The New York Herald Newspaper, August 4, 1872, Page 8

REGICIDE IN SPA The Attempt on the Life of King Amadeus, ROME LE, ASSASSINATION IN SPANISH POLITICS, The Cause and Effect of Gen- eral Prim’s Death. THE KING WARNED OF HIS DANGER. He Visits the Garden Buen Retiro and Strolls Around Alone. THE MIDNIGHT ASSAULT. Three Volleys Discharged Into the Royal Carriage. EN eed HOW THE QUEEN'S LIFE WAS SAVED. Surprising Valor and Presence of Mind of Amadeus. + THE FIGHT WITH THE ASSASSINS. PES SE a Madrid in a Ferment of Enthusiasm. THE KING'S MIDNIGHT LEVEE MapDRID, July 19, 1872. The slow and disma) quietude of these summer days has been interrupted by a circumstance that, falling upon Spain like a bolt from the blue, makes Madrid, for the day, a scene of passion and wonder. At midnight an attempt was made to kill the King and Queen, and all Madrid 1s in the streets talking itover. The telegraph will anticipate the mere de- taille of the attempt. The story, however, has a Bistorical and dramatic aspect which the telegraph a@voids, and this I give you now. ASSASSINATION AS A POLITICAL EXPEDIENT. When Mr. Buckle discussed the aspects of nature im their bearing upon human character and destiny he should have told us why it is that in these warm epuntries nothing is more indifferent than human iife. Macaulay, in detailing an account of the at- tempt to kill King William II. felicitates the Eng- Ush people upon the fact that assassination, as a political expedient, had never been welcomed by ‘the English nation. America cannet say as much, although the murderer of Mr. Lincoln had in his veins the warm oriental blood which courses through these strange, sober people of the Peninsna—which makes blood in any form @ welcome sight. I never could under- stand the Inquisition until 1 saw a bull fight, and the bull fight isas much atype and reflection Of the Spanish character as the Derby is of England, or an election day of America, The Spanish have always welcomed bloody methods of solving rell- gions or political problems. When a man becomes troubleseme it was easy to kill bim. And as he conldn't live for ever— why not? It was so with the Moors, It ‘was so in their treatment of the Jews. In the | man to clear the way, | men in cloaks and masks advanced to the windows | of the brougham, made sure they saw Prim, rai magnificent cathedral of Toledo, where stupendous grace and majesty recail all the mediwval glory of | faith and make you inadvertantly offer homage to that Saviour, where worship develops such beauty, you will see a picture of a chubby-cheeked, blue- | eyed infant child nailed on a cross in the agonies of | Geath, while a Jew is standing on the rungs of a | ladder and digging ont ite heart with a Knife. The | painting is a marvel of force and color, and one, | even in our cold and patient and skeptical age can- mot look upon it without a shiver. You will learn that this pictured fable was an article of faith in tne earlier times, and that faithful Spaniards reconciled ft to their conscience to rob the sons of Abraham and then torture them, because a Jew had upon occasion crucified a child and torn its heart out. Why speak of the Inguisition and the auto- @a-fe? You know how during the French occupa- tion under Murat the Spaniards made assassination @ principle of military and political law, and when- ever they found a Frenchman they killed him. And the people of this generation have their feast days, ‘when the heroes of this principle have an apotheosis, | ‘and all Spain honors their memory as deliverers. And we ourseives, and those who write about these events in English volumes, gladly honor that stern patriotism of Spain, which would never yield to the foreigner, which really meant that when the | foreigner could not be conquered by the sword the stiletto and the cup were natura) and necessary ‘weapons. Death solves so many problems that the | Spanish mind finds it a sure and promptally. DHE ASSASSINATION ANTICIPATED. Therefore everybody has been expecting some- thing of this nature in the present crisis, are becoming very dull here,” said a friend who has clear and cynical views about Spain; ‘we have had Beither a duel nor an assassination tince the crisis | Montpensier to be tried for complicity with mur- | his side are the Old Serrano is mad enough to shoot some- | began. body, and I wonder that Alamines or Cordova have not challenged him. Montpensier probably feels his investment in Prim's death failed so badly that he will not spend any more money on his party.’’ This coffee-house chat was only a type of what was | being said in every coffee-ouse. Strange above all 4s the cooi manner in which the assassination of Prim is discussed here and accepted universally as one of Montpensier’s political expedients, which failed badly, Ihave heard no one censure Mont- Penster, expecially for his presumed connection | with the event. “Old Montpensier,” said my critical friend, a8 we talked over pot done very w the Prim matter, “has ‘The ill-luck of the family has come to Spain. What a fine grocer was spoiled when he was made a prince! You know he sells Oranges for a living from his Seville gardens, al- though he is one of the richest men in Spain. Ever since the first égalité voted for the King's death Orleantem bas had an evil odor. e French stood Louis Philippe and his umbrella for eighteen years, He wouldn't have remained here eightecn months. You see we have no bourgedisie to speak of. In Spain we are all beggars or hida’gos, and you can- not sometimes tell which is which, We have n room for Mentpensier. This Amadeus would make & good beggar and a good hidaigo—a cause he can ride well and a /idaigo by has courage; and so Spain keeps him in preference to the market gardener, Montpensier, But mark it, this dulness cannot continue. It is not Iberian, We must have a duel or an assassination or the crisis will go to the devil.’ THE ASSASSINATION OF PRIM. ‘That matter of Don Juan Prim, if you remember Mt well, was a clearly, closely planned political ex- pedient, a sort of liberal republican movement, a8 was seen at Cincinnati, What the enemies of Grant did with a convention the enemies of Prim aid with a pistol. You may suspect me of cynicism in de ecribing the murder of Prim and the attempted murder of the King, a8 political expedients ; but this i theif real meaning. The shooting of a man ip & narrow street is easily told; but the American people, as readers of the HERALD, would Silly com- prebend the situation here if they saw these events ax they saw the assassination of Lin- coin or @ mere street affray, Prim was the foremost man in Spain, He held the crown in ie baud, NGL Ay CHDRIOWIE AUAYISTEA Hs vg: “Matters | NEW YORK HERALD, SUNDAY, AUGUST 4, 1872—TRIPLE SHEET.. mands of Spanish character that he became to Spain what Cromwell was to England or Bonaparte to France. He might have taken the crown, but he knew that it would simply make him the target for every rival’s pistol. For a long time he veered between the dynasty that was anda new dynasty— one that he could command. The dynasty that Was had no secret love for him, He might have peace with it, and call in Montspensier or Alphonso and receive adukedom and be the first subject of Spain, Ent the first flush of gratitude over, he could easily be sent to the Canaries as he had been sent out before, He would not pronounce for a republic, as he had a soldier’s vanity and weakness about titles, and preferred to be first subject of a monarchy, Captain General and Duke, Prince, per- haps, with ali manner of decorations and dignities, than to be simple John Prim, first citizen of Spain. When he made his decision but one thing remained. If Amadeus came to the throne there was no room for any old dynastic prince in Spain. He could only rule Spain by the aid of Prim, Serrano did not ike him—wanted to be king himself, Topete was known to prefer Montpensier. Without Prim Amadeus would find his throne of sand, And so the most expedient thing to do was to kill Prim, There was no anger In it, no dislike to Prim; no doubt some of the men who thus coun- selled were his friends, It was agreed upon just a8 Mr. Disracli and his associates arrange a motion of want of confidence in Mr. Gladstone and go into Parliament and vote upon it, The opposition to Prim had a “want of confidence” in him and they could only vote him out by shooting lum, That being resolved upon, the time was discussed, And here the Spanish political instinct was finely illustrated, Amadeus was to arrive in Carthagena on a certain day, after He was to two days’ trip over the Mediterrancan. be received in Carthagena by Prim and escorted to Madrid in great state. If he heard of Prim's death before leaving Italy he would postpone his journey simply, but would still be King elect, But should he arrive in Spain, and, instead of meeting his great ally and subject, hear of his murder, would he not abandon the country in terror and fly from & fate that gave him premonitions of his own’ This was most probable. He could on!y flee from Spain by renouncing the crown, Prim dead, Amadeus & fugitive and the crown renounced, nothing re- mained but for Montpensier, as the Prince of the Asturias, to enter upon the throne. So these able and astute politiclans reasoned and go they acted. Prim had again and again been warned of attempts upon his life. He paid no atten- tion to them. H d been a conspirator himself and he knew what power involved. He probably lstencd to the stories as Mr. Gladstone would listen to a story that Mr. Disraeli and Lord Salisbury were conspiring to overthrow his ministry. Here thin, belonged to the irresistible in Spanish politics. He could not <void ft. All that remained was for him to meet It with courage and dignity when it came. And this he did. As it was, the chances were more in his favor than those of the opposition, as nothing is so uncertain as assassination and in a political sense so unsatisfactory. So when Prim was warned of his danger and shown police reports and begged to take some precautionary measures he smiled. Of course there was danger, It required no police spy to assure him of that. But what measures could he take? He was a Min- ister of Spain. As such Minister he had certain duties to perform. Their performance involved this very danger. He could only avoid it by hiding in a trunk, and that was impossible. So he went his daily life without changing his habite, and did not even direct his coachman to vary his route when driving from the Cortes to his home in the War Office. It was his custom to ride home from the sessions in & coupé or brougham with an aid. The War Ofice was only five minutes’ ride from the Cortes, There were several routes. One was b; the Prado, and so into the Alcala—the two widest an most public streets in Madrid, and in the ay dusk thronged with people. Another route would have been along the Calle San Geronimo, a street as public as the Bowery, and thence into the Aleala. But Prim’s custom was to turn from the Cortes into the Calle Turcos, go from thence to the Alcala, which street it joined almost immediately in front of the War Office. The Calle Turcos is one of those streets peculiar to Madrid and the peninsular towns, Narrow, tortuous and winding, it was built after the Moorish plan of having streets into which tne sun would not shine, and through which the cold pierciug winter winds from the snowy Guada- amas would not blow; streets which would be cool in summer and warm in winter. It would be impossible for two carriages to in this street without one encroaching on the sidewalk. I d across it the other evening and it measured less than five paces from wall to wall, By this route Prim | drove home. The day atter Amadeus left Italy ) Prim remained at the Cortes until after the sun set. He was to start in the morning for Cartha- gena to meet the young King. He stepped into his brougham with an aid and bade the coachman drive home through the Calle Turcos, When he reached the corner, a# the street merges into the broad and open Alcala, the carriage-way was im- peded by another carriage, which was halted. His coachman stopped and called upon the other coach- At this instant five or six their weapous from under their cloaks, fired and quietly strolled away. The coachman dashed into the wide street apd home to the War Office, Prim said nothing. Reaching home he stepped from the carriage, leaning on his aid. His wife, rather auxious at his delay, was waiting for him at the head of the stairs, Her first remark wae an inquiry as to his delay. Seeing that he was pale she then asked if | anything alled him? “Yes,” he sala quietly, press- ing his shoulder, “they have hit me.” ‘They had wounded him in a half dozen places. He went | into his room and laid down upon tbe bed upon which yn a few hours he died, Before death he said that he had been shot by the friends and political | associates of the Duke of Montpensier. | THE EFFEC OF PRIM’S DEATH-—POLITICAL ASSAS- SINATION A FAILURE. And so died Juan Prim. 1 have told yon the | story of this world-famous, much-aspiring man, and | the manner of his going out of Spanish politics as | the leader of a Ministry because in the drama of | Amadeus—which was 80 nearly being a tragedy a | few hours since—his career formed the first and most striking act. The political consequences of the death of Prim were so disheartening to those | who believe in assassination as an accepted politi- | calexpedient that one would think the Spanish | mind would thiow it aside as something obsolete and unworthy. Amadeus, instead of ranning | home to his*father’s fireside when he landed at | Carthagena and heard from the trembling lips of | the blu old, sea-dog and | Topete, the terrible news of insisted upon going to Madrid—the brave dra- | goon!—and riding alone through its streets and taking ‘the crown. Montpensier went The patient, overloaded donkey, laden with huge bas of fruits and vegetabies, stands drowsing in the sun while his master seeks repose. The ca¥s are deserted and the drowsy attendants nod at you in stupid wonder if you ask for a glass of agraz or a Gish of the cooling ci ‘The blazing sun has his will, and although the telegraph tells us that his doings in New York quite rival his most daz- ziing achievements in Spain, you must come to Madrid to know how mereiless he can become. sky here knows no cloud; the distant Guadanama Mountains, with their snow-wreathed summits, blink at you, and the keen winds come rushing down at with wintry flerceness that search you through and through until you shiver. So the day passes on until the evening, and the city pours into the Prado. Lovely Spanish maidens, with eyes that look meltingly upon you and eyelashes that fringe faces tawny and olive, and @ beauty that is sometimes terrible, stroll in groups, making the air merry with laughter and speaking the language of the ‘fans, which for one's soul's peace, perhaps, is @ riddle to stranger eyes. Sturdy Valencian women carry nursing children to the swings and the donkeys and the decorated chil- dren’s cars, and gossip away while their unnoticed burdens drain their ample and well exposed bosoms of the sustenance of life, The sober, courteous Spanish men—swarthy and grave and undersized— saunter and exchange their innocent courtesies, the alr laden with the smoke of their cigarettes. ‘Now comes an ancient hidalgo, scorning the French follies of raiment, retaining his sombrero and cloak and breeches, and around his waist @ broad silken sash of orange or crim- son or blue. Now and then comes a group of bull-fighters, whose odd costumes is never changed—a broad-brimmed hat, with swaying rim; the hair long and twisted up into a cue, like a diminutive Chinese pig-tail; closely-fit- ting Andalusian jackets, with rows of ded but- tons and heavy-braided front; tight pantaloons and gaudy scarfs or sashes—these dart of Madrid are welcome on the Prado, and receive. a. kind of ovation from their followers—an admiring public. So up and down this wide, open place until after cock-fighter, Adiniral | among the sons of men. Prim’s killing, | you Jearn that this is Emilio | orator of Spain and one of the first in the world. midnight there 14a group of ever-changing form and feature and color, love and laughter and gal- lantry, that you will perhaps see nowhere in tne world, It is Spainin a inet picture, all that there is of social life in Spain passing and re) ing, holding high carnival under the shrinki moon and the grateful stars, while you sit in silen and thoughtful review and listen to the music of their strangely melodious tongue as it fills the’ air, and marvel upon the destiny of the antique and illustrious race—once masters of two continents, and now with none so poor to do them reverence. THE GARDEN OF “BUEN RETIRO”—THE NIGHT OF THE ATTEMPT, At the edge of the Prado is an enclosed garden, with a gate on which blazes in gas jets, “Jardin del Buen Retiro.” To-night there is an immense throng at the gate, for it is one of the two evenings in the week when Sefior Dolman and his band of a hun- dred performers give a public concert, This garden was formerly an appanage of the Crown, and was closed to the people. ther the Queen was wont to retreat from the cares of majesty. But when the dynasty fell it was opened tothe people. We pay two pesetas admission—about forty cents in Ameri- can money—and push our way in. We find a pa with densely-growing trees, and a placard informs us peicdenaetatonatreetre re taaeaded g SOCIEDAD DE CONCIERTOS, BAJO LA DIRECCION DEL DALM. Tada nee SR. We are then told that, si el tiempo lo permite (weather permitting), the twelfth concert will be ‘iven, beginning at nine o’clock in the evening. n attendant hands us @ programme, which will have an interest, perhaps, a8 an idea of Spain’s musical taste :— PROGRAMA—Pi Overtura—"'E] Diablo en el RA PART i jotino”, Overtura—“EI suefiode una noche: “Los Campos Kliseos,” tanda de valses. Descanso de veinte minutos. RIK, SkGUNDA 1. “Grotte del Fingal,” sinfoni: s+... Mendelssohn 2. Fantasia sobre motivos de * itant,”* “arreglada por el maestro Barbieri, con solos de flauta, clarinete y cornetin, por los Sres. Sarmiento, Ficher y Boneta Bellini Descanso de veinte minutos, TERCERA PART! “Concepcion,” sinfe or el maestro. 2 “EL Canto del Ma . | cacrita pai todos los instrumentos de cuerda, oboe’ y clarinc! por el socio Sr ‘Marques 3, “Le * quadritie Diable au Bai Metra THE CONCERT IN THE GARDENS. It is nine o'clock and after, and we follow the sound of the music under long avenues ot trees, with gas jets lighting the way, until we come into awide, open space, blazing with artificial light and filled with a company of about six or seven thousand people, In the centre is a raised pavilion, on which a hundred performers are playing a merr. waltz, Senor Dalman himself on his throne, in full dress, with white gloves, beating frantic time. The company are seated on willow chairs, and we sink into one and listen until Sefior Datman turns and bows to the applauding multitude and steps from the platform, and the musicians straggle off to the café, presumably eager for beer, and we find an in- termission of twenty minutes. Well, the music is nothing, for the attraction here is the multitude. Here, strolling in high procession around a circular walk, is all the fashion and rank and beanty of Madrid. And what is there better than to fallin and be one of the merry company? Here to-night, did we but care to enumerate and announce, are the foremost men and women of Madrid. That lady just passing, with her mature beauty and calm smiling eyes and features that show traces of colder blood, is the mother of the late Empress of France, the famous Countess of Montijo. In her train are a group of beauties, in whose cheeks the sangre azul of Spain mounts and flushes in answer to musical compliments from attending cavaliers. In this train and under these over-arching trees, scarcely stirred by the gentle sum- mer breezes, Eugénie as many a time walked, hearing the self-eame story and little dreaming of the strange, odd destiny that was in store for her. Following is a group not un- known to America—the clear-cut face of the Ameri- can Minister, By his side are his wife and dangh- ter, whose features are radiant with the dark, majestic beauty that is born of the Mediterrancan, sun, On the other side of the Minister is the Cap- tain General of Castile, a thin, grave, silver-gray- headed man—the famous General who stood by Montpensicr’s side when he shot the foolish Prince Henry of Rourbon ina duel. This Captain General is a pillar of the dynasty. That busy, nervous person in rapid conversation, with a dark, rugged, powertul lace, that might Be across between Fagin and Mephisto) e ane 1 2 a edicada & In Sociedad Balart former Prime Minister, no’ most likely in conspiracy. Seated on a ina group which he addresses in Fr a figure that arrests your attention. A han mn, frank face, with a high swelling ‘that ova or Thorwaldsen would have rejoiced to e; Masses of black hair that show youth Vigor, a face of enthusiasm if not of strength, @ nose that shows grace, and a mouth of passion and fire; you sec that Nor do you wonder when Castelar, the first THE KING AND QUEEN IN THR GARDENS. So we drift around and aroundin the slow and into banishment to make his peace with his | joyous company—even after Seftor Dolman has cousin Isabella, and live in the splendid and ener- | vating exile of Paris. went with him. | The ghost of Prim stands betwe him and the crown, like another Banquo's spectre, | Only a few days since an oMcial report of an in- v | press, charged him wi death. So Prim himself died believing, So does Spain believe new, And the cafés have been dis- And all hopes of his dynasty | i | than anusic in this splendid panorama of Spanish remounted his platform and begun to play, for, after all, #here 1s something here more attractive But there and we valor and genius and worth and beanty, isa movement of continued attentl tigation, whieh rotate had in vain tried to sup- | stand aside to seek the meaning, and in an instant th being accessory to Prim’s | all hats are raised, and a young man strolls past us in conversation with a lady, and as he idly returns the recognition it is whisperea, ‘The King.” Yes, cussing What Thiers will say in reply to Zorrilla | there betore us, elbowing his way with the rest, is when a demand is made der. AMADEUS THREATENED, So when Amadeus was formally told that his life was in dange for the extradition of | Amadeus |., Duke of Aosta and Kin, of Spain, “At een and a lady of honor, and just behind him are three aides in full unifor A mid- dile-aged auburn-headed man, with a like face in spectacies, converses with His Majesty, and hat there was a conspiracy to kill | just behind the aides, in the miscellaneous crowd, hum—he simply said that be mast do his duty and | are three shrewd, rough bred men, with curi- He could not hide ina t change his habits. He would not invite dan- but would meet it when itcame. The warn- that came to the King’s Ministers were too vague to make any descents or arrests, and Ama- deus attrinuted them to the foolish pranks of peo- ple who wished to annoy him. He was begged not to go out. He replied that be went out every evening, and would not break the raie, He was then as not to go to the concert in the gardens of the Buen Retiro in the evening. He replicd that he haa trust to Providence ni promised the Queen to go, and if he changed his | mind she wonld be alarmed. Furthermore, all Madrid would be there, and as he meant to go to the north in the morning he wanted to see the people. His absence would be misconstrued. If it was thought he hid himself to avoid assassination in Madrid assassins would foliow him everywhere. Lincoln's example tn going to Washington secretly | more character than the King, and strolls at | he was “Yes,” said the King, “ done was was urged. So all that could killed eventually.” to Increase the police force and line the streets | salute | After | | with officers in plain clothing, with orders to arrest all suspicious persons—a very indefinite order in- de ‘At five ih the afternoon the King rode out alone on horseback, He returned to dinner, ant the police reported no suspicious persons. dintug about nine he went with his wife to the gar- dens of Buen Ketiro, General Burgos rode with hitn, and another carriage carried their aides. He would have no escort otherwise. THE GATHERING OF THE ASSASSINS, inight came and no suspicious persons were in a little tavern in the Plaza Mayor there pring of men who had been formerly in ylice, They were watched, but no siga was trade of any The King was to rr rom the gardens at mid- night. ‘That was his custom, anyhow, ahd he was | Known to be eminently a man of custom, About | twelve this gathering’ dissolved an | the Caile Avenal. The police follow their arrest and examination was un | Yon, when suddenly the whole consp! 5 What was done by them will be told in my narra- tive of the movements of the King. “THE PRADO" —MADALD AFTRR DARK. On the outskirts of habited Madrid is the Prado, a long open space, about half a mile in length, planted with trees—at one end the fountain of Nep- tune, at the other the fountain of ¢ with rows of chairs, Which may be engaged for a coupie of pennies by any one who cares to sit and gaze, | Here all Madrid comes when the sun sets, and | holds high conversation under the stars until mid- night. In this land pitiless Nature rules with | heated and burning breath during the day. Then | Madrid seeks shelter, and if any wayfarer ventures | forth itis as if you Walked im a city of the dead, | Stores are closed, windows are draped m dark, | | heavy curtains; labor is suspended, and tiv J aise weeks some shadowed byway to ive. We Raa ew ef Rep isloyal or murderous intention. | kK | ons, searching eyes, in plain dress, who are an- nounced as secret police, shadowing the King and looking after his savet We jook at the King closely see & young, slender man, with tall, spare form, Which he carries erect; a dull, resolute @ nose that might be called retronssé; ® ‘¥, plucky chin, swatbed in @ black beard; kindly, sullen face, that hag litte auimation or ly, & face that knows no fear and not hor laughter; a full but not a marked forehead, and a narrow, pointed head, He is dressed ‘neatly—perhaps over-(ressed—in a dark walking suit, with & Parisian hat: gloved; without decoration oy ornament, and twirls acane, His lady, the Queen, has a dark and apparently, to eyes nor given to millinery criticism, a half-mourn- ing walking costume. She has & strong, winning, beautiful face, with more tact and evidentiy his side in a graceful, easy way, now and then et, thanks and recognition to those who er as she passes along. So the King con- tinued his stroll and Sejlor polman played: now and then he paused a moment to interchange a word with a friend, but, for the main part, durin the two hours he Was in the gardens, he strolle around and aroaud with hia wife at his side, ob- served and observant of five ov six thousand of his subjects, THE MIDNIGHT RIDE INTO THE VALLEY OF DEATH. This evening of the twellth concert the King re- mained until the end, About inidnight he pushed his way in the crowd that swarmed through the ates and stood conversing on the sidewalk while iis carriage drove up. It was an open carriage, like our Jjandaus, and on the box were two servants in powde wigs and scarlet livery, e King and Queen quietly seated themselves in the back seat—General Burgos, @ military in front, Saluting the company # i, the carriage drove away, followed by anoth riven by coael men who wore no livery, in which were two mill- tary and one naval aiies-de-camp., As the King drove away there were hundreds of carriages around, and when !e drove into the Aleald—the wide, open street | runs to the centre of the city—he was preceaed and followed and surround- ed by a mi of vehicles, which were hurrying home from the cert at the gard The wight was singularly clear and beantiful—a night one could conceive as having rested over Eden when the frst. parents dwelt amid nature, innocence and love, BY OF DEATH—THE HRART OF MADRID, The Alcaléis the Broadway, or perhaps the Broad- way and Fifth avenue of Madrid combined, Begin- ning at the Prado, it runs to a wide open public place, with fountains, called the Puerta del Sol, or the Gate of the Sun, one of the gates of old Madrid, and now the tee of the city, The Puerta dei Sol is the heart of Madrid. On one side is the Home Omice, the seat of civil and municipal government, a vast, dark, gloomy granite building. Here are the prinet- The Paak SL NOE SH A Ble PU O4/Hh God has written that here is one tobe memorable | wae | 8ol is never silent but at noon. Brokers sell lottery tickets and ve book lads children ery coe ter upon you 58 lind troubadour will be strumming at ho women with children in their arms pi sone, you with newspapers—for there are forty pul here, and they seem to cry out at all hours of the and night. The favorite night pewapaper, whicl we hear called on all sides in shrill, treble volces, is Al ,@ fierce red republican news r with a fondness for discussing the death of milian and of reminding the King that he isan allen and that Spaniards never looked kindly upon alien kings. Now and then Amadeus ts adv! to buy a ticket for Rome and not to purchase a return ticket. At midnight the clamor reaches the highest, and the war of many voices and the shout- ing freequently last until the sun rises. The wide ‘Alcalé ceases at the Puerta del Sol, and Madrid breaks into small, narrow, tortuous streets, Two of them lead directly to the palace—the Calle Mayor and Calle Arenal. The carriage of the King drove rapidly through the Puerta del Sol and con- tinued into the Calle Paper yen 9 and dingy. The progress of the royal carylage was in- terrupted fora moment by ap empty cab and it came to a halt. ‘THE ATTACK ON THE KING, At this moment, while the King was conversing with General Burgos, there was what seemed to bea rattling discharge of Beray shots, In an instant General Burgos divined the facts, hurriedly seized the Queen and husticd her down into the carriage, and at the same time. endeavored to throw his body over that of the King, Amadeus, however, in- stantly arose and stood erect, and surveyed the scene & moment. The coachman dashed past the obstructing cab and continued at full speed down the narrow strect. Another discharge was fired at the distance of twenty yarde— still another—and some say a _ fourth. continued The royal carriage to the palace, the Guees crouching, the King sitting erect and apparently unmoved. his entered pal ard one of the horses fell de: He had been wounded by a bullet intended to kill him and arrest the King’s progress that murder might be easy. He lived long enough to draw his master home and died. The Queen was calm—especially 80 considering that her situation js said to be of @ character so interesting and critical that any great shock or emotion would reach another life than her own. “Thank God, we are here alive!” she simply said to General Burgos when she stepped from the carriage. And when the General spoke in anger of the attempt, she added that there were assassins in all countries, THE MIDNIGHT FIGHT WITH ASSASSINS. In the meantime, as soon as the shots were fired, tne aids of the King, who were in the carriage be- hind him, and who were armed, jumped out and made an assault upon the assassins, who were now grouped along the street. The police assisted, and what began as an attempted assassination was now a street combat. One of the assassins wag shot instantly and another wounded. This combat Tan along and diverted from the life of the King. All the rties in the vicinity were arrested, ‘The population, especially the miscellaneous crowd ino the Puerta del Sol, rushed into the narrow street, and were for hanging all who were in cus- tody. The aids prevented any deed of this kin and the accused were carried to prisoa—in twenty-six. Some, I believe, were women. ALL MADRID HURRIES T0 THE PALACE—THE MID- NIGHT LEVER. In a few minutes the news spread over Madrid, “the King has been shot,” and all kinds of rumors floated on the midnight air. People rushed from their houses, and a tide of noisy, shouting men, women and children began to press down the Calle Major and Avenal to the They swarmed around it, shouting “Viva el Rey,” “Viva la Retna,” and their Majesties were compelled to come on the balcony, where they received such cheers as the; had never heard In Spain. Everybody in Madri who was anybody hurried to the palace to tell the King how happy he was at his escape. The clergymen came ive him God's blessing. The Ministers hastened to sit in council begin investigations. ‘The _ fore Ministers attended to speak the fellcitations of their gov- ernments, Until four in the morning the K'n; held his uproarious and APD levee. Bui there was no sleep for Madrid. It clustered around the palace and hovered over the Calle Avenal and wandered from street to street, shouting ‘Viva el Rey,” and, would the King permit, give the horse a burial worthy of the Cid. THE KING WALKS THE STREETS. Early in the morning the King strolled along the streets alone, curiously observing the bullet marks made by his assailants. In the evening he drove out in the Prado with the Queen. Wherever he ap- eared the cheering was tumultuous, hearty and fons continued. And it was really a comfort to see- the smiling faces of Amadeus and his fair young wife as they rode and bowed to the cheering multi- tude. {hey wore the pleased look of children. ‘THE EFFECT OF THE ASSAULT, So ends the story of this attempted regicide. It would be absurd to give you any speculations. But the mind of Spain, as you can read it now, believes that the men who tried to kill Amadeus are the men who killed Prim. You can only understand these events by reading their logic. Prim’s death was logically an advantage to Montpensier and Isabella. So the men reasoned who shot him, and but for the courage of Amadeus they would have reasoned well. Had Amadeus been killed the same interest would have been served; but the attempt upon Amadeus has destroyed any virtue assassina- tion may have had as a political expedient. He is to-day stronger than he has ever been on the throne. Would it not be strange if the attempt to murder Amadeus should seat firmly upon the throne, at least as firmly as any king can sit upon a throne in this age of crambling dynasties, of revo- lution and progress and change? . ‘A SPANISH ACCOUNT, Tsend you the only account which has ‘appeared ie Spanish paper, translated from to-day’s Ter- A TRUSTRATED REGICIDE. ie villanous and infamous crime was at- ight in this capital, ver: e Calle ha rco, alt in An unworth tempted last ni tails to that of of very different results. rday ithad ki ledge private fe a that rnment has now! je, rivate confidants, that as pted last night. 6 lite of ing would attem| ‘Although His Majesty had likewise knowledge of the con- fidential details he believed them to be false, in his noble and gentlemanly character, and in consequence of the good opinion he had formed of the nobleness (hidalguia) Of this people, and he did not wish to alter his resolution his august wite to the Gardens of the Buen to accompan. he altered his y Retiro, thinking he ‘would alarn resol on. ‘According }, their from the first hours of the nig! companied by General Burgos and an aide-de-camp of the Cuarto Militar. In view of the King’s resolution, the Government had taken Breas precautions, so that, in the jens as wellason the way theretrom’ to the palace, Me mere a large number Of police, with the object of arding against any events that might occur. Their Giajestien returned 10 the palace between eleven and twelve at night, when, on thelr carriage arriving at the ets of end of t lle del Arenal, between the cross ‘Las Hileras, Costanilia de los Angeles and Santa Catalina de Jos Donadie, various assassins there fii some shots from di rma at the royal fOr tunately wi any of them reaching their satis. The carriage stopped for ® moment, — for, as occur! hén the — illustrious eral” Pri ced in tl way, on seeing the approach of their Majesties, a cab, wi the path for @ moment, in whi mortally woundii Kh horses of the royal 4 bergh m geegs , the re, oceurrence, fired on the pote Tiling one of them add severely Younding an- other. e other perpetrators of this incalcalable crime were arrested. As the first shot was tired, which was, we ve, from a trabuco, General Burgos screen the Queen with his body, at the sane time that the roy: e down the cab obstructing the way, continued on to \OTRe ce, Which the wounded h could only gg ye Palace, n, falling down dead immediately on arri it Majesties manitested great presence of mind, the serenity of the Queen after the occurrence be- ing notable—she immediately going to her apartments ‘as if her life and that of her august husband had ot been placed in uch great danger. The n Tated with thre rapidity of lightning, and everybody heard it with the greatest indignation, the peopie repairing on etens to the, Plaza of the Paiace, the civil Governor's and other official centres, some to learn positively that their Majesties had suffered no harm, some to offer them- selves to the Kovernment, protesting ‘against such an un- heard-of attempt, and others to be iniormed oi the first investigations and of the decisions of the Cabinet. The zeal displayed by all, the authorities is worthy of ‘great praise. Aner these details of the crime, which we have acquired in the midst of the indignation produced by i whatcan we say without penetrating into the secrets of the case? Not a word more when we are certain that the government will not rest without unraveling this in- famous plot; and hope that—far irom hiding the crime of the Cale dei Turco—this new attempt will throw a ray of light on the obscure prosecution carried on against the nysteri ins of General Prim. To ws it only re- late their Majesties upon having come out unhu the frat danger in which their lives Were placed, last night, and to congratulate the country also, whose future ‘was 40 inenaced by the in- {righcs of some of its thiserable ememies. ‘ THE ENTHUSIASTIC ORANGEWOMAN. While the Osangemen were passing through Fourteenth street, in parade, on the 12th of last month, an enthusiastic admirer of the Dutch Prince, named Mary Duncan, posted herself on her doorstep, and, as the procession marched past, waved a large, orange-colored sash, at the same time giving vent to her feelings in expressions of admiration for their cau Peter Campbell, a pugnacious son the Emerald Isle, took 8 circu. exceptions to Mra. Duncan's conduct, and, without jon ado, ascended the steps and threw her vio- lentl | verely, | her ‘a infernally, to the pavement, injuring internally, externally and as she herself stated? Peter was 4a! rested and locked up, and was _ yesterda: arraigned before the bar at the Court of Special essions for trial. Mr. Abe H. Hummel appeared as his counsel, and as the evidence against his client was conclusive, he had recourse to the expe- dient of showing that his client was a man of most excellent general character, and therefore should be punished as lightly as possible. The prisoner was remanded for sentence, In the case of the persons recently arrested in Newark on a charge of conspiring to cheat Newark citizens out of bail for Harris, the notorious re- ceiver, and who had an examination afew days | ago, the volice Justice rendered a dectaion yester- day, in which he set forth that the testi- a] al thelr. plan would have defrauded thelr a eded the, citizens out bo ge ad sums. There was no doubt with him but the bonds and ‘were to hold fraudulent, He by ab nny gL tt his u ies for the action of the Grand . Jacks ‘ana ReNtchon were remanded to jail in default of 000 bail each, ‘Misa’? Augusta Harris, whose Ataband has just been rele from Sin; Sing, was fog in $1,600, her counsel, Mr. Guild, going ber The Meeting Between the Herald Cor- respondent and the Great Traveller. Somebody to Blame at Zanzibar—Charges Against Dr. Kirk—Native Firms in Zanzibar Accused of Slave Traffic—The Royal Geo- graphical Society’s Search and Re- lief Expedition Failure and Why It Was a Failure. (From the Bombay Gazette.) The following letter from Zanzibar gives particu- Jara of the meeting between Mr. Stanley, of the New York HERALD, and Dr. Livingstone, and the return of the Livingstone Search Expedition, and also touches on some points which appear to be rather damaging to Dr. Kirk:— t ZANZIBAR, May 30, 1872, Smm—Dr. Livingstone was met with and relieved at Ujiji by Mr. Stanley, of the New York HERALD; consequently the Livingstone Search and Rellet Ex tion is broken up, and the members are en route for England. Mr. Stanley found Livingstone i and almost destitute, but the Doctor soon re- cove! health and strength, and the two crossed the Tanganyika Lake and journeyed round its northern end, Mr. St id to have stated that. they had determined the fact that there was no effluent from the north end of the lake flowing toward the Albert or Victoria hee If so, I fear the Doctor's former idea, wi T believe he entertained, of the Tanganyika being a main feeder of the Nile, will have to be abandoned. Mr. Stanley left Livingstone at Unyan- yembe in excellent health and spirits, He was ‘waiting there for supplies and men, which he had commissioned Mr. Stanley to send nim from Zanzi- bar, and which were despatched a few days since to join him. Livingstone intends, on receipt of his supplies and men, to prosecute his researches for two years more and then return home. It is said he has addressed an official despatch to Dr. Kirk, Acting British Consul and political — here, con- taining very grave charges against the latter, prin- ctpally for alleged remisaness in failing to forward supplies and for having enjoined men (who, after long delay, conveyed some supplies to Tavingatone) not to take service under him nor to remain wit! him. He also accuses the principal native frm here of peculation and slave dealing. ‘With reference to Dr. LEME de complaint that Dr. Kirk has been remiss in forwarding him necessary supplies, there can be no doubt that it 1s too well founded. Dr. Kirk certainly obtained in Engiand and elsewhere an amount of credit for his exertions to forward supplies to Livingstone which he never merited, it being a matter of fact that his professions, as recorded in his despatches, and his acts with reference to the transmission of supplies to Livingstone were entirely contradic- tory. The mere fact that the American Consul found no difficulty whatever in getting letter: pers and supplies conveyed to Mr. Stanley at Ujiji proves that it should have been an infinitely easier task for the British political agent, who naturally pos- sessed more influence, to have sent to Livingstone the aid he was so much in need of. Statements have been made and credited that the disturbed state of the interior and the dishonesty of the natives entrusted with the conveyance of supplies pre- vented their reaching Ujiji, As, however, the same arguments would apply to the transmission of de- atches and supers to Mr. Stanley, which never- theless never failed to reach him safely, it is clear that such excuses are unworthy of notice. Per- haps the gravest charge against Dr. Kirk is that in relerence to his official report, stating that early in February last year he went from Zanzibar to Bag. amoyo (a small port on the mainland, about twenty- five miles distant) in Her Majesty’s ship Columbine, with the object of despatching a native expedition conveying Sop piles, to Livin; ne, which had been sent there by Mr. Churchill, Her Majesty’s Consul and political agent, months prev acuny: and which, subsequently to Mr. Churchill's La sacle for Eng- land, Dr. Kirk ascertained were still unaccountabl detained there,and that on reaching Bagamoyo he at once collected porters and started them off with the goods, accomp: ing them in person two days’ march into the interior. This Mr. Stanley emphat- ically denies. He affirms that, being himself at Bagamoyo preparing for his journey to Ujiji when the Columbine arrived, the porters had started with the supplies for Livingstone three days prior to the arrival of the Columbine, the local authori- ties having heard that Dr. Kirk’ was about to pay the place a visit, and consequently in a fright hur- ried the caravan off, and that Dr. Kirk neither en- feed nor despatched a single porter, nor did he ave any communication with those sent, his imag- inary march into the interior with the caravan having been in point of fact eee cursion with the commander and first lieutenant of the Columbine, accompanied by the late French Consul. Of course, by appealing to the testimony of those gentlemen, Dr. Kirk can at once prove whether he did or did not organize and accompany the caravan, as reported by him to government, in oe however, that I never heard any allu- mon to the subject by them on their return. Dr. Kirk certainly stated that he had been compelled to use his consular influence to press all the porters that could be found to proceed with Livingstone’s supplies, and that in consequence Mr. Stanley would have to wait some time till others could be found for his e: ition. Mr. Staniey sim- ly denies the truth of Dr. Kirk’s statement. Dr. k has long since given out that Livingstone had written oficially that he absolutely refused in fature to furnish any information as to his discove- ries until such time as he returned to England, and, should be die in the interim, all his papers should perish with him, ley asserts that Livingstone never ex- pressed himself to any sach effect, but that being naturally indignant at liberties naving been taken with the manuscripts unauthorized by him, and a heavy sum charged him for the construction of a fron e repudiates, he declined in future to supply rials to those who had made so unwarrantable a@use of documents previously sent, to be used to his detriment as an explorer and pher. In Livingstone’s letter Dr. Kirk, dated 7th September, 1860, he writes:—“My positions have been altered for the most idiotic reasons, at places where no one else observed or will observe in our day; and after all our care in laying down Lake N 200 miles of water are tacked on to its northwest end perched up on a height of 3,000 feet above the rest.” If any letters come for me please send them on to Ujiji till further notice. I send to ic care a letter to Lord Clarendon, one tor Miss ivingstone and one for Sir Roderick Murchison.” In the same letter he writes :—‘For Captain Fraser and our friends at Zanzibar I may say that I have found what I believe to be the sources of the Nile, between ten and twelve south, or nearly in the position assigned to them by Ptolemy.’ Do these extracts bear out the accusation that the Wayworn and solitary explorer had, in consequence of some “ae ae of his former labors having been tampered with and misrepresented, selfishly and vengefully expressed to Her Majesty's government, from whom he holds his appointment of Consul in Central Africa, his determination to supply no fuar- ther details of his proceedings or discoveries, coupled with the threat that in event of his death his papers shall perish with him ? Even supposing that in the irritability produced by pay hardships ill requited, and severe iliness with no remedies to alleviate it, and no friend nor companion to sympathize with him, Livingstone had, in the bitterness of his heart, expressed him- self in terms of impatience and even disrespect to his friends and supporters in the Foreign Office, was it becoming on the part of his “old and trusty friend and comrade, Join Kirk,’ to be so ready to publish the fact’? If the Foreign Office did receive such @ letter as Dr. Kirk states was sent by Living- stone, perhaps the former gentleman, among other much-needed explanations of his conduct, will state his particular reasons for making public facts which the Fore; Office have thought it proper to sup- ress, and also by what authority he has done so, ‘ruly may poor Livingstone exclaim, in his self-im- posed but noble exile, “Save me from my friends!” As for the gallant and successful exploit of the HERALD’s comuinissioner, it will no doubt bring to Mr. goed the due reward he so well merits. He left Zanzibar @ hale, robust man, 178 m4 weight; he returned in so poor and emaciated a condition that no one knew him, weighing 120 pounds. He left enroute for England, via Sey- chelles, @ few days since, in the steamer Africa, with the members of the Livingstone expedition, except- ing Lieutenant Dawson, who preferred to go round the Cape in an American vessel, and reach EI via New York, It is not out of place to mention here that who- ever are responsible for the organization and de- Li eng of the “Livingstone Search and Relief Expe- dition,” they desplayed an amount of ignorance and incapacity most discreditable to those concerned. The ong Sarl was despatched from England so as arrive here at the commencement of the heavy an- nual rains, when travelling is simply impracticable. It is true Mr. Stanley, after some weeks’ detention at Ugogo, managed to force way through the flooded plains to Zanzibar about a month since, but he was in light marching order, and without any heavy impediments; moreover, he was acclima- tized. (He lost his two European and one haif- caste fellow-travellers on his journey to Ujij) And had the expedition led by Mr. Dawson attempted to push into the interior before the setting in of the dry weather, few here doubt that the result would probably have been disastrous to all the European members, T note in th if the President and Vice note in the speeches ot Society In Lon- President of the Royal Geographical don much stress was laid on the assumption that on the arrival of the expedition here they would find supplies ready, porters eng: and ap armed aard at their disposal, allof which Dr. Kirk had en requested to vide. But for some reason yet to be explalt no such ments were Dr. Kirk either before or after the arrival @ shooting ex- o Yeolens ‘of the expedition at Zanzibar. In fact, Lieutenant Dawson, ir being more than a fortnight here, without receiving the slightest aid whatever from Dr, Kirk, 80 far as the objects of the expedition were concerned, had no alternative but to apply to me to help him fn obtaining the neces- sary men, required for his long jour- ney. 1’ did, but in & day or two ascertained that the head man, whom I had placed at Lieuten- Giapoent be been shipped on board ‘9 ship Columbine by Dr. Kirk as inter- oourre the way Delag b and work All the jeering and the affected scepticism of “Bohemia” about the gentineness of the New York HERALD’s expedition in quest of the great African explorer are at an end. Dr, Livingstone has himself reported, and an interesting letter to Mr. Bennett gives @ graphic account of his appointments, of his sufferings and his joy at th deliverance brought by Mr. Stanley. ; The peculiar juncture of time at which this lettery appears prevents our printing it at length—whichy it well deserves—but we are not willing to wait! another week without giving at least its substance, When the relief arrived the traveller had come to Ujiji from @ tramp of between four hundred and five hundred miles, beneath a blazing, vertl- cal sun, having been baffied, worried, det feated and forced to return, when almost. in sight of the end of the geographical of his mission, ® number of haif- m slaves sent a from Zanzibar, instead of men. ‘The sore heart, made still sorer tl woful sights I had seen of man’s inhumanity to man reached and told on the bodily frame, de- ressed it beyond measure. I thought that I was ‘ing on my feet. It is mot too much to say thas Imost every step of the weary, sultry way was im pain, and I reached Ujiji a mere ‘ruckle’ of bones.’* There he feund that goods to the value of some five hundred pounds ster! had been sold ; squandered by a drunken, caste Moslem tailor, to whom they had been unaccountably entrusted,), and who pretended to have received advices that: the Doctor was dead. So here he was in among savages, and reauced to beggary. Still was bravely trying to bear up against despair, when vague rumors of an English visitor reached him. But the rest of the story must be told in his own expressive language :— yi I thought of myself as the man who went down Jerusalem to Jericho, but neither priest, Levite, nor, Samaritan could possibly pass my way. Yet the g Samaritan was close at hand, arid one of my people Belg up a the Sop fe apeed, snide in reat gael ent, gasped out, “An man comin; see him and ‘off he ‘durted to meet hum. 1 first ever seen in these parts, a told me the nationality of the stranger. I win ay cold @ non-demonstrative as we islanders are usually repu ; but your kindness made my frame thrill, It w indeed, overwhelming; and I said in my soul, “Let th Flohest blessings descend from the Highest on you ai 01 The news that he received from Stanley, of the: success of the Atlantic cables, the election of Grant, the political changes in Europe, &c., wer “thrilling,” for he had no intelligence fron the outer world ‘for years.” Then also he learned, for the first time, that the British government hadi appropriated £1,000 to his aid, but £500 in goods had again been entrusted to slaves, and, thong already many months over time ee the way, had not arrived. Up to this time he been unsalae ried, but Sir Roderick Murchison, the President of the Geographical Society, had (half playfully) set him the task of discovering the sources of the Nile, and he had “stuck to the task with a John Bull-isiy tenacity.” The great problem of his mission—as ancient asi the days of Herodotus—seems to him now just 01 the point of being solved. He has long and pain. fully studied the great watershed of South Cen: Africa, over seven hundred miles in length, an “now,” he tells us:— I know about six hundred miles of this watershed, and unfortunately the seventh hundred is the most interest ing of the whole; for in it,if I am not mistaken, fot fountains arise from an earthen mound, and the last of the four becomes, at no great distance off, a large river. * * * * I have heard of them go often, and at great dis+ tances off, that I cannot doubt thelr existence, and, i spite of the sore longing for home that seizes ine eve Ime I think of my family, I wish to finish up by their re-! discovery. In this and some other communications to the: HERALD he gives a harro' icture of the do~ mestic slavery of Africa :—' fine count blighted with a curse from above,” and adds that if his disclosures “should lead to the suppression of the east coast slave trade” he “shall regard it. as a greater matter by far than the discovery of alk the Nile sources together. The whole story—the inal mission, the world’ suspense with regard to it, the expedition of sears and relief and its marvellous success—as it is now: opened up in all its particulars, 1s a wonderful rec~ ord of scientific devotion, human pluck and endur-' ance and generous enterprise, and bids fair nos only to be the prize romance of the nineteenth» century, but to exert a wholesome and eleva influence on the present generation and those are to come. A WESTCHESTER MYSTERY. pels Mad i A Man With a Ball In His Head Walke Into a Hoespital—A Very Impro\ablo Story—Is it an Attempt at Self-Destruc+ tion t A most mysterious case of shooting, likely to re- sultin death, came under the notice of Wardem Brown and the physicians of the Park Hospital yes- terday, and so far the most energetic endeavors of Captain Leary, the physicians and the reporters: have failed to unravel the mystery that sur- rounds it. About nine o’clock yesterday morning two mem entered the hospital and asked to be admitted. One of them, Francis Fruburg, was bleeding pro- fusely from a pistol wound in the left ear, aud the other, Charles Haas, was as- sisting him to the premises, The Warden, seeing the critical condition of Fruburg, prepared a cot for him at once, and then questioned the mem as to the manner in which the wound was inflicted. ‘The wounded man said he was on the previous day (Friday) engaged at work for the father of Oharies Haas, in Morrisiania, and, starting late in the even- ing for the city, sat down on the outskirts of Mott: Haven under @ tree. Taking out a book, he com- menced reading and fell He was awakened: by the report of a gun or tol, and inmegeey felt an intense pal patel ear. Putting his; i in in his hand up he found blood oozing from a small in the cheek. He bound his hanakere!l around his head, and set out to walk to New Yor! arriving here at an early hour. Frabw that he left Morrisania at eight o'clock, and, if this be true, his story about & book near Mott. Le ge me pe DY Freed: vg read, He gave residence as 47 Delancey stree' and his occupation a cabinet maker. Q ph ospital gave: of a cabinet maker in. a sania, for whom Fruburg worked hopin | years. He stated that at seven ‘iday evening Fruburg fell asleep under @ tree, near High Bridge, and did not awaken until: one o‘clock in the morning, when he found himse] covered with blood, and uj examination discoy~ ered that he was shot in ear. On examination Dr. Hardy founa tnat the mam had been shot through the ear. The ball entered the cavity of the earin an oblique direction, slit the lobe, and, cuging through the cheek, lodged in the jaw. Since admission to the hospital his: head has become very much swollen. The ball has’ not yet been extracted, and Dr. thinks that in the man’s present condition it would be inex- lent to for it. The wounded man is: swenty-two years of age and a oe of Germany. — says that he ia in a critical condi- ‘The story of the men did not agree in many minof details, and doubt was cast it, Werdem Brennan endeavoted to unravel mystery, ag: aid also Captain Leary, of the City Hall police, bai they were unsuccessful and ‘the The impression left was that Fra had life. This theo covery that the the pistol must have been very ‘he whem it was discharged, A reporter who visited 47 De- lancey street yesterd: afternoon found that. the wounded man has a news stand i the basement of that number, The keeper of a next door states: saloon that he has lived there but two months, and has a. good reputation for sobriety and industry. Be~ yond this he knew nothing of Fruburg’s antece- dents, Later the man’s wife was found at the hos ital, whither she had gone with her son on read-~ ing of the case in the evening papers. She le @ woman about twenty years older than her husband and professes not to be able to converse in She states that on Friday morning her hi a served his customers as usual with newspapers, and at eleven A. M. left for Morristana, remarking: that he would be home in the eve: and that she next heard of him — throw the news- papers. She scouted the idea of suicide, stated that she was tees him in Ma) beat that he has alw: been happy, sober and Thane rious, and has. never seen a pistol in his possession. Previous tov foing to Delancey street she reports that they ved in Elizabeth ‘street, near Broome, where they had a news stand, These are all the facts that could be gicaned yes-: terday, and as it now stands the case is one of sin- gular mystery, Stran; to say, after assisting his: friend to the hospital, Haas soon left, and probably nothing more will be known of the case nnless the Coroner is called in to investigate it in the event off the wound proving fatal. The “ead body of an unknown man was found im the Hariem River, near Port Morris, Westchester county, yesterday, The remains, which were cla@ in @ shirt and a pair of overhauis, had been in the water fora considerable tite, ae dee composition had rendered identification next to impossible. Coroner: Meeks held an inquest, whem @ verdict of ‘Found drowned’ was renders The cot was taken cb icing se oa