Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-07-27

An Interesting Letter About the Quiet
Old Town of Frankfort and Its En-
vfrOns.

hear the flies buzzing around its doing
eyelids. No change alters its tranquil
aspect or distuTbs the familiar
tenor of its way to those who know it
best. And it is so picturesquely lazy; 1t
Just seems TO lie on its back IN the sun
and look upward to its green hills in an
ineffable peace and content. The yellow
afternoon sunshine lies still and seOrch-
ing in the streets-these Maynard streets
that go clambering up the hills and
down the slopes without chart or
compass; but there are shady corners
here and there, sometimes right in the
heart of the town, and wide, low-browed
houses standing under the waving shadow
of trees, With great, lOw-ceiled rooms, and
Old-fashioned halls and stairways, over
which many generations Of children have
trooped. The Kentucky river winds
around and cuts the town in two, and
picturesque bridge with a gable roof con-
meets the fragments. Thus Frankfort
people have acquired quite a consequent
tial manner OF saying ssNorth Frankfort"
and "South Frankfort" as though it were
a city of magnificent distances, and the
two localities were leagues and leagues
apart. Talk about moving the capital!
1t couldn't get away if it tried, and it
wouldn't stay away il it were moved.
The Capital Hotel has become one of the
historic spots Of Frankfort since Tom
BufOrd shot Judge Elliott at its door.
The spot where the shot was fired, and
where Elliott fell, are pointed out to the
stranger much as the stones in the pave
ments where religious martyrs died at the
stake are shown to tourists abroad. The
hotel ITSELF, although ii has had its day as
a great rendezvous for noted people, when
you take it sideways is tritie forbidding,
being built of stone grimly and compactly,
and looks so much like branch OF the
penitentiary one shrinks little from en-
tering its massive precincts. In front IT
presents a sternly simple visage, its pill
Jared portico resembling a Roman temple.
There are not a few localities which
serve as Meccas to the curious pilgrim.
Every visitor knows there is place
where Aaron Burr's tavern once stood,
but it is now covered up with new house
and looks just like anywhere else. 1t
seems to be a doubtful question whether
the present courthouse is the one where
Burr's trial took place; some old lnhabi-
tants are rather haZy on that point. 1t
appears that this is not the first and only
court house Frankfort ever knew; but
when this one came into existence is not
distinctly known. 1t certainly looks an
tique enough to have witnessed Burr's
christening and subsequent promotion to
coat tails.
Whatever is to be seen in the environs
of the capital you must climb to 1t; there
is no winding around these rugged hills,
but one needs the agility of a chamOis.
There is a turnpike leading out to the
famous cemetery, but another and more
picturesque way is by the cliff path
skirting the river and rising higher and
higher into the upper world with every
tOiling step. 1t is only wide enough for
single person, and lurch to the right
would bring an astonished climber
sheer down a dreadful precipice to the
river. A rocky wall rises on the left and
the path ascends by flights of steps cut in
the solid rock. Far overhead a huge
sentinel rock towers over the path like
the leaning tower of Pisa, and stands like
a watchful guardian over this wild and
beautiful scene. 1t has no special name,
but if it were out West it would be called
a pyramid in the Garden OF the Gods"
or something else sounding equally ire
mendous, and there would be grand eX-
cursions to see it and a big price charged
for the sight. The river twists like rib
bon here and the railroad follows it, max
ing one of the sharpest curves known in
railroad engineering in America.
THE CEMETERY IS LOVELY PLACE
by nature. and there has been no need to
make artificial beauties. The sward
heaves into rolling hillocks and SINKS
into green valleys just at Natures bid
ding, and the trees grow where the seeds
fell time beyond memory. The white
shaft of the State monument over the
Mexican veterans rises and pierces the
blue summer haze and seems to tremble
in the still, hot atmosphere. Daniel
BoOne's monument is in the coolest and
shadiest part of the cemetery. -Four huge
sycamOres mark the spot and a semi
circular hedge of living green closes it in
its quiet seclusion. The monument is
dark and stained with age, and relic hum
tiers have Clipped away the stone until
the letters of the name are almost illegi-
BILE. During the war 1T was so defaced
that new panels had to be inserted in its
four sides, and appear new and white
against the old stOnewOrk. These panels
represent various scenes in the life of the
pioneer; in one he is demolishing an In-
dian, and the flattery of the sculptor
makes him seem to have no trouble at all
in reducing his adversary to pulp.
The handsomest edlfice around Frank
fort is the Predetermined Institute, which
stands high above the town and COM
mands fine view. 1t consists of two
enormous solid blocks of brick and stone
connected like pair of Siamese twins by
long wide halls and rows of dormitOries,
and is surrounded by extensive grounds
beautifully laid out in fountains and
flowers.
There have been several noticeable re-
forms in the treatment of prisoners in the
Frankfort Penitentiary which has so long
been bone Ofcontention and name of
reprOach.
Conyicts are no longer punished with
the lash, nor are the female prisoners
dressed in the striped suit. The women
formerly wore trousers like the men, and
WITH their shaved heads could hardly be
distinguished from them. All this is
changed; the cells are clean, and as COM
Portable as convict quarters can be made.
The women formerly were not placed in
cells but occupied one large dOrmitory,
but they would get into terrific combats
and seek to eXterminate each other, so
they were given separate apartments,
''with modern improvements"-mir
and tOothpicks; civilization is making
rapid strides in the Frankfort Peniten-
tiary.
For town which plays a small fiddle
in the crowd, this place can boast of sew
eral literary curiOsities. Ascending a
straight and narrow stairway rising from
the sidewalk of Main street, one finds
himself in the dusty upper regions Of the
YeOD1d7 Office, and comes face to face
with Major Stanton, the Kentucky poet,
whose writings are known all over the
land. Who does not know 'Ethe Money1ess
ManY The Major is the last person in
the world in whom one would expect to
find a real live poet. He is short and
very fat, resembling an inflated beer bar
rel in shape, with the merriest eye and
the jOlliest manner in the world. He
might have stepped from the canvas of
one of the old Dutch painters. To couple
him with a Irritation with the Muse is to
make the most flexible imagination curl
up and die.
And then in a splendid old house,
framed in dropping branches and the
tangled shrubbery Of an unkept lawn, the
prettiest place in all Frankfort or near it,
dwells the poet-painter, Robert Burns
Wilson. He is contributor to the lead
ing magazines and wrote the rOem on
GarfieId's death, which, on being read by
Queen Victoria, won a special compli-
ment for the author. He is rapidly taking
rank with the best Southern poets, and
opinion is divided whether the worlds
praise will be loudest for the painter or
the poet. In one or the other role he is
bound for a laurel wreath.
Frankfort also claims the Kentucky
lady, Miss Laura Ford, who has lately re-
ceiYed S., 600 for serial story from New
York publisher. Besides these there are
other ''mute, inglorious Millions" who
don't make a fuss over themselves, so
that the capital is not without its share of
lions. Nor does it scOrn to improve its APP
pearance in the eyes of men. 1t boasts of
a new onpra house that never need blush