Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, March 09, 1865, Image 1
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VOLUME 11. ' TORKVILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA, THURSDAY MORNING, MARCH 9, 1865. - ;; NUMBER S:
' : -u ? - --...-? .. . . . .. . ... >. , ... .. . ,...u -;.l: ' *... . *?
? ttua?M wfai?hwa. ?
I From the Columbia Guard tan.
APOEM.
[The fbUowing simple end - pretty little
poism is by * Virginia lady, and paBltahad
no?r for the first time :]
The bitter wind howls drearily,
Alas! the lire long day,
And here I ponder wearily,
For he I love's away.
For freedom's cause we parted, ?
With smiles I bade him go,
He knew not how faint hearted
Were the words which told him so.
? Far in the midnight watches,
He tread's the sentry's round,
Or troubled sleep be snatches
Upon the hard, cold ground.
Or, ah ! reflection maddeiflng,
Perhaps on fevered bed,'
No hand to smooth his pillow, ,
Or press his aching head.
Ccw.nyM.' ym bowHn* otgtil n iiuK
Ye rack my tortured brain,
Your waiting seems to tell me,
We jie'cr shall meet again.
Than oat' in fnttlM* CtnrV
His name will honored be,
^ Hs But What to meSrere glory
':?>' If tt ttarmy love from me?
So mourned the toned* mother,
y}-'-:' Am the night wind howl'd abound,
B* And the fleecy mows fall silently
* Upon the hard, cold ground.
Her Infant calmly sleeping
Upon hCT knee she bends,
And there while humbly kneelleg,
:v%';(V- a prayer to heaven she sends. ?n
?$$$$< And thus to God appealing, ^
HfiV Her tears fell last?when, hark!
!Afar, then nearer sounding
The faithful watch dog's bark!
Her cheek an instant flashes,
Then back the ruddy flow,
.^s *neath some fbotstep crushes,
The biting winter snow,
y i Witlj one deep cry of gladness,
Ma A well known rap she hears,
Hk When on a husband's bosom,
- Are ahed her Joyful tears. * *
Her prayer to heaven is answered,
? Her Wt; laid 10 re,tJ
Her husband's arm Is around her,
xwfc'rV'^B Her baby on her breast!
I And era the morning1! dawning,
In happy onion one,
They two together knelt and poured, p
. A thankful orison: \
?HLYDALE?
BY KLLXN LOUISE.
Oh, Lily, dear Lily, sweet LHy Dale!
Xow the wild me blossoms
O'er her little green grave,
'Neath the trees in the flowery vale 1"
It wu * beaptifaL Summer morning, on
which T started for. the academy of-Glenthorne.
I had never been so far away from
home.before, and the event vui nine days'
wonder, not only to me, tmt to the whole
famiLy of Elm-wood. I was the only daughter?the
darling of my parents, and at once
the pet and torment of my elder brothers.
Sorely there never tras'w home so fair, and
so souqj as mine; rorelj never'were green
trees ao grand ami'lofty, and nowhere did
the wild bilMs sing snoh pleasant strains. I
had grownup there, among green fields, and
brooks, and trees, and birdsongs, until now
T bm fifteen, and mv father thoueht it was
I time I should see something of the world,
beyond Elm-wood cottage sod the village
nffiyefidd.
?i^?re had been mysterious discussions
over ooffee1 And chocolate, and confidential
talks between parents and my eldest
brother, then a Bop.'lOmor? *t Harvard University,
until at last it had i|een decided
that I should make trial of <*'?-Dtborneacad>
emy?-in part, hdcause it was OuW thirty
miles from home, and in part because the
wife of the prinoipal was an old school
friend of my mother's.
My mother herself had conducted my
education so far, and was well qualified to
have finished it. She had taught me the
lore of many lands, and I'was bound to her
by no oommon tie. She, too, possessed this
?rgam^at$oiD, which, in me, yon, my friend,
have called so mysterious?the same love of
things an ordinary person would have called
ghostly and sombre. For ber, strange, old
Imoorna iegsnas, sua cue mysuu uauuuua
of Rhine-land, wore the same peculiar charm
vrhich has for bo many years made them my
deHght, and we used to read the chronicles
of other times with a zest and appreciation
which wc^ld seem incredible, if related of
a quiet, ordinary country girl, and a mother
quieter still. But nu. one could have oalled
her ordinary. One look from those large,
unfathomable, cblack eyes, was enough to
hauut you for a soore of restless nights, and
the cadenoe of her sweet low voice, had
something in it like the tinkle of the waves
in the sea-shell, whiob lingered in your.ear
long after the words were spokeo. Altogether,
she was the most striking, impressive
woman I ever remember to have met;
and yet there was little of command in her
uh^er, little pf self-reliance in her gentle
face. Albeit there had ever been most perfect
confidence between us, and I more than
nw ether, had shared all her hisrh and elo
J "~"l ? o? *?J
'^p: rious dreams, lean recoHeot now, th^t I
B j?| often looked on her with a sense of awe.
p | She was tall and slight, and her figure
B h had aiuch Of the pliant grace of the droopiag
willow. Her face was pore as a dream
B ?? of heaven, with the brow calm and pale be|r.i;;
neath the midnight of her death-black hair,
Br and the cheeks colorless and almost transparent.
Bat W eyes?those large mournI?
I B fal eyes, flashing upon you sometimes from
%'ip under their fringed lids with the gaze of an
f Italian Improvisatrioe?in them lay the chief
.charm of her countenance.
Yean ago, my mother was laid to rest,
where Sonthern roses blow upon her grave;
$ bat never1 yet have I seen another faoe, or
g| V listened to another voice, so fall of the glory
' of inspiration.
^he loved my father very fondly, even as
v % ?nd?yet there is not one parj
or similarity between them.
- B * ,e 0 -I^ -tgderbow they ever camo
I *!?' TW* *?'? thought
together, for I should - . ^ ^ midst
IW of wttiQg out aQ Iodian P- ' wiug that
of a Northern snow-bank, as qi ^ ^w.
Mf:: sweet. Southern passion-flower to the
'&?/: matio clasp pf my father.
Botmy mother loved him, and I have no
doubt they were very happy, only it always
seemed tome as if she had mistaken her
|B destiny. And yet, my father was a noble
man. His mind was enriched by much
travel, and the advantages of a liberal edu
'cation; and Bis profession of the law could |
boast of few brighter ornaments.
But I am wandering. The departure,
from home is so linked with my mother's image,
as she stood in the gate looking after
me, with ber large, monrnfal eyes; and
with my father's bale and hearty kindness,
that I could not forbear describing them.
I was half sad, haTf pleased at the idea
of leaving home. I rejoiced at the prospect
of new scenes, and new companions, ,
but I had a sore presentiment that mv heart
would ache for my mother's ardent sympathy,
in all the vagaries of my wild imagination.
Among my most engrossing subjects
of contemplation, I remember was the question,
who I should have for a ioom mate. |
I sat myself busily at work to sketch a <
fancy portrait. Hername was to bo Agnes. :
She was to be tall, and stately, very beauti- I
ful; with such black hair and eyes as I had <
dreamed of in my vision of Spain's prond
kft?nt!ao QVin trroc f/\ Kft tforo folnnto/1 an
w?auu?e. ,
I was at onoe to love- and reverence her,
and think it joy enough to be permitted
sometimes to touch my trembling fingers to
her satin smooth raven hair.
But in the midst of my vision, the stage
stopped before the gate of a large and handsome
mansion, and a gentleman and lady
came forth to welcome me.
"It is Miss Cleveland, I presume," said
the gentleman, in a cheerful tone, and I
looked at him in pleased Bhrprise, for he
was very handsome.
"It is Louise, I know," said the lady, as
she clasped me in her arms. "It is Florence
Cleveland's own child, for she has her
mother's gr$at, shy, blaok eyes."
I returned the caress very warmly, and
then, standing back, I looked at the lady
with an eye of curiosity. Yes, it was just
the picture mamma had drawn of her sohool
girl friend, Mary Evelyn. The same quiet
little woman, with brown eyes, and smoothly
parted brown hair?so affectionate too.
She put her arm about me, and led me into
the house, asking a thousand questions about
her "darling Florence" as she called
mamma. *
Then she removed my wrappers, and pro
posed to take me to my room mate. I had
been travelling all day, bat I forgot my fatigue
in tbo excitement of seeing my imaginary
Agnes, and followed Mrs. Carleton ^
briskly up a long flight of stairs.
She led me by several apartments, from ,
within whose olosed doors, I could bear (
sounds of laughter and cheerful talk, and ]
at last she paused before a door in the west ,
wing of the building. "This is your room, j
Louise, dear," she said, as she opened the
- door.
It was a very pleasant room; a cheerful j
looking carpet was upon the floor; on one
side stood a low French bedstead, with its .
white spread ; at the window was a writing .
table, with a desk of carved ebony, and .
round the roorfl were strewn books and pictures,
betokening the occupant as a person
of taste, as well as wealth.
I bad notioed all this, iu much Jess time
than it takes to tell it, and my eyes were
resting earnestly on my new room-mate, .
when Mrs. Carleton stepped forward and
said gently?
"Lily Dale, this is your room-mate, Lou- !
ise Cleveland."
I had never seen anything so lovely*as was
Lily Dale at^hat moment; and yet nothing
cou^ have been more unlike the Agnes of
my imagination. She was a very slight, 1
graceful girl, of not m^re than fifteen. Her 4
brow was pure as the fresh failed 5aow, and
a faint, sweet smile was playing and aimp-' <
ling about her rosebud mouth. Her rioh, T
golden ringlets fell over her snowy neck in 1
tangled light, and upon her small, classical
' head, was ponred, through a western window,
the molten glory of the sunset. Her
eyes were blue as the mid-summer sky at
high noon; and her thin, gossamer-like
dress, was of precisely the seme shade.
I had but an instant in which to fix on
the walls of my mental pictnre gallery that
fairy scene?the cheejful room, and tho golden-haired
young girl, sitting in her highbacked
arm-chair, with her wide open blue
eyes, and the sunset glory upon her forebead.
As Mrs. Carlton spoke, she looked at me
in eager, girlish ouriosity, and then coming
forward, she clasped her vhite, dimpled
arms about my waist, and pressing those
rose-bud lips to mine, she whispered?
"I am going to love you dfarly, Louise
Cleveland?will you please let me V'
"Let you, angel 1" and I clasped her in
iny arms?"why, you are the fairest seraph 1
oat of heaven. I'm only afraid you will f}y *
away, and leave me sometime, alone here, 8
in this lonely room 1"
I Wonder why I said this?I do not know. ?
Are there snch things as unconscious pre- ^
sentiments ? Who shall say ? '
Mrs. Carleton smiled quietly at my en- 8
thusiasm, and saying, in a tone half sad,
half merry, "Jjust like your mother, my 1
child," she left the room to order my sup- f
per. x
My new friend took off my bonnet and ]
put it away, and then drawing me to a 1
lounge, sat down beside me, and laid her t
little, graceful head upon my bosom. t
"Do you know, Louise," she exclaimed, '
"I am so glad yon are come. It is pleasant ^
here, bat I ased to get lonely sometimes,
with only my books, and my bird, and the 8
faces in the olouds, looking in at my west a
window!" '
My own temperament was so vague, ?
dreamy and enthusiastic, that it never struck c
me as singular, until years afterwards, that
she should have enumerated the cloud-faces e
among her companions. Folding my arms &
about her, I drew her Dearer and nearer to a
my heart, with such a love as I had never x
felt before. I loved them all at home very t
dearly, and my beautiful mother seemed to i
a second self, blent with my very thought; s
but i **** ^0Ve ^or "^a^c was different. i
.. .*.. much such a love as a mother i
s T Tn child. The fair girl wa9 e
8 ? 4han myself, but she was c
.oroely joa go - v ,omei
00 frailj ao ethenal; tn?-. . ....
bad been seat there to protect her, and I
took her into the inner temples of my heart
?a being to be oherished sacredly.
In a* few moments, Mrs. Carleton returned
to take me to the refectory. I shall
never forget this, my first sapper at Glcnthorne.
I had made Lily Dale go down
with me, for I oonld not bear to lose sight
of her for a moment; and very seldom has
my restless spirit ever been so quietly happy,
as sitting there, at the upper end of
that long, mahogany table, with the qniet
figure of my mother's early friend at the
head of the table, and sweet Lily Dale opposite.
The supper was nice enough to have
tempted-the appetite of an epioure. Such
delioate chocolate?suoh light and soft white
rolls?such- golden batter, and" such richlooking
strawberries, shining through a viel
of cream and white sugar.
I sat there quite happy, as I said. Indeed,
to ordinary observers, it was my usual
habit to seem quiet, and yet never was there
a more restless, unsatisfied spirit. A thousand
volcanoes were slumbering in my heart
and I had a kind of terrible, exultant consciousness,
that sometimes their fires would
oease to slumber?sometime an eruption
would make to itself a channel, though it
uLapiI/] nnn/1 n oof mTT Vlfflla "Rflf. ft
3UUUIU UObUO vav vutvugu sure
instioot told me this time was far in
the future. It would not oome to Glenthornc,
and while there,, there would be
peace and rest.
Days and weeks passed on, and every
hour my sweet Lily crept more and more
into my very sonl, until at last it was her
borne; and she dwelt there singing songs to
berself mornings and evenings.
Soon I learned that she was in love.?
Nay, that is not the word for such as her;
but she loved him with all the ardor of her
pure soul, one whom she deemed more than
worthy. Nor was she wrong, if one could
judge by the noble faoe pictured in the
locket she wore next her heart, and the letters
so beautiful in their manly tenderness,
ivhich*She received every week. Paul Clifford
most have heen worthy oven of a love
like hers.
Ho was thirty years old, she said, and oh,
)o talented ; and then nestling her head in
my bosom, she told me all about it?how at
irst he seemed to her so tall, and wise, and
)ld, that she had feared him, and used to
run and hide, when he came to her aunt's
iwelling, for my Lily was an orphan ; and
low he had followed her, and taught her
many things, and more than all, taught her
low to love him.
And love him she did, with all the love
>f her earnest heart. I have said Paul
JIHford's was a noble face. It was snob an
me as you seldom meet. The brow was
ligh, calm, intellectual, almost severe, had
t not been for the large, bright, laughing,
iazel eyes, that lay beneath it. The feaurcs
were regular and classical; the nosrils
thin and curved, and the mouth suoh
in one a3 I have never met but once?a
nouth beautiful in repose, but whose smile
ransports one to Eden.. Upon that lofty
>rew lay such shining, heavy ourls of chestlut
hair, as might well have won loving finders
to wander through them caressingly.?
in short, ho was just the man for a hero;
md 1 used often to threaten Lily with wriing
a novel about him.
Time passed on, and it was the Autumn
vacation. I took. Lilly with mc to my pleas,
mt homer; and had I not loved her so ehirely,
I might have been jealoua of her
jlaco among my honsohold treasures. She
von ?ven my father's heart, and my brothirs
declared tuey cCU^d D9' bo half so glad
o see me as they ought, they were so mucii
;laddor to see Lily.
My mother, too, loved her; but I was
till her darling, and I do believe that not
sven on my father were mamma's affections
;o abundantly lavished as on me. Eut there
"?La Iatto/I omnot T.ilu for fnn waII
rfUO VUW r? LAV iV/? HflVWk www ^ w...
\Iy noble brother Frank was home from colege,
and it needed bat a few boars in Lily
Dale's bright presence to win all his heart.
Ele loved her, fully, irrevocably, ere a
;hought of such a possibility had crossed my
nind. Frank's heart was a good and noble
>ne, and I would Lily Dale's head rested
)Q it. Bat it was not so to be; aUd though
Frank bore up bravely under the news of
jer engagement, I could see that the light
>f his life was gone out.
What happy days we had though, Lily
rnd I as we roamed over the hilhside and
neadow, or picked nuts in the green old
orest, till the sun went down. Lithe and
ilithe was the squirrel, and the emigration
ong of the forest birds sounded cheerfully.
3ut the pleasant days passed, and />noc a;ain
Lily and I sat in our cheerful room at
1 fVia oko OTTAW OTAV flnH
J'CLi tUUl UOj TT iiliu (UW V If w
rintry, and holly berries ripened in the
nnsbine of November.
Lily passed the Christmas holidays with
ler aunt, and came baqk again?very hopeill,
very happy. She had seen /?'% and ho
pas as handsome as ever, and twice ns dear.
!q those winter days her young heart seemed
:eeping holiday; you would have thought
bat in all the world there wero no such
bings as change and death, and that Lily
7ap walking in thd unchanged glory of
Sden. *
For myself, I so fondly loved her, that I
bared iti all her joy. I forgot for tho timo
ill my strange, mystical fancies?buried my
xerman transcendentalism in the same
;ravo with my Italian passion, and warned
inward in the clear light of love I
Hut there came a change. A letter scal:d
in black, and a few words most kindly
,nd gentiy said, but in their impart crushing
,nd terrible, telling Lily that her noblolover
?as dead?burled4 Her name had been
he last on his lips, aud the bopo of meetng
her in Heaveu had cheered his journey
hrough the valley of the shadow of death.
Lily did not shed a single tear as I read
t to her?even the obastened glory of a calm
miie passed over her fuce, as she whispired?
"Wed. then, Louise, I will go to him
[very soon ; after all, we shall be wedded
; sooner than wo thought."For
a moment, I thought the blow had
deprived her of reason ; and it seemed she'
divined my thoughts, for she replied to them
with a oalm, sweet smile?
"No, Louise, I am not mad. Paul is
gone, and it will not be long before I shall
go to him. I shall surely be his in
heaven!"
Thus was a new phase in~ Lily Dale's!
character made known to m&._ I knew how;
fondly she had loved Paul Clifford, and
that slight, delicate, shrinking girl was the
last one to whom I should have looked for
patient endurance. But so it was;?she
anffered, and uttered no murmur, though itnearly
broke .'my hpartio &&e4he rose dying
out of her cheeks, and fie^gnre growing
every may imuaty auu s^gutec.
The Winter gave plaoe to the Spring, and
the Spring to the?ummer, and not yet had
my bird of Paradise flown from my arms.
Bnt I heFd her by a slight tenore and I felt
it more than ever, on a bright mid-summer
morning, the anniversary of the day on
which I had first come to Glenthorne.
What a glorious day t^pt was. It seems
when I look baok on it, as if 1 had never
seen one like it, before or sinoe. It was a
day to live in?better still, a<day to die in.
The very blue sky seemed to bend downward,
typing onr Father's infinite mercy;
there was overall the earth a strange brightness
and splendor, and all day Lily and I
sat quietly in the great glory. .Towards
night Lily grew very tired, for it was the
first day she had sat op in many weeks.?
But she seemed mnoh better?so mnch, indeed,
that she walked to the bed, with only
the snpport of' my olasping arm, and lay
there smiling on all around, as if already her
soul had partaken of the riches of Infinite
Love. *
I sat there watohing her, with the sunset
glory in her hair, calling to mind the
day when I saw. her first, and the sudden
love begotten then, which time had only
strengthened. And lo ! as I looked, over her
face there passed a change. It was not a
ghastly or frightful change; nay, it was
strangely lovely. Did yon ever watch, my
dear friend, the shadow of the Death Angel's
wing on the brow of the good and fair ?
If you have you will understand me. My
soul cried out in agony, and my heart ceased
to beat, as mechanically I pulled the bellrope,
and in five minutes a phisioian and a
r. 1 /->? ?-? rv? -? Kw Karlolflo MffflfKoP
WlUl^jflUftU DVUUU UJ VUW WVUUkVlvj
with oar teaohcrs. The one could do nothr
ing, for already was the death-dew heavy on
Lily's brow; and for the other, her pure
spirit had small .peed. *
Lily bade them gpod-bye very gently; and
theu she turned her large, bright eyes on
me.
"Louise, dear Louise," she whispered, as
she clasped my hand^more closely still; "you
have been good to me, darling, and I will
pray God to bless you. I am not afraid,
Louise, for I know Him in whom I have
trusted. My parents wait for me in Heaven?Paul
is there, and I've only you to
to leave; make haste and oome, darling!"
I drew her head to my bosom, and pressed
my lips to her brow; already it was
cold and ohill like marble. A bright smile
passed over her beautiful features, glad and
joyous as if the Infinite Glory'^vere already
illuminating her soul; and then she cried in
a clear, strong voice, though her lips did not
move?"Paul, I am coming 1" It was tho
voice of her soul, and with the last word it
passed away forever.
There is a mound near sweet Glenthorne,
and over it a croea. It is where the. sunbeams
fall pleasantly through* the chesnut
trees, and the wild flowers nod over the
brook-side, and on that cross ta written,
"Lily Dale." I go there every year, at midsummer,
to scatter flowers over the mound;
and in a few more mid-summer day9, I shall
lie down beside her, to go hence no more on
til tbe resurrection.
I know not why I wrote you this sad tale;
but J atp no romance weaver, I mast write
of my own life, and it is a life wbioh has
"more shade than, sun/' Years have passed,
and other hopes and loves have straggled
with tbe old ones and conquered, but
there never has walked another presence?
there never has sounded another voice
through the heart-chamber, where I long
$go shrined sweet Lily Dale.
' Lt. Companion.
Gen. Lee's Orders.
Richmond, Feb. 18.?Gen. Lee ias issued
general orders offering pardon to all
deserters and men improperly absent who
return to their commands, within 20 days
from the publication of this order, at headquarters
of t&9 department in whioh tb9y
may be. No general amnesty will again bo
granted, and those who refase to accept the
pardon dow offered, or snail nercatter desert,
shall suffer such punishment as courts
may impose, and no application for qlemepcy
will be entertained. The order closes
I as follows f
"Taking new resolutions from the fate
' which oar enemies intend for as, let every
man devote all his energies to the ooramon
defence. Our resources wisely and vigorously
employed are ample, and with our
bratfe army sustained by a determined aDd
! united people success with God's assistance
oannot be doubtful. The advantaged of the i
enemy will have but little value if we do not '
permit them to impair oar resolutions. We 1
1 ? A(1nAM?'in ^.(2 I
Q1USC 0pp08C COOBlauujr iutu- i
tade to suffering, ooarage to danger, with a '
| firm assurance that lie who gave freedom to i
| our fathers, will bless the efforts of their <
children to preserve it. j
I A "Wise Boy.?A Western editor late- i
ly called his "devil" to him and told him i
[ he could not afford to hire his services 1
| any longer, unless he would agree to take ]
, nincpenco per week or share equally the 1
profits of the paper. The boy conoluded to
stay, but unhositatingly choso tbo nine- <
peace for his wages. ;
I Great Meeting in Richmond.
The largest and most enthusiastic meet*
ing ever held in Richmond took plaoe last
Thursday in the Afrioan Chtrroh of that
oity- Hon. R. M. T. Hunter, who was one'
of the Commissioners sent by President
Davis to ascertain the feeling and purpose
o? the Lincoln government in reference to
the war, presided, and opened the proceedings
in an address for which we make room
below. A number of other distinguished
gentlemen also spoke: *
Mr. Hunter said : Having called you
to ordor, it is proper that I should explain
the object and purposes of this meeting.?
We gtand here to consider the most momentous
publio issue that ever agitated a;
nation.' One in which is involved the very
life and being of a people, the existence of
their laws and government, their life, liberty
and honor. Whatever is sacred in hu
man affections, or dear to the hearts of men,
is involved in this contest; and may God
grant us the wisdom to devise, and the
pofcer to execute, those measures whioh,
under His hand, shall effeot' oar deliverance
in this great orisis of onr affairs. We are
not responsible for the lives that have been
given np in this contest, and. oar skirts are
clear of the blood whioh have been shed.?
We entered it to maintain the right of
self government-** right which should,
have been as dear to oar enemies as to us.
It is a great American idea?the growth of
American soil?and should, in their eyes,
be as saored as it is to fls. For foar long
years wo have been engaged in a war,* the
like of whioh has not been seen in modern
times; the only approximations to whioh
were the wars of Wallenstein and Attila
and the Thirty Tears' War of Germany;
and now, after those years of waste and
destrnotion, we have been lately#informed
by the President of the Unified States that
there can be no peace exoept opon the conditions
of laying dfown oar arms and absolute
submission; to come in as rebels, and
Bubmit to laws confiscating oar property,
and awarding the death penalty to our citizens.
Nor is this all. We are required
to submit to an amendment, adopted to the
United States Constitution, to turn loose
the thousands of slaves in oar midst, withoat
restraint and without the education
which they would require for self-preservation.
If anything more was wanting to
stir the blood, it was furnished when we
were told that the United States could not
consent to entertain any proposition coming
from us as & people. That Government
whioh makes treaties with the meanest and
weakest of nations, tells us?a nation of
seven millions of men, with arms in their
hands,?that it cannot entertain any proposition
coming from rebels. Even upon the
theory that wo were rebels, upon what authority
could they refuse to treat with us ?
Thgre has been no civil war of any magnitude
whioh has not been terminated by
treating. In 1778, the British Government
sent three commissioners to the rebel colonies,
authorized to treat even with any ^(association
of individuals," and to provide for
a truce. It has been a habit with all strong
governments, after a war is over, and after
it has vindicated its power, to render the
future as little gloomy, and its yoke as easy
to its subjeots, as possiblebut nothing of
this sort comes from tho United States.?
Nothing comes from it to soothe our feelings,
nothing to alleviate tho terms of a
settlement, if it were 'possible for such a
settlement to be made. It would seem possible
that Lincoln might have offered something
to a people with two hundred thou?and
soldiers, and such soldiers [applause]
under arms. Could it be probable, to him,
that we ooald go into the United States
Government as rebol% assuming the responsibility
of all the blood that has been sbed;
confessing that we have kept np a wicked
and uaeleaawar; submitting to laws confi8oating
our property and taking the lives of
our people r It is true, he said, that these
laws would be administered by him in a
spirit of kindness j but when did men ever
give to one man the power over their lives
and their property, and all that they hold
dear, trusting to his spirit of kindness and
divesting themselves of the power to resist
his tyranny ? [Cries of "Never," "never."]
And it is to be remembered, that whenever
we go into the Union as as a conquered
people, we give up the laws of th# United
States, and must take suoh as they choose j
to make for us; and we go in without rep- j
reseutatiou in the making of those laws, for j
Mr. Lincoln told us?told me?that while i
we could send representatives to the Fan- '
kee Congress, yet it rested with that Con- j
gress to say whether they would. repp|yo j
them or not. Thus we would oast every- i
thing away $nd go to them as a subdued, i
subjugated and degraded people, to be held |
in subjection by their soldiery.
Nor is all told yet. More than 3,000,000
slaves are to be let loose and $1,500,000,T
000 worth of property, destroyed at one fell
swoop. These slaves are to wander about
and become the laizaroni of the land. The
Congress would be conrartitly interfering ]
between the white and black man. The .
laws wonld be made by a Congress hostile
to us, and any attempt to make these thrift- {
loss wanderers useful woufd bo interfered
?TC J - ? iU a a1,1 ilnwornmanf f haxr
WHO. Xij UUUCl bug uiu uufwiui?vu?j
interfered with our domestio institutions, j
what would become of us if we were help- ^
less in their hands holding the power to arbitrate
in all questions concerning us. They
would raise questions about the State laws,
and soon sweep away any barrier we might ^
areot for the protection of social order and
industry in our midst But, fellow-oitizcns,
[ will not attempt now to draw a picture of j
subjugation which must loom up before the
jyes of every man who oonsiders it. It
would requite a penoil dipped in blood to p
paint its gloom. I pass this to the ques- ^
tion of what is to become of the slaves? t
We know that in large districts of our ii
country the men have been taken away by 0
them and women left. Who is to support Q
them? Under oar system tney were provided
for end happy, under their system
they most perish. That .system will destroy
the whole negro race in this1 country.
In the fieroe competition for food between <
the white and the negro, the latter will be
blasted like human life before the bnrning
sirocco, and vanish like the mist before the
sun., We drew the sword not for ourselves
alone, but also for his sake, and the world,:
which stands ooldly looking on, will find
that the men whom they have excluded
from their sympathy .are the hope of the
black race. It was tbe exolamation ot a
celebrated French woman, "Oh, Liberty,'
what crimes are committed in thy name!"
and we may parody^by exclaiming, "Oh,
Philanthropy,, how mnoh misery is caused
in thy name !" Well may the .negro rise
np'and pronounce judgment against it.?,
Fellow citizens, I have presented'the Future
we are to endure if we are VeducCdto submission.
>
I turn now to what we are to gain with !
.our sucoess?Independence, Liberty, our
women and children?everything dear ,to
man. [Wild cheering.] * Nay, mo/e than,
this: we will oover the name of our ootratry
with glory?glory sftch as was navar
known before. I venture to say that (here
was never sneh a contest, and never such
glory, as we may win from it. We have
the world against us. It has beep said that
its parallel may be found in the Dutoh Republic;
bat they had tbe'sea open to them
and the French and English as allies. Our
forefather had the French to aid them
We stand alpne, presenting the speotaole of
a brave people, oon testing, foot by foot,
with double their numbers ; exelnded, commercially
ami sentimentally, from the
world.
Property t throw out of consideration.
What is it to us ? If We fail, it will be in
the hands of a ruthless foe, who spares
nothing. I trust and believe in the suocesa
of our cause. If our people exhibit
the proper spirit, they will bring forth thp
deserters from their caves; and tbe skulkers
?A voice?"Give it to 'em"], who a$e
avoiding the perils of the field, will go forth
to share the dangers of their countrymen.
[Applause.] Iu war, as iq religion, we
must have works as well as faith. The
mau who desponds is half whipped. [Applause.]
We must have faith in the deter
mioation of our country to snner an ana ao
all. If we determine upon (hat, 1 do not
see why we cannot win our independence.
In this spirit, a Frenoh general ordered the
sounding of the Marsellaise, which changed
a rout into a viotory. In this spirit, the
anoients consulted the bodies of their animals
they sacrificed. In this spirit, the
Boman Emperor, accepted the vision of the
cross in the sky. I do have faith; I do
not see, but I feel, that there is a righteous
God in Heaven, who holds our destinies in
His hand, and I do pqt believe He will allow
us to be oast down and the wicked to
prosper. [Applause.] I believe, with the,
help of Providence, that that army which
stands as a triple wall of steel between us
and subjugation will eventually win. [A,
voice?"That's so."] It is time for ojjoak?
ers to hu3h. To despond, is weakness.'
Pay of Six Months' Troops.
C. P. Pelham : Dear Sir: If the information
contained in the accompanying correspondence
has not already been made publio,
you will oonfor a favor upon many persons
by publishing the -same, or stating its
substance. Very respectfully, I
JAS. FARROW.
Confederate States of America,
Quartermaster General's Office,
Pay BubeaTT,
Richmond,. Feb. 6,186*5.v
Hon. Mr. Farrow,
House of Representatives:
Sir: The enclosed copy of a letter addressed
to Mr. John T. Lowry, on 23d alt.,
fiiiinialiAfl f Vi o iP.A\?>?nA^iAn 1M V* t n
luiuioucD vuo tuiuiuiaviuu ouu^uk iui iu uia
letter to you of 24th January, referred to
this office. Very respectfplly. <
Tour ob't serv't,'
[Signed,] C. J. LfilGH,
Capt. & A. Q. M. for Q. M. Gen'I.
[copy.]
Pay Bureau,
Q. M. Gen'l's Office,
* Richmond, Jan'y 23. 1865.
Mb. Jno. T. Lowbt, YorkviUe. S. C:
Sir: In answer to yonr letter pf the 14th
inst., with regard to the payment of the regiments
of six months' troops, organized in
South Carolina, nnder the call of the Pre- 1
sident, for service rendered from Sept. 11th, ;
1863, to Feb'y 6th, 1864,1 have to say, that ;
If the master rolls, properly made oat' are ;
plaoed in the hands of Maj. E. A. Deslonde,
Q. M., and daly authenticated powers of i
attorney are presented to him, he will pay ;
the amounts doe. !
I &m, very, respectfully,
Tour ob't serv't, s
[Signed,] v C. J. LEIGH, '
Capt. & A. Q. M.for Q. M. Gen'I. (
? ?? '
Gen Terry's Treatment of Ren- i
mi /I 1 J_l T
EOADES. xne UUlQBOOro O?ue Ki/itf??t
innounces the flight of a Mr. Swain to the c
ifankees, and states, on information receiv- 1
id, that he applied to Gen. Terry fur protec- {
ion on the ground that he has always been
l Union man, and had" managed, under one ?
jretence and another, to etade service in s
he armies of the Confederate States. Gefl.
Perry, who seems to be a practical Yankee, r
eplied that he had no speoial use, except (
me, fpr men who where too cowardly to
tand up for their country, right or wrong, r
rhon invaded, and that was to give t&em a v
uskot and make them fight. Mr. Swain e
?aa accordingly placed in the ranks of the
federal army.- U
J86F* A correspondent pronounces railroads ^
Feat of the Alabama river to bp nuisancer r
Vhcn yon get on a train, you have no cerainty
of living ten minutes.?It is like gong
into battld. The rule always is to run. p
if the track, and the exception is to keep it
n it. | u
AXVXU
- We are indebted to the editor of the
Winnsboro "NewB" for the following
incidents connected with the occupation
1 of that town by the enemy :
The main army was preceded by a
body of "Bummers;" as tney call themselves,
who rode into town Shelterskelter,
and proceeded to ransack public
aqd private property. *, A few hours
afterwards, the 20th coi^s,:under.j9en?
Gary made its appearance,'., stationed
guards in and aroua-the town iihcl re-established
order: The 17th, Gfen. BlUfr,
followed and-passed through, baadarin
j fullblaatj Colora flying and men cheering.
Persons standing on the side walks
were unmolested, and no personal insult
was offered. This wis on Tuesday.
Tka nth. Mitna. r?f tHe TVda 1; armv
occupied portion* to^the right anri.hrft
of. Winnsboro. The burning of stores
and the bugptss portion of thptown
took place on Tuesday ahdTWednea^ay.
-Between eightn an d' 4eir etoree* 'were
burned the finit daf, and on themoondi
the-torchir^a
dwelling housew>n Main etreet-^pfobar
bly ten or eleven in number, latter
were occupied: !ftie 'mansiohs' of
Robertson, Esq., Qffillarff,
Hon. Wi Em Boylston, Col. tonga ?Bf
Aikin, Col. Aug. JDr. WiUiw
Aikin, J- Aikin, Mrs. J^mes Rion, J.
B. MoCadts and. someotlterc,were, not
destroyed. *The pillaging'' 'was* done
principally before" the arrival of thi
main army and was JOtitaMthgnaed or
permitted. As an, instance, of throne
: soldier stole a half-baked loaf from the
oven of our friend, the editor, but while
making off with his pastry, the man Was mat
Kir o ftanavaVWm i-nmixiTM ViiTT> tn
UAVV *Jj . %m if ? -return
his plifnder fiorne kitchen, wl^ich
he did. Spoons, monby, prov^ittos and
private clothing were'-ull, to use amex>
pressive but inelegant, phrase, incontinently
"gobbled vip"irM*thq^4bf?r
iners," and personal prejerte disposed
of in that'hasty manner which betokened
practiced adroitness fcftfce business.
One of these gentry 4&4 th$bfed tXSte
to take a new winter bonnet ftom/a la*
dy ana fill it with dried apples?-the sacrilegious,
villian. hUy > they swell on
his cerulean stomach. We-congratulate
our neighbor' Britten, that ,Tthoy
merely "looked in" on him andifisiiwfspaper
establishment , without .disturbing |
a single case^ or pi-ingn form/ . ^ ^ .
The conversation of ihe Yankees was
generally kind,'and- indicted respect.
Some of the^'Confesse'd fhatthey nevelr
expected to whip the "Johnnies^, in
fight, or conquer a p^ace by theforce
o'f arms, and that the only way to subjugate
was to rob us of all we ha'd. The
majority were Western' men. " In-two
or three instances foreign flags were
hoisted, but they affoi^dless protection
than-none at aU-4he bunding being torn
down and trampled under foot: .. ,
On leaving the town the Federals
maPched to J&lfcckStodks,bearing 'tipple
railroad and burning dwellings by thB
way. The manner of destroying the
rails, was td lfeat the iron and thenofend
it several times around a tree. Four
miles of track this side of the Fourrmile
house were left untouched, together
with some other sections of the road.
An attempt was made to intercept telegrams
but it failed. On reaching Blackstocks
a skirmish with our oa^valry took
place, and the enemy then branched off
towards the river on a direct route for
Camden. The strength of
army is not belierecbby those, who had
an opportunity of^ making an 'average
of its numbers, to be" greateMhan^for- .
ty thousand. - ^
*.
" Confederate Congress.
Richmond, Feb.* 28^?The Souse
" ?' r* * 'ii . i 1 - .t
passed tne senate dlu. estaopgmng.znc
flag of the Confederate States. Also,
a bill establishing a .system , of filling
vacancies occurring in t?e several grades
of commissioned officer* in the*aany.
The bill provides for nominations aqd
assignment when the nominations are
approved by the Generals commanding.
The resolution 'expelling. ffoote ttts
adopted?yeas 13, nays tAntr. - A
The House in secret aesmon ' passed
the bill authorizing the employment of
negro troops?yeas 40, nays 37., dfhe
bill authorizes the President to ask for
and accept from owners of slaves the
services of such number of able hndied
negro men as he may deem mqpedigat
for and during the War, to'perforip military
service in whatever capacity may
be necessary. If a sufficient nStpber of
troops are not raised by r this call, the *
President may call on each State for
Its quota of three hundred thousand.-^- .
Nothing in the act to be construed jo
mthorize any change in the relation
svhich said slaves shall bear ^towards
their owners as property, except by consent
of their owners, and the States in
ivhich they may reside.
The Senate bill abolishing the office
>f Provost Marshal, except within the
ines of the armies, was amended and
)assed.
The Senate bill requiring male refugees
to perform military duty in the reeryeforce
was passed. *.'"j
The Senate bill authorizing the secetary
of War to negotiate with.the
xovernorsof the several States for the
uriployment of slave labor, with the armies
in the field, upon fortifications, &.c.,
ras amended and passed?yeas 45,
iays 9.
The Senate passed the bill to continl6
in force until July, 1866, the act to
acrease the compensation of non-comlissioned
officers and privates in the
ray of the Confederate States.
Fob Burns.?Apply oottton wool dip?<5
in nil onnn Qfl nnwdble. and keen fill
CV *M w?? - BWVU ww / r ?fSI
; on till the fire is entirely oat,? which will
su&lly take from two daye-to k'w4tlik. |S
B
. -