Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1869-06-11
4 Homicide.

" Far down in the old French quarter
of New Orleans is an old building, now
deserted and Fastening to decay. 1t is q
rehc OF another age, and was built nearly
q century ago. Once the seat of opulence,
it has sheltered princes, and its history is
Legendary in romance. Somehow an evil
name was awarded it, and since knew it, .
said Mr.. F., cit has been inhabited by
the vicious and depraved. One night in.
formation was brought to Mr. 7 and
| my3elf that q murder had been committed
| there, and we hastened to ascertain the
facts aud arrest, if it were possible, the
criminal. Reaching the place we ascended
| an old rickety stairway to a room in the
back part of the building. A crowd, such
as invariably gather to the scene of a
homicide, were already .here, looking on
| with pallid, awestrAck faces 1T the body
of II man lying dead on the floor. 1T was
youthful face that shone pallid and white
in the glare of the burning lamps-a calm,
! white face, and the broad brow disclosed a
mind instinct with intelligence. His ap-
| parcl, though neat, was coarse, and but
for the soft slender hands and the costly
jewel that glittered on his finger one might
| have deemed him man in humble life
| In his hand was piece of woman's d1 ess,
and the knife that still remained in his
| breast was q costly knife, fit only for a
womans use. It had penetrated the heart,
and the man had died without struggle
"Who had killed him?
cit was the question on every lip, and
filled the daily papers afterward.
You may have read an account of it in
an old copy of the Picayune.
''No one was living in the house at the
| time-for weeks before it had been de-
| serted; only the neighbors said that for
| r irhf fhau ho1 Eon% oh,
| from the window. It was soon put out,
and no sound of footsteps was heard-only
| on the night of the homicide a cry had
| been heard--a scream as if from q woman
the patter of running feet, and then all
was still.
'sThis was all.
| s'We searched the building high and
| low, but nothing more could be ascertain
| ed. On the body of the dead man was
| found some papers. which showed him to
be foreigner-a Spaniard, indeed; and
| the miniature of g woman, young and
beautiful, and evincing N the naughty
poise of the head--the jewels that flashed
from her hair, the air of nameless grace
| about her-a creature born to a heritage
| of wealth as we'll as beauty. It was a sim
gular face, however, and would rivet the
eyes of all that looked upon it. The warm
flush of her native cline seemed still to
rest upon the rounded cheeks and chiseled
lips, and the coronal of braided hair rest
| ed like a crown upon her head. The eyes
| were large and soft, and one seemed to see
| the picture of Genevieve or Evremand,
radiant in smiles, looking at him from the
| painted ivory. 1t was such face as poets
dream of Or painters picture in their Wis
ions of the beautiful. But there was a
| look of life about it which showed it the
semblance of a living creature. little
| ieweled finger touched the crimsoned lips,
which seemed parted to speak in jest or
laugh or smile. I could almost swear the
cadence of that laugh was musical, as the
sunny smiles were beautiful. It wore a
look of Joy and brightness such as the rays
of a sunbeam fling on the petals of flower
| or the bud Of rose when it sparkles in
the dew.
| "Ihere was no name, no address the
| Jewels and the picture were all we had to
identity the man or learn the cause of his
death. But less potent auXiliaries had fre-
quently led to the detection of crime and
the arrest of the criminal. Both MIR. +
and myself felt a strange interest in the
case We abandoned other matters to look
up this. Night and day we studied it, and
no clue was left unfolded, no trace disre-
garded, that might contribute to our sue
months-a year had nearly passed and
gone. Business of importance called me to
| New York. One day, in company with
! some friends [ visited the insane asylum.
Immagine my surprise-I had almost said
horror-when tell you that among the in
mates [ met the original Of the picture a
maniac. There could be no doubt of it
here in all the glory of her young woman.
hood in all her beauty. The malady that
had shattered reason had still left her the
wondrous beauty that had first attracted
my attention. Here was clue.
"T ascertained that she had been brought
there months before by man who repre-
sented himself as her father, and who yet
occasionally visited her, but for whom she
expressed the utmost horror, and would al.
ways address him as murderer. [ asked
to see her wardrobe, and among her cloth
ing found an old dress with piece torn
out similar to that found in the hands OF
the murdered man. / was satisfied now
that I had my man. Cautiously l became
acquainted with him. Iprofessed interest
in his daughter [ learned his history
all, save period of q few months, on
which he never touched. One day CON
fronted him in a moment when he appear
ed to be afflicted with great mental de-
preston. I accused him of the homicide,
and told him he was my prisoner. 1 never
saw a person SO utterly frightened. He
said he would confess all-he did.
The girl was in truth his daughter, bui
had fed with the young man whom she
married against his will. They came to
New Orleans, and hither he followed them
They had met in the old house By appoint
ment he had provided means to carry of
the daughter by force. struggle ensued,
and the man was killed. This was all.
CT brought my prisoner back to the
city, but before the day of the trial he
; died. It is one of the sad memories thai
still fingers around my career. often re-
,, vert to it when thinking of the past, and
sometimes wish I had never known th'
truth.
Mr.. M. Kennedy, near San Antonio
/ Texas, has ranch of 130, 600 acres, fencet
| in. With 40. 600 head of cattle upon il. !