Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1866-10-26
That boy and his mother deserve testi-
monial.-Proyidence Press.
The Last Hours of a New Orleans
Martyr--A Tale of Rebel
Barbarity.

of Boston contains an account of the last
hours Of the Rev. Mr.. Horton, one Of the
martyrs of the New Orleans massacre,
which testifies conclusively as to his un-
stained character as Christian and pa
triot, his freedom from personal ambition,
and the wantonness of his murder. Mr..
Horton received five balls in his body, and
fell. These balls were fred by policemen.
Not satisfied with their work, they seized
him, battered his head with their billies
stabbed him, kicked and dragged him over
the pavements to the first station, the
mob following behind, crushing, beating
and tramping him with their shoes.
Thrusting him in cell, he was left man.
gled and senseless.
He was flung into cart after lying
awhile at the station house, and under
sitting load oil dead and wounded negroes
his stomach crushed in by blow of
heavy plank, he was taken to the Marine
Hospital
His wife, after waiting anxiously for
him all the day and night, started as soon
as it was morning in search of him.
Information had been received through
the city papers that Gen. Baird, the mill
tary comandant, had released all who had
been arrested and confined by the police,
giving the name of her husband among
the rest, and stating that he had returned
home. Acting on this representation she
went alone to Carrolton, but only to re-
turn by the next train. He was not
there. Without waiting for breakfast she
set off for Gen. Biard's headquarters, a
young Methodist clergyman, Mr.. Henry,
one of Mr.. HIS boarders, insisted on be-
ing her company,
No sooner did Gen. Baird see Mrs.
Horton and know who she was, than he
expressed much surprise that her husband
had not been seen, and told her he had
ordered his release. Perhaps she would
find him at the City Hall. To this place
she Immediately went, but she searched in
vain. He had not been there. She then
hurried to the first police station, deter
mined to wiring from the brutal officers a
confession of what they had done with her
husband. Entering the office she forced
her way within the rails, and asked of the
clerk what they had done with her hus-
band. The man declared that "preacher
Horton" had been sent by him to Charity
Hospital, and she at once hurried thither.
Again she was disappointed. He had not
been seen there. (The truth was the cart
that carried Mr.. Horizons bod dy had stop
ped there, and been sent away, as it ap-
peared to be occupied only by blacks.)
The horrible idea now suggested itself to
the afflicted woman that her husband had
been conveyed away with load of dead
bodies, and had been buried alive, but, as
a last resort, she determined to visit the
Marine Hospital. This was in low and
distant part of the city, and devoted en-
tirely to negroes, and she could not have
believed he would be carried there by his
worst enemies, but at friends suggestion
she sought the place, still accompanied by
Mr.. Henry.
Arrived at the gate she was refused en-
trance, but catching glimpse of DIR. Har-
ris, the head surgeon, whom she knew
she called to him and asked if her husband
was there. DIR. Harris could give no pos
tive assurance, but immediat ely ordered
the servant to admit her. Forgetting her
WEAKNESS in her joy that her long quest
had at last succeeded, the faithful woman
bounded up the steps, and without wait
ing to be directed rushed in among the
patients, found out her husband, and sunk
exhausted upon his bosom. What spec
tacle The form she loved bruised and
helpless mass of flesh and blood, his head
swollen to the size of two, and his left arm
useless, and his right shattered and man.
gled. He moved perpetually about with
the restless, nervous gestures of dream
ing infant. So badly trampled and beat
en- was his head aud face, that his eyes
were blinded, and painful rotching, pro-
duced by the injuries to his stomach, OBJ
structed his breath and speech. But
through all the anguish and darkness of
his wreck he knew his wife. That she
should have known him is miracle to
all who do not understand the inspired sa-
| gacity of wife's affection.
"9ipe my face, Emma" he gasped, as
if she had been bending over him ever
since he fell.
Worn and broken hearted the poQr wo-
man sat down by her husbands side and
tried to strengthen herself for the task O
soothing and comforting his last hours, fol
she knew too well that he could not live
Nineteen long hours she had searched fo
| him and now TO find him thus