The New York Herald Newspaper, August 23, 1873, Page 5

your daughter off this time, on condition that she @oes not go again to the grotto, If I catch her there I shali be inflexible, and you know that M. le Procureur Impérial does not understand a joke. Now M. the Procureur Impérial was the most ter- ible shape that, French justice could assume in the eyes of the Pyrenees mountaineers. “tas you please, sir,” replied the frightened mil- Jer; “her mother ana J will forbid her to disobey your orders.” “A cunning little minx that,’? observed Police- Man Jacomet, nodding pleasantly to the Receiver General of Taxes, who had witnessed these pro- 8. “She is gaite sincere,” replied the Receiver General, dryly. So Policeman Jacomet pricked up Ris ears, Suppose the thing should take some un- foreseen shape, worth the noise he had stirred up about it? ‘Mercy onus! I shall get reprimanded, and perbaps lose my place.” So Policeman Jacomet was somewhat dismayed at his immediate outiook ef pay and promotion. Possibly he reasoned with bimaei!, “It wil be better to HUSH UP THIS BUSINESS, AFTER ALL.” ‘Therefore no report of Jacomet’s doings can now de found, though the archives of the Prefecture of the Hautes-Pyrénées have been ransacked over and over again to bring it to light. Neither would Monsieur le Procureur Général permit to any one a perusal and inspection of the documents trans- mitted to him on the subject. Also the Minister of Public Worship was quite rude when appeal was made tohim; and the Minister of the Interior | knitted his brow. Herein is a marvellous thing, which fully displays the might, majesty and do- minion of the French system of justice. “Pooh, pooh! ¢ Virgin Mary, indeed, paying no taxes! The Btate knows no such person.” “Pooh, pooh!” chorused Scribe and Pharisee, “We don’t know such a@ person; she is not in society.”” i F On the next day, February 22, 1858, the vast trowd which waited jor Bernadette at the grotto Yooked in vain for her appearance. Her parents bad sent her off to school before sunrise, in obedi- ence to the legal mandate. The pious sisterhood, which took charge of her, called her “a naughty girl’ and scolded her. Thev did not want to have B dispute with Policeman Jacomet; and when they bent Bernadette home to dinner at noon they relig- ously believed that they had taken the nonsense Ant of her. BERNADETTE AT THE GROTTO, The church bells sounded the “Angelus,” as the Uttle seer went with drooping head and sorrowful heart upon her way. But all at once she was seized with a mysterious impulse which neither policeman nor sisterhood could control, and she Set off running as fast as her little legs could tarry her tothe grotto. She appearea to herself 4 be gently borne along by an irresistible power, and she felt an extreme sense of peace and happiness. Did not something of this sort happen to Elijah, and to St, Philip, to Bt. Ida of Louvain, and to St, Joseph of Coper- tino, and to St. Rose of Lima? And how can any person who believes or pretends to believe in the Old or the New Testament assert that 1t'is im- possible? The crowd which lingered still around the grotto saw her come; but this time there was no divine radiance upbn her face. She prayed as usual upon her bended knees, she prayed with sears and sighs, but the celestial vision did not ‘Sppear that day to her longing eyes, “Why have you abandoned me?’ cried tne child, weeping; .and when the crowd interrogated her she answered, sobbing, that she had seen nothing, and that “the lady” was not there. Then the trowd laughed at her, and this, she said after- wards, was the hardest trial of all. Poor little shing, “the lady” had not promised to make her happy in this world, and sue was now standing amid the dust of her hopes. That dust we all have trodden. Policeman Jacomet, finding that nis orders had deen infringed, threatened to send the whole Sou- irons family to jail, but on consulting the Pro- eureur Impérial that functionary did not see how she thing could be done decently. In the first lace they were for filing @ criminal information against her for spreading false news, in order to get her within the penal code; but it had been proved to demonstration that she had never once sontradicted herself, and no one else could say whether her news was false or true. Besides, a troublesome opinion was gaining ground that M. Jecomet was one of those persons sometimes em- ployed by the French officials to stir up public trouble in disaffected districts for political pur- poses; and it was known that the government had good reason to believe that the opinions of the Lourdes people inclined ‘oward legitimacy and the Bourbons. On the 23d of February, 1268, therefore, Berna- flette was suffered to go to the grotto at dawn, un- molested, and she saw the Virgin. BERNADETTH’S CONVERSATION WITH THE VIRGIN. “Bernadette,” said the Divine Mother; and what gaid the voice which aforetime called to the child Samuel? “Here am I,’ replied Bernadette; and that easwer has beerf also heard by the listening ages. “1 have a secret to teil you for yoursel! alone,” said the Virgin. ‘Will you promise me never to repeat it to any one in this world?” “{ promise you,’ answered Bernadette; and what the Virgin next said has never been told by Bernadette to mortal cars. There are things, says one of the apostles, who also saw a vision, whether in the body or out of the body he could Mot teli—“‘there are things not lawful to be at- tered.” “and now, my daughter,” said the Virgin, when she had delivered her divine message to the little shepherdess, ‘go and teil the priests that I desire a chapel shail be erected in this place, and dedicated to me.’ And having thus spoken she gradually vanished out of the light which sur- rounded her, and the light followed aiter her, THE DOUBTING CURE. Bernadette bore the Virgin’s second message to the Curé¢ of Lourdes, a somewhat rude and impa- tient elderly gentleman, though of approved faith. M. le Curé snubbed her at first, and then he looked at her. The man’s large head was constantiy try- ing to prevent his large heart getting the better of it. He saw before him a littie child, who intimated to him in a clear and direct manner a formal com- mand from on bigh, and he remembered who had said, ‘Suffer littie children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven;" “And whoever shall offend one of these littic ones that believe in Me, it ts better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and ne were cast into the yea.” M. le Curé looked out of an open window into his garden, and he pondered. It was Winter time, and all the plants and fowers scemed to lic hushed in sleep there. “The apparition," said he, “had beneath her feet | & wild rose tree, Go and tell her (rem me that if she wishes for the chapel I ask her to let that wild rose tree bring forth flowers.” He was thinking of tho rod of Aaron, which budded as a token and a sign. “Well,” said the Curé to Bernadette on the following day, “you have seen the apparition again, and the wild rose tree has brought forth no flowers.” : “{ have seen the vision,’’ Tewlied Bernadette, “ghd I toid her,, ‘M,le Curé asks you for proofs of your presence here; for examplo, that you shall make tho rose tree bloom beneath your feet. My words are not enough for him, and he will uot believe me.’ Then the vision smiled without speaking; but aiter a little ahe told me to pray for sinners, and to go up to the farthest end of the grotto, and she cried out three times the word, ‘Penitence! penitence! penitence |’ which 1 repeated, dragging myself pon my hands and knees to the end of the grotto, ‘where sho revealed to me gnother secret, which concerns mysolfonly, and which I may not divulge, After this she vanished."’ NEW YORK HERALD, SATURDAY, AUGUST 23, 1873, “and what did you find at the end of tne grottor” asked M. le Curé, . “1 saw nothing but the rock and a few biades of grass which grew amidst the dust onit.” The Curé meditated. ‘Let us wait,” said he, recollecting that an evil and adulterous generation had once before sought for a sign from heaven and that no sign haa been given to it. AN OFFERED BRIBE, Among the strangers who now came to the Wretched home of the miller {rom far and wide, at- tracted by the rumor of what was doing at Lourdes, was ® wealthy man, who offered Bernadette a purse ofgold. “I am rich,” said he; ‘let me help you; buy up the miracle, in short, and have done with it.” “Take up your money,” said Bernadette, ‘I Will have none of it.” It was nearly the answer Made tw that Simon who wished to purchase the souls of apostles. Then the rich man tried the poor miller and his wife and strove to torce his money upon them; but they Would not so much as leok at it, This rich man subsequently turned out to be one of the spies, or secret reporters, Of the French imperial govern- ment. When next Bernadette saw the vision the Virgin told her a third secret, for herself alone. “And now,” added the divine visitor, “go drink and wash at the fountain which springs near this grotto, and eat of the herbs which grow there.” Bernadette knew of né fountain, but the Virgin pointed with her Onger to a spot which had been bare and dry before—the very place upon which she had crawied upon her hands and knees before, crying “Penitence! penitence! penitence!’ Thence now flowed a pienteous stream of water, and here and there upon the rock there grew an herb of tne genus saxifrage, which is called dorine, LITERARY CHIT-CHAT. Mg, JAMES P. HARRISON, of Atlanta, will issue soon “The Georgia Gazetteer, or Encyclopedia and Merchants and Farmers’ Directory for the State of Georgia.” A New Hrsrory or Jamaica has been written by W. J. Gardner and printed in London, It tells the story of slavery and emancipation, and brings down the history of this British possession fiity years later than any preceding work. THE Toledo Bladg having advertised a choice of book premiums to those who would sendin sub- scriptions, 700 readers chose the works of Flavius Josephus, the learned Jewish historian, “Mine Gott, vat a beepies |”? GOVERNOR WILLAM GILPIN’s book on “The Mis- sion efthe North American People, Geographical, Social and Political,” will be brought out by the Messrs. Lippincott. BoyYDELL’s well known illustrations of Shaks- peare are to be reproduced for the million by the new heliotype process, in 100 plates. Gebbie & Barrie, of Philadelphia, are the publishers, “THE ATLANTIC TO THE Pactric: What to See and How to See It,” by John Erastus Lester, author of “The Yosemite: Its History, Scenery and De- velopment,” will soon be published in London. ARCHDEACON FREEMAN is engaged upon an archi- tectural history of Exeter Cathedral. MR, BAYLE BERNARD, a special student of Irish poets and poetry, has just completed the ‘Life of Samuel Lover.” . THE FoLLowINa ts the list of literary pensions granted during the year ended the 20th of June, 1873, and charged upon the British Civil List:—Miss Eliza Keightley, in consideration of the valuaple as- sistance which she rendered to her brother, Thomas Keightley, in the course of his historical studies, £50; Miss Martha Charters Somerville, in consid- eration of the emtnent services rendered to the natural sciences by ber late mother, Mrs. Somer- ville, £50; Mr. Edward Masson, in consideration of his services to classical literature, £100; Mrs. Elizabeth Williams, widow of the Rev. J. Williams, formerly rector of Llanyiuowddevy, in considera- tion of the value of her husband’s Celtic and archx:- ological researches, £50; Dr. David Livingstone, Consul ifthe interior of Africa, &., in considera- tion of the value of his discoveries in Central Africa, £300. : THs Frrst SHEETS of the Marquis of Lothian’s ‘unique collection of Anglo-Saxon homilies of the tenth century, with a transiation by Rev. Richard Morris, are in the press for the Early English Text Society. MB. HERBERT SPENCER'S “Study of Sociology” will be completed in the October number of the Contemporayy Review, and published as an entire work in November. ‘Mr. JoHN MaxwELL, the proprietor of Belgravia, and husband of Miss Braaden, has lately commenced actions against several proprietors of cheap news- papers ior reprinting tales from his magazine. THE ACADEMY OF INSCRIPTIONS AND BELLES LErrres has awarded its ordinary prize to M. Abel Bergaigne, teacher at the Ecole Pratique des Hautes Etudes, for his works on the construction of the Aryan language. THe Atheneum grows pathetic over the nightly wrongs of students and invalids in London from the keeping of all kinds of noisy animal nuisances. Here ts a passage that should delight Mr. Caleb Cushing :— Poor John Leech wag killed by organ grinders. It is part of our police policy to let men tike Bab- bage combat German bands in London. Any one may keep halfa dozen peacocks under his neigh- bor’s bedroom windows, and why should not a man’s dog how! all night’ As to poultry, why” should nota man keep as many crowing cocks as he pleases?’ What is the vaive of the health, nay, the lives, of your neighbors compared with that of the new-iaid eggs Which attend the hooting of the Cochin-Chinese, the yells of the dunghili, the frantic shrieks of the “game” bird or the crowing of the Dorking fowl? A Londoner has no right torest if he cannot sleep when surrounded by barking, shrieking, howling and crowing brutes, SEVENTY-THREE PER CENT of the readers in the Cinctnnati Public Library choose works of fiction. Mr. J. HAMMOND TRUMBULL, the Indian philolo- gist, finds that “caucus” is not an English word at ail, but derived from the aboriginal “caw-caw- was-so,” meaning one who advises, a promoter, @ caucuser. Tue LonDon Publishers’ Circular says: There ia another way of working literary capital, which is coming into vogue, which may possibly open up @ golden future to novelists. A popular novelist is, we hear, writing a novel which will eppearssimultaneously in eight different papers, published in eight separate and various divisions of these islands, The John o' Groat's Journal, for instance, at the extreme north, may be supposed to have a periectly distinct circle of readers and admirers to tlie Land’s End Ledger, in the extreme southwest, and the Brighton Banner cannot interfere with the readers o1 the Perthshire Patriot. Hence it is evident that such papers can combine and purchase a feuileton and pay a large price to the author, such price, divided into eight or ten shares, being but smali to them, It is an- other form of co-operation. Whether the presence of fiction in newspapers generally devoted to po- litical and socta! topics is not a sign of weakness in the press we decline to debate. MATT MORGAN AND THE “BLACK oR0OK.” What Is indecency and Who Are In- decent t New Yorg, August 21, 1873, To THE EDITOR OF THE HERALD:— I am exceedingly loath to take up your time or encroach upon your valuable space, but the prominence you have given to “a young lady’s opinions® on my pictures in the “Biack Crook" compels me to say a few words in self-defence, May I ask the young lady tn question, or any other lady, young or old, if she has ever seen the ilius- trious American sculptor, Hiram Powers’ statué of the “Greek Slave /’ Has she ever seen Titian’s “Venus 7 Has she ever been into any great col- “lection of paintings and whether she nas come to the conclusion that such exhibitions are -out- rageously lewd?” If she has come to sucn con- clusion I have nothing more to say; but while thousands of pure-minded American ladies can contemplate the works Of our great sculptors and painters, both here and abroad, without a biush, I haye yet to learn that the mere fact ofe| sfich works being exhibited in the “Black Crook’ ‘would render them “outrageously lewd.” “To the pure all things are pure.” Away witn such criti- cism! It is of the kind which would cover the “Venus de Medicis” with @ ganze petticoat and nt trowsers on the legs Of pianofortes. I remain Pours, obediently, MATT. MORGAN, TANNERIES CLOSED IN MAINE. MATTAWAMERAG, August 20, 1873, Many of the tanneries along the iine of the E. and N, A, Railroad have been compelled to sus- ms for the nt owing toa Praere it presumed that the eu: lon i jue but a caused by over juction ad will cont short time, Lhe SPAIN. | THE REVOLUTION IN VALENCIA. A Silent City Awaiting the Attack of the Government Forces. TWO VIEWS OF A SUBJECT. ee A Herald Correspondent in Search of Actual Fighting. pe . CAN THE CITY BE TAKEN? FonDA DE Panis, } VALENCIA DEL Crp, July 30, 1578. It lacks but little of four years since I was in this Same hotel in this city on the same errand that finds me here now, The city of Valencia, in September, 1869, rose in revolt against the attempts of the monarchist chiefs—Prim, Serrano and Topete—to bring in @ monarch, After nine days’ stubborn fighting in the streets the revolutiontsts surrendered to Alamnios and Primo de Rivera, with a loss of over five hundred killed and about fifteen hundred wounded, while the soldiers lost as many more. At the end of July, 1873, I find rbyself again in Valencia—the brave. and beautiful city, which boasts of the finest womdh, the finest fruit, the finest soil and the bravest men in Spain—to report once more on the violent scenes which we expect will come in a few hours in the wake of the revo- lution which broke out last Saturday, the 26th of the month, I waited at Madrid just one day after the news of the riving at Cadiz ana Seville, expecting that Valencia would pronounce in favor of Cartagena and the independence of the cantons. I did ne heed the revolt of ihe city of Malaga nor pay much attention to the fact of the harbor of Cartagena being blockaded by the Prussian frigates, because 1 remembered the stubborness of the Vatencianos in 1869, but - when the telegram arrived at Madrid stating that Valencia had yisen in arms against the govern- Ment I said to myself:—“Ah, here is a chance ror earnest battle; the Valencianos are brave; Cadiz, Seville and Malaga hold out but a few days, Val- encia holds out for weeks; Madrid is cruel in re- volt, Barcelona is faint hearted, but Valencia is a city of warriors, Igo to Valencia.” Itook a ticket for Valencia the evening of the day the news was delivered at Madrid, but the in- surrectionists had already forestailed us and de- | stroyed tM railroad and telegraph, so that at Encina, the junction, I found I had to go to Alicante, and then, by sea, as Op- portunity offered, to Valencia, “Fortune favors not only the brave but those who seek her favors, and the opportunity I sought was offered the day after arrival. The steamer Guadiana was bound trom Seville and Cartugena for Valencia, Tarragona, Barcelona and Marseilles; and, though deeply laden with Ireight and fugitives from the disturbed cities of Souttern Spain, there was room for one or two republicans more, and I was one of those who obtained passage in her. As we were about start- ing from Alicante in the evening news came that the Valencianos had surrendered. to the govern- ment troops under Martinez, Campos and Velarde, and that the rebel chiefs Nad ali escaped, but my knowledge of the valor of the people of Valencia led me to doubt the veracity of the report, and I held on my way. At sunrise we sighted the port “El Grao,” as it is called, and a near approach to the long lines of hew jetties and piers bein constructed dissipated the last doubt that may have remained in my mind of the courage of the rebels of Valencia, The works now in process of construction weré all empty and desolate, while the wharves of El Grao were full of people, all enjoying « holiday or flying from danger. There was no need to ask any ques- tions of those pallid-laced people, of those fear- stricken women ‘and girls, of those white-taced fugitives, laden uown with beds and pillows, or of the dense crowds o/ well-dressed men who endeavored to appear calm by’ a faint attempt at nonchalance. Correspondents | who have seen wars and sieges, battles and revolu- tions, recognize the: signs of disquiet and fear in- | stinctively, so that a glance of the eyes and the exercise of experienced judgment satisfied me how-| affairs stood at the capital, whose numerous | church towers were seen above the long avenues | of poplar and plane and above the vegetation | which gives the gardens of Valencia such a luxun- ant and Eden-like appearance. TERROR IN THE CITY. | Isaw my friend Pascual, the tartana driver, who | speaks English (he always likes to be known by | this qualification), and, inviting him to acai to | | wonder to the Northern stranger? Where have partake of a bottle of beer,- 1 asked him the news. | “Bad, very bad, Sefior mio," said he.” The re- | publicans have command of the town and there | are not troops enough in Spain to take the city. They have twenty cannon {rem the Artillery Park; | all the soldiers in the town, the cavalry, artillery, marines are with us, and it 1s said that as soon | as the troops ure ordered to the attack the soldiers wili revolt and join the republicans. Generais Martinez, Campos and Velarde are now at Silla and | Catarroga waiting for siege trains, so they cannot begin the attack for about two days yet. Valencia | isdeserted. It is like a big city left to the dogs— | it is quite empty,” | Thanking my friend Pascual I at once engaged | him to convey me to the gates, which was as far | as he would venture to go, a distance | of about two -miles and a half from the grao, or port. All the tartanas of | the city seemed to be out on that white road, | which led up to the city, half shaded by four rows | of plane trees, and they were laden with people wearing very anxious faces. It was like unto a | general exodus from a plague or a general emigra- tion of the people to seek their fortunes, except that the oldand the young, the ugly and the fair looked too mucb alarmed for people voluntarily quitting thelr homes for better’ lands, it | was very sad to see the smal! children | with their little bare and brown feet half hidden in the burning white dust, carrying portions of the family treasure in the rear of their heavily laden { mMammas; as sad as it was to see others who, with their great beautiful eyes half veiled by sorrow- weighted eyelids, wistfully looking forward and be- — hind, as if they knew not where to go, having aban- | doned their all. | A SPOILED BULL FIGHT. On approaching the spacious alameda of the city, which, to a stranger, 1s always a feature, {rom the unrivalled wealth of leafage which hangs from the great trees, we saw an immense frame building, newly put- up, and gay with streamers and fags. A question as to ita purpose brought Pascual out with some more news, Said he, ‘‘Did you not know that there was going to be agreat fair. We were going to have two bull fights in the Plaza de Toros, but when the troops came to the suburbs the volunteers occu- pied the building, and they took to kiliing men in- stead of bulls, Four carbineers were shot dead close to the bull ring, I saw them myself, You see the booths that have begh erected; the river has been dammed, too, and boats brought from the | grao for the people to row about. Ah, we should have had agay time had there been no fighting. Music and dancing from morn till eve; cake, wince, and fruit and kisses from the c@antry girls,”” AN UNDEPENDED APPROACH. By this time we were at the Puente del Mar, and Pascual respectfully told myselt and companion he could take us no further. The blank walle of the Citadel stared at us as We descended. Not a gun was mounted on the strong walis; not a sentry stood above to watch, but where the gates of the Gity had formerly stood three slouchy volunteers ‘were on guard. ° “what! sald I, to myself, “is this the city in revolt with nigh twenty thousand onder arms, with 1,000 troops under Velardo and Martinez | had an encounter, TRIPLE SHEET. Campos awaiting orders to attack. Where are the barricades and embankments, the frm intent and resolve to repel the enemy.” Full upon me came the recollection of the boastful confidence, and the fearful lack of energy which I bad seen in the North in the battles between the Carlists and republicans, and the appreciation of the knowledge I had alreaay gained of the vast distance between the advanced Powers of Europe and Spain, Nothing put utter ignorance of the art of war could have caused any resolute peopie to leave one of the most important approaches to Valencta so scantily defended, and nothing but scanty resources have prevented the government from availing itself! of this open road’ to the heart of the city in rebellion. Three steamers would carry troops enough from Alicante to the Grao in one day, which would enable commanders to march them at night straight by the citadel into the city without opposition, Of even she ordinary rules of war, or the rudimental duty of an armed force about to inaugurate hostilities, these purblind volunteers have no conception, Passengers go to and tro between the port and the city without opposition, or at least any very Great opposition, while the personal eafety and lberty of the rebels might be endangered by the lack of ordinary sagacity and prudence. We were permitted to pass unquestioned on our way; the driver and his tartana were left behind. Coming by the tobacco factory, we saw a few more ofthe rebels; they crowded its doorway, or lay in rows on the sidewalk under the shade, or sat in groups discussing—I have no doubt the what-may- happen to-morrow or the next day. I dia not hear as in 1869 the screaming of shot and shell, or the singiny of musket bullets, nor did I see the groups of ofticcrs and the lines of eager marksmen peering from behind embrasures and stone grifins; for having once passed the tobacco factory we seemed to be alone in the great city. Each street was empty, the houses were jealously closed, the shutters excluded the light of day, and the always sombre looking stone houses. appeared more sombre than cver, Tall church towers rose on every side, and their immense altitade of stone, brick and tapia, with their windowless walls and deep cavernous doors but heightened the solem- nity and reality of emptiness.+ Whoever has visited Valencia will remember it for crowded streets and its merry-making, gayety-° loving appearance; tor the voice of busy com- merce and the iaughter of mirth-loving sons and daughters, ior the voices of her market women and’ the cries of the jim-crack hawker; for the life and stir, the commotion and signs Of a populous city, which so’absorb the new- comers eyes, ears and senses that he has no time to raise the eye to observe the quaint architecture of Goth and Moor, or the traces of the rich past. A SILENT, VACANT CITY, Where are the girls, the belles of gay Valencia, with their easy grace of movement and matchiess beauty of face? | eyes were unequalled for their lustre, and whose | quick, lively sparkles were always a source oi | the joyous cavaicades and prancing horses gone with all their handsome, black-eyed riders, that so used to win our admiration for their equestrian grace and the rich caparison of their Moorish barbs? Where are the gaily dressed peasants, with their tassels and tags, their dancing feet and restlessness of limbs, that ever moved to the sound of cymbal and guitar’ Emp- | tiness, hollowness and vacancy have succeeded to all | the mirth and revelling, joy and spirit of Valencian | lite, The empty houses echo our footsteps, and | there is no human voice to attract the ears which | have involuntarily lent themselves to listen to the | echoes which one house reverberates to the other, | We reach the Fonda de Paris, and while we break | our fast with the viands which this capital hotel always /urnishes, the gray-headed waiter, wRo was here in 1869 and remembers me, begins to tell the | news of the day. “There are 23,000 volunteers in the city (the sum | grows), and no number of troops can take the city A SON SLAYER, Terrible Tenement Tragedy in Carmine Street, A Drunken Father Murders One of His Sons and Attempts the Life of Another. DREADFUL DETAILS OF THE AWFUL DEED. The Madness of Debauchery the Cause of the Crime. Statements of the Murderer and the Members of the Family. Scenes in the Tenement House—The Father's Anguish in the Tombs. " Afather murdered one son Mm Carmine street yesterday and attempted to murder another. Abont many of the murders which occur in this tinge of romance which serves, if not to pailiate the crimes, at all events to excite the sympathics ofan easly impressed public. This last murder ‘was merely brutal, and was accomplished in the most common place manner, The Broderick family lived on the'fourth floor of the five story tenement house 81 Carmine street. There was Michael C. Broderick, the father; Join, James and Thomas, the sons, Clara; Kate and Margaret, the daughters; Mra. Delia Broderick, the mother, and @ Mrs. Waldron, the mother of Mra. Broderick, about whom the row, which ended in murder, appears to have first begun. The father and James were in the carting business, and Jono was employed in a distillery, John returned home early and took their mother at Funk’s Union Park. turned home and found them all gone from the immediately entered into a dispute. The mother- Where are the iair beings whose | in-law, as it 18 aileged, finally by her abuse drove him from the house, and he went on what 1s vul- , garly known asa “drunk,” He visited ail the saloons in the vicinity, and succeeded so well that by the time he got home he was ina thorvugily ‘intoxicated condition. He immediately went to bed and did not wake until about one o'clock, when the return of him in his slumber. He appears then, in A HALF IDIOTIC SORT OF CONDITION, to have abused everybody generalfy for having le!t "him alone, and particularly his wife, who, he said, should have remained at home to have protected him from bis mother-in-law. Words passed among the several members of the family, and, from all accounts, it would not appear that the two sons, particularly the ekler, were quite sober either. When the wife was about going to bed the husbana, Michael, refused to let her, and she was obliged to .go into a room with her daughters, All was then quiet in the house until abeut six o’clock yesterday morning. This was the hour when the family usue ally began to stir, The mother got up, and was pre- paring breakfast in the back room used as a kitchen, when Michael followed her and asked if they hold out. Seventy-five soldiers of the column of Velarde came in this morning, and they say that the soldiers of Velarde will come in and | join ustoa man. We have nearly thirty cannons | ‘posted at the barricades, the Plaza de Toros is tull | his pants. Not being able to find them he went to | of men, every government house has got itsde- | his daughter’s room, and, knocking at the door, | fenders and they all swear to fight to the death.” | After breakfast I accompanied my fellow traveller, who is an Englishman, to the house of the British Vice Consul, who said:— “There are about eight thousand volunteers in the city, who have about twenty cannon alto- gether, while the government troops number about seven thousand men and have tweive siege guns. | where his pants were. She said she did not know. Michael, who: was still in a stupid sort of condition, muttered something and went about the house looking for demanded his garment, The two daugiters, | Clara and Margaret, arose together, and, aiter | quickly dressing, handed the father his pants. He | looked over them carefully and found that. | A BUTTON WAS WANTED. | His daughter said she had forgotten this, and | added that she had mended'them in every other way. Michael Broderick began to storm, great city there is at least some palliation—some {| On Thursday night it appears that James and | and sisters to the picnic of the Stanley Association, | Shortly after the father re- | house, except his mother-in-law, with whom he | the ptenickers disturbed | how- | without touching it, The wounded man was re moved to Bellevue Hospital as soon as possible. When Coroner Young arrived at the house he found the body of James in the front and covered with a sheet. “permitted its immediately piaced upon ice. He also pare order for the commitment of Michael Broderick w the Tombs, IN TRE TOMBS. © ir saw him immedi the He ts “9 samen, abous of age. & heavy and some- what brutish countenance, but rather Kindly in its expression, and weara @ heavy sandy mustache oun goatee. His clothes were poor and long worr. A check Jacket over a brown shirt and a muck used pair of dark corduroys formed his habiliments, He was evidently greatly affected and, eae still under the influence of liquor, had a consciousness of his crime. Breve few momenta he burst into a flood of tears an mixed up in ms account of the Still nis story was a plain, unvarnistied he did pot apparen seek to palliate faults. In answer to @ question by the reporter ag | to what could possibly drive him to the sion of such a deed, he said :— HIS STORY. “Well, I did not get on very well at home, My mother-in-law was always against me and seemed to want to bother me in every way she possibly could, Ske tried to pat my own children see me. I gave my pants to my daughter Clara to ix up for me the day before, and when I woke up tne morning I asked her for them. I found she not put on one of the buttons of the pants talked to her about it, when my mother-in-law iD terfered, and | had some words with her. Then Jobn came in and said, ‘Why don’t you put the som of ab—h out?’ and he then caught hold of the slat of the bed and came for me to strike me. endeavored to prevent him hitting, th gave me one or two vlows with it, when my younger son, James, came in and joined John. | After that I don’t remember ani re REPORTER—Don’t you remember using your knife on your sons? THE DEED DONE IN FRENZY. BRopERick (crying)—No; I don’t remember anys | thing about that; | had been drinking, and | don’t know what I was doing. drunk some lager beer tne night beiore, and i don’t seem to have been quite conscious. However, I remember very well about the pants. The button that was mise jug Was a suspender button, and I couldn’t put the pants on without it, That is why I was so mad ; About tt; bus God knows I wouldn’t have killed my own san i! 1 had known it, Even after the scuffle took place, and both the boys were out of | the room, I went on putting on my clothes, not | knowing that any one was badly hurt, 1 can’t de- | scribe my feelings at all at that time. All! know | 18, that after going down stairs to go to work | USAW JAMES LYING DEAD | and then I went back again into the room and kept quiet until the officer came to. arrest me. . REPORTER—Had you any trouble with any of your | family? | _ BRoperice—Wel, I didn’t agree at all times with | My mother-in-law, She’s an old woman about | seventy-six, and petulant in her disposition, She | wanted always to have her own way, Then I was | put out about their coming home so late from the | pienic the night before, 1 had been taking care of the little girl Maggie all alone while they were en- | joying theinseives, and thought’ my wifa | onght to have been home earlier instead of leaving me all alone. When she came home | John was with them, John was a bad boy and had threatened to kill me before. He didn’t live in the house, but in some street uptown witn a hard | Woman, and 1 had oiten said 1 would sooner ha shouldn't come to the house. When he came 11 | that night I sald he must leave the house and ne ai so after saying he’d get square with me. Then didn’t see him tll the ERAT 4 when he came in again and | ordered him out. It was then he came for me inaking it an excuse that I was abusing tne family.” | A BAD SON, REPORTER—You «didn’t like him then ? BRODERICK—NO; he was#s bad son and I received @ great deal of trouble fromhim. But I tried not to see him at all. James was a good,boy usually though | when he drank he was sometimes hard in bis con- duct. Still I loved James, Here the murderer of his son began again to weep bitterly, and rocked himsel/ to and fio as he spoke :— | Ont I never tuought this terrible disgrace would come upon us. We had agood home—no worse than other people, and agreat deal better than most. It would have been all right if John hadn't | come in the house, and nobody would bave been | burt. I never dreamt of commiting murder on any one, and much less on my own flesh and blood. I have been as peaceful as most people, and I bever struck a blow to one of the women in the house. But sometimes you feel bad and you want to Gnd fauit with somebody, and | ALL ABOUT A BUTTON, you see, murder has been done. 0 my God, my God, have mercy on me!”? And here the uniortunate being fell on the floor o! the cell upon his knees, and moaned as if his | heart would break. ‘The reporter thefi left, and as | he was going out of the gate the gooa Father ' Duranquet, accompaniéd by Dr. McGlynn, of St. Stephen’s, passed in. Both clergymen had a pro- tracted conversation with him, Dr. McGlynn remain- | ing sometime after Father Duranquet had lef, | AT THE HOUSE the scene was one of great desolation. It was diffls cult to make one’s way up stairs, the jam was so reat. Women stood on nearly every step wait ing and looking Irightened. As the reporter passed up they all looked at him and whispered con- fusedly amongst themselves. About twenty families | live in the butlding, but everything is quite clean. | Tae passage to tue rooms where the murder took place was circuitous and hard to find, as so many | Seeined to branch off in every dtrection. After a | Weary tramp up the rooms were reached. In the | largest room—the one where the horrible deed | took place—tnere were a number of women assem- bled around an ice-cofn in the middie of the I went over to the camp of the General yesterday | ever, and swore he was neglected and tngt no one | apartment, where lay the remains of the murdered evening, and he says that he 1s about to issue a procidmation, and twenty-tour hours afterwards, if bis terms are not complied with, he says HE WILL SURELY BOMBARD THE CIty, | He demands that the troops be permitted ‘o enter | the city; that the Junta of Public Safety shall be | dissolved, and that the government authorities | article and threw it at his mother-in-law, without | shall be recognized. As 1 came back to the city 1 | inflicting any injury, however, This inflamed his , noticed the outskirts were alive with reconnoitring parties, and I assure you that if they had gone much further they would have. captured the Gen- era’, BY George! I never saw such fellows. How eager they were! With hands on their triggers they stepped out in all directions. I think they | will fight, you know, and they are good marksmen. ‘rhe people of Valencia are famous for their aim. I shall not leave Valencia until the last moment; but when the bombardment begins I don’t stop, and I wouldn't advise you to stop, either. Shelis are no Tespecters Of persons or things.” In answer to some other questions he said:—“I know the Juota do not agree among themselves as to what course to take. Some are for recognizing .| the government; others, the reds, are tor never | surrendering. The President of the Junta, whois a gentieman, is for giving in his adhesion to the gov- ernment; be would much rather the whole thing was over. It has been told me—I don’t know how | true it i8—that several battalions have agreed to hang out the white flag as soon as the troops have | entered, I know the Captain of the company which | guards the bank—it is right opposite to your | | hotel—has told me he will do it, and I really think that if the troops only boidly entered here there | would hardly be a shot fired.’’ Ihave givep you two sides of the story. Pascual, my driver, and the waiter of the hotel for one, and the British Vice Consul for the other side. I am too newly arrived to he able to form any definite jadgment apon what may happen. I hear, a8 I close my letter, distant shots in the | direction of the bull-ring, Iam told that an hour ago a battalion of volunteers sallied out of the city, bearing @ biack flag, with the cross-bones on it. This party of extreme irreconcilables may have T shall go and see, RAILROAD ACOIDENTS ON LONG ISLAND. A Conductor Killed Maimed. Yesterday afternoon a train of empty flat cars, while backing down to Hunter’s Point on theFresh Pond branch of the South Side Ratiroad, ran into a drove of pigs that were feeding on the track at Bussvilic, throwing eff three of the cars, John Magee, the conductor, and a brakeman named James Kern, were thrown underneath the cars, Magee veinz killed almost Erte hs Kern had his legs broken and received internal injuries, which it | is feared Wil! prove fatal. | The two o'clock afternoon train on the Long | Island Railroad from Hunter’s Point ran over two , horses, killing them instantly, yesterday afternoon, at the Williamsburg road, Jamaica, The horses were owned by Mr. William Dougherty, and were | valued at $400, Sn an \ ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF AN EX.CON- | FEDERATE GENERAL. Sr. Louis, Mo., August 22, 1873. On Wednesday evening last an attempt was made to avsassinate Generai Joe Shelby, a some, what celebrated rebel general daring the war and @ cousin of General Frank P. Blair. Tue General, with bis two little boys, was driving from his | residence fe Aalimilie, when some,anknown party | carriage from the bushes, woandin| him in the hip, ” 7 NEW COTTON FROM MISSISSIPPI. MEMPuIs, August 22, 1873, The first bale of cotton of the new crop, re- ceived from Canton, Miss., was sold at auction to-day. It weighed 380 poun i 1d middlin; and brought forty-one cents per bousae " « Brakeman | | | @n the fluor of the landing—dead, | repeated from mouth to mouth. | ing of | caused a scene { cared whether he was alive or dead, and accused | boy. his daughters with being in league with their grandmother—his mother-in-law—to turn him out of the house, At this the grandmother, Mrs. Waldran joined in and began abusing and vilify- ing Michael, when he seized a boot or some such own wife, who remonstrated with him rather for- eibly while the husband, who was almost beside | himself with rage, seemed to be trying to curb him- self, spite of the half intoxicating condition in | which he was. Attracted by the noise of the row which was going on, the son John entered the room and said to his mother:— | oath) out.’ Upon hearing this the father turned upon bis | son, and seizing a bed slat which stood up right against the wall and quite handy, rushed upon, him. At this moment James appeared within the door. All the women cried out to him to separate father and son, as James was THE FATHER’S FAVORITE, | and it was thought he would have most influence with him. James therefore rushed in and endeav- ored: to separate tie two who were wrestling. The father, Michael, was evidently of opinion that he had only come tn to aid the others agaist him, and in a second turned {rom his son, John, with whom he was fighting over the bed slat, and taking trom his pocket a pocket knife, and, opening the large biade, in much jess time than it takes to teil it rushed upon James, and, raising his right arm, brought it down twice in quick succession, cach time plunging tne blade deep into his son’s breast. ‘The son gave a stified cry, “T AM MURDERED!” and staggered towards tue door, At the same mo- ment te father, apparently in a fit of insane rage, turned upon his son John, and, again raisin pocket knife, stabbed him in the left breast. staggered alter his brother, who, lifeblood ebb, endeavored to make his way down _ stairs, evidently under the fdea that his father would. follow hiin to again | stab him. In this manner he made his way down | two flights of stairs, while John feli exhausted on | the upper landing. Clara, the daughter, followed: | foun feeling | James down stairs, and joined him just at the | moment when, exhausted by the loss of blood, he fell back into her arms, and, opening his eyes in | one supreme effort, murmured in a weak voice, | “Dear sister, goodby,” and rolled out of her arms In the meantime the uproar in the house had become tremendous. The grandmother and the mother of the murdered boy ran out on the landing | and shouted, “MURDER! MURDER!|’? and inamoment the tenement nouse, like a bee- hive, became alive and excited. All the people | ing the others what the matter was. Palor was on every face, horror in everyeye. The terrific cry had beeu heard through the house, and waa There was the sudden rush of feet upon the stairs, and then the terrible sight of the double murder, tor at first it Was supposed that both the sons were dead. exclamations of the lookers-on, the women, the rush to and fro, of the direst and most appalting confusion, Some rushed out into the street and gave abroad the terrible tidings. A police oMficer*belonging to the Greenwich street, police station ran into the house and, in a moment taking in the gituation, rushed up stairs to where tne murder had taken place. His first care was hot for the murdered, but for the murderer. Going through the rooms where the Broderick family lived he finally found the father—the murderer— crouched up in @ sitting posture in the back room of ali, and evidently a prey to the most frightfai emotion. The blood seemed to have leit his cheeks and the power of speech even had deserted him. The knife with which he stabbed his sons jay on the floor beside tim. His hands wére covered with HIS OWN CHILDREN’S BLOOD, When questioned he couid no’ answer, and shortiy after, being able to obtain no succinct account or indeed any relation of the affair from him, the bean took him to the police station in Greenwich Shortly after this had occurred a doctor called at the house, who substantiated the death of the son James and pronounced the ingasiee of John to be pa ay but not mortal, The knife had pene- trated tHe left breast just below the heart, but “Why don’t you throw the —-— (usingavery vile | the | came rushing out on their jandings, each one ask- | The | ‘The body was already coid and stark, but the | face, which seemed to have been rather good-look- | tng in life, bore a placid and calm expression, as if there had not been the slightest pain in dying. It was one of those sights whien even involunta- rily move the hardest heart. Death and murder and misery in a family where a tew hours before there had been life and some happiness, at least— the lifelong suffering of a half dozen beings trom one moment of drunken frenzy; for sad as is the fate of the dead, the future of the living seems Still more appallin, . WHAT THE CORONER DID. The Coroner, when at the houce, examined Kate Broderick, the dauzhter of the murderer. Her story ran as follows:— STATEMENT OF MISS BRODERICK, “Last night, late, my mother, myself and my | brothers Janes and Jotin returned home from @ picnic. At six o'clock tnis morning father said to my grandmother, ‘Get up, you old crone; if you don’t leave here there will be blood spilt.’ Grandma said she would go. He then threw grandma on the bed, } then said to my sister | Clara, “Go and wake un Jimmy: thére will be mur- der here.’ Then my two brothers came out of | their room into the kitchen, Pather then stracte my brother John with @ lath. My brother James | went to protect John, when my father stapbed | dames and theu stabbed Jolin; then he Uiosed his knife. The stabbing occurred in the kitchen, Captain Gariand came and arrested father and | took him to the Twenty.eighth precinct station | house.” é Aiter leaving the tenement Coroner Young called | Upon the prisoner, at the station house, aud had | an interview with him, during which Broderick | inquired tenderiy after his sons, and when told that James was dead his anguish seemed almost | tog great for human nature to bear. | Broderick paced backwards and forwards in big | cell, wrung his hands, tore his hair and y rotested that he did not intend to kill the bov. He could not teli What prompted him to use aknife on the boys. Deputy Coroner Marsh will make a post-mortem examination on the body of deceased to-day at the house where he was Killed, and an inquest will soon be held by Coroner Young. THE WASHINGTON STREET HOMICIDE, An Investigation Before Coroner Keenan—T'wo Verdicts in the Case. Coroner Keenan yesterday held an inquest, at No. 40 East Houston street, in the case of John McLaughlin, late of No. 2 Washington street, who, It is alleged, was knocked down anu fatally kicked, «in the porter house of Daniel Sullivan, No. 33 Wash- ington street, on Monday last, by John Lyons, a3 previously reported in the HERALD. Terence O'Connor, bartender in the groggery, deposed—Saw deceased and prisoner standing at or , hear the bar, when Lyons pushed or knocked Mc- Laughlin down on the floor, immediately after which Lyons kicked McLaughlin about the face or side of the head; did not hear any words between prisoner or deceased previons to the assault. Patrick Welch testiied—Saw deceased fall, but don’t know who struck him. Jolin Mahony, of No. 88 Washington street, de- osed that McLaughlin went up to Lyons in the arroom and said to him, “I think you have the | Price of two drinks;” McLaughlin ‘then walked | awa) ons going to the bar tor @ drink of water, and while there McLaughiin caught him by the | collar and shoox him; whereapon Lyons struck or shoved him and he fell on the Moor; Lyons then kicked him. By request of his counsel, Messrs. Howe & Ham- mel, the prisoner was placed on the stand and tes- tifled in his own behalf. He said he was first as- saulted by deceased and then struck him, and pos- sibly may have kicked him once, but without any { intent to take his life or todo him great bodily arm. Dr. Beach. testified that he made @ post-mortem eXamination on the body and found that compres. sion of the brain, pro! from @ ‘all, was the cause of death; the kicks deceased may have re- ceived had nothing whatever to do with bis death. | The case was then given to the jury, who rendered two verdicts. Four of the jury found “that deceased, came to his death by compression of the rain caused by @ fall, tall wae the result of a blow at the hands of John Lyons, at No, 83 Washington street, on the i8th day of Au. gust, 1873." Two other jurors added to the above :—“And we further believe that in striking deceased Lyons had no intention of taking his ‘The prisoner's counsel made a motion that he be admitted to bail, but Coroner Keenan denied it ae the present. Lyons was recommitted to the