ashamed to see her himself, he sent liis
doctor to find out Avliat she wanted.
Mr. Knapp then told her that, having
been one of the boon companions whom
she had observed with the General on that
occasion, and that having dined with him j
and been face to face with him for fully !
three hours, he not only knew that he was |
under the influence of po drink stronger!
TERMS: $1.50 PER YEAR, IN ADVANCE.
than the unqualified mud of the Missis
sippi, but he could assure her that he
i never had seen a man who appeared to
him more thoroughly sober and clear
headed than General Grant at the moment
of her entrance.
Notwithstanding liis assurances, the
lady repeated that she could not, doubt the
evidence of lier own senses; and I suppose
that to this day Mr. Knapp and myself
rank, equally with General Grant, in her
mind as confirmed drunkards.
This experience is by no means a unique
one, and the zeal and devotion with which
I have often heard both men and women
undermining the character of others for
temperance on equally slight grounds, has
often led me to question if there are no
vices in our society more destructive to
sound judgment and honest courses than
that of habitual overdrinking.
Yours respectfully,
Fred. Law OLaistead.
We can tell another story of the same
kind. While Grant lay before Vicksburg,
a letter came to this office from a respecta
ble and generally trustworthy person in a
Western city, an ardent Unionist and a
man of influence, in which we are told, as
positively and undeniably true, that on a
certain occasion Grant and liis staff went
from Springfield to Cairo in the car of the
President of the railroad; that on the way
the whole party got uproariously drunk,
and that Grant was the worst of the com
pany. This the writer said he knew to be
t rue, and on this and other evidence he de
sired the Evening Pont to demand the re
moval of Grant.
By a singular coincidence Mr. Osborne,
then President of the Illinois Central Rail
road, happened to come into this office
while the letter we speak of was under
discussion, and of course he was asked
about the story he told. He replied at
once : “ It is a malignant falsehood. Grant
and liis staff did go down to Cairo in tlie
President’s ear; I took them down my
self, and selected that car because it had
conveniences for writing, sleeping, and
eating on the way. We had dinner in the
car, at which wine was served to such as
desired it. I asked Grant Avliat he would
drink. He answered, “A cup of tea,”
and this I made for him myself. Nobody
was drunk on the car, and to my certain
knowledge Grant tasted no liquid but ten
and water.”
This A\'as the exact truth of the matter.
Yet we helieve our correspondent wrote in
good faith. —New York Evening Poet.
-•-.
V Relic of Southern Barbarism.
A correspondent of the Cincinnati
Chronicle, writing from Chillicothc, Ohio,
says:
Coming out over the Marietta and Cin
cinnati road, on the evening of the 22d,
with Conductor liardin, I had the good
luck to fall in company with Messrs. J. N.
Wright and S. M. McMahill, of Greenfield,
Ohio. We had been talking but a few
minutes when the conversation turned
upon the condition of affairs in the South.
The operation of the Ku-Klux Klan, the
prevailing rebel preference of Andy John
son and Brick Pomeroy for President and
Vice President, etc. etc., were freely and
radically discussed. These topics naturally
elicited sundry parenthetical comments on
Southern character, and in the course of
one of these Mr. McMahill happened to
remember that he had in his pocket a relic
of the barbarism exhibited by the F. F.
V.’s towards John Brown and his confed
erates; and, producing liis pocket-book,
took from that receptacle a small piece of
well-finished leather of remarkable fineness
of texture. “That,” said he, “is a piece
of the tanned skin of Oliver P. Brown,
son of the famous John Brown.” “Can it
be possible?” asked an excited bystander.
A full explanation was, of course, imme
diately demanded, which I here present as
substantially given by Mr. McMahill,
whose reputation for truth and veracity
stand unimpeached by any one who knows
him.
During the action in which John Brown
and liis little Abolition band was captured
by the Virginians, Oliver P. Brown avus
shot dead on the railroad track, near the
United States Arsenal, at Harper’s Ferry.
So soon as killed he was taken up, put into
a box and whipped to tlie Medical Institute
at Winchester, Va„ to he used in the pro
motion of the professional training of
Southern Esculapians. Upon the recep
tion of the body the students of that school
took off the hide, somewhat after the man
ner of skinning a beef, tanned it, and had
it manufactured into moccasins, Avhich, in
the most truly chivalrous style, they de
lighted to use as ornaments to their
“blooded” pedal extremities on all public
occasions.
The piece shown by Mr. McMahill was
a scrap left from the cutting of these
“ Yankee-skin ” slippers, and Avas pro
cured in 18(50, at tlie Winchester Medical
Institute, by Mr. McMahill, while he aatis
visiting some relative in tlie vicinity of
that place. It was voluntarily presented
to him by one of the students, who, after
a triumphant parade of the slippers, and a
bloviating description of the processes by
which they were produced, heroically
exclaimed, “That’s the way avc se’vc
you d —d Yankees when you come
’mongst. us an’ don’t Avalk aftch bull
style!”
Facts to he Remembered.
It is a fact; Ist. That tlie so-called
Democratic party threatened, commenced,
and carried on the war of t he rebellion.
2d. That the leaders of the Democratic
party were the leaders of the rebellion.
3d. That the Democratic party con
trolled tlie States in rebellion.
4th. That tlie Democratic party opposed
every measure of the Government to sup
press the rebellion.
sth. That the Democratic party discour
aged enlistment into the Union army and
resisted the draft.
6th. Tliat the Democratic party gave
aid and comfort to the rebels in arms dur
ing the Avar.
7th. Thai tlie Democratic party refused
to give our brave and patriotic soldiers in
the field fighting for the life of the nation,
the right to vote.
Bth. That the Democratic party oppose,
every measure adopted by Congress to
restore peace, harmony, and security to the
country.
9th. That the Democratic party,by forc
ing upon the country, without a cause, a
long, bloody, and expensive Avar, created a
vast public debt, and imposed upon the
people untold sorrow and burthens gre
vious to be borne.
lOth.fThat the Democratic party are re
sponsible* for high taxes, high prices, de
rangement of business, cte., which are tlie
legitimate fruits of the war.
llth. That the Democratic party, having
uot quite ruined the country, now ask the
people to give them the power to both rule
and ruin It. —Jllinoie State, Journal.
NO. 36.