Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, August 12, 1877, Page 11

smarts ~ ecstume. ——— EARLY CHICAGO And the Amusements of That Primitive Period. The First Circus-Tent and the Place Where It Was Pitched. An Excursion Up the South Branch--- Ike Cook’s Fortunes. The Auction-Rooms and the Persons, Who Ban Them—Mr, Mayor Garrett, ” gxetches of Some Prominent Residents as They Were in 1836. To the Editor of The Tribune. Caicaco, Aug. 10.—Playfulness, which is the motive t0 amusement, pastimes, or recreation, iginstinctive in human nature, and I may add throughout brute creation. The playing to- gether of children, and parents playing with their children, is amusement, and yct no wrong. Nomother can bc so sad, so overwhelmed with grief and aaxicty, but that she. will respond to the unconscious playfulness of her child; and uch an act can but cheer and encourage that distressed mother. Beyond this, how far amusement can be pursued without doing wrong, ‘and without incurring the penalties of wrong- doing, it is not my province here to consider. Esch of my readers can determine for himself on this question, remembering the Scriptural words “liappy is he who condemneth not him- self in that which he alloweth.”? Early Chicago had its amusements, and it is * my alin to recall them as memory serves, and to record them. Probably ‘HE FIRST EXQIITION OF PROFESSIONAL ACTORS, * ane first real “show” was that of a circus in September or October, 1836. ‘Fher pitched their tent on Lake street, on the tot now occupied by the store of William Biair & Co. Just west and adjoining stood the old New-York House, then being third on the list of hotels in - Chicago; the Lake House and the Tremont tak- ing the lead. Tne New-York House was a two- story wooden building with caves to the street, in the style of country taverns of those days. It much resembled the old building at the corner of Lake and Canal streets, which was then called the Chicago Hotel, though better known by its ‘original name, The Green Tree. In the rear of the New-York House stood its large barn, which awas a necessary attachment to a hotel in Chica- goat that time. As the circus-tent stood a lit- te back from the strect it was near-the barn, which was made use of as aconvenience for passing the horses to and from the tent. The creus—I think they called it ‘The Grand Equestrian Arena”—was not as extensive as Barnam’s, nor did they have separate tents for horses or anything else. But the performance was wonderful. One rider by the name. of Stone was put forward by the management as. the greatest living equestrian. And so he was,: for aught the boys knew. In fact, we believed it implicitly, for we could never think for a mo- ment that any one would misrepresent in such amatter. Though in later years, since secing ‘the real wonders in Barnum’s procession,—the glittering chariot, the majestic lion stuffed with straw, propped up on the top of a high wagon, opening his month and roaring or bellowing in such an unearthly manner as the procession passed along, and the image in imitation of ® scarecrow, and the little imeges of colored children: on similar hich perches dancing so lively, and the bic bell ringing from an- other wagon, aud the like too numerous to mention,—1 say since secing these wonders I have had a suspicionthat in those carly days we were somewhat misled. However, Mr. Stone, in closing the performance, would appear in In- dian character. This wis v¢ thrilling. At least, the advertisement called itso. Still, it seemed to me, as it did to the exiled Frenen King ov a similar occasion, that it was “ver good, ver good, but von such: fon, it is enough.” But the - redeeming fea- ture of the show, tbat upon which we could dwell with ever-recurring plessureand satisizction. was the singing of Billv Barlow in ‘Mhe costume can be imagined from une words of tne chorus: Oh! dear, I'm ragged I know, But look at the perfections of younz Billy Barlow. It would be curious to know how many of the ‘present residents of Chicago remember that: tirst show. Previous to this there had been SOME AMATEUR ATTEMPTS atamusements. The previous wister—that of 1835-3i—z lyceum was instituted for discussion and devate; aud a course of lectures had been delivercd before it by Dr. John T. Temple, il- lustrated by experiments with the retort. Then they had wolf chascs on horseback. Prairie wolves were numerous. Many a night nave beea wakened, no further.from the heart of the town tnat [Harrison street, by their hidcous and uncarthly howls and cries. Hunt- ing was a common and constant pastime. Ducks and prairic hens—they call them prairie chickens new—were abundant. Que could never fail to find ducks in the river anywhere from Madison street out.. In the winter the river presented a lively scene of driving and racing on thcice with cutters. There were no suburbs to visit, nor cbeighboring towns, hence drives Were princi- ‘ally confined to theriver. . Then it was lamentably the case that : DRINKING BOUTS ‘Were not infrequent; and, as times were flush, _ Money abundsat, and millionaires numerous, pane was an ordinary tipple. Probably ‘Bot the greatest evil of champagne-drinking ‘was the provocation it. gave in a community Where champagne bad not become a. familiar -word to play upon the word. by the remark, may be champagne, but it brings real pain.” This travesty being often repeated and every time as original, bean to be monotonous, if not painful. Of course there were some hard-heads who preferred whisky. | Amon theee were some of the Indian traders, and when they became warmed up they would en- tertain their friends with an Indian dunce, Which, with the accompanying yells and violent actions, was fricht{ul to behold. Ola settlers will remember Bob Kinzie as being famed for those Indian war-dances. On the 4th of July, 1636, 2 new amusement was planned. It was 4 STEAMBOAT EXCURSION UP THE SOUTH BRANCH. There was a little wheezy, clattering boat nam- ed Chicago which, when the weather prom- ised fair, used to run to st. Joc. This boat was employed for the excursion. At that time there Was 2 dense body of timber on the cast bank-of the South Branch, beginning at Washington and extending as far Twelfth street. At Van Buren street this timber extended as far east as Clark treet, curving from there each way toward the fiver. From Twelfth street there was open prairie till timber was again reached, which was ou doth sides of the _ river, about at Eighteenth street. That on the West “Side extended along the river as far as the canal-lock and apout a half-mile Wide from the river at the widest point. On the Esst Side of the riyer, or rather the South Side, the timber followed the East Fork for 3 mile or two. In this timber, about at Halsted street, Was a landine place where stone was loaded on &cows for tiling up the piers, which were then in process of construction. ‘This lauding place Was called Hardscrabble. As the gallant craft which bore the excursionists was passing Hard- Scrabble, the laborers there—probably not Without provocatiou—besan to pelt the boat with stones. Then amusement. began sure enough. One of the old settlers who is sull among us relates that he squatted in the midst of acrowd of ladies. He was beantifully sheitered. But the boat was brought to land so “that the boys could get ashore, and they soon leaned out the town,” Hence the excursion, Which probably had begun to be monotonous, Was turned into a day of {ively enjoyment. Then there were THE HOOSIERS of that day, who, with their peculiar appearance and ways, were a fruitful source of amusement. They came to Chicago in shoals, and with their reat covered wagons, which were called prairie- Schoorers, with from five to ten yoke of oxen to cach, ‘they would encamp on the open bra around the town, They would load @-wagon with bacon, thrown in loose, and en sleep on it all the way up from the Wa- bash. ‘This gave them a sy appearance. Que of them. who having sold his load, re- mained here a few days, and bad gotten much ‘Of the grease rubbed otf, met a friend who had just arrived, and was redolent of their Wabash luge, Overjoyed, he broke out, “How aro 01, Bill?» and, grasping his hand, he added, Why, vou look as good and as greasy.” These Hoosfers were invariably clothed in blue-jeans} hence the present Democratic Governor of In- «ava, knowing of the repute of those early in- for ixcorruptible honesty and stern THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, AUGUST 32, 1877—-SIXTEEN PAGES, Patriotism, has adopted their stylo of dross. lyly intending thereby to enjoy their renenee tion for those sterling virtues. Bur it is a3 sig- nal a failure as was that of the mule when he arrayed himself in the skin of the lion. Tho ‘overior is only “Blue Jeans Williams” after There were also in Chicago men of w: humor who, by their pleasantries sod pain ‘uaturds, contributed much to the amusement of the little community. Of such -were Col. Strode, Dr. Egan, George Davis, and others, gan, some of less nute. ‘In September, 1836, there was AN INDIAN PAYMENT in Chicago. This was atime of much playing, but the principal game—chuck-a-luck, I think it was called—was anything but amusement. It was after the three-card-monte order, heads —I win, tails you lose.” Many thousand Indians wero assembicd, remain- ing here several weeks, and were pafd a large amount of money preliminary to thelr removal beyond the Mississippi. ‘The Indians tried in many ways to amuse the people and manifest their friendliness, but they seemed to be sad- dened by the thought of their approaching exile. ‘They were paid in silver coin, the most of which was left in Chicago, and yet I never heard any oue complain that ther¢was too much of it, or demand that silver be demonetized. If silver Was a nuisance, Old Juneau was in a bad fix, for he had a trunk full of it. But Llearned that he Zot it off his hands at par, and that his greatest trouble was that he did not have more of it. Perhaps tho famous specie. circular of Gen. Jackson, which was issued in August of that year, helped the old Indian trader out of his didiculty. That order of the President re- quired that the entire revenue, including land sales, bo paid in specie. Specie meant silver and gold, and at such a time it was convenicut to have silver about. Of all the chimeras that periodically possess the human mind and attain to popularity, it is seldom that there is one so senseless as that which would debase and de- stroy our silver moucy. ‘With the removal of the Indians, the troops were withdrawn from Chicago. Fort Dear- born stood at that time’ isolated and Frim at where is now the intersection of Michizan avenue and iver street, there being no Other buildings nearer than State street. The Fort, with its white palisades pierced ior musketry, and its block-houses at each angle mounted with cannon, and garrisoned by regu- lar troops, was altogcther an objéct of consiaer- able interest. In those days nesrly everything had the pre- fix “prairie.” There were, besides the prairie wolves and prairie: heus, praitic flowers, prairie grass, pruiric tires, and prairie hay for beds and pillows, which tatter was gi the name of praine feathers, aud truth compels me to add, prairic itch. This latter caused a good deal ot amusement, thoush when first mentioned it caused for me a good deal of consternation. Then, above all there was the wonderful, the magnificent prairie itself. Since that time £ have climbed mountain peaks, visited the West- ern plains, and the varied scenery of the sunny South, and been upon the great ocean, but none of these have becn comparable with the view of the boundless, alinost Jevel and unbroken prai- rie, waving with low wrass and adorned with flowers, with an occasional gruve in the far dis- tance, and vounded at the right by a semi-circle of woods as presentcd to my youthful cyes from what is now Canal street, octween Lake and Randolph. In the dearth of real shows, that is, those for which pay was demanded for admission, there was as a substitute for such, ane standing, con- stant, ever-open place aud source of amuse- ment iu carly Chicago, which was THE AUCTION-ROOMS. ‘These were located at and about the corner of Dearborn and South Water streets. In these the amusement-seckers congregated evenings. Of course I need not mention drinking-saloons; they are ever omnipresent. Coffec-houses they were then called, though guiltless of coffec. With an eye to business. {ke Cook had lecated such a coffee-house, which he called the “Eagle,” on the west side of Dearborn, near the corner of South Water, in the midst of the auction-rooms. Orit may be that the auction- ecrs, With the same eye to business, sathered around the “Eugio.” In cither case, tlie people were between two fires, for it was the aim of one tosell whisky, and of the other to_se!l their goods; amusement was only incidental. Ike Cook's ** Eagle * became the most popu- Jar resort of the kind in Chicago. Ike was a Democrat, and as the Democracy were then in the ascendant in Chivagoas well as throughout the State, to him was accorded the naming of all candidates for office, from Governor down. It was probably at this time that an catbusi- astic young man who had just arrived from the East, wrote back to his father, who was a Dem- ocratic office-seeker, to come on with haste; for, said he, “mighty mean men fet into oflice bere.” However, Mr. Cook ex-tvised this pre- rogative with such acceptance to the Democracy of Mlinois, that he was emboldened to at- tempt to dictate Presidential candidates to the Democratic National Convention at Baltimore. But to his dismay, he found himself without influcace; he was too far away from his base of supplies; or rather from his base supplies. He even reported that he had put aside a demijulin of liquor not to be opened till his favorite candidate was clected. Fatal short-sightedness! From is long intimacy with Democrats Mr. Cook ought to have known that they never forgive the man who places whisky beyond their immediate reach. From that time Mr. Cook withdrew frout politics with the memorable lamentation: ‘Truth squashed to carth shall riec again. Well, from that day to this, with the excep- tion of Hucnanan, the Democracy. have never sticeecded, even with the aid of Nasby, in get- ting a Democratic President. ~ But I digress. Among the auctioneers was Augustus Garrett, whose auction-room was on the southwest corner of Dearborn and South Water streets. There was then a wonderful draw-bridge across the river at Dearborn street, and this corner was the centre of the town, for Chicago did not become a city till April, i837. L. W. Montgomery's auction-room was on Dear- born, between Garrett’s and the “ Eagle,” and several more were on South Water, east of Dear- born. and.just around on Lake was the auction- room of L.C. P. Freer. Mir. Garrett only took the stand owasionally. When Ye did he was in gor- geous array and loaded with jewelry. He did the heavy acting. Dunne the — win- ter of ‘3330 there was a deep re- lizious -intercst in the Methodist Churen, which with its gracious influence extending over a considerable leneth of time ts and ever will be remembered by many as the fairest page in the annals of Chicago. Large numbers were -conyerted. . Among the converts was Mr. Gar- ret, which was the occasion of much remark. Subsequently he fell aw: hich, though de- plorable, was not surprising, consideriug the power of evil habits ana the weakness of our Common human nature. During thisdeclinefrom the right way there was a Democratic Convention to notniuatea candidate forthe Mayoralty. The Methodists were numerous and pretty stirring, and some in the Convention suggested that it would be well to nominate a man who could carry the Methodist strength. Mr. Garrett, who was a member of the Convention, opposed this in strong terms. He was in favor of Alec Loyd. In speaking on the subject, he said he had had experience with the; Methodists and bad got enough of them; sald he, **they gulled me. they gouged me, and now jor God’s sake let us have an infidel Mayor.” Notwithstanding this Jase and this course, which was only bravado, Mr. Garrett. could not shake off his religious coprictions, but through many temptations. and gtrugetes, and ialls, be finally adhered to his Christian faith to the end. Mr. Garrett was subsequently twice Mayor of the city. He had some laulty, but withal his memory 1s cherished by old residents with great respect. ‘Auctioneer Moatgzomery scldom took the stand himsels, only when spzcial lots of goods were to be sold, when he would knock them down right and Jeft, scarecly eyer waiting for a second bid. The sales went on, however, at this and all the rooins every night. ‘Town lots were also always soldat sone of the rooms. ‘This wag done by holding up the map of some town, which was represented as being a rival of Chi- cago.. On the map was seen a Court-[ouse and park, with vessels sailing past. The lot was pointed out, and much acconnt was made of tae water-lots. Complaints were sometimes made by purchasers, upon looking up the Jots, that they were water-lots sure enough, for they were found to be under water. ‘Mr. Freer, as Istated, had located around on Lake street. At that time the original Tremont House—a wooden building capable of accommo- dating fifty or sixty guests by putting from tour to.cizht in a room—stood on thenorthwest corner of Lake and Dearborn. On the north- east corner was tne tin shop of Botsford & Beers. The corner where noi stands the Tremont with nearly that whole block, Was then vacant. On the southwest corner was 2 log blacksmith- shop partly surrounded by a rail fence, and near by was the shanty meat-market of Sylves- ter Marsh; just beyond was Mr. Freer’s place. In this locality, remote from the business cen- tre, at about No. 105, Mr. Freer held forth. Mr. Freer was then 2 young man. The ‘style of dress amonz dress¥ young men at that time was rather flond. There was a broad expanse of shirt-bosom, gay colored vests, blue and green brdadcloth, and low shocs and white stockings. In all these matters Mr. Freer was fully upto the times. In selling, he was earn- est, thorough, and untiring; he meant business. Mr. Freer is stil! with us, and these many years by aquiet, philanthropic, and exemplary tiie, be has stevd a ying witness that an auctioneer can be reformed. ‘Nearly adjoining the tin-shop of Botsford & Beers, on Lake stret, was the little bakery of i roredible, that. th slow: it is almost incredible that ie now slow- ang and quiet millionaire, Mr. Haddock, 1 only about forty years was flying around at. this locality: haviog on is. nice apron, and his sleeves /olled up, and up to his elbows indough, and occasionally dodging behind the counter to deal out the product of his industry to the hon- est inhabitants of the frontier viilage of Cpita- go. Verily truth is stranger than fiction. BUT TO RETURN TO THE CIRCUS AND ITS SUR- . ROUNDINGS. 4 On the southwest corner of Sonth Water and LaSalle stood what was called the Ola Bank Building, it being onc of the few: brick - buila- ings in Chicago, the rear corner on LaSalle strect only, being occupied by the Chicago Branch of the 8tate Bank of Minois. . dust south of the bank on LaSalle street stood a litte two-story building which was the office of the Chicago American, a weekly Whie paper published by T. O! Davis. This journal through many changes ofname ard conductors ig now the ‘slow but tolerably sure Evening Journal. Andyet the Journal sometimes gocs alittletoofast. 9. ° | Alittie west of the bank on South Water street was 9 small book-store kept by 8. Ef. Clift. Mr. Clift’s sien read ‘* Books and Statiot a-ry." On the same street, east of LaSalle, w: anéther book und station-er-y store, which was rather more pretentious, kept by 3. F. Gale. ‘Still west of and adjoining Cliit was the store of Philo Carpenter. Philo sold stoves, and pork, and grindstoncs, and molasses, and the like. Ile wasa pleasant and biand but wary and watchful, and, consequentiy, thrifty busi- ness man. Mr.-Carpenter is st!li among us, and all these years he has been a constant and un- tiring promoter of religious institutions, tein- perance, anti-Slavery, auti-Masonry, aud every piiiantlironte work. Ifa searctowere instituted in Chicago it would not be dificult tofind worse men than Philo Carpenter. ar Gale's book-store. on South Water street, was a store kept by one McFarland, whose sign read “ West India Goods.” As I never saw an; rich or rare fabrics or productions displayed wondered what such goods could be. Tevent- ually ascertained that it was only whisky. Just below Clark strect, on South Water, was another liquor store kept by Stiles Burton. As there was no obstruction between his store and the river, no wharves or landings. in fact, no vessels to speak of to land, and as river water was then used for drinking, Mr. Burtou was charged \\ mixing much river water with his whisky. This was A common remark, hence it may uot beimproper toassume its truth. And this can certainly do no violence to Mr. Burton’s memory, because river water to-day is a safer drink than whisky. However, after some years he left the whisky trafic and became con- siderably interested in real estate. Mr. Burton in his promatnre old age was for alone time ‘an invalid. While his head was white and his feet were tottering on the brink of the grave, what consolation there must have been in’ the reflec thon that the whisky he had sold was very weal Opposite to the circus tent on Lake street was the little harness shop of Silas B. Cobb. Here Mr. Cobb in his jaunty paper cap, his waxcd- ends: and awl in hand, ‘gaily strode his vench and patched up the broken tugs of the Hoosiers: and he did it well too, as he does nearly everything to which he puts his hand. At least I never heard any complaints from his customers, Mr. Cobb is still with us, and not. much older now than then. Themany puildingshe has erected in Chicago and the enterprises he has controlled, have been marked by the same diligence, thoroughness, and success. I say “nearly everything,” for those canvas-covered horse cars of his so far frora being a success are only a nuisance. But time would fall_meto make mention of all the persons, or record all the events of those palmy days which crowd tipon mv memory; hence I will close with the mention of ONE MORE LANDMARK and an event in connection therewith. On Lake street, near Franklin, stood the somewhat imposing residence of Dr. John 'T. Temple. Here the Hon. Thomas Hoyne carried on his courtship. This house went down in the great fire. But while it was yet standing, just previous to the firc, it was dnterenthie ant, leas- ant to observe with what a self-satisfied air Mr. Tloyne would hitch his shoulders when looking up at the old house while passing by. A shrug, erhaps a cynical old bachelor would call it. if, however, the fatter sazrestion be the right onc, this should hardly be mentioned under the head of amusements. But in er case { need not say that courting—as it has been sivce the first meeting of Adam and ever—was one of the pleasant things of Early Chicago. J. M. O. ——<——————— BRUSSELS. A Grand Te-Deum—Tho Field of Waterloo . ~The Belgian Capital. Special Correspondence of The Tribune. Hore. Bstuevor, Brussels, July 22.—We nad a brillfant exhibition here yesterday of Church and State, of Crown and Gown,—the King in bis handsome uniform, the Queen in an elegant morning costume, and the priests in their gorgeous robes of crimson and. gold. Their Belgian Majesties were accompanied by the Crown Prince and Princess of Germany. The scene of the display was in the magniticent Cathedral of St. Gudule, and the occasion was the anniversary of the coronation of Leopold I., in 1831. All the high officers of the Court, all the great dignitaries of the Church, and all the Foreign Ministers, assisted atthe solemnity. The performance consisted of a Te-Deum chanted by a choir worthy of the Grand Opera in Paris,accompanied by a deep-toned-organ that made oue shiver. Why have you no Te-Deum in America? You certainly have reasons enough for bursting forth in this melodious au- them of joyful thanksgiving: at the close of the Civil War, for instance; the gathering of a bountiful harvest; the squelching of railway- riots: the election of honest men to office: the return to specie-payment; the pacification of the South; the termination of the Beecher trial, ctc., ete, etc. The abolition of Fourth-ofJuly specches would also be worthy of a Te-Deumn- Laudamus chanted in every church in the Union on the morning of the ‘Glorious Fourth.” The spectacle of pesterday, impressed ‘me as both patriotic and pious. There was a great crowd, anda most decorous and devout ‘one. Everybody scemed to fecl the music, and to rise under its inspiration. How. much better this than long-winded prayers and prosy sermons. Nohody looked bored; everybody seemed pleased, and proud of their handsome King and Queen.” Leopold 1. is certainly a_fine-looking man,—tail, dignified, “every hoa King.” lis father was uncle ot Queen Victoria, which makes the reigning monarch acousin of En- gland’s gracious sovereign. The Imperial heir of the German. Throne, wno married the Princess Alice of England, the Queen's first-born, Jooks enough like Leopold to be his brother,—much more so than his brother, the Connt de Flanders, heir apparent to the Belgian Throne, ‘The grand ceremony at the Cathedral, com- mencing at 12, was over at 1,—just long enouch to please and not long enough to fatigue. Hav- ing the afternoon “on my hands,” | took the train for Braine-lAlleud, and in half-an-hour found myself on the famous Field of Waterloo. How ni houses, hotels, streets, places, and steamships have been named * Waterloo” since the allied armies of Europe, sixty-two years ago the 18th of June, on a hot summer's Sun- day-ufternoon, succeeded; atter a contlict of fire, im crushing the army of France and caging the proud cagle of a liundred victories. “We sec nothing there now but golden wheat-fields; an artificial mountain, surmounted by a huge lion, erected by the Dutch to commemorate the spot where the Prince of Holland icll; a few monuments. to the memory of the “distinguished” dead; and a little hotel filled with relics gotten from the ficld,—swords, muskets, pistolé. helmets, bullets, buttons, coins, etc, ete. But the ‘collection is very valuable; and the garrulous. httle old woman who owns it—a nicce of the celebrated Sergeant- Major Cotton, who made the collection.and kept the hotel for forty years—could sell out for a handsome fortune. But she is a thorough Watcrioonatic, and will. not part with a single button for a hundred pounds, About 8.000 strangers Visit the ticld annually, and all drop more or less pennies into ‘the landisdy’s plethoric pocket. The farm-houses of House- mont, LaBelle Alliance, La Haye-Suinte, and other “nistorical places on the field, re- main as they were on the day of the battle. A majority of American tray- clers in Europe pass throuzh Brussels en route to Germany, and nearly all visit the classic field of Waterloo. Gen. Grant is one of the ex- ceptions. Perhaps he has seen so much of the horrors of war that he did not wish to revive pabitat reminiscinces; sv he left the field of Vaterloo out of his itinerary. Let no American fail to visit Brussels. It is a beautiful city, with more fine public buildings than any place of five times its size in Europe. ‘The Cathedral, the Paluce, the Bourse, the Hotel de Ville, arc all on a grand scale, and the new Palace of Justice, and the new Mar- ket, uow going up, are splendid edifices. The new "Grand Hotel,’ also, 1s very fine. The population of; the city, including suburbs, is about, 350,000, and of the Kingdom about 5,500,000. Jt is altogether a thrivme State, and the people are industrious,” economical,‘loyal, and seemingly contented. After “doing ” the field of Waterloo, a din- ner of Senitine roast beef al’ Anglaise,—a rare thing.on the Continent,—with a bottle of cool “ Charles Heidsiczk.” inclines oncto repudiate } all wars of whatever sort, and to live in ** peace with all the world and the rest of mankind,” ‘as good old President Taylor, by aslip of the pen, declared in first and last message to Congress. - CosMoProLizaN, Se EUROPEAN GOSSIP. The Recent Award of the Dun- mow Flitch. Milan Cathedral, St. Charles Borromeo and Da Vinci’s “Last Sup- per.” : Old and New Paris~-Destruction of Ancient Land- marks, and Unveiling of Ancient Se erets. > “THE DUNMOW FLITCH.» "London Standard, July 24 The time-honored custom which associates Dunmow with bacon in the minds of English- men, and which Mr. Harrison Ainsworth made the groundwork of an’ entertaining story, was celebrated yesterday in the little Essex village under the most inauspicious circumstances. The weather was very bad, heavy . showers sweeping pitcously over the flats, and drenching merry-makers to the skin, or driving them for shelter to the beer-shops; the attendance was poor, and the true joyous spirit was absent; the interest felt in the event in the locality was but small, and the expected candidates for the quaint prize failed to put in an ap- pearance in substantiation of their claims, "It was hoped that two contented pairs would enter in emulation for the gammon,—Mr. Andrews, F. R. H. §., of Hull, and an frishman from Colcraino, who fs happy fn the partnership of an English lady from Surrey. It appears.the Trishman did actually visit Dunmow on Sunday, but not liking the appearance of things, he sur- reptitious!y departed, leaving no address. Mr. ‘Andrews was compelied to resign his preten- stons, a certain domestic occurrence of an inter- esting nature. which would prevent Mrs. An- drews from accompanying him, haying occurred in his family coly awweck ago. At the last mo- ment, when the lovers of the “ood old times” and their observances were almost in despair, a cozy couple were induced to come to the front. Their names are Barrack; they are natives of the parish, of the humbler class, and they are the parents of a dozen blvoming children, Iv is unnecessary tosay much respecting the history of the custom, which, he it said en pas- sant, is considered Ly a great many persons even in Dunmow to be lar more honored in the breach than the observance. Like the courts of love in France, it. Doasts of exalted patronage und antiquity anterior to’ the times of Piers Plowman and Chaucer, both of whom allude to it, To Robert Fitzwalters, who, in the reign of Henry 1L., was head of 8 religious house about four iniles from Dunmow, its origin is traced. With ptous motives, no duubt, he ordained that “ne which repenteth him not of -his marriage, sleeping or waking, in a yiere and a any mictht lawfully fetch a gammon of bacon.” Whether this tradition be wel] founded or not, certain it is that the custom existed at a very early pe- riod, in the Priory of Little Dunmow, of del iv- cring a ‘flitch ora gamion of bacon to any couple who claimed it, and could swear ayearand a day after their marriage that during that time they-had never offended cach other in deed or word, or ever wished themselves unmarried again. Probably {t was 9 custom attached to the tenure of the manor, and was continued after the Priory was dissolved, and the land had. passed into secular bands. According to the old ceremonial the party claiming the bacon, who was styled the pilgrim, was to take the oath in rhyme, kneeling on two sharp stones in the churchyard, the convent attending, aud using a variety of.ceremonies. After which the pilgrim was taken oa mon’s shoulders and carried first about the Priory charchyard, and then through the rillaze, attended by the’ monks of the con- yent, the bacon being dorne in triumph before them. ‘The ceremonial was continued with little alteration until 1761, after which it fell -out of s fashion. In’ 1851 a couple named Hurrel. demanded the savory rize from the lord of the mauor: but their demand was refused, on the ground that tne usage had becn too long dormant. But what the lord of the manorrefused, sympathetic friends vouchsafed; 8 public subscription was organized, a fete was fotup in Easton Park, and.a famous flitch, garlanded with flowers, was presented with all due pomp. In 1855, princi- pally owing to the exertions of Mr. Harrison Ainsworth and the influence of his novel, the custom was revived as near to its ancieut form as might be, and not one, but two flitches were given away, the winners being Mr. Barlow, a builder, of Chippiag, Ongar, and the Chevalier de Chatelain, a French literary man. A jury of six bacheiors and six maidens was impanelea and a mock court was opened at the Town Hall, when with considerable humor the farce of a trial of the candidates was gone through, Mr. Robert Bell acting as coursel for petitioners, and Mr. Dudley Costello as advocate for the mmon. This was all pleasant enough, ut the boisterous procession through the streets, when the claimants were carried on men’s shoulders, and the subsequent proceed- ings of kneeling on sharp stones and making solemn declaration of their reciprocal fondness, were not quite unobjectionadle, aud allowed opponents the opportunity of complaining that tbere was too near an approach to a parody of things sacred. The doggercl in which ‘the President of the Court dehivered the award ran thus: Since fo these conditions without any fear, Of your awn accord you do freely declare, A whole fliteh of bacon you shull receive, rit hence with love and good leave: ¢18 our custom, at Dunmow well known, — the pleasure be oure, the bacon's your own. Two years later there was_sanother presenta- tion, when a Mr. and Mrs. Beard, of Stafford- shire, obtained the prize, and axain in 1869, in 1874, and a twelvemonth ago the ceremonial was carried out, the successful couple on the last oceasion being named Boosey. The guiding spirits in the present instance were Mr. Willian Lege, who presided, and Mr. J. W. Savill, a local bookseller. Mr. Ainsworth failed to attend. Mr. Hepworth Dixon, who had also been asked to lend the approval of his presence to the performance, respecttully de- clined. Perhaps both were wise, or had a pre- vision of tie weather. To be candid, even Wasnington Irving himself, with ell his’ rever- ence for fine old English rural mirtnfulness, would not have been satisticd to the full had he been there to sec. The yiltage was decorated with flags; few and far between there were a few rough triumphal arches of evergreens; but be- yond the Foresters of the vicinity nobody secm- edto fecl any profound sympathy in the busi- ness. The conversations that one overheard were more usttally concerning the state of the crops and the monstrous size of a certain fat beast at last Chelinsford market than upon the delights of connubdial felicity. The Foresters were encrectic, but they provably think it their ‘tobe so, secing that Maid Marian was buried in the Priory from which the original gift of gammon came, "Jt was somewhat of an ana- chronism as one walked through the wet. sloppy streets to the scene where this autiquated fes- tivity of our land was to be gone through, to come upon an industrious “minstrel,” with blackened face, singing the “Two Obadiahs” i ‘woe-begone voice. Nor, when one pressed into the Town-Hall and sat ait the jury consisted of half-a-dozen griuning hobbledchoys anda like number of giegling girls (albeit pretty and nicely-dressed), was the illusion dispelled. Mr. and Mrs. Barrack did not. remind the poctic spectator of turtle-doves; they looked a. me- ly, affectionate, honest pair; they were dressed in'their Sunday best. and they eyed the si bacon—and a tempting side of bacon it w with a grimearnestuess. Messrs. Tege and Savill acquitted themseives of their parts ereditably; there was singing ‘and piano-playing, but tie trial was the burlesque of a burlesque. Mr.and ‘Mrs. Barrack laughed, the jury laushed, but the President and Mr. Savill maintained a dignified composure. There were neither barristers nor witnesses; there was no examination; a lew questions were simply put by Mr. Tegy as to the state of relations between Mr. and Mrs. Barrack, and then they were adjudged the gam- mon amid murmurs of approbation and gratulation. A procession wa: outside, beralded by a “mar: who Was evidently uot qualities rough rider in # crack cavalry regiment. Be- hind him marched a Yolunteer band, playing “See, the Conquering Hero Comes”; ona pole was burne the conquered bacon, then some banners with strange devices, followed by the central figures of the fete, curried mao roomy chair. supported on men’s shoul- ders; next the jury in an_ open carriage, the “officers of the court,” and lastly the populace. The procession strageled to an i closed meadow on the gravelly hill by the Ch mer, where a number of show-booths, ehooting- galleries, and fruit-stalls had been erected. ‘The flitch was hung up to the admiring gaze of the population on a platform, on which some acrobats had been tumbling, ana under which a Punch and Judy show wis about to open. - Sud- denly, down rushed an overwhelming shower, and damped the ardor of Duamow. “It would have been cruelty to ask of any mere stranger to wait to see what followed; the rain was not to be resisted. No amount of good nature would justity onc in recording that this attempt at a celebration was not a dreary failure. There was an absence of heartiness in the whole thing, the sense ¢ of) humor was conspicuous by its ab- sence, and Donmow may as wi once give u| the notion of rivaling the blithesome Snaual festival of the crowning of the rosicre at Nan- Le pimeph pire the gat cliinate of d ntagious i itors can also be bespoken. ~ Yaey OF H Ys ——= THE MILAN CATHEDRAL. Milan Corresnondence vhiladelphia Tetegrayh. The glory of Milun is that eignth wonder of the world, which is equal to all the other seven, 'asruns the proverb, I mean the Cathedral. Hypercritical people will'tell you that there i stight defect in its architecturo, as if there ra evera perfect thing on earth. They will tell you that it is bound to discover what the archi- tects wanted to make out of such a conglomera- tlon; and that its 106 Gothic turrets and 4,300 statues are a great waste of moncy, labor, and marble, Softly, nob so fast. It is these peo- ple’s notions that are a little conglomerated. This temple is as chaste and simple as it is rich snd beautitul. Itsyvery stone tells plainly that it was built for the eye of God, not for the eye otman. But the result equally proves that man never so well serves his fellow-man as when he works with a single eye and heart for the glor: of God. Let ime say, in conclusion, tat work on this church is never finished, at {east a hundred mén are employed dally ‘upon some portion, either completing or repairing. It is a great surprise to a stranger to find It externally so fresh and white, only the lower portions of the marble being stained by age. ‘The solemn beauty of the interior {s not impaired by any distracting effects. It has nothing worth men- tioning in the way of side chapels or monu- ments to divert the attention. The statue of St. Bartholomew flayed alive may be a fine work of art, but itis in questionable taste, and too small to attract much notice. Trutn compels me to say, however, thata stranger's first im- pressions are wonderfully cooled when he dis- covers that the marvefous fretwork of the ceiling is,—but no, I will not retract a single compliment £ have paid to this wondertul church, If you want to know what I was about to say, 20 to Milan and sce for yourself, and if you find any defect come homie and acknowl- edge that it is overcome by many merits. As the wlory of Milan fs the Cathedral, so the glory of the Cathedral, speakinz in 2 material sense, is {ts shrine of St. Charles Borromeo, Cardinal Archbishop of Milan. Directly infront of the Itar is the crypt with an. opening in h the roof, which enables Visitors to look doin Into the chapel or hear mass there without actu- ally descending, but to suc the splendors of this unique and magniticent mausoleum the deacent to the interior is necessary. ‘The marble walls are covered with plates of solid silver, exch pre- sentin in 2 species of renousse work a scene in the lite of St.Charles. The coffin, which rests on the back of the little altar, is also of solid silver. It was the elit of Phillip 11. of Spain. Foa a very reasonable gratuity, considering the trouble and privilege attendant upon the open- ing of the collin, visitors are permitted toscethe bauy. Ontwo days of the year it is exposed publicly. Few persons, comparatively, avail themselves of the opportunity at any other time. 1, however, paid my tariff and will tell you what Isaw. ‘The sacristan, 2 very gentle- manly young man, turned a large crank at the side Of the altar, and little by little the massive sides of the coffin began to descend, like the sinking scenes of a stage, leaving the velvet- lined lid suspended in the air. My surprise that the chapel doors were not closed, to prevent the large crowd outside from secing the body, was now explained by the fact that it cannot be seen atany distance through the glass case beneath the silver exterior. Lwas requested toapproach closely. Suddenly a strong ilood of iieht was thrown upon the case. and thus, plainly visible, lay the dead and sainted Cardinal in his pon- tilical robes. There is nothing whatever revolting in the sight. ‘There has been attempt, after the usual Indian style, of covering the face. with a wax fac-simnile, and then dressing the figure up to look like a stage-dancer; but, attired simply in his Episcopal robes, he lies there precisely as he was in life, saving only the changes which 300 years of death have rendered inevitable. A morc superb instance of successful embalming is probably not to be found. The face is, of course, entirely mummified, if 1 may use ‘the expression, and the nose, which is a’ so specially prominent feature in all portraits of the Car- inal, is almost entirely gone, but the massive brow is there in all its life-ke grandenr, and the general contour of the features, so well pre- served, almost speak of: sweet repose. The Episcopal robes in which the body is clad. with the exception of the very plain mitre, are of the Tichest description. They were the giit of Philip LV. of Spain. Over the breast is suspended, trom the Hd of the coffin, an emerald cross, the jewels of which sur- pass description for their magnificence. 1 thought as 1 looked at the splendid tribute of the devotion of Maria Teresa, of Austria, how many a Queen of society would yearn to devote ‘it toless sacred purposes. Over the head is also suspended a silver coronet of beautiful work- manship, the offering, if 1 remember rightly, of a Duchess of Parma and Modena. Various other little jewels are deposited around the coffin, and J could not help reflecting how much morereal respect, reverence, and Jove was ex- hibited towards the dead in this effort to pre- serve his form as in life and surround it with those magnificent but chaste tributes of affec- tion, than fn the usual cxtravagance of pompous monuments and tawdry decorations which cen- erally express Italian grief. Before [ close 1 must not fail to mention that I went this morning to eee the original “ Last Supper ” of Leonardo Da Vinci. Do not believe the reports which tell you that it is almost en- tirely defaced. it is, indeed, very much injured by time or accidencal causes, but even through its serious blemishes it fairly astounded me. It has impressed me more than any masterpiece of painting I have ever seen in Europe. it is a glorious picture, and startling in its vivid reali- zation of the effect of those terrible words: “Amen, amen, J say to you, oncof youis about to betray me.” The characteristics. of the dif- ferent Apostles on heaving the announcement are wonderfully developed on the canvas. OLD AND NEW PARIS. Haris Correspondence Londan Globe, The Latin quarter is fast disappearing. The wholesale pulling down of houses which has taken place to make way for new streets and poulevards has swept away nearly all our tra- ditional Jandmarks. The Faubourg Saint Ger- main has not escaped the hand of the demolisseur. Some say that the majority of the Paris Munici- pal Council, acting on the advice of one of its members, M. Nadaud, a large contractor, bas made up its mind to equalize everything in the building world, destroying the crying reproach to the moncy-grubbing house-owners in new Paris, who allow no more space for tbe five rooms en suite which compose our modern apartments than used formerly to be reserved for one of the smaller salons in the famlly man- stonsof the old faubourg. Baron Haussmann, who kuew few scruples where his improvements were concerned, conceived the plan of the Boule- yard Saint Germain. Hecommencedat both ends, meeting with very little resistance until he be- gan to trench on the family estatesof those who. sulki nder the Empire and absent, had still influence enough to preserve their property from the ruthless pick-axe of the demolixeeur. ‘Tables of compensation were drawn up by the municipal authorities, a jury was formed, and arbitration settled every claim, until at last the Latin quarter was traversed by the new boule- yard, Baron Haussmann resting on his laurels and declining the onus of au attack on the privileges of the anclenne noblesse. The col- Jeagues of M. Nadaud have, however, carried out the project. The machinery of the law has been set in motion; lawyers’ clerks have been busy serving writs of ejectment at the houses of men whose ancestors would have considered that parchment was an exccllent addition to the ive organs of the unfortunate scribes. The Hotel de Luignes and other family man- sions have been pulled down, and in time we shail find the ground on which they stood oc- cupied by cafes and restaurants, where the Au- vergnat and the Savuyard will hold their wed- ding feasts and dance their bourrce. that national jig which reminds one of the bear on hot bricks. “Phe next generation vill know nothing of old Paris, and the descriptions they will find in books will be hardly credited hy those who find themselves surrounded by palaces. Theground is being turned over, deep foundations are being dug. and the secrets of the past century unveiled as traces of our contemporaneous his- tory are being hidden from view, living only in the memory of the few. L’Abbaye, that sinis- ter prison-house, formerly a portion of the Monastery of St. Germain des Pres, where the prisouers of the Revolution were massacred by the bands of Marat and Robespierre, is no more: the house where Marat lived until Char- lotte Corday. purged the earth of u monster has been leveled to the ground, and nothing re- matns to mark the spot where the blood-thirsty 4sraut once entertained his friends. All kinds of discoveries are being made. Tne contractor who has undertaken to clear away the houses and watch over the dieging of the foundations hashad to establish an office *here treasure-trove can be stored. Old coin are being found, fragments of china, medals, and repoxsst work. When the Commune in 1871 searched every rclicious house inthe hopelof finding treasures of gold and silver, great noise was made about some human remains discovered under the earth im the cel- lars of the Convent of Picpus. There were skeletons of children and adults, and ve charges were brought against the sisterhood. ‘The accusetions became, in public opinion, even fscovery of some Dilgrimace more serious, owing to the di instruments of torture. A Was made to the convent, whero the bones, aud. rusted iron thumoscrews, and boots were osten- tatiously displayed. Public indignation was great, and no one would listen to any explana- tion until documents: were produced showing that within twenty years¢he convent had been transformed into an infirmary for women and children, special attention being paid to ortho- pedic cases. The tempest in’ the teapot was specdily at an end, and the orthopedical instru- ments wera hidden away.* ike the streets of Pompeii, the subterranean assages of Paris are boing lald bare. In clear- ing away sotnc houses between the Rue de Ren- nes and the Rugie Bac, some strange discov- eries have been made. Digging out ome old foundations the workmen came across a vault, which at one time bad been used as ap ossuary. In one corner was found a vault of penitence,” like that in which Constance de Beverley was immured ‘for broken vows and convent ited.” A hollow stone pillar, over what had evident]: beena acer well, was joined on to a raised col. fin-like niche, in which the victim was placed, the only means of exit being the one short step leading to the well. Some surmise that, owing to the niche being raised above the level of the und, fire was placed under it and the luck- fess wretch had to choose between being slowly roasted alive or Toluatery death by drowning in. the well. Time had dealt so harshly with the stone that an attempt to remove the “in paco” paged a failure, and it has been destroyed bit y dit, the stone crumbling away ag the earth around it was disturbed. Another house hns been pulled down which has managed to obtain a certain importance witn the gossips of the Latin Quarter. It was called the “Suicide’s Hotel,” and had a most unenviable reputation. It was an hotel meuble, and became infected some ten years ago with a suicidal mania. A young student, despairing and in love, blew his brains out in the room he occupied, and just one year after another student, in the same house and the same room, committed suicide in the samc manner after losing his tnoney ina low gambling house. The owner of the hotel, alarmed at the fate whicn had befallen. the two occupants of the room, refused to gHow any one to live init, and caused it be trausformed into a box and lumber receptacle. A few mouths afterward the waiter, accused of naving purloined some articles of wearing apparel from a lodgor, stole away to the lumber-room, where he was found hanged, and the owner of the house, in despair, sold his lease and left a place where the demon, of suicide seemed to" rufe supreme. Tha hotel was sold again and again, but none could keep it, A strung-minded druggist took the premises and carried on his business, duspising tradition and laughing at the old gossips, whose ‘stories had enabled him to make such a bargain. Domestic misfortunes shouk the cynicism of the unbe- Hever, who, finding his wife had deceived him, retired to the room which had become the cham- ber of death, and there poisoned himself with his own drugs. The whole quarter was up m arms, public opinion demanded that the fatal room shonid be walled up, but the new owner laughed at the fears of his neishbors, and de- clared that he meant to occupy the chamber in question. At last notice was given that the. lace was about to be pulled down to makeroom for the Boulevard Saint Germain. An indem- nity of £10,000 was demanded, but refused, and the jury having decided that £3,500 was, ample compensation the owner grew despondent and declared he was a ruined mav. He was com- pelled to accept the money and was ejected in due course, but afew ways ago he asked per- mission to visit the old premises before the! were pulled down. His request was granted, and nothing more was heard of him until the demolisseurs went into the place, where they found him hanging by the neck’ in the fatal room. BISMARCK AT HOME, + London World. Acentury ago, when Berlin was surrounded by walls, which continued to exist until about. 1860, the upper portion of the Wilhelmstrasse was the quarter of the town chiefly affected by Ministers and diplomatists. Bismarck’s resi- dence, lying exactly halfway between the Leip- ziger and Wilhelmstrasse, is a one-storied build- ing, devoid of every external ornament. ‘The frontage is extensive, and embraces about twelve windows. The entrance to the house is onthe right hand side. After havine crossed through the large portico, one arrives at a stair- ease, symbolically guarded by two sphinxes’ heads. On the ground floor are the official bureaus, and up-stairs the private rooms of the Chancellor. These apartments, furnished at the beginning of thecentury, consisting of a large danciog-room over the gateway, and four large drawing-rooms reserved for the’ reception of guests and other social purposes, look out upon tne street. The sarge lotty library or study of the Chancellor is situated at the back, and commands a view of the magnifi- cent en. Since Bismarck left intercourse with foreign diplomatists to Baron Billow, the Sceretary of State, he seldom appears within the chambers really ¢onstituting tho Foreign Office. Private telegraph wires keep him informed of the course of affairs, and be issues his instructions accordingly. Former] the hours chiefly devoted by Bismarck to work were in the night. Latterly, however, an in- crease of his neuralgic pains has warned him not to turn night into day. Imperatively ad- monished by his physicians, he no longer in- duiges in the heayy drinks—notably porter mixed with champagne, which used to be his favorite beverages. At his meals only the lightest and most digestible dishes make their appearance. fic himself draws up every morn- ing with his chef de cuisine the menu for the day; and even if Ambassadors are walting in the ante-chamber, the cook is received without delay. Ad$able he notes down such critical ex- pressions ob the dishes as “trop cuit,” “pas tendre,” for the instruction or reproof of ‘his cook. His kitchen is overwhelmed by his ad- mirers with spccial delicacies of the season, and productions in which various provinces excel, such as Westphalian ham, Zauer or Frankfort sausages, Strasburg pates, A Jively and euter- taining host, he possesses the gift, rare in Ger- mans, of causerie; and whilst in Parliament on public occasions his speeches are delivercd with manifest effort, he is in private an easy and un- constrained conversationslist. = Bismarck leaves Berlin for a spa or bis favor- ite country seat, Varzin, which -he purchased after the war of 1866. In thecanital he is rarely met beyond the precincts of the Forcigu - Otlice rdens. His constant companion in his walks is Sultan, a spleadid Danish mastiff, presented tohim by a fricod in South Germany. His growing corpulence—not, however, dispropor- tionate to his heicht—has compelled him to give up riding. His personal presence is almost too well known to need description. Smaif fect and hands, bald head, lotty brow, smali gray eyes indeep sockets, almost. hidden by bushy eyebrows, and martial moustache, “now nearly white, which covers his mouth, are the features chiefly noticeable in the man.> He usually wears uniform—for the most part ‘that of the Seventh Cuirassiers—which . consists eitber of a white coat, with a cuirass and a large hemlet, or a blue undress coat, with a yellow collar. He only appears at court on state occa- sions, alleging, as excuse for his absence, that standing fatigues him. The more correct ex- planation is that among the leading personages: in the entourage of his Majesty are several of his bitterest personal and political foes. More than once he has almust come to blows ‘with some of his fellow-courtiers in the Imperial ante-chamber, and an altercation three. years ago with Count Nesselrode, the Lord High Chamberlain of the Empress, a stanch Catholic, was followed by mutual challenges to a duel, which the interference of the Emperor alone prevented. ——— LURED. Ye rippling wayes, with your foam-crests bright, How ‘you sparkle, and beckon, and tempt me to- night! Do you know of my sorrow, my sim, and my shame? If I plone ‘neath your depths, will they wash out all stain? ‘Tell me trac of my fate, as ye murmur to-night: Uf I sink ‘neath your waves, will my burdens grow Tight? Tow ye beckon me hence! And your marmurings jow " -¢ eoftest of whispers, that urge me to 20 from the snares of the world und the abame that Is That ‘far down in your depths T can hide for ait ti : as yo epackle £0 bright, ime. But whisper again, ‘will may burdens if I plunge ‘neath your depths, grow tight? at my feet—then recede as ye came! Tow ye ocibisper: Come, hide all your shame Where the sunlight turns amber, and glistens be- low! st of whispers ye urge me to go eee the coral pink-tiated, will close round my If, safe ‘in your bosom, I rest from Life's storm. low ye surge at my feet, and still beckon to met Ben uay false who tell of the treacherone Sea. Ye offer me shelter. No matter what shame May darken my life, or may tarnizh my name, in your beautifal depths how happy I'll be, Lulled forever to rest by the surge of the Sea, I come to your bosom, low-murmuring waves, Since ye give me sweet rest—since ye give mea grave. Kane erchance i shall slnmber, still hearing your song, Rees epemaide make merry ane Summers How penceful, how quiet, t then will be, low peaceful, how quiet, my rest Down, deep mala the treasures and wealth of the Seat AvG. 10. 1877. Avupnrr Vanxox- THE GAME OF DRAUGHTS, commanatessat intended for this Department show! sssed to THE Teno sbould be ada snd indorsed CURCKER-PLAYERS’ DIRECTORY. Athonzum, Noe: 63 and 65 Washington etreet. PROBLEM NO. ss. ‘Cuanuzs J. Davis, Chicago. Black. gy Y, Uh s7ele a WE” CE wt £Ey ys an flee Ee Ly Ly % : hth. Udide iA YYE GOB “t YE YY Woe Y LE meme is White. White to move and win. POSITION NO. 28. By C. C, Haskrs, Chicago, Black men. GA, Ms Kings, 7, 8, 23. ute men, 17, 30, 32; Kings, 16, 22, White to play and win. ela a ——— 1 TO CORRESPONDESTS. J. E. Stebbins—Answer by mail. J. Zanoni~Commanication received. W. B. Fonville, Kankakee—Thanks formation, Aoeibe tee C. C. E.—Thanks for your kind cont which are placed on file te ccimianee ee Prank A. Fitzpatrick, St. Louis—Communica- tion received, Hope you will not fail to do so, Correspondents shoula always allow their full pame to accompany their coimmanications. Wo will only publish their initials when requested. D. W. Pomeroy, City—The moment you pla; 11-15 at 21st move, you allow White a clear deat 98 foliows: 16-11, 7-16, 20-11, 5 1-5, 9-14, 10-6, 18-23, 11-7, ry from your var. (1) at the star move, 6-10, and 23 this establishes the draw, it renders the balance of your Ofteen variations, which you have worked up with so much care, of little practical value. The only Black win is by folfowing the line of play shown ia the printed solution. Be is in New York Clay tevl asi fowen is in New York City, ing conc! (Or with the metropolitan players: STE a > Br. Merry visited Providence on the 28th ult. and defeated Mr. Freeman, the elty champion, by ¢ following score: Aferry, 25; Freeman, ‘12; drawn, 7; total, 34. bid ae Mr. Gross, of St. Louis, visited Galveston, recently, and, with the champion checker player there, made’ the following score: Gross, 48; Canan, 4; drawn, 10; total, 62. Our St. Louis correspondent, Prof. Frank A. Filepstrick, will pass trough this city anoat the 28th inst., and if property approached might de induced to stop long enough to try the strength of his skill with some of the Chicago players. ‘Mr. Thomas Doran, proprietor of the Checker Piayers' Headquarters in Brooklyn, where Yates Gefeated Wyllie and | Martins, was assaulted at hie place of business on the 28th ult. by four rowdies, trom the effects of which he died on the 31st ult. Cnicaco, Aug, 11, 1877.—0. D. Orcis, Draught Editor Tribune: 1 hereby challenge you to play me twenty games of draughts for the champlon- ship of the Northwest, to be played at the Athe- nacum within twouty days of date. Respectfully yours, Cannes Herren. ‘A friendly match at draughts betweon_ the Gal- ston and Mutrkirk Clabs came of on Saturday, June 30, at Muirkirk. Fifteen players aside were engaged, and, at the close of the play, It was found that victory had deciared fof the Gaiston team bya majority of 9 wins, the score being: Galston, 29; Mutrkirk, 20; drawn, 11.—Glasgow-Herald, Mr. R. E. Bowen. the noted player of Millbury, Mass., was in Boston a fow days ago, and with some of the players there made the following SOLUTIONS. Solution to Problem No. 25, 13— O(a) eo T= 3(2) 1i—16* 6-13, 10-705, 6-10 | 20~1 14-10 a6 bry 10-14 Drown. 10-6 7-10 st aM 3-18 2 1-5 Wo e— el 10-14 rn s Mel? Drawa. Be oad | | prawn. (a). 22~17 will also draw by critical play. Solution to Position No. £5. 2-23 w-1L eS end 8-3 Hu Ml 18—-23 27-32 oa |S I~ 7 1-19 bs yi; 227 [White winr GAME NO. 86—-WILL 0° THE WISP. Played ina friendly match between Messrs. Fitz- patrick and Schindler, of St. Louis, Mo. Schindler's move. 2-16 | 1 i 1g—23 2-9 maT wig | Fitzpatrick won. B—3 | Fitzpat- 28 | rick won, ports (Drawn. 31-27 2-18 Played by Prof. Robert Martins and Mr. T. J Forrest at Terre Haute, Ind. (Contributed by Dr. W. M. Purcell.) Martins’ move. nis 15 n-w . Martins afterwards ne on ete by Gon Ws, Sot 1510, Bas Aipaly showed how Str. Forrest might re by won. stated that he ahould 1910. (b) fie also have drawn hei B-u | 10-6 1-5 [30-23 | IT B15 [10-15 | 10-6 | 16-19 | 14-18 19-10 G1 | 2s-22 | B5—2t | 1T—14 Bae | as-10 6. | 19-24 raw. din care Mr. Forrest had so played, it would have been the best game he hed played in Terre ante up to that rime. W. M.-P. GAME NO. 88~SINGLE CORNER. Pinyed in Cincinnati between Messre. Hutzler and Scott. Hintzler’s Move. }ae jh 30-19 | ios 2-16 | iio | (ou wo | oo ws fi, amie | w= Cac oss | 2 2-7 | w-17 {xbo3 | im E NO. g0-SWITCHER. Played in Ciheazo between Mr. Heary Hatzler, of Cincinnati, O., and Mr. J. ‘W. Howley, of Chi- engo. ‘ Howiey’s Move. nes] eD so [iets [Sw Hos ‘es | s | a | 5 fo [ae picts | es ord 3-5 «| isi | 25-29 sl B11 | 2-25 72 a6 fis ou | ese | to imo | 1-12 oy jsf as | es | et fey | tcis | ea.) 2s | a0 ato [2-1 | 25-29 | SO-ak. | 128 Si9 jie | zs | was | 10-7. Bo |e (Ee |e -|et ‘10 Fant a 1S +