The Grange advance., 1874-11-11
FROM LUXURY TO POVERTY.
The Weary Life and Sad Death of
m Aristocratic southern Girl.
From the New Y ork Graphic.]

| was tue pTOuQeSt OF all the OOQt0ern
cities that threw down the gage of def.
ance to the Union. Her beautiful
homes and outlying plantations were
the envy and admiration alike Of the
American visitor and European tour
list. Then came the war and it's long
story of fierce excitement. resentful
suffering, and utter desolation. When
it had passed, Guy Lockwood, one of
the proudest, though not one of the
wealthiest, Of the Virginia aristocracy,
found himself utterly ruined. His
handsome. residence was occupied as
barracks for Federal solliers. With
his wife and little daug liter Estelle,
then IL years of age, be sought refuge
and a home with friends in the central
part Of the State. These, too, had lost
houses, crops and slaves by the inva-
sion of the Northern armies in the val.
ley warfare. He was descended from a
Cavalier family who had fought the
army Of regicides until Charles had
fallen on the scaffold and made
further resistance objectless. With
poverty came sickness and
= final surrender of hope. One day
his wife died. She had faded quietly
and uncomplainingly away under the
insidious attacks Of consumption. A
week afterward Guy Lockwood called
his little daughter to his bedside, and
with his last accents cenfided her to the
care of his nephew, in whose house he
lay dying. Seven years passed away,
and the helpless orphan was a young
woman. With q mind singularly do
cile, she had, with such advantages Of
schooling as the gradually improving
state of affairs in the conquered State
had been brought within her reach, &C.
quired an excellent education,
and in literary exercises she
had easily distanced all her
schoolmates. Then her cousin, the
only remaining friend upon whom she
had any claim, died. The young girl
who had been nursed in luxury, had
been taught self.reliance by sad exper-
iencc. She now returned to Richmond
hopeful and determined, to push her
own fortune in the world. She could
write, she was led to believe, for publi-
cation, or, if not, she could find copy
ing, or At least sewing. In Richmond
all was changed. The old neighbors
and acquaintances of her parents had
moved away, or we're themselves in =
condition to receive rather than to give
aid. The old society had given place
to something that was new and very
different. Three years passed.
She found no encoar.
agement to use her pen, ond
had recourse to her needle. She had
but meager success, and became dis
heartened. As fortune failed her in
her native city, she began to picture to
herself q brig ghter future in the great
metropolis. Accordingly, two years
ago, she entered the eseething maelstrom
Of New York. Her story here is short
and simple. She bought sewing ma
chine, and paid for it in installments.
Her little home, in reputable tene-
ment, on the East Side, consisted of q
single room. For year she labored
with all her might, and then she found
that continuous work began to tire her
to an unusual degree. She fought it
off as best she could, but the hereditary
disease Of which her mother died had
fallen upon her in her
that found scanty asylum from the
dust of summer, and the SHOWS of win
ter, upon her single window sill, were
As we'll cared for and looked as bright as
before, but her own frail body, that now
needed every ease that love could eug.
gest, was more and more neglected. At
last, the time came when she could no
longer work the ten or twelve hours 4
day-the earnings Of which, even in her
illness, we're necessary to support her.
Her disease and the weakness born OF
slow starvation forced her to her bed.
Here she vas reported, not to the Cor.
oner, rs she might have been, but to
kindly Mrs. 49, NJ. W.. Ferrer,
Of the Workingwomen's Protective
Union. The treacherous malady
seemed to yield to hope and proper
nourishment. She recovered suffi-
GENTLY to resume her work. Then
about six months ago-she broke down
entirely. Her landlady maintained the
poor girl for months, and thought she
J, would do so until the end. In this she
WAS mistaken. = About = week ago Els.
telle. in one Of those freaks of apparent
convalescence with which consumption
delights to mock its victims, cot up
from her bed one day, went to Mrs.
Ferrer, and told her the. whole story.
The Union resolved. to pay the poor