RICHARD ASHTON MURDEROUSLY ATTACKED--HIS DEATH.
Richard Ashton faithfully kept the promise made to little Mamie;
for he never touched nor tasted liquor again. His struggle was a
desperate one; but as he was determined, by the help of God, to
conquer, he succeeded. Mr. Gurney again employed him, but in a
subordinate position; and though there was subdued sadness in the
house, because they missed the prattle of their lost darling--missed
her sunny face and cheery songs--yet even in her death she
had left such a benediction that they were still experiencing its
blessedness months after she had passed away. It was her dying
request which had influenced her father to change, and he was
truly changed; for not only had he, as we have noticed, conquered
his appetite for strong drink, but he had so completely repented
of the past as to have become a devoted Christian, and was
trusting that through the merits of his crucified Redeemer he
would, one day, meet his little daughter in heaven.
But trouble, dark and terrible, was again to visit the home of the
Ashtons, and this time it was the poor lost sheep who had lately
been gathered by the Good Shepherd into the lower fold, that was
to be translated--though by a cruel death--to the green pastures
and still waters of the homeland above.
One very dark night as he was returning home from the store, where
he had been detained later than usual, having reached the back
street on which his house was situated, and when within a short
distance of it, as he was passing an alley he was suddenly struck
a terrific blow on the head, which felled him senseless to the
earth. The ruffian who had attacked him was not content with
knocking him down, but continued brutally kicking him after he had
fallen, and did not desist until his victim was lying still, as
though dead.
"I guess that settles the score I have against him," muttered Joe
Porter, for he it was who had made the murderous attack. "I'm
thinking they'll have a good time finding out who did it. And
he'll be some time before he swears against me again. If I only
had that young dandy here that took his part I'd settle with him,
too. No man ever meddled with me yet without suffering for it, for
I hold spite like an Injun, and I'll have satisfaction out of him
if I swing for it." Thus muttering to himself he glided off into
the darkness.
Eddie, when on his way home a few moments afterwards, saw, by the
light of his lantern, a man lying on the sidewalk; and, on closer
inspection, what was his surprise and horror to find it was his
father. The latter's face was all covered with blood, and though
he seemed to be still insensible, he began to groan as though
conscious of pain. Eddie ran to a neighbour's, and procuring the
assistance of a Mr. Thompson, and two grown-up sons, he asked them
to kindly carry his father home, while he would run ahead and
prepare his mother for the shock which must certainly ensue; for
he wisely concluded, if on their entering the house she should
come to the door and meet them carrying what would appear to be
the lifeless body of her husband--in her present delicate state of
health--the effect would be most serious. He broke the news to her
as gently as possible, but he had uttered but a very few words
when she concluded something alarming had occurred. "Oh, Eddie!"
she exclaimed, as all color forsook her face--leaving it as white
as marble--"what has happened? Is your father dead?"
Eddie answered in the negative, but said he had been hurt, though
he hoped not seriously. Hearing Mr. Thompson and his sons coming
with his father, he ran to meet them; his mother, having by this
time mastered her emotion, was now quite calm and prepared for the
worst. They bringing him in laid him on the bed, and Mrs. Ashton,
immediately getting a towel, began washing the blood off his
temple, knowing the water would likely have the effect of
restoring him to consciousness. She had not continued it long
before he awakened out of his stupor and faintly asked: "Where am
I? What has happened?"
Mrs. Ashton replied, "You have been hurt, dear, but lie still, and
don't agitate yourself now, for you will know all about it after
awhile." He shut his eyes at her request and lay perfectly still.
Eddie, in the meanwhile, had gone for the doctor, and in a few
minutes returning with him the latter proceeded to examine Mr.
Ashton. He found him very seriously, if not fatally injured. He
had been first struck on the temple by a cane or club. This blow
of itself was sufficient to do him very grave injury, but it had
been followed by brutal kicks on the prostrate man's body. The
doctor pronounced two of his ribs broken and his spine seriously
injured.
"Will he recover, doctor?" asked Mrs. Ashton. "I would like you to
give me your honest opinion as to what you think the result will
be."
"We must leave results with God," Mrs. Ashton. "He has been
brutally beaten, and what I fear most is the shock to his nervous
system. His constitution was so seriously impaired previous to
this attack that I have the gravest fears as to the issue."
He never arose from his bed; though he lingered for several days,
and gave his wife and family the sweet consolation of knowing his
whole trust was in Christ, through whose merits and intercession
he expected to have an abundant entrance into His kingdom. Before
he died his ante-mortem statement was taken, when he said he just
had a glimpse of the person who struck him, and he believed his
assailant was Joe Porter.
He remained conscious to the last, and the parting with his wife
and family was very affecting. He asked Eddie to be faithful to
his mother, which he promised to be. "Oh, Ruth," he said, "I have
been a very unfaithful husband. Rum has been our curse, but I know
you forgive me, darling." He then kissed them each; asking them to
meet him in heaven, and in a few moments after quietly departed.
Thus died Richard Ashton, in the flower of his manhood, a victim
of the drink curse; for rum had broken his constitution, robbed
him of his intellectual vigor, reduced him and his family almost
to beggary, and he was finally murdered by one of its vendors. He
was endowed by his Maker with a bright intellect and a loving
heart. In his early manhood he fell heir to an ample fortune, and
was blessed with as good a wife as God ever gave to man; but rum,
"cursed rum," had blighted all his prospects, made life a failure,
and was instrumental in bringing him to an untimely grave.
They buried him by the side of little Mamie in the beautiful
Bayton cemetery, "Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, to wait the
resurrection of the just."
Joe Porter was arrested and tried for the crime, but, as several
of his creatures swore he was present in his bar until after ten
o'clock that night he was acquitted; though the public believed he
was the criminal, and he was despised and shunned by all but the
lowest dregs of the populace.