Claudine Lavalle, or, The first convict ; The Mormoness, or, The trials of Mary Maverick
page: (TitlePage) [View Page (TitlePage) ]CLAUDINE LAVAJJ~E~ FIRST CONY] * iHE MORMONE.SS; OR, UIJtS OF MARY MAYER ~bt UWZDALL A1~TOTh OOURI~R STEAM PRESS PiUWP.. 1853~ I page: [View Page ] '44 "4' '444'44. 4 "4. :~ ~ V. LAVALLE, OR TIlE 4. 4' 4~ 141 44~j, ;4 I FJR1ST CONVICT.4 CHAPTtR L "Nought i~ there, under heaven's holl6wiiesse, That moves more deaxe ~oinpassion of the aou1e~ ~EJian be~utie brought t'unwortliio wretehedne~e, By n.usliee's snare~, or io~une's freaka unkiuu4e." fSpe*z~&s P4iry Qt$ett~ It was th~ third hour after midnight, and the litt1~ Fren~h vrn~ge of St Charles4 in, the Territory of Missouriwas wrapped in deep.r~pose~ ~ot a sound broke hi upon the stillness of the~s~ene, but the. ~u1kn boom o~ t~i~ Missouri, as its swollen flood rushed onward, in its tireI~s journey 1r0m the Ro9ky Mountains, to mingle with th~ waters of the Mexican G~df. The thin crescent of the waning moon, red with tl~ smoke' d! the burning prairies, had just risen u~bove the long line .cf bluffs t~t skirt the eastern horizon. Her dim and lurid light invested vvery ol~ject with a melarich~ily air. A 11w sii~ hundred inhabitants that composed the .~tire poJulation' of this I~ritier hamlet, ~deep as soundly as if the stirrio~ passiousthat agi~ tate the minds ~ men were strangers to their bosorn~. Ax~d yet, in a feW short hours, the sun will dawn upon a day of ~ar more int~~nse exeiu~ment, of more deep and thrilling interest, than any other i~i th~ an! nal~f' that reg~on~ 1~e statesmanship of Mr. Jefferson had pea~efuUy ad4e4 to the dp &na$n of the giant Republic of the North, all that vast territo~y~ ~r~i~hiz~ ak~ng the 7ight bank of the 1~ississippi, throughout ite '4ok~ ~u~ue, and west to the Pacit~c. The banner of Castile and Leon lis4 ~ iow~ ~ed, and. the stars and stripes now waved over that regi4 ~Vhe re ituomeless 'despotism of Spain had given place to the free institutional .44J ~ our Re~i~bliv. Hitherto, the inhabitants of this portion of Upper Louisiana, as it wau~u I ~ ~ 44,~4 4' "4444' .44.4.4" \4~4 44I~i ik page: 2-3[View Page 2-3] 2 CLAU~INE LAVALIAE, administraLion of justi~ but the summar~det~i- styled, had known no their property were sions of a military commandant. Their lives~v*~nd now This change, so new to them, and so i ~ortant in its bearings their 5l~arest interests, was regarded by t ~ olA inhabitants with ~ to be placed, for the first time, under the 'iEeguard of a trial by solicitude. '' Mr. Jefferson, anxious to re~ider the newly est~b1ished tribunals ac~ ceptable to the people, appointed to the office of J~u4~e of that District, a man whom, of all others capable of performing i~ duties, he deemed m9st calculated to gain their confidence, and to rer4~Ive their prejudices against the new administration of justice. Judge Li~as ~vas a native of France, and though true to his adopted country, whic1~ he had ably reps resented in Congress, still, in heart and soul he was a Frenchman, spoke their native language, attd felt, in common wlth a very large proportion of thti~ people of the territory, the strongest of all bonds of union-a similar nationcd origin. The second WEonday of May, 1805, now near at hand, was the day appointed for ~o~1ing the first session of this newly appointed court.- The Sheriff, Clerk, and other officers were appointed, a jury had been sun~mone4,"and the Judge hix~aself Id arrived in the vill~e. One of the l&~st"~nd most c6niiii~dl6~s houses in' the town had ~,een rented and fitted tt~, and e~ei~y ~hThg wa~ in readiness for opening t~te court on th~ morrow4.' Aside from the new mode of administering justice which was about to be commenced, there was another consideration that instead the day with a still deeper, and more thrilling interest. On th~ second Morid~y of May, CLA~YDINI~ LAvA~LE, a beautiful girl of s~teena native of St. Charles, the~ orphan daughter of, wealthy and respect~tble parents, was to 'he~tied for her life. She, Was 'charged with the ~ppaTh ing crime of murd~-of murdering her own br~ther. The, motive' thht induced her to couuhi~ thi~ revolting criine,,ws al- most v~niversally believed to be, that she might inherit, solely, the ~arge estate which, by the will of her 'deceased father, would have been e~al~ ~ ly divided between herself and her brother, when the latter arrived at ~he age of twenty~.one years, of which period there wanted, at the time of l~is S~ich a ~rime ha4' never before been perpetrated since the first set- tleinen~ of the territory, and the story cf that bloody tragedy had gone fortb% with, a thousand additions, each, more rev9lting than the former. There iva~ not a log cabin on the remotest frontier, whose inmates ba~ I 3T CONVICT. , not heard, in F~nvh, Spanisit ov'~ English, all its revolting circ~xmst~n~~,g The very name ~f the' perpetra'tc ~r had becoine','odibus.. Y3re~the but the name of f2laudine Lavalie, and children' instantly ceased from th& sports, and cast around 'them a lo~'~( of' fear. The voice of public opinion ~va~~lflio5t unanimously against her,'~and called loudly for the punishment ~ th~ infamod~ fratricid~ who had steeped her hands in the" blood of ~er only brother, while he, uncon~ scious of danger from a sister, was '~~uried in sleep. Some of the ~ld~ inhabitants, who 1~ad seen that region pass from lhe dominion of Spain with no friend ~ eye, predicted, with many an ou~ino~s shake of th~ head, that the vile murderess would escape punish. inent, under th& new government. With the exception of her uncle ai~ l.aunt, and the venerablee priest of St. Charles, Father Laro~he, not otit'~, in her native village, believed her innocent. Even her uncle and aunt'~a~h many doubts, at times, ~nd their secret opinion was undecided, though~ they openly, ye~ in faint terms, denied that she was guilty. Not so was the priest. His conviction of her entire innocence wasjirm. Nothing cfrtild shake his confidence, for a moment, and he took, at once, an ene tgetic and decided stand in~ her favors This magnanimous defense of' the unfortunate girl, brought down upon the priest, much obloquy. The ~xciteme~t ~gains~ Olaudine was such, that neither the sacred office of F .ither Laro5he; nor his long life devoted '~o pious labors for their bwn ~o6d, could shield him from reproach. Some carried their indignation ti'v far, that tLey refused ~o hear mass, or receive the sacraments of their ~hurch from a priest whom they r~arded as the frieiid and protector df a mui'deress. Pis at.'' tempts to prevent the young girl~~rom being ~onsigned toa dung~oi~ of the calaboose, hardly appropriate for the most abandoned rul*ian, w&e charged against him as a heinbus otThn~e. H~ had 6iThred to guard her in his own house, till the day of trial, and procu~*e bonds to ai# amount, for her appearance at court. His generous oirer wdsindigp4ntly re~ jected, and Claudine consigned to prison. ' " A's th~ day appointed for' the trial drew neai'~, the jail was watched with increasing vigilance. ' Rumors of plots for her escape were rife,, and t1i~ public mind was kept in a continual exciteYhera, The dealre for' vengeance grew only the more intense as the f~ars of he~ escape. in~ creased. The bare possibility of such an event sv.eined to ~x4ilt~irv the public mind, sensations similar to those a beast of prey may be suppo~ea' to feel, who eees the victim upon which he is abont to feast, z~i dander &f being torn from his grasp. page: 4-5[View Page 4-5] d~AVI~INBLAVAL~$~ 4larmed by the reports in circulation$ h~he jailo~ refused admission to ~he, who had wise~ft takenti jpreca~itioii to 'obtain fre~x~ an t~thorityth9 jailer dared no1~ 4iaput~pez~nissi~~ tQ ViSit the pri~one~ whenever~ lie wi~hed~ p The parents Olaudine L~ivalle hAM 0 died many years before, 1eav~ lug two chll~ren, Pi~rre, arid Claudin~ who wa~ several years younger tha~i~her brother. After the death ~1" their. parents, they resided in the farr4ly of their maternal uncle, M~e. Duclo~e. Claudine had been consigned, l~ the will ef her 'father, to the spec-' ial care and guidance of the pries~ She grew u~p an amiable and ac- lished girl. The worthy del yinan found in her a p~upil who was grateful for his instruction, and' nor ~efforts were spared in her education. J3esid~s instilling into her mind ~14ch moral and religious prinv~j~J'es as he deemed necesBary to form a character that apProached bis ideal of female worth, he taught her m~iy branches of ed~Zcation, and some of the s~iences, which, at that p~~riod, we~e scarcely studied except by young~rnen at cogege. '4, ' 1'~erre,' on' the contrary, eark~! 4isplay~d an irnp~ti~nce~of ali restraint. He beeain~ iale, associated *it~.b~y~~f vicious habits, and ~t last, when r4rovedby his uncle, fo~ thea ~commission of a serious ofl'epse, left the tit1~ ~ithont his guardiai~s knowledge or consent. . Four years ela~~e4 1ie~c~5 h~e1jurr~ed. *J~If~ was now, in his ownopinior, 4inclepen- d~iu~ ~f tli~' guardianship o~ 14i8 uncle, though nearly two~ years must ~ he could legally; claim his share of his father's estate. Dii- ring'~t interval, Mr. D'~ic~o~ce had ~he power of with~ol~ii~g f~m his ward s~uy portiou~ of the it~heritanee that might, in his opi~uion, be misapplied, and by this n~1e'ans w)aa enabled to restrain. hiin from in- 'dul~ing his corrupt prope~ilties to tl~e full e~te~t of his inclination. To AhJieVeIr a ~odera%~, allowance, beyo~rd actual wants of life, Pierre $~our~4 it necessary ~o. conceal unaer an outward z~ppearax~ce of refurmaiioi~, t~~e itter ,depr~iyity and baseness ~f his heart. few *r~h~~after th~ reZnn~ of Pierre Lavalle, from Iris 4ong ab.. ence &f ~r years, there arrived in St. Charles a~ yo rgvrnati'of genteel ad4~es~ ~nd repossession~ appearance, ~y the name o~ ~ He W 1~. ~t2~T~ Q~ Ofle of i4~e l~i~l4le States, and the~~Wy seho~4ed iz~ aey$ce~ ~cprired }~ ~ long residence in a. populous city, ~nd ~rr2 intiu~ate a~ciaijion with well-dressed swindlers. Jrt a.~lw~ tiras he, l~carure the inseparable counpaniorr ofyeiing La~ va,~oi~e~ whom he g~ined a decided influence, in~ s~ite'~fthe:earx~e~t reur~es i~rid en~eaties of ble sister.. Robertson employed afl'hi~ THE FIRST CONVICT.. 5 arts to gain the favorable 'opinion of Claudine, but her pure mind shrunk~ intuitively, from all conversation with him that she could well airoid, and it was not without an effort that she constrained her feelings sufficiently to treat him with. the attention whirh the forms of soci- ety required. / The evident aversion of Claudine was well calculated to excite the malice of such a man as Robertson, and he secretly resolved that he would not hesitate at the commission of any crime, to humble the haughty 'girl, and bring her to his feet. From that moment he redoub- led his attentions to Pierre, who in a few weeks was persuaded, in op- position to the 'advice of his uncle, and the entreaties of his sister, to accompany Robertson on a trading expedition among the Indians, and from thence to New Orleans. On their return, after an absence of nearly a year, the air and man- ner of these two associates toward each other, had undergone a decided change. Hitherto, and down to the time of their departure from St. Charles on that excursion, the bearing of Robertson toward Pierre, had been extremely respectful; in fact, he had uniformly paid. him the most flattering attentions. Now, Claudine saw with pain that her brother al- most trembled in his presence, while Robertson played the part of a man who can trample upon another with impunity, and glories in mak- ing that power manifest to others. She was not slow' iii discovering what Robertson evidently intended she should learn-th~aV1~liere was a secret between him and he;r brother, that placed the ~ complete- ly at his mercy. Nor was it long before she became aware of the purpose which the unprincipled villain intended to effect by means of the fatal ascendancy he had acquired over Pierre. Robertson one day, had the audacity to pay his "addresses" to Clau- dine, believing that the deep anxiety which she evidently felt for Pierre would influence her mind~ Her repulse was firm and decided, but re- spectful. But when at length his, proposal was renewed, and in a man- ner not to be misunderstood, she repelled him with all the indignant scorn, and the deep loathing which she' had so long restrained. Irri- tated almost to frenzy by the scornful rejection of a girl over whom he had supposed his power, through fears for her brother, was decided,~ he threw off the mask of pretended affection for her, and boasted that by a few words he could bring Pierre to the gallows, and declared that the only means by which his silence could be secured, was to unite all their interests together. Claudine heard this dastardly threat, ~vith far deeper anguish than page: 6-7[View Page 6-7] CT4AUDLN1~ IAAYAtLE, OR she chose to betray, yet' calmly, firmly replied, that if Robertson actu- ally possessed the power over her brother that he boasted, neither du- ty to her brother, nor to herself, required her to sacrifice more than life itself to shield him from justice-that it would be far better for him, to betray his friend and associate to an ignominious death, thamn for her ever to marry an unprincipled villain, knowing him to be such-a fate ten-fold worse than death itself. The villain departed, abandoning all present hopes of success, though not relinquishing his purpose. Pierre now led a miserable life~ Robertson kept him in constant fear of exposure and punishment. One day, he asked his sister to take a walk with him, to a favorite grove beyond the village, where all the rural festivals of the youth were cele- brated-the favorite resort of the young in their evening promenades.- For some time past, a coolness had existi~d on the part of Claudine toward her brother, caused by his continued intimacy with Robertson, and their accustomed walks had ceased.' Claudine declined accompanying him, but when he assured her that he' wished to acquaint her' with an im- portant secret, in which his fate was involved, she consented. With the fond hope that a sister's devoted ~love might, extricate him from the toils of his unprincipled associate, she, took his arm. As they approached the well known grove of walnut trees, her heart beat vi- olently. Sh4~lreaded, yet earnestly desired, to hear the revelation of her unfortunate' brother, which she greatly feared would disclose some dark crime, of which he had been guilty. They entered the grove, and Claudine looking anxiously around, to see that no one was near who could listen to their conversation, took a seat upon the mossy trunk of a fallen tree, and with a livid paleness of countenance and quivering lips, requested Pierre to make the disclosure he had proposed. Instead of complying with the request, he utter'cd a shrill whistle. Inst~tntly a rustling was heard in the bushes, and in a moment more, Robertson stood before them. Claudine was surprised, and highly indignant, but not alarmed. She felt that under the protection of a brother, unworthy as he was, she had nothing to fear. Robertson assumed an air of humble, respectful deference, and en- treated her pardon for having thus undesignedly intruded himself upor her and her brother. His professions of love, and his solicitation, of her hand in marriage were earnestly renewed. Pierre joined his entire~ ties to those of Robertson. Influenced by the previous threats of his associate, to expose him to public execration ~ud the gallows, 'Pierreim. plored her, with all the eloquencee which his abject, cowardly rears in~ TIlE li'IHST CONVICT. 7' spired, to yield her consent. Claudine made no reply to these entrea,- ties but a look of withering 'scorn, and by tui~ning her back upon them, to return to the village. Robertson, .seeing her about to escape, sprang forward, and before she was aware of his intentions, seizing her rude.. ly by the arm, sought to detain her. "Now, my scornful beauty," ex- claimed the ruffian, with a fearful oath, "now, my scornful beauty, you shall not escape me. If you do notvalue your brother's life, I will try other means that will make you even more willing to consent to a union with me, than I am myself. Swear that you will marry me, or by hea- vens you shall not leave thu place till-" The ,rest of the ruffian's threat expired upon his lips, unuttered, for a loud, crashing noise, in the bushes near at hand, startled him, and in his alarm at what he sup.. posed, for a moment, was some one rushing to her assistance, he released her. The noise was occasioned by the hasty retreat of Pierre, whose fear of Robertson was so great that 'he cowardly abandoned her to her fate. When Claudine saw that her brother had basely fled and left her in the power of a villain, the imminence of her peril, instead of paraly- zing all her faculties, inspired her with almost superhuman energy and presence of mind. Recollecting that, by chance, she had about her a pair of sharp pointed scissors, which she had been using just before she and her brother set out upon their walk, she coolly, and with a firm hand, brandished them as a weapon of self-defense. Robertson was con- scious that he had proceeded too far to retreat with safety. His hand had'already grasped a pistol, resolved to secure his own safety, but in what manner is left only to conjecture, for at that moment of fearful peril to the unprotected girl, an Indian hunter who chanced to be sear'ch- ing for game in that vicinity, heard the wild screams of Claudino for help, bounded with the swiftness of a deer in the, direction of the sound? and arrived at that crisis of deadlyy peril to' Claudine. Robertson, muttering a fierce threat against her brother, if she disclo- sed his villainy, fled. Claudine, having seen the Indian at her uncle's, obtained his protection till she reached the village. Hardly had she seated herself in her own room, exhausted by the excising scenes through which she had passed, when Pierre entered, and, in the most moving terms, entreated her not to expose Robertson. His own life, he said, de- pended upon her silence. Robertson had sworn that he should die on The 'gallows, if his sister exposed him~ ~Moved with compassion for her fallen brother, and influenced by his as~ux~ae that Robertson was about to depart for Prairie Des Sioux,, page: 8-9[View Page 8-9] 4 8 CLAUD1NI~ LALVALIJE, OR never again to return to St. Charles, and trusting that ~'ierre would reform when separated from his~unprincipled associate, she gave the pledge ol~ silerice that he requested. She hesitated less in giving this promise not to expose Robertson, because his departure would relieve her from all danger from that source, and besides, she reflected that she could not relate the scene in the grove, without consi~mng her own bro- ther to infamy, expeUing him from all reputableso~ty, and perhaps of driving him, headlong, into a career oi~ cringe. Ev~!n should Robertson return to the village, it would be easy for her t~o avoid him. CHAPTER II. "What am I now? How ends my day of life? ~ For end it must; and terrible this gloom, This qtorm of horrors, that surrounds its close."-{Miee Bailile. For several wee)~s, Miss Lavulle neither saw nor heard of her per- secutor. He had left the village. Pierre, no longer under his influence, became regular inliishabits. The, hopes of his sister rose high, for what will riot a fon& sister hope fora brother~ 11e boarded at the house of her uncle, ate at the same table with her, and the rest of the family, but lodged in a small tenement, or out-house, a short distance from the house in which the family resided, but enclosed in the same yard. The dwelling house of Mr. Duclore, was one of those low, but commodious buildings, so common among the French of Lower Cana- da~ It stood some few feet from the ground, was of ~eat length, and divided in the center by a wide passage that separated one half of the house from the other. The room occupied by Claudinewas at one end of this long pile, remote from the sleeping room of her uncle and aunt. This, however, formed no objectioki, ~or the town was so quiet th~it few doors could boast either of a locir, oi~ bolt. To Claudine's door, botl& bad beeh affixed, at her request, since her interview with Robertson. About six weeks after ~he memorable scene in the grove, which we * have just related, Claudine, who had passed the day in company with her aunt, at the house of a sick neighbor, returned home just at dark. It was a part of her daily duties to take care of her brother's room. She now recollected that she had fail~cI to make his bed. It was not yet dark, and she hastened to repair het neglect, before supper, which would * soon beuponthe tabLe. Her uncle and brother had also been abserit dii- ring the day, and dined abroad, but both had now returned. In the direction in which Claudine approached the out-house in which THE P~EBT eo~vior.~ her brother slept, no one could be seen from the in~side. When she r4ched' the corner of the building, her footsteps were sudde~rly arrest- ed, by0the sound of voices from within. She paused, and bent her ear to a crevice in the wall. To her utter astonishment, she heard the voice of Robertson. He was in earnest conversation with her brother~ They spoke in a low, suppressed tone, b~it with all her faculties power- fully excited, every word, every syllable they uttered was distinctly heard, and fefl upon her heart like molten lead. She heard them concert a. plot, of which ske was the intended victim. At the dead hour of mid'~ night, when all the family were buried in profound sleep, Robertson was to enter her apartment. If he failed of gaining an entranceby the means they had devised, Pierre was to knock at her door) call to her, gently, and under pretence of being seized with sudden illness, for which he wanted her aid, quietly introduce Robertson. Should any possible mis' chance defeat their plans, and Claudine succeed in alarming the fami' ly, Robertson was to flee instantly for Prairie Des Sioux, while Pierre remained at the door of his sister's apartment, ready to swear that no one but himself hadapproached. Thus, in any event, all suspicion of evil intentions, would be effectually prevented. Claudine waited to hear no more, but glided back, cautiously, and unperceived, to the house. Pale and agitated, she entered the apart.. ment occupied by the family, threw herself into a chair, to collect her thoughts, and reflect, coolly, upon the course most advisable for her to pursue. Had she followed her first intention, the dictate of the moment, she uld have gone instatitly tQ her uncle, di~cIosed the plot against her, and demanded his protection. But a few minutes of cool considerationi, induced her to abandon this course, for it would be fatal to the reputa- tion of her brother, and deeply as Pierre had wrOnged her, she hadnot forgottenthat he was her brother. Guilty as he was, she tru~ted he would yet reform if he could be severed from all connection with Robertson. After long meditation, C~audi~e resolved not to disclose the dark plot, but adopt such measures as would efrectually defeat it. She ihou~ht olE asking permission to sleep that night in the apartment of hex~ a~4t~t, and on the morrow, obtain permission to occupy, thereafter, *i nearer .to her's. Hut, recollecting that there was but one b~4 iii her aunt's sleeping apartment, she abandoned that idea. Oii~ ~efI~ctioi~, atreal cause of fear was there, after all, to aeter her from remaining iii her own room? There was both a lock and a bolt to her door, either .2 page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 CLAUDINE LAVALLE, OR *" of which, alone, *ould bid defiance to any force that could be ptloyed; without alarming the whole family. -Th.e window wais~th~e caly remidu. -' ing entrance to her room, and this, too,' was secure against the possit ility of entrance from the outside. These reflections dispelled her~fears, and calmed the agitation of her mind. Supper was announced, and at that moment Pierre entered and took his seat at the table, with the rest of the family.' Instead of being op-. pressed with the consciousness of the crime he meditated, lhe appeared unusually light-.hearted, talked much, and in a tone of gaiety. Claudine dared not turn her eyes in the direction of her brother, lest her countenance should betray a knowledge of their dark designs. It was even with extreme difficulty that she could shallow a sufficiency of food to escape observation anpl remark, whic17 she was so anxious to avoid. She drank a cup of coffee, and by great exertion and presence of mind, appeared so much at ease that her extreme paleness, and want of appetite, escaped observation. Her uncle casually inquired of Pierre, when he had last seen Robert- son. ' Caudine felt her countenance become still paler,,as she listened, with downcast eyes and a throbbing heart, for the reply or her brother. ieg arnswered, promptly, and without the slightest hesitation or emibar-, r'assment, that he had not seen Rotertson since his departure for Prairie Des Sioux, six weeks ago. "He knew not," he said, "whether he still resided at that place, but believed that he had left the country altogethei-, and gone to reside in New-Orleans." Claudine could hardly repress the feeling of utter loathing which this new proof of, Pierre's villany and hypocrisy excited. It, required all the tenderness of a sister for an only brother, to restrain her fromt adopting means of 'protecting herself from their deep-laid schemes of villany, less forbearing toward that brother, than she had designed. Supper ended, and the famiilj withdrawn, from the talle, Pierre still detained his seat, all the time talking in a light and airy style of trifling, and busied himself in a tempting to balance his tea-spoon up on the edge of his cup. -At length, he rose sueldeniy, and under pretence of having just 'ecollected the subject, remarked with a careless air, that he. would take some of the fragments of 'the supper to feed his .dog, gathered, upon a plate, several articles of food, and departed.. Claudine had no difficulty in understanding, by this artful manonuvre, that Robertson was still in the, apartment of her brother, and intended.' that no one in St. Charles' should know that .he was- in the village, or, have any reason to suspect that he had left Prairie Des Sioux.- N THE FUtST CONVICT.'" 11 11 ' The hour when the family usually -retired to their beds,; ari'ived.- . Claudine, in conformity with the uniform practice of' French families, bade her aunt "Good Night," with an affectionate kiss, which was return- ed in 'the same k nd manner. Whern she bestowed upon her uncle, the same parting salutation, she whispered a few words in his ear that made him start back with astonishment, rnd exclaim, '9fonwDidufa/.'gt~z can the child want with an axe, at this time of night ?" 'Her aunt sawr by. the pale and agitated countenance of her'diece, that ishes.hadi~rmade the request for some purpose which she did not wish, .just at that rhe- nment, to disclose, and with the tact of a woman, camre 'instantly to her relief. Giving her husband no opportunity to distress the 'girV with further inquiries, she busied herself in procuring the article required, chattering all .the while with the volut ility of a sprightlyr French 'A oman, upon other and indifferent topics; Fortunately, the axe happened to be in the house. It -had been sent that day to a shop, to be ground, and the lad who brought it -home, in the absence of the family, left it irn the house. Claudine received the axe from the hands of her aunt, and without uttering a word, retired, taking it with her, into her own room. Then, first examining every corner of her apartment, and looking carefully under her bed, to see that no one lurked beneath it, she locked, and booked her door. After these precautions, as if to make assurance doubly sure, she drew her bureau against the door, and placed behind the tearit, every remaining article of furniture that she had in the room; The window, also, was carefully secured. She then paused, and surveyed her fortifications with a smile of triumph, perfectly satisfied that no one could senter the room, without using violent means that would alarm the whole neighborhood. Placing the axe, that deadly weapon of self-defense, near the head of her bed, without the slightest expectation that any serious tuipt to -enter the room would be made, and commending hiemseleirdntlyto the guardian care of, the "Virgin Mother of God," she reited toebt, with a feeling of perfect security. Fatigue~d by the labors of e'd#y, and, exhausted by the exciting emotions that she had endured, Cadtdine sunk at once, into a calm, and profound sleep. A noise of' an unusual' kind awoke her. The sun bad already risen. Springing from her bed, and peeping between the folds of her winddcr curtains, she saw,-with astonishment, several of the inhabitantf fthe village: hurrying- rapidly across the yard. The' view ifrom the witidow ~was toordimited to pertnit her to discover where they were going. M'ith page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] 12 CIJAUDINR LAVAtLF~, OR C I TIlE FIRST CO1~VIOT. haMe she proceeded ~to pdt on her dress, but had not yet completed her toilet, when a load' noise was heard at her door, and severM v6icea at cuse, called her by name, and demanded admittaiTice. Before she had time to remove all the articles that blockaded the entrance of her zpart- merit, the door was unceremoniously opened, and several men, acoor4~ paui~d by her unele, and a magistrate, entered. A crowd followed, and hung round the door, with openmouthed wonder and curiosity. Miss LavaUe~ ~a~ed with speechless astonishment upon this unexpected throng vf itiorflin~ visitors. Not so the magistrate, wlfb gave orders to his attendants t~ permit no one to enter the room, or leave it, till he had a legal examination of the premises. Looking around the room, with a searching eye, the handle of the axe, under the bed, caught his view. He drew it forth. Great God! what 'ci sight! It was the very same axe that the girl had placed at her bed-side, 6n retiring to sleep, but the handle of it, 'from one end to the dtlier, was clotted thickly with blood. Upon the blade was distinctly seen a t ut~t of human hair, of a dark auburn color. The gore, in con gealing, had caused it to adhere to the' smooth steel. The magistrate asked the stupefied girl, "how that 'instrument came there, and in that condition?" Before she had time to utter a word in reply, the voice of Mr. Mordaunt, a talented young lawyer, wJ~o had receht'ly settled i~ St. Charles, rose loud and' clear above the tumult, Commanding her, on the peril of her life, to answer no questions, and iitt~r not a word, till he should have an 'opportunity ol conv~r~ing with her, a moment, in private. Then, turning to the magistrate, he added, "I constitutO myself the counsel of that young lady, till 'she 'has time to clroo$e One, to protect her rights; and I will take the liberty of inforrnin~ you1~ worship, most respectfully, that neither law, nor yet justice, gives you the 4ght to ask her a single question, the an~Wer of which might cnirninate herself." *Th~mt officer replied that he had no such intenti~h, but, ~mi~che contrary, made ~he inquiry about the axe, under a full impression that she might explain, in a satisfactory manner, every citcumstance that appa. rently seemed to militate against hers All this while Mis's Lavalle stood motionless, silent, rind hor~sttuck, anxious to gain a clue to this mysterious affair, yet unable to utter u 'word of; inquiry. Her uncle at length came forWard, and dmbrricing her affectionately, informed the trembling girl that Pierre' had 13e&n fomXrxd that morrdng.:v~urdered in 'his bed~ The deed; he said,'himd evidently beem~penpetrat~d 'about midnight, for the 'body~, When discovered 'at eiw- was already cold and' rigid.' His skull 'had' been ck~v~n~'with 'an I '5 11 A axb, or sonic other 'heavy instrument of nearly the same shape. J3e' sides m~umerous wounds with which the body was gashed, the 'head was completely severed from the trunk. Th~re was another circumstance which, after som'e hesitation, he related to his njeec. Near Pierre's bed was found a shoe, a~d a 'shawl, both of which the uncle and aunt had inadvertently admitted that Claudine Wore, when she retired to her 'apartment, on the night previous. It is needless to give; in detail, an account of her examination 'before the magistrate. That officer 'deemed it Iris duty to commit her for trial, 'at the approaching session 'of the U. S. District Court. it was hardly possible that his decision could, in justice, have been otherwise, for the 'bloody axe, found in her aparunent, and many other circumstances, 'seOmed ta~furnish pooltive proof c~i bet &uilm. The appearance of her room, too, iadieated, beyond the possibility of a doubt~ that ho ohe had entered it. ~rid tjiat entrance Was 1nmp~ssible without using violence, which Evidently had, not been employed. Such was the belief of the niagistrate~ 'after a thorough examination of the premises, and such,%o, w~s'the 'opinion of all' who looked around the apartment. Cla'udine made no disclosure of the plot that induced her to barricade her door 'and arm herselff with the fatal axe Would it be bhliev'sd, she asked herself, that Robertson had made the base attempt that he did in 'the grove, and yet she say not a 'wordjo all this, even to her runt ?.-.-. 'Ignnraxit'of law, she knew not but such a confession, at that late hour, .might not ~be made to bear heavily against her. But there ~x*s still an~iher~mnotjve for silence, that weighed far more' with her than any con~ sideration 'of ~personal safety. Pierre, her only brother, wi~i~ had been fondled in childhood iii 'the lap of the same mother, was now dead, and rhOr 'wh6le soul recoiled 'at 'the thought of covering his' name with in- .fs~w.y, fortlie ~eltish purpose of 'vindicating herself. We 'have 'already 'said'chat public opinion, rose high against 'her, and with 'its thousand voices, sternly~ and without a single 'emotiqxiof ~pity, 4c~narid~d ~her punishment. 'CHAPTEa HE ~,,OhI po5r400in'aiije paride nfere? Poui~quoi ne'suis~jepa. ser~b1abIe, aim jeuwooiseau, Pout Ic nid so balance aux branches del~ormeau?"~ Soumet. ~O, why have 'I no 'rn6thet'~ breast, 'Oki 1~hich Yy~a~e1mlngireart to 1'&gki, iJ4~6~the 3~oiingi~ds, Whaftkis~, Which high iayekiders1iniss~e~? ~kt(beinIghft ~~arlirig 'he crialof ~hil1tme Lawille, the ~verierttbie ig page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] 14 CLAUDINR LAVALLZ 'OR priest had prolonged his accustomed visit to the prisoner, far beyond the period usually assigned to his visits.. Thethfrd hour after midnight, when the first scene of the story opens, Lound him yet in her dungeon. Under the seal o~ the sacrament of confession, she had related' to him again, cir- cuznstantial4, her first interview with Robertson, his subsequent course, his influence over Pierre, and the plot sha had overheard at the out-house occupied by her brother. N otwithstanding the impossibility of accounting for many ~ircuin5tanCe8 that bore with crushing weight against her, Father L~roche had not the remotest doubt of her entire innocence. His suspicions rested strongly against Robertson, but ai ter the ifiost diligent, searching inquiry, nothing had been elicited to connect him with that tragedy. On the morning of the murder he ~vas seen at Prairie Des Sioux, and no proof existed that he h~d left that place. The venerable priest did not conceal from his ward, that her conviction at the apprdaching trial, was nearly certain. No judge or jury. he assur. edl~er, would resist the strong array of circumstantial evidence of her guilt, especially when her acquittal would inevitably bring !own upon their own heads, a stprm of popular indignation He gave her, in detail, such in. formation ~nd advice as he thought would be useful to her, on her trial upon the morrow. It vA east midnight, when all that related to her defense,~and to her other temporal concerns, had been hilly discussed. Nothing now re- inain~ ~or him to do, at this last solemn interview with the prisoner ~eceding~er trial, but to fortify her mind to bear with calm r~ignation *the doom that might await. Deeply did he feel the peril of the afflicted girl. He had known her from the earliest days of her infadcy and since the death of her parents, had been, her guardiar~, 'and felt for her the affection of a father. He now administered to her 'the conse~t~ted wafer, and prayed, most fervently prayed for her, the lonely captive. It is 4oply when affliction s press heavily upon us, and every hope of humar~ aid is torn from the bruised heart, that we invoke tjie aid of Heaven with all the deep fervor~f~ q~r souls. The prices felt that no arm could shield the unhappy girl, but that of Omnipotence, and he poured ~forth his supplications with an earnestness that shook his whole 'frama, In the deep fervor of )iis prayer, thi venerable old man bowed his head till his white locks touched the cold stone floor. As if conscious 'that the intercession of the saints~ or even of the Blessed Virgin herself, could avail not in that dark and fearful hour, he addressed no prayer, no supplication to them, but appealed directl!J to Him who was ~rucifled.'-. * ~. It 4 TIlE FIRST C4)NVIVZa~ 15 ~Ie who bad himself endured, ~ri hi~n form, all the afflictions human life is capable, could best~Ae~l the afflictions el hutnanj'~y. '~ ~Ihe ~ venerable priest implored Hint, by the memory of his own arraignnwnt at the bar of Pontius Pilate by his own condemninion and death up~n false charge, to have mercy upon this afflicted girL The scene was one of deep and stAemn interest. There sa~t the youth. ThI prisoner, upon a, bundle of straw, pn~the stone floor, in the~n~dle of the prison. The feeble light of the ~xpii~ii~' la~mp4one dlm4d fit- fully, in the damp, unwholesome air of the~dungeon~~ Th~e ;she sat her manacled hands 'clasped ,in prayer, her head Len~ reyerei~tly toward th~ earth. As she moved, slightly, the clanking of her Qhainb sent forth a lo~v sound that vibrated upon the heart o~ the old priest. Mis whole soul was pc~ured out in that prayer. His supplications fail~ of in~piring either himself or his ward, with even a shadow of hope of her acquittal, yet in its stead, a calm a~nd Loly resignation, like a healing 'balm, diffused itself through her soul. She felt a cllild4ike confidence' in the wis&om and goodness of her Heav~tnly father, and whether life or death might be her doom, she doubted not that it would be meted out to her in love. The priest rose from his knees, and recommending Claudine to snatch a few hours of sleep, bade her a most bender adieu, and departed~ to~ee~k for himself a brief repose, before the labors of the eventful day should commence, which would require all his energies. , Claudine sat, for many minutes after his departure, buried in deep and painful thoughts. Just as she, was preparing to lie down to sleep, upon her bed of straw, her attention was aroused by a faint sou9d in a distant part of her dungeon.. To her' astonishment, a narrow 4oor, which she' had never before noticed, slo*ly'an,4,cauriously opened. A human figure, the outline alone of'.ivhich was vi~i~ie, in tjbe dim ol~scurity, entered, and by signs, earnestly entreated silence. , T~iis ur~expected apparition ap- proached the spot where she still sat, and stood, directly ,~eLore her. It. was Robertson. "You have nothing to fear," said he, "if' you are silent., I have come' to sai~e, not to injure. But you must, Oot imagine . that I will permit you to endanger my own safety, with im~~iity. Utter but one single cry, to alarm the jailor, and I send a bullet through .ypur1heart1, an(l then'escape by the way that I etitered, without affording q;~rly4zw, the least clue to my detection." As he uttered, this threat, he rais~1 his ann4 and the' light of the la~rip gleamed on the br~gLt carrel of api~to1. Fear and astonishn~ent, not unmingled with curiosity, kept her. silent.. page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] CLAUDINE-LA~ALLFJ, OR ~ ~I~e hastened to acquaint her with~th~ object efhis- secret-visit.- lie had. ' entered -by a narrow door that h~d #rig~een unused,. the existence ~of which was probably unknown to tb!~ %*e*~rit jaior, He had e~itered-by means of -a false key, which he had-~hh~xaelf -manufactured for that ~pur- pose. Robertson proceeded to address4he young prisoner in-the -most -gentle and -s~cthi~g tones of compasal'on. He expressed- the -utmost-regret for her ~ ~or/ditica~ 'H~ had conversed with many gentlemen of infiueiiee nad in~elligence,-ull of -whonr were~ confident that she would be condemned. He had a horse ready for her to mount, -a- few r-od!s from the pi'ison~ He wouki conduct her to his residence in Prairie Des Sioux, Where she could rei~iain concealed, till the next night, -when-he would embark with her in a skiff which he had already -provided, and descend the Mississippi to New Orleans, or to some other place, where, under an -assumed name, they could reside in safety. The moment it could -be done without danger of detection, hewo~ld. marry her, lawfully. 2~ow was her only chance of escape, he said. After her trial and con~ demnation, and -eortdemned ~she most assuredly would -be, the -prison would be too carefully guard~d-to afford him another opportunity of -en- tering it, without detection. Encouraged by her silence ~f believe that she assented to all he had uttered, he proceeded. No effort of - which he was capable should be spared to render her life happy. He professed unbounded-affection, and deeply ~depIbred his base conduct in the grove. Despair of -obtain- ing her hand in marriage, he said, had driven -him into a momentary frenzy, for which he humbly besought her pardon. "Come," said he, "we have not a moment to lose in making our escape. -it will -be Che work of but a few minutes for me t~ ~reliev~ you of your chains, and con- duct you outside of the prison. Oi ~mounted behinTd me upon -the iiorse which I have provided, and you are safe. -No one will -even suspectt the manner -of- your escape, and - no plsrsuit- will be made." Saying this. he advanced, and bending down to where-she-sat-on -the floor, took hold of her arm-to raise her to her feet. His touch pro- duced- the effect of an electric shock, and she recoiled as -if a serpent had sung her. "Begone!" skid she, in a tone that -expressed all - the deep -loathing of her-soul -for -his dark treachery and -villany, "Begone! - and leave -~e - to my fate! No doom that may await me, can -be so revolting -to ~e, as the one you propose.-.no,- not- even death on the gallows!" As~he pro- - nounced the- word gaiow&, -a cold shudder- seemed-to -pass through- her U GONUCT. 11' w ~oie fra~c, an~ she involuntarily paused. Quickly recovering from the emotions which that horrible image had excited, she continued: "Death, under aii.y form, is far preferable to a union with you, even could that union be sanctioned by the holy rites of the church. - You have inflicted upon me the grosse~ injustice, and attempted to commit a Wrong which no ti~ue woman can forgive, even on her death bed.- Ilut even this is not-all. I charge you, James Robertson, with the mur-- der of my brother.-~-in the presence of God, the searcher of all hearts, - I charge you with that murder for which I am c~omed to die!" In uttering these words, Claudine rose to her feet, and stood erect, before him. Her eye flashed, and her look -was one of stern defiance, and firm resolve. Robertson turned pale. With all his boldness of vil- lany, he quailed at the- unexpected charge of murder, a~d the fearless manner in which it was made, by a timid girl who, he had not doubted, would eagerly seize upon any chance, to escape from prison. But (1UiCkJy recovering his natural audacity, he replied: "You chai'ge me with a crime of which I am incapable. - Your brother was my dearest friend, and I can easily prove that on the night of the murder, I was at Prairie Des Sioux, and that for more than a month previous t~ that melancholy event, I had not once le~ft that place~" Claudine made no other reply to this, but a brief relation, in a few expressive words, of the plot she had overheard between him and her brother, on the night of the murder. At this disclosure the countenance of Robertson became livid. -~ ~Not daring to remain longer iii the pi~ison, he made a last effort io operate upon her fears, and induce her to accompany him. Finding all his arguments and entreaties hopeless, -he left the prison, his heart torn '~'ith the fierce passions of rage, disapp&iiited hopes, malice and revenge. Claudino made no attempt to rd~m the jailor, or prevent his escape, for she knew that the first cry sheuttered would be followed by instan-~ taneoi~s death to herself, without proving the means of his detection. lie had the power in his hands of gaining the outside of the prison, and of subsequent escape, an(l yet leave behind him not a single en- dence that he had entered. * * * * S * * 5- * * * - The long-expected day of trial, big with tl-ie fate of Claudine LavaJle, at length dawned. The sun rose as clear and cloudless, over the village ci' St. Charge~, as if every heart beneath his bright disk, glowed with joy at his return. The soft air of spring came over the wide prairies of thc surrounding country, bearing upon its balmy wings the fragrance .3 page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] CLAL'DINE~ LA~VALLE, t)K 'THE FIl~ST CONVICT. 19 of unnumbered wild lowerss, known onl'y to those iS~irnense plains o4 the West. From the earliest .hours~ of the morning,, people could be seen at a. great distance, some on foot, some on 'horse-back, and others in-wagons, all wending their. way to the village: Far as the eye coitid extend its. vision,~ tl~e broad prairie that sweeps off frotm. the village till it meets the horizon, was; here and. there dotted with moving points. Now it was a horseman,, there a pedestrian, a wagon,~ca.rt, or some other kjnd o$ ye- hide employed on the- frontier~. The land-mark by which they direc- ted their course over this "sea of verdure," was-ar tall, mound that stood alone in this ~ilent 'waste The storms of ages had worn and. rounded us summit into two graceful cones~ to whiclv the early French settler~ gave the appropriate name 'of "Les .4farnel1es.~' Entire families, from the aged grandsire down to the infant upon its mother's bosom, had ar- rived.from.~a distance of several days' journey. Great numbers had en- camped in' the neighborhood of. the village, and the smoke of camp- fires rose from alL the surrounding. gxoves.. It was not alone., the interest these crowds. felt in hearing the trial of Claudine that4~ad drawathem hither. Under the Spanish govern- inei~ they had been accustomed to' see the convict brought~ forth for pun-- ishul nt before the last. et~ho of his sentence had expired. They were' not aware that i~nder~ the humane laws of the Upited States an interval. of several weeks intervenes between the sentence of. death and its ex- ecution, and hence it was that not a small part of this immense throng of human beings came therewith the expectation-of seeing C1au- dine Lavalle executed. The hour of ten~ o'clock in the morning; arrived and' the d~rs o~ the building appropriated on this occa~j~4~to' the use of the court, were thro~vn open. Judge Lucas took hi~seat, and aie Shcriff, by his order,. declared in due form that' the court '~vas now open for the transaction ci: business.. The jury ~was called and sworn in, when the judge delivered to theni- an impressive charge both in French and in English.. The U. S. Attorney for the Thstrict then moved that the court do now pro- ceed with the trial of the flr~t case on the d6cket, that of Claudine La.. valle,~charged with the crime of murder. This motion was granted, and the sheriff ordered to-bri~ng forth the pi'isoner. In a moment every- spectator hurried £ron~ the court, ~nxiou~ to-catch- ~ g~im~ipse of the fiend in human shape who had murdered' her own ai~d1 only brother. The intelligence that she was about to be conducted int~o' court, spread like wild-fire among the engur. throngs that crowded' the I -streets of the ~iillage. The sheriff had taken the precaution of stim- moning to his aid a band .ef militia armed with muskets, and fixed bay.. 'onets, to keep off ~the crowd. It was not without -difficulty that even these, .arme'das they were, could induce the..eagerm~ilt.itude to lee.ve an open space for the ~ssage of the sheriff and .his prisoner. At length the massive key was heard turning the hoIt~ of the lock, anti ithe iron~barred door slowly swung open. -Claudine Lavalle -came forth, walking between the priest and the sheriW ,holding an. arm of each. 'She was dressed in deep mourning. On that day she. had 'paid more than? ususi attention to her toilet. Her attire was plain., but neat and highly appropriate. Its extreme-simplicity gave, it a gr~ce which no or- -nament eould have afforded. Months had gone 'by since 'the fatal day 'en which she was committed to prison, and it was now, for the, first time d~iring that long period,, that ~she was permitted to breathe 'the pure air, and gaze upon the face-of 'the heavens. To leave once more the gloomy. vault of her;dungeou,'and look abroad, even fona short space of time, up ontthe happy living world, and gaze upon the bright landscape with.which her eye had been Lamib iiar from infancy-this was enjoyment, exquisite though rnelanchply.. For a time, Iher thoughts seemed wholly occupied~in the contemplation 'of the scenery around her, .and her heart appe~mred.alive. 'only to the -emotions which that view excite&. Gratitude to that .Almighty Pew~r who had permitted her to go forth once rno~e, from her living~tomb into the free and happy world, glowed .i~n ~every feature of. her~ expressive countenance, 'and a tear tr-embledupan her long and droopfrt~ eyelashes. The crowds .of spectatorss gazed uponher in silence, and involmunarily opened an avenue for .her to pass through~ When they beheld the youth- Liii prisoner, pale from long'i~ep&Iemeirt, her modest, guileless air, the deep mourning in which she wa~)ressed, her eye beaming with grati- tude to heaven for even this te4or~ry release from her dungeons every heart-was ~touched. A~ she moved onward, 'every.eye- was. riveted' on that lovely face. Many a .stern-liearted back-woodsman; accustomed to death..grapples whim a savage foe-men 'ef -iron n0r~,' who -seldom "in- dulge the melting mood," turned'.~their heads aside ~to;- conceal their tears, and with quivering 14s whispered ni seriously to; thertiselves, "poor girl! poor girl.'" CHAPT1~R IV. -"And we will stand 'by thce;'- 34 sword is thine against tan thousand strong, If it should dome to that."-Basit. The appearance of Claudino Lavalle at the bai' was calm, dignified, page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] I" CLAIJ1)1NE LAVALL1~, Olt #21 modest and self-possessed. Father Laroche, whose devoted att~ention to his ward no unpopularity and no reproach could move, was per- mitted to sit by her side. The bill of indictment was read, and the case opened by the pros- ecuting attorr&ey who remarked that duty compelled hint to lay the guilt of the prisoner fully before the jury, yet in the management of the case he should take no undue means to procure her conviction. His aim, he said, was justice, and to no' one would proof of the inno- cence of the accused afford more g~atiflcation than to himself. The witnesses for the prosecution were sworn and examined. It was proved that Miss Lavalle, about six weeks before her brother's death, was seen to take a walk with the deceased to the walnut grove beyon& the village, from which she shortly after returned alone, and evidently much excited. Her aunt remarking this, inquired of Clau- dine if she and her brother had quarreled; to which Claudine made no reply, except that it was the last time sh~ would walk with him.--- From' that day a coldness on the part of Claudine towards her brother had been visible, and though the aunt named the subject to her, she made no reply, and gave no explanation ~f the zause. it was proved,' likewise, that she had taken into her sleeping apart- ment,' the very axe that was found there, in the morning, covered with blood. A surgeon sivore that the wounds of which the deceased had died, were, beyond a doubt, inflicted with an axe, and that the* tuft of hair adhering to the blade, exac~iy resembled that of the deceased. It was likewise proved that Cluudine locked and bolted: her door that night, and that no one could have gained entrance against her ~vill, without using violence that would have awakened the neighbor- .hood. zTdtat~no.ne .~but herself had entered, was evident' from the ap- pearance'o1~i~~efl 'the magistrate knocked there the next morning ~and~demiti~d~ ce. The shoe and the;shawl found by the bed-side ~of.th~eeea~ed', were proved to belong to Claudine. Her aunt testifkd that 'she~wore both when she retired to her sleeping apart- ment on that~6tabnight. On cross-examination, the' aunt te~tifled that ted on the evening preceding the murder, and at supper as deadly ptth~, and appeared to avoid looking at her brother; white Pierre,' on the contrary, seemed ttnusually light-hearted, talking and laughing incessantly. She also testified to her extreme agi- tation when she asked her uncle for the axe, and the aunt acknowledged, on being questioned, that she knew of. no use that instrument could be to Claudino, nor had she any idea of the purpose to whioh she intended to apply it. 20 The last will and testament of Jacques Francois Lavalle was int~'o. duced, and, after much argument, permitted~ by the court to be read, to show, as the prosecuting attorney afledged, the motives which the respond. dent' had for commitving.the dee4. , That instrument devised, property to the estimated. amount of. seventeen thousand six htuidi~ed 'and ninety dollars, besides' a Spanish grant of n large and valuable tract of land, which last claim was in dispute. This property was to be equally divi- ded between 'his two children, Pierre and Claudine, when the former ar.' rived at the age of twenty-one years. In the event of the death of cith- *er before arriving at lawful age, the sutvivor should inhprjt the 'whole eState. On the~ part of the defense, no testimony was sought to be, adduced, except in relation to the character~ of the accused. Her uncle testitl& that her conduct. had always been 'kind, amiable rtnd affectionate-that he could not call to mitrd a single fault she had *eomn2ittocl, from the days of her childhood to the time of her arrest. She had been to Pierre a fond, devoted sister, ever ready to sacrifice her own interest to his. It was about six weeis before the murder that he observed a change in her conduct toward her brother, a shrinking from his presence anda manifest desire to avoid him, but this appeared to have passed away, and her usual affe~tionate attentions were renewed. Father Ambrose Laroche was now called to the stand. His testimony in substance was briefly this: I am the parish priest of St4 Charles; have held that office for the last twenty years; 'had known the prisoner at the bar from her' birth; was the intimate friend of her parents, and on the death.bed of her 'father, the latter appointed rue sole guardian ~f This daughter,' Claudine; then a child hardly three years of age4 'lie had seen her almost daily ever since, and had been her only 'instructor....... ~41ie had ever manifested for him the tender affection of a daughter. In all the sorrows and trials of her childhood, she had.nev~er failed of com. ing to him for consolation and advice, nor had her. conduct in. this re~ ~pect changed in later years. As her guardian, her friend, and still 'more as her' copfessor, he said that he kne~v her~ heart, he believed, as thoroughly as it wa~ possible for ~oeTh.unr~n being to knew 'the heart' of. .~auether, .xand4eelaixed that he had lever known. any one so .trl~izunishle as 'she. With'a deep sense of the iresponsibilitythat iest. ed upon him ~ts a minister' at the altar of God, to divest himse.lf~ ~if all undue prepossessions in her favor, yet would he declare that. ~uich, was his 'knowledg~of the sterling forthh ~and truthfulness of ~her ~ha~c ter, that h~' would believe 'her on her bare 'assertion, in 'e~ositj~ ~, R1 page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] ~OLAiIYIN'E bA'YA'L1A~, 'Ott all the testimony' ~ that could he ~arrayed 'against' her. lie wotild have said more, but was interrupted by the prosecuting attorney, who pro- ites~ed against his giving mereopirmion instead of facts. '~The priest ~at down, resuming his seat by the side 'of, his yoting ward. Claudine had listened with breathless attention to the testimony of her guardian.; So' deep was the interest she felt, so eager was she 'to catch every' word the venerable Lather uttered, that she leaned for- 'ward'in her 'seat, .unmindPA of all, else that. was passing around her. When at length he took his seut by her side, she seized his hand, end, raising it to her 'lips, kissed it again and again with the fondest affec- tion. The warm approbation of her character which the venerable mata had expressed was a sweet drop in the bitter cup which she had nearly drained. The testimony on each side was aow closed, and th~ prosecutiiig at- torney. in the opinion 'of all, had convinced ~he jury ~thgr 'guilt. In all that' crowded assemblage of human beings, there was n~t one, prob- ably, except the priest, who believed her itmnocent. Mr. Mordaunt, the sole counsel of the accused,' arose, under these discouraging circumstan- ces, tie reply. lie has long since gone down into the grave. He died 'in' the spring time of his life,' before he had yet gathered the laurels that would hare rendered his fame enduring. There aro yetin Mis- ~ouri here and.there a venerable few yet hingeriog, who listened with thrilling interest to his masterly defense of Claudine Lavalle. These venerable patriarchs cannot yet hear that'plea named without betraying deep emotions. The ,writer 'has before ~him a copy of the ~brief 'notes taken down from the lips of Mr. Mordaun~ during its delivery,' by a gentleman longsince deceased.: These notes, though a mere sketch' of the outlines, afford sufficient proof that his effort on that' oec~asion, though hopeless one, was indeed masterly. Against the strong array of evidence in that'case,'success could not have been expected. He d~velt long upon the deceptive nature of circumstantial evidence, and contended that no imumber of probabi1iti~,' however numerous~ or 'striking, could make one 'c~rtaint!,., Where the testimony was not po~i- tive, a:jury could iinot saf4~r say on their qaths that the accused is guilty. A man might be found~'r6bbed'and murdered in a lonely place1 and an~ oth@ 'might 'be seizeti' near the spot with the bloody knife irr his~hand, and the watch and puree of'the victim~ iii his pocket, and yet be inno- centof the murder. He might have picked them up~where the ~t~e~l p~erpetrator of the' crime ~had thrown them. Whenever DiVine' Prp~i- ,4ence, he said, desired that a' murderer should be condemned by a him- CLAIJDINE LAVALLE, Ofl~ it was easy for that Almighty Pov~er' to fuenish proof.. If it was not fi~rnishedit was the d~si~n of that~ Power to t~ke the ~se~ u.p to Hi~ own tribunal. There could be no fear; he sold, that a~ mur-~ derer would ever es~dpe punishment, even when testixnon.y~ to convict hitnwas. Wanting.. BiQod calls for bibod, and it~ voice ~will be 1ieaid.~ Conscience, toot ptirsues its victim to the ends of the earthand even 1w the silent watches of the i~ight~. whispers'aPpaHiugword~. Mr. Mordaunt laid much stress ipmt the testimony ~given by the~ un~ c1~,, aunt and guardia~ to the arniableness of her department, and tlie~ spotless purity of her character. He closed with a powerful appeal to the hearts of the jury. Her ex~ t:rerne youth, her sex~, her erphan~ge, all were ui~ged with touching do-' quence. Every eye was moistened' with tears, every heart was affect-' ed; deeply affected, bu~ itot one convinced of her innocence~ A few word~' wei'e said in reply by'the opposite attorney, and the case was submitted. The judge explained the la~v, and summed up the evidence with great skill and impartiality; As~ he recapitulated '~.he eVil' dence and its bearings, her coolness to her brother, her extrenie' agita vion at supper on 'the night of the murder, the axe taken hito herr 'room. without any apparent cause, its,,,bloody appearance ~n the mornir~girf.v t'er, the finding of her shoe and shawl by the bed-side of the murderedd man, the impossibility of any~oue else having~ entered her 'reer~i~.as he recapipilated these proofs, every hope of her acquittal, if any e~rist~d~ must have faded. But no such hope did in fact exist, aud the recapitu~ lotion by the judge, one by one, of these proofs of guilt, vet 'eyed from. the h~arts of the multitude' every ernoti6n of cotnpassion i~hic1i~ ~ plea of Mr. ~Totdktrnt had excited, and a~vakened ' obce 1u~re a~i' ~ desire fot'hev punishment. - The juiy retired, under the charge of t~e she:nifi~ A feverish irn~a.' tien~ was manifested by the audience, atid many whis~ei7 other about' the trial 'and the probable len~ih of thee .the ed to each absent. To the unfortunate gii'l herself, the prisoner at the bar, this was a moment' of intense 'agony. She' 'had thoag~n jtM.t e~ei~' ~y ~ hope had bug since been discarded from ht~t hea~44n~ n~w ~ ~ wide is~ the difference bet\veen. ~xpebtatieii ~nd~ ~6.iial, ~ zoning ~onc~ re to l~er aid ~he eier~y &f1er~ powe~'ful ~ tnj~rd, anidsilex4ly ui~$oung from or~ high The s~uppott needft44~' j~ ~f~our, she ca4nl~ aviautecl th~ Vei~ict of life or death After ru~ absence o~ less that) flftee~ imnutes~ the ji. r~ returned i.nt~&' A"' page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] ~AtDT~E LAVALIJE, OR court. The roll wus c~dlcd, and each answered to h~s name~ Thd judge asked if they were all agreed, and was answered in the afiirrna- tive. The foreman presented to the judge a written verdict. It wa~ "GUILTY." Every eye was instantly turned upon the convict, to mark the' effect of 'that appalling won!. But the certainty of her doom was far more easily borne than the agony of suspense that preceded it. A smile of heavenly resignation beamed upon her features as she pressed the hand of the good old priest silently in hers. The venerable father uttered no exclamation of grief, and shed no tears. He reverently bowed his gray head, and in a low but fervent tone breathed the shea but expressive prayer, "On GOD! THY IIOL~ WILL Judge Lucas now put on the black .cap and addressed the prisoner~ "Claudine Lavalle: After a Lair and impartial investigation of the law and the evidence of your case1 a jury of your country on their oath. have' declared you guilty of the murder of Pierre Lavalle, your own brother. It only remains for the court to perform the painful duty of pronouncing sentence of death upon you. Have you any thing to say why such sentence should mnot be pronounced?" Here the judge made a solemn pause to await her answers Clau.~ dine was aware that the inquiry was a mere form, and that no reply of hers could affect her doom. Yet to her, the answer that she Would give seemed a relinquishment of her last claim, upon life, a severance of the only remaining tie that connected her with the living world, and slowly and deliberately she pronounced the single word "NOTHING:' but in a tone, an~ ~yith. a look that thrilled to every heart. The judge proceeded: "It is my order, then. that you be remanded to the prison from whence you were taken, and there kept in close con- fin~rnent till the sixteenth day of June next, on which day, between the hours of one and five o'clock in the afternoon, you be taken thence by the sheriff to the place of execution, and there hung by the neck till you be dead; and may God have mercy on your soul." It was near sunset when Claudine Lavalle, now under sentence o~ death, slowly wended her way back to her still dungeon, accompcttfl(( by her faithful gu~rdiau and the' sheriff. Her trial had been brief, fec the number of witnesses to examine w~s small. Perhaps, too, the law' Mis~onri, ~t that e exienditig a' plain and arly period, had hot yet acquired the art of alrnple t~ial -t6'~u alifiost intermi~able'Jength. The 'Waves of th~ oca~iu'e~e not'4n6re subj&t to sudden and violent changes than ~he passions of tX'e ~fultitu~.'~ Now thai Clau4~ )ia4 been convicted, and her death upon the~ galls in one short n~iiW~ '~ rpadc al ~olutcly certain, a cl~ino~e caiix ' the1 public I I~nn riasT CONV1~. seal of the ernitory. A verbal ct5#iditiot~ '~w$~ 4 - :~-" t- Pity for the poor girl took place ~f the fierce, vindictive spirit-ofL re~ ve.ge that had so lately filled every heart, and several 'of th~ most in fluential talked of an application to the new G~veaaior of the Territory, if not, for a pardon, at least, for a reprieve. In a few days, this new-born paesion became~so strong that hid~d~ who had been eager for 1i~r puni~bment no~r cried loudly against th~ injustice, impolicy and inhumanity of taking the life of a young girl, and really persuaded ~lremselvesin~o the belief that they had always been t~'pposed to her conviction. In this state of public opinion rather Laroche privately repaired to St. Louis, and called upon Gen. Wilkinson, .the newly-arrived Govern- or of the Territory. The Oertea~aI had alrea4y heard all the particulars of th~e ease from Judge Lucas, who telt a deep interest in the fate of the unfortunate girl. With a heart wari~ and ge~orous as ever beat in a human bosom, Judge Lucas. was yet inflexible -as the decrees 9~4esti' ny in the dischai~ge of every duty, however pain ul~trnight, be to4~i~r~. In every qualification that Ct~d~rns the 4tlice of ~ ~on~ ~up~ nor to ham has ~at upon the bench of. any court. in I~%issouri. flis e~- planation of the case had rendered him avertdlo to any 1ap~4 for aaercy, and the priest fourid no ditlicuky in convincing thee, f~4~ ~4t s~ddier that neither the cause of justice r~or t1~ in~ere~ts q1~9i~ ~ ty cotald be benefitted by tb~e public~ executiQn of ~a ~ir1 ~ ~4 even this act of huana~iity was vio1entl~ opposed 6y ~2few ~ Charles, wh4 insisted that a. murderess; murder suvli. ~ ance&# t~4~ crime was committed, ougbt~ r~veive no mercTy. TEe' 44e4,Pi vain t~ awaken in their naind8 mone eon1passionateemod6~ t~e girl. The Govemno~ at length became irAta~&1 at their per~ver~ng q~ stina.cy1 and sarcastically remarked that'thie urgent. lic executionn of Claudine Lavallewaa ii e4~sa~ ~ mataity. If, he said, the convict had ~ arrival, they ~ht'han,~1wra~i welcome or such a 'pe±abundan~,e ~t ~ii4 ~ 4tj~y ~ c4eflplaix of his sparin~ the llt.of~ ~he old priest ~iug1ied ft~i tlit verv~leDth& t~1* 4~i~ ~ - ~. ;;r e page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] OLAIJDINE I&AVALLE, OR within the next five years. To this stipulation F~tlier t~roche mad~ no objections, for it ~iccoraed fully with his plans in 'her behalf. In a few days more, a report became current in St. Charles and the ~urr~undirig country, that Claudino Lavalle had been pardoned by the Governor, and 'shortly after left the prison in the night. But when she departed, or whither she had done, no. one knew except the priest. CHAPTER V. '~I've known her long; of worth meet exedlent, - ~3ut ifl the day of woe, ilm everrose Upon the mind, with ~dded ina~jesty, - M 'the darh mountain more sublimely towei~, Ma~t1ed in~cloude and etornis."-Di Mon'tfort. Years roled on. ~A tide ot emigration from every State in th4 Union, and from every Kingdom of 3l~urope, poured into the new Ter.~ r~teryef Mis~ouri4 The deep forests' resounded with the blows of th~ ~ttlers' aXe. The prairies over which herds of buffalo had lately roau~- ed were 'now fenced hto squares, from the center of ~.vhich rose the smoke of the emigrant~s cabin. In the space o~ but a few years the population had mOre than doutled. At length Missouri become a State, was adaeitted into ~the Union. St. Charles, too, felt the onward im- Vils~ 9! the Anglo-American race. Tweity gone by since ~i.~hich Claudine Lavalle was~there tried for her life.. In- st~a4'of E~h g described as a ~rriall French village, it is now denon~inat- ~d~ft~hI~ comm~rc~al~ town, with a Lew inhabjtants' of French on- gin. ~l~ga~it "xn~ns~oi~s dccupy th~ site of many a quaint' 'cRbin. Ware-ho~'~' the principal stre~ts, and ~teamboats receiVe and h'~th~ir h' th~ Indian moored his bark c ais aree freightwere ' auoe. The 1lighi~of a~ century would n~t affect~ the' changeless~ waveless monotony of a 'European. or~ i v~l4its pasthist~ory' in the deep obli~jon thatAw~en~ ty yeats have' wiou 'Iit~ ~t. Charles.., Few survive who ever heard even the name 6~ d~pdhie 'La~~lle. All remembrance 'of her thrilling story has fadet I~rc~ii~ hei~ native 'village, ~xcept amor~g a f~ew aged in- habitants, ~ux~nclpaI~y~ iniil~ ~vho, $re~liiig~r among the new race, like the bare handle 't1~& 'whose trunks the axe has spared~ Many i bosom that throbberd with intense emotion while listening to her trial, has long since ee&a~tVto beat. ' ' ' We will, new, tiu'n to~a far distant scene. Enter with us atitI~ ~nansion in Chantres street, New Orleans, the town residence of ~el4 i TIfl~ FIRST C~NVtOT. 27 Ralinond D'Iberville, a wealthy planter of the Coast. A lady of thirty. five years~, whose form and features are stiUbeautiful,~ sits alone, reclin- eng in a pensive attitude upon a rich ottoman. The cpstly furniture and the elegance of the apartment afford her no pleasure. Her, thoughts are far away and busied with the, long past. Sadness like a darl~ cloud steals over her expressive countenance, and grows deeper and deeper as thought after thought comes thronging onward, and calls up the scenes of other' times. A gentleman of tall, manly figure, but apparently ten years older than herself, enters." His presence ha~s not awakened" the pensive lady from her melancholy reverie. She is unconscious that an one has entered the room.' The gentleman "'gazes upon 'her mourn~LlI brow for several minutes, with a look of the fondest affection inin~led with pity. 'At length he addressed her in French: "Ah! ma chere Ma- rie! dreaming over the past? How I hate the annual return of this day! You are always' thoughtful and sa4 for w~eks afterward. I wi~h th~ second Monday of May 'had been Left out of~the calendar! No! no~ not quitretkcs& either; for if there had been no second Mond~y~of May, I sho~4db~" Ve heard of you, and then Marie wo~Id noi1i~ve been my littLe ~'~' '~No! no! I will not be quite so 'hard on that~ day." While sa~i this lie had taken a seat upon the ottoman, 'and inge~i~ ously con4ved to place her upon his knee. The lady, awakened' f~om' her reverie; could not avoid smiling at her husband, and said, "do you know, Raimond, what' Madam DLlval' said of you the other day? She said she could not have believed we were married, ~had she xipt actually seen th~ ceremony 'performed, for you aet, she says, ~ lover to me, and not at all like a husband." "Well," replj~d ;C~h~TJ'I~yrville~ "the ~ld gossip, with all her spite, is not-far' from 'the truth thi~ once in her life, at least,, for I am indeed a lover, and my affection for you.~ now is even more devoted than it was when I told my mother, that I would not live unless she consented to my marriug&,with jyou.". Inadvertently he had touched a chord' ~ all her sorrows afresh. "Yes," she replied, "why should net,~the widowed. mother of an only son, the heir of wealth and an hQnornble. ~azne, recoil a~tlie union of that son with a pardoned convict, one who 'had xbe~~ntenced to the gallows. "But," added she, after a mno~rien' thankful that I have nothing to reproach ys~lf ~vitW ' i. rd to that excellent mother. -'When at her own s~~citation the Si~ste~fCh~nity ~ient to her house the young noise to whom' tfry bad givpn' the' name gf Marie, sent to become her nurse, I could not tQ~vsee. fi4~ire events. ~Iheznon~nt you proposed marriage I revealed to you~QtII the story of 27 ar page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] CLAVDIN~ LAVALU~, c~t my infamy, bra instead of extinguishing your affection at once, you be~ oat~e still more. devoted to the unfortunate 8irl, and wrun~ ti~om your mother; and at last from iiie, a consent to our union. Had not your mother herself implored me to marry you, I would never have united your destiny' with that of a pardoned"convict~" It need not be told that Madam D'Iberville, the wealthy and polished lady whose ;society W~s cotirted by the highest ranks in New Orleans, ~vas no other than the Glaudine Lavalle whom we saw twenty years ago that very day conducted from the court in St. Charles under sen- tence of death. When the venerable priest had obtained her pardon, ~n. the very x~ight of his return he placed her in the care of a lady who was ge&ng with her husband to New Orleans. to embark for France. 1-fe consigned his unfortunate ward to the care of his sister in that city, who was the Superior of the well~known order of nuns, th& Sisters of Charity. Cl&udin~ was received by the Superior with every mark of confidence and 1alfection, and immediately became a novice, with tke ~nt~ntioh of taking the v~wa of the ~der~hn the three years of her ~vitiate should have expired. All novices, wh~n they~ er a convent, receive~ a new na~ne~ She took that of Sister Marie isericordo. This name was often fondly used by her husband. Not lone after her admission, Madam D'Iberville, a widd~ of distin- guished excellence, re~pzested the Superior to permit the young novice, ~arie, 'to reside for .a time in her family, and watch over .her declining health. The gentle girl ~oen w~n the confidence 'of Madam D'Iber- i-ills, and made a still deeper impression upon the heart of her son. The. widow iwt o!ily gave her consent to the union of her aen w~tb Claudine, but implored the girl; who. had decidedly refused, to give him kr hand. OxVher. deatli.~be'd the venerable' widow bestowedher bless- ing upon her ilaughter.in-l~w, whose wo~th she had more fully seen, and thanked Heaven for giving to her son so inestimable a wife. In the afternoon of the day on which the scene we have described opened, the 'twentieth anniversary of the trial of Claudine Lavalle, Madam D'Ibervllle Loft an irresistible impulse to visit the Hospital of the Sisters~of Charity, among whom she had found an asylum when' she arrivedd 'in that cit~r a friendless 'out-cast. Her~husband kindly- attempt. ed to disei~ade her, kitowing how 'roelanclinly would be the remejn- brance 'which this -visit would recall. When he found his ~ntreaties vain, he offered t~ attend -her. Both resolved t6 signalize this visit by a large donation to' that truly. charitable institution. adatn D'Iberville wa~ kindly received by the Sisters, and especially U THE YIRST CONTVIC. by the v~erable Superior, her early friend, who yet survived. They conducted their two visitors through the various apartments of the es- tablishment and the wards of the sick. As they approached the bed- side of a man who had but just been brought to the hospital in a dan- gerous condition, the agonizing groans of the patient excited their corn. passion.. They came to his side, and Madam D'Iberville, in a tone of soothing compassion, asked him if she could do anything to relieve his sufferings. At the sound of 'ier voice, the dying man 'started wildly and exdaimed, "Oh God! is that C'laudine Lavalle?" Gazing intent- ly upon her for a moment, he cried, "yes; it is her. Thank God that her murder, too, is not on' my soul at this fearful hour. Send instantly for a magistrate to take down my confession. Make haste, for the sands of my life are fast ebbing away. I am James, Robertson, the murderer of your brother,, for tvhi~h ctirne you were condemned to die, and my confession is necessary for your vindication. Be quick, for my minutes are numbered." Col. D'Iberville lost no time ~ procuring the attendance 9f a magis. trate, who took down, in legal form, the dying confession of Robertson., The substance of his disclosure, omitting circumstances ,already known to the render, is the following: Robertson, burning with malice and~ ~eveng9 at the repulse he had received from the pure-minded Claudine, resolved to humble the haugh~.- ty girl over whose heart even his ,wiles had' no influence, and at the risk ~f his own life, bring her to his feet. H~e h~d remarked her devoted attention to Pierre, and upon that discovery based his plan of operation.. his first measure was to gain such an ascendancy' over Pieue as wculd render, him submissive to his tvill. With-this object in view, he induced the young man to accompany him in a trading expedition among the Indians, and from thence to New Orleans. They left that city in a- sidff on their return homewards with about.three thousand dollars each, twquired by their trade and sundry gambling speculations of Robertson.. Near the mouth of the Arkansas a young rnan.who caUed his name Martin came on board and requested a passage to New Madrid, the place of his. residence, offering to aid them in rowing. flis request was granted. On the second day after he came on board, Martin in- duced Pierre to gamble with him, at first for 'a mere trifle, and, at length for large stakes. 'The result is already anticipated. Young La- valle lost every dollar of his money, and~ was left ~ penniless beggar. The emotions of Pierre were but little ehort of freiizy. In this state of mind Robertson seized the opportunity, while Martin was at a page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] THE FIRST CONVICT. 31 30 VLAUDINE LAVALLE, OR tance on shore, to excite still higher the feelings of rage and despair that agitated the mind of young Lavalle. He expressed the greatest sorrow for his heavy loss, and told him that Martin had defrauded him out of his money by foul play, and consequently any means that could be taken to recover it were perfectly justifiable. In short, he succeeded in exciting the feelings of Pierre, till he agreed to entice Martin, who was very intemperate, to drink that night to intoxication, and when asleep from its influence, pitch him into the river, and divide the con- tents of his portmanteau between them.. Night came. Pierre plied the gambler with wine until he appeared to be in the last stages of intoxication, and sunk down by the side of the boat feigning profound sleep. At a silent motion by Robertson, young Lavalle, pale and trembling, pitched the body overboard, which appeared to sink without a struggle. Pierre now brought forward Martin's portmanteau, that they might divide its contents between them; but what was his astonishment when Robertson not only refused any share of the money, but expressed the utmost surprise and horror at the deed, declaring that he had not entertained the remotest suspicion that Lavalle really contemplated committing such a crime, or he would have prevented it even by force. It was in vain that the wretched, tortured young man protested that Robertson had aided in the affair. The latter denied it with violence, and uttered dark threats against him if he again repeated such a false- hood. Pierre saw at once tl~at he had placed himself completely in the power of Robertson, aud sought to soothe him by abject entreaty. With apparent difficulty young Lavalle obtained from him a promise that he would not reveal the story to any one living, so long as Pierre tret~ted him as a friend. This was the utmost concession which the af.. ffioted youth could obtain from one whom he knew in his heart was as guilty as he. Young Lavalle, by the refusal of Robertson to' share with him, would have the entire contents of Martin's portmanteau, which would contain not only tlw~ money won from himself, but that which previously belong- ed to the gambler. He opened the portmanteau, and was horror-struck to f1n4 that it contained only rubbish. Not a dollar ~vas there! What 'he could have done with it or when disposed of it was a subject that ex- cited their curiosity and amazement, but to Pierre it was a terrible blow. He had been enticed by Robertson to comiimit the deed he had done to regain the money of which he had been swindled. He had placed himself in the power of Robertson, and yet had recovered noth- 30 al ing. besidess this, and his dependence upon him at present for all pe.~ ~uniary supplies, there was the consciousness of guilt bearing with a mountain~ weight upon his soul. All this affair had been planned between Robertson and Martin. Robertson was to assist Martin by signs to win Pierre's money, which they divided between them. In return for this service, Martin was to feign himself drunk,.&fter privately disposing of his money, and permit himself to be throwii overboard by Pierre. He found not the slightest difficulty in gaining the shore unperceived, leaving not a doubt on the mind of young Lavalle that he had sunk to rise no more. On the night of the murder of Pierre Lavalle, Robertson had con- certed a pI~t with the latter by which Claudine would be placed in his power. This plot was providentially overheard by Claudine, who was- thus put upon her guard. Robertson, who lurked at that hour near, the house, saw her in conversation with her uncle and aunt, from whom she received an axe, which he saw her take into her sleeping apart. ment, and heard her lock and barricade the door. He knew from these circumstances that the plot was discovered, and doubted not that Pierre, who had hesitated long between"the gallows and her betrayal, had .dis.. closed the plot to his sister; and he resolved to take deadly revenge up~ on both. Returning to the outhouse occupied by Pierre, he found no difficulty in inducing him to drink immoderately, and took the precaution to drug his wine. Long before midnight his intended victim was stretched out in his bed, in a profound 'sleep. Nothing but the dread of appearing before God with the guilt of murder upon his soul had made him the submissive slave of Robertson's will. On his knees he had implored him again and again to spare his sistei~, but the monster; true to his thirst for revenge, coldly bade him choose between obedience and death on the gallows. The room which Claudine now occupied had formerly been the sleep. lug apartment of Pierre, and was thus occupied by him when Robert~. son first arrived in St. Charles. He often slept there with young La- valle', after having spent the night, to a late hour, in debauchery. One day, in the .absence of Pierre, lie accid~*itally discovered that a. short plank of the floor, directly under the bed, and concealed from oh'- sOrvation, was loose.' On examination, it appeared probable that in lay. ing the floor, a plank of suiuible length was wanting, and saw-mills at that ~early period being few and far between, the deficiency was sup- plied by putting down a short piece~ at a place where the defect would page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 32 CLAUDThTR LAVALLE, OR TE FIRST CONVICT. 33 escape notice. From some cause or other, but probably from an inten- tion to supply its place with a ph~nk of the requisite length, that piece had never been nailed to the sleep~r.. Robertson instantly resolved to turn this discovery to his own advan- cage. The house was elevated so high above the ground, that by creep. ing undet~ the floor, an entrance into the room through that aperture would be easy. The uncle and sister of Pierre had already urged him to break off all intercourse with Robertson, and the latter determined that he would avail himself of the means which the short plank afforded of gaining an easy access to Pierre as often as he pleased, without the knowledge of the family. Being skillful in the manufacture of the tools of a burglar, he soon constructed a spring that held the plank firm- ly to its place. By pressing his thumb hard upon a knob connected with the spring, under the floor, this ingenious trap-door opened with- out noise. Every thing was so adroitly managed as to present no ap.. pearance of any contrivance. On that night, when he saw that Claudine had become acquainted: with the plot which he and Pierre had devised, the trap-door, which had. long been forgotten, now occurred to his mind. He had never had any occasion to use this secret entrance, and its very existence bad passed. * from his recollection. He now resolved to employ it as the means of deadly revenge upon both the brother and ~ister. The solemn hour of midnight arrived. Stillness reigned over the scene. The whole household was sunk in profound sleep. Not a light was seen in the village, except at a single chamber, where a mother kept watch at the bed-side of her sick child. Slowly and cautiously Robertson crept under the floor of Claudine's apartment. He found the fatal spring. Rust and time had nearly tendered it immovable. I-Ic pressed 'hIs finger hard upon the knob, and at last the trap-door opened. Creeping through that aperture, he stood erect at the bed-side of his in- tended victim. The curtains of her window ~ver~ indeed, closely drawn, but the full moon rode high in the clear and cloudless heavens, render. ing every object in the room distinctly visible. Upon a chair, neatly arranged~ lay the articles of her toilet, as she had placed them. on retir.~- ing for the night. Directly over the head of her bed hung a crucifix, a~d below it an image of the Blessed Virgin, to whose guardian care she nightly committed herself and all she loved, with the most child- like confidence and affection. He gazed long and earnestly upon c~lau-~ dire, who slept, unconscious of the presence of her deadly foe. The of triumph and security with which she had surveyed her firmly. I 32 ,:barricaded door still rested, upon her lips. 11cr breathing was soft and peaceful as that of an infant pillowed upon the bosom of its mother. Taking with him the fatal axe, ltobertson descended and carefully closed the trap-door. In examining the spot' to see that no marks or traces were left that might lead to his detection, he discovered, that one of her shoes and an article of her dress had fallen through the opening. This suggested to him the idea ef employing them as evidence, against her. Taking these with him, he repaired to the out-house, and placing them near the bed, he perpetrated the foul murder of Pierre Lavalle, by cleaving his skull asunder, inflicting numerous ghastly wounds, and fi. nally severing the head entirely from the body. He then stained the handle of the axe with the blood of his victim, replaced it under the bed of Claudine, carefully fastened the trap-door, and 'then hastened from the village. He arrived at Prairie Des Sioux before his absence was discovered, or even suspected.. Such was the substance of that part of his confession which bears an immediate Connection with this story. Hardly had he finished his narration when he expired in great agony of body and mind, despairing of the mercy of God. Col. D'Iberville and his wife returned home, deeply affected with the scene they bad witnessed. Claudine sought the soJitude of her cham- ber, and throwing herself upon her knees, poured forth l~er gratitude to that Power who had shielded her in the fearful hour of peril, and in his own good time removed from her name the dark stains that rested on it. Tears flowed copiously as the scenes of other years rose up in Viv- id recollection before her. flut they were teats of gratitude, and de~ seceded upon her heart like the gentle dew-drops that evening shec~ upon the drooping flowers. The blight upon her name that had poison~ ed all her happiness was now removed. She had lived in continual fear that some accident might disclose to the world that Madam lYlber. yule, the honored, talented Madam D'Iberville, was no athe~. than the Claudine Lavalle who had been condemned to death for the mu~de* of her brother, and escaped the gallows only by the timely pardon otth9 (Thvernor. The disgrace which such a discovery would bring~ iipoii their son, a high~spirited lad of eighteen, could not be contemplated without dread. The thought would often steal over her, that her own husband, fond and devoted as he had always been, had no proof of lid' innocence but her bare word, and that in opposition to a jury of twelve men, who cm their oath declared her guilty. ~ql~ D'Ibervjlle rejoiced in this happy event even more than his wife1 page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] B4 GLAt~D~NB LAVALL~. ~To nee~led no new proof to convince him that "Sister MarieH a~ delighted in calling her, was little less than perfect. Claudine descended to the parlor, and at her request, CoL D'lbevvilh~ i~olc their son into a private apartment, and disclosed to him the early historyy of his mother. The young man was deeply affected, and, rush- ~ng into* the chamber to which his mother had retired, with his face i~athed in tears, exclaimed, "Oh mother, mother, how much I love you ~or what you have snifered," and he kissed her again and again wi& fond affection. Her cup ot happiness now seemed full, and the long $~ears ol' sorrbw she had endured were amply repaid by the joys of that hour. Her cup was destined to receive another and an exquisite drop of i.~appiness. As she descended again to the parlor, leaning on the arm bf her husband and son, a loud knocking wa& heard at the door. It was opened, and the Superipr of the Sisters of Charity, whom she had t~o lately visited, entered, and with her a venei~able ecclesiastic, appar. ~ntly bordering upon eighty years. It was the venerated priest of St.. charles, the good Father Laroche, the friend and guardian of Claudine Lavalle. He felt that his pilgrimage on earth would soon close, and he was anxious to place in the hands of Col. D'Iberville and his lady the account ofhis inanagemeiit of her property, which had so niuch increas'- ~A in value. He ardently desired to behold once more on earth the or- ~han girl whom he had so fondly cherished, and also his sister, his on- ly surviving kindred. Father Laroche had brought with him the final i~ecision of the courts in his favor, as residuary legatee of the estate of Claudine's father, to a tract of land, a Spanish gwant, which had beeom~r immensely valuable. This property was now hers. It need not be told with what emotions that venerable priest wa~ re~- i;arded by all the family of Madam D'Iberville. They entreated him o spend the remainder of his life with them, where they could have th~ happiness of paying him some small sifare o~ the immense debt of grat- tude they owed him, for his' firm, unshaken confidence in the truthful integrityy of Claudine Lavalle, when all things conspired to prove her guilt. That night, as they were about to retire, this little household,, moved )y the same impulse, threw themselves upon their knees, while thc priest offered to the IThseen Power who had shielded, the iu~enSe or gratitude. The venerable Father LarQche closed his benediction with t~his affecting quotation from Scripture: "Once was I young, who ant ~tow old; but never yet kave I seen the wicked prr~per, the righteov~i f@rsakcn." b I page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] * 474 THE TRIALS OF MAR~ ~iAYERIfOL A NARRATIYJ~ OF 1~AL 'ZVENT8~ CHAPTER L~ "DeIus~on! aN tbe we4A~ ~may be deluded, Buti~ the Iear~d; the ~lightenednobl&Varu~ The victim o~delusion?4Is~eajinot be! I'll not believe it."-.-TA~ Marqrr. '4~Ialloo*' JIalloo!'~ uttered in the loudest tpn h~vcice, instantly brought the Iittlv family ofJames Maverick to he~d~pr. the gate was the well-known SQfl of a neighbor, mounted half-broken colt, which he was fond of riding beca~ise i~ wa~ i4s ~ The animal seemed resolved, by his rearing and pitel4ng~ q~; ~ir4ic)~ ihe boy was ~ot a little prowl, togive his rider n~ opportunity o,~ pe~tQrrnis~g~ his errand.. But, at length, with many interriiptio interniii~gled with the fr~u~nt cry~of "who-a! who-a, Tecumseh," the message ~asde-~ liveFed, and the youth ~nd his steed were on their way to tEe, next neighbor's, to deliver there the same tidirtgs~ That young man was the son of ~Deacon~ flezekiah Cobb, a wori~y old fanner o~ that settlement, whose housewa~ known far ami nea~to the religious community by the expressive ru~me o~ "Pilgrirn'~, W~wert." Not 0xily preachers of the gospel, Iut proiess9re of reI~gion ~ot every stripe, found a welcome under his~ hospitable roof. T~ie i~ery ~iglft~ of his welldUled barn often r~ia4e the, yerieat "bczck~tider" devoifl. *any~ and many a church member, .~elAom suspected~ at ~home, of beiug~i~ht~ eous overmileh, has driven, bi~ ivear~horse~t~r mile& beyond a t~v-eru~ to put up for the r4ght Withthe,~Qod deacon, ~atlie~ than stay' people of the world." He~had ~ent~his son ~o acquain~1 th~ inhaJ~ita~ts of the set an~& near, tlia~t a ~Lqrmon. had arrived at ~ t1eXxi~nt~ fr ~ and ~*~iild peach~ in the school-house that night, at early candle li~it. page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 38 ~EHE MOI~MOKESS; OR, This intelligence excited the most intense interest all over the j~cp~ ulous settlement of Sixteen Mile Prairie~ for the Mormons were then comparatively few in number, and nothing known of them in that region, excel. ~ g~iw% irtde~ rith i~b~ndTred tongues, had infornI~d ~he jni1~1i~ibat 3o~ Smitht f~oundeiof t1~e sect, was regarded by his infatuated followers as a prophet-...that he pretended to hu~upas~t~o~ (golden Plates inscribed. pith Hebrew eharacte, were received by them as a Revelation, arid were printed as such~ u~ider the nanae~f ~the "~Eook of joi~zor4~ It was likewise known that these sdf~tyl~dt "IZ4te"-Day Saints" claimed ~he power of healing the~ sick, and of working various other miracles, A thousand reports were in circulation, that exhibited both their doctrines and practices in a very unfavorable light, and these ~rt~mora,~ however absurd or contradic. tory, gained implicit belief, It was a subject of wondi~r that any humau being of sane mjnd could be deluded into a~belief in Mormonism. The secret enemies of the Christjan'rellgh~n, whom a regard for their own reputation restrained from uttering thefr sentiments oj~enIy against a~i~ri; were ~f6ud~ against 'the Mormons. In assailing their cl~im~ io w~oii~it~ mirades and~ other profession~, they leveled zn~n~r tl~af bore equally hard upoti the miraclesof the Seriptiires. A 4~1~ ttul~v Pius, Morrnonism Was regarded With sorroW, not un~ I4~TI~h iA~djgrfati~i ~gaihst its leaders. ~~a~ihe1Maie of public opinidn at that ~peri~od upon the subject o~ £l~e x~ew sec4 gen~rull~r. In Sixteen Mile Praii~ie '~th~re couhi not' pi~bh~l$~ httv~e~ been 1~ound one~, ih the whole length ~a~n breadth ~ the ~ 'not have resented, as a gros~ ineul*, the bare sug- gEption tha4~i9xnight one ~day bec6nie a friend to the Monfions. '~kven ~t tins ~a~l~r periOd itt' their idsr6ry, the Lait~r-Day'~aihts were met deyei~r p6ittt with the most deadl~i hostili~y. Hundreds who shad live~I ~q~lesg' 1e~ suddefliy felt so much zeal for pure and uudetlled g~tiAi~t4hey could not~end7ure the false doctrines if the Moriz~ons, ~kf l~4ad~. iutve ~tetndnated the' whole sect. " ~tonj'~i1i jli~e ene~ni~ of this deluded sect, there could~ hardly ha& i,~ii ~u4~ 0 mere ~et~iriiii~d, ~ore unrelenting jn his oppositio~i, thaii~ines ~ lie was an intelligent, well-jnforrni~4 zimn, and~ ha~I r~4 with ~ager in(ei~est, ~vi~rj 'thing upon the subject ~i& ~bich tha r~ewspapers of ~the day . teemed. With the history of 'the ~ei~t ho' was fia#,~~ had ~onAered upon eve~y incident 0f' it,~friu*it the dise~v~r~t they t4~lde~n X~Iates down to the ~Wst, 'fea~tur~ 'wiikh5 th& ever.varying delusion tiad a~ssuriied. ' '~ TIlE TRIALS OF MARY 14AVL~RIOK. No phrenologist accustomed to the study of human cb~acte~ w~qld have doubted, for a moment, that the Leelinga of ~ ~e deeply excited upqn every ~bject that enlisted his' atten~jon. high, broad forehead and p~ornine~tly developed mexit~l org 44~ed, in' no ordinary degre.e~ firmness of~ min4, rayerenco an4 c~c.ientzous~. ness, traits Qf character so conspicuous in the e~4y. t~mr~yrs. ,~ His Jar~e p' blue eyes, fringed. with~ tong and drooping eyelashes, gaLypLQ hi~ ~oi~n~ tenance,. especially when he .was buried in silent tho~igh~, a faim s1~ada of nidaucholy. ,, "~' . ' ' ' ' :~ ''~ And ~yct, the~e manly and' eVe~n stern t~raits~ of eh~tracto~ ~veri~ '~fl uinriingled with mihler~developments. The v~rie~t strange~wott4Iiave read it .1iis'fr~nk,~pnn cotznten&uce, kindne~sa of'heart and ~i~eroseed benevolence. . '~' 'Alrn~st froirti childhood, Iike~his wife, he 'had 'beeii a church xn(unber, and' lii e~brtznent through all that period att~st0d the sincerity)d~F~ ~is profession~ Even the most unblushing scoffer paid an ixwoluntary~ tki.higc to~ James Mayerick., Judge Maverick, l~is 4tther, who betonge4t~the had held many important offices itt one oP~ the $tates, where, by iu4ustry an4 economy, be ha corn~etency. A few years pr9vi~us ~o t!le opening ot this' story1 ~ Mavericl~ had removed to Gre5e county, Illinois, and purchased &IaV~ truct.q~ land in Sixteer~ Mile. Pi~airie. He gay~' to Jam~s, hi~dd&i~', his resi4~n~qe, erected for him, dwelling ~1~omiles1~zI and az4y rrxa~ried son, ,~ quarter section, distant ~ouie to ~p1a~9e ~a pa~t o~, his f~ru~: under a-t~eat house, hi~ ~ with cultivation, Acuiventer~xising ~tn1 inLehIige~it, a~4ed hj~a~t an4 hand ~y4~is~IitA~e wife~whornb~ dev~tedly l~ved, theif andmevery ~ soon ttsmnned an ~ir of successfi4 in41~ist~ry.and rural Jz~.ppi4~ oftctt~4rewfroni the 'passing travefrr invc~I41~try Oxpress~ons ,q~ rati6rt. .~&'~1d iwighborof tlieir~ frequently;declar~d that th~, ~ tuahly ~hqr~e brighter~upon the~form, and espeojailly ~round~ie~$w4i~g of Ji~ratid ~Mii~y M~verkk~than~it did finymwhex~ els~ i~i thf 4ple ~ ~that the old maw~ had he. hee~i plWx~t, skilled iiu an~i~tsia~e~ kindly ~ffection~w{~4d 1e~ discovered %hatne~4 of Ther~ b*i~ arpiand~the. enttage qf the4V~erioks' was ~er~Jy~he. sunshine of their own hearts. I~1e 4l*~ a~ i~m~y~,4jat~ jt~ tJ~ele~s~ ha- confess~d t~aa~pq gl~ct see~riw~ ~ i4~ti4sett~a-ot Sixtee~.Mila was mere v ~ ~ 'AM alo4g its si4esdhe ~ page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] / le0 ~fliEMOfl~&ONR~S; OR, ltowet,, the Bign~jiia arid the Lonicera, had been trained by Mary to clirr~b to the very ~avps. hr ~ai'~y surnix er when the broad, bell"sha~ed bloasoiris h~xng in fes~idiii aloig ~he ~walra, aria over the windows, troops bf1ukmmin~g biids w~r& n, frorti early dawn tiJi sunset, darting from flower to ftc~we~r. '1'li& busy, batteringg feet of "Little I?4dy' ~tood still in ~peechless' ~di~nh~tion, ~s he watched the bunirning birds as they h~i~ q~dvi~rihg in air oven the blossoin~ for a momerit, and then'darted ~.Ar&y, swift as a rayof ligtxr, ~o sip the honey from so~ne othth' ~flowet. He gazed with ~rbsorbed attention upon thp bright-winged butter.Ilie~, ~nd the wild bees that 1io~t~red aroirnd, dnirikitg the fragrance of the ffov~te. ASW~h~ times the yeung rnotKer, rn~si as childlike' ~slittIe 4dyh~aiself,~Wo~xld ~ watch withabsorhing itxterest~he~var~ring~ ex~ pressing of his features, without uttering a word, or daring ~to;etir, so fea~fLd was she of brealdng~the'spelL~ Eere~re~ n~t ~freqe~tly~gt~ew in~i&aa she tht~ gaged upon h~n~ ar~d~ hei~ lip~ ti~wed% butt attez'ed ne a~M'audihleto nioi~ea~s. l~Iite brief~ switches of~ tinie wbic~i ~rr~ore serious ~diities did xxetclaibi we~e ~*sially de'Vote&h5Y hex to ornamenting their home, that she might iez~der it 'r~e~ attraeti~e to her husbax~dT ~nd iiihil&. With ~l 1~road sx~xi-~nnet u~~n l~erIWad 2'aA&li~ttIe Lady! at her side, as as~ecia1 re~ ward fo Nm fo~ bein~ ~o6d, she teridedkhe ilo*er~ arkt shrtiUs~shC haA ~1~u~ed in the ~ax'J; ~ltar~ plants, that "reqnxred~ bttt I~trle eax~e beyond ~t~I4, ~4~eri~igj o~~xi~iepred 4her windows xxi summer, txi~d~in Ihe~coId. ~eit4e~s aea~sojn of winter afforded an air of che rii~sto thti~iirlor: Aside frorri her own lov~e of the beautiful, she ha4 siill~a~iibth6r ~obj~et. She was desirous that her child, with the earliest dawn of aWakening inilid, should acq*xire h~io~ef~r the ~cheap plea~u*res ~hich ixature has p~ui'eA knit *ith-s~i liberul~d hind to all who knoxir the lue~ofr1ier rich &ia~suire~s. She ~believed that the youth whelan derive erijoyx*nt from theiY~autifu1 ax~d~ the 'sublime of naturee; whether se~en ixxrl*i*~xshirig totien~*,' the tiiwerih~ol~ff,: the gifted stornii~loud, thft lofty 6ak whose broa~tofrhes~bid d~flanee t~ the temjne~xts of maxiy a ~etitiury~the ~ide sweep of a western ~l*irie; ~or the )aumlAe fl6weT; had acquired net only a x.ource of unfaiiflg. exij~yxile~xt, bxk also~no~ rrxeaw saf~uard of virt~i~ec She wished to render all the early and most hallowed~ ~recoilec~. iorisAf-hM childhood, in aft~ur ~ycars~ endeariiig~mezrtories of his mother and his home. W~ tr~st~thM~our~readens, eheul4 We le ~o tu~ate~ ~s t~ Mire any, will pazdon u~for4*ellil~g Utuslong and mina ~t*pen tMclistaoter of M~a MaVerick, for'~we- are 'deseribiig a teal pex~aa~e, tiod xiot~n TrE2 ThrAL3 O~ MARY MAV~K[QK. 41 imaginary being. At the~ risk of being tedious~ ~!fi shall attempt to lay her character open to the reader, that he may knowfuIly the heart of the litde womaxi who is doome& xo~xneet the buffeting oi the storm. Let it n~ot be imagined that Sixteen Mile Prak~s so nearly resembled Paradise, that the ttmbition of Mary l~'X ver$ck$#~o render her .hoxn~ at. ttactive excited no envy, malice, or ili'wilL T~ s~rne of her neighbors, and especially of her Own seX, the ~hrubbery and flowers of ~he litt~o wOman were really gall r~d worm.wood. Unkind remarks upon the uhje~t ~re not urtfrequently made to Mary herself bun more fre~ quently they reached her ear through the ofiicio~s zeal of some visitor, who professed to be the defender of the abused Jittle WQiD&fl, '~'hese reports produced but a slight and momentary impression. upon the mind of Mrs. Maverick, wh~ listened to thorn With n smile, an4 not un frequently, when anything rixore than usually spiteful was ur~re4, burst into a mery laugh, and in tem min~xtes forgot all about it. It was far otherwise with her husband. He felt these~carpings of envy and malive more deeply than he was willing to confess~ and it sometimes required all her ~oothirj influence, which she knew well how to exert, to induce him to refrain from openly expressing his resentment to her detractors. One evening a neighboring lady called upon them, at a time when Mrs. l~averick chanced to be watering a large and beautiful moss rose, whose' numerous bi us filled the whole room with their fragrance. "Is not that beai.uifnl, Mrs. Jones?" ex&lairned the delighted husband to their visitor, pointing to the rose. The walk of that lady through the yard, between rows of shrubs and flowers, had already excited her ilb hurnor~ which instantly broke forth at the rexn~rlt of the gratified hns~. band. "Oh yes," she exclaimed, "beautiful, no doubt; but anybody can have just suchjf they choose. I ~ouM plant shrubbery just a~well as your wife, Mr. Mtiverick, but I have something else to dq. Mei.y finds time every. dny to read, teach her bay, tend flowers, and paint these pictures that hang up here on the wall; but u~hile she is clang ti~ia I am making bitter and cheese, risixig my needle, or ~t~endizig to my work." This broad and undisguised insinuation that Mary neglected her household duties for these mnu~eni~nts~ was rather more ~ha~ the patience of her husband, ccril4 bear. It was the drop to xrn~tclx tli& made the cup overflow. Maverick instantly sprang freta his peat, aa~d~ spitee of i~i~ look of entreaty from his Wife, bowing with mock defer- ence and humiJity to Mrs. Jones, begged her toa~omp~y )4u~ ~ixd Mary. He led their visitor int~ &liefr little dairy~ wheto eveiyt~iing waa~ perfectly neat rind in ~r~er, ~n4 showed Mrs. Jones the roWs ~f rich page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] 4L~' ~ M MONESS; OT~, cheesfthat adorned th&' shelires~. lie then conducted her to the cellar, xvhere, in a COQI p~6e~ jars of butter:were packed, yell6w as gold. On their return to ~ ~aAor ~ a~'rerick ~reniarked: ~' I do not know howjnifeh sewing you ~have ~do~ie this year~ Mi~s. Jones, but Mary has irot~ dnly done ox~r~pWW ~buft paid~ With her needle, for all the groceries we~havo' used."' The~rieighboi~, who could; find no time to read~ teach ii' i~hild6r'Water'a flower, confessed that~ Mary in a4ditio~i to all these; lia~eoiniu1i~h'ed much more than she had' doh~, ' and' more than she xvoh1d~have belieu~ed it possible for any. worhan to ~ '.f" I will tell y~ni iii6 s&i&t oP all that Mrs. Jone~ if you wilt be quite sui'e not to tepea~ it ~ aiiy en&~ Thefi leaning his head toward 'tli~ lad~f, as IC about to r~eid iu~n important secret, Maverick 'whispered; ~A the trrith is; Mrs. J6n~s~ th&t Mary is a tvitch."' We Aiai~e ~h'~ady 'informed our readers th~t Maverick was deadW lio~ti1~ to the Mormons. Not th~t he would pe'rsecutb or invade the rh~s &P any sect; but was violently opposed 'to' giving them any en- ~ourage~tient whatever. Joe' Smith lie c~ld nev~r hear"named without uttering' an expre~si6n of deep indignation. The newspapers inforrn~d ldn~'±h~t coiivert~ were inakin~ by scoi'6~ '~n& th~tr too, from orthodox :1ur~h. Men whom he had known fr'ofii Thikihood at the Ea~t~-had knpWn~ ~t the van-guard of the sacranie~i~l host; had fallen into the snare of"Joe Smith, sold acc~mu1ated byalifeof t6il'~an4 p~'xvatuons, and taken up their ha ~~ith the Latter-Day Saints. l~I~ ~averuck, thoui~h decidediy~6jp6sed to"' the' piogress of M~oi~- ~iionfsm by no means shared i'ii ih& ~rindi6tiv~ feelings' of hei husband agauns't that sect. Th~r'~ was'toomnch~4' 'gentleness and o'oo'dness in ILeT h~t't6'fihd 'roo5'for such emotions, even ften against the vilest of th~ h~5an uLce She h~d 6~t~iuitri~d ~o so th'e"asperitj of her husbands f~&iiu~s t6vraid die Moi'moh~s' buf in ruin. The untelligen~d~ that~ ~ Mormon ~preacher' had aQtually come to that s~ttierhent~ to puopag~at~e't1;eh~ perriki6us db"ctrine~ arnoig the inhabitants ~fSixteen Mite i~~'ra~irie, ~ idterly ~stou~idirig~4 It 'caine as..un~~~ect- earthquudt~ for a~ &'clap 6ff' thunder 'iii a, cIoi~idIps~ day, or 'an ~diy~ar~a ~un1~~V&1 token~ had ann~u~iced. We shall not a'tiern~t~Io~ & efi~b~ the hi~gimti&h with 'w1~ich ~Thverick heard this ~ 'Gah~aXiythxn~ be' ;done' to preVent this caVa~nity, nd~ '~ itTh~N~ome 'to"oui~ '~ ery doors ?'~' wa'~ bis~ first inqvtiry,' made ih'h~f6~~ niWd~ Are ~aa the vower,' a~ on'O' of' (he S9hQol Difectors, &fe~lVt~ it~ SPt1~ sdic~$I boux'~e to thO' Moirnon pi~eabh~r~ lint tb~t &tut~e '~fa~repugnatw't4 hia feelings, as a 'violation" of 'th& piin~ipies of THE TRIALS OF MARY MAVflJUCI~ '43 religious toleration. liesides, if thus denied the use of'the school house, public sympathy would instantly be awakened in behalf 6f 'the preacher, and a dozen houses at on6e be thrown open to him,, giving to MormonV ism a teti-fold greater influence, than it would otherwise have. The sun was hardly an hour high, and he ha:d rip time to go over the settlement and try to persuade' the people not to attend the preaching, even if such a course promised success~ At~ any ~rate, he could insure the abseiice of one tatnily. His seat and that of his wife sI'. ould be vacant, and thus set a silent, but most impressive 'seal upon the attendance 'of all who were present-a' condemnation which would haire a decided influence against Mormonism.' Such was hi~ resolve~ in the absence of 'all other means of warding off the threatened calamity. Few, perhaps, would have anticipated any opposition to this arrange- ment from the gentle Mary~ lint oppose it she 'did.' She had felt no desire to attend ~he meeting; but the moment her 'husband, in an arbi~ trar~r 'mann~r~ resolved, without consulting her at all, that she should stay at home, an' ardent desire to hear the Mormon 'took possession of her heart. She attempted to reason him out of' his exclusion, but in vain. Though yielding as the sensitive plant at 'the' voice of ~kindness, the little woman could be firm and immovable as the Rock of Gibraltar, when her rights were disreg'.arded, and her feelings touched by a rude hand. On such an occasion an instantaneous change came over her ~vhole being. She uttered no complaints, no reproaches, but her Whole soul seemed to retire within itself.- We cannot determine what course either of them would have pursued, or which yielded, for just at this moment a new actor in the scene en- tered, and changed the entire current of passing events. This was no other than Frank Maverick, the youngest and favorite brother, a warm-hearted, intelligent youth of seventeen, who carried sunshine with him wherever he went, and was every 'where a welcum& guest; Filled with excitement at the novelty of hearing a follower of Joe' Smith, and eht'ed with the anticipation of seeing a crowd of people atthe meeting, he cri~d' 'Out before lie crossed his brother's threshold, "get ready, Sist& 'Mary; get ready to go' and hear a sermon out 'of the 'Gel-' den Plafes; '~rud' be sure 'that you put on your best bib and tucker, and ~vbat is 'hett&r 'yet,. pour' brighie~t smilts~~:rnind, your very brights~ srniiles~-for you 'are ~6ing ~o have o beau' wait "upon you to-ni~ht that 'is' a bean, ahd n6tiun old fellow t~venty-six yearu old', like brotl~er Jam6~' there. 'Mother," ~h5' always thinks of everythiri~ u~nii always'just at 43 page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] 44 TRE 'MORMOYI~S3; OR, THE TRALS OP MA1~Y MAVERICK. right time, sild she knew that y(iur husband dould not be~ co~ixed te hty down his hatred of Morruonism long enough ta hear, ent~ preach, and so she sent your very humble servant, Mr. Francis Marion Maverick, usually named, for the sake of brevity, Frank, so that your ladyship should have no excuse for staying at home, when she and everybody. else and everybody else's wife and childi~en are &ll' sure to be there. But, sister Mary," said the young man, gazing around with admiration~ "how beautiful your flowers have grown. If ever 1 look Out for a wife, I mean to try to find one just like you, and the very flr~t question I intend to ask her is, whether she is fond of flowers.". "Ah~ brother Frank!" replied Mary with an arch smile, "I half suspect that you have just come from taking a lesson on flowers from pretty Luey Mills, and that she gave you the ruse you wear so jauntily in the button-hole of your ve~t, just over your heart." The young man blushed deeply at his shrewd guess of sister Mary, but laughed aloud, and, to conceal his consciousness that she had hit the very truth, lie seized little Eddy, who had run in- from the garden at the welcome sound of "Un~le Frank's" voice, and s~vinging the chuid over his shoulder, trotted out of the house with Eddy upon his back. CHAPTER IL, And must I lo~ve thee?-leave those loving eyes, Whose bsanss to me are like the sun to flowers, Theonly joys that in 'my bosom rise, Bi~tding to bloom ~xpon life's desert hours? Ieave thee, and wander to some desert shore, Where thy young form can glad my eyes no n~ore?" Jcssnna ~e~1Iie. We have given the reader a short chapter, that he might pause £~r a mcxnent over the scenes we have depicted, before he proceeded to others of mare thrilling interest~ We ~vili now proceed, gentle reader. It was speedily settled that Frank, who would stay all night 'at the house of his brother, should attend Mary to the meeting. James still persevered ikl 'his obstinate determination 'to remain at home with little Eddy. This arrangement instantly brought a cloud over the sunny features of the child, who would thus lose the opportunity of going with his mother and uncle Frank. But his father turned all these sorrows into joy by promising to show him the moon and stars in the magic lantern. "Oh yes~" cried the now delighted boy, clapping b.is hands in 45' high glee, ~'O~m yes, father, and the M~kican i&iseAi~ap, t&or" Eddy, axA 'the Mexican mouse tra~t~6," Was the r&pty.', Night, ca,9~qnd Frank Ma.veric4f, prouJ o~ sist~ ~ and ilWa~vp happy.t~ be ~ attendant, 4e~a~rtod, with the little WQrklari upon ~iis ann. Har4Iy had the, sound of- the' gate cloAng behind ~iem i~acIie~ the ears of the Impatient Eddywhen lie claimed the pe~formi~nce o. his rather's promise to show hini time moon, -stars, an4 th~ ~t trap. - exicanf-19u3e 4 ,~ Some months prevu~us1y, a young man came to tl~e s~tU~mexflto d&- liver ~ c~o~urse of astronomical lectures. ~ othor appara~us~ lie klI~d a rnagicAantern, by means of 'which he exl~ibited to~tli~ ~ 'J ~' rna~r4hed view of a map of~the moon and various, phenomena of the heayenly bodies., At the o~e of ~achIeotare h~ iii~d the ~ui enilo portion of his~ ~mdi~nce by Ex~9bitingto tile! severimi liyhi rous ~ict~ires, si~d among the rest, piie iyhi~l* ~ ~ "tfleiexmcan~mou~s trap," which convulsed the whole a~di~~c~ Wit laug~t~r~ This yout~g man was taken sick, and Xor a I9ngt~me his imfe was despaired of. During the long perio4 of his illness, he Nas~a~ w~heic~use of young Maverick, and received from Itirti sind Mary every attenti~~ ii~ the po~ye~of kia~lness to bestow. When he became, convalescent,: ~tnd ~s ab~ut-~to depart, the f~niily ~wou1d receive no. compensation for, 4he '/tizrxe. ~ai.id expense which~ t~hey bid so freely bestowed, Mr. Mav~rick ~tlrily ret~sarkiug to the 'invalid, that it was quite enough for lihn to suffer the pain of. si~kpe~, without iiaving~to pay for it. Having resolved t& abandon lecturing and engage ifl other pur~uits, and' knowing bow please& little' Eddy bad beetUwiththe pictures of t~ie magic hn~tern, he ~presented. thet in~r'lxnent arid the, acoompany~g drawings to the child, as a testimonial of gratitude to th~t pa~-en~s', iyJ~eh he knew wouhi. be doubly ~eccejnable when be~towe4 ~mpon ~ei,4i~ld~ Oi~ the~ night oi the ~Mortno~ ~preaohing~ Mr. Maverick,*ith~Eddy for- his sole atidieimce, exhibited -aff the Yiews~in the c~llectien of: thate lecturer. When 1it~ threW the n~ifledAmage.of~the moon, the~other plane~an4~the fixed ~ta~s,-in ~uede~al8r,, upon the white 'waihiaf ~ darkened r~, he expl*ii*ed~ *6 the hild, in simpl~ and ~fainilikrr4dn~ gm~age, 'th~Anun6bse ~i~4z ~t~#~k~I th~e hea~enly-b6dies4 AsJitti~, Eddy I ei~~h1s ~ ~ dVO~ ~w ~Aid~deep thought~carn~ over'hi~ e~slA, tU~e~ ~t~ii~ ltis~iiead ujioni liii U*laada, ~ tM~4fis ~a~thei~1iad I~ol~ti uTifolding~ ~Blit' Eddy was a child, and it was natural that hhofpiett~r~ ~1~ss A page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] T*Z~ MQ@N~&; 911) sefl~~US cast. In, this wish h~e was f~41y gratified, ~ii~ the evening was one of rare enjoyniei4. to the h~ppy cl~jld. After havjn~ ~aughe~ ~nd clapped ~his litt1e.~hands at the tenth exhibit i which t~e iiidiilgent ta~ther gaV& 1~im of the Mexican moii±s& trap, h~ b~am~ t$red, ~Ver~ o~ pleasure and iiot a 1~ttle l~p~r~ '~After listeningg to the acci~sio~n'ted iweniti~ prayer of his 'child, Mi~Maverh~k jut hirn't~ bed aiid ~ £ddy~s %st aslep~ Threrything In and around the house was now wrapped' in'silehce and rej~se. Not t~ sound was heard but the ticking of a high, old~ ~ashiint 4ilo6k, as its long periduluni swtrng ~trorn side to side, madc- in~ with its measured sweep the flight of 'tithe.' It was an hour well ~iaki~lated to c~iWforth. 'the m~mory~of flie Past, an& aWaten tbe hal- lQWe~CmOt4)flS of the sot& I~e thought of ~hi~ abseiit wife.~ J~very. tsr the room p*essof her industry and affection. Whai ~re the had made his h6riie s~ happy? gentle: 'being'who Wifluiher 4affectiori, he could bid' adver~Aty. But had he always repaid her devoted~ess with th~ gentlepess so tii~hiy xz~erii~d? 'His own acts an4 bearing toward her passedd in review before 'his mind, and he resolved that if~ in a~ny Th~tan&e he had been harsh or i~nkind in W6rd or' l~k, he 'would be more}ust t~ her in l4uture. T1I~ eheerftil voices ~of = his ~vife and Franlc, just' r~ett&r~d in ihigh glee from the 'tneeting, were now heard." Tki~ 'crowd of people parent, the novelty of the occasion arM the ~kiisureof 'n ~eveiiing'walk, all ten4ed to enliven their 4itit~ "Welk Mary,~ I ~rn ~glad ~t6 ~e you b&clt zigain," was the sahzt~ti6n of~the husb~d,=in the ~r~ost kirid~ apd~ cheerful ton~~ his voice. "How many peo~Ie 'were' the~e?-~a ~o~se~'ft~dl, I hire~ sat. A~id tvhatAffltl the old fellow to ~ay foP hisn~eJi1" At~the latter inquiry~ beth Frank and Mary~ brirstiifloa heartyisusgiP HOld feltQv~ ~ai&~he~ "why~ h~ is not ~ year older thaik tWent a, i~ he is even=s~'oldaa ~that, ~nd lie is~qtxite polished in his r4rXiriera~ too,~a4d doean6t.Iook at all ~s I ezpe~ete4a M~r~noz~ would~ ~yl4i~ 1l~$~~' for~&tlist you will seeThiht Lor y9nr$~Jf' tp,~rowAo~h~ gq~g~to caibliere in the ne~nin~ \~ra~Vnhl)~ where'heuis taygPn4ueed him afterAthe services rWe~e 4ver~, t9 inpst of 4Ji0 =~4ie~ 8~n4 ,~and when~ heAi~ard my ~n re~:he#i4 ~ w~ t~t9te~ ~&I3~ )~pws~me yea*s~ ~agoirnd 'wouki l~ ~t~4 t~e~ y~p~ri. ~e4~Q~4~ 4~ 40 lesa ~thair"irivite" hi to3c0rn~ ~ y~l41 W . woald~ be ~ia Jerishe $hut (*~3~j t." '~pj~x 44~ you~lw~y.~e~ A ~ ~rty4iad ~ wuint *~rmn~n ~4~r stwA ~ THH TIIrALS O?~'MA1L~ MAVERICK. $ While this eonversiiti6zi was going on, M~'ary bad taken off her lonnet and'~hawI; then a~eppi~g lightly to the bed..side~ of little '~ddy, and gazing for a rn6ment~ upin the bright Vialon of her child in the s(~e~t' and peaceful 'sleep of itunocence, she siooped down' and inprir~toll~ warm' kiss 'upon his for~ehead~ '~ The '~hifd' did not awake, but it ~eern~d,' as 'if even in sleej he linei# the "fond kiss 'of his'mothdr's lips, tor at their light tot*ch a happy mile played oVer his features. Neither Mary nor Fiauk could reeolle4 the ~r~a~her's n~nne, as it was so uncomuton. Maverick, after puzzliuuk his brain f&r to nopurp&e, in' ~onjectu~rin~ ~ho among ~ h a 'long' ti~ue the Mormon reachedr could possibly be is former acquaifl~ances abandoned the attempt a&h6pe. less. "But what didi be preach about? What di4 he, say? Did lie' take hfs text £roi~n the Book of Morniori ?" were the inquiries he ad. dressed to' his young brother.' "the tert ?'~' replied Fi~ank, with mn~ embarrassment; ~ the text? Really, I disremember all 'about it. Ah I recollect 'now. He. had Deacon ~otb's big bible~, and read 'his text from about the middle ~f it, so all was right of course." '~ Well, wefl, Frankk,~ replied his 'brother with~ loud laugh; uwt a little u~4~at his utter inattention"to the aernion, "you are 'reniarkably intelllgeri~"' "Oh, you 'itrust not expect brother Frank, or an~f one else, reph~d Mary,' "to be intelligent,, as you call ,it, upon every stubje~t Wyou were to question him upon some other subject, Lucy Milis bonnettor in$tmrrnce, I do' assure you he, 'could 'tell you all about it, for I saw %us eyes in that direction, even iiu~the most eloquent j~ait' 'of tile sermOn A laugh foll~~ed, in which ~iank joined as heartily as tb~e' other. '~~ut when: her husbaiud qu~stioned' her, about the text, mid ~h'&~u2bj~ci 4ih0' d~se~se, Mary wtts found 'to have been quite as'iflutVentkve a~ F~ttkrk and die 1au~h npw. turned upon her. ' The' fa4ly soon atter retired to rest, and all was still. l3ut Jazne~ ~[averiel~ found 'it jmposaible=fo~Khim to sleep. His ih6u~hts ware to9 busy M repose. Re could not banish the Mormon~ ±~rom Ho reasoned with hih~nself that the visit of the Preacher on the occ~si~ was auafl'air' bf no ~oixse4aeixce~whatevee, auid yet his tilind ~ turb&ni'tlmtii~poiixt~' Nnthhlg~ indeed, eortld"he easier than ~ioriijA~ ~ reftite #ery argumehtitlat~ couki be ~u~&uced in favoiof ~ornni~isrri~ A. cli*kIk&u1~1 e~poee twi4m4nf the Goldexi i'lateej ~ th~ ~ ~ t~tse freed froiu'thie ~i~ttre ~hiaw,~ 1i~" SinitW'hltd ~aven arnitnd~him "G~6dio the ~tmg ~ page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] THE TRIALS OF' MARY MA'VR1tICK. the design. Wliy:tl~en should it thus ,disturh him? He would drive ,it from his thoughtsr. an4. address :himself tt~ ~sleep. ~3ut 41 th'e~ etfcirt~ were. in vain.' Sleep would no~ visit; 'his pillow. Hours at length Went by since tlze family. retired to rest., and i~ was long past 'midx~jght. He could hear the low, soft breathing of his wi~e,~ and tl~e still gentler sound of his child,, and again did he resolutely attempt te divert hi~ mind from. 4me theni~ that.so harassed and disturbed hirn~ .Cas~rahly~ turning his eye toward the window, a single bright star was visible through the folds' of the curtain.,. H~' would bend all his thoughts uPon that star, for any theme jw~s better t,~s~n Mormonism. In a moment more a cloud veiled t~he~ star, and shut it out £io~rm' his vision.' At last, sleep, so long and earnestly, sought; visited his piir9w,~t his slumb&i' was disturbed by frightful dreams.. He s~emned in hi.s'sleeji to: ~ low, mournful~sounds, that came sjghin.g upon the~ night air, and, s~eme4 borne from a great distatice.' 'Their tone was ~ol~t and melancholy as" the. dirge which tlie~ Apget of the. Covenant 'is sujiposed by' sdm'e to" wail overa 'lost soul.' ' ' ' 'C~uld this, be a pres.ent~memit 'of approaching evil, warning s~ra him from the invisible wo4d~that woes wete at h~d? We c~n kn~r l~n. little either of th ' cy.inthq, affairs 'of ' ~ power. of di~einbodied ~irits, or their agen mortaJ~. We do know, however, that the globe we and the uiyrinids of' wo~1ds posted. like centinelson ~,he,~onfines of~ jn~ finiI~spa~e., .were ma~le, and all 'their rnotio~is yet '~e~gov.eyned byan invisible .spult. Revelation, t~acEes us that hosts or,. invisible sp~s tak~ ~ 4eep interest iwour happiness, while hosts o~ fallen ang~Js ever employ thei~,.wiJe~ to lure mankind tQ ruin~ May it not be true, the~, as~ th9.e~riy, Fathers;of the Church beI~ev~ed and taught, that a dian Angel hovers, unseen, around- the, ~?94 a~4 the true, st~nAin~ nightly at eir..,~illows,,and giving them mysterious intimations of jhe near apV~ch ~t trials~ Jan~er and woe?' But we have penefrat'~e~l alrea4~ ~ tar, perhaps, jilto' the dimly' lighted regions of coiij&c(ure. an4 '4 t~i~r resum~e 'the' na~xation 'Wp~'s~in7~' ~yeut~ Th~ ~o~ning came, anh .contrary, to his usa~ol custom of, rising wi~ the 4~rn, Mr~ yerick~s~il~ -sle~pt. I~is wif~, suspecting that ~ had passel a restless z~jght, ~iotyiily avoided waking him, ls~t 4elayd lAer breakfast beyond the u~naI~hou~~ an4 ealledjiu~ only, ,w~iep,~she could, delay no li~#ga~r, ~tl~qt~ ~fear ofz4keir ezpeete4 vi~itor g~hhp in; bed. Heaiose~a,4d~ pa1e~,~* ahut y~tI~ ~4s ae~u~ye4fiovv of sVinIt~ . ~ 4w ~ t~xie~ef l)~. Iov~,lie~t'thai~ spr4r~g w*~ Ioxth in: thi~ ~g~ni4, ~ ~ si~n . .~uring .a~ IiomI~ of ligl~t '.ur~lm~.~ verdant prairie. The air was soft' and bland. Not a cloud stalited'. the deep blue vault of ~Heaven. Tile mocking birds, whose nests were in the trees and shrubbery of the yard, were pouring forth'matiy~t wi1d~ trill, and imitating in turn the song of every bird ~f 'the forest, ~~fi$d, or grove. The feelings of Maverick 'were in unison with the scenery around him. The dark, d5ep, mysterious for~1~odings of" the previous nigh& had ailvanished. His long hours of sleepless excitement were remem~ bered witfi astonishment and mortification at his owt~ weakness of mind~ The approaching 'visit of the Mormon was now regarded in 'it~ tine ght, as an affair, indeed, of no earthly consequence, one way' or the' other-a very trifiing, unimportant ~vent. He c6uld hardly believe it possible that he could have given it a moment's attention. After 'breakfast, Mr. Mav~'rick occupied himself with' labors in sight of the house, in momentary expectation of the arrival of "the preacher. Hour after houi' rolled by, and noon came, but no visitor. "He had - promised to call early in the morning, and th.~y now concluded that he had abandoned the intention of visiting them, and 'gon~ sortie live miles distant 5 the road towards Alton to the place at which he had appointed to preach that night. They were' congratulating themselves, ~oon"aftei~: dinner, that they bad fortunately escaped an interview s'o uhwelc&ie, when s~iddenly and unexpectedly a stranger entered th~ opeii "door. For an instant Maverick gazed upon him with speechless surprise, then,' uttering' the exclamation, "Wk~,! .M~'. Wilmer."' sprang from his meat, seized the hand of the stranger, and shook it with the nio~t' cordial' g~'at- ification.' He was in the act ~f' introducing the new-c6mer to his" Wife, when he learned, to his o\verwh~hi'ik~ astonishment, that this Wa's no other than the Morqion preacher wjio had lisid 'f~rth to" the~ ~p~6~le' of the settlement the night beforee~ at the schoolhouse. Among al hi~iiu.' merous conjectures about the identity' of the preacher~ with any of his old acquaintances, the thought had not once struck him d~ P6s~ibleihat Mr. Wihner, of all others, could be deluded pinto ~'belief"'~ Moi~rnoriism. Soon after their arrival in Illinois, and their settlement ih~ $ixte&n Mile Prairie, James Maverick ~%und it necessary to ~take~ 'a ~jiurii~y 'of a hundred and twenty A~iles, to~the county seat of 'oiie t~P~E~ ecittntie~ of' this 'State, lying on th~ W~b~rsh River. An' dncle~Aii~A~ &ie~f the Eastern States had a clAiM"'toa iamge ~ 1~&1 in" that 'Tegion and eixiployed ~Jan~s' t~visit th~ceWsid~b~4±~ aminiii~ ~the recorded of th&i~ou~y~ .si~Asixi'ilie 'V~lidit1yf his 4i~I~.- '~ The'regiorl through whicl Mi~v~ick~hi~d ~&tef ~ae ~tiil~thfrdV" 6 page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] 50. M~1~j ~. ir.ihiM~&? an4 p9rgons of, j4 re~4~ n more1 "h i4'indj~a$~. op1y~ by. ~ ~ h~ar4W 4is~er~dbla~on tb,~ prairies, a~d i~i ti~e~tig~be~ed k~nd by here n~VtL~~re a~"kIq~ed fre&" Qn arriving at tbw"]$rai~ch" of the Wabash, upon the. opp9site side, of which the town he went to visit was situated, Maverick found. that ~ wl4c~i in ~tbe dry, season is~a mere nil, swollen iutoa~torr~nt by. the 101kg, coittinued and: heavy rain~. With th~ utmost dit~lculty he compelled. hiw high'spi4e4. horse to g~ onto the bridge. Mlie did so, Maverick discovered a. man stat~ding, on th~ opposite -shore, nest to the town, wh9. called to him with violent. geeticulations, flut the loud roar of the bo~rping w~ten~, and. the snorting of his frightened horse, prevezi. ted .h~ from unde~s~~cling a word the man .utter.4~ He had proceeded aesree- tw~-thii~d~ of: the .distanc~. across, when lie. perceived that the bridge. wa~ in motion. A large floating. tree, had been htinled with all:tbe force of the current against the end of the bridge he had just passed over, a~4. it. was slowly: whe~lipg,. into the streams ~Iot an jnstaz4 mnst -be. lost, Life and; death hung, in equal poi~e~ suspe~4ed- upon the decision of a moment, He mnst cross. that b~dg.~ before. the en4 neiL to had.parted from the bank, or be the toWn, p~eczpitsted,, horse and rider, into tha raging torrent, where npthing that breathed cpuld :live a moment. Maverick . p~ux~ge4 his.. spursup. to their vowels, into the sides .of his home1 whjch rushed ~otwa~d asif ful4y. cons~ious of. the. peril. The~ end. of~ the bridge had, broken away, and. was already ~everal~feet from the bank when~ they arrived. horse collected all, his powerss in one mighty effort, and gave a spring. He. leaped the yawning chasm and reached the shore. Both were saved~ Th4o.e. and suddennesa of the shock threw Ma.verickwith violence to the; earth1 anti the first thing of which he was consciou~,,he found him~ self 1~ngin bed itt'~,.na~tly furnished chambers The man who had vall~d tp him from th9.shore stoo& near him, and .at his side a gentleman wh9~appale4 ~ phy~ieian. ~w~.tely~ Mr. Maverick hatibroken no bones, nor re~eiye4An.y. ser~9i~, injiwyby hisialL. His kind, hosts insisted upon h~s remaining their Rtl~eIzig~, Ws~ters had sub i&~d. sWlleiently. to rendp the, bni4~]s~ e fqrd~bl~, This ,h~~pitsble offer ,was, gratefully ac* cep~ed,~nd~ ~av ckr $ned.there nea4y~two weeks, dining~ which, he ~ve&th~Jd ezflieu~ 9thatj#lnhly, . , .- ~ shsred~w~,1is p~h~ tb~p4~ W~r, ~ before; hip, in ~h~ depadod vIz~r~e~er.o~a Mw~rznon~preaeher~ What TH?~ Tl~I&LS 4?A~r~4Vkaxcx. pects, since Maverick saw him last! At the porind ~f ~ti&'sifrst at~qualrlt&1tMle -with him,, Mr. Wihrter ~was 4eci~edly ~dte ~nwet-p~ilar ma~r -in.th&t b~ainty, held:the~O1~ie~ bf Clerk of ~he UircultCtitml to her e 1oyz~us that yielded him a large income, and~was'on the high read .to dist1zu~tion and W~akh. Aad this Was the iwi~~ -Who preached 'the night ~~#e~ions, in'the eettl it~t-SiZte~n Mile Prairie. - 'The astoni'shtmezn of MIet?~erkk tvas overwhelming. Could it-'be possible ~that' 'Wilmer had been so' iiisamre'as ~to fall l~to the' deht.~inaf J~e 'Smith, -and make eliipwreck of all his brilliant pros~rects? He at length made some inquiries about the health of Mrs. Wilder and Akeir daughter. At 'the umezttiotx of ;thefr names, tile 'whole --eountmiance of Wilnier underwent aii-instantane'ous 'change, and the q~iv~er'of: his lip betrayed n* ~nguieh ~f :mind which :he~strotein vain4o'cor~ceal. :Mu. tening his ezaotktneIie. calnily repliedthat:his f~zther4n4aw 'ln~d taken them from him ecen rafter he beCame a Monmioii; -his-wife having re- fused -to -live with him unless 'he - would' ;renounCe - that 'sect~ ~hd;her father-was iv'~rsuing measures to .Iirocure former adiv~.rce. 4~e~had made over alihis-preperty to his~vtife and olilId. "I ~aen-now," ~dded he, "literally- -a '1to~neleas 'wanderer, without -a ~lace where~to lay .my hefid; ~b~n -I trust that ~these light ~afffioti~ns, *hl4ih are bat~fer a.nzm~nt~ will work eatfer me-a .far:more~'e~eeeding~and. eternal weight 4f~glOry.'i' - Mttve~ink m~d his wife listened 'with ileep interest to 'this r~ldtl6n~ Both 'Were affe~red, but'dz~ir emotions 'were widely diife~eut. ~M'~Y~r. ick thon~ht tow nolily'he'would repaythe hos~it~Iity'$f :ib~t~ily, by re~toririg~VViltn~r again to them, cured of his'wilddelusicbn. '~e'dMxbted not ihat lie couTd open 'his eyes to the 'full absurdity ~of tziOziiexti, and he'won~d -set about the work wick as'little delay"as-'po~sible. Mary, on - tire contrary, felt no ambition for making prosel~ites to 'any ~reed, but fdt'inlier 'secret 'heart that Wilmer's wife waa'r~4ally ituWorcily Sf-a single 'regret, and cotiklaeve9have truly hived'her husband; er'~neitbnld have clung to him but the closer, the more the rest of the WOrld Cast him o~tf. - - The 'Wtorrnon had irppninted to~preach that night -five miles 'eeuth of~ Maverick's, and having no means of reaching the'place- eejn'-by '*51k.. irig, ~Maverlek ~conoIttd'ed to hazwe~& uy~his ho±see,'urid:Mke ~hha thCre in his wagon. !The ~preacIter himself ~rojuoreturi~ipg ~ prea4g~eev'#ral knightte ~tOre in 4hat 'settlement. t~let~tzz~ as vthis arrangemen*v was4e the'Ma~erieka, they ~oIt t sel'ee~c~mipeMe&by a sense of gncinale, and even ~eonrmon ~ivllity to~tlmeir 'guesr, to rn~ke 'no page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 52 Tli~ MO~MON~55; "OB, objections. Had it been otherwise, Maverick would.have made a de.. cided effort W prevent it. ~No attempt was made that afternoon to. discuss the doctyines of the Mormon ,~creed, but many preliminary inquiries about the sect, and of their general character, were made. After tea, Maverick 'and Wiliner set out for the place of meeting. . It was dark when th.ey arrived. ~'The candles were already 'lighted up. A crowd bad' collected.. On theout. side. of the hou~e, groups of men and full-grown boys were, clustered, discussing in a loud tone the subject of the meeting. The .ru4e, coarse jokes uttered against the Mormons were, received with boisterous ap- plause. The preacher passed through the crowd at the door, entered ~the house, and took his seat at a desk on the opposite side of~ the room. Giving .no heed to the, loud whispering and tittePrig, he commenced by singing a hymn, after which he opened the Bikle,~and read~the tenth chapter of Luke. To 'the disappointment 'of no small 'number, who caine there for sport, instead 'oft a portion of the', Book of Mormon 'or the Golden Plates, they heard only a deeply impressive chapter from the. New Test~inent.. The reading ended, he paused for a moment, then. saying, "let us pray," knelt, down. There was nothing in the simple 'act of a minister's kneeling to excite attention, for the practice was common. ,The whole congregation had been.. accustomed to. that. mode froin~their infancy~ But the manner in which that sirt~ple act was perEormed ~ the Morn~ion was striking. There was deep. humility of soul. ir~ every attitnde~and inotioir. .It.seemed as. if he. wished to pros- t.rate himself in the very dust before Him whom he was about to address. But theprayer, the prayer itself, was still more striking and. peculiar. Itwas uttered in a low, deep tone, but every ivord was distinctly audible at the remotest corner of the room. He seemed to hava forgotten that an audience was around him, prepared to criticise every. ,~or.d he uttered, but appeared to remember only that he was in the presence of the Deity. Many of the serious portion of the congregation were affected, and even the young men and overgrown boys, who came there for sport, were awed 4nto silence. He took .a 'text from the Bible, a verse of the same chapter that ~e had just read. in a serm~m of nearly an hour and a half long, ,he ex- plained the grounds upon which .the Iaatter-Day Saints, the followers of 'Jo Srniih%. founded their belief in Mormonism. These doctrines he efended with an ingenuity of argument, and an eloquence that wanted bt~t- the simple ingredient of irutk to r~d~r it ~ mo4el of i~t4i~it ~ Unexpectedly to all,. he professed t~ receive the QId and ~I~4~w ~Festa~ ments as the word of God, and drew from the j~ible it Wa~h4w ?rP~fs which he adduced in support Of the Mormon cro~ed. ir~it~a~Wp pas~ sages were quoted by huiufrom the Bible, which he iagen~on~ly euq~k'yeti to sustain their peciUiar doctrines, and 'like authenticity of ~he Mbrinon. They termed themselves "t~atLer.4I)s.y Saints," 'he said, in reference to the near approach of the "Latter Pay," when the 4ng~l, with one foot upon the land and the other on the sea, should decla~ that time should be no longer. Many striking pa~sa~es of S~ripturo were adduced in support of this, and especi~dly frcnl the prophetic. books of the Old Testament. The last days of the earth were at their very doors. With ingenious sophistry, various passages which lie quoted. from the Bible were seemingly made to prove that, shortly btifore the conflagration of the ~ vo4d, and the consummation of all thing ~, a new revela~jor~ was to came to light, and a people arise, p~qf~ssirg a purer faith, upon whom would be conferred the power 'of healingg' the sick~ speaking in unknown tongues, and performing va4ous other i~iiraeles. This sermon was delivered with all that earnest fervor which .~su~l~y characterizes the words and action~ of him who is thQroughly conyineed of the truth of what he utters, and de~ply'~feels its iInportane~.. .411' seen~ed' to listen vith serious attention~ . The levity .esliibited so quivocally in the early part of the e~ei4ng had alt disappeared, ai~d those who came .fqr the purpose of making sport, an4 turning alt ~he services into ridicule, returned home a~ the close. g the ~er~t9ik, sii~nt and thoughtful. Some of the most :yespecta14~ of the ~i~iz~ ~x~e l'orw~xd, and invited the preacher to visit that place again. Upon the mind of no one, perhaps, was there made so profound an impression, as upon that of James Maverick. He knew the preacher, and~ he knew, also, the sacrifices, more cruel than martyrdotn itself, which the preacher had made for that which he d~eme4 ~ ~ru~ ~ Though Maverick wa~ far from being a ~[orzn9n, lie c~u44 riot .~vojd feeling a sincere respect for a xnan who had give~ 'Su* proofs of 4ee~p sincerity and regard for truth. On their way h~mc the subject of the sermon was 4j~ci~s.~e4, and after their arrival, till ~ late ho~r pf the night, The n.e~t ~yeaing, Mtwexiok att~iided';the'preaching.' Night .~fter night~ for earlyy two ~weeks, the Mormon held 'forth at the schoeV.house of that settlementt,, ;to'h~ge and still inoreasin~ dien'ee~; People came there from a great distance around, to heat' the preaching. Much ex.- page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 54 TIlE M01~MO~TT!SS; OIt~ citeinent began to prevail. FWe men, with their wives, all of whom were mem era ~f'otthedox churches, came forward, and publicly con- fessed themselves converts to Mormonisin. These were baptized by Mr. Wiltuer, for the Mormons acknowledged not the validity of the rite. performed by any sect or denomination.' After this they were received 'into the church of the Latter-Day Saints. Other candidates Were expected soon to follow. The opposition to Mormonism now broke forth with redoubled violence. Good ,m~n looked on with fear and trembling, for no one knew where this delushn would end.. None of'the oppos~rs of that sect were more implacable and unrelenting in their hostility to Mormonism, in all its various phases, than was Judge Maverick. He was a man of a sound head, and of sincere piety, but without a~ particle of charity for Joe 7-Sinith, or any intelligent man who preached his doctrines. He 1?Iamed his son James, severely blamed him, for harboring Wilmer, or listening to his preaching. Not even the hospitality shown to him by that man could justify' him for inviting him to his house. The mother of young Maverick 'wept over him, and with anguish of heart implored him to 'avoid the Mormons, for it would "kill her and his wife both," she said, if he should be deluded by their sophistry, and join the odious sect. James *as already aware of the feelings of Mary upon that subject, for, though she had forborne from speaking of the Mormons for a long time past, yet' the increasing paleness of her countenance, and her de- jbcted 'appearance, 'betrayed the deep anguish with Which she beheld his frequent associations with the Latter-Day Saints. He was greatly affected at the sight of his mothers tears, for he had never before seen her weep as she did now, and solemnly promised her that he would go no more to 'their meetings, and hold no more intercourse with any of the sect1 The joy of his mother at this promise of her son was great. 'She went directly to his house, and communicated the intelligence to Mary, who was 'nearly overcome with this' 'unexpected happiness. She em- braced her mother~in-Iaw, ~nd wept tears of joy and hope upoii her bosom1 Young ~Maveticl faithfully kept his pledge, much to the grief and sore disappointment of Wilmer and the rest of the Mormons residing in 'that settlement, who had counted largely upon the weight and influ- ence which his joining them would'~giv-e to Mormonism in that region. lie not only fulfilled, his promise, but fulfilled it to t~e yery letter and spirit in which he gave it, and refused even to listen to one of their ar-, I THE TRIALS OP MARY MAV~RtCK, guinents. The only means they could employ, to express to him their reproaches, was the silent look of. sorrow and regret they ~cast~.upon him, whenever, by chance, he met any of thei~ niwiber. He kept this engagement far more easily 'thtui he would have done, but for the circumstance that just at this important period Wilmer found it necessary to quit the settlement, and occupy a distant field, to which he ~vas called by the imperative voice of the Prophet himself1 V~Af~Y~fu~ CHAPTER III "0! the happy days are fled; Theynever will return; And the tears, to-day by Memory 8hed, Fall only on their tMn."-Moo~~e. Several months have gone by siAce the departure of Whiner from' the settlement of Sixteen Mile PraiAe, in which period the ~ver-~ary- i~~ig features of Mormonism have assumed still another hue. "The G~ft of Tongues," as it was styled, no longer confined to one or two of their most popular preachers, had even become general. The most illiterate of their members, men and women who were unable to read a single wdrd of their own native English, and even children, c6uld prophesy fluently, it was said, in Hebrew, Gteek, Chaldee, '~yria6, an4 numerous other lai~guages. This was no~ attempted at all ~their' med- ings. Sometimes, the individual wh~ uttered the strain of u~hi~i~ sounds professed to give the meaning, himself, in English; ~htit more &6mnionly, the "interpve~ation," as it was called, was given by ~Oxne' one else. The excitement of the public mind was manifested by scenes of violence which no native American can remember without shame and mortification, for mobs and lynch law became the order of the day. But these violent and illegal measures had the effect which all attempts to change the religious opinions of men by physical ' force ever have had. In frequent instances, the meetings of 'the Mormons for public worship, though held in their own houses, were broken up; and fortunate indeed were the inmates if they escaped aiiy worse outrage. In vain did the victims appeal for 'protection to the laws of their country. Our institutions, which guarantee the freedoni of religious 'ophii6n to the Jew, the Mahometan, the Pagan, and even to the ./It1,eis#,' afi~rded' no protection to the Mormon. Their own dv~"eIlings might be iiivaded~ their wives and daughters insulted and abused, their windows brok-e1~ "I page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] TEX XO~I~QNESS; OR, in, and in UIQ~O tJ~a~zi Qne instance, their houses bi~rnt do .vn over their heads, with perfect impunity. Few magistrates will risk the certain loss of votes at the next election, merely to protect the rights of men without influence, against the injustice of tI~e muit~tu~1e, whe~hr these hapless victims of mob law art Mormons or not. But the Latter-Day Saints increased but' the mere rapidly Lex these persecutions, and the consequence of it was, that prosel.ytes were added to their church in nearly every place that their preachers visited. Some few of the Mormons, even at this early period, had lost their lives, and most of them held life and property only at the will of an American mob. Under the direction of Joe Smith, the Latter-Day Saints had settled, in great numbers, in one of the counties of Missouri, high up the river of the same name. Here it was the intention of the Prophet ~o found a Mormon colony, which should become the permanent "Head Quar- ters" of the Order Lor all time to come. Many hundred families had arrived there from the various States of the Union, purchased ~ piece of land, 'a~nd witW gi~eat industry applied therns~elves to i~s cultivation. At the period of which we are 'now speaking, the p~qp~e of that part of Missouri had, not lQng before, assembled em mass~, 4rive~i these Mor- mons from their homes, and compelled them to leav t.~e~ion. They- gave them permission, however, to settle in a 91eu) 4I4~ uminWibited county of the State, on the extreme frontier, adjoining the territory of various savage tribes; pledging their honor to the Mormons, that in that distaut retreat they 'should never be molested. Conducted by 'the Prophet, who marched at their head, always ready tu share~ with his PAlowers whatever toils and dangers awaited them~ these Mormon Pilgrims, with their wives and children, and the scanty remains of earthly goods still left them, took up the long and melancholy line of their march to the Indian frontier. Here they applied them~eWes with the persevering industry that has ever formed a distinguishing trait in the character of the sect, and before ma:ny moons had wamed and waned, every thing in that wild region h~d assumed a new and plea- sing ~ppearance. Each family had its own allotment of ground, upon which there soon arose- a neat dwelling, and~ variouS other improve- ments. But the M~rm0ns scatts~ied over the United StRt~s, most of them the newly made converts of pi~eacJmens gent into the ~i~el4, felt the hand of perse~ntion, artdjn ma~iy pla.ces2tbeiriives were wgreo.t jeopardy. T~ shMd his peoplee thus scattered abroad, -was n~nzioasly destred by THE TRIALS OP 'MAItY MAVERICK. 67 the Prophet. To effect that -purpose, he resolved to call them all,~with as little delay as possible, to that place,, wl~ich he had established as the' "Zion" of the sect. Smith had a new revelation ftom Heairenin- forming him 'that the time was now neat at hand'when the Destroying Angel would pass over the earth, when the wicked should be cutoff in their sins, and the saints above possess the earth. M~sengers were sent in every direction, where Mormon converts were found, to proclaim to them, in the word~ of the Prophet, "came out from among the wicked, my people, for why willye perish, with them-come up to the Zion which the Lord thy God has establishecV for his saints." The unbelie- ving world, too, must be warned forthe last time: "get ye up, flee to the mountains, lest ye be con&uraed; for the great and terrible day of God's wrath is coming quickly, when the unbelieving world shall be utterly cut off." Such were the messages to "saint ner," proclaimed abroad by the preacher sent out by Smith. Nor was the mission fruitless in converts. Instead of ~iirging the people, as formerly, to ~mbrac~ their doctrines, they' now assumed a different 'tone, ~v~rnimig th~tn not to joih'the ranks of~ 'the tatter-t~ay Saints, unless they were ready t~. lay down their lives, like the martyrs of old and seal the bonds o~ faith with their 'own' blood. Other sects, said they, could i~epose on "flowery beds" of ease," but the Latter-Day Saints have nothing tO expect from the world but persecution and death. 'And this language' was not out effect; for such is human nature, that persecution and bloodshed'have always increased the persecuted sect. Employ force and violence to put down the ~vild~-st delusion that fanaticism ever invented, and you in'~vitably insure its success. The h story of the world attests tha~t fruth. It is strikingly verified in the case of the Mormons. Hundreds whb ridiculed the absurdities of that creed when its followers were unmo- lested, fell directly into the snare of Mormonism v~rhen their sympathies were awakened by seeing them calmly enduring persecution and death for the cause. In all human probability, had, the followers of Joe Smith been left to pursue the dictates of- their own consciences, unmolested and undis- turbed, as so many other religionists do-in all prob' ~equally absurd have done, and yet ability, had not the Mormons, been assailed with perse- cution, the plunder of their property by American lynch law, and n~ade to suffer death-in all proba~~ility, the figment of the Golden Plates would long since have been forgotten, and the very name ~f Joe smith perished from the meniory~ of man. The, wildest an4 mOst.- absurd page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] :IHE MOILMONRM FOR, doctrims iewnse rwpedaMe, #hen-~those ~ho p~ess~ thetn:seal their Joe Siul;hl~y stafl4 firm- and ~izndisaxaypd amidst t~he~storrxr*f- per.. set~ulion~that beat-upon his4efenseloss head, 4kr4ateni&~g4eat~h-to him. self, and utter xlrinctiQn .to Mormonism, called for~h~r.~petn..fom even the moat--eril~gl$~ene4. classes of-society. One-of .the~~ost4aIented of all our American poets.said, in his thrilling "Lines to4oe Smilk," whose firmness in the fearful hour o1~ peril-had ~excited the admiration of -the bard: - "Not-falloa!---nol as well the tall Arid~iltated Aliegiwny fall; As-4yell the MiuisM~~ipi~e tide Roll baskwatd on-Its aiighty-tr-aok, As na, thocHosuIn's hope andprid., Theslaadsred and the soreW tried; -Ia his ~ The preacher sent at this time l~y the Prophet to-the settlement in whieh Maverick resided, was a v~ery aged man. 4Iis preaching could hardly fafl of l~eing eloquent, for the -veneriible rorm ~f the oldpreacher, and his lodcs, -white as the drive~i snow, gave double- force to the fervent appeals he addressed to his audience. '~(ew conve)~tayrere maile, and these, with theMormons who had previously united with the Order, had decided, without hesitation, to obey the commands of the Vrophet, and set out ifor ~iolA within a few months. Maverick, true to his promise, attended none of their meetings, and held no intercourse with he Mormons, but it w~ not possible for him to remain ignorant of their proceedings? for that subject was the theme of every tongue. ~t'he effect which these affairs had on his mind ~was probably greater than it would~have been, had~he actually attended their meetings. lie felthimnself restrained from going among them by the promise he had given to his mother, and, in spite of all his ~efl'orts to prevent it, his thoughts would continually dwell upon that theme. The old-preacher often heatd his brethren -speak ~f the~ sore disap. pointment they had received in the desertion c~f Mnverkk. All had calculated upon ibis uniting with ihemancVhis infhxenee,-they -felt sure, would -have led ~reu~t nurnbersinu~-the -true fold. his -loss was tegar§ddd as-a serious -calamity, anrVhis - defection - was a-~ource- of deep regr~vto all. The -old Mormon, frequently hearing them lameut- his - desertion, -se.. cretly ~deterxnined that he would make a powerftil--effott to-ivin him buck to the church of the Latter-Day Saints. 4- TH1~ TRXAL8 ATh~ MARY ~f4VRILtCk. 69- U 4 With that. 4osig~4iesisjted y~ung~ Maverick-. one afternoon, when, he -.at~wer~k alone in-his liekk he tslkedto:him earnestly; but most aieetionateIy~ hIe-tol& him of the revelation of the.- Prophet, that the. es~ructiorr of-the--unbellevingworld. drew near. Warning~him sol~znnly.- of hi~ apro~hipg,4oom, and- expressing. deep-:regret-that the yo'mg mat~ had. no~ehosen hie, 1~t~ with. the porsecuwd children of God, the. I4atter4)ay- S~dnts~ the-aged Mormon fervently and affectioAately-presued. the- handrOf - 1~~averick Cor a moment,-jn silence and in.. tears; then- sob emnly. bitkling -him -an eternal faxewel1~ left him. The sqlemnair and manner ~of the- venerable priest, no less than his iirning~.and. denunciation, went to the heart qf Maverick like an ice- it. A cold~ shuddering sensation seized-him, and -he feltlika a felon. suddenly and un~x-pectediy sontenced~to death,- frpin. which there -is no hope~of repr~im~e. Twice or. -three times lie- was. on the-point of calling the preacher, back-i but in despair desisted.. Hi~ mind- was too ill at ease for hiiyrto ;think of'resumnisg~ his labors,~ ~td he sat dowa listlessly,- upon- the plow which:he-had left there onL~he- day previous. What., woul&all * hi~ 1abo~ra.proLltMm or his? Of -wliat use to hini-woukibe his %lelds..~- all hisjosse on~.-.-.whef~he id4hey-.were so soon to be destroyed? - look~d aro~mnd upon -his~we1l -cult - farm with sensation, of ~uiex. pressible clothing~ 11tI4 he: not,~k&these, and for other earthlytreas- urea, refmtsed~to unite himself wit~t~15people-of- God? What: a price, whata fearful price had. he paidje-~4nsole his mother, and- still! d~arer- relations ~ This-i passage-- of Scripture flashed. like a scathing thunder. bupowhis~tomtured mind: "He ~4~twiltn4f~rsakefatI&er an4mother, w{fr and children, for my-name'8 sake, is unworthy of the. kingdom of Hcc~en~" Groaning aloud - in. hi~ agony, he covered-up his face, with the. feelingthat. one so lost~ought iiot-to look upward. But, was it now forev~r ~ late fom~ him t~ reiract his rash and fatal pr~miseV. Hekaew not~ Yet, even wereit~nottoo lat~, could he dash to the earth, at o~ie blow, all the earthly hopes and happiness of his wife and parents, and unmte,. with. a~seet which. thay~ detested, plunging them: int(~ sorrow for the - remnant. of. their days?- - Would n~t his wife and child, like tho~e - of rWilawr, desert him? If they (lid, what a bitter cup-would be pressed. to his lips! Better die at. once, fl~an-endure the longragony of an-eterrzal sepmiration from his wife and child. His n~nd was a. chaos of harrow. iag -- thoughts. There he sat, unconscious of the progress of time, un- conseious pt-everything but wretchedness, while tli~e sun-dediuiad low in the west, andat last went doy~n. The shad~o of twili&1rt~spread iheir 4im curtain over hiin,2and the chilVdeivs.of i4ght had deaceuded, when page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 6 T11D~ MOflMONflSS; Ott, he was aroused from his reverie by the voice of his wife, calling him by name. Alarmed at hjs long absence, 4e had sought him ~t the 'house' of their nearest neighbor, and there earned that near sunset he had been seen sitting down in his field, and thither she hastened, in the utmost alarm. The ~cold dews on his thin dress had chilled him, and when aroused by the voice 'of his wife, he shivered like one under the influence of the ague. 'Yo her anxious inquiries, he merely replied that h& was unwell; begged~ her to feel no disquietude on his account, and accompanied her to the house. Mrs. Maverick kneW itothing of his interview with the old preaclIer in' the field, and had not the slightest suspicion that the subject of Mormonism occupied his Ihoughts. For several months he had attended none' of their meetings, and avoided having any intercourse with the members, and most devoutly did she thank God that he had escaped their 'si~iares. She' did not even dream that the fearful warnings of the old preacher, and his denunciations of impending destruction, at that very moment agitated her husband's mind, nearly driving him to frenzy and despair. She attributed his long stay in 'the field' to sudden illness. and would have employed a'ineighbor to go for the physician, but this he' peremptorily forbid, 'assuring her that he would be entirely well again after a night's rest. At supper, to quiet the fears of his wife, he attempted to eat,' but the effort~ wa~ beyond his power to accomplish. Food w~s loathesoi~e to his' sight. He drank part of a cup of tea, and retired to bed. Mary would have prepared for him some of the prescriptions which she had 'so often found efficacious, but he declined taking them. To avoid further importunities' of his anxious wife, he closed his eyes and feigned sleep. It was' a long and dreary night to James Maverick. Every moment when awake, the" warning voice of the aged.. Mormon was sounding its fearful knell in his ears, telling him of his doom. Every look, every gesture of the old preacher was still present to his view. The moment he fell into asluinber, the woe~ denounced upon him by. the white-haired priest 'were a~l living realities, and thefr fulfillment was already begun. He saw th& separation made between the "sheep and the 'goats"~-4he wicked cut off-and none now remaining o~ the face of The purified earth but the Latter-Day Saints, who w~ere the sole tenants of a sinkss w6rld, 'prepared for their reshtence alone. In the morning, Maverick rose at dawn, and mechanically perforrn~d the usual jobs about the ~iou~e. At breakfast he ate little, and his wife saw wit alarm his haggard appearance. Shortly" afterward complain- ing of head-ache, he laid himself upon the bed. In an hour more, a * * During the early part of 'his illness, Maverick neither spok6 'iwr uttered a single. ~~ord, or an exclamation of pain. He lay silent and still, his glaring eyes fixed, with fdgl~tfiil intensity, upon vacancy. his lips moved, at times, as if he were talking to the invisible being upon which he gazed, but no sound was heard. At length, a change came over the suffering patient. He began to move restlessly in his bed, and at times muttered wildly and incohe.. rently. One night, during this period in his disorder, about an hour after friidnight, Mary and Judge Maverick were-keeping watch, alone; in the sick room. The mother, worn out with fatigue and anxiety, had retired to rest in an.adjoihing room. A' neighboring woman, who had dome there to watch' for the night, finding 'it impossible to keep awake; had lain 'down upon the bed iii which slept the elder Mrs. Maverick, and -7' THfl ~RIkts OF MAR~t ~MA~ERICI(I burning ~fever was raging in his veins. A messenger was sent to his parents,~who imin~diately dispatched Frank for Dr. Horion; ~d 'set ~i1i instantly for flue h9use of their sep. When 'they arrivea, James gazed long and' earnestly upon his father, and mother, but there was no' intel- lignce in the glazed' eye he cast upon his pareias. He did nof kn6w them. The doctor, on examining the symptoms of his patient, pronounced his disorder a. br ai ~i fever, 'a~nd immediately went to work, with vigor and skill, to combat the disease. He shaved the patient's head, applied blis- ters, and ~employed 'other means of a dePletory character. But faint hopes of his i'e cpvery were entertained by Dr. Horton. For days the attendance of the physician was unremitting, except for an hour or two daily, when he returned home for a few minutes, and' made a brief visit to a. patient near by, who was conv~iescent, a out of all danger. Little Eddy, at the commencement of his father's illness, was sent to ,the care of 11 is aunt, that the undivided attention of his mother might be bestowed upon her sick husband. Judge Maverick passed the nights' at the house of his son, a'nd on his return home in the morning, Frauk was sent there to assist his mother and Mary during the day, an4 that hc might be l)resent, should any unexpected emergency arise to de- mand his aid. These two women, the wife and the mother, were constantly nt the bed-side of the sick man, except when exhausted nature required repoSe, when in turn they snatched a few hours of rest. * ' page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] ~IIJfl MOflMG~ESS; O1~, was instantly Last asleep. All was still throughout the house, a:'.d not a sound was heard but The heavy breathing of the sick man. Suddenly he .tarted-raised himself up in the bed, threw his naked arms wildly around, and cried out, in the most appalling tones ever uttered ~by mortal voice, "The judgment! the judgment has come! Hark! its jeai is suun~ling!" At that very instant a thunder storm that had long been rolling up unperceived by them, suddenly burst forth in a blinding flash, followed by a peal of thunder that seemed to shake the solid globe down to its very core. Mary heard something fall heavily behind her. Judgo Maverick had fainted. But she had no time to attend to him, for her husband, in his insane ravings, was attempting to rise from his bed, and rush out into the storm that was now raging with violence. She dared not call aloud for aid, lest her cry should render the frenzy of her delirious husband uncontrollable. Seizing a pitcher of water that stood near her, on the table, she dashed its contents into the face of Judge Maverick, and instantly resumed her place at the bed-side of the maniac. fI~he Judge quickly revived, and sat up. Happily, the thunder clap awoke the mQther, who hastily put on her clothes and repaired to the sick room. All the remaining part of that long, long night, the patient raved in delirium. It was no .v, for the first time, that his wife ~nd parents be- came aware of the visit of the Mormon preacher to young Maverick, in the field. His ravings disclosed to them the startling fact, that the awful denunciations and warnings of the aged priest had unsettled his reason, and were still preying upon his life. In his delirium, the sick man repeated all that th~ Mormon had utterQd, and often called aloud to the old man, implp+ing him, in the most moving terms, to have mercy upon him, and spare him from the doom he had pronounce1. In the 2 urse of the night, his ravings suddenly changed. He n-ow iiytagined that father and mflher, wife and child, had all res )lVed to leav&hirn if he united with the ~ [ormons, and he implored his wife, by th memory-of their early love-by all his undying affection for her, and for their ouXy child, not to cast him off. His supplications to Mary were heartrending, and almost beyond her powers of endurance, though she was Lully aware that his entreaties to her were only the ravings of a disordered intellect. She threw her arms around his neck, and weeping upon his bosom, exclaimed, "Oh no! no! my poor, afflicted husband! I will never leave you, never cast you - oft', nevi~~ desert you. In sorrow and affliction, in woe and misery, I will ever be yours. Father and TII~ TRIALS OF M.~RY MAVERICK. mother may spurn you, the whole world may scoff at you, my poor husband, but Mary kill be your comforter. Even the wild delusions o~ Mormonisin, that have so cruelly destroyed your reason, and made shipwreck of our happiness, shall not separate us. Like Ruth of old, "whither thou goest~I will go, and your God shall be my God." Should reason never again return to you, and I fear it nevei' will, your head shall still be pillowed upon the bosom of your own true Mary, .e.ven more fondly than in the days of our early love." While Mary was uttering these words, and for some minutes after, the maniac gazed so intently upon the face of his wife, that her heart thrilled with the hope that lie at length knew her and comprehended what she had uttered. But her hopes were deceived. No lucid interval had yet dawned upon that disordered mind. On the contrary, his frenzy soon became still more wild and terrific. In the new mood of his d&li- rium, he imagined that he stood, with the assembled universe, before the Judge of quick and dead, to hear his final doom. He had bar- tered the salvation of his soul, merely to please his wife and parents. The throng of glorified spirits who had triumphantly perished at the stake, or been torn in pieces by wild beasts, joyfully embracing martyr- dom-all these, as they heard his story, turned upon him a look of withering scorn, and cried "fool! .fool /" As the demons, at the conE- mand of his Judge, hurled him, shrieking, into the fathon~less abyss, myriads of infernalshapes howled at him till every cavern of the gloomy vault echoed back the cry, "fool I fool I fool !', He raved thus till near dawn, then gradually sunk into a caluX and tranquil sleep that lasted many hQurs. Dr. Horton frequently went to his bed-side, during this interval, and anxiously examined the pulse of the patient, for this he believed to be the crisis of his disorder, from which he would rapidly recover, or immediately sink into the grave. There was another fear that haunted the mind of the doctor, which he dared not breathe to others-thc fear tuat his patient would become a confirmed maniac. - - It was near the middle of the afternoon when the sick man awoke. None were in the room but the parents and wife of the patient, and Dr. Horton. He opened his eyes and gazed for a few moments npon the group at his bed-side, and inquired if he had been very sicl~., Thenr was sanity of mind in that look, and every heart in the - room, beat with joy and thankfulness. Other questions from the sick man followed, ali of which manifested a return of reason. .In a short time, at a sign given by Mary, all departed.frQmn the room, U -I I page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] TEE MORMO~E~S; OR, and left her alone with her husband. Sh&Was anxious to remove from his mind, ~s quickly ~s p~ssib1e, the feat that she~ould abandon him, if he b~carn~ a~to±mon~-a fear which she doubtednot had caused much of the ~ufferix~g~ and delirium he had endured; An hour passed by while she Was alone with .her husband. When sh~ left the room he~ face was bathed in tears, ~nd without looking at' any one, she retired to her own apartment, bblted the door; u~ if to shut out her own thoughts, and ibrowing herself upon the bed, wept al6ud~ She had pledged her. self to join the Mormons 'with her husband, go with him to the newly founded Zion of that sect, 'and, in weal or in woe, share the lot of her husband. CHAPTER IV. "And man, whcse heaven-erected face' The smiles of love adorn, Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn."-Burnr. Maverick now rapidly recovered. The old preacher h~d t'riumplteJ. The Mormons to'~k no pains to conceal their' exultation at having at isngth gairieda pr~s~l~e~who had so nearly escaped them, and one who -~w~iil'd g~X~ ~iuch weight and influence to the sect. In about two weeks, James Maverick and his wife were baptized by the old Morn~n priest, and formally received ~int~& the~ church of 'the Latter-Day Saints. On the pale Lace of Mary, a~ ~ ati&1 by the side of her husband, on the bank' o~ the 'stream iii'wliish they 'were un- m~rsed i'esi~nation beamed, but 'not a singis glow &f ~that enthusiasm that ~hone in the features of her husband. Even the' family of Judge Maverick believed tha~t she had sacrificed h~r own happiness, to pro- mote 'that of her husband. ' * * * * * * It was n~w'the uiidd~e of September, but the Prophet had given to the Mormonites of that "stake," as it was t6r'med, permission to remain jill ~ay,~hat they might ~dis~o~e of'their property. On the second 'day of th~it 'month, allthe disciples of that region were comrnand~d t6 set ~ut for ~ion. ' ~'' The friends of James Maverick saw, with' inexpressible g~ief,' the ~uin impending~ ov&r 'his'ljttl~ family, and resolved to employ every THE TRI4L$ OF MARY MAVERICK. meana in tha~r pow~r, dt~ring th~ few ni~nths preceding their intended departed, to convince him of iiis delusion. Atnong the ~var~r~est friends of the Mavericks w~ wealthy apd higidy aecomplishe4 English family, of the r~ame. o~1'~ $ta~iley, ~ho re- sided about fifteen niiles distant. 'Maverick and his. wif visit~4 them, and a warm friendship had ~pru~xg up between the two families. Great was the affii~t~on of the ~tanleys ~at th~ 4elusiQn of Maverick, and the self.sa~rifice of Mary,. for they~I~new the whele history' pJ~ ll~s' conversion, and resolved to make 'an effort to save th~~m from the ruin tln4 awaited them. ' ' An opportunity of putting that resolution into effect Soon offered~jK. Young Maverick visited them one day, wii~i 'the ostensible, purpose of returning a borrowed book, 'but with the real design of attempting the conversion of the family.. The ~ubjeot of Monnonisin was soon intro- duced, and earnestly contested on both sides. At length, l~'t ye~i'c1~ ad~, duced. the gift~of unknown tongues as a proof of Mormoniarn, that was perfectly irresistible. He acknowledged. that ~he gift had not been be~ stowed~ upon him, but Mr. French, a n~an with whom the Staxileys were ~ve~l acquainted, often prayed in ten different languages, ti~ough igx~o- raii't of all but the English. #The idea instantly occmirred 4~S~tan-' ley to .urimask'this French, whom he. knew to~ be a~ artful, V~ilhiter~ ate man, who loudly proclaimed his intention of going with i~i~ brethren to Zinn, while at the same time he was heying up their f~atms~ at frss than half their value, under a premise of paying th~e ft~U worth ta soon as he could 'dis~ose~of them. to ~dvantage~ I~r&nch had~ gained a fatal ascendancy over the nsnspe~eting'miiid Of youig~ Maverlek, and Stanley believed that tmma~king him would open the eyes of hiss friend. He told.Ma.verick that French couki e~I~r palm off 'his gibberish upon the ignorant, but even 'French, ~wiIa a~A his ha. pudeii& *ould~ not ddre pretend, in i&is preseriee~ to tpe~k ~y 1a*~- guage but English; and assured him if French would ~c6zne **rt utter a single sentence in any one of fourlanguage~ ~h~tt Sta~4#yua4er... st6~6d, he himself would turn Mormon. , rhis a~siirance of Stanley rkiede a deer impression u~ron the r~thauI @f:~ Ma~eri&1c,' whose~ confldmee in the truth of his xiew creed wa,~ net' ~w 1ittl~ ~haken. He departed with a solemn ~proaiiee to the Sts~i1e~#iiat he wo~d4 abam{on ~Morineni.srn, i~ French iefi*sed to eome ~there fuld stan~l the test of prayingin their present n4the "unknowzi~ t~ngne&4 Ma1~k'~eiit' directly t6Ftench, ~ud told hinvahl that~ Tizd~ puzse4~ Mit ' ' ' ~'' i~t'is related. that is said of French and Stanley occurred jueta5 page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] (~3 THE MO1~MONESS ~' OR, The wily f~illow s~w that he' nn~st' play a bokigaine, or Mavetick would escape from the Morrxions.. 'Numerous others *ould follow his example, and pu~ 'aii"~nd t~o th& ~pe'c~iati'on of buyit~g their farms. Feigning the utmost *il{hrgnes~ to staii&the proposed ~tesi, he appointed an early day when h ~o~ld~o'*ith' him te the hous~ of Staiiley. Great wa~ the asnonieliment 'of that family, to see their youn~ friend arrive i~comp~iiy"iiiit1P French. Mr. Stanley, unwilling to converse with the inanupon. any other subject', repeated to French the terms of his' agreement with Ms'v~rick, and named again the languages in which he was to pray. French replied that it was impossible for him Ao- say,~ in advance, ~vlaat languages he might pray iA, for he could only as the spirit gave him 'utterajice." -, At 'hi~ request,' all ~eseiit prostrated themselves upon their knees, and FreAch commenced his prayer. After ~a f~v introductory petitions, he iinp1ored~ ~with appareilt' fervor, the gift of one unknown tongue, to conviiice the :unbelievers preserit~ Continui'ng in that strain for a few, minutes,' he~ 'at lengTh. br6ke out', into an unintelligible' gibberish, the sounds of which~ were nearly all guttural. Then returning thanks for the' 'gift' of 6iie unknown tongue, he implored the gift of another, and again utte~ed a string of unintelligible words, differing someWhat, in souiid;:frbm the former. For the fourth time he uttered what he termed an ftk~i~u~n 'to gt~e~. Lie IYa4~x~6t' spoken e word in either' &nC of the foni' langaa~es named by $tahley, yet ~he evaded' the' force of this~,by saying that he could speak only such tongues as the spirit dictated. 'S~anlefstodd aghast at th~, bold impudence of that impostor~. It was in vain 'that' he had at. temptedito 'undt~ceive 'Maverick~. "The 'readiness which French ma.ni- Ceste~ to~ijray in the unkiiovm'tongues~ in the. presence of such a scholar as .Sta~l# i~emoved fr~iin the mind- of young Ma~veriok: tl~e dotibta which '~the ~a~men~ta of 'his friend had excited, and served only to conflrxu him '%tIlI mote in ihat delusion.. Tlieop~o~ition to theMorrnons~ not .only in that settlement,' but all over the West, grew, day by day,' more violent. Reports injurious to the sect-, wl~ich' had n.ot the slightest foundaff~n~ in truth, ware every- ~yh&re 'ekcujated., I~Ien who. had hitherto been universally esteemed for their virtues, were ~c~used~ now that they bad joined the. Mor- mons, of every crime 'in the ~decaj~og~te. Even M~veriek was reported, at a 'distance, to be connected with a band of horsq thieves, who united to~ether~ and protected each other from pisnishment, by false sw~aring. liardly a day passed in which he was not made ~the victim Qf some gross. insult or abuse. 57 Irhese unmerited' and cruel 'wrongs, inflicted u~on"that sect, and espe- cially upon her own husband, made a deep impression upon the feelings of Mary~ 'they enlisted, her ~yuq~thies in the cause, of the injured, and hada thousand? fold greater eWect than all Prophet, himself have had, tocha arguments' of~ the could ~Dge her opinions.' Insensibly tQ herself, the daily abuse unjustly heaped jippnher husband 'wrought an geinherv' entire chan iows of MormoniTarm, and? she xiow joined ~ieart and hand with that sect, and willingly united her destiny with theirs. Such is ever the effect of.persecution, even of, those most deeply in error. The period of departiare for 'Zion 'had arrived for the~ Latter-Day Saints of Sixteen Mile Prairie "Stake," end' a very large company of them were to set' out on the following morning. Maverick and his little family would pass the night'at their nearest neighbor's. ' The sa~ticlee most needed on the journey, and after their arrival, were already do" posited in the wagon. Mary had carefully packed among thesa the few favorite play things of little 'Eddy, his magic lantern and his books. These were endeared to the heart of the youthful mother~by mn~y'ten- der recollections, and she could Dot endure the idea of leaving them to other hands.', J.ust on the eveof bidding a last farewell t~ the home she had so fondly loved,"Mary' resolved to visii~ it alone, when, nprie could witness her tears. The evening was mild, the heavens cloudless, and' the air ibalmy with the odors of. spring. The full'moon: had just risen; dift'usipg ~ruellow light over the landscape. Mrs. Mayeriek secretly~ left' the honse of their neighbor, to wander. for. the last time over her late, peaceful 'home. She entered the deserted dwelling, and ~risited every, room. She Walked slowly among the shrubs.and flowers that she,'had love4 sq well, every' one of'whiclv had been planted and' tended by her'owu h~nd~ ~ ~Many of them were now in full bloom, and almost scen~nod tgAo$c ~ on her, whose care they had long received. ,;T1~2ese ~ a$ *hrubs. she would' behold no~more. She hads now. flO~ horneo M~toe~orth she must be a pilgrim upon the face of 'tha~wide 'and irnfiindjy:woi~l4~~ ~,No hopes but such as spring. from a faithful' discharge of the aterli d~itie~ of life were before her. ToiLandstzffering, and even .niartyrdom itm.tlf might' be' her lot. 'A few buying teare, whieh~ she '~could~ n~t ie prees, fell ttpon 'the flowers~over which t-he~ lamt., Quickly. c~nt~oli.. ing these emotions, she 'knolt 4o~n acrrongCthe ~shrubs and ~wera, p~ud implored strength frani on high to-discharge all the 'dutiea~ ,ths~t ~niight devolve upon her. She arose Tronu~ her~knees, cahirand resigned,. and, ~IIE TttIAXIS ~ MAit~ MAVERICK $7 page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] Ga TII~. MQIt~IQN~S$ OR, reached the house of their neighbor before her .abs~ce had~been rio- tired, * .* :* * * We shall pass over the incid~ts of the journey to. 'gie ~Morniom Zi- on, and e~n omit the occurrence~ of the next two years after their ar~ rival. Yet these two year~ were marked with signal events to the 'Moi~- inons. Great nutabers of th~ ~Latter-Day Saints had gather~e4t~wr~. from the various States of the great American-Republic, and some from nearly every Kingdom of Europe. With the untiring industry which that sect has manifested at every place they have yet occupied, this wild frontier wilderness had been converted into fruitful fields. Smiling cottages had sprung up on ev~ cry side, as if by magic. Each family had its own allotment of~ ground~ and peace and plenty shed their hallowed influence around this commu~~ nity. The surplus products of their labor were e~~hanged with their merchants and mechanics for such articles as they needed, while their. printing press gave them weekly intelligence of the far-off land which they had left; besides supplying them with books that taught ~thern the' laws and doctrines of their sect, with the revelations of :their rrophet. Missionaries had been sent out, two and two, even into regions beyond. the Atlantic,. and hardly~a place diii they yisit, whirl faled 'of adding new converts to iVEormonism. Bitt even here, where the Latter-Da~y Saints had come under asol- enin pledge that they should not be molested-~-eveivhere they found no~ abiding place. It was resolved to drive them from the region which their' own labor had rendered valuable, or exterminate the whole sect. Td' justify this meditated outrage upon the rights of native born Atrrerican citizens, the wildest tales were put in circulation against that'pe~ple. They were described as thieves and~ assassins~ Men of bad character, who had been expelled by the lVtormons, gratified their revenge by publishing. infamous reports. Strange. as it may seem, one of the most. 'effective means employed to inflame the public mind to the point of dri~~~ing these peoplee from the land~ whirh they had honestly .purehased,~was the report~ ~thati~no Mormon could be punished for his" crhnea.. it"is~ quit. prebablethat many,~both in Missouri t~nd~ Illinois, actually bdieved this charge; for we have~ yet~ in these States tis every~ whereelse, masses of dark, ignorant and uneducated minds, who are, ready to credit lany absurdity that esa be invented... This ~ eJaarge~ that the Mormoxiu~could hQt be 'tried(and ln~aished~ whe~ghy, r~ije4,. to e~p~i tlrem from Illinois, but that charge is fd8e. Thoman who; asserts that criminals cannot be punished in our country utters a base U U TIlE ThIALG OF MARY MAVEflIc~. 69 libel upon our republican government, and is unworth'~r of the nipzie of an American citizen. ~Fo Aeclare that under a republican government there is no power to punish robbery and murder-none to protect the innocent-is equivalent to saying that such a government as ours ir utterly worthless. This is acknowledging the truth of the charges which the despots of Europe bring against our free institutions. Nothing can be more' false than the assertion, that the Mormons, of any other class of men, cannot be tried, and if guilty, punished. Every Ameriran, not profoundly, ignorant, knows that when there is any fear that men suspected of crimes cannot receive justice in the county in which they reside, the laws themselves provide that these men shall be removed, for trial; tQ some county where no such feat- ~xis~s. Will any base slanderer of bur free institutions have the impixd~nce to assert, that the people of Missouri and Illinois were so utterly corrupt and debased, that a single county could not be found in those two States, where the people were sufficiently honest to punish a Mormon, or any other crim~ inal, if found guilty? The authors of these bloody outrages believed no such thing, for when Joe Smith, the Prophet and founder of that sect, voluntarily surrendered hiniself for trial in ~ county where he and the .Morrnons 'had not a single friend, did they try hinA 'No! lie was basely, cowardl~i murdered in prison. It is often asked why it is that respectable citizens applaud these outrages, and other specimens 9f American Lynch Law, if these deeds of violence and blood are not justifiable. - The answer is. obvious. For, 'the very same reason that respectable men in' France applauded Ro- bespierre and Marat, when in their hearts they loathed these monsters -a want of moral courage. But we will return to the narrative of passing events, from which a desire to vindicate the republican institutions of our country from slander and abuse has drawn us. Some dissensions had arisen among the Mormons themselves, and several families were on the point of abandoning the society, when in- telligence came to Zion, that a large band of armed men was approach. ing that town, to extermipate, themq In an instant every 'dissension was hushed, and'those who, but a moment before, were at deadly feud with their brethren threw themselves upon their knees at the feet of those they had wronged, and with tears implored their forgivenesss. Thero is nothing better calculated to unite people together, than the ex. pectatioh df ~ouring out their blood as ~nartyrs in the same cause. The Mormo'n village was fi~riously assaulted on ev~ry~id'e by an page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] THE TRIALS 01? MARY MAVERICK. 70 TIlE MOUM~ES8=j Ol~ overwhelming force. We are net writing the history of the Mormons, and ~shall give no details of that affair, except what belongs immedi- ately to the Mavericks. Mary, in the midst of the furious assault, continued to hide little Eddy behind the forge of a blacksmith shop that stood next door to their dwelling. Eddy, who had grown to be a boy of unusual intelli- gence and manliness of character for a child of his age, begged hard to be permitted to stand by the side of his mother, and share her fate, but this the anxious parents refused. Hardly had the boy been securely I)laced in that covert, when his father's dwelling was fiercely ass~iiled, and Maverick, pierced with no less than four rifle balls, fell across his- own door sill. Mary had just raised the head of the dying man in her lap; anl heard his last sigh, when a cry of exultation rose from the adjoining blacksmith shop. Eddy had been discovered, and was drag- ged forth by a young man, whose real name we shall conceal under that of Vorne. Mary, with all the energy of her soul, implored them to spare her child, her only child, all that was now left to her widowed heart, pointing to her husband, who lay dead at her feet, in a pooi of blood. But Eddy, even in this fearful hour, disdaining all supplications for his life, proudly drew up his form to its utmost height, and said,. "I am. an ./lmerican!" Poor, mistaken, deluded child-he had read the history of his country, and vainly supposed that the very name of "./Jmerican" would throw around his- rights a shield of adamant. But the proud claim of the boy, and the wild pleadings of the young mother, were alike disregarded. Vorne replied, with a coarse, fiendish laugh, "kill the young wolves, and there will be no o'ld ones!" Saying this, he coolly and deliberately brought his rifle within a foot of the child's head, and blew out his brains, sprinkling the clothes of the mother with the blood of her own child. Let no one suppose, even for an instant, that the sceiie just described is a fiction. For the honor of manhood, we do niost devoutly wish it were~ IBut we assure the reader that every incident related, however i~evohing, is strictly true. The slaughter of the father, the concealment and discovery of the boy, his proud claim, "I am am .,~mericam"-th6 reply of Vorne, and the blowing out of the child's brains before the eyes of the agonized mother, all occurred just as it is here related. No hu- man consideration would have tempted the writer to fabricate a fiction so revolting. But it is truth, and should be told. With rapid strides we pass over The eve~iits that followed, for we could K r~t dwell t~on them without awakening painful emotions in the bosora I 70 of the re erar~d rousing against the perpetrators of these crimes the, indignation ~f ~every true-hearted American, who prizes the free institute. tions of his native land. We shall likewise pass over the tearless ag~ny of Mary Maverick, who threw herself upon the dead bodies of her husband and child, and iq~- plored them in mercy to kill her also. Nor will we pause to describe her flight from *er burning home, snatching only from thence a small bundle, containing a few articles rendered holy to her by the remem- brance of little Eddy and her husband. For an hour, the widowed, childless Mormoness fled into the wild forest, nearly bereft of reason. Overcome with fatigue, she sat down ~t the mouth of one of he low, narrow caves ~o common in that upland region. Resting her weary limbs for a few moments, she tried to collect her thoughts, and inquiry~ what were the claims of duty; even in that fear- ful emergency Concealing her bundle as far as possible in that cave, with the intention of saving from the profane hands of strangers that which had been dear to her child, she departed, she knew not ~vhither. Women and children equally forlorn were fleeing n every direction, with no aim but that of escaping, as fast as possible, from their assailants. Mary soon joined a band of these fugitives, and sought to forget her own sorrows in her efforts to console those whose afflictions were heavier than her own. Destitute of food and shelter, they dared not solicit either in the vicinity of their late residence, and these helpless outcasts endured untold sufl~rings. But, as they proceeded farther from the scene of their disasters, on their way to the Mississippi River, they found that compassion had not yet forsaken the human heart. The sympathies of the better class of the people of Missouri were powerfully excited, and the doors of every respectable house on their route were thrown wide open to the sufferers. Their wants were supplied with a liberal hand, and no kind efforts spared to ~soothe their afflictions~ Though the public voip~. may actionn the outrages of "Lynch Law," yet every really honest. ma~ e~eora1~s, in tie ~ecret recesses of his own heart, the lawless deeds that b~irig down reproach upon our free institu- tions~ inforeign lands. ~ was emphatically the case in the present instance, and s~ympath~zing friends of the Mormons, as there~would have done for any other sufl'erers, sprung up on every side. T1~e most re- spectable people in Illinois took the lead in this xnanifestati6sytnpathy, and invited these homeless outcasts~ to settle i~ that State, on the bank of the Mississippi, not far from the town of War~aw: ~PJ48 ~;is l'e foun- dation of Nauvoo. page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] Mrs. Maverick was everywhere received with the utmost kindness. ~he tittered no coxhplaint~, atid 'never spoke either of her own wrongs and sufferings, or those of the Mormons, ~rhen she 'could well avoid it. She made no allusion, however distant, to her cruel bereavement of hus- band and child, mit attempted ~o appear calm, and even cheerful, that she might hide from the world the sorrows which none could assuage . Yet a single glance at her pale, subdued countenance, told every obser.' ver that the iron had entered deep into her heart. There wa~ a 1o~k of' uncomplaining sorrow, mingled with the unfailing gentleness of her tones and manner, that touched the. beholder. No one could see her, ev~n in a crowc~ without feeling a singular attractionn toward the pale stranger. A young merchant of considerable 'wealth, and of high stand- ing in community, at whose mother's house the young~ Mormoness found a shelter in the hour of her greatest need, felt that~ attraction irresistible. lie offered to the homeless widow his hand and fortune, with the assu- rance that her rdigious opinions should ever be sacredly respected. This generous offer the Mormoness declined with profound humility, but decidedly, much as she esteemed him for his many virtues. All the promise that he could extort from' her 'was, that she would accept from him any pecuniary aid that she might at any time find needful. The Mormoness, feeling the impropriety of remaining any longer un- der th~ roof of her kind benefactress, after this declaration of her son, was compelled, once 'more, to go out into the world, and seek a new home. With the Latter-Day Saints she knew that she would ~e~eive a cordial welcome, but they had lost their all, and found iLdifficult to provide even for their own wants. She resolved, therefore, to return; ds soon as possible, 'to the settlement ~f Sixteen Mile Prairie, and seek a home in the family of Judge Maverick, her father-in-law. ' Her thoughts had often turned toward them, and she knew full well that un- der their roof she would receive a heart-felt iec~ption, as a 'daughter dear to their hearts. ilut she had long hesitated' to return thither, fear- ing 'that ~he remembrance of other days, of herhusband' and child, 'would awaken, in that place, sorrows beyond evem~ her power of endurance. l3tit 'her heart had now been disciplined in the school of suffering ~nd r~signati6n, till ~rt length she could look with calmness ulion trials 'that would onc~ have bowed her to th~arth. " It was' a lovely day in Jui~e', when, sh~ reached, on her, solitary jour- ney on foot, the borders' of .the" settlement where she had fo~neAy' re- sided. A ihin, fleecy cloud ~uing 'like a transparent veil ~over ~th~ ~un, tempering his beams into the mildness of Spring. Nnmerqus c~t~lc ~JIB!~RIALO~MAitY MAVERICK. were scattereded iii groups wret ~the~~iastp~afrie.4, ~jd'~'. of w1i~atj ~t ripening for the' hat~vest, waved;i~th& sumrriej, breeze, like ~ unduistions of a}ake, whose bosoin i~ faintly stirred by the ~v ' Every object~she beheld was ~i sting, froni its assod~tiojj'~4~r times. Even the buzzard, sailing high i~i air over the pMitie, ivitli~o 'effort. but now. and ther~ just dipping bin bro~id winks, g~ive' a~ lair of quiet repose Wtlze scene. '- ' ' ' ~a~uy changes lio4 taken place in the sett~cment, sb~ce the 0'g w~li;with bet husband, and child, she ba~$ ,~'a tearful' die&'jq~w #rrns had been fence&b't from the prairie, $a~l heppy children wekeykiy- u~ around muriy2a\ 'e~tege that had risen tt~eince her dep&rthre~ 'X*er heart ~hro~bbedi Pai 11y44 spite of all her efforts to restta~ herfe~l- ing~, ~as she approached the farm and dwelling that bad ~n&& licen t1ieir~i. ~lt wae a trialto *lioli sh& had baked forward, iind~d"~rLdea. voted td'nerve her.hea*'to meevitunmoved. But the e~ort wt~s b~y9nd her power~ ~The, dw isng~iu~which she had once been ~o b~p~y was ui~w the resident~ pf the wily~ French, whose influence over her ~hnsbai~d's mind 'had~beer& eo injurious. There was the house, but all turound'.it, bow c)iange4.' The shrubbery which 'she had planted and loved t&tez~4, had disappeared. All was destroyed, except the few broken rem~aks of her former nurslings, that still survived the general wreck. ;Ai the door stood a' boy of the size of eddy, when he~ last roved, a happy i~hiM, amOng the flowers. But it was not her chili The sight wa~riore~thiin evep~ her'aul~dued heart,~ could lo~mg endure. Turning, her head '-aside, ~li~ralk~d ithtt~quicke~ed step, breathing &prayer that God would .fi~e~the~e'inurmuringa of her bruised hes~rtz'and enable her to i9r- give ~9i1 ~ enemies for 'the deep wrongs they~had' dori~her. The reception wbiih 'the~ wanderer *eeeiwd from the family of ~bor fa~her-in4aw was deeply afi'e~tlimg.' ludge MaveriekThng accustom~nd, 'ashe had, been, to control his emotions In the presence of otluers, ~threw ~iiius around his ~ ax~d wept aloud - '~e~fer before had even bi~ wife seenlmim titmus moved. 'Tl~e to~uitain of hi yin.. pa~thy9wsistiried to it~ lowest d~ f~eI't~ ~~ng~lo0& to his e~4~iti~e, ho sobbed like a child. ~*e ~pkh~e tEe' ted ~e~ongb~in~ *4 and, in a voice brokez~ I$~II~ ~; we e~e4, her tp l~hwue an&t cart, assuxin~ li' " i~4~oottosbel~e~'ber hea4,~sitigle ci~ust t~ ~ ~ '~4~t1~ ~ most objeot'ot his affectioix. 1~r&~i'the rest'o~h~ family ~ece~r~d t~weIce~e 'eqt~ly~d s~d' ~ordialtlmougli less affeei~lng. g page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] k T~en~teitI~ j~d 4by ~&t*l I 1*~MioId~ ~hat~n~aljuMen, ~ ii~ houlahe m~de~in4~pr~ei eIXMa~y, to e~bj~ct ~J~tJie yet ~ ~zqw~es ~ t~4eath of h&huabaftd~i4 ohihi, - ~The family would have pr~f ~4that M y~ehbu1d~enjoy ~an~ eMire exemption frota, all thi labors of the household~ and devbte~ hers~Jf ~x. ~i~ly jto ~a4h~g and' ethei literary pur~uit~; ~inp to thj~ she wo~ld'not 9ozi~e~4~ '~h9 r olved~oliye ~sef~Uyto ~ther~, ,**~ affi~c~i9zMia4~ot, her ojvinie~ abse~vaI h~r from the~ peif ~ of/ ~ ~ngl$~, 4n1~y/*he ~iad,~ev~r ~ t~ l~ier fpi~g~. (Ji4y, h1a~di~g those ~wh~ ~iee4ed h~r ~ssist~e~ by s~iot~ingi~he ~qr1~ws~o~ the aflli,4e4, 4by~en4~Irjng ~l1 t~e ~ qf life with, holy ~e ~t~o*i, ~4i4 ~he ~ ~T1W t~Ee ap~ 9bat~o~ ~ y~kp had~a'ffiicted hers ft~~~sc. p~u~poses~ Almost frd tbe~day~f her arrivaL at4he house of Judge Maverick, Morx~,on~ss took uponL herself no ~sxnult; shar&of th~Jabors~of the :household. She rose a~~dawn and~was aetiveiy exripkiyetlialh day long. Her mother-in~1aw wac an e,~eehlent house~kee~r, hit the indiistryand taste, of Ma~ry -~seon wr~ught a sehsi14~change in' the e~tabli~hnt~nt. It was the earnest endeavor of t'h~ widow, not only to render ~h~rse1f us4fPl, but to ~roim~te the happj4e~ss'of the family, hy~appearing che'eifiil, and sl~ ~nxjously ai~oided bringing t~p the~remembrance ~of her sorrows ,1 to~the minds oLpthers. ~or.thi'ee. months she remained here, perfdrmiiig~ most 'of the labors s~f' the htat~e.. But' though ~her step was light, aPA her veice cheerful, yetAier pale, n~elaneholy:brow, and mournful i~ye~ ~t~k de~ep 4M6'the ~hearts of the' whole ~fiJy. In' vain ~jid the kind, affectionate 'mother- ~in4 strive to ~aniah from her rnin4 alLthoi~gl4 of~the ~~s~rrows pf~ the 4ffii~tCA ~X~ry. ' That xn~urnful~face, with its ~w~eet, m~l~ucboly ~raile, ~as ever'before'hei~ ~nd a Ie~ig~h )aunWd ber very drepi~ ~Tlie Ite~lth of We ~i&h~rrin-1a~ ~eg4nto decline, i~nder ~his~cont~nizal~ e~cc~n~ent pf he A~p~th~r. MiIiy~ was no~ SJOW in d~c~cri~ the oai~s~ ofAhe dtoo s~id~s of her 1iei~,Iiiui' i~esolved~to seize the ~ iuni!y thMwould afibrd a plaL~ihile excuse for her departure, withqut1 rem it necessar~"'to ~sn' 'the" real vaiise.'~' ~'$u~h ziii bp~ortiAn4~ &s 9U~C Cl presented." " ~ ~ cli ~ a foieigaer, w~se r~za ~laiigh~e~'was nei~hbo4i~4 a ri They wereRolohs~ro~Jy ftttached to their pwu chureli. 'Duri~nj the year tb~y j~4 ~eqid,~4 it~ the THE TflW~ExA~ICK. 4 erjppo~tt~h~ i~sston~r an~*%ce~*t o~oh~Mar~r ~ft 4 witli the n~irt~M~ wedtow~rd~it~ ~ose, her4I~u~hts4tgni~d in~e ~ world ~ayon4 tI~e ~gmve.~ Di*i~in~ ~eIong ~ nig~*~ ~ often conversed with Mary upon thattheme: C~ ~ qu~itly, r~d~t~ h~r~ by ~ Weli~e)i~e~t~ fouiidia4hat ~e niy~qn~ohiti~ A~ the a~f~ ~Ij4 nr~sh~ 1~e~to~ ~ ott~ that ~ j Lpui~ w z~h~coul4~ r~ceivt th~ ~$rart~et~t~ of 1~ ~ remo~in~ba, Ia~d~iii:~*secr*4e4 earths The Wi~k~$ of hei~ a~r~ W~# sa~r~4 iz~ thei~y ~Mr&O~J~wyr4; ht~r mQther~ ~ ~84~0S* entreated by the daughter to atter4 her. This request '~v~ gr~~i4p~ T~ie 4~p~Auve of the~yo n~ ~ 4~4~e ~ vericJ~, was aget~tiona4e. an4 teo4uh CHAPT1~AR V. '~Trutb, orruihed t~ 11 ~' ear~i~ wi i~se s~,arn, ~ -, Bst~ etrZ w~a~Je~i, writII~tinp~in~ A. 4 And per&"~-Th~a.~t 4u4unIAi hex~ worship Orv theit drrivaLat.St. ~oui~;by~slb~v stt~g~, Mrs.~ ~O'~yr~ior~ avoi~I ~ noisb and~tamult~of acrowdeil eetrented~a bot~er ~z~I~tb*~ bordirs o~ th#~t6w4.~ A?~r~two weeks. h& d~ghtT~t'.~ health slowW 4 c1~d4illhier~piri~took~ita flight. Ixyhe~ as~nta th~ 4ying~gir~ expressed her warn~ thanks to Mary, for all that she had done. ~Lt~ O~JWyio coi4iilued ~tQ resi~le itt. t1~e. same ~1 dther ~t~ipj~, tko 1Vtor~ouess eox ented~oxezn~jn with hekf~x ~ ~ I~i the~idni~y~of the~E~uae '~QW~ scuu2ied h~y~1~4r*~ Q'Th~'ys~t ~ re~e4 in whiehT'the~e eha~w~e4 to be x~p4a~ii~t4l WJNi~~~ ~roi~ be~y4~rnL the buMp ~widI:tle omnd~aio~e~~ ~ J~4ia~~ A~Ws~i~, ~t St~ ~ She ~ay upon the ground, with nothing to protect her from the.;, p. K page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 1~tita - Tw*little girls, iialf~'naked, cowered aii~und the. ~d~coti@Ii of t~I~e inothe~ ~The equaws o~ the tieighboving tents w~4 ~rn withotit ooxnpaasion1. but oould render little a~si~tsace4 8i~ch ~ ~ Eormeriyjavge bodies of Indit~ris, ne&tly t~iy ~t~rj *a~pe~ iw the ~vipinity of St. Louis, to draw their gui- RUlItLOS, QX dl~poee sot' Qieir furs. - bet i~eiime ixz~procuring niedidai advice for the jioor woman, ~ and spent much of her thue iii attend. in~ Th~tw~i little daughters were not forgotten. She fur. nih~4 with a xiewilress. These children were never before the i~r~I -boa~atifl~l gatmexit~, and e#en Mary herself was amused at~0i~ I ~wi~nd~t and a~mirotion which they cast upon their simpler bttt'e~sli& gowns. The~dar1~ face of the si~k mother beamed with pritt~ ~f er~ehildrt4ri, and gratitude to Mary, as she turned her eye&freub onS t~ the 6tbor !he ~i~,krlj~4iai~ woman, with the skillful attendance of the Mormone~ tecover~d. She owed her life to the kindness if her white friend. No~ thing could exceed the gratitude of the poor squaw to her benefactress, and the thankfulness of4r~rwatta, untutored heart was manifested with all th~ fervor of nature, This band belonged to t~ie half'eivilized tribe of Shawnees, and resided in theinclian Territorj, be~rond the borders of Missouri. Thest~ Indians earnestly'eiitreated Mary, whose ~istoryby some means, they had partly learned,, 'to' accompany them home,' live w~h them. She could do so much good to them, they said, and besid gould teach their daughters. They would build her a house1 ev~n bet& 'than~ Ihat~ of the missionary, and provide for her support. The~Indiau whose wit'e' Mary had tended was an untutored savage, and ai4, "saved squaw~a1ifa~-.Indian no forget.-.halp make 'hous~ for whit. .que~w-h'tnt deer for her, and anybody~ hurt white squaw~, maybe l~e die quick." - '~Th~ M~rmonessideeply impressed with the idea that her labors would be useful to these Indians, and not unwilling to ~withdraw fromthe -so- citityof th~ ~nore eiviuized, accepted their invitation. - Wheni rs. O~. Diiryre diseovei~ed thatit was~vain to4ry to persuade her:ftoui acc~mpa~ ~ she procured from a friend ofher~ &recommenda- tiu&efMr& Mavetiuk to thel kindiwss of the mission fainil~. But, ~ k~wn~ to-either if them, a young- merchant wrote privately to the .a$ of that triI~e4 tt.~se~ly Mr& '~ttary Muver~ckwith e~rer~rthing~th.t 4biaessauid dr~w upon himfo~ zuount be*~*1iat -'-I 1ff O~iheirarrivaLat the Shawnee village, Mary tookip~ber residence ~Qr a time, ~n the Wissxo~ family. The Jndi~ns~ ~ttne W~ thei~ ~1:pn~se, set theziselyes earnestly at WO11~ to build her a ~ho W5~ net a little, surprised to find ths~t it bid fair tob~ far the hest in ~ l~e~ ThQ agent procure such 'material~ and workmen as the'Th~ans'couid not well provide. - The house was large, for it was designed ~y-Xtf for a school, as ~vell as for hei pirate residence In a short time the Indians becajije warmly attached to Mrs. l~&rer- ick, who was constantly among th~m; wherever an oppo~tun~tj ~f' d~ing good presented. A few weeks of earneSt' ~pphcatnon had e~aWed her to speak their language fluently, on all ordinary subjects a~& 'is ~4ded much to her influence. With the girls who ~tt~nded c~i9~Jit was a ~vonk of love to learh. Their d6rk fac~s bearne~Vw ~6nfIdence and' affection, I ~vhenever hey were turned toward their t~ch~er,~und she was known in tkn village by the Indian name which they ~f~ied ~on her, and which was one of the most affectionate terms in tli6 whole compass of the Shawnee language. Every wish of hers w~s obeyed by these girls, and, unconsciously to themsdves, they imitated her in everything, even in her gestures, and the tone of ~er Voice. She sdught to inspire -them with a love for the Irue and the bc2zutiful, as one -of the most effi~ctive means of improving their minds. '~he adorned the 'yard. of the school house with the shrubs and flowers that grew w, id in that region~ and it was deemed a sufficient reward to the most diligent and meritori- Gus scholar, to be permitted to assist her i~ these recreations.' The. im~ proveme!it of these Indian girls soon became visible in the netttness and taste seen in their own homes. 'But even there, where the Mormoness devoted herself to th~ slng~ pui~~ose of doing good to others, without a selfish thotight enteringlier heart, - she was not doomed tO escape ew.ry and detraction.' -Some whites oppose every attempt to instruct the 1ndians~ because they deem it injurious to their own traffic. Even the family of the kind-hearted. - pious missionary remembered that rshe was a Morgioness, and notall her deeds of 'charity and love, could induce them to look upon her with etitir. cordiality. JI~eports, false and g~ound1ess, began to be whispered-among the Indians, and a few withdraw their daughters 'from the school. All this' she met in silence, for she' neither sought nor e~pe~ted ha~ppiiiem from' any other sourc~j than the consciousness of having faithMly dis- charged her duty,, and no power upon earth could divest her~of that. 'She had seen ~~er husband 'and ~child weltering inth~ir own liPe~blqod, and liadrlii~d. After that~ iiivr trifiingto herse n~d eVery~other 'af~ flictio~ 1- / % page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 1 7 At this ji~netar~, anew ~trd~awfuI'calai~iity assaikd the Thdia~s. The A~ti# 6Iik~rb I*ok~ out in one of' th~'1a~gest 'an~ inoet~ powetftilof the distant ~i~iW of the West, spi-eading the utnVo~t alaPn, and threa~tett. inou~t~r~tinction. The ~witrr'ior, who had been the xictoi~ in a hint- de~~t~1its, p~ai1ed-at this neW 'and re8istless eneniy. Great numlets died iii ~. ~evLr 'hours after the attack, afid consternation wirs universal. AI~ who were able fled' from the unseen foe, to seek protection amoiig tiriy~ bf i~h~ 4i~tant tribes that would receive them. Whole families per- i~h~d in ~i$i' flight, and the unburied remains of the victims ~f that terriWe s~o~frge lay scatteredd over the plains. A party of near fifty, in- c1udirt~ men, w&men and children, fled to the Shawnees, who compelled them to ericatrip oX 'the distance of two miles from their village. It was invain that thes savages had 'fled'from the pestilence. Fatigue and 'terror predisposed them to the cholera, which broke out among them on their arrival, with redoubled violence. None of the Shawnees would visit their' encampnrenb and none of the afflicted tribe were permitted to approach thevillage. human appearance, the whole encampment ~was doozne4.. hi this emergency, the young Mormoness resolved to fly to die as~istarrce of these friendless savages. No persuasion could shake her resolution. ProcuriAg from the agent the few medicines prescribed for the cholera, she took a large bundle containing such articles as she 'would most need, and comitiendirig herself to the protection of heaven, she carefully closed the doors and windows of her house, which' she might never again enter, and then departed for the encampment of the savages. 'On her way,, she met the wagon of the mission family, who were hastening toihe white settlements of Missouri. They paused long 'enomfgh to reproach 'the heroic woman with "lempt'ng Providence," by rashly exposing her own life in such an enterprise. Unmoved by this detmnciation~steadfast 'in ~her purpose, she resolutely pursued her way. Death, in the frightful fo(~u o~ cholera, might await her, but, whether ~1ife or death was to be her lots,' she f~lt that the path of duty was always the.'path of safety, and the olily Oae., Great was the astonishment of these savages, when they saw a female ot beautiful form, apparently' twenty4oar or five years of age, in a snow white -attire~ ~mddenly appear' among them,'arid; in the Shawnee tongue, inform them that she caine to attend upon iheir sick. The smile with whichehe announced this unexpected' message, 'g&~e to'her pale counten- urce an ~expression such as they had'jever before seen; arid this,~witli ~he fa4'thatnio one had seen4her approach, inspired them"with 'the'belie~ that eho wits not a mortal. The Great 'spirit, pitying his ~d ildr~ THE 1~R~tAL8 ~ h~& s~rit down, to suocot' them in Their disfre~s, one of the ~tit~hei~f the~ SUm" They would have throwit tlwinselves at her feet~ ~M~1 ~1te~t, by * gesture of the hand, forbidden it. Joy and hope noW to 1 ~f the dark and sullen despair frito which they hail been puxi~e~ Tkk Mormoness went instantly to wtrk in aid of the sufferers~ The it~ cheerfully obeyed bet orders. She had the sick removed ifl tent, where she could have them all under her eye at once. did they swallow the nauseating drugs that she administered, within a word ~ inquiry, and in full confidence of recovery, for they~~believ~d there was life in every medicine administered by her hand. Uultnly, and with a light, quick step, ~the young Mormoness moved among~the sick, giving medicine to one, v~iping the cold, clammy dew~ front 'fhe forehead of another, and holding to the fevered 'lips of a third the cooling draught6, To~ all she spoke words of hope and consolation, that cheered and comforted their responding hearts. In a few'days, the sick were all convalescent. None had died since~ her arrival, except' those whom she had found in the' last stages of tht~t' fearful 'disorder. They now began' to be in want oP the neces~ri~ii ~? 'ife, aiA the Shawnees still prohibiting all communication with the ~i1~ lage, Mary dispatched a trusty ~messenger to her house in the night, to bring from thence her whole supply of provisions, which, hapPi~ for them, was not a small one. Ingratitude is not among the vices of savage Iif~. It is only ir~ t1~e society of the civilized and refined, that man repays the kludness of a, friend and benefactor with hatred. These Indians madb no loud and boisterous professions of thankfulne~ to t'he Mormoness, but gratitude., deep land heartfelt, be~xned in every look 'they .gave her. O~ie. of her patients was a savage of powerful frame. regarded among them as the~ bravest warrior of the tribe. ' None who recovered was so violently, at. tacked with the cholera as he. For some time jielay niotiouless, and ap. parently insensible, but,' though unable toniJve,~or 'artict4ate awoxd, he observed every movement of his kin& nurse, and s~w the untiring eft'orts she made in his behalf. ' In the very first day that lie ~was able to leave 'the: tt~nt of' the sick, and return to his own, after a short a~itence he ~rrn~ ~ and stood directly before the Mormoriess. He held In his hand a la~e bundl~ carefully enveloped in a neatly tainted fa~Wn's skjn, mid sai4~,,, hr his - broken English, "Pale-faced' squaw save ah4e~'yah's bfr~.4~4iye ikr - Great -.M~dicine.-~..great muck." Slowly~~unColding the k~ge~ ~4~hieh~ Mary doubted not was some trifling object rhich the Indians ar~ ac~ I I page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] ~, ~ - ?IIR MORMO~ES~; &I~, to adoVt as their ".ftfedkine," or Jlfanito~ what was her a~- ~9$i18h1rkeflt, when the last envelop was removed, to discover the very ~udle~ of little- Ed~ly's play-tnings, which she h~ad hidden in the cave, when fleeing from her burning 'home. "Wali-/ie-yal& saw 'rale-face at cave." Saying this, the savage drew close to Mary~ and;in / ~e he uttered, between his teeth~, a name that made the Mdr- ~no~-start, and a livid paleness overspread her cotanlenance. -It was the name of Vorne, the murderer of her child-not the name we have gwezvl~i~, but his real name, With a look of revenge and hate gla- ring iti hi~ burning eyes,, vbich seemed like those of the incarnate demon of~vengeance, the warrior added, "Wah-he~yah Avow kim-pale squaw nruch cry-.--rnaybe! ha! ha! ha.'-~maybc----ha! ha!" and with these i;mintelligitle exclamations, he left the tent. Mary wept long over her recovered treasures, novr the dearest object she had in existence, 'tar they once belonged to her child. They were he very play-things which she had s. often seen Lini play with, when he wasa careless, happy child, and she a happy ~vife and mother. They were all that was now left her of those happy days, and where is the b~reaved mother who will no(enter into her feelings, as she gazed upon these newly recovered relics? Yes! her husI and and child had gone to a bloody grave, without the form of ~ trial, and that, too, in a Republic that guarantees to evcry individual unlimited freedom of cor.~ science, and a fair trial by jury-a Republic upon whose flag i'~ embla~ zoned the Roman Eagle. Wherever the banner of Rhine played in the breeze, t/u'~e the meanest citizen found protection. Paul, the Apostle to. the Geatile'~ the preacher of a sect abhorred and accursed by the multitude, found instant protection under the wings of that eagle. When. he calmly, but proudly folded his arms upon his I reast, and said, "I am a Roman citizen," th~ haughty Satrap trembled on his throne, for well did he know, that if he dared violate the rights of the ILeanest, niost criminal of her citizens, Rome, in the language of one of hcr sons, "would hurl at his devoted head a lhunderloH." But does the Am~rican Eagle thus protect the rights of the free-torn citizens of our Repu~li~? A voice, from ra any a Mormon grave, from the Haze of unnuinb~red dwellings, end from the victims of Lynch Law in nu- merous other. forms, answers t'his question. It tells, trumpettongued, the protection i~~hich our institutions afford to the unpopular citizen, who most n~eds protection. '~, Mary remained with t1i~ savages till the last pmitient had recov- ered~ and~ the hand was preparing~ for their departure, when she re- THE ~RUZ0~O1 M*IW )flj~ICL I turned once mere to her-own house~'witji -tl~ intentioz~ ~f q~~ ing h& schooL 8he~ was received with every demon~tratioz~ Her brief absence ha4 taught them more sully lwr *o4h~a$ the parent~ who had withdrawrt their daughters confessed thaw an&sought to repair- the wronga they had. doje her. ~Jzts- few cot~ag~ was ugain liberally supplied- with ~y~ry~r~ee4ed p~ovzsi The s~rrowiul Mormone~~'who tliotig*it nozt~hly1ia4 ever niore re~ch her, was- desijued to receive an unexpec~p4. welcondle, and most.dear to her heart. A. brother -whozii s seen since she' beheld 'him on. his dep&riure fr~nii~her"fat s r~4 a -iner~ lad, had now grown almost tp manhood; and sought out ~ia o1ll~eted whom from '~nf retur~i witlilhim to the home of their~ tion to try ,to pers±~e ~ he h~d fondl~r lt~ved. 'It was hi~ ipt~~2. We will draw a veil, over the meeting of ihis brotEe~- and sieterafter so long a separation. '. , ., - '- - Gittlie second day after his arrival ~ary'an4 her brother visite$~a2:, si~k family, who rernded tt short distance out o~ the' village9 Wire ~ajr~ was beautiful, zztnd instead of' returning immediately home, they co~it~n. aed their walk along *hat was termed ~he "Shawnee trail tiJ&~th& last habitation was left far behind them, for Mary wi8hed t$~eIiow to her brother some of the wild scenery in that region. They were coni'arsing earnestly~ together upon the -subject of her returning home with her brother1 when a cry of mortal agony, that paralyzed all. their faculties, rang Through the still air. Again and again, fbr the third 'time, that cry burst forth in tones that froze; the blood -in their veins, and then all was still. In the next moment, a horse with saddle and bridle, Wt no rider, rushed wildly by. Hastening in the direction from which the anmial.came,-they -discovered, at no great distance, a mail lying upon the ground,~in a,~, pool of blood. As Mary drew near enough to disti~. guish his features, she started back aghast, horror-struck.' Evs~f ~ lineameat of that upturned face was engraved, upon her hear4 n~ that time could not obliterate.- Slie had. seen it often in he~ d* The - wounded man was P"orne, the murderei of her child. K - ~-With a powerful effort, s6 controlled the smotiqns ~whi~1i~i night ~o revolting to her, inspired, 'and stooping down, ata~eJ~4A~e~ blood ihat flpwed :froxn three deep, and apparently, mortal ~ - While she l~ent over the wounded- nia)t, 14 a voice from the adjoining thick-ct, which she cogniz~d1~ s~ant,~ as 4hat~of tb, savage warrior. ".RI& ha, mceybg" waa uttere4, and 'tlwn-foIl~tved the Indian war-.whoo~i, the yell of victory. lIe had- p~tid'*hat in his savage page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] rded ~e~d~bt dti~, t~hia. benefactress. JWbad Jaidf~h~ ~rostrte~izi~ d~ath~zt1d4 vitith ihe feeling#&t he~h~i d9ti~ ~ ~aiA~ d~edv~he pi~i4ed~ toj~itrhis~bandl ~1zes4y ot~ 4heiv~, ~dn~h' ikeps~N~, wee cji~it~ dead: FI~ii~ad ~eii ~$ot~ ~**n h~,ith an' ari'6~; ~d~received ee~r~r~ ,~y one bf ~ WOtube ~r lir6tlier - no intimation that she knew~' the'n~ine of tl~e ,'Qr. had' 'eves s~n_~iim: before,' the" ~or~xie~s had"'iid '~ ~ dzfiiltyi roctiring liisaidan& that of others, to' remove huxii to her house. )~si~s ~ 4ee~ wo~unds whidi the appa~ntly"'dyi~g~ ~a~' had' re~eived,~the loss~ 9f ~tood was~ ~o great that th~Ie~t ~v~ralIe ~urn in his case wou1~ inevitably be fatal. Siic wa'~ ~ ~54i~V h~. ~ r~t~d several times on his way to her house, a~id idhin~'but ihe '~~A4tI ~~i1a~nt care on her p2irt enabled him to survive the agitatioh6Iiii~ 'r" ~mo'vof. II7he exhaustion which he endured was~so greaw'that for"hwairs a~fte~ hi~arriVtiI' 'he lay' uptui 'the "bed itisensi~le. Tw&~ 4ong~ 4veuli~s ~" inte~e. stiffeiing ~to~ the woundedd man, and of. &onstatit w~itchirtgVday~' and nigh ~alternately by Mary and her brother assed'hy' bsfwetli~ vigorous"'' itu~io~ of Verne triumphed,, and 'a decidedly favoriib1e~ di~in~'~t~ok pl~ce. All ~he 'thought~' and emotions of the' wourid&d rn"an- WerenOW no ~ -concentrateditpon his oWn -sufferinge, ~tnd' he began to 'feel ~ in~ other" topiCs. ~ At fireye'~ary' inquiry'~was.' aiisv~~ered by forbiddi ire, in hiss weak'condftion~ 'to -converse~ Mi he gre'~v "stronger this ibitiom wac unavailh~g~' ~ndiMary found it" ne~essary 'tb acquaint hun With the condition 'in.whi~h'~h~ was discovered~ hie renloval to her house, and, in short, answer' aThthe numemousin~- qt~iries 'that he made upon v~ri6us other topics. Vor~ne~was deeply seiP: bI& of the ~di~hflerested: goodness ~of' his- benefactres~,and gradually ~$rom' her all' of h~'pOst history that 'she chose to:rel~te,whiCh'w. ~'litile'rxior~'thatV'the4~att "that 'she wasa Mbriii6ttess and a ~thpe peouniary"ve~ources, '1~ut depended upon' nhe~ avails "of' hero I I'r-~upport. "Thu" abe '~t~fully concealed fi~om~ 'hiinthot~ she hiut~ 4~at th~ ~ofli~n ~ in is~ouxi1 ~~nd~everytNng heN husband '~nd child. , - Out of all~. ~vouads healing dai1~, ite 'h~d~ fell leisure to tu~rtv all 1tls~c~ ~as~p~esing aro~i~rd~him.~- Oon~hue4 to the nar~ow limits ~I*" "'' ~ to~nKinv~lid, Voro~eobs~rve4 every movein~nt ~ the .yow~g~~WidnW.~ aa~saW ~wjtb'what a ioas'~n4 ~unw~ayie4 '~tte~iti~~ slne'watcJdrqve~ THR~44qRY~~V~ERICL birk. ~I ~ dp~e for ~biz~ar*I w*~ 9Pn~i N', ~ her~disintere*d kir~dhern5 ~i4endrgy ~ tw~d Juis~if~ 1~ whed:ckver kzbn ~&muny days and nigln~ kwith ~ ~whiv1v ~ew ~ss1ers, ,woLu1d~ bestow upon &b 1~ke wo~44 ~e ale~ping~ in his~grav~. ~Hei p~ie~ 6ee e~wi~ b~v~e tha~ 'ever zue~tzhis view. ~To bim~ tl~e~e ~vt~ ~ in her manners, and the sound ~of het light~fn~t4 ~4~#~d)# '~ '~' 8.Jly~ 9fl0 eJse,~ 'mad9 hi~ ~heart beat with~ a' ~quioke~ P~i~ emotions every day grow mo~e ~nd more intense, tiWl4s ~ cycry pa~ion of his. souI-~-was concentrate4. wit~4e z~i1~ K upon her alone. , He had 'hithertp ?egarded The marriage institution wilh~ the ~coi~&and contempt which men dfbase"lives and~corrupt~ principles always ooneaive 'forihat relation, b~a now-he resolved to marry the' widow. g2 M~otnioness, but wheir once. his wife, he ceuld~ easily compeL h~r ~o abandon her religion. He had accumulated~ a'~small fortunee ~by bis dis.. honest~trade with the Indians of various tribes, and he ~wo~ild ~4~y it in., oe 9f, ihe ol& State~ far from the. ~ea~h of the twer~gi*~ ~rrows of those~ whom he had defrauded. He determined, )iq~w~ver~jouo disclose his feelings to the young' widow till he, had entirely y~d. But the burning passiowthat was x~qw consu~ning hi~i. he, had no '1o~iger tl~e ~power to control, and~alI his previous res tiqr4 yielded to th~ aviv. iety to learn his fate at once.j one daywhen Mary's brother had star~4 tq g~on ~n~ir for h~is ~sister, abo~it two. miles distant, and would :nQVretu~'n for so~e~h9urs, Yi~rne seized the opportunity of declaring to lAe~'hi~ passion, and ~iskipg 1~er hund in marriage. ', - It ~was some time before the ~Mormoi~ss fully ~xndersto~d~hi~ nW~. ing, so foreign from ~ hi~r ~thou~h'ta~ and~peetations w~ ~ ~$~a idea of such a 'declaration. lW1teri~he 'I lly~ozrx~relLendedth~kte of his words, no language can describe the loathing and her ~$li~h till~d her '~whe1e 'soul. The ~wh~~d ,noeked'~at~, h~ wil4*~agoni. *~zing, heartrending ple~ for ~ life 'of, ller~ chil .~ mh~b1~r ~out that' child's. brains before her fa~ce, ~ ma1~ia~! ~e~y thought of it~inad~~ her ~ ~V*)~ r~e ~d ph~ f~lt~fer Vor~ie the :unutterabh loatlgn~J ~ ~ ~9, ziot av~n when t~ 'coJd.lAoqd~d ~ ~ ' ~urnpl~ oyerAI~e bloo~ly corpse~9f her h~b~i4 ~4~chii1d, 4~4~she~pe1 for h$zn such .~itterabIe h~r d4eiou~~ ~ ~$er ~'1 page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] * ~ ~OJ~T~; OZ ~ frtiWae quirete& with the intensity of bet' otnotieris, li~t'1ilo6dlese lips ~ed~ but no sund~aled, and. her hand wasin~rohint&tilY tl~r~wri out, liX~eim~ in the iriglitmare, who seeks to rdnff~ome ter- rUle nioiietet'. Vone gased upon her in mute surprise,- yet~ sa far from .ris1~ectnXgtbe nature of -her emotions, he ascribed the wilduessof her ~c0the'me1pqCted~OP of the proposa~~ which his~overweening - vani~~r told him cenltl tiot but be highly gratifying to a widow as poor -ea she ~was, and aij Mormoriess besides. * The door opened, and Mary's l4rother, who had met the man he. was going to~e, entered. The ~pell in which all her faculties seemed loun&was instantly dissolved, and drawing a deep sigh, like one just awakened from a hideous dream, she rushed from the room. The command, "Love your enemies, do goo4~ to -them -that persecute you," were no unmeaning words in the creed pf Mary Mayerick, -and she earnestly endeavored to fulfill the precept, and feel for her remorse- -less persecut~r5 the - spirit of -- Him whose dying prayer for his mur- derers wasj- ",Fcdher, forgive them." - - The trial of attending upon Vorne, which before, Mary, at times, found lii~rdly endurable, was rendered doubly irksome by this declaration. l3ut 0till, it was her duty to forgive, and render good for all the deadly wrong-he h~d done her. - She now carefully i~oided being in the presence of Vorne when her brother was absent, and thus afford I him no opportunity of renewing his revolting proposals. 1~ut she con. not always have the protecting presence of h~f brother, and about a eek after the scene just related had trarispiied, he found her alone, -a I again made the ofrer of mar- riage. She was now prepared for the vent, and preserved a command over her feelings. Without giving him any intimation of her acquaint- ar~ca with- any portion of hi~ previous history, she mildly declined his proposal, alledging no other season than her determination, -her mialter- able determination, never again~ under any possible ~viscwnatancea, to xnarrjr.-- Greatly was he disappointed, for he had entertaine4 not a doubt of her willingness-to exchange poverty for comparative affluence. He com- bated her ie*~ltitiori with every nrgnxnent that he thought might have an itxfluent~e -uppn herinind. l~emembering that she was a Morinonees, the idea ati~tz%~Ic hiudhat her objections arose fror~i that source, and he professed great e~te~rn f6r that sect, and-promised that he would himself join theta. To- gain her -baud, he - hesitated riot to prezrdue~ to ~ip~t* with a seet which he had - persecuted- to bloods - TE~ TItIALB -OP )I~RY*A~ERIGK. * fow~d that -ever~tkis - i~mi~tion~h, WI~4~1 110 - 4i~i ~t~lu~ke her - 4eter brolce out into ~stonrL passion, in whi - 4e~dly th~e~ts wer~. n~i~l~d with profe~7sions of love, nlri~iost to fren ~ Refusii~g t~ accept ~her refusal ~ decisive, he told - her that, he would giye ~ier~ we~ Lot fiction upon the subject, at the close of which he d~ect l~fi~-4 an~~1ver. To this she agreed, and would have again ~&i1ii~4i~k neither time nor any circumstance could change her mind, but tluis. prevented her from uttering. - - - - - On the return of her brother to the house, Mary took him ~ and, ~lrnVing first obtainedd from him asolemn promise tb.~t~he would ~ -~ not attempt to avenge her wrongs, - she infonne4 - him that Vorn~wa~ - the murdererr of her child, and acquainted him with his proposal of mar-~ * riage. - We will not de~,ribe the emotions of- the brother. It was enough j that he had Sworn Aot to avenge his sister, and the murderer should be left for ~punishment to the- tribunal of- Heaven. - - The wounds of Vorne were rapidly healing, and in a week more, if no unfavorable symptoms should arise, he wouldbe able to remove front there with perfect safety. - - It was settled between the brother and sister that their patient should depart on the day appointed by himself for his final answer The week whose hours were so anxiously nu mates of that dwelling slow rolled by. - inhered - by all the in- The Ynorning of the day ar- rive4 on which Vorne expected a final answer. From Eome 4~ause or other, he had become doubly confident that after a week more of rued. itati4~ upbn the ills of poverty and dependence, her answer would accord With his own wishes. Hardly had breakfast be en Aispa~hed on the morning of that event- Liii day, when a surninons came for~ary to - attend the bed-side of a dyin~woman. It was near sun-set when she returned. SpP~r passeij1 by without - any allusion to the subject. With trembling anxh~ty, - ~he Mormoness saw the~hades of night descend, and the dre4i~is draw near. - Her heatt beat violently as she lighted ihelam~up~amj~l&~d it upon her rustic stand, which ~he drew to the middle &ftli6orn. having done this, she retired for a few moments to her ow~ti to colleci her thought; and implore the protection 9fthe~l~oet 1 - -- ~ - On her return, her brother; who had been -pre~ent all ~e ~ arose, and, in compliance with the previous arrangement yirhich he~4i secretly made with his sister, left her alone with Vorne, ~His - departu~ page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] TUE M0RM0NI~SS; OR, from the house aflbrded the latter an opportunity most ardently desired, of conversing with the wido alone. After a paus~ of a few minutes, during which the lVtormoues3 could almost hear the beating of her own heart, Vorne introduced the sub- ject ever present to his thoughts. He told his Jove, and told it in burn- ing words. That he felt for the widow all the deep and absorbing emo- tions of which his wild, impassioned nature was capable of feeling, was no factions~ Her gentleness of soul, so unlike his own, her soft, pensive, melancholy air, and her unceasing kindness to him during the long days and nights when his life hung by a thread, had awakened in his turbulent, impassioned bosom an affection for the Mormoness, which he felt would be the ruling passion of his soul to the last hourof his existence. To this ardent profession, the Mormoness calmly, but firmly gave a repulse. Not even yet believing her decision unalterable~ he spoke of her unprotected condition after her brother should depart, and of the wealth he had acquired by trade. As he proceeded, his voice rose wit1~ the increasing excitement of his mind. He at length averted to her connection with the Mormons, and his generosity in proposing to unite himself with one who belonged to a denomination so unpopular, so horrid by the public. He would take her to a far distant State, where her former connection with them would be forever unknown. In the excitement of his feeli~igs, he had unwittingly confessed his deadly hatred to a sect which he had proposed to join, and, 'unkrzowii to himself, touched a cord that vibrated to the profoundest depths of her heart, and.brought before her mind's eye, in all the vivid Jn~ies of truth, the fatal scene when her agonizing prayer for the life of her child was received with a fiendish scoff. Even then, anxious to spare the murderer pain, she toLd him again that her resolution was unalterable, and begged him to depart in peace. Not satisfied with this, he still sought to shake her resolution. It was not till then that the Mormoness, finding other means of no avail, told him that there was an obstacle to her union with him-a barrier be- tween them, wide and impassable as the gulf of fire that separated the rii4 man in the Gospel from the bosom of Abraham-and again most eaz'uestly implored and entreated him to depart in peace, without making ~iir~er solicitations or inquiries. ~ storm of passion arose in the bosom of Vorne, and broke forth wildly and fearfully as the hurricane of the tropics; and he demanded. in the most violent manner, to know what that obstacle was. Know it THE TRIALS O~? MARY M4VERIOK. 7 be would, d trample it down, even at the risk ~f his life. The Mor- monass, ala~ 4~ violence, ar~se from the table, with the intention of Ie~viig the~oomn; '~Vorne instantly s$ng forward to detain her by -force, and, in his attempt to seize her ~rmn, oversee the lamp and extin- guished the light. In an instant, a sight met the view of Vorzie, which rivited him to the spot, as if he were transformed into a marble statue~ and his eye-balls glared with intense horror. On the opposite wall of the room, directly before him, he saw the Zion o~the Mormons. It was noon-day. An armed mob, most of whom he instantly knew by name, rushed along the principal street. Across the door-sill of a cottage lay a ~ man, weltering in blood. The scene changed. A youth, hardly twenty- one years of age, in whom Vorne recognized himself, was dragging a lad of noble bearing before the door where lay the dying man, the child's father.t A. lovel female who stood by the side of the bloody corpse, appeared to in agony for the life of the child. He now knew her an a sister's It was the woman who had watched over him with care-the woman to whom he owed his life.. He young man spurn the imploring agony of that mother, and de- liberately blow out the brains of her child. Every scene was so true life-like, it seemed to Vorne a living reality. All was now explained. Everything was now clear to him as noon- * It~ was her ~chiId that he had murdered, ~'without imagining that killii~g a Mor on would ever rise up against him. He it was who had & t....*i'~ wantonl~r oerer~tn~t woman of heA~ last hold upon life. And knowing t and bearrig the wound evei~ mo t in her bosom, she had devoted days and nights to his' recovery. All thisj past through hi' ~id/witli the swiftness of a flash of lightningg, and [writhing with an- guish of soul which few beings on earth are capable of feeling, he ex* claidied, "0, 1am accursed GQd and man-.--my punishment is grea- terlkanlcanbear!" The brother of the Mormoness came into the roon~i ~with a.light, arid led his almost inanimate sister to her own apartment, and instantly re- turned. Stepping to the outer door, he called into th~ house of anIndi- an, who stood withotit~holding Vorne's horse, which Wa~ e nipped for a journey. then addressing himself to the latter, h~ said, o , your horse is at the door-all your things are deposited in your this man will conduct you to a house, which is not far distan pass the night there, and in the morning pursue your journ part in piece. Vorne listened to this speech like one but h~l*~ ed from sleep, and mechanically followed the 'Indian. WithQut? 'N 1 C page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] TIlE MORMOY~SS OR, ~* of bidding ftdieu, or of uttering a single word, he left, ,~orever, tho %iouse, where, for a long period, he had received~~yx.~t1tentien in the power of kindness to bestciv~. On the ensuing morning, at the earliest appearance oI~ light, he arose I~r~in his sleepless couch, mounted his horse and before the sun had risen above the long line of forest which bounds the distant landscape on the east of Shawneetown, he had left that vU- lage miles behind him, on his way to the States. The exciting events of the past night had not been unfelt by the Mor- moness. The death of her husband an4 child, with the sorrows through which she had passed, were all presented before him, and she felt as if she had been wading through that troubled sea for the second time.-.--. Her long confinement at the bedside of the wounded man had already impaired her health ~o seriously, that her constitt4i~pn was unable to withstand the rude shock which the last night had ginr her. * The means by which her brother had thrown the~e ~ epresenta- tions upon the ~vall, by the aid of the optical instrumez~c~ r ed his sister, in memory of her child, needs no explanation. The were painted by herself, long after the occurrence of the event portrayed, and were true to the life. Every feature of those scen~swaa too deeply traced upon her heart ever toThe obliterated. In the morning a fever was preying upon the life-blood of the Mo inoness. In a few days it left her, for the fuel that sustaineUts res was consumed, and a languor, the unfailing harbinger of app)~oa&hing~ dissolution, pressed with lea n weight upon her he~r~. She ~elt that her clays were numbered, nd theisummons was one bfj~y s daughter of affliction. Since that fearful day when all sh~ held ~iiu~st - dear was torn from her embrace, but one hope, one aim, one tobje%~ life reconciled her to existence. Henceforth she lived, only that ~he might do good to others, confidently trust g that the afflictions through which she might be called to pass, 4ike a fiery furnace, would purify her heart. To do good to he~ enemies, to return the anxious care of more than a sister to the man who had bereaved her of an only child, she hoped would be acceptable to Him who prayed for his executioners.- Daily did sh fed the influence of sanctified affli~tions desce$ upon her. heart, ~iItI s the dews of Hermon, fortifying her in the discharge of all , and preparing her for Heaven. ~t mournful scene, the welcome release tfo this woman of many *as near at' hark~. She prayed for all her friends and rela. '~or heir methei', in the far-off home of her childhood, her own ~hd ~i~x~th~t, upon whose bosom sh~ had so often slept, for lier~ she pray. A. TifE TTtIALS OP MART MAVERICK. 9d with an earne~ness which touched every heart. She prayed fervent.. ly for t~he Mormons, and for their persecutors, and for all who had wron~- ed them or her. And now she felt that ~lie had done with the scenes of earth, and stood on the fines o~4e~Pirit lrtnd. For many minutes she lay motionless, her eyes closed. The e at her wrist had ceased, and not the slightest breath stirred the light doWn of the feather held before her pale lips. All thought her spirit had de. parted. Suddenly she opened her eyes, and gazing upward, her anna extended as if to clasp some object dearest to her heart, she exclaimed, in tones of rapture, "Husband! Eddy! I come ! Receive me again I to your bosoms, my husband and child! I come! I come!" Uttering these words, the lone sufferer was at rest,.and, w~ trust, received a crew~ of rejoicing from j~im whose command is, "Love your enemies!" Three weeks after his departure from the Shawnee. village, Vorne discovered in the vicinity of St. Louis, wandering about like on~ i~u~w~uuera~, or who has lost his way. A relative of his took charge aM ~his effects. In a sl~ort time it was round necessary to cha±i~ o prevent him from committing suicide, which he had twice attempt. any days and nights he sat sullen, muttering wildly and~ 4 and to himself about the Mormoness, after which a change came 5 mind, and he raved and howled in the most fearful his friends were compelled to consign him to a mad-house. There he yet remains. The physicians who have attended upon him ye not the slightest hopes of his recovery. Wild raving, hopeless re- ~he vultures of Prometheus, are ever knowing at his heart. of the boy, and the agonized supplication of the mother, are to his mind. Nor has even insanity torn from his mind a t of kindness which the afflicted Woman had bestowed upon him who had b~ti~ved her. He remembers it all-his own crimes, and her heaven-born charity in returning good for evil-and he will remember it forever. When he has passed the confines that divide earth from the spirit land, the memory of his crimes will survive fresh, and green for- ever.
