The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1879-05-07

as one of the crew of q canal boat. l wan
dered along the wharves of the metrop-
oils, searching anxiously for some means
of escaping the country, and longing
even to flee the fellowship of civilized
man. The opportunity was finally dis
covered in a ship about sailing around
Cape Horn for the Pacific coast, on board
of which my services were accepted in a
menial capacity.
| was soon safe from discovery and
pursuit, and free upon the boundless
waters--free as one could feel with the
remorse of hellish deed upon his soul,
and the abandonment of all hope of a
happy hour in life again.
| need not describe the experience of a
long and tedious sea voyage, and the
hardships and indignities put upon me
in consequence of incfficiency and total
Ignorance of seaman's duties. To me
it was of little account. But the change
of life and scene and the sea air had a
wonderful effect i'll repairing my mental
and physical strength. 1t was on a bright
morning that | first spied the
hazy shores of California, and in a day
or two thereafter sauntered along the
streets of San Francisco, alone in new
world, with only the companionsllip of
bitter recOllections.
As necessity required I sought employ
ment, and managed to sustain myself,
leading listless, purposelcss sort of life.
But the monotony soon became oppress-
i've, and the apprehension of ultimate
discovery excited renewed anxiety. Ere
quently | fancied the recognition of a
familiar countenancc on the streets, that
kept me in painful uncertainty.
The day came in which my worst fears
were realized. The miserable wretch in
whose house | was sojourning delivered
me into the hands of Justice. By what
means he discovered my identity | could
not determine, but met my fate boldly,
for remorse had 50 far embittered my ex-
istence that l disdaiied longer to strug-
gle for its continuance.
"Gcntlemen," | exclaimed, as the
officer incloscd my wrists with iron
shacklcs, "take your accursed reward!
| am Charles Harden, the murderer,
fron-"
They dragged me to prison, and the
officers of the law came and questioned
me. | told them all, and they trans
ferred me to more secure confinement,
lest | should escape again the retribution
of crime.
Long | fingered in the solitude of a
gloomy cell, awaiting the final decree of
fate, until calm indifference succeeded
despair, and gradually every emotion,
even life itself, seemed to subside into a
dream.
Buta day came when my sensibilities
seemed terminating, like one emerging
from trance. Slowly my mind mani
tested activity, and in time | recalled my
identity; then suddenly the recollection
of my whole life flooded back upon me,
and all the weight of its great burden of
remorse again descended.
An old man, whose kindly countenance
had become fami lar to me as in vision
and sought to rally my despond-
ency with words of hope and encourage
ment.
"You have had long, bad spell, Har-
den," he continued, 'hut you are coming
around all righ now, and will soon be out
in the world again"
Then wls not in prison, but an in
sane asylum. Thank heaven, my wretched
guilt had not been discovered.
And then | learned from the old man
The circumstances of my arrest as a luna
tic, and the nature of my atiiiction. In
the operation of trepanning at the hands
of unskilled surgeons, a small splinter of
The fractured skull had been left adher-
ing in a position to irritate the membrane
of the brain, and this trifing oversight
had caused the insanity attended with
such sad results, to blast the happiness of
my life forever, and stamp my memory
with the ignominy of murder.
The arrangement had been effectively
by the skilled surgeon of the
asylum, and my mind now rapidly re-
covered its original power. But what
availed it, reflected bitterly; and why
had | been restored from peaceful lunacy
to Il consciousness to which death would
be relief.
One morning the old attendant of
whom l have spoken interrupted my
gloomy meditations with a ctuntcnance
more than usually cheerful, that seemed
to radiatc the light of some hidden hope.
Harden" he remarked, "you are
growing vigorous again in both body and
mind. | have message for you that
may excite you little. DO you think
you can stand an agreeable surpriseW
Anything agreeable to hear would,
indeed, be SURPRISE" replied "But,
my dear friend, | fear the world could
now hardly afford a message to me sufi-
GENTLY pleasurable to inspire any appre-
ciable excitement"
"WeIl, if you are confident to that
extent, | will permit the bearer of the
message to impart it directly to you"
The old man withdrew, and presently
returned with companion. A thrill,
premohitory of some great surprise
Startled me as | heard the approaching
footsteps.
| raised my eyes. Great heavens! they
met the old love-look of my wife, ready
to advance into my arms.
The ardor with which | returned her
embrace was assuring that my power of
nerve was restored.
The last great hallucination was dis
PEELED, and a ray of gladness burst in
upon my heart streaming through the
dark cloud of despair that had hung over
me those long and wretched years. |
laughed and wept by turns. And then
| drew the recovered treasure of my life
more firmly to my breast, fearful | was
still in dream that might vanish and
leave me again in misery and despair.
"And how did you follow me herep
| demanded, when sufficiently collected
In make the inOlIiry.