The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1868-09-05
IFIOM INC NOW 1erK DoInOCIal.
THE MORGUE.
AN HOUR WITH RAMElESS DEAD.
A WILD SCENE!
A Yelled Lady Recognizes the
Corpse Of Her Lover!
THE BLOODSTONE RING
ONs MORE UNFORTUNATE!
Shadows OH the Wall!

beholder as at the Morgue. The tres
ties are seldom without more than one
or more corpses, claiming recegni-
tion which is not often made. Victims
of "man's inhumanity to man"-the
clay-cold remains of the suicide, the
stranger drunkard from afar, and all
types of the nameless poor who have
sought reliefin death from life which
had become insupportable--all are to
be found here at one time or another;
and lonely and unrecognized, the ma
jority are borne to their last resting
place in the Potter's Field.
vIsITTo THE DEAD HOUSE
By our reporter few days ago was
especially incidental. On one of the
marble tables lay the inanimate body
of man, but a few hours before in the
flower of youth and vigor.
1t was that Of suicide, and the head
was partially disaigured by a pistol shot
in the temple; but the pale, delicate
features were beautiful in death. The
naked form was white as the driven
snow, and the small, beautifully shaped
feet and soft, delicate hands were indi-
cative of a life of refinement and luxu-
ry. With a ceaseless drip, drip, the
water trickled on the forehead, and
flowed softly oser the mJtionless form
to keep it cool and fresh.
We were the only occupant of the
apartment at the time, but while we
sadly gazed on the face of tho dead our
mind busy with conjectures as to
the nature of the circumstances which
had caused this mournful end, hack
was driven swiftly up the street, and
stopped at the door. In moment
MYSTERIOUS LADY,
richly dressed and closely veiled, en-
tered the apartment. 1t was impossible
to note her features, but slight shift
ing of the heavy veil revealed a shoul-
der of marble whiteness; the ungloved
hands were of perfect shape, and loaded
with precious stones.
There was something wild and hurried
in her manner. She passed with a
trembling step from case to case-each
of which contained an occupant-and
finally paused before the one at which
we were standing. The little hand
trembletl as it leaned against the railing.
She bowed her head and appeared to
study the lineaments of the corpse with
intense eagerness, for the head had
rolled in such a manner as to take the
face almost entirely from our point OF
view.
''Not one mark to identify the body
not one, not onew murmured the lady,
raising her head: and her voice was low
and muSical.'
We silently pointed to large seal
ring, of bloodstone setting, which gilt
tered on the finger of the dead, and
which had evidently escaped her agita-
ted scrutiny.
She threw another glance, then stag
gered back, and with a groan q an-
guish, exclaimed:
at is he! it is he. Oh God! | drove
drove him to it," And rushing out of
the room, she sprang into the carriage,
and was swiftly driven away.
She left no clue and in all probability
the poor corpse was borne to a diShon-
ored grave, without mourner in its
train. A thousand conjectures drifted
through our mind, inspired by the scene
we had Just witnesSed; but they were
unconnected and vague, and we pass ed
slowly on to the next case. 1t was the
body of
BEAUTIFUL MAGDALEN,
of such surprising loveliness as to in
stantly rivet the attention, and long
haunt the dreams of the observer.
Pound drowned" She was one of
the hapless handreds who came under
the stereotyped caption, and who are
seldom recognized when the dark flow
ing river gives up its dead.
She could not have been over sixteen.
The small delicately cut features were
as beautiful as statue. Dark as mid
night, the long wavy hair flowed around
the head and partially hid shoulders,
while her bust was of alabaster white
ness and noble shape. The limbs were
study for a Canova, and the whole
form would have inspired the dearest
music of poets soul. A ray of sun
light peered through the grating of the
stone built cell, and glittered on the
dead lips till they seemed to smile.
ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE.
God only knows how unfortunate
she had at last reached the goal of her
young bright life, and now might tell
her name to the recording angel, but it
must remain forever sealed TO man.
How did she def Was she hurled
| into the wave by the wretch who had
become sated with her beauty, and then
wearied of her as an incumbrancei Or,
! fatigued aud wretched in life of shame,
had she wandered to the rivers brink.
and sought death as a REFUGEE
Most probably the latter. As We
gazed sadly and thOughtfully, 4 vision
arose of the poor one in life, flying to
the edge of dark pier, wild and des-
perate, like q hunted thing. Then
came the single glance behind, the
splash in the gloomy stream, wave
muffled cry, and while
.Afar, in its guilt, shone the city that crowned
And wreAtbed her young Lrows with the lau.
rels OF sin;
And turbid and near ran the river that drowned
A dark.rOlling refuge from what she had
! been
Then came the final scenes; the shape
less object floating in the sunlight-the
boatman with his hook-the busy po-
lliceman--the death caIt-the Morgue.
The third body was exposed to view
MURDER AND ITS VICTIM
The face of the corpse IS so horribly
beaten and crushed as to be utterly un.
recognizable, and the frame also bruis,
ed and lacerated as if the unknown
murderer had been possessed with the
bloody spirit of fiend in hell.
"Found dead in the streets" Such
will probably be the gist of the coro.
ner's inquest.
Perhaps the murderer himself has
stood just on this spot We occupy, only