Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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^v LEWI?ro^i'e?RIST'| In fnkgtntoni Jfatniif fUfospaptr: Jor % ftomofkm of % political, Scrcial, Agricultural anir Cmrnturrial fniensfs of % Smd|. ' 1 ' ' ' 1 * '' ATOIJ. 13. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JULY 4, 1867. 3STO. lO. 1 i- ,- : : ' ~ t ~ T r 1. mmrn+m~m ^ " ' f" - . .it 't7 j&Jrrtrd ^forg. 1 A MINER'S LOVE STORY Nelly Glover was the prettiest lass in the pit vil lage. Her eyes were of the sweetest blue ; he: cheeks were like a rose; and you might have thought her brown hair was the finest silk. Thei she had a figure like a fairy, it was so trim; anc with a waist you oould almost span. I loved Nel ly, but as for that, all the chaps of the village wen of the same mind, and she might have had hei pick of us; the worst of it was, she treated us al alike, and wouldn't look at one more than another, She had a smile for everybody, and was alwayi good tempered, but there it ended; and, somehow none of us could screw up courage to try her for ther. I don't know how often I thought it over, It came into my head the first thing in the morning, and there it remained the last thing at night, it. oithw Vent me awake or haunted my dreams. At last it took possession of me. No matter where I was, digging, or blasting, or tunneling; above ground, or down in the pit; mj thoughts turned on Nelly, and from being the merriest fellow in the village, I just came to be the dullest. One morning there was no work in the pit for my gang, because the viewer wanted that part of the seam shored up, and it struck me, al] i at once, that I would have it out with Nelly, so 1 made myself smart, and set out wz Iking as brisk as if it was a wager. Yon may think it conceit in me, but I can say that I was then rs clever a chap to look at as you would often see. and I knew it 1 For all that, I began to walk a bit slower when ] caught sight of Mrs. Glover's cottage, and I felt of my heart But I went on, and I just got up to the cottage when who should oome out but Nelly herself. She never looked prettier than at thjit minute ; but appearing so suddenly, she dashed my spirit and I hadn't a word to say to her. "Why, Charley, what is the matter?" she cried, in a frighted sort of way. "Well, it is just this," I said. And there I stopped. "Is anything wrong with Jack?" she cried auicklv. ""Jack?" "Yes, he is down in the pit; they say it is foul, which makes mother and me uneasy. You hav'nt heard anything?" And she looked in my eyes as if she would search me through. "No, no," I answered, steadying, now that I thought I could comfort her. "He is all right? You musn' t mind what the old women of the village say, or you'll be looking for a blow-up every I day in the year, when there is nothing more than common. I haven't oome to you about Jack, Nelly; it is about myself." She gave me another look, now; then her oheel flushed up like a flame, and her eyes turned away. "Do you know what I want to say, Nelly?" 1 went on. "I wish you did, for I can't tell it It is more than I have got words for. How I love you, how you are always before me, how I am crazed, and mad about you! But though I can't say all I want to, here I stand, and I wouldn't change with a king, if you'll take me as I am!" "Ah, Charlie! you don't know how you pain me," she answered. "Don't say that, Nelly. I doubted about speaking to you, but now that I have done it, now that I can't go on deceiving myself, if you have any pity in your heart, show it to me, and I will cherish you to the day of my death." "It is no use," she replied, "I can never many a pitman. I gave the promise to mother and Jack, when we .walked up to the village at the funeral of inv father and brothers, all three killed in the mine?our great sorrow, which I can never think of without crying." And the tears, it is true, were running down het cheeks, though, for the moment, she seemed to me to be harder than stone. And I seemed turned to stone myself. I had no recollection, no feeling, J and no sense, and I couldn't have moved a step to have saved my life. Then it all flashed upon me like lightning. I took a last look at Nelly, dropped my head upon my breast, and without a word more, walked out of the gate. Our village seldom looked bright, no matter how the sun shone, and now I felt as if the sun would never shine again for me, so, as my eye fell on the line of cottages, with theclouds hanging down from above, and nothing round but a waste, I though) I might as well be in my grave as continue to live there. Besides I should always be meeting Nelly, perhaps lurking about her mother's cottage, and making her as miserable as myself. Why shouldn't I go away, to Yorkshire, or Derbyshire, or to the diggings in Australia, for that matter? The no tion, if it was good for nothing more, gave me ? little more spirit It turned my thoughts, and ] stepped out quicker, going straight home. I hadn't much to settle there, only to bid good-bye to the folks I lived with, and I came out, pack on back, and began my tramp. I stopped at the moor, and looked back, remembering I might never see the place again, and, dismal as I now thought it, with its gaping walls and shaken roofs encumbering the blackened ground, ] had been happy there. Not one cf these cottages W but would open its door to me; not one where I \ wouldn't meet a friend. And there I had beer > born; it was the spot on earth that, even in that hour of bitterness, I loved best, and I didn't turr away without dashing my hand across my eyes. I was walking on, when suddenly the air rang with a crash that shook the ground. 1 knew what it signified; such sounds denoted but one result ir the black country, and throwing down my pack, 1 darted off to tho spot, with the feelings that ani mate every miner on such occasions. It didn't seem a minute before I came to th< dust-heaps round the pit's mouth, but some wen there before me, and the off men and the womei were rushing up from the village in a stream. Th< smell from the pit almost knocked me down as ] came up, and I had to get my breath a little, whei three or four of us crept up to the mouth, anc looked down. The explosion had destroyed tn< cage, not leaving a stick of it, but it had not in jured the signal rope; hence a means of communi cation remained for any one immediately below. A soon as I saw this I set to work to rig a cross bar ( and presently had it ready, k "Just lower me gently," I said to two banks w men. "I may pick up one or two, if there's an; near." "You can't go down yet!" cried the viewer., "How many are in tht pit?" "Half an hour ago there were fifty," replied th< time-keeper; "but, I am thankful to say, they al came up but ten." "And they are all lost," said the viewer, "fo: there will be another explosion directly." "I'D go down, anyhow," I said doggedly; "an( if nobody wiD lower me, I'D jump down." A good many were on the heap now?men anc women?some of the women crying and some pray ing; but when I spoke out that way there was j dead silence. Then two or three called out,' 'Goo< bye, Charley, God bless you, brave lad." Th banksmen lowered me down, and I sank througl the pit's mouth. A Davy lamp was tied aroun< my waist, and I held a rope in my hand, so tha I might signal to be hoisted up if the air becam too fouL But I had no intention of going bac! till I had searched the pit, and seen if any wer alive. One thing, I didn't care about my life; an 1 another, I would have been ashamed to face th i folks above without doing something; so I felt impatient that they lowered me at such a snail's pace, ; and I kept looking up and down to measure the distance yet to be traversed. The shaft had never seemed so deep to me before. I strained my eyes . into darkness below, and saw no bottom; I glanced r up, and the gleam of light grew smaller. I scan> ned the walls of the shaft, and marked only their , black bound. But my progress was notified by the [ increasing density of the air, which began to affect . my breathing; and, as I went on, I had to shift my 5 face from side to side to make a little current At r last my feet touched the ground. I I looked around as I jumped off the straddle, , and saw the furnace was out, which put a stop to 3 the ventilation of the mine, as far as it depended , on the brattices, and no air entered but by the . shaft. The stench was overpowering, and from , this and the silence, I guessed the worst It was . plain that the explosion had killed the horses; for not a sound came from the stable, which was olose r to the shaft; and what hope could there be for hu ) man beings in a distant part of the pit ? Yon may . be sure I didn't stand to make these reflections; r thifey floated across me, and I was working forward, . before they got through my mind. I knew the old i mine blindfolded; but what with foul smell and the i deep gloom, I was some minutes scrambling to the ; top of the incline, keeping my arms stretched out 1 as I went along, to feel for anything in the way.? ; And it was lucky I did, or I should have dashed : my head against some empty trucks, and in the i state I was in, that would have finished me. Thus i I reached the first gallery, which you could only enter stooping. I pushed open the trap door, and ; went on a few steps, though my Davy lamp was i what pitmen call "afire"?the flame all being blue i ?and I knew the air was so much gunpowder.? But I stumbled along; if I wasn't to save any one, it didn't matter what became of myself, and I pleased myself with the thought that Nelly would hear I had died in the attempt. And then, all at once, it came into my head what she had said about her brother Jack being in the pit This gave my heart such a turn that I staggered, and the perspiration poured from my forehead like water. I rushed forward as if I was mad; my foot struck something; I bent down over what seemed to be a corpse, and the gleam of the lamp fell on its face. It was Jack Glover. I didn't know whether he was alive or dead, but I caught him in my arms, and with the strength of a giant and the speed of a deer?hardly conscious, hardly breathing?I made o /)ooTk fnr tlio ahafV U VHW3H AV& VUV UUIMVi It was easier work going back, when you were once in the main or horse road; for now the shaft was before you, instead of behind; and though you i wouldn't think it, this made a wonderful difference in the light Dark as pitch it still was, though not to pitman's eyes, and I had found out that ; Jack breathed when I reached the shaft. The discovery nerved me afresh, and kept all my senses at ; work without my seeming to know it I only felt ; there soon would be&nother explosion. So I placed i Jack on the straddle, and taking the rope from my i Davy lamp, tied him hand and foot, then pulled ; the signal rope, and as ihe people above hauled ; the tackle and lifted the straddle from the ground, I hung on by my arms; thus we began to mount , the shaft. It wasn't till we had got twenty feet up that I . felt the strain of standing on nothing, but, from ; that moment, it became just terrible. My hands seemed ready to snap; the ache in my arms spread . through every muscle; my head spun around; my feet kicked about in agony. I watched the mouth - of the pit till my eyes swam, and as I reckoned the space between my strength waned and my misery deepened, I thought I must drop before I reached s the top. Then they began to hoist faster. 1 mustered all my strength; I tightened my grip of the straddle, though my fingers were growing numb; I steadied my feet, and hardly trusted myself to i breathe. I could feel the purer air; I heard i voices; and presently the tackle swung; strong arms caught me round, and I was landed on the i bank. . They had Jack Glover off the straddle before . you could look round, and he was carried away, [ while they raised my head and poured a little brandy in my mouth. I called out for the viewer. "What is it, Charley Batson ?" he asked, bend1 ingoverme. ( "Everybody away from the pit, sir," I said, i "You are right," he answered; it will come in a t minute or two. i They got me to the top of the bank, when I heard i a scream and there was Nelly, trying to throw herl self on her brother Jack, but kept back by theotht er women. She never glanced round at me 1 I s wished then that I had stopped in the pit, or let myself drop from the bar, as I came up, and so esi caped seeing her again. But I made up my mind [ that I had looked on her for the last time. I told t my helpers that I could walk now, and when they s let go my arms, I turned towards the moor, intend, ing to pick up my pack, and drag on at least to the next village. But I could no more walk five miles than I could fly. When I came to the pack I sank down by it i and felt that I must give up. I was so heated, that ! I thought there was now another explosion at the i Dit as I exDected, and though it shook the ground under me, I didn't lift my head. All I thought of i was stretching out my arms and legs &nd lying ; quiet. How long I lay there I never knew. But i by degrees I recovered a little strength, and my thoughts took more shape, when I decided to re; turn to my old lodgings and have a day's rest be; fore I set out on my wanderings, i The day passed and the night, and the next day, [ I was still in bed, the good people tending me like - a child. My limbs which had been racked with pain, now felt easy, and I was ready for a start a? gain. But I thought there would be opposition, ? so I got up very quiet, and was putting on my x things, when the room door opened, and to my j wonder, in came Jack Glover. [ "Halloo, Charlie, here we are," he cried, seizing 1 my hand and giving it a hearty squeeze. "Who 1 would have thought of us two being alive to-day ?" } "Well, Jack," I answered, "I am glad for you, - but I shouldn't have cared for myself." "How's that?" he asked, s "Because I have something on my mind." , "You 1" he said, laughingly, and giving me a little push. "Here, sit down and have a pipe, and - it will all go off like the smoke." Y "I don't care if I never smoke a pipe again," I said, savagely. "Now, I'll tell you what it is," said Jack; "you have been having a tiff with our Nelly." 2 "I havn't," I answered, my cheek burning. 1 "Well, you know best about that," continued Jack; "but it's what I guess, because you were r seen talking with her, and she had a crying fit directly after. And when she heard from me that it 1 was you that brought me up from the pit, she fell on my neck and fainted.'' ' slip I-now it before ?'' I asked, relenting. - * "No." i "Then, I'll just tell fou. all about her and me," 1 I said. e I was a long time telling it, but Jack sat up as i if he was listening to a play, or a sermon at chapel. 1 I gave him a description of Nelly that would have t done for the Hue and Cry; went into all the feele ings she had raised in my breast, told him how I k had watched for her, thought of her, hnd dreampt e of her, and, finally, recounted our last colloquy.? i Jack never moved a muscle, and not till I stopped e for breath, did he put in a word. "Don't you think you've been a little too fast, Charlie ?" he then said, dubiously. "How-do you mean ?" I inquired. "Why, in giving up so. Suppose, when Nelly said she couldn't have you; you had put your arm round her waist, and said she must!" This view had never struok me, and rather took me back. "But there was her promise to you and her mother never to marry a pitman," I urged. "So there was. But id you never hear that promises were made to be broken ?" "I can't say but I have," I muttered, clapping on my hat. "Where are you going?" asked Jack. "You wait here a minute," I replied. With that I took two strides down the stairs into the road, and hurried off to Mrs. Glover's oottage. I stood outside, when I opened the door, and the first thing I saw was Nelly, sitting by her mother, and looking like a ghost?only ghosts never look pretty. She gave me one look, then started up and sprang into my arms. My heart was so full I AAIIUMU flWAftb At Kilt T fllAllffllt T nl h /IA WlllUU t ail UlOV] H/UV M. UlUUgUV *. Oil WV wv something, so I slipped my arm around her waist, as Jack recommended. Now I felt sure of her, and of all the happiness that the world could give, and, as my breast swelled proudly, I began to bear a little malice. "Ah, Nelly, if you had only loved me 1" I said. Nelly tightened her arm around my neck. "How happy we might have been!" I continued. "Then we can be, Charley!" she murmured. "Then, Nelly! We can never marry, you know." The little fingers unlocked, and I felt Nelly falling away ; but I remembered Jack's oounsel, and held her by the waist "There's your promise to yourmotherand Jack," I continued, "how are we to get over that ?" "I forgot that," faltered Nelly, as white as a sheet "And what do you say to it, mother," I cried to the old lady. Mrs. Glover got up, and took Nelly's hand and put it in mine. "That's what I say to it," she 6aid heartily; "and I know Jack is of the same mind." "And this is what I say to it," I cried, giving Nelly a kiss. Yeu won't be surprised to hear that we were married the next week. And now I am the viewer of the colliery: and as for Nelly, she will tell you that, though she has married a pitman, and has her roughs and smooths, like other women, there is no happier woman in the kingdom. {gMtawnt* JMiftas. From the Southern Opinion. MEMORABLE POINTS OF RICHMOND. LIBBY PRISON. No institution of the Confederacy obtained such notoriety during the war as the Libby Prison, corner Cary and Twentieth streets. The main reservoir for all the Federal prisoners taken in the South, at times its walls contained as many as four thousand, and in all, not less than one hundred and twenty thousand prisoners of war were received and recorded here during the years of hostilities. The structure stands now as it stood then, its many windows looking vacantly upon the placid river in the rear, and the busy street in front, wrapped in a "brown study." But the glory and terror of the Libby have alike departed. Its floors no more re-echo to the tramp, tramp of the prisoners overhead. The human faces that swarmed at the windows are all gone, and the guard has been relieved for the last time. The immense rooms are vacant and silent, disturbed only by the rush and scamper of the rats that plunge and dart into their holes. The cell doors are ajar?their late inmates condemned, gone to the execution ground and their graves. On the night of the 9th of February, 1864, Col. Streight and a large number of officers confined here, escaped by means of the most scientific piece of tunneling on record. Its accomplishment was the work of months, prosecuted at night, usually after the hour of midnight The opening of the tunnel sprang from the east basement wall, ten feet below the bed of the street It was so contracted in its diameter?only sufficient to admit the body of a man?that only two prisoners could work at the tunnel at the same time, one digging forward, his only tool a sugar scoop, his comrade hauling back the loosened earth in an army satchel hv menns nf a string attachment I The tunnel extended about sixty feet across the street, and broke above the surface in the lumber yard opposite, where the tunnelers resurrected themselves into star light and freedom. That night the sentinels paced their posts as usual, and shouted at intervals, "All'swell!" The opening in the prison wall, which involved the removal of heavy stone masonry, has been closed up, but the mouth of the tunnel that opened and let out the prisoners remains. When the Federal raider, Col. Dahlgren?he of the torch, turpentine and oakum ball?was cavorting around Richmond, the Libby was mined in the basement Much comment has been occasioned by the act, and it was never clearly understood why it was done, or by whose order. The object of placing the powder there surely was not the blowing into eternity of several hundred helpless prisoners, in case their recapture or release was inevitable ; but rather that a knowledge of the fact that the prison was mined, freely communicated to them, might overawe and deter them from an attempt at revolt and escape, in the event of the raiders getting into the city. True it is, nevertheless, that the mine was sunk?a square hole in the earth, four feet deep, and directly under that part of the prison occupied by the prisoners. A train was laid, and led some distance, and a sentinel paced constantly about the magazine?preventr ing all approach thereto and answering no questions. When the danger was past, the powder was removed, in the night, as secretly as it had been placed there. No executions took place at the Libby during the war, but since its close several murderers have been hanged here by the military authorities. Thetrap in the third floor, originally constructed for the hoisting and lowering of hogsheads of tobacco, furnished a gallows ready to hand. These executions were private. We reckon there are at this day a hundred thousand men, alive and scattered throughout the Northern States, who, at one time or another, were inmates of the Libby, prisoners of war. How multiform and various must be their memories of this place! Their long months of confinement, the monotonous return of roll call, ration serving and sentinel tramping. The sunbeams of peace ; fall upon the river?rest upon these walls again.? I A prison no more; wide open and inviting stand the doors?not closed, repulsive and guarded. The hospital ward, once filled with groaning, dying men; the dead house that received their remains are re-transformed into busy offices of trade transactions; and these expansive floors, that lately i creaked beneath the heavy tramp of men, now groan beneath the weight of commercial staples. ! The Libby is again devoted to the uses for which it was constructed in the golden days ante beRum, and reconverted from the sanguinary uses of war, i it is once more an emporium of the trade of Rich mond. 1 CASTLE THUNDER. One square removed from the Libby, on the suae street, looms Castle Thunder?'Castle Thunder no more. Like the Libby to1 the Yankee, terrible indeed was the Castle to the hundreds of ring Confederates, deserters and transgressors of anny regulations. Plunged within these walls, they underwent the purgatorial season $ punishment, and the infliction of the pains an& penalties that were presumed to fit them for the l&ftks, 'the camp and the field again. Here, upon, thiB npper ffoor, shut in by thick walls that deadened the sonnds of their cries, were practiced upon Confederate soldiers all manner of cruelties. "Bucking," "gagging," branding and scouring, tieing up by the thumbs, were some of the modes of punishment rtisorted to by Alexander?the Hayneau of the Confederate war. When any one under the scourge of the "leather strap" foiled to cry out and plead for mercy, his instructions to Caphart, the executioner, were, "Lay it on 1 Harder! Harder, I say!" ' ;* John Caphart, the executioner of all these brutal mandates, was also hangman, and officiated at the hiinging of the several spies and murderers executed under military law during the war. He was a cliaracter. His heart was as devoid of sympathy as a stone. In appearance he was patriarchal: long, flowing, dirty-white beard; cold, lustreless, % * < .1 *!_ cruel eyes, unusea to tears; a mourn everiouiwiin blasphemy and tobacco. To inflict pain was his mission, and he delighted in his mission, which delight was at no moment more manifest than when employed in laying the "strap" upon the stripped loins of some unfortunate Confederate deserter, or adjusting the noose about the neck of the wretch condemned to die. Caphart, himself, died suddenly soon after the evacuation of Richmond; and it is said his perturbed ghost has been seen about the Castle on moonlight nights, the "strap" in one hand, and the hangman's noose in the other. God shrive his soul! The dog Hero, a gigantic Russian blood-hound, w;is a terrible canine adjunct of the Castle. Most incredible stories are told of his sagacity; how he stjod sentinel, and seized and throttled escaping prisoners, or gave the alarm when an emeute was in progress. Hero had the range and freedom of the Castle, and like his master, the Commandant, showed his double stockade of teeth when the least provoked. He drew daily rations, much better than the prisoners obtained, and we are not sure bu t that he drew pay too like his master. Evacuation morn, Hero deserted and joined the enemy, or was stolen away ; and when lost heard from, Hero was being exhibited North, a hero indeed. The Castle originally was, and is now again a tobacco factory, owned and occupied by Messrs. Gi*eanor & Sons. The grim paraphernalia of a military prison, with all its traces, have been removed, and the weed, that is symbolical of contentment and solace, and fills the typical calumet of peace, encumbers every floor in the various process of manufacture. The "sweat cells," where refraoto.ry and unmanageable prisoners were put through the horrors of solitary confinement, are now the sweat houses for the preparation of the tobacco ? * * . i i l t no, _ leat. ADout one nunarca ana nny negroes arc employed in the factory, and when the writer of these reminiscences visited the place, the strong chorus of their voices was swelling in a happy song, that sounded above the din of their labor and the clack of the machinery. CAMP (EE. The Conscript Camp of Instruction, has dcgenerared into a freedmen's hamlet, and there is little about it now to recall to the mind the appearance of the "Conscript pen" in Confederate times. But we opine that thousands of our male readers will need no picturesque description of the spot, to have brought back, vividly to their memories, Camp Lee and its surroundings, where they first learned, in the practice of Hardee's Tactics, the mysteries of the manual of arms. The high plank enclosure of the Camp is swept away?gone to make firewood for the freedmen. The Post Commandant's quarters and barracks look woe-begone and dilapidated enough. Like black snakes, warmed into life by the breath of spring, a woolly head protrudes from each door and window, and troops of piccaninnies swarm the parade ground. To the west of the main entrance, distant about one hundred yards, marked by a clum p of trees, is the old execution ground, where Confederate deserters, condemned to be "shot to death with musketry," died at the musket's muzzle. Here, where the sod is barren of verdure, stood the firing squad; there, where the grass springs rich and verdant, nourished by their blood, knelt the condemned, blindfolded. The laws of war are inexorable; they are the same world over. But oh! the inexpressible, the indescribable anguish of death, the measureless preciousness of life when it approaches a close. The sunbeams, how bright; the skies, how blue; the ? * A mi i i world, now lair, mere may nave Deen, suiuug those who looked into those musket muzzles, facing death, those who were innocent, those who were wiongfully condemned; but from their lips, parted in prayer, there came no words of reproach and rebuke. They died, they are buried; that is all. Nigher the entrance, and south of the buildings, on the low plat, is the parade ground. Here stood the gallows, upon which died several spies and murderers. Everything pertaining to the engine of death has disappeared, and even the posts have been whittled down piecemeal, and carried away by grim souvenir hunters. CUT THI8 OUT. The Mercantile Times gives the following seasonable rules for young men commencing business: The world estimates men by their success in life ?and, by general consent, success is evidence of superiority. Never, under any circumstances, assume a responsibility you can avoid consistently with your duty to yourselves and others. Base all your actions upon a principle of right; preserve your integrity of character, and in doing this, never reckon the cost 'Remember that self-interest is more likely to warp your judgment than all other circumstances combined; therefore, look well to your duty, when your interest is concerned. Never make money at the expense of your rep illation. Be neither lavish nor niggardly; of the two, avoid the latter. A mean man is universally despised, but public favor is a stepping stone to prefennent?therefore generous feelings should be cultivated. Say but little?think much?and do more, Let your expenses be such as to leave a balance in yonr pocket. Ready money is a friend in need. Keep clear of the law; for even if you gain your case, you are generally a loser of money. Avoid borrowing and lending. Wine drinking and cigar-smoking are bad habits. They impair the mind and pocket, and lead to a waste of time. A Wife.?When a man of sense comes to marry it is a companion whom he seeks, not an artist It is not merely a creature who can paint, and play, and sing, and dance. It is a being who can comfort and counsel him; one who can reason and reflect, and feel-and judge, and discourse and discriminate; one who can assist him in his affairs, lighten his sorrow, purify his joys, strengthen his principles, and educate his children. Such is the woman who is fit for a mother and the mistress of a family. A woman of the former description may occasionally figure in a drawing room, and excits the admiration of the company, but is entirely unfit for a helpmate to a man, and to train up a child in the way it should go. GEN. LEE AND STONEWALL JACKSON. Mr. William Swinton, well known a8 a writer of great descriptive powers, and as the author of two or three most valuable and interesting books, has 'commenced a tour through the South as the correspondent of the New York Times. The following we take from the first of his letters: ! INTERVIEW AND CONVERSATION WITH GEN. LEE. Having made a somewhat dose study of the campaigns of Gen. Lee, and having, besides, followed wkh interest his operations on the actual field of battle, I had long been desirous of learning by personal sight and converse, what manner of man he is. The proffer of an introduction by a personal friend enabled me to gratify this wish; and after breakfast we repaired to the residence of the chieftain of the Army of Northern Virginia. It stands on College Hill, and is a modest brick dwelling with white wooden pillars in front, placed amid a pretty garden, shaded by some fine trees and a huge solitary weeping willow. The house is surrounded by a high fern hedge that lends it somewhat the air of aristocratic seclusion. Although it was no later than nine in the morning, Gen. Lee had already gone to his office in the college, which is but a stone's throw removed. Here was a table piled up with papers and college catalogues and textbooks; but no reminiscence of war was visible, no sword, or snur. or insignia. What ever met the eye was entirely academic, not in the least military. And seated at the table was a handsome-looking gentleman, dressed in a uniform suit of pepper-and-salt color?a very portly, well prewired gentleman, of some four and fifty, with a fine bronzed complexion, a nobly-modeled nose, compact head, gray hair, and beard of the same color, closely cropped?who rose to shake hands in a courtly, gracious manner. It was the man who wielded the thunders of Chanccllorsville and the Chickahominy?it was President Lee. With the putting off" the harness of war, Lee has laid aside all concern with the war and its thoughts, reminiscences and passions, and is devoting himself exclusively to the interests of Washington College. To this fact was due that, on the occasion of this, my first interview, I was only able to see him for a few minutes; for he was on the point of leaving to meet an appointment with the Common Council of the town?a body before which he had to lay a question of great pith and moment, to wit: the grading of a new pathway to the college building. It is such abstruse and difficult problems that now engage his attention; and, if I learn aright, he finds it harder to hold his own in those controversies than he did in the deadly imminent point of battle. He was good enough, however, to make an appointment with me for another hour ; and on meeting him on his return I had with him a long, full and frank conversation. If it would be of any interest to your readers to learn what are his views touching such questions in the Virginia campaigns as I had occasion to ask enlightenment from him, it would yet be impossible for me to make these public, seeing it was the express request of Gen. Lee, that I should refrain from doing so. He has a mortal dread of appearing in the papers, and, considering how he has been misrepresented, this is not wonderful. I may say that with his friends he never recurs to the subject of the war; nor did he to me express any opinion on political matters. I understand, however, from those who are in intimate daily converse with him, that he is strongly in favor of the people of his State, and of the South, ''coming right up, frankly accepting the situation, and earnestly pursuing the work of reconstruction." Personally he is at . _ .1 _ n?v l uu TJ present in toe nusu ui neaan. nv hci^ucui<ij> rides out; and the clearest image I have been able to form of him in the warlike mood came to me this afternoon, when, with high-top boots and leathern gauntlets, he rode out on the same grey horse that used to bear him in the stress of battle. He is greatly beloved by the people for his modesty, gentleness and goodness, and is a prodigious favorite with children. "If you should see him as he moves about among us," said one of the people of the town to me, "and the unaffected kindness and simplicity of his life, you might fancy what he would be in greatness." He has added great prosperity to the town, and Washington College, under his Presidency, has been lifted from the grade of a broken down academy to the position of a respectable and highly flourishing institution of learning. That General Lee will figure in history, when it comes to be written, with full light and without passion or prejudice, as a very able commander, a skillful methodical soldier, who made several admirable defensive campaigns, fought two or three brilliant aggressive actions, protracted the war on the limited theatre of Virginia for four years by a careful husbandry of his resources, and finally succumbed only to greatly superior numbers, may, I conceive, be readily conceded. That he will figure as the South now figures him, in the light of a first-class Captain, may, I believe, be fairly doubted. His character takes its shape rather from an admirable balance of intellectual and moral qualities than from the possession of any overmastering power. Some men?a very few?are adequate; they are supreme, they embody revolutions, they alone are worthy of study. Lee was not of such. He lacked passion, he lacked abandon; perhaps? here I speak cautiously?he lacked true conviction, And yet I think I may say he lacked true conviction. For it is well known that he was an ardent lover of the Union, and that he was. as I have learned since I came here, always at heart an emancipationist He was, therefore, not the type of, nor the leader for that fierce and Titian spirit that sought in the ruin of a nation to erect an empire on the foundation of slavery. Such a spirit needed embodiment in a brain and hand swift and aggressive and flamboyant as itself. Nor on the other hand, was he great enough to stand forth as a patriot; but he permitted himself to be drawn into the vortex of passion that seethed and bubbled in his section, to be allured by poor blind fallacies instead of following the inspiration of greatness. I think he is far from happy. And yet his fame as a soldier, though not first-class, is very sound and complete, so that now, away from the field of war, and buried here in qniet academic life, among these secluded hills, it seems as though he had passed away from earth. He is all that is left to Virginia, magna mater virum, out of a wreck of a revolution. Is it, then, wonderful that Virginians almost adore him? I stood this evening in the light of the descending sun at the grave of one of a different type?at the grave of Jackson. "In Lexington in the valley of Virginia;" and here he lies in the quiet village churchyard. A simple slab is at the head with only the name, "Gen. Thos. J. Jackson," and at his feet a stone with the initials "T. J. J." A garland of flowers lay on the grave; and in my heart I could feel no other emotion than one of tender interest in such proofs of affection. STONEWALL JACKSON. Jackson, for the ten years previous to the outI 1. -r.l- MiKtnnr Tn urea*, ui me wai j woo xiuicooui iu iu& xiuumu^ am stitute here?"Professor of Natural Philosophy and Artillery Tactics." I have seen and talked with many of his neighbors and familiars, and have even met several negroes who were members of the Colj ored Sabbath School which he established here and conducted with great success for many years. As a teacher he was decidedly unpopular, and it is said that he was very maladroit in his experiJ ments, which often resulted in ludicrous blunders, at which he would laugh as heartily as the lads in 1 his class. At one time he determined to acquire the art of public speaking, and with this view he joined the Franklin Society, a literary association, whioh has existed for many years, and which stiD existsin Lexington. He used tdtakfe part in the debates, but with the most distressing stammerings, haltings and break-downs, and never attained any more than a mediocre faculty of utterance. As he came more under the influence of the religious sentiment, after the death ofdfis first Wife, he ceased to attend the Franklin Society, and becoming mom and more moody and eccentric, he grew more and more unpopular. Indeed he was looked upon as a kind of mild lunatic, and the board had frequent meetings with the view of displacing him from his chair in the Academy. At length the war broke out and the qualities that had smouldered in mere fire-damp suddenly burst into a clear and steady flame. All the people here speak of the wonderful change that came over him at the outbreak of the war. Though he had been all his life an ardent States Rights Democrat, yet he bitterly opposed secession. Nevertheless when the war came, he threw into it all the tremendous energies of his nature. Then his religious fervor became a guiding light and an impelling power. He believed that he was literally led by the hand of God.? "Most men will think," he said, referring to his overwhelming attack at Chanoellorsville, "that I nlonno/1 J* oil fimm tll? first, Vint it, WAS not SO. I simply took advantage of circumstances as they presented themselves to me in the Providence of God. I feel that His hand led me." * Long before the war, and even in regard to minor matters, he used to express the same views of Divine intervention and inspiration; and in one of his letters, which I have read, he says that "through the grace given him from above," he feels that rain will fall at such and such a time. Certainly, he was an extraordinary man; and standing by his grave this evening I seemed to realize that there lay below the only man who could have conducted the war to a successful issue on the part of the South. 1 But I must cease these musings or I shall run out this letter to undue length. Indeed, there is here very little else on which to descant The interest of Lexington centres almost entirely in its educational establishments, and both ore pronounced to be in a very prosperous condition. The last catalogue of Washington College shows 399 students now. in attendance, and there are constantly new applicants for admission. The commencement, which is to come off about the middle of this month, is looked forward to as one of the great fasti; and I understand Gov. Piermont and General Schofield are both to bo here. There is less political talk here than at any other place I have visited. Yet in a veiy extended intercourse, I have found the people perfectly well disposed? everybody intending to register and do all he can to aid practical reconstruction. The blacks in this region are quiet, peaceable and industrious, and there is far more prosperity here than in tide-water Virginia; and the crops in this region, as all the way down the valley to the Potomac, are looking magnificent?farmers from all parts tell me they are the finest they ever" saw. The houses, and barns, and mills burned during the war have ail been replaced by superior structures; the great valley is blossoming like a rose, and I hope it may soon be said of its inhabitants, as Numa Pompelius ' ^ aP AnAfknii V?o r\T\TT xrolloir I BU1U OX 111C IlillUUIUUilO Ul auunuvi i muvj j that "protected by the Divinity they adore, sup. ported by the earth which they cultivate, and at peace with themselves, they enjoy the sweets of , life, without dreading or desiring desolation." INTERVIEW WITH OLD THAD. Mr. Drake, one of the editors of the Union Springs (Ala.,) Times, who L3 now travelling in the 1 Northern States, had an interview a few days since with Thaddeus Stevens at his home: I visited Lancaster, and obtained an audience. Radicals have a good deal to say about the close relationship some of the former slaves bear to their masters und their masters' friends. They tell southern people that numbers among their servile class are too yellow to be white, and too white to be black. They must stop this. It is horribly 1 unkind to their great leader and master. In the ' city of Lancaster, Penn., in the godly North, nigh unto the pure city of Philadelphia, Thaddeus Ste, vens has for years lived in open adultery with a , mulatto woman who he seduced from her husband, a full-blooded negro. This mulatto manages his households both in Lancaster and at Washington, receives or rejects his visitors at will, speaks of ; Mr. Stevens and herself as "we," and in all things comforts herself as if she enjoyed the rights of a lawful wife. 1 I told him I had come to hear from him, whom I regarded as the great head and master of his party, just what his party demanded, and where their demands would stop; upon what terms and at what probable time his party would recognize the Southern States as equal members of the Government, and to ask his interpretation of the present measure of reconstruction. Then prefacing the question with the remark that it was an indelicate one to put to a gentleman, I asked: "Do you pursue your harsh policy as a party measure for the purpose of intimidation?" He answered at once: "I do nothing merely for party purposes. I regard my proposed action as equitable, and resting upon principles of law." "But, Mr. Stevens, by what provision of the Constitution are you warranted in perverting a war made to resolve a doubtful question, and the right itself to make which was doubtful, into an excuse for going beyond its purpose, in treating the defeated so harshly as you propose?" "The Constitution does not enter into the question?has nothing to do with it at all You made an issue of war. The North?whether wisely or unwisely it is no use now to inquire?accepted the issue and conquered you. By a thousand acts, ?? ooom r>nnr tn fni-mif .}\6 WLUUU SUlllU VI uiy yumj utvui w ?Government recognized you as a belligerent nation, and your defeat left you no rights under the Constitution nor any claim to be treated by its provisions. While you were belligerents, I regarded you also as great criminals, who had forfeited all rights of person as well as property. I propose to deal with you entirely by the laws of war and though not caring to have those laws executed to the full extent of hanging the poor devils, I regard it as a matter of the simple f. equity to punish you by fines at least sufficient to indemnify loyal men for the damage sustained at your hands." "Will you persist in your confiscation measure, Mr. Stevens?will you be satisfied with no less?" "No, sir! Anything less would be unjust to those wronged by your crime.'' "Will you be able to bring your party to your support?" "I do not know?we had a hard work to secure the passage of the military bill?but I shall take i- ? ?/Ja?a*a nil aP rvirr ofrAn nrf Vt on/) care 01 Uiyocu} aiiu uctvwj au va 1X1J ouvugbu auu ability on this measure of justice." "Well, Mr. Stevens, there are good men in the South?honest men, who took an oath of loyalty to the United United States Government in good faith, upon the assurance that they would be treated as citizens. The unsettled condition of politics bears hardly upon them. Lands are valueless, aad industry is discouraged. If you?and I say you because you are your party?intend to perfect the proposed confiscation, do it quickly. Do not torment the South by delay and deception.? Bring Wilson homo, and don't let him tell any more lies to honest people. Let the issue be distinct and well understood. You are consistent, and have been frank, at least" Mr. S. now complained of being overworked. I begged him to answer one or two more questions. ( "Would you be pleased to see organixedm AI*?r bama a government similar to that of Trwaone, under snch men as Brownlow, a few of which I* am sorry to say we have among us?Milt Safford for instance ?" He replied hesitatingly: "It is not a matter ed ' men at all; it would depend upon crrcumstanoes and principles. We would inquire whether yioa. had a State, and?" I Here interrupted, feeling that he was dodging, and asked the Mowing question: V y,v, "Suppose, sir, Alabama should organise a gon>: ernment enfranchising the negro, providing for his education, and giving ample guarantees ftrWat protection before the courts and in society, and under that government should send good men, who could take the 'test oath,' to Congress, would you admit lier to representation?" V f Without a moment's pause he answered with strong emphasis: "No, sirand thus closed the interview. . _ _ r - f ,/f _ PUT A GOOD PACE UPOIf IT. If you wish to succeed in life, if yon wish to find friends, if you wish your relatives or associates to enjoy your company, wear a cheerful faoe;. every body dislikes and shuns a sad one, if it is habitually sad. Every body but God grows weary of bring reminded of sorrow, and the heart that is ahnyn Alii rJ? k^Aa WAIAM Walt kn WV OIATUI Pmtfglli f/t JLIUI U1 1/lVWi TT UlViO TTiU WV iVIH UiVUVt A ivwwv fv be happy if yoa can do no more. Coax sunbeatns to your eyes, smiles to your lips. Speak hopeful, words as often as yon can; get the name of being cheerful, and it wiH be an inpense to you. Wherever the glad face goes it is #el* come; whatever the langhing lips ask is apt toha granted. If you are starving for want of aithm , food for body or spirit, it is better to laugh than to cry as you tell the tale. There was one once, .who, with a face Hlce a tomb-stone, told and told her wants, and met with repulse from those whose faces fell at sight of her; but at last, laughing in strange mirth at her own misery, she told it once again. Tears started into the eyes of her hearers, and instant relief was given. Men are impatient of tears and women are weary of them. Don't give way to them, no matter what the case may be, get back the smiles as quickly as yon can.? Let them be but "hollow smiles," if that's the best you can do. Keep at that. By and by you will be better. Laugh to keep from crying. Never give up to gloom; it is a wrong to those about you. Sad faces add to the weight of trouble-that life lays upon every heart. Wo to us if we cannot look about us and see bravely cheerful feces toon* courage our hearts! Let us be careful that each one of us has one of these feces. A man who carries a glad face does an amount of good in the world impossible to compute, even if heistoo poior to give one cent in charity; and a man whose fees is generally sad, does, every day of his life,, man harm than can bo reokoned. This is a hard world, full of all manner of troubles; but every one of them can be wrestled out of sight; and every living man and woman, as soon as the first distrait is a little past, can at the very le*st wssame cheerfulness. This ir decent More than this, 'tis a doty. Nobody has any right to go aboat a perpetual dampner of enjoyment And no one has jnst reason for habitual sadness till he has lost his soul The Andersonvilli League.?The Washington correspondent of the Erie (Pa.) Ditpakk says: That there is a league composed of Federal soldiers who have been in Southern prisons, which has bound itself by solemn oath to assssinate Jeff Davis, if ever found in the United States. Two of the members of this league were in the court room at Richmond, when Davis was released. This fact having been communicated to. Charles O'Connor, the men were seized and pnt in jail and kept there a week. The same correspondent says that Davis knew that he was watched by the detectives of that league, and hence his quietnesss while in New York, and his exit from there, under disguise, fbr Montreal. According to their oath, so long as he remains on foreign soil he will not be molested. By the provisions of his bond he will have to return to Richmond in October, but if necessary, he will be furnished with an escort What a lie I Defaced Greenbacks.?We have several times notified our readers and the public, that torn or defaced greenbacks and fractional currency wffl not be received at th? National Banks, only at. a heavy discount We received a $1 bill to-day from a friend which has ? piece torn off atone , corner, about the size of a quarter of a dollar, which will not pass for anything on our streets* and for which we can only get 85 or 90 ets. at the Bank. This is no fault of the Banks, but in accordance with instructions from Washington (Sty. But for all we can see, it is a direct fraud upon the people? Bills which have holes in them or small pieces torn from them, are all discounted at a loss. The Banks require the bills to be returned to them perfect, with all the parts attached, or they discount them at a loss. Send as no more such bills or expect a large discount. ?Raleigh SsrUind. Be Irradiated.?Let light enter your souls as regards Cucumbers. A friend, a "So hern Cul tivator," tells us that there is do doubt of their be* ing "he" and "she" cucumbers.- And that it is useless to save seed from "she" specimens; such seed bringing nothing but flowers. And he has left upon our table two well-grown cucumbers, tying as if in each others arms, and joined firmly together, like the Siamese Twins, half way down.? One has at the blossom end a rough black spot of considerable size; while the other, in the same locality, is perfectly smooth. The one with smooth end is the "he," and from him alone must seed be saved. Our informant says that this spot, in all cases, is the distinguishing feature. So govern your seed-saving accordingly. Who can say that we have set at the feet of this horticultural Gamaliel to no purpose ??Edgefield Advertiser. Pine Tree Wool.?At a factory in Breeku pine-tree wool is now spun and woven in to a kind of flannel, which is largely used as blankets in hospitals, barracks and prisons, in that city and in Vienna, with manifest advantage, pine-wool drives away all disagreeable and noxious insects from the localities in which it is used. It can be used as stuffing for chairs, sofas, and mattresses in thesune way as horse hair; and some qualities are woven into a kind of cloth of which garments of many kinds can be made. It is said to be favorable to health as well as to cleanliness. The waste liquor* from the pine-vats yields a valuable medicine, and from the waste fibre gas is manufactured to light the factory. i r Voltaire on Mvrriage?Voltaire said. The mn?o mnwwml man rnn liopo f]ia fairap tmnua (Ium UIUIC U1CU11VU iUOU J VU uwfv wMv?vnv? v? uuuu vuimv will be. Marriage renders a man more virtuous and more wise. An unmarried man is bat half of a perfect being and it requires the other half to make things right; and it cannot beelpected that in this imperfect state he can keep the straight path of rectitude any more than a boat with one oar, or bird with one wing, can keep a straight course. Samuel Johnson said, and others have repeated it, that a m?n is better pleased when he has a good dinner upon his table than when his wife speaks Greek. t ; JSF'The owner of a piece of land, complaining how little it produced, declared "that the clover was so short, that the honey bees, in order to get at the honey, had to get down on their knees."