Springfield globe-republic. (Springfield, Ohio) 1884-1887, 1885-08-02

he had baifled all the curious, intrusive
disturbers OF his peace. In the ex-
pressive language Of Shakespeare, "he
died and made no sign
Often during his life in the village
he would come from the postoflice
holding letter in his hand, and re-
mark. This is from my lady friend in
Edinburgh.
When he had passed away, Mrs.
Huntington. with rare good taste and
pathetic kindness, wrote letter de-
scribing his last moments. She ad-
dressed it to "Mr. Wallace's Lady
Friend. Edinburgh" and sent it
through the chain Of banks through
which the old mans money had come.
In due time a reply arrived-cold,
formal. unsympathetic. 1t was signed
"Mr. Wallace's Lady Friend"
H.
"Who was Mr.. Wallacep" see the
question in your eyes went to East
hampton in the fall of 1873, and did
my best to find out. talked with Mrs.
Huntington and Miss Cornelia Hunting
ton (author of a charming monograph
anent Easthampton and its ways in
uaNS ROUt Nv, Ctlltu Dtd spray,
and should count pilgrimage fruit
full which gave me the pleasure of their
acquaintance. l found them at tho
time Of my last visit enjoying a green
old age, loved and respected by all.
They told me much of great interest
about Mr. Wallace. and among other
things they spoke of finding copies Of
his accounts (of charities in his native
land) with the headings torn off. One
had been carelessly torn, and on it l
found name. | sent this name with
mass of notes to my late accomplish
ed friend Robert Mackenzie, ESQ.,, of
Dundee, Scotland. author Of "A His
tory of the Nineteenth Century" and
other interesting works. In a few
weeks he wrote me that he was ''on
the trail" In few weeks more he
sent me what he properly called "a
very tantalizing letter" Said he, II
know the mystery to the very bottom,
butt may not tell your
Not little disappointed, / commuui-
Gated this information to circle of
equally disappointed friends. One of
them distinguished divine, told me
that lit made his flesh creep like one
Of Wilkie Collins stories" Then
went to Scotlandp No-to Colorado.
of all places in the world, and at the
foot OF Pixies Peak. in the summer of
1879, found out all about the poor
exile. As living persons are concerned
in the manner of my discovery, l may
not rightly publish the details thereof;
but they are among the strangest hap
penings of any life. Suffice it to say
that on my return | held all the clews,
proofs and facts in my hands, and that
only now am | permitted to tell the
truth about John Wallace.
Perhaps some of you know how dis
tinguished and important a judicial
officer is the High Sheriff Of great
Scotch county. Such distinguished
and important officer was Sheriff
W, resident in Edinburgh. He
was bachelor of fifty years of age.
He was famed for his benevolcnce and
his good works. He was the friend of
the poor, the widow, and the orphan.
His service to the state had earned
him public testimonial. He had
"honor, love, obedience, troops of
friends" He was founder and ar
dent supporter of Sunday-schools Peo-
pie hocked from cultured Edinburgh
homes to hear his weekly addresses TO
the children.
One day, at the height of his fame,
there was made against him the subtle
charge of a grave and mysterious
crime. At six o'clock in the evening
the Lord High Advocate went to a
mutual friend.
GO to Sheriff W at once" said
he, in sad and measured tones, land
tell him that when 90 to my office at
ten o'clock tomorrow morning war
rant will issue for his arrest.
That night Sheriff W died out"
OF Scotland. He had just time to say
to friend that he was not guilty of
more than an indiscretion, but that
he could not face even the shame of
that.
His disappearance is mourned in Ed
inburgh after all these long years, and
tears came to the eyes of old friends
when it is mentioned. The man who
SO patiently bore the long cruclfixion
OF a self-imposed exile, the man who
endured the penance of thirty-one
years among strangers in strange
land. the man who read the beautiful
service in the little Easthampton
church, was not John Wallace. Under
the white marble tablet in the old
Easthampton cemetery sleeps the
scholar the great jurist, the courtly
gentleman, the humble Christian
Sheriff Wa. 4. Hayes, in Harp.
er'S Magazine for august.