Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 January 1876 — The Blood Bath. [ARTICLE]

The Blood Bath.

About a year ago a curious thing happened here,” yesterday remarked a robust and rosy-cheeked butcher whom we had been complimenting on his fresh and hfealthy appearance. “ I know,” continued our butcher a rule, men engaged in my business enjoy good health and have a fresh, rosy look; but whether dabbling in blood and breathing and absorbing the fumes and vapors arising from fresh meats-has anything to do with this, as you appear to believe, I cannot say - neither have I ever seen any blood-drinking, either by butchers or others. But, as I have said, a very curious circumstance occurred here about a year ago. I generally work in the market —so 1 must get my red cheeks through what I absorb from the meats I handle — but about a year ago one of our butchers took sick and I filled his place in the slaughter-house for about six weeks. I had not been in the slaughterhouse long until one afternoon, about two o’clock —our time to begin killing—a carriage drove up. Two ladies alighted; one known to me as the wife of thelsuperintendent of one of our leading Comstock mines, and the other a young ladyifrom San Francisco, as I afterward learned. I saw, almost as soon as the ladies arrived, that the younger one had no use of her right arm. It was so completely paralyzed that she was obliged to move it about with her left hand. I observed that when she wanted to put her dead hand into her. muff she was obliged to reach through with her left, get hold of the hand and then draw it to where she wanted it, just as though it had been a skein of yarn. Well, it appears there had been some understandingabout the young lady coming there, but what she dia not a little surprised some of us the first day she came. The ladles stood looking on while we hauled up a bullock and knocked him on the head. No sooner had the knife been withdrawn from the animal’s throat than the young lady suddenly threw off the large mantle that she wore, and rushing forward sat down upon the floor just at the bullock’s neck, where a torrent of blood was gushing. She then bared her right arm and thrust it to the shoulder into the gaping and blood-spouting throat of the animal, holding it there until the blood had ceased to flow. We were then killing about thirty animals every afternoon, and every day regularly the girl came and thrust her dead arm into the bleeding throat of one or more of them. That girl had great courage and was not one of your overnice kind, I can tell you. She had a coarse dress of some heavy woolen stuff that she wore for the purpose, and when the bullock fell and the knife had done its work she at once ran up and seated herself on the floor as regardless of the blood as if it had been so much water. There she would hang across the neck of the beast until it ceased to bleed. She was so brave that we were all glad when she got well. I remember how happy she was when she came one day and showed us that she could begin to open and close her fingers. From that time forward she improved rapidly. Soon she could move her arm, and finally could grasp and lift things with her hand. I think she came for about three weeks before she was cured. The last day she came she was quite bright and merry — more so than I had ever seen her. After putting on her mantle she thanked us all for our kindness to her and shook hands with us, giving us the cured hand, which, as she laughingly said, we had ‘ some right to.’ We all felt a great interest in her, but never saw her again. I never learned her name. All I know is that she came here from San Francisco. I suppose I might have found out who she was by asking Mr. , but I didn’t know but I might be considered impertinent. I don’t know whether the cure proved permanent. After the young lady went away we thoughtwe should see many persons there to try the blood bath, but none have ever come. That girl was the only one, and I never saw anything like it before or since.’’— Virginia, City (Nev.) Enterprise.