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August 1, 1864 All About a Baby.—A few mornings ago, there was quite an excitement in the Second Market. The excitement was occasioned by the appearance of a new article to be disposed of. It was not offered for sale, but tendered as a gift to any one who would accept it. This new species of marketery was nothing more nor less than a baby four or five weeks old. It was borne in the arms of its mother, who seemed to be not more than fifteen years of age. She was quite handsome, but her worn raiment and anxious look told but too plainly that she was the unhappy victim of extreme want and suffering. This novel mode of disposing of an infant very naturally attracted the attention of the market people. At first a crowd of boys assembled around the young mother. The excitement soon extended to the grown people, and in a little while the whole mass of buyers and sellers who thronged the market were drawn into it. The young mother offered her tender off-spring to every lady she met, but no one seemed willing to accept it. At length she encountered an old negro woman who announced her readiness to take it. The child was about being delivered over to her when three young ladies interposed. They were two sisters, Misses M***** and their cousin Miss M*****. These ladies advised the mother against this summary transfer of her child to an irresponsible and unknown negro. The mother thanked the ladies for their kind interest in the child, and solicited their aid in securing a better disposition of it, stating that she was in such a necessitous condition that it would surely perish if she kept it. It required no argument to convince the ladies of the correctness of this representation. They determined, therefore, to endeavor to find a home for the innocent little sufferer. Their first effort was to remove the mother and child from the noisy and restless crowd that pressed around them. They accordingly went to a neighboring Orphan Asylum. Entering that institution, and summoning the manager, they seated themselves and heard the story of the unfortunate mother. It was sad in the extreme, and could not but move the stoutest heart to pity. The young ladies petitioned the Asylum to take the child. But they were told that the rules of the institution prohibited the reception of any one under two years old, and that the manager had no authority to disregard the regulation. This was a source of great disappointment and embarrassment to the young ladies. They knew not what further steps to take. At this point, a lady entered the establishment. It was Mrs. P********, who lived near by. She had been attracted by the crowd which had followed to the Asylum, and which filled the street and hung round the door. When she heard the pitiable story of the poor mother and child, she proposed to take charge of the infant, temporarily, until some definite arrangement could be made. The proposition was joyfully accepted, and the ladies, together with the mother and child, adjourned to the house of Mrs. P-------. There the distressed mother repeated her sad story more in detail. It may be thus briefly stated. She and her brother were the only children of a widow in North Carolina. About a year ago she was sent to Richmond to be placed at school. She came in company with her brother, who had been home on furlough. on reaching Richmond, she made the acquaintance of a soldier on detail duty here. In a few days they were married. This was against the advice of her brother, who went on to his command, and has since been killed. The marriage proved an unhappy one.—Her husband finally went away, as he said, to the army. His departure did not seem like a final abandonment of her; but as she heard nothing from him, she felt herself forsaken. She supported herself as best she could by sewing. Having no friends or acquaintances, she found great difficulty in obtaining work; but, before the birth of her child, she managed to struggle along and keep soul and body together. Now that she had a child, she was reduced to utter destitution. She could not leave her child to hunt for work, and knew no one to whom she could appeal for aid. The enemy had got possession of that part of North Carolina where her mother lived, and she knew not what had become of her. She was therefore driven to the desperate necessity of asking some one to relieve her of her child, so that she could renew her daily toil for her own existence. The only semblance of a home she had was a small room which she had been fortunate enough to get, for the time being, free of charge. For this she was thankful—uncomfortable and miserable as it was. She had recently heard that her husband was killed in one of the battles around Richmond; but, as she had been unable to learn any particulars as to the time and place of his death, she had some little hope that it was not true. She gave the locality of her abode; gave references, and invited inquiry on the part of those ladies who seemed now to occupy the position of her protectors, as she wished them to be satisfied that she was practising no deception. The locality which she designated was an ample guarranty for respectability, and was at the same time indicative of that squalid destitution which she described. This pitiable tale was told with an artless simplicity which left no doubt of its truth. After consultation, it was decided that Mrs. P. should retain the child for the present, and that they would all meet at her house the next day at 11 o'clock A. M. In the mean time the young ladies would continue their exertions in behalf of the child, with a view of making permanent provision for it. They then separated, the mother evincing every possible emotion of mental tenderness and affection on leaving her child. Next morning, at 8 o'clock, the mother appeared at Mrs. P.'s. She took up her babe, pressed it to her bosom, wept over it; said she had not slept a wink the night previous on account of her separation from it.—The young ladies came at 11, according to agreement. The mother told them of the unhappy night she had passed, and that, from what she had already experienced, she could not think of such a thing as giving away her child, but she reiterated her inability to support it at present. She therefore sought for it some temporary custody, and trusted that, by the mercy of Providence, she might find herself some day in a condition to take it back. This exhibition of maternal affection increased the anxiety of the ladies in behalf of the child. They renewed the promise that it should be cared for. The result of this conference was that the mother was supplied with a small store of provisions, which were sent to her humble home. She then took her child, the Misses M. promising to call upon her the next morning at 8 o'clock. The party then separated. At the appointed hour the next morning the young ladies called at the place which had been designated.—They found there neither mother nor child. Upon inquiry on the premises, it was ascertained that they went off early in the morning with a soldier. They could learn but little about the woman. She had been there only a short time. But what little they did learn, so far as it went, was corroborative of the woman's own story. The young ladies went away rather puzzled at her mysterious movements that morning. They went home to await events. About 9 o'clock that same morning, the mother, with her child, appeared at Mrs. P----------'s. She was agitated by mingled emotions of gladness and sorrow. She stated that early that morning a soldier called for and informed her that her husband wanted to see her and the lady. She went and saw him. He was in jail, and had been there for some months, on a charge of larceny. He told his wife that he had purposely concealed the fact from her; he knew of her privations and misery, but was unable to afford her any relief. It was only when he learned of her purpose to give away her babe that he resolved to reveal himself. He begged her to keep it if she possibly could. He protested his innocence of the crime with which he was charged, but said he knew not what would be his fate at the trial.—He entreated his wife to summon all the christian fortitude she could to sustain her under the heavy weight of adversity which rested upon her, and pray for the return of happier days for both of them. The discovery of the husband opened up a new chapter in this "romance in real life." But it has not diminished the interest of the noble and kind-hearted ladies in behalf of the innocent and helpless child. RICHMOND [VA] WHIG, August 1, 1864 Note: "The marriage proved an unhappy one.—Her husband finally went away, as he said, to the army. His departure did not seem like a final abandonment of her; but as she heard nothing from him, she felt herself forsaken."
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