Wednesday morning, April 6, 1864

Page 2 Col. #1


"The leading journals of the country are discussing the propriety of an organized movement in favor of increased emigration from Europe. The number of uneducated and unskilled laborers now emigrating is probably sufficiently large. But we need more mechanics and artisans. This class of workingmen, though suffering greatly at home, are deterred from emigrating to this country by the gross misrepresentations of our enemies abroad. It is manifestly the interest of Secessionist and their sympathizers to prevent, as far possible, an increase of the producing population of the Northern States. In putting forth statements to prevent emigration, our enemies can most easily reach and influence the better class of European laborers--those who think and read. Thus the very men whose services we most need, and who would be best remunerated for their labor, are kept away from us. It is believed that there might be either a governmental or private organization sufficiently large and powerful, if under the control of men of character and means, to fully counteract the influence of the anti-American press, and secure a vast increased emigration of skillful and enterprising workmen from different European countries. Such an organization, employing energetic and able men as agents, could do much toward supplying our country with the labor that is necessary to develop our resources and insure our future prosperity."


--"The Chicago Times and State Register, in their first account of the riot at Charleston, Ill., assert that Mr. Eden, the Copperhead Representative in Congress from the 7th Congressional District, who was in Charleston at the beginning of the riot, was arrested by Col. Mitchell and confined in the court house. We learn, upon reliable authority, that Mr. Eden was not molested, buy, forgetful of his pledges to stand by his copperhead 'friends', as soon as the affair began, left town, on foot, in company with a friend, and so far as we have learned, neither have been heard from since. We find the following paragraph in an extra from the office of the Charleston Plaindealer: 'Col. Mitchell offers a reward of one big Red Cent for the arrest and delivery of Hon. John. R. Eden, M. C. and John Schofield, of Marshall. When last seen they were breaking for the brush.'

--"The Richmond, or Merrimac No. 2, is the vessel hourly expected to make her debut in Hampton Roads. A gentleman who came from there a short time ago, says she is a very formidable vessel, constructed with much skill. When her woodwork was finished, she was taken across the river to the Tredegar works to have her plating put on. The plates are about ten feet long, and ten inches in width. They are punched entirely through with holes for the insertion of the bolts, and overlap one another when in position. Like Merrimac No. 1, she is a formidable ram, but is somewhat smaller than the great original, which in every other respect she greatly resembles. Her roof runs up to a peak of such a height that the sides rise at a sharp angle. When ready for action her guards will probably not be over one foot above the water. Being much smaller she will be far more manageable than Merrimac the first. Her ports were about six feet above the water's edge. The ram is well beaked, reaching about four feet above the deck; and extending out six or eight feet, and some eight feet under the water line.'

--"C. Worrell, of Joliet, Ill., started from Rochester, New York, the other day, with three thousand dollars in bank notes in a bag suspended in a belt around his body. While en route for Cincinnati a fellow passenger called his attention to the fact that he was losing bank notes from the legs of his pantaloons, and an investigation revealed the loss of all his money buy three hundred dollars, and the bottom of the bag having been given out. He returned to Rochester, but could not find any of his lost bills, which he now thinks he saw blowing about the railroad depot before he started."

Page 2 Col. #2

By T. S. Arthur

   'They'll never come up?' said the voice of a child. It was fretful and impatient. They've been planted three days. I knew they wouldn't grow.'
   The little boy who thus complained was standing over a bed in the garden, where he had some flower seeds. He had been there two or three times every day since the seeds were planted, hoping to see their first green shoots piercing the earth. Impatience could wait no longer. And now he commenced digging down to see if the seed had sprouted. Two or three were turned up, each with the small white germ breaking through the horny covering. He tried to put them back; but, in doing so, broke off the tender germs.
   'What are you doing? cried the child's mother, who came down one of the garden walks just at this time, and saw him uncovering the seeds which she had instructed him how to sow. There was a tone of anger in her voice. The child started; then frowned and pouted his lips. 'I knew they wouldn't come up,' he said. 'What are you doing?' The mother repeated her question sharply. Then seeing what had been done, she let angry feelings have vent.
   'You're a naughty, impatient child!' she exclaimed: 'Seeds do not come up in a night! Why couldn't you wait? Just see what you've done! There!--that seed has sprouted; and now it's good for nothing. You've ruined your garden. You're the silliest child I ever knew, and I am out of all patience with you.'
   What answer did the child make.
   'I don't care!' And he ran on to the flower bed, and trampled it with his feet. Blind passion was, for the time, his master.
   The mother, stronger, but scarcely wiser than her child, caught him by the arm and almost dragged him into the house.
   'You naughty, naughty boy,' she said, 'I'll punish you for this.' And she put him into a room by himself, telling him that he should stay there alone until evening.
   A friend, walking in the garden at the time, saw what passed between the child and his mother.
   'Unwise, unwise,' she said to herself. What an opportunity for a lesson that her boy might never have forgotten!-but failing to improve the occasion, she has hurt instead of teaching him.'
   Soon after, the boy's mother and her friend were sitting together.
   'Where is Harry?' asked the latter.
   'I've sent him to his room,' replied the mother.
   'As punishment?'
   'What has he been doing?'
   'Giving way to that passionate temper, which will, if not restrained, bring him one day into serious trouble.'
   And then she related the incident about the flower-seeds.
   'We do not become very much wiser as we grow older,' remarked the friend; 'only our imperfect hands dig up the seed of higher things before they have time to germinate.'
   'I can remember,' answered the mother, half-smiling, half-serious, 'doing the same thing when a child--digging up seed I had planted, to see if they were beginning to grow. I ought not to be severe with Harry; but then his impatient spirit must be checked, or it will rule him to his injury when he becomes a man. it was not because he dug up the seed, but because he trampled on his flower-bed, that I punished him.'
   'And are you wiser now that when you were a child?' asked the friend. 'Are you not doing the same things to-day, only in a higher region of life?'
   'Digging up the good seeds you have planted in your child and impatiently trampling on the flower-beds of his soul.'
   'Is that so? Are you earnest?' The mother's face grew very serious.
   'May I talk plainly? Won't you be hurt or offended?'
   'With you I can never be offended. I know your heart,' said the mother.
   'I have been with you for a month.' 'And a pleasant month it has been, my friend--pleasant and also profitable. You have helped me to perceive many things not perceived by my dull eyes before. You have strengthened my weak hands; you have confirmed my failing purposes. Your visit has done me good. And now, say on.'
   'How many times, in that month, have I seen you repeat the incident of to-day.'
   'What incident?'
   'That of digging down, impatiently, into your child's mind, to see if the seeds you had planted were beginning to sprout.'
   'Have I been so blind?' she asked.
   'So it has seemed to me.'
   'Will you come down to the particulars? Then I can understand you better. Don't be afraid of hurting me. I love my boy. I wish to be a true mother. I feel, more deeply than I can express, my inability to guide him aright. He is wayward, impatient and passionate, and do which I will, I fail to weaken these dangerous tendencies of his soul.'
   'It is because you do not see clearly. Unless there be a clear sight, how can there be a sure hand?'
   'Help me to a clearer sight, my friend,' said the mother. 'Lift the scales from my eyes. Show me the true way.'
   'I read to-day in this book,' answered the friend, lifting a small volume, entitled, 'Thoughts in My Garden. 'a passage that seems as if written just for your case. Will you have it?'
   'O yes. I am searching for light.' And the friend read:
   'When a child begins gardening, he is so impatient to see the result of his work, that he is almost sure to dig up his seeds in order to find if they are sprouting. The parent looks on and perhaps smiles complacently at the child's folly, bidding him be patient for a few days till the little plants have time to show themselves. Yet it is quite probably that the very parent treats the seeds of thought he sows in the mind of the child with an impatience just as foolish as that of the child over his flower seeds. He tells him a truth and expects it to spring up and bear fruit as soon as it is sown. He looks to reap the harvest in the character of his child before the seed time is over. He probes his child's heart with questions to find out if the truth he sows is germinating before the warmth of the Divine Love has had opportunity to expand the germ and quicken it into life. He will not wait for the gradual way in which Divine Providence through ministry of circumstance, quickens the spiritual nature of the child; and then by the rain of His truth and the sunshine of His love causes the seeds sown, it may be, years before, and lying till then darkly and inert, to take root and grow, and bear fruit many fold.'
   There is a 'time to plant,' said the friend, as she closed the book; 'a time in which the seed must lie passive in the earth, hidden from sight, while germination takes place; a time for the spring blade--for the opening flower--for the ripening fruit and grain. For all the process we must wait. If we look for the shooting blade before the period of germination is over, we shall be disappointed--if for ripe fruit in the spring time of growth and development, our disappointment will be none the less sure.'
   The mother did not answer; but sat, with eyes cast down, lost in thought. A veil had dropped from her eyes, and now she saw things clearly that were hidden before; saw how, in her ignorance and impatience, she had been perpetually disturbing the earth of her child's mind, and hindering the growth of the good seeds she had planted there. After a few moments, she got up and left the room, without speaking. Shutting the door after her, as she went out, she ran quickly to the chamber in which she had shut up her boy, and went in upon him so suddenly, that he had no warning of her approach. She found him sitting on the floor, amid the contents of a toilette case, which she had received only a week before as a birth-day gift from her husband. Scent bottles, sachets, perfumed soaps, hand mirrors, and all the elegant etceteras of a lady's dressing box, lay in disorder around him.
   A pulse of anger sent the blood leaping along the mother's veins; her eyes flashed an indignant light; fierce words were on her lips; her hands shut in convulsive grip. The child looked up with a frightened aspect. What a moment of trial and peril! In the pause, a voice seemed to say, 'Beware!'
   'What is Harry doing?' she asked, in a tone of gentle inquiry, as she sat down on the floor beside her child, and looked on him with motherly tenderness in her eyes.
   Wonder to the place of fear in the child's countenance.
   'I'll put them all back again,' he said, in a penitent voice, turning to the articles scattered around him on the floor, and commencing to gather them up. 'There isn't anything broken mamma.'
   The mother had to retain herself. She would have stayed the child's hand. But, by help of the new light that had streamed into her mind, she saw that in doing so there was danger of hurting something of a far more value than a perfumed bottle, or a mirror not two inches in diameter. He had committed an error that he was anxious to repair. He was trying to put himself right with his mother by undoing a wrong.
   'I was a naughty boy, and I'm so sorry,' he said, pausing in his work to look up at his mother, and read her state of feeling in her eyes.
   'It was a birth-day present,' answered the mother. 'Father gave it to me.' Her tones were serious, but not rebuking. 'I should have been so grieved if any thing had been broken.'
   'But there isn't anything broken, mamma--not the least bit of a thing.
   Oh!' An ejaculation of pain closed the sentence, as a small Bohemian glass bottle dropped from his hands and broke into fragments. His face grew instantly pale--his lips quivered--he lifted his eyes with a pleading look of fear and suffering. The mother had to guard herself. She, as well as her boy, was passing through discipline.
   'Oh, mamma,' cried out the child, in the overpowering grief of his little heart; and he hid his face among her garments and sobbed wildly.
   The mother's heart had become very tender during the progress of the scene. How could she help putting her arms around her grieving boy and weeping with him and comforting him?
   'Don't cry about it, darling,' she said, with lips against his cheeks. 'You didn't mean to do it; and I can buy another bottle. If you wont touch my toilette case again----'
   'Oh, I'll never touch it again!' he answered eagerly. 'I'm so sorry and I'm sorry I dug up the seeds, mamma. It seemed so long. And I was sure they'd never come up. Oh, mamma! If you hadn't scolded me--if you'd said, as Miss Wilson did yesterday, 'wait just a little longer, Harry, and you'll see them shooting up, I wouldn't have been so naughty.'
   The mother caught her breath and swallowed two or three times; then laid her hot cheek down among the golden curls of her boy, and held him tightly against her heart.
   'Only be patient,' said her friend, as they sat together not long afterward--'The ground of a child's mind is good ground. if you fill it with good seeds and let them lie there undisturbed by impatience or passion, they will surely germinate and grow. it is not because the ground is bad, but because it is so often dug over and trampled upon, that so little greeness--so little of bud blossom--appear in the lives of children. Some seeds take the quickening impulse of nature in a few days, while others lie in the ground as if there were no center of vitality in them for months. The wise gardener takes note of this difference and waits the appointed time with unwavering confidence. We should be as wise as he in our human gardens; nay wiser, for the flowers that bloom and the fruits that grow in them are far more precious.'

Page 2 Col. #4

"THE PRESIDENT'S 'PLEDGE'--It has been stated in many quarters that Mr. Lincoln, in his inaugural address, pledged himself to one term only; and one of the orators at the Meeting of Gen. Freemont's friends, said that the President ought to understand that his pledge would be rigidly exacted of him. But it is a curious and interesting fact that Mr. Lincoln made no such pledge in his inaugural speech. He alluded to the fact but twice.

Speaking of his predecessors and their administration of the Government he said: "I now enter upon the same task, for the brief constitutional term of four years, under great and peculiar difficulties.'

And toward the close of the address he said that the people had given their public servants but little power for mischief, and had with equal wisdom 'provided for the return of that little to their own hands at very short intervals;' and that while the people retain their virtue and vigilance no Administration 'can very seriously injure the Government in the short space of four years.'

This is all Mr. Lincoln said in his inaugural address in regard to the term of the Presidency. How is it possible to torture form such words a 'pledge' to serve one term only? And what is meant by 'rigidly exacting' the performance of his pledge?" ---Harper's Weekly

Page 2 Col. #5
APRIL 5, 1864

LIST OF LETTERS Remaining in the
Post Office in Galena, April 5, 1864


ARNOLD, Heinrich LIDDLE, Joseph
ALLEN, W. J. LANE, George
BEZZANS, Thomas LUCIS, Francis
BOUNDS, Kinsley LEHEE, Jerry
BAITTE, Henry MURRAY, Thomas
BOTHE, Augustus MARTIN, Philip
BEAN, Andrew McGOVERN, John
CLARK, E. C. MACK, Calvin
CASTILLO, Ferdinand MILLER, Jacob
CABINIS, John A. OLAS, Henry P.
DININGER, William RICE, Henry A.
DECK, Peter SIDNER, William
DUNCAN, Michael STEEL, Robert
DODGE, Joesph Toby SULLIVAN, James
GLASGOW, James G. SCHULER, Charles
GOURD, James H. STOCKEL, Barnard
ISBELL, E. T. WALSCH, Bartholomew
JACKSON, James H. WHITE, Henry
KELLEY, Cornelius WHITE, George--3
KING, A. B. WARNER, Daniel S.


BUSHNELL, Miss Sarah FLOYD, Mrs. Ann
BILLINGS, Mrs. Mary A. GRANGE, Miss Mary
BAILEY, Miss E. A. GOGEL, Miss Caroline
CHAPIN, Mrs. Clarissa LEONARD, Mrs.
CONKLIN, Miss Emma MURRAY, Miss Mary
CLOCK, Mrs. L. M. McCARVY, Miss Ellen
DUFFEY, Miss Nellie McCARTHY, Miss Eliza
DRINNEN, Miss Mary J . PENN, Mrs. Mary Jane
DAURTHY, Miss Ellen POOLEY, Grace Jane
EUSTICE, Miss Elizabeth ROGERS, Mrs. Eliza--2
FELTHOUR, Miss Lena RONTZONG, Mrs. Mattie
FARR, Miss Lizzie SWEENEY, Catharine
FITZPATRICK, Miss Elizabeth J. SCOTT, Miss Sarah
FLYNN, Mrs. WHITE, Miss Eliza J.


Page 3 Col. #2


"The Good Templars of Lodge No. 226 will celebrate its first anniversary on Monday, April 11,th, A. D. 1864, at the Methodist E. Church of Elizabeth. Able speakers will be present. The public are invited to attend. By order of the Committee"


"We take pleasure in announcing that S. T. NAPPER, of Scales Mound, was re-elected Supervisor yesterday by a handsome majority. Mr. Napper is a true patriot and a valuable member of the Board. A Union member is also elected from Apple River."


"The following are the Supervisors elected yesterday in East and West Galena, and in the city of Galena:

1st Ward--Peter DUFFY, Dem.
2d Ward--H. MARFIELD, Dem.
3d Ward--John HEINLEIN, Union
4th Ward--M. STROTT, Union
5th Ward--A. F. LUNING, Dem.
Total, 4 Union and 5 Democrats. The same towns and wards elected last year 8 Democrats and 1 Union.
The Union men of East Galena elect their whole Township ticket--Democratic last year.
West Galena Democratic. Same last year.
From the returns thus far received we judge that the 28 members of the next Board of Supervisors will be composed of 20 Union men and 8 Cops. Our word for it, it will not vary from these figures more than one either way."