Crawfordsville Review, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 28 August 1858 — Page 1

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NEW SERIES--VOL. X, NO. 6.

SCENE IN A JUBYBOOK

A THRILLING STORY.

I once bad tiio extreme felicity of leaving my business to aerve upon "the Jury." I plead in all manner of ways for release, but to effect. I could not swear that I was deaf, nor blind, nor turn compos but did tell them that I had already formed an opinion. They asked me if my opinion would prevent me -from rccoiving the testimony in good faith, and rendering a ver^ diet according to it I replied that of Course I should weigfi the evidence carefully, and be governed by it. I was then informed that I "would do."

The cape to be .tried was one of arson— Aen a capital offense—and the prisoner at the bar was a young man named Charles Ambold, whom I had known from child, hood, and who was naturally one of the finest youths in the town where he residedHe'had a widowed mother, who depended upon him for support and his circle of friends was large and choice. It was morally certain that he did not commit the crime, and hence, I am sure, those who were friendly to him got me upon the panel, and had me retained.

The trial commenced, and wc twelve men took our seats in the jury box. I had a very respectable set with me—only there was one man whom I didn't like to see there. This man was Moulton Warren. Hewas a dark-faced, sinister-looking fellow-—at least to me. I knew that young Ambold had one.fyult. He had recently been addicted to drink, and bad been known to visit disreputable houses.

It was one of those houses thai had been burnt, for setting fire to which he had been apprehended.

Now I had often pursuaded Charles Ambold from the course lie was pursuing.— He had repeatedly promised.me that he would reform,-and" as-repeatedly ho had broken away. I had often talked .to.'him of his poor mother, until lie wept like a child but the effect was not lasting.— There was a power of temptation more offcetivc than I could wield. lie would fall away in this evil nmpanionship, and for awhile his manhood was gone. Ono or two abandoned women had'gained great power over him, and upon them ho had wasted much of his substance.

And I knew that this vpry man who was -now upon the jury—this Moulton Warren —was the one who had done more than all others to lead the poor youth away. It •was Warren who had drank with him, and who had led him away to those abomniable haunts of sin and pollution. Why was lie upon the jury? I could only account for it on the ground that .Charley still supposed him to be his friend. The poor scorched insect, was still ignorant of ths flame that

Hcorchcd him. He really believed that Moulton Warren was his friend. The trial commenced. The indictment set forth that Charles Ambold had, "with malice forethought," anil with an sorts ot wicked and felonious intents, set fire to a certain dwelling-house, thereby endangering human life. This dwelling, as I have before intimated, was a low sink of iniquity, where the abaudoncd of both sexes were wont to congregate and where the youthful prisoner had spent most of his time.

The evidence for the prosecution came till and I was startled. One

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gave in their testimony, some of them very reluctantly, and I was frightened when I saw how plainly it all pointed to the prisoner as the guilty party. Several credible witnesses swore that they had heard him threaten to burn the house down and others had heard him say repeatedly that he wished it was burnt down Then came several witnesses—:three of them prominent citizens—who saw him lurking around about the premises ou the night of the lire.

With regard to the provocation on the prisoner's part for such a deed, it was proved upon his owu admission, that lie had been ill-treated there, and that lie had sworn to have revenge. And, futhormorc, it was proved that he had been heard to say that his salvation of soul and body depended upon the destruction of that house. Next came testimony stronger still..

The fire had been sot in aback basement room, where shavings aud other stuff for kindling were kept. Entrance had been gained through a back window, which had been partly pried open with a stout knife. This basement wall was of brick, and beneath the sash was found the blade of a knife which had been broken off in trying to raise it (the sash.) This blado was recognized as belonging to the prisoncr's knife! A maker of cutlery had made a knife to order for Ambold only a month previous, and he knew the blade and swore to it.

But this was not all. The fire had been evidently set first to tho shavings which lay upon the stone floor, but piled up against a wooden partition.

This floor was damp, and some of the outer shavings, even, were not wholly burnt up. But just at tlic^ edge, where the fire commenced, lay a piece of paper, rolled up, and about half burnt, and from the manner in which it lay, it was very evident that fire had been set with it.— The piece of rolled paper had been ignited by a match, a number of which were scattered' around, and as soon as it was on fire it bad been laid upon the floor, with the burning end just in tbe shavings rniirfiA these shavincs were in a bla

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courBe thesc shavings were in a blaze instantly but the paper torch, being upon the damp stones, had not burnt wholly up.

And this paper was found to be a part of a letter belonging to the prisoner! A letter which he had received from a friend of his (and a friend pf niine) only a week before! This friend had to come forward and swear that that piece of charred paper was a piece of a letter he had written to the prisoner? ThuT friend's name was Stephen"Grant, He was a young- merchant, and the letter had been 'written for the purpose of inducing Ambold to re--form. Stephen tried hard to avoid testifying, for he knew, as did others, that the fire diust have been get with that identical paper 1ut he was summoned, and he could notdeny his own chitography.

The case looked dark. Many witnesses we're frilling to testify,to the prisoner's

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good qualities, but no one could swear that he was not dissipated and degraded.— That house had been to him, indeed, a region infernal. Its destruction cried out for his bodily life, and its existence had long been eating away his soul. Poor Charley! I had before been sure of his innocence,- but now I could only shake my head and pity him.

Finally he was allowed to speak for himself. He Baid he was innocent of the crime imputed upon him. He said that he bad threatened to bum the house down —that he had said all that had been Sworn to. And furthermore, he was around the house on the night of the fire. He was not ten rods off when the flames burst forth, and he was one of the first to give the alarm. He had uttered one cry of fire when he noticed where the flames must have originated and the thought came to him if he were found there, lie might be suspected of having set-the fire so he ran away. He also said that three nights before the conflagration lie had been robbed in that house. His pockcts had been emptied of every thing in them, and his pocket-book containing forty dollars in money, and some valuable papers, had-been taken. He had gone there on the night of the fire to try and persuade them to jgive him back his money and papers—or at least to get back what he could. When he got there, he saw a man go in whom he did not wish to sec, so he had hung around, waiting for him to depart. He was around by the back part of the building once— and that was au hour before the fire broke out. He knew nothing of it—nothing.— lie clasped his hands, and with his tearless eyes raised toward heaven, he called on God to witness, that lie was innocent!

I have told you that I knew him well. I knew him so well, that from that moment I knew him to be innocent! I knew his very soul—I knew how free and open it was—ah how sinfully so!—and I knew that there was no falsehood in the story he had told us. "My boy is innocent! My boy is innocent!"

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I heard the cry—and I saw an old woman sink back into the arms of a male companion. It was his poor mother! her heart was well bt-nlcenYet I saw that all this hail but little effect upon the mass of the spectators. The prisoner's course of dissipation—his many threats against the house —and the very fact of his having been robbed and abused there were heavy against him.

The counsel for the prisoner made his speech, which was labored and hard, lie was foolish enough to intimate that if his client wax around at the back part of the house, lie must have been intoxicated. In short, his pica had better been left out.— The evidence he could not shake, and he did all ho could to suppose evidence, some of it most absurd and ridiculous. I afterward learned that Moulton Warren engaged that lawyer for the youthful prisoner! J.nu i^uvin inin?ni~ntturinJy IlKluc iirw pICU. It was plain, straightforward and very conclusive.

The judge finally gave his charge. lie was fair and candid. He reviewed the evidence carefully, and pointed out such as bore heavily upon the case. He told us if there was a lingering doubt in our minds wc must give the prisoner the benefit of it. Hut I could plainly see there was no doubt in his mind.

We—the jury—were conducted to our room by an officer, and there locked up.— A silence of some minutes ensued. Moulton Warren was the first to speak: "Well," he said, "I s'posc there's no need of our bcin' here a great while. Of course wc all know that the prisoner must have set fire to the house!"

There was something in the manner of that man as he said this which excited my curiosity—I won't say it was suspicion then—jiily curiosity. He spoke with a forced effort at calmness which I at once perceived. The more I looked at him, the more I became strangely nervous and uneasy. I wondered why lie should be so anxious to get rid of the ease, and have Ambold convicted. I knew that he had frequented that evil house, and that he had done much toward tempting Charley to dissipation. I knew he was in that house on the night on which the prisoner was robbed—for Charley had told me so when I visited him iu his cell. I had then asked the unfortuuatc youth, if he was sure Warren was his friend. Oh—he was sure of it. He should have hunted Hm up on the night of his robbery, only they told him Warren had gone.

By the by the foreman proposed that we should each take up a piece of paper and write down our opinion, and then compare notes. I went to my hat which I had placed upon a table with a number of others, and took out a sheet of paper. I had got half way back to the table when I found I had made a mistake. I had got part of a letter from another man's hat. I was about to turn back when the name of the writer of the letter arrested myattention. I looked more closely, and read "Stephen Grant." Next I caught this sentence: "Aud now, dear Charles, if not for your own, yet for your mother's sake, let mo hope you will do better."

I started as'though a shot had struck me. I held in my hand the other half of the sheet which had been used to fire the burnt house! I went to the table and found that I had taken it from Moulton Warren's hat! I looked to see if I had been observed—and I had not. 1 put the paper back, and then took apiece from my own hat, which was of the same pattern as the other, and by its side, vi', .ft

I returned to the table and sat down.— Warren was by my side. He had written his opinion,* and took a knife from his pocket to cot it from the largo sheet. "Let me take your knife a moment,* if you please," I said to him

Without hesitation he did so. I took it —it teas Charles Ambold?s knife!—the large blade was gone! With all the power I possessed I restrained my deep emotions,- and having ent my paper I handed back the knife. -1.

Why should ho have that knife so boldly about him? I afterward learned. He had not worn those pantaloons before since the night of the fire! and now he used the knife probably without -. the least remem­

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brance of the loss it had sustained during a very peculiar picce of work, to the execution of which it was made subservient.

We talked for some ten minutes, and I found that eleven of the jury were bent upon rendering a verdict of guilty, though most of them were in favor of recommending the prisoner to mercy. Moulton Warren was decided. He had no mercy at all

Presently I started up and pretended to be faint. I said I must go out a few moments. I kicked at the door and the deputy sheriff came. He heard my plea and let me out. As soon as we had gained a safe distance I told him all.

He was astonished. He went away, and when he camc back be brought the district attorney and the district judge and the sheriff. I told again what I had seen—I assured them that I knew what I had seen —that it was no mere suspicion. And I explained, too, Warren's manner in the jury room, his former connection with the prisoner, and his known character.

These officers went away and at the end of ten minutes they returned with a constable added to their number, and this constable had a freshly written instrument in his hand.. The sheriff bade me to point out the hat to them as we entered the room.

The door of the room was opened, and I pointed them to the hat. The sheriff took it. and asked whose it was. Warren leaped to his feet and would have seized it, but he was held back. *i .-

Word was instantly sent to the judge that the jury could not agree. They were discharged, and then Moulton Warren was searched. The knife was found upon him, and his behavior at once exposed hi£ guilt. The presence of that letter was accounted for by him in a dozen different ways within an hoitf.

A new jury was inipannelcd, and Clias. Ambold was acquitted. Shortly afterward Warren was tried, and it was plainly proved that he had set fire to the house, and that the woman who kept it was to have been burnt up in it, as he had contrived to lock her into her room shortly before setting the fire. She had incurred his displeasure in various ways, and this was his revenge. Not only she, but two of her girls had suspected him from the first, but tUoy dared not complain for fear lie would not bo convict-oil, and' then lie would be sure to murder them.

The hardened villain confessed his guilt after lie had been condemned, and then it was that lie told how lie happened to be so careless in regard to the paper and kuife. It was lie who had' robbed Ambold, and when he took the old letter from his hat to use for a torch in setting the fire, he did not notice what it was, aud even when that partly burnt half had been exhibited iu court lie had entirely forgotten that he had torn off the other half and put it back in his hat, as he must have done. The letter had been found in Anibold's pocket book and lie had ,kent it.because,in., was warneuto Deware or nis lrnrtlcncc.— He confessed that he held a slight idea of calling the writer to an account when it should become convenient. With regard to the knife, it was as I before stated.— He had taken that also from Anibold's pocket, and put it in his own and on the night of the fire he used it to pry up the sash, and when lie had broken it he put it back in his pocket and forgot it.

Thus was Charley saved and saved from more than an ignominious death, too. lie was saved to be a noble, virtuous man and his mother once more took ample delight and joy in the love and tender care of her only child.

When Charles Ambold learned that Moulton Warren had expiated his crime on the gallows, he sat down and pondered upon his past life. The thought of his old companion being hanged sent a strange thrill through his frame. But he was able to trace out, clearly and logically, this terrible result from the course of life the illfated man had pursued. He shuddered as he remembered how far he had gone in the same course himself and he was able to see the only safe path for any youth.

Not only must he shun temptation—not only keep clcar of even the appearance of vice—but, above all, he must shun evil companionship. A youth may make all the good resolutions thought can afford, but if he continue one evil companionship, he is not safe.

WOLVES IN PENNSYLVANIA.—For some time past a pack of wolves has infested the neighborhood a few miles north ot Ebensbury, Cambria county, Pcnn. They have been amusing themselves by disturbing everybody's slumbers with their howls and attacking everybody's sheep. Considerable damage has been occasioned by their fondness for mutton, and great efforts were unsuccessfully made to capture sonic of them. On Thursday night, Mr. John T. Williams succeeded in catching^ one of the "varmints" in a steel-trap, on his place, four miles) north of the town. He is still alive, and is represented as "being an "old soger," of fine proportions. Andrew Danmire, residing pa the Pittsburg pike, some four or five miles, west of Ebcnsburg, had a large number-of sheep killed by wolves a few nights since.

THE TELEGRAPH AND THE BIBLE "Canst thou send the lightnings, that they may go and say unto thee, Here we are?" "Who hath divided the water coursc for a way for the lightning?',' "The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of the sea." "He made a decree for the rain, and a way for the lightning." "He directeth his lightnings unto the ends of the earth." "The lightning cometh out of the East, and shincth even unto the West." "His lightnings enlighten the world."

J®*It is a most singular, coincidence that Cherbourg was taken on August 5, 1758, by an English fleet commanded by Lord Howe, and uow on August 6th,

1858,

an English fleet, with a grandson of Lord Howe (Admiral Freeman tie) as* second in command, will bring the Qdeen of England to Cherbourg to dine with the Emperor of'tlrt French in the harbor:

CEAWFOEDSYILLE, MONTGOMERY- COUNTY, "INDIANA, AUGUST 28,. 1858.

MORMO* SCENES.

The army correspondent of the New York Times, writing on the 16th of July, from camp, near Salt Lake, gave the following graphic description of some of the sights which passed before him:

The refugees returning from the southern settlements continue to line the road with their trains of wagons, herds and flocks. Some of these trains present scenes by no means pleasant to the eye.— Here we see a young girl of eighteen, with bare feet Jind a half clad form, driving a yoke of oxen and there, a tender little girl of scarcely eight years of age, whipping up two or three obstreperous pigs, dragging her little feet wearily and painfully" over the sharp gravel road. The wagons are usually piled up with the commonest furniture, with a chicken-coop and its crackling occupants strapped upon the rear. Sometimes the pig occupies this post, and the chickens are.packed inside the vehicle with the. children'. But everywhere poverty—poverty—squalid poverty —meet us, turn as we will: Spend half an hour in a merchant's store, and we see old women and. young girl,s, iri plentiful numbers, approaching, with a few new potatoes, a dozen eggs, a handful of onions, a pound or two of butter, which they—half hopingly and half doubtingly—offer in barter for some trifle of goods—a yard of cotton or calico, or a little thread—casting their eyes wistfully, the while, over, the well-filled shelves of goods, of which they are so much in need. The people have been warned not to trade with the Gentiles, but the cases are sd'numerous in which the law Of*' necessity is stronger than the law of the church that the merchants are driving a brisk trade, sending,their barter supply of provisions to the camp, where they find ready sale.

A MORMON MARKET-IIOL^E

A market-place has been erected the rear of the camp, where the Saints may bring their notions and sell them under the protection of a guard. Milk, buttermilk, butter, eggs, cheese, onions and potatoes are the staples—milk at twenty-five cents per quart, batter sixty cents per pound, eggs sixty cents per dozen, cheese fifty cents per pound, onions twenty-five cents a small bunch, old potatoes two dollars, and new four dollars per bushel are the usual

SALT LAKE CITY.' 4

Notwithstanding the people in this city have quite settled down in their homes again, we had no public service last Sabbath, and it is said there is to bo no public assemblage of the people again until winter. Tho church leaders, however, are almost constantly in council. Brigham remains constantly .confined to liis house, and has not been seen out of doors since his arrival in this city. All the gates in the walls which surround his block arc locked and barred, except the one directly in

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guard of live men is stationed continually, and no one is admitted, even within the outer gate, until his name has been sent in.- and Brisdiam' has consented to see him.

TIIE CABLE IN ENGLAND. The news of tho arrival of the Agamemnon in Yalentia Bay, and the successful laying of the Cable, was received in England with deep interest, though it docs not seem to have given rise to the extravagant demonstrations wc have had in this country. The stock which had been sold after the attempt in June for J£300 per share, (of £1,000,) immediately advanced to JC880, and from that to £920.

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We take the following extract from the leading article in the London Times Since the discovery of Columbus, nothing has been done in any degree comparable to the vast enlargement which has thus been given to the sphere of-human activity.

We see with not unnatural satisfaction that the advantage ofiiw»-discovery will be the greatest to those countries the possession of which are the most remote, and therefore, that ^England has more to gain than any of her rivals. The Admirality will know, to within a few miles, the position of every ship in her Majesty's service. The intelligence of a Caffre war or an Indian mutiny will reach us before the first blood that has been shed is cold, and we shall be able to economise the whole time consumed by the ordinary vehicle of intelligence, .^l** I-

More was done yesterday for the consolidation of our Empire, than the wisdom of our statesman, the liberality of our legislature, the loyalty of our colonist could ever have effected. Distance between Canada aud England is annihilated. For the purposes of mutual communication and of good/ understanding, the Atlantic is dried up, and wc become in reality, as well as in wish, one country. Nor can any one regatd with indifference the position in which the Atlantic Telegraph has placed us in regard to the great American Republic. It-has half undone the Declaration of 1775', and gone far to make us once again, in spite of ourselves, one people.

THE TERMINUS or THE ATLANTIC CABLE AND SURROUNDING SCENERY.—All who have visited Trinity Bay, New Foundland with, one consent allow it to be one of the most beautiful sheets of water they ever set eyes upon. Its color is very peculiar —an inexpressible mingling of the pure blue ocean vyitli the deep evergreen woodlands, and the serene blue sky. Its extreme length is about eighty miles its breadth about thirty miles, opening boldly into the Atlantic Vn Ite Northern side pf the island. At its southwestern shore it branches into* the Bay of Bull's Arm, which is a quiet, safe and beautiful harbor, about two miles in. breadth, and nine or ten in length, running in a direction North.-, west. The depth of water is sufficient for"

the largest vessels: The tide rises fj&!ycn or eight feet, and the bay terminates lit a beautiful sand beach. The.shore is clothed with dark green fir-trees, which mixed with the birch and mountain ash, present a pleasing contrast: ........

LANDING OF THE CABLE. At ten minutes past two o'clock on the morning of Friday, August 4th, the Niagara having arrived in Trinity Bay, preparations were made for landing the cable.— Three of the Niagara's boats were lowered, two to hold or buoy up the cable at some distance from the stern of the vessel, while the third received sufficient length to reach the telegraph station, which was about half a mile from the shore. Over a mile and a half was lowered and coilcd in tho boat, and by sunrise everything was ready for the completion of the work. DESCRIPTION OF THE HEAD OF TRINITY BAY.

The Bay of Bulls Arm is an inlet of the sea at the head of Trinity Bay, from which it runs, between a range, of irregular hills, a distance of about ten miles. Some of these hills, rise to the dignity of mountains, which are in many places wooded down to the water's edge. The inhospitable nature of the climate, combined with the barren and rocky soil, is rather unfavorable to vegetation, and the forests are composed mainly of a stunted variety of pine, which seldom attains a height of more than thirty feet while the turf, which in some places covers the rocks to the depth of three or four feet, is overspread with a thick growth of moss. The streams, which during the summer season become mere rivulets, are converted into foaming torrents by the freshets which follow the breaking up of the long and dreary winter. Judging from the hilly and mountainous character of this part of the country, and, indeed, of the whole island, the construction and establishment of railroads in the far distant future must prove a terribly expensive affair. The landing place for the cable is a very picturesque little beach, on which a wharf has been constructed. A road, about the dimensions of a bridle path, has been cut through the forest, and up this road through bog and mire, you find your way to. the telegraph station, about half a mile distant. Alongside of this road a trench has been dug for the cable, to preserve it from accidents, to which it might otherwise be liable.

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CARRYING THE CABLE UP TO TIIE STATION. When the boats arrived at the landing the officers and men jumped ashore, and Mr. North, First Lieutenant of the Niagara, presented Captain Hudson with the end of the cable. Captain Otter, of the Porcupine, and Commander Dayman, of the Gorgon, now took hold of it, and all the officers and men following their example, a procession was formed aloug the line. As the cable was covered with tar, the handling of it was rather objectionable, but there were none who, under the circumstances, refused to take part in the landing. There were some, it is true, who would not at first put their bare hands to it, and who sought to protcct them with gloves or by covering the cable with moss. This movement, however, was rather unpopular so _thojrlo_vc^w_ere_ taken oflj and cable, there was little of it used afterwards.. The road or path over which we had to take the cable was a most primitive affair. It led up the side of a hill a couple of hundred feet high, and had been cut out of the thick forest of pines and other evergreens. In some places the turf, which is to be found here on the top of the highest mountains, was so soft with recent rains that you would sink to your ankles in it.

Up this road we had to march with the cable. It was but reasonable to suppose that the three captains, who headed the procession, would certainly pick out the best parts, aud give us the advantage of the stepping stones, but it appeared all the same to them, and they plunged into the boggiest and dirtiest parts with a recklessness and indifference that satisfied us they were about the worst pilots we could have had on land, despite their well-known abilities as navigators. This procession started at a quarter to six o'clock, and arrived at the telegraph station about twenty minutes after.

Arrived at the top of the hill, the scene presented was one of unrivalled wildness. On every side an unbroken wilderness, and if we except the telegraph station, not a single habitation to tell that man has ever lived here.

TIIE STATION.

The station is a large frame building, two. stories high, having eight windows on a.side. Ou the first floor is a kitchen, au office and a sitting apartment, dignified with the title of parlor. The door opens on the side of the house, and there is no means of exit from the front, for the simple reason that the first story is eight or ten feet from the ground. This singular arrangement is explained by the fact that the building is situated on- the side of a hill, and that there is a considerable difference between the height of the front and back walls. The second story is divided into sleeping apartments, separated by a pcr'LipsTt"may' in or id or an he a is

nient will lodge about a dozen persons.—

A beginning has been made iu the clearing away, of the forest in the immediate vicinity of the house, and in the coursc of a year they will have as pleasautand comfortable a dwelling perhaps as any in Newfoundland, if it should not have all the luxuries of civilized life/

TIIE LAST ACT.

On tho arrival of the procession the cable is brought up to the house, and tho end placed in connection with the instrument. The deflection of the needle on the galvanometer, gave incontrovertible evidence that the electrical condition of the cable was satisfactory. 1.

The continuity, without which the cable would be utterly valueless, is perfect. Mr. D. Laws and Mr. De Santy, the two chief electricians, who accompanied the expedition from England, "tasted" the current, and about a dozen others at the head of the procession did the same thing. Some received a pretty strong shock—so strong that they willingly resigned the chance of repeating the experiment.

l@"We are pleased to learn that the new managers of the New Albany & Salem Railroad have determined to rebuild the machine shops here. The rubbish is being cleared away from the.ruins of the old machine shops,preparatory to the immediate erection oft]a§ new buildings.

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fFrom the Montreal Transci ipt, August 11.] THE VICTORIA BRIDGE. The work for the construction of this noble edifice is now rapidly proceeding, and we had an opportunity a few days ago of examining not only the completed parts of the structure, but also the operations which are taking place on the dams and piers which are not j'et finished. We first proceeded over the abutment ou the north shore to the tubes which are already placed across the two first spans of the bridge. The work of the riveting of the plates was going on, and the structure rang with the clanger of hammers forming the heads of the bolts. A large number of portable forges were stationed iu all parts of the tube and on the top of it, and rivets heated in the fires were supplied to the workmen by boys attending 011 each forgs. It is interesting to see the speed with which iron—a material hardly known a few years ago in the arts of construction—can be formed into edificcs adapted to the purpose of man. This speed is much faciliated by the circumstance that all tho parts of the tubes arc multiplication of the same patterns. The bridge will consist of twenty-four piers, with twenty-five openings or spans—the center about half as large again as the others. These openings are covered by a tube, or rather by a scries of tubes of boiler-plate, separated from each other at the ends, and strengthened by angle-iron. An article like this is not the place for an account of the reasons which make the tubular form of materials stronger than any other arrangement of them but we may remark that if the four plates which form the four sides of the tube were laid one upon the other the thickness of the whole would not exceed about two aud a half inches, and would not support a fiftieth part of the load which may be safely carried over the tubes. It needs 110 engineering nor mechanical knowledge to be able to understand that hardly any accumulated thickness of such a material laid in a- fiat shape over an opening between two and three hundred feet wide Would support the hundreds of tuns weight which made up bjr the component parts of a railroad train resting on the middle of it. ,«,

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The plates throughout the tubes are double bolted to angle iron bpams and girders, and always overlapping each other at the ends. For further security each joint has placed over it, on each side of the joint, and called a covering plate.— The object of all these precautions is to make the tubes resemble as much as possible similar tubes made of one piece of metal.

Many very delicate considerations have to be attended by the engineer who adopts this tubular mode of construction, in order to give his roadway the greatest strength, with the least weight and cost. The condition upon which the attainment of this end depends is, that the relative strain KnOwrf," "ind tile strength of the'metal'at that place proportioned to the stress. It is impossible here to give au idea of the data upon which these calculations arc made.. The result, however, is that the hardest duty must be done by the metal situated at the ends of the tubes, and accordingly this part is strengthened by a considerable addition to the ordinary number of transverse supports of angle iron. As to the plates themselves, the same kind of calculations have determined that those in the bottom and top of the tube should be thinnest at the end and thickest in the middle of the length, while this order is reversed at the sides, and the greatest thickness of plate is used at the ends.— The sentences immediately foregoing will prepare the reader for the information that every sheet of iron, and every angle iron upright or girder has its place in the edifice marked with the greatest accuracy before it is shipped at Liverpool, and that, upon arriving on the bank of the St. Lawrence, it must not vary half an inch from the position for which it was destined.

But, perhaps, it will excite wonder at the

immense forethought, labor and attention

"eh arc necessary for such

ii-bcforc-hand adjustment,

perfect and longwhen wc state

that it is necessary to dc-

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house, and never putting one in the wrong place. The rivets used in each tubeamount in number to 80,000 or to more than 2,000,000 in the entire structure, aud, reckoning the heads as separate pieces of iron, wc shall have more than 7,000,000 distinct pieces of metal put together to form the tubular roadway.

The expansion and contraction of metal is another circumstance requiring the attention of the architect in iron. Every one is of course aware of this phenomenon be a 110

noised so

a a

a

structure,poised so hiirli

jr

a

^ov

the St. Lawrence, and ap-j

parently so firmly fixed, is yet going through constant and not inconsiderable changes of dimensions and of form, and

111 order to allow the tube to stretch itselt

on its bed, as our readers accustomed to do on theirs. phenomena of expansion in these tubes are two.

the upper than of the upper plates, aud certain flexture of the tube. Such changes, if operating on a mass of iron about two miles long, would be, of course, very difficult to manage. The mode, of providing against its inconveniences, therefore, is to divide the whole length of the roadway into thirteen tubes—one over the large central arch 330 feet long, and six on each side of it, each formed of two tubes, and each covering two of the smaller openings or spans of 220 feet. Tbe two tubes thus made into one, therefore,

WHOLE NUMBER 846.

rest upon three piers across one and resting by the two ends on two others. The united tube is firmly bolted down to the pier, which supports it in the middle but the ends rest upon rollers, so that when they arc prolonged by expansion the movement takes place without any resistance.— The ends of the tubes at the piers where they rest on the rollers, are, of course, not in contact. There is a space of about a foot between them for any play arising from the cause already described.

The weight of the iron in the tube, over each of the smaller openings, is three hundred tuns, and over the larger one nine hundred tuns. Thus the weight of iron in the bridge will be about eighty-one thousand tuns.

The progress made in laying the tubes this year has bceu considerable. Four spans are already covered—two on each side—and from this time to the end of the working seasou, it is expected that two or more will be completed each fortnight, making twelve before the setting in of the winter. The setting in of the severo seasou of our Canadian year will of course retard such a work, but will not entirely stop it, and tube-laying will be continued in spite of frost, and wind, and rain, and snow. Before leaving the tubes wo saw a steam riveting-machine, whi^h, though it cannot accomplish all the work in that line, owing to the difficulty in moving it, fastens a great many plates before they are put up in their places. It consists of a large steam cylinder, having a piston, ou the projecting end of which are a number of dies in the shapes of rivet-heads. The plates, with the rivet placed in the proper holes, being then presented to these dies, the steam is allowed to enter the cylinder, and at once forces the dies against tho rivet till they are pushed through the holes and clinched.

Descending from the upper works of the bridge, we next took boat for tho piers. Of these tlicy arc seven completed 011 each side two are rapidly approaching completion, aud two arc just 011 the point of being begun. It is expected that, unless some unforseen event takes place, all the piers but one will be finished during the present year, or at least- advanced so far as to permit of the work proceeding during the winter. At piers Nos. 10 and 17 we witnessed all the processes employed, from the commencement of the day to the laying of the masonry. Of course the first thing to be done is to make a puddled dam round the placc intended for the foundation of the pier, from the interior of which the water is to be pumped out, °o that the masons may proceed with the foundations. The making and maintenance of the dam is, therefore, the chief difficulty of the engineer. The pile's aro. driven into the ordinary bottom of tho river but the foundation of the stoneWork is several feet below, and the eonse-. queiico is that the excavation required ofand breaches constantly occur—all tho more easily for the great depth and rapidity of the current.

a f(junt

,l0IWCVCI.f

5(

In order to lessen as much as possible the risks of these causualities, the line of bottom on which the dam is placcd is rendered as even as possible by working a gravel scoop. This machine, however, constantly comes in contact with bowlders and stones of various dimensions, and these have to be raised. For this purpose a diver is always employed, who descends upon the rock to be lifted, and holds the ram by which a hole for the "lewis" is made." This effected, tho impediment is raised by a crane. These stones arc of very different geological formations, and have evidently traveled very far from their present site, on the icy embarkations by which they were first lifted from their original (what was their original) resting placc. Wc saw one of twenty tuns weight, which had been brought up from as many feet below the surface of the river. Occasionally the break in the dam exhibits freaks. The water will sometimes

,lin

ia tho ccutcr of tho

lli irke( out

for the foundation and

wi]1 rc ])uurK

find the whcncc

cncm

it has entered, to be traced,

has

the construction of works subject to so inanv accidents as piers built within dams. Hence, the workmen are employed in gangs night and day, the light being afforded by a lamp with an immense reflector.

The stones for the piers have been supplied from the quarries belonging to tho Grand Trunk Company at Point Clairo and from another quarry on the Kichelieu. The stone from the latter is brought down bv the St. Lawrence aud Champlain

1 way. We have to thank 31 r. Ifodges, the. liis phenomenon ,V 1 «-nrk-i for

vol reflection toi^'ief Hupenutcndent

hiirl, 1

contractors, and

Aikiuan,

that instead 01 its parts being rigidly tas-j tened to their places, the metallic roadway 1 is in fact disengaged from the stone piers „tiug

fo'r

(n fm^h the en

doubtless 1 P*

....

:0f

|„. 18o'.,

ie pnnupa rCCtecf perhaps the most

The first chiefly !cimen

The

first

in the length, which varies in a summer day some inch and a half for each tube and between 1

tho

thL, Mr

h.s

able

ttonan Mr

the kinJncw with which they

afforded us all the explanations neccssary to enable us to underhand the works which They are entitled to he it

on

4 1 1

the HHCCCS

they have begun and prosecuted their arduous labors, in a climate and on a river difficulties. They exentire work with the end

H0 in

.iuy

and they will then have'

r(

of

world has vet seen.

covering a single opening, and between WTA thunder storm visited Jolief, Illivaries about three and nois, and vicinity lately, which struck the other is a change in house of Mr. Powell, in the township of

summer and winter a half inches.- The form arising from the fact that the upper flavor of the tube is exposed to the sun's rays, while the lower one is in the shade

.markal,lc npe-

Pontiuc architecture .which the

Washington, instantly killing Mrs. P. and|

so scverciv injuring sc\eral others of tho familv that their lives are despaired of.—

Tlie consequence is greater lengthening of The clothing of the children were set on aiic cou t- hiageho id

s0

stunned as to be

unable to put out the fire until the children were severely burnt. Tho lightuing struck in at least twenty places in Joliet, killing cows and other auiuials. Ouchorse was knocked down repeatedly, wheu the discovery was made that a wire depended from a telegrnph pole to within a few inches of his head, thus giving the horse a series of electrical shocks. Horses and mules on the tow-path were so frightened that a number jumped into tbe river and went over the data. '?.•"'