and to the minister who edited upon him,
he made a full confession of his having been sent to Mississippi as a
spy for Sherman, and that he had already supplied that yankee General
with valuable information of the strength and capacity of Vicksburg
for resistance. He was very much humiliated at being condemned to
death by hanging and made application for the sentence to be changed
to shooting, but the military authorities declined acceding to his
demand, and he was accordingly hanged on the branches of a tree near
Jackson. A small mound of earth in an obscure portion of the
Confederacy is all that is left to mark the remains of Horace Awtry.
The libertine and prosecutor of Mrs. Wentworth is no more, and to God
we leave him. In His hands the soul of the dead will be treated as it
deserves, and the many sins which stain and blacken it will be
punished by the Almighty as they deserve. Black as was his guilt, we
have no word of reproach for the dead. Our maledictions are for the
living alone, and then we give them only when stern necessity demands
it, and when we do, our work of duty is blended with regret, and would
be recalled were it possible, and did not the outraged imperatively
demand it. To our Savior, we leave Awtry Before the Judge of mankind
he will be arraigned for his guilty acts on earth, and the just voice
of the Father, will pronounce on him the punishment he merits.

But one more character remains for us to notice. Three or four times
in the last twelve months a man dressed in the uniform of a Lieutenant
of the Staff, and wearing a black crape around his arm, may have been
seen with a little boy kneeling by the side of a grave in the cemetery
of Jackson, Mississippi. The grave contains two remains, but is
covered over with one large brick foundation from which ascends a pure
and stainless shaft of marble, with the following inscription on its
snowy front:

SACRED

TO THE MEMORY OF

MY WIFE AND CHILD,

EVA AND ELLA WENTWORTH.

"Their troubles o'er, they rest in peace."

1863.

A.W.

As our readers must perceive, the stranger and child, are Alfred
Wentworth and his little boy. About four months after the death of his
wife, he was appointed Inspector General of a Louisiana brigade with
the rank of first Lieutenant, and being stationed for awhile near
Jackson, paid frequent visits to the city, and never failed on such
occasions to take his son to the grave of his wife and child. There,
kneeling bef