The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1873-06-20
THE GOSSIP OF GOLD HILL.

| What was and is shall be, wed
| With that one sentence-She is dead.
THE GOSSIP OF GOLD HILL.
| The pioneer stage-coach that had
rumbled it's way along from Sacramen-
to, attended by pillow of cloud, more
alkaline, doubtless, but none the less
faithful than that of Israelitish renown,
suddenly projected itself upon the Sill
yer City vision, according to its daily
wont, one languid July afternoon. OF
curse it was remote July, when stage
companies fourished and fattened, and
railroad mOnOpolies existed only in the
covetOus visions of the greedy specula-
tors. The passengers, twelve in num-
ber-ten, including a little child, inside,
and two on the box-had passed through
| the experience common to travellers on
that route. They had sweltered un-
comfortably through the day, and had
shlvered In the GOODNESS of the mountain
night-air. From serenest attitudes of
rlbbon-like smOothness, they had gazed
upon the rugged picture of the pine
clad heights beneath them, calmly
sleeping in the moonlight, and had in
stinctively drawn toward the inside of
the grade, as the sharp-faced man ON
the middle seat designated the precise
locality of the last stage disaster, when
horses, coach, and passengers were pre-
cipitated into a heterogeneous COM
pound, two hundred feet below. They
had fallen into fitful dozes, and proved,
by severe cranial experiences, the
equality of action and reaction, until
their powers of philosophizing on the
subject were quite benumbed and,
with the general exhaustion and the
democratic level of beauty to which
they had been reduced by alluvial de-
posits, they had almost lost their indi-
viduality, and had quite forgotten the
intensity of interest with which they
had Looked forward to the wonderful
new mining towns which had sprung up
almost in a night, when Passing
through Devil Gate, % pronounced with
appropriate solemnity by the sharp
faced man, startled the torpid life into
momentary spasm of rebellion. Then
brutal voice outside was heard, say
ing, On you, let go, or I'll make a
corpse of you" adding a catalogue of
expletives impossible of repetition; and
the little lady on the back-seat looked
out of the window and saw the veritable
Devils gate, in all its wild beauty,
closing behind her, and felt a sudden
oppression, as if she had been unex-
pectedly thrust into satanic regions,
with no hope of reprieve.
Up the long, irregular canon, bris-
tling with quartz-mills, and lined with
queer, little houses, hastily improvised
of wood, and cloth, and paper through
the narrow main street, blocked with a
tangle of teams and men, the verdure-
less mountains rising bleakly on either
side, covered to certain height with
medley of buildings, trestles, and
dumps of blue earth bewildered by the
thunder of the mills and the jargon of
blasphemous tongues, they ratified on
into what seemed to be a very pande-
mOnium. They passed a few saloons,
store or two, then suddenly drew up,
and the driver shouted, Vesey house"
The cOach-door opened from without,
there was stir inside, an uncomforta-
bic compression of dry goods and hui
manity, folding together of the mid
die seat, and a gentleman with the child
alighted, and handed out the little lady
from the back-seat. As they passed
into the hotel, group of lOungers on
the steps took careful observations, and
one exclaimed, "What the devils Bliss
up to nOw?" "D-d if she don't look
like lady, anyhow" came the quick
response. Not one of his kind, I
reckon. AS the lady was passing to
her room, Bliss, as he had been dubbed
at the door, with quick instinct, OWNED
her look of sudden hOpelessness, and,
with charming courtesy and kindness,
spoke a few cheerful words, adding,
$50, hasten your toilet, or he'll be
here before you are ready"
Twenty years before, this same little
lady had made her embryonic appear
ance in a qniet New England village.
She had met her mother on the thresh-
hold of eternity, received her first, last
kiss, and, passing into time, had un-
consciously taken up the broken threads
of affection that had once encircled the
departed. She crept quietly into her
fathers vacant heart and warmed it
with her soft nesting. She became the
Little Amy of the village, whose claim
to love was neither questioned nor linn
tied. With certain royalty of birth
right, she had made childish appropria-
tion of the most promising boy of the
village, and had grown up in the enjoy
ment of his tacit proprietorship so that
when, with characteristic precipitation,
he had declared his purpose to seek
quick fortune in the new dorados of the
west, the good old deacon conceded to
him the first right to his little Amy,
and the village pronounced a quiet
amen. The honeymoon passed in a
subdued pathos begotten of the i'm
pending separation, and then he was
gone. At nineteen, little Amy became
a mother, and, with the development
of maternity, received a full supple
ment of character, a strength born of
weakness, for an all-potent motherhood,
in its infinite necessities, laid strong
hold of an Almighty arm, and was ex-
alted in the two best possibilities of
love, the love of God and that of little
children.
Another year passed, redolent of baby
bloom, and then the old man died. 1t
was Amy's first grief. and, in her sore
extremity, she naturally turned to her
distant husband for sympathy and
shelter. With an energy born of in
tense loneliness, she heIalded her ap-
proach by telegram, then set out in the
care of friends, to San Francisco, and
pushed on to the Washoe mines alone
By accident of conversation she had
heard her fellow-traveler, Mr. Bliss,
mention Gold Hill, and then speak in a
familiar way of the mine in which she
knew her husband to be most interested,
and, in response to S me proffered cour-
tesy at one of the stations, she had tim
idly made herself known, and found In
him an old comrade of Harry's, and
thenceforth her own kind friend and
escort.
The dust and stain of travel removed.
and baby dressed in dainty white mus
lin and fresh blue ribbons, she sat in
tremulous expectation of she scarce
knew not what, so strangely had he
spirits sunk. She even betrayed no
surprise when Mr.. Bliss returned alone.
and with forced cheerfulness, told her
4 Il 4 l. 1