The Darlington flag (Lydia, SC) 1851-1852, October 02, 1851, Image 1
DEVOTED TO SOUTHERN RIGHTS, MORALITY, AGRICULTURE, LITERATURE, AND MISCELLANEOUS NEWS.
JANES H. NORWOOD, EDITOR.]
To thine oirnself be true; And it must follow as the night the day; Thou const not then be false to any man.—II vmi.i.t.
VOL. 1.
DARLINGTON C. H., S. C., THURSDAY MORNING OCTOBER 2 1851.
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POKlTICAL.
warning to honest
O
(From the Charleston Mercury.)
Melsrs. Editors: Some time since,
a correspondent from Washington City,
(a native of this State) animadverted
with some severity, on the ultraism of
the Secessionists, as contrasted with
the course of the Co-operafionists.—
He has since made a tour through
some of the Northern States, and you
have below the result of observations
which seem to have made an entire
revolution in opinions which he enter
tained but a month previously.
Extract.
“ New York, Sept 1G, 1851.
“ The political state of the country
merits notice. On the great question
which agitates the Republic, I have
heard not a word. As I passed through
Syracuse, the conventions, Whigs and
Democrats, were breaking up. The
former exulting that no allusion bail
l>een made to the Compromise; and
the latter no less so in measures, not
even half harmonious on this distract
ing subject. The conclusion to which
I have arrived, after much reflection, is
that the days of the Constitution are
numbered. I will not say of the Re
public, because under that name a gov
ernment may exist ns in France, and
there will be serviles enough to laud
and support it. lam now satisfied that
South Carolina has no other altema-
lire than to secede. The Northern peo
ple Can and will understand no other
Government than a consolidated one.
New York, like Paris, is to l»c the mi-
cleus, and to utter and enforce the
opinions of the Commonwealth. No
mistake on this point. 1 tremble to
think that we have endured our degra
dation so long. The Secessionists of
our South Carolina must he up and do
ing. Co-oj>cralionlits, of which I Was
one hut a few weeks since, have been
misled. The North never meant to be
satisfied short of entire emancipation.
This is the issue, and if \vc are to per
ish let it he on that alternative. The
South Carolidian who shuts his eye to
this extremity will find, to his imperish-
able disgrace, that his love for Union
(hypocritical in this quarter) has been
only a catch-call to cover him with
eternal infamy. New York jmlilicians
intend to rule the States. Her great
city is to be the emporium, where her
edicts are to emanate. Perish, I say,
the whole country, rather than to sub
mit to such a Regime. Once surren
der the right to secede, and the reserv
ed rights of the States are “ leather
and prunella.” I am disgusted
with the prosjieiity 1 see here, be
cause I know it to be based on the
wrongs of the South, and must inevit
ably lead to its degradation—ergo Ru
in. No other alternative is left South-
Carolina but secession. As one, I
would withdraw «H attempts at con
ciliation short of Oar rights under the
Constitution, ana only regret that I
have neither the ability nor the means
to enforce a strict compliance with its
provisions, or a solemn resolve to cut
the knot that binds us. A cursory
glance at what I have penned, and the
erasures, show I have written in haste.
They require your forbearance, but so
far as my opinions arc concerned, I
take ‘no step backwards.’
“South Carolina must move on
ward ; and in the righteousness of her
cause, comrilit her all to a Higher Pow
er. If she is firm and united she will
triumph. If she falters, under divided
counsels, she is lost and humiliated.—
God forhiAthat my native State should
now forflp Hr inheritance of a deter
mined and devoted Revolutionary An
cestry.’*
ANOTIBlT WARNING. ***
The Greenville Patriot etffSeptem-
in 8 P eakin * the Union tri
umph in Mississippi, and the crowing
consequent thereupon, remarks:
“ It is to bo hoped that th« friends
af the Union in South Carolina will
have an opportunity of crowing a little
on their own hook, the second Monday
in October, when delegates' to the
Southern Congress are elected. They
Itave already done a good deal of it on
account of the Union triumph in Mis
sissippi.”
Here is another
resistance co-operafionists. The suc
cess of co-operation in the canvass
for delegates to the Southern Con
gress, will lie caught up by the Union
buglers, and the submission of South
Carolina will be pealed throughout the
land. We again warn them that they
are on the road to Greenville.—South
Carolinian.
The following is the concluding
paragraph of a long editorial against
the secession movement in South Caro
lina taken from the columns of the
Democrat, a Southern Rights paper
published at Eutaw Alabama.
Such then is the present position of
S. Carolina and such we believe to be
tier future prospects. But should she
secede—should she sever the silken
hands that hind her to the other States
—then! every son of her’s will rally
around her banner. Those who differ
as to the policy of secesion, will differ
no longer—for their State will com-
mand their allegiance. Those who
have wandered away from their moth
er—those who havtf emigrated to other
States, and who are anxiously looking
to the part she w ill act in the great
drama, will hasten back to the soil
where their eyes first saw the light, and
pledge their lives, their fortune, and
tlieir sacred honor at the feet of the
blessed mother who is the idol of all
their fondest affections. At the first
tap of the nullification drum we fell
into the ranks, and at the first peal of
the secession bugle, we shall renew
our old position in the line for weal
or woe, for life or death. Nor shall
we be alone! From every moor and
mountain of the South—from every
hill side and from every valley of the
west—from the Alabama to the Falls
of St Antony ; from the Gates of the
Rocky Mountains to the Dclles of
Oregon ; from the Patapsco to the
Gulf of Mexico ; and from the Balize
to the great Pacific Ocean, her sons
will come in companies, in battalions,
in regiments in divisions and strike
(town her invaders as if .Rained with
the consuming fires of the Avenging
| God.—AbbcviUe Banner. ^lt
[From the Black River Watchman.]
, ROSE OF PEE DEE.
A LEGEND OF THE OLD CHERAW.
It was in the darkest and most try
ing hour of the war for independence,
that our story opens.
Wave alter wave, the invading hosts
had swept over the plains of Carolina;
the soil was red with the blood of her
noblest and treasured citizens, who had
fallen in the unequal strife, and even the
most fearless and undaunted among
them began to tremble at the prospect
of chains.md subjugation. From Nine
ty-Six to Charleston, with undisputed
sway, the conquering Briton lorded it
over the land, and the sound of battle
was for a while hushed, aud to a care
less s|)cctator of events, the State ap
peared shorn of her strength, broken
in spirit, and an abject, though sullen
suppliant at the feet of the conqueror.
Rut tho« who looked beyond at the
exterior surface of passing events, and
read aright the indignant and clouded,
but mute countenances of the yeoman
ry of the State, when the hnilghty in
vader looked down upon them with a
supercilious and contemptuous smile,
might see that there was yet burning
in the iieart of every Carolinian, a
heart-hatred of tyrants and of tyran
ny, and a determination to battle man
fully for the independence of his coun
try, even though the dictates of patri
otism might lead to the dungeon or the
scaffold. But wo will not dwell upon
the events of those times. The histo-
ry of that pcriodis familiar to most of
our readers. The army of Gates had
just been disbanded, aud the forces of
the British, (all traces of opposition
having passed away,) were quartered
upon the various towns of the appa
rently conquered province. One de-
tachment of the British troops, under
the notoimus McArthur, liad been dis
patched to Cheraw to keep in awe the
revolutionary spirits of that important
section. The Ellerbes, the MeNeals,
the Thomases, the Bentons, and other
warlike chieftains of that corner of the
1 Suite, dreading the sammary ven-
: gaanco of the unscrupulous couquorer,
were forced to flee from their homes
I to the deep swamp which ever afforded
a safe asylum to the refugee whigs, and
here, burning with a love of liberty,
they gathered around them gradually,
I meit of their own name and race, and
thus silently prepared a force that at
length enabled them to cope with the
invader, and in turn to compel him to
evacuate his post and fall back upon
the army of the capital.
One incident that occurred during
this momentary pause in the conflict,
when the patriots were silently prepa
ring to struggle with their invaders, I
am now about to relate; and here let
me premise in all truth and sincerity,
that the story which I now lay before
my readers, is not a story of the imagi
nation. It is a simple relation of
facts, such as I have often heard from
the lips of a noble matron of a by-gone
age, who well knew some of the ac
tors in this sad drama of life. It is
“ an over true tale,” and if the heart
should bleed at its recital, let it be con
soled by the fact that the grave has
since swallowed up the vain regrets of
the true-hearted and beautiful, who was
the chief sufferer of that mournful
tragedy.
Tho unclouded suu of September
was just sinking in the western sky,
when Rose Lloyd, the belle of the Pee
Dee, came forth from her private cham
ber into the balcony of her paternal
mansion, that commanded a wide pros
pect of that beautiful country around
the town of Cheraw. The house, al
most within a stone’s cast of the Pee
Dee, was situated upon the brow of
that hill that overlooked the deep val
ley through which the dim waters of
that noble stream flowed on their way
to the ocean. The house was upon
the very brow of the lofty hill, and for
miles above and below, were obtained
beautiful glimpses of the glassy stream,
reflecting the clear and unclouded sky.
To the rear of the mansion which over
looked the river, extended a w ide and
level plain, from which, at the distance
of about two hundred paces, rose the
village church, a plain and simple struc
ture in the gothic style—not devoid of
pretentions to taste and elegance,—
where for years the weekly services of
religion had congregated the pious wor
shipers of the neighborhood. In keep
ing with the character of the place, a
'grove of noble oaks had been suffered
to grow around the sacred edifice, that
sheltered it from the noon-day sun.—
But here the cassock ami the gown
were no longer seen. The priest—the
ho\j hwbu of God—\yas forbidden to
, perform the functions of his sacred
office, and the venerable church had,
for the time, been converted into bar
racks for the disorderly and dissolute
soldiers of the arrogant Briton. There
was established the head quarters of
the regiment of McArthur, aud the pi
ous patriot, as he beheld the desecra
tion of the temple that he had conse
crated to religious purposes, vowed in
his heart vengeance upon the invaders
of Uiis country, and the profane des-
pisers of his religion. Tho pulpit and
the altar had been torn from their pla-
cos, and the rude oath of the mercena
ry soldier rang around the altar that
had so often echoed the solemn and
eloquent appeal, uttered from the sa-
! cred desk.
Rose, in happier days, had loved,
when the sun sank in tiie west, to steal
to the rear of her father’s mansion, ami
to look upon the village church that
^ her ydung heart had coupled with so
many endearing associations, but now
she loved hot to look upon a scene that
recalled to her the presence of the in
vader. Her chief and favorite resort
was the cool and shady balcony on
the east, whence she co^l look down
upon the quiet stream that lay extend
ed from North to South, like a bright
band of burnished silver. There, on
the evening of winch we speak, she
stood leaning on the railing that ran
around the balcony, with her cheek
resting upon her palm, pensively gazing
upon the unruffled stream that glided
along through the valley with a scarce
ly perceptible motion.
Beyond this noble stream lay a wide
extended valley, whose bosom teemed
with the rich fruits of autumn. Here
and there, in the dim distance, rose an
humble dwelling, above whose roof
curled gracefully towards heaven, the
light blue smoke, that in that calusBud
quiet evening rose like a pillar to mark
the home and habitation of man.
But the fair maiden looked not up
on tho nohle landsca[>e that spread
around; her eye wandered not over
the beautiful expanse of woodland,
and of river, of valley, or of plain,
that seemed to woo her attention.
Her face wa« fair, beautifully fair,
and the gentle flight of eighteen sum
mers had rounded, and given the full
perfection of beauty, to a form stri
kingly graceful. The rose had but
S veu its slightest shade, to mingle w ith
e stainless white of her cheek, but
health beamed from her dark and ex
pressive eyes, that flashed with anima-
mation beneath their long and dark the unfading flowers of love and devo-
lashes. Her raven hair was hound ia tion.
the tasteful grecian knot, and gave full Rose was the affianced of Clarence
development to her pale and intellect!!- Walsingham, ami her guileless heart
al forehead. Her dress was simple, felt in his presence a rapture that he-
but chosen with exquisite taste, and longs only to the first sincere nttaeh-
served to set oft’ and display a form of ment of the heart, and can return no
exquisite symmetry. more when that early spell is brokn
There was a dreaminess in her gaze, or destroyed. Whenever the duties
as she stood, the very incarnation ol of the camp permitted, Walsingham
loveliness and grace, rapt in the mu- hastened, with a rapture which onh
sing of her maiden heart. Whither lovers can experience, to pass a few
can the fancy of a young and joyous days in delightful intercourse with his
maiden wander unattended by the beautiful mistress,
dreams of love, and future life? No Such hours passed rapidly and pl. a-
visions of the future visit the heart of santly away, and when the young s«>I-
thc maiden in which there rise not, in dier returned to the camp it was but to pop in your votes for me—I’ll ]’<
[NORWOOD i DE 10RME, PI liLlSlH’.RS.
no. :n.
reived cnougnto satisfy me for life.—
I went out to Mexico, ate pork ami
lieaus, slept in the rain and wind and
swallowed every tiling except live Mex
icans. \\ hen 1 was ordered to “ go,"
I went. “Charge,” I charged. “And
break for the chapparell,” J’ou had bet
ter believe 1 heat a quartemag induing
my duty.
My competitor, Swan, i ; .a bird of
golden plumage, who has been swim
ming for the last four years in the Au
ditor’s pond, at 85000 a year. 1 am
for rotation—I want to rotate my sell
in. There's plenty of room for him to
swim outside of that pond—therefore
the forefront of the picture, some form dream of the pleasing hopes who
upon which the memory loves to linger, fulfillment seemed yet so distant,
with fond and unselfish devotion-
r
some
idolized being upon whom, in the in-
uocency of her heart, she loves to lav
ish, in her waking dreams, the wealth,
| ami the untold riches of her maiden
heart. Thus was it with our lovely he
roine.
Rose Lloyd was the only daughter
1 of a widowed mother, who wrs now
left to struggle alone with the ills of
life, multiplied as they were by the
state of lawlessness and confusion in
which the country was plunged by a
bloody and long continued war. Her
[to hi: coNri.rnFi).]
DANmUUSSEl.
riox-
AN ELKUTIOMIEllER \SISA\Et.Ki
KKKER. *
Decidedly ihe greatest elcctioneerer
wo have ever met with, says the Mem
phis Enquirer, is Daniel R. Russell,
Union candidate for Auditor of Mis-
sissippi. We heard him address tlm
multitude at Hernando some weeks a-
go, and with such infinite good humor
and effect, that wo shall he much mis
taken if his ton minutes’ speech does
votes. Russell's plan of electioneering
is to deal with the “sovereigns” with
the most blunt frankness—discarding
every particle of hlarnying humbug.—
The Mississijtpi Union sketches below
bis speech at Jacinto. It is a capital
sketch of the spirit of his speeches.
dignity or honhommir of manner. We
give it, however as affording some idea
of his “way" of getting along.
Ladirs amd Gentlemen : I rise—
but there's no use in telling that—
you koovv 1 am up, as well as I do.—
1 am a modest man—very—but 1 nev-
: only son, a gallant and noble youth, not turn him out as many hundred
who might have lieen her stay and pro
tector in times so perilous and troubled,
she herself had sent forth with a mo
ther’s blessing upon him, to join the
patriot host of Marion, and do battle
in defence of his country. The gen
tle Rose had wept over the absence of
her brother, but her young heart had though not up to the. original either in
learned to endure his absence. Night
ly she knelt before the throne of her
j Maker, and with her prayers for anab-
i sent brother, was mingled the name of
one not less dear—the brave and gal
lant Clarence Walsingham, the idol of
j his regiment
It was her delight to hear the jirai.se or lost a picayune by it in my life—bo
ot’ ber lover, from the lips of his com- ing a scarce commodity among eandi-
rades and compatriots, when a short dates, 1 thought I would mention it,
pause in the conflict enabled them to tor tear il l didn't you would not hear
return, upon a brief furlough, to the de- of it.
I lightful fireside of home and friends, * 1 Candidates are gMnwaHiot; they are
whoso pleasures were enhanced a thou- as the world, shake
; sand fold by the daily toils and perils
to which they were inured. 7’ f,c .V
spoke of him as a hold and daring pa r ‘
teau—for?B,*,.3»vr, -ths-diaigS and.the
last in the retreat—a kind and gener
ous comrade, and a man without fear
and without reproach.
It was seldom that the arduous du
ties in which Walsingham was engaged
' permitted him, for a brief space, to
' abandon his post and to enjoy a stolen
vou by the hand a-k how’s your lami-
ly what’s the prospect tor r [‘/P s ’ “®"
out and pop myso
I am for a division of labor. Swan
says he has to work all (tie lime
w ith his nose down upon the public
grindstone. Four years must have
ground it to a pint. I’oor fellow, the
public, ought not to insist on having tho
handle of his mug ground clean off.—
Ihave a hfrge, full grown and well
blown nose, red ns a beet and lough
as sole-leather. 1 rush tixtlie post off
duty—I offer it up as a sacrifice. I
clap in on the grindstone: fellow citi
zens, grind away—grind till I holler
iniiff, and that ’ill be sometime first,
for I’ll hang like grim death ton dead
African.
Time's most out, Well, I like to
forgot to tell you my name. It’s Dan
iel—for short Dan. Not a handsome
name for my parents were poor people
who lived where the “quality” appro
priated all the nice names, therefore
they had to take what was left and di
vide among us—but it's as hatisomc as
I am—Dan Russell. Remember, eve
ry one of you that it’s not Swan.
I am sure to be elect d—so one and
all, great and small, short and tall when
you come down to Jackson after the
election stop at the Auditor’s office—
tho latch otring always hangs out—en
ter without knocking—take off your
things, an make yourself at home.
[Dan crawfished out .ivfsstAl, ’ und
’^'ilfiVavy Crockett."
THE PRINTER'S TEN COMMANItfEMi
1. Thou shall love the Printer—for
he is the standard ol the country.
•> Thou shall subscribe to hi; DW
{pr he seek "'b ' ™
*•< a- '••'.I'
Davy v euo« .*‘\Avv>i M.-iLyrs. Rosewood
he ever saw when lie asked him to
drink, turned bis back, so that he might
drink as much as be pleased. I beat
that all hollow. I give a man a chance
to drink tw ice if lie wishes, for 1 not
only turn round, but shut my eyes. I
and hasty interview w ith the mistress ! am not only the politest man, but the
! of his affections. Known as an un- best eiectioneerer—you ought to see
compromising patriot, his appearance me shaking hands with the variation.;,
j was eagerly watched for by a band of the pump handle and pendulum, the
. lories in the neighborhood, to whom cross-cut and wiggle waggle ; under
lie had proved himself a vigilant and stand the science perfectly, and if
| terrible enemy. They had sworn that any of the country candidadatcs wish
he should die, and frequently one or instruction! they mutt call upon me.
another of these ill-bred rutliians ap- ! Fellow citzeus—I was bom—if 1
peared in the neighborhood of the wid hadn’t been a candidate; hut I’m go-
ow Lloyd’s house, where it was w ell ing to tell you where—'tvvust in Mi -
known he occasionally visited, to watch sissippi, but t’was on the right side of
for his coming. the negro line ; yet that’s no compli-
But far otherwise were the feelings incut, as the negroes are mostly born
with which his beautiful Rose watched on the same side. I started in the
for his coming. Sweet ajc those hours world as poor as u church mouse yet
j of youth and gladness, of tenderness I came honestly by my poverty, for I
and freshness, when love shines upon | inherited it, and if I did start poor, no
the pathway of life, and colors all the man can’t say hut that l have held my
future of existence. The very memo- own remarkably well
; ry of such hours is fragrant. They ! Candidates generally tell you—if
may, indeed, pass away, but they leave you think they are qualified,&c. Now
behind them pleasant reminiscences 1 don’t ask yefar thoughts, I ask your
and lovely associations, that a lifetime votes. Why there’s nothing to think
cannot destoy or debase. They visit of except to watch and see that Swan's
our after years, our manhood of wild name is not written upon vour ticket;
and feverish ambition, or our declining if so think to scratch it offnndput mine
age, like the sweet breath of spring on. I am certain that I am competent good one:
from a bank of flowers, or like the last for who had ought to know better than Hamilton, of the Maryville Tribune,
rays of the setting sun, when he sinks I do? Nobody. I will allow that was travelling in tho cars tho other dav
in solitary grandeur behind the west- Swan is the liest Auditor in tho State ; from BqUefoutaine to Kenton, when he
em hills, or like the last notes of me- that is, till 1 am elected—then, per- fell ill vgjlh a decided rharneU Il**
I odious music, that die upon the ear, haps, it’s not proper for me to say any- was tolerably drunk. Let Hamilton
niul leave tho heart to lament that they thing more yet as honest man, I am tell the rest:
are gone toreveiY' bound to say that 1 believe it’s a grio- He said he lived in Urbana; that tin*
Our fair heroine was in that golden vous sin to hide anything from my fel- Methodists had a great revival there
period ot life, when all around us is low citizens therefore I say that it’s my a year or more ago, and that he had
tinged with the golden hue of hope and private opinion, publicly expressed, that been converted some years before,
promise. Brighter is the streaming HI make the best Auditor even in the and had joined the church. NV# asked
sunlight, richer are the hues of the an- United states. him if he still belonged to it.
tumnal leaf, and more lovely the glow- Tis not for honor I wish to be Audi- “No,” said he, ‘‘theyjurnod me out
ing landscape in those eaiiy hours of tor for in my own county I was offer- for the most frivolous thing in tie 1 world
love, when the tranquil heart suffers no ed an office that was all honor—Coro- if I’d know’d thav turned me out for
shadow to rest upon its hope. The nor-*-whicb I respectfully declined.— that, I’d never finned.’’ *
soothing influence of love, the bright The Auditor’s office is worth some 8*kl Yte, “What did
day dreams that gladden life and make 85000 a year, and I am in for it like “O nothing—o|tly bet my horse out,
the future delightful in anticipation, a thousand of brick. To show rnv ran another fellow’s. I won the motley
were the ministers of her young and I goodnes of heart, 1TI make this offer and t4«»t drunk, anfl had two tights.-—
guileless heart; and how sweet is it to to^giy competitor; I am sure of being That’s all. And they turned me out
i one just entering upon the duties of elected and, ho will loose something forthnt!
life, to look forward with fond antici- by the canvass, therefore am willing to * * •
pation to a close and intimate union divide equally with him, and make “Did you ever know such a luwehan-
with a kindred spirit, in a paradise of these two offers: I’ll take tho salary frnl genius as my son I” said a lady,
the imagination, where no evil spirit and he my have the honor, or he may “He has ntgde a tiddle all out of his
may enter, to poison with its venom have the honor, and 171 take the snla own hyd, an# ho has wood enough for
the fountain of happiness, or wither In the wayoflionoia, I hirre rc- anof’
ELECTT0*cIi* T to J "dljtain the
news of which you remain ignorant.
8. 1 lion shall pay him for-his paper
—for he laboreth hard to give you the
news in due season.
4. If a business man, thou (halt ad
vertise tiial thus thy profits may enable
thee not only to pay for thy paper, hut
“ put money in thy purse.”
5. Thou shaft not visit him regard-
less of his office rules—in deranging
tiie papers.
0. T hou shall not touch anything
that would give the printer trouble—
that he may hold thee guilty.
7. Thou shall not read tho manu
script in the hands of the compositor
—for he will not hold thee blameless.
8. ’1 hou shall not sec tho news be
fore it is printed—for ho will give it to
you in due time.
il. Thou shall ask him lew questions
of things in the office—from it thou
shall tell nothing.
10. Thou shall not at any time send
abusive and threatening letters to tho
editor, nor cow-hide him more limn five
times u year—nor bring tho printer old
rotten wood—nor bring produce that
defiles the devil to eat.
PERSECUTED MAX.
A nothern paper tells the followin'*