The western Democrat. [volume] (Charlotte, N.C.) 1852-1870, 1867-12-03
SIXTEENTH yoLUME--NUMBER 7ss.

street. There was separate cell for women,
fitted UP expressly for the reception of Mrs. Pat
terson Allen but refined society cried out against
! the humiliation intended for it. and Mrs Allen
was transferred into the tender keeping Of the
Academy of st. Vincent de Sales But other
women, good, tender and innocent as she, have
mourned their days. and wept their nights away
in the gloomy apartment appropriated to their
sex at the Castle. -.
Three or four executions of spies, counterfeit
ers and outlaws took place during the war. The
executioner on all these occasions was John
Caphart, who was attached to Castle Thunder in
the capacity of detective for the commandant
Caphart was a man with history. He was the
same who, many years ago, in Massachusetts,,
when the Fugitive Slave Law was in force, brought
off from that State to Virginia, an escaped slave
named Burns, who had been remanded 20 his
master by the Massachusetts, courts.
The Abolitionists at the head of whom was
the notorious Passmore Williamson, attempted q
rescue as Caphart was carrying the slave away
to the cars. Caphart clung to his man, welded
his club, beating back his assailants, who black
and white, howled upon him like wolves. Burns
was torn from his clutch he grasped him again.
Away went part of Caphart's coat; he cared not,
but resolved to take his prisoner or die. He did
the former, and we believe brought Burns back
10 virginia, Ior Wnlcn ne was reWaTueu py MS
master.
Caphart, subsequently in the police of Norfolk,
and during the war at Richmond, maintained
that trait of indomnitable resolve. He was never
known once to let prisoner go after the iron
vice of his grasp was fairly upon him. Ii he
resisted he used peculiar heavy stick that he
always carried; but prisoners, knowing their man,
usually submitted. Caphart in person, was tan,
heavy set; beard white, long and flowing, and
adown the hairy strands muddy rivulet of to-
bacco juice was always coursing. His face was
hard; features large and firm; eyes grey, cold and
cruel
AT an execution, Caphart was of-hand and
inspron.ptu, showing no more concern while fix.
ing the moose, or pulling the bolt, than when
turning the key in the lookup. If culprit ex-
postulated with him about the arrangement of
the noose Caphart would reply, "Oh, never
mind, / know how to fix it right" If he prayed
for a little more time, he would be comforted by
the assurance that the sooner over, the sooner
ended.
But oh! Mr. Caphart, do not want to die!"
"But you must. So be man. Now do, for
my sake You know / always treated you WE'LL"
patting the subject on the back.
"But my God Caphart, this is hard I"
~ know it is, but its my duty Now hush
That's enough. Good bye" pulling down the
cap, and turning down the steps.
"Oh one moment -"
Be-lung! falls the trap. Caphart's work Is
done, and as he surveys his work, he draws forth
a red bandanna, removes his hat, and stands
wiping his face-wiping a moist eye, perhaps.
But all these things are of the past, and here
we shall rest these Recollections of Castle Thun-
der. Caphart is dead and in his grave-passed
to that bourne to which he dispatched the male
n IL. Al Al. Al
The Castle doors opened, the guards re-
moved, and the prisoners gone to their country
and their home.
The Castle is Castle no more--only tobac-
co factory, in which busy hives of negroes work
and sing