THE CHARLOTTE MESSENGER
VOL. IV. NO. 6.
THE
Charlotte Messenger
IS PUBLISHED
Kr ery Saturday,
AT
CHARLOTTE, N. C.
In the Interests of the Colored People
of the Country.
Able an-i well-known winters will contrib
ute to its columns from different ports of the
country, and it will contain the latest Gen
eral News cf the day.
Ths Messenger is a first-class new sjiaper
ami w ill not allow personal abuse in its col
ix It is not sectarian or partisan, but
ndependent—dealing fairly by all. It re
serves the 1 iglit to criticise the shortcomings
of all public officials—commending the
worthy, and recommending forelection such
m»*n us in its opinion arc best suited to serve
the inteiests of the people.
It is intended to supply the long felt need
of a newspaper to advocate the rights and
defend the interests of the Negro-American,
especially iu the Piedmont section of the
Carol in as. I
SUBSCRIPTIONS:
(.4/ icays tn Ad ranee.)
1 year - - •. |1 50
months - -» . lim
♦» ni"iirhs , 75
inontlis - ► - 50
2 months - . -an
Single Copy _ - *5
Address,
W..C >ir SMITH Charlotte HC,
The original of a long-lost letter,
wholly written by Gen. Washington,
h:is recently Ihjcii found while searching
for otln-r documents in the State Paper
pep u tment of ih'» Newport (11. t.) City
Hall. It was written in acknowledg
ment of an address from the citizens of
Wwpoit, where he arrived for the second
and last time in 1700, a year after his
inauguration as President. The docu
ment is of considerable historic value,
anil of great local interest, more particu
larly as it has hitherto escaped the notice
of the biographers of Washington. It is
written on both sides of two quarlo
pages of the large letter paper of the
period, bcung altogether in the distinct
and readable chirography of the Presi
dent.
f The Amerietri Cu'lintfor, of Bo don,
■says: “Land agents and other schemers
represent to thus*. 1 of oar New England
fanners who are not always satisfied
with their lot that Ibiko nis the perfect
State, with every advantage and no
drawbacks. Yet some of the Vermonters
who were inducer! to sell out their Ver
mont farms and move to Dakota arc now
writing mournfully of th° lack of civil
ized comforts, of the severe climate, of
the blizzards, of the hailstorms and
droughts, of the lack of postoffice facili
ties and regular mails, which are the
marked features of that distant Territory.
Hod barns and dug outs, rendered ncceg
snry ns a protection from cold and wind,
«rr* a poor exchange for the neat, tidy
lets of New England farm buildings.
No one section of the country enjoys all
the advantages, yet none are better adap
ted for enjoying life and rearing happy
ami intelligent families than New Eng
land and NcwYork/^^^^^^
The Philadelphia JUtord discourses
ibout the cholera in this way: “Cholera,
which has its permanent home in India,
has show’ll no sign of its existence, and
the more dreadful plague of yellow fever,
which belongs to this hemisphere, has so
far barely touched us at the Florida Keys.
Be knee has long since miintained that
Asiatic cholera has its origin in the filthy
habits of the swarming populations of
the East, and experience his amply de
monstrated the truth of theJlheory. The
greatest ravages of the disease and its
most frequent recurrences have taken
place in regions the inhabitants of which
have ignorantly or wilfully disregarded
all sanitary precautions. Filth in the
air they breathe and in th“ water they
drink has generated in the crowded cities
of India the fatal germs of a disease
w hich, in its devastating march, has slain
millions of men. But the conditions
favorable to the development of cholera
and epidemic diseases sometimes exist
in civilized cities far r«*ni« te from the
East. Populations that are provided
with pure water, with good drainage,
sod the other means for carrying off
accumulations of filth and garbage, have
little cause to fear epidemic attacks.
Now is the time when the public au
thorities in all our seaboard towns, and
the people, themselves, should use the
greatest vigilance so as to remove and
destroy every foul agency that might
propag.ite condition!. Should
the germ of Asiatic cholera be wafted
arrow the peas its dedro/iog pow r
would then be arrested. ”
MULLINS, THE AGNOSTIC.
AS TOLD B «* DEACON STILLWATER.
His name was William Mullins, and
He bad a sneerin' way
Os turnin' his protxvjei l ? op
At everything you'd say.
“Wall, now-, ho tv do you know?* mid ho
“Humph, now. how do you knowi”
The it closed the argument
It wasn't by no means slow.
Yon might lie talking social like
With fellows at the store %
On war or politics and six h.
And you might have the floor
And be a gettiu* it down fine
Provin’ that tilings was so.
When Mullins would stick his long nose »n
With “Humph, now-, how do you know?"
I seen that critter set in church
And take a sermon in,
And turn his nose up in a sneo.-
At death and grace and »?n,
With no regard for time or place
Or lealms of endless woo,
He-J rise and burst the whole thing up
" ,th “Humph, now, how do you know? 1
He cut his grass whene'er it rained,
He shocker) his wheat up green,
He cut his corn behind !h- frost,
H*- b°P; tfasnllus lean,
e his stacks the big end up.
corn rri!*s big end down;
**Uronlcnl as Mullins' roadside fenco'*
Whs a proverb in our town.
The older he got the wus he grew,
And crookeder day by day;
The squint of his eyes would w-ind a clock,
Ilis toes turned out each way;
His boots mid shoes were botli of them lefts.
The rheuniatiz twisted so;
But if you s iid he didn't look well
He'd growl: “Now, how do you know?”
And that darned grit led to his death—
He was on the railroad track,
Crossm’ a bridge: I heard the train
And yelled: “Mullins, come back!
The train is round the curve in sight!”
Says he, “Humph, how do you know?”
I hel|icd to gather him up in a pail,
The engine scattered him so.
1 think it's l***»t to have more faith
In every*lky concerns
And not. lie alius a snoopin' round
To git behind the returns,
A plain statement will do for me,
A hint instead of a blow;
A coroner's jury may fetch out facta,
But it's lather late to know.
—Chfcaao -Vries.
Stanley Brown’s Romance.
The announcement of the engagement
of Miss Mollie Garfield to J. Stanley
Brown makes public a romance which has
for some time been known or suspected
to the friends of both. If the sharp
eyes of watchful women are trustworthy
it is the culmination of a long attach
ment on the part of Mr. Brown.
When Stanley Brown and General
Garfield were first brought together
Brown was a young stenographer, with
whose expert nets? General Garfield was
delighted. He was a very quiet, rather
too modest young fellow of nine
teen. General Garfield thought he had
found a treasure in the young man, for
his experience with some committee
clerks had been somewhat unpleasant.
He found Brown punctual, quick, quiet,
steady, and possessed of one qualification
that especially pleased Garfield. He
minded his own business. Garfield ap
pointed him clerk of his committee, and
in that capacity Brown was thrown very
much with the Garfield family. They
were then living in Garfield's much
mortgaged house, where General Gar
field did a great deal of work.
After his election to the Presidency
Garfield was urged to appoint one of
several young men as his private secre
tary. One of these was disposed to be a
politician on his own hook; another was
a bright but extremely voluble young
man, and still another rather prided him
self. somewhat to Garfield's amusement,
on his resemblance to the General.
Garfield, however, said that he wanted
as hi- private secretary in the White
Home no politician who knew more than
be did, and no amateur statesman. He
wanted simply a faithful young man
who would attend to the duties of the
Executive office, who had a close mouth
and knew how to mind his own business,
an l lie had just such a person in mind.
Nobody knew who it was, and when after
hi - in mguration ns President it proved to
be young Stanley Brown,there was a good
deni of surprise among the politicians.
Brown was then only twenty-one years
aid. He was wholly ignoiant of politics,
and knew very little of politicians, ex
cept what he had learned as Garfield's
secretary As his taste did not run
to {toliticH he paid little heed to |K»litical
matters, and this was exactly what Gar
field wanted in a President’s private sec
retary. Brown was then a tall, slender
young man. His hair was very light and
curly, his eyes blue, his complexion rosy,
and there was just a struggling hint of a
mustache growing. He seemed so youth
ful, immature and unaccustomed to the
ways of the world, and especially such
an innocent boy to put io froot of subtle
! politicians who daily frequent tbe feecre-
CHARLOTTE, N. C., SATURDAY, AUG. 20, 1887
t»ry's office In the White House, that
some of Garficldfe friends feared he had
made a mistake. To these Garfield al
ways replied that hte knew thte bßy, find
that if lie was immature he was discreet.
Garfield treated Brown more like a rela
tive than like an employee, and with the
rest of the family he was looked hpon as
one of them.
When General Garfield went into the
White House Mollie was a schoolgirl of
fourteen. She was a charming miss then.
She gave promise, not of great beauty, but
of litmo-t attractii encss of face and form,
and in disposition was called by all her
associates one of the sweetest of girls.
Her father's place as President never af
fected her simplicity of manner or her
cordiality with the humblest of her mates.
She used to go tripping up Fifteenth
street to school with a lot of schoolmates,
dressed more plainly than almost any ono
of them. She was a merry girl, possessed
of some of her father's playfulness and
love of fun,and even at that time thought
Stanley Brown the most manly young
fellow whom she knew. At least so she
told her mates. It was simply the ad
miration and liking of a school-girl, too
young to have ever had a thought of se
rious affection for anyone beyond the
family circle.
Miss Mollie’s most attractive features
were remarkably expressive and beauti
ful eyes and n most charming smile.
Those who were accustomed to see her in
all moods said there were times when she
looked very like her father, and the re
semblance to Grandmother Garfield was
regarded by old family friends as very
great.
Kveri at lliat scliool-girl period Brown
found great pleasure in Miss Mollie'scom
panv, and though he was usually thi
most diffident of men in women's society,
lie was wholly at case with Miss Mollie
He was fond of her, and the wise matrons
of Washington, who see everything with
a womanly match-maker's eye, whispered
among themselves that, before Garfield
quitted the White House, there would lie
a match made between his daughter and
his secretary.
There was a good deal of love making
reported ns going on in the White House
at the time. General Garfield’s eldest
son was quite attentive to his cousin,
Miss Rockwell, the daughter of Colonel
Rockwell, and the society papers an
nounced their engagement, though it
was reported afterward that this an
nouncement was premature. Mr. Brown
took part in the social pleasures of the
young people when he had opportunity,
and if there were partners for games or
walks he was very apt to be found with
Miss Mollie.
By General Garfield's family Brown
was regarded almost as one of them.
Sirs. Garfield was especially fond of him.
She thought him a most exemplary young
man, and often said that his influence
was for good. After General Garfield
was shot Brown’s relations with the
family became very intimate, and by his
most assiduous devotion to Garfield,
which caused him many slccplesss nights
and great labor,besides carrying much ol
the burden of the Executive Office, he
gained the esteem of Sirs. Garfield so
greatly that she said after Garfield’s death
that the young man had come to seem to
her almost like a son. He practically be
came one of the family at that time, and
during all of Garfield’s sickness,and after
wards at the funeral, his tendernes and
care for Miss Slollie were delicate and
constant.
There was no doubt then that the
young girl had already won Brown’s af
fection, though of course she was not
then aware of it. And it was the opinion
of many who were in position to see them
that he would, when she became of prop
er age, ask her to be his wife.
There was a brief separation after the
family had Bottled in Cleveland. Brown
had liecn intrusted by Mrs. Garfield with
much of the business of settling the
estate, and while that was being done lie
was a member of her family. Miss
Mollie returned to her school books and
Brown went to Washington, where he
became a banker. But lie did not re
main in that business long. He sold out
his interest and returned to Mrs. Gar
field's family, becoming, it was said, her
confidential agent and assistant in the
management of her fortune, which was
more than half a million dollars.
Since then he has lieen with the Gar
fields much of the time. But not until
Miss Mollie had finished her school life
did he permit his affection so show itself.
Mrs. Garfield unquestionably knew long
sgo of his love for her daughter, and it
is certain that uo engagement wonld
have been permitted which hail not only
her consent but her approval.
Brown is now twenty-eight and Misi
Mollie ia twenty, and when they are
married there will be completed one of the
moat charming of romances. They will
probably live in Cleveland, where Mr.
Brown, it ia understood, haa buaineae in
terests. —Afow York Sun.
FOR THE YOUNQ PEOPLE.
Little Pilgrims.
Ben. Linkiin’s garden is under the
Greening Tree. He made it himself, with
a crazy fence round it of little sticks to
mark it off from Mother Hubbard’s.
Hers is under the Greening Trte, too,
fenced off in mbst orderly compartments.
Young Bcitns poke their green bonnets
up saucily from a moiind aboiit as big
round as little Mother Hubbard’s Sun hat.
The Potato patch is about as big as—
oh, three Sun hats, or was—but she be
gins to think some of them have hopped
over the fence, for almost every morning
when She goes out to see if her Garden
is “up yet,” she comes right back with
wide eyes and says: "Nuther Tato up
this mornin’.” Ben. Linkun follows
with: “i’re got nunner one too."
The couple of Lemon Seeds fenced in a
plot the size of a teacup have not yet ap
proached above ground, and both Ben
and Mother Hubbard begin to think
they’ve changed their minds and gone the
other way to see what’s in China Town.
Then there’s a Strawbery vine blossom
ing bravely in each small garden, spite
of knowing how very hard it is for Ben’s
fingers to keep from picking the blossoms
for a “Boka” to take to school.
And close by the foot of the Greening
Tree, nestling contentedly against its
rough brown bark, there's a bunch of
Pansies —a big bunch. Nobody knows
how it came there, or whom it blossoms
for, and so the gentle Pansy faces that
turn towards Mother Hubbard’s garden
are Hubbards, and those that look at Ben
Linkuns's bean bonnets are Ben Linkuns.
And the dear little Mothet Pansy some
how manages to turn about an even num
ber each way. It therefore follows that
pansy “Bokas” are often in the sailor
knot under Ben Linkun’s chin; in the
seven buttonholes adown the front of his
checked gingham; in apudgy “foomery”
bottle of little Hubbard’s on her desk at
school; while here and there about the
house and on the doorsteps is a rich
faced, patient Pansy waiting t’o be found
and welcomed joyfully like a prodigal
returned. But one evening Ben I.inkuu
left his garden gate open—too tired from
chasing a pair of speckled woodpeckers
from the apple trees to repair his fences—
and next morning a yellow-coated young
marauder was found keeping house right
in the midst of Ben’s finest Potato vine.
Ben was solemnly indignant. He
threw away the Dandelion jewelry he’d
been making and began to “shoo” with
all his might till Mother Hubbard ap
peared. She pondered the situation,
went straight and brought the pepper
box from their 6and house, and there in
her white poke bonnet and red puffed
sleeves, with the little Shepherdess’ red
petticoats held carefully away from pos
sible contact with the yellow-coated pil
ferer, she briskly sifted the shining sand
above him—that was to have frosted a
cake with that day—’till it filled his little
black eyes so full then could see which
way to back out of the magic garden,
and so doubled up his six fragile, black
stockencd feet, meekly folded his two
meddlesome feelers under his tiny bronze
chin, and in despair turned an inglorious
somersault right over into the dirt and
lay motionless.
Ben and Mother Hubbard looked sorry,
then tittered softly together over their
victory, and the wonderful discovery of
a sure slayer of Yellow Jackets.
They took the little shrunken body on
a Burdock leaf and laid it away in the
shade of the Greening Tree, went to sow
Morning Glory seeds and forgot all about
the dead Potato Bug.
When the City Horns were blowing
for dinner-time, they rushed out to get
the body of the unfortunate for exhibi
tion. It wasn’t there!
They scarhed for him wonderingly,
and by and by found him swinging gaily
in the very top notch of a thrifty cab
bage, looking down upon them with
sweetly meditative eyes, quite at home,
quite happy.
Ben Linkun looked shyly at Mother
Hubbard, then went off to swing bravely,
whistling: “A Dairy Maid and I;”and
little Hubbard walked majestically away
to finish her sand cakes.
Aksa Midi.kb
Glass Eyes.
A German paper makes the statement
that more than two million glass eyes ars
made every year in Germany and Switzer
land, white one French house manu
factures three hundred thousand of then
annually. The pupil is made of colored
glass, and sometimes red lines arc painted
on the inner surface, to simulate the
veins. The larger number of these eyes
are bought by laborers who ere exposed
to fire and are consequently liable to lose
an eye. The expression of the eyee is
almost solely due to the movements of the
upper eyelids; and this is the reason that
we may see a man with a glaaa eye a
hundred times before we discover his In
firmity . —Aymaut.
“TOWN INDIANS.”
A fffGIIT VISIT TO A PUEBLO
Village in new Mexico.
Remnants of an Ancient Race Vn
like Any Other Indians—Even
ing Fires on the Housetops—
Customs of the People.
A correspondent of the New York Post,
who visited a Pueblo Indian village in
New Mexico by night, writes an account
of what he saw. He says in part: The
houses, unlike others of their villages
that I have visited, arc but one and two
stories high. They are all joined, like
the brick houses of a city block,and col
lectively from three sides of a square,
with an open plaza in the centre facing
toward the Ilio Grande. The Pueblo of
Tao 9 is five stories in height, built in the
form of a square,each story terraced back
from the one under it. At a distance it
resembles a great pyramid. No doors are
cut through on the ground floor. The in
terior is reached by ladders and openings
in the roofs. Each succeeding story
is reached only by means of
these scaling ladders. This before
the advent of modern implements of
warfare formed an almost impregnable
fortress. The force of habit is still so
strong with these people that they con
tinue to draw their ladders up at night
with the same precaution that it was
necessary sot them to tlse centuries ago,
when the Navajos and the Apaches
waged a deadly and iuceseant warfare
against them. The old church at the
Pueblo of Santa Clara stands on the
north side of the plaza. It is something
like eighty feet in length with walls foui
feet thick. It was built by the Francis
can Friars, and was standing at the time
of the reeonquest of New 7 Mexico in 1692.
It teas quite dark and the whole village
seemed to be on fire. Flames were burst
ing from the roofs of nearly every honsc.
My guide explained that this was theii
baking night, and thes ovens
which are built upon the house
tops, were being heated. These
ovens are built of adobe, conical in form,
and resembling the beehive of olden rep
resentation. The walls are made very
thick in order to retain the heat. An
opening in the door some eighteen inches
In diameter is left in one side, and a six
inch hole for draught in the top, and if
was from these draught openings thal
flames from the dry pinyon and cedar
wood was bursting to the height of eight
or ten feet. The whole plaza presented
a sight at once weird, novel, and inter
csting, brilliantly illuminated a9 it was
by these bright house-top fires. Groups
of Indians were squatted here and there
smoking cigarettes. Near the corral
three Indians were butchering some
goats. Women were cooking over sep
arate camp fires built just out
side the doors of their houses.
Family groups occupied the cheer
fully illuminated roofs, and were plainly
outlined against the sky as they
stood overlooking or conversing with
those upon the plaza. Children of all
ages and all stages of nudity were
scampering here and there, screaming,
laughing, playing, yelling or crying.
Scores of dogs were running about,
eagerly sniffing the fragrance of the
broiling goats* meat. Groups of Indians
were continually arriving with burros
laden with wood, the result of their day's
labor. Some of the little animals were
so loaded down and covered that they
resembled moving wood-piles. Groups
of young men and maidens were dancing
about and hoarsely chanting their Indian
melodies. It was a scene so novel and
un-Amcriran that the beholder might
well ask himself whether it was all a
dream, or a trahsition to the real and
iring mysteries of some far-off planet.
At the left of the plaza is a large corral
built of cedars set closely together in the
ground. This is public property, and is
used by the whole village for their sheep,
goats, and burros. In the centre of this
corral above the height of a man's head a
scaffolding is buiit. This is divided into
sections, and the crops of corn raised by
the different Indians of the village are
stacked upon it until the time for husk
ing. The huskß are saved to be used for
many purposes, but principally as a sub
stitute for paper in rolling cigarettes.
The “Estufa” of the village ia near the
centre of the plain. This is a circular
room about twenty-five feet in diameter,
built almost entirely under ground, the
roof being raised some two feet from the
surface. The architecture of the
“Estufas” of the different tribes is the
same, as they are all built strictly accord
ing to the directions of their long-lost
“Montezuma.” They arc entered by
means of a ladder. I proposed to go
down, but my guide most emphatically
denied me that privilege. This room,
you will understand, ia held by Pueblo
Terms. $1.50 per Aimm Single Copy 5 cents.
Indians as the most sacred of all sacred
places, and it is carefully guarded by at
tendants whose duty it is to see that the
sacred fire which has been kept burning
for centuries in the little fire hole in tha
centre neeer diet.
After a time Spent in viewing the il
luminated scenes about the plaza, my
guide took me into the house, where I
was introduced to the family. Each
member stepped forward and shook
hands. A sheepskin was placed upon
the ground for me to sit upon. One
corner of the room was furnished
with a fireplace, another was filled by
a large, wide-mouthed earthen jar, hold
ing over half a barrel. This waa used as
a flour barrel, A lot of bedding in the
shape of wildcat, goat and sheepskins lay
in the opposite comer. Several jars for
holding water stood about the room. The
ground was made hard and smooth with
a layer of adobe. A bundle of herbs and
roots and several strings of red peppers
hung from the walls. A Mexican os
Fueblo Indian would about as soon be
cut off from his flour as from his red and
green peppers. The green ones they eat
is we would an apple, and a little latcc
in the season the sunny side of every
house will be hung with festoons of pep
pers.
These Indians do not occupy a reserva
tion. They are entitled to vote at the
Territorial elections, but owing to theii
fear of taxation, they never exercise this
right. They are all amenable to tha
laws of the Territory, yet it is an histori
cal fact that no Pueblo Indian has ever
been brought up for punishment under
the Territorial laws, and they have never
had recourse to these laws for the settle
ment of auy trouble among themselves.
The land belonging to this tribe is owned
ia common, but t! • Governor and Coun
cil make a division of it, giving to the
head of each family what, in their judg
ment, his circumstances will enable him
to care for. When the crops are harvested,
instead of each having his own, the
crops, or their proceeds, go into a general
pool, and the Governoi distributes ac
cording to the destitution, abilities and
needs of each family. II * man desert*
his family and refuser, to resist in their
support, the Governor immediately
takes hi 3 land and ali dividends
away from Line, and he ie allowed no
rights in the tribo until lie return* to his
family. A man with more than one
squaw is the exception not the rule
among thes* Indians. In dresa they
somewhat resemble the Navajo, but in
their ways, their disposition, and their
whole manner of living, they are to
tally different from the Novajo, the Ute,
the Apache, or any other roving bands
whom they ever came in contact with.
They are just what their name signifies
(Pueblo means town). They are town
Indians, e.nd they live as town people
should, industriously, lawfully and peace
ably. They never rove about in search
of blood and conquest, and about the
only instance ever known of their acting
on the offensive was when in 1680 they
rose in justifiable rebellion against the
Spanish rule and drove the invaders from
the country. At that time they were
wrought up to such a pitch that they
performed acts of bloodshed and cruelty
after the custom of the roving tribes.
The Apaches and Navajos have ever
waged a bitter warfare against them, but
they seldom fought except in the defence
of their homes. The location and con
struction of their Pueblos up to the present
day shows how completely they sacrificed
every comfort and convenience to the
one idea of having an impregnable fortress
of defence.
Introduced anu inen married.
nenry Wynn, a bachelor from tha
West, who was recently visiting his
brother at Owen Sound, Ontario, ex
pressed the desire one day to get mar
ried before his return. The day of his
departure had already been set, and to
expedite matters he offered his brother’s
wife a deed to fifty acres of land if she
would get him a wife by the Saturday fol
lowing the date of the offer. After ex
ploring the town without success for
several days, on Friday Mrs. Wynn met
s Miss Milrose, who was willing to ac
cept the offer. She was introduced to
her prospective husband on Saturday
evening, just before the boat was leav
ing. A consultation was held, the pair
tvere married on the spot, Mr*. Wynn
was handed over the deed for the fifty
’ sere* of Innd and the bride and groom *
iteamed away for their prairie homo
A Jockey’s Largo Pay.
Jockey McLaughlin, who rides for the
Dwyers, ia paid (10,000, writes Foster
i Coatee from New York. He haa the
privilege of outside mounts, which means
(8,000 more. He gets in addition from
(5,000 to (10,000 more in gifts from
1 owner* of horse* he has ridden success
fully. Jockey Isaac Murphy gets (10,-
000 and outside mounts. His income is
fully (80,000 a year.