Litchfield enquirer., 1871-01-26
HAWTHORNE.

Ticknor and Fields, Fields, Osgood < Col
 publishes recollections of Hawthorne, with occasional letters of the great author. Oi
 the publication of the Scarlet Letter, 'he says: tsf.a 14s
 s'In the winter 1849, after he had been ejected from the Custom house, I went down to Salem to see him and enquire af-
 ter his health, for we heard he had been suffering from illnness. He was then liv ing in modest wooden house in Oliver street, if I remember rightly the location. found him alone in the chamber over the sitting.room of the dwelling, and, as the day was cold, he was lowering near stove. We fell into talk about his future prospects, and he was. as I feared I should find him.
 in very desponding mood "Now," said l, ''is the time for you to publish; for know during these years in Salem, you must have got something ready for the press" Nonsense, said he; "What heart had to write anything, when my publish.
 CTS (M. and Company have been so many
 years trying to sell small edition of the
 IaDice- Told 1dles?" I still pressed upon
 him the good chances he would have now
 with something new. ''Who would risk
 publishing book. for me, the most unpop-
 ular writer in America?" I' T would" said I, ''and would start with all edition oi 2,OO0 copies of any thing you write. What Emadness!" he exclaimed; s.your friendship for me gets the better of your judgment.
 No, no, The continued; "I have no money
 to indemnify a publishers losses on my
 account" l, looked at my watch and found that the train would soon be starting fol Boston, and I knew there was not much
 time to lose in trying to discover what had
 been his literary work during these last few years in Salem. I remember that I pressed him to reveal to me what he had
 been writing. He shook his head and gave me to understand that he had pro- duced nothing. At that moment I caught sight of a bureau or set of drawers near where we were sitting; and immediately Il occurred to me that hidden away some. where in that article of furniture was a story or stories by the author of the Ituice-
 1old Tales, and I became so positive of it that l charged him vehemently with the fact. He seemed surprised, thought, but shook his head again; and 1 rose to take my leave, begging him not to come into the cold entry, saying would come back and see him again in few days. was hurrying down the stairs when he called after me from the chamber, asking me to stop moment. Then quickly stepping into the entry with roll of manuscripts in his hands, he said: 'sHoW ih heaven $ name did you know this thing was there? As you have found me out, take what l have written, and tell mo after you get home and have time to read 1t, if 1t is good for anything It is either very good or very bad-I don't know which," On my way up to Boston, read the germ of 1he Scarlet Letter. Before slept that night, l wrote him note all aglow with admiration of the marvellous story he had put into my hands, and telling him that would come again to Salem the next day and arrange for its publication. I went on in such an amazing state of excitement when we met again in the little house, that he would not believe I was really in earnest. He seemed to think was beside myself, and laughed sadly at my enthusiasm. However, we soon arranged for his appearing again be- fore the public in the shape of Q book
 The following is one of several letters regarding a queer difficulty into which Hawthorne became involved upon publca- tion of the "House of Seven Gables'':
 '' m ---- T. Esq, of Boston, has writ ten to me, complaining to me that have made his grandfather infamous! It seems there was actually a Pyncheon (or Pyn- chon, as he spells it) family resident in Sa- lem, and that their representative at the period of the Revolution, was certain Judge Pynchon, Q tory and refugee. This was MT. -s grandfather, and lat least so he dutifully describes him) the most exem- plary old gentleman in the world There are several touches in my account of the Pyncheons, which, he says make it prob able that had this actual family in my eye, and he considers himself infinitely wronged and aggrieved, ard thinks it mon strous that the 'virtuous dead cannot be suffered kto rest quietly in their graves
 lie further complains that I speak disre- spectfuiiy of the ----s in Gfandfather's Chair. He writes more in sorrow than in anger, though there is quite enough of the latter quality to give piquancy to his epis- tie. The joke of the matter is, that I nev- CT heard of his grandfather, ror knew that any Pyncbeons had ever lived in Salem,
 but took the name because 1t suited the tone of my book, and was as much my property, for fictitious purposes, as that of Smith, l have pacified him by a very po- lite and gentlemanly letter, and if ever you publish any more of tue iSepen Gables, l should like to write brief preface ex- pressive of my anguish for this uninten- tional wrong. and making the best repara- ton possible. else these wretched old Pyn- cheons will have no peace in the other world, nor in this. Furthermore, there is a Rev. Mir. -, resident within four miles ofl me, and Q cousin of Mir. --, who states that he likewise is highly indignant. Who would have dreamed of claimants starting up for such an inheritance as the House of tbe SeUen Ga5les?'' @ en.s Gen. Chanzy, the commander of the French army of the Loire, is native of the Department of Ardennes, and is aged about AT years. He went to sea at the age of l6, but q year later he abandoned . sail or's life to join the army. He studied at SL Cyr,and from there went, with the rank of lieutenant, to Algiers, where he remain ed until the Italian war of 1859, wherein
 he gained the rank of lieutenant colonel. He next went to Syria with the army, and served there with so much credit that he was made colonel in 1860. On his return, he was, at his own request, sent 10 Africa again, and there attained the rank of gen. eral. He was recalled from Africa to en. gage in the present war in October, and was soon placed in command. of division. He took part in. the battle at Coulmiers, and at Patay, at the head of the Sixteenth