Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, August 01, 1867, Image 1
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. IiKWiSJW. GRM'T,. ^n fnkjpltnt Jkiralj Uehrspaptr: Jor % fromotion of % political, Sfldal, ^jricitltaral airtr Commtrtial |ittmsis of ifrt ?otrtjj. ^^Mrlc'il^^Ai^iP1^ '
VOL. 13. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, AUGrXJST" 1, 1867. ," ' NO. ,14^
?be Jhwg-lrilw.
AN APE'S REVENGE.~
Captain Lanseer was in temporary command of
the military post at Pudser, and had in his detachment
a large body of native troops. He paraded
his soldiers for inspection, and pnt them through a
thorough drilL The evolutions of the battalion
were performed with promptness and precision;
and the manual of arms was nearly equal to that
of the best drilled European troops. I had heard
that these Sepoys were not so well disciplined as
the English soldiers; but Lanseer assured me that
their discipline was well nigh perfect In size they
are smaller than the English; but they readily
adapt themselves to the light uniform, and are very
hardy.
Our second evening at Pudser was spent at Captain
Lanseer's quarters, and after supper we worked
our way into story telling.
"Gentlemen,'* said Lanseer, as we filled our
pipes the second time, "I can tell you a very curious
story of circumstances that have transpired
in this place within a month. If you can think
of nothing Better, I will give it to you."
Of course we could think of nothing better, and
the vote was unanimous that he should proceed.
. About four weeks ago, commenced the Oaptain,
a wealthy zemindar, named Hoosian Kahn?
"Zemindar," interrupted Gilroy, "what's
that?"
A zemindar is simply a land owner, replied Lanseer.
As I was saying, the zemindar Hoosian
Kahn was found one morning dead in his bed, with
his throat cut in a most shocking manner. It was
not cut clean across, as a suicide would have done
it, but it was hacked frightfully. Upon the floor,
close by the bedside, was found a razor covered
with blood, its stout horn handle broken, and the
shank bent The aftnindar had been an excellent
man, respected by the people, both high and low,
and his shocking death was the cause of much excitement
And first it was thought that the murder
had been committed for the purpose of robbery
; bat not an article had been stolen from the
house. The English watch, the jewels, the purse,
the leather pocket-book, which, with the clothing
in the room, were undisturbed. I was called to
the scene of the murder as soon as it was discovered,
and, with other officers, did my best to unravel
the mystery. There had been some struggling
on the part of Hoosian, as was evident from
the condition of the bed; but he had not struggled
much. We found a large bunch of hair upon
the pillow, where the murderer had held the head
' back while the fatal work was being done; and this,;
together with the broken handle and bent shank'
of the razor, signaled to us that the assassin must!
have been a fellow of immense physical power.
While I was gathering up his hair, one of my
companions called attention to some mar!:s upon
the floor. A quantity of blood had run down upon
a grass mat by the aide of the bed, and not far
from this upon the floor, were several bloody prints
which appeared to me to have been made by a
man's hand They were certainly not the print of
a human foot I could only account for them upon
the supposition that the murderer had either
^slipped and fallen or had been pushed over by the
strtTggft?g*iaemindar, and that here was when his
bloody hands had struck. The window was open,
and we found stains of blood upon the stool very
much in the shape of those upon the floor. This
sleeping room was all ^>ur chamber, and the murderer
had made his exit by the window into the
tree, the limbs of which drooped toward the
honse.
The first person whom we called as witness was
an old woman who had been employed for some
years in the family. The zemindar's wife was just
then too deeply affected to give us any coherent
information. ^ The old woman, whose name, I
think, was Zaloa, recognized the razor as having
* belonged to her master, and she also showed us the
little closet where it had been kept The closet
door had been opened, and the razor had been taken
from the dressing case, and that, too, in the
dark, from all which it appeared that the deed had
been done by some one familiar with the premises.
There had been no robbery, so we were led to the
further conclusion that the murder had been an
act of vengeance. And who could have entertained
such feelings toward Hoosian Kahn ? We had
questioned Zaloa, but she shook her head. She
did not reply with that promptness which might
have been expected from one who had no suspicions
; but she seemed rather to avoid the subject
I questioned her closely, but she .was not inclined
to speak.
' T ****** aP cavTTQnfc
UO you UlUWi KUU Xj 11 auj vi tav oMfauw
in the house had any feelings of ill-will against
your master?"
She begged me to ask her mistress. The mistress
had just then entered the room, and, as she
heard this remark, she spoke. She said there was
a servant who had such enmity against her husband
; and she named the khidmutcher, Gholam.
"Khidmutchcr," interrupted Ben Gilroy, taking
his pipe from his mouth, "what's that?"
^ "A khidmutger is a table servant," exclaimed
fc the Captain. "This hidmutger's name was Gho'
lam, and he was the most powerful fellow on the
place. I knew him well He was high tempered
and bold, but I had never thought him vindictive.
It seems that two or three days before, the zemindar
had punished Gholam for some slight misde>
meanor, and the latter hkd declared that he would
have vengeance. Finally the woman, Zaloa, confessed
that she heard the man make such a threat;
and she had hesitated telling it because Gholam
^vas a good hearted man, and had been kind to
P'
Gholam seemed utterly astonished when he was
accused of the murder. At first he pretended to
think we were not in. earnest; but when he found
that we meant what we said, he protested his innocence
in the most vehement manner. We knew
the superstitious nature of the caste to which he
belonged, and we expected that he would betraj
his guilt when he beheld the bloody corpse of hh
victim?but it was not so. He was horror-stricken
at the sight, but quickly recovering himself he
walked directly to the bed, and placing his hanc
upnnthe cold brow of his master, he called on the
aw^^lng God to witness that he was innocent ol
n'mo Afrr helipf in thfi CTlilt of Gholam was
^ sTggered, and yet circumstances were strongly a
gainst him. We knew that the murderer musl
have been not only well acquainted in the house,
but also acquainted with the zemindar's private
> affairs; and we were furthermore confident thai
| the deed had been one of revenge.
Gholam was arrested and confined, and two day.'
afterward he was tried and condemned. Still he
was not immediately executed, as is generally the
manner in capital cases in this country. His pro
testations of innocence were so strong and consist
ent, and his previous character was so well known
that the Judge sent him back to prison, there te
i remain awhile previous to his execution.
Hoosian Kahn had furnished considerable pro
visions and forage for our regiment, and after hi
funeral I went to his house to look over his account
which he had kept with his own hand. I was ac
companied by Mr. Cranston, one of my lieutenants
It was in the evening when we reached the house
and as all zemindar's papers and books were in th
room where he had slept, we were conducted thith
, er, the woman Zaloa leading the way, and bearinj
candles. The bed was still in its old place; bu
the clothing had been exchanged, and the blood
stains had been washed from the floor. Zaloa set
the candles upon the table, and then withdrew;
and shortly afterward we were joined by Hoosian's
clerk, an intelligent Mohammedan, named Ben
Abbas. As there was quite a current of air coming
in at the open window, we moved the table up
into one oorner, opposite the foot of the bed, to
take the light from the flickering draft, after which
Ben Abbas produced the books and papers. We
had been engaged over the account half an hour,
when a noise out of doors arrested our attention.
It was a chattering sound, accompanied by a sort
of hoarse grunt
"Abba," cried the clerk, "that is surely Kaka."
"And who is Kaka ?"
"He was my master's baboon," replied Ben Abbas.
"He ran away more than a week ago."
"Why did he run away ?" '
"Because Hoosian Kahn whipped him. He
came into this very room while his master was out,
and ransacked the closet, and pulled the qjothes
from the bed. Hoosian caught him in the very
act, and beat him without mercy. iVaka leaped
from the window and ran away into the woods,
and has not been seen since."
As the plerk ceased speaking, I heard the baboon
mounting the tree, and I at once extinguished
the lights and bade my companions draw back
with me into the extreme corner behind the table;
for I had a great curiosity to see what his baboonship
would do. I remembered the animal very
well, as I had frequently seen him about the premises.
. The zemindar had captured him when young
and reared him for a pet. Up the tree the fellow
came, and presently he swung himself upon the
stool, and thence to the room. The mopn was
shining brightly, and as the rays shone in through
the window, leaving us in the shade, we could observe
the movement of the interloper without being
ourselves detected, and you will remember,
furthermore, that we had thq table as a screen.
Kaka was one of the lungoor species, standing
five and a half feet high when erect, and presenting
a pretty good specimen of physical development
As I saw him enter the room, looking so
ugly and dangerous, I instinctively clapped my
hand to my pistol. ? Perhaps you will imagine the
suspicion- which had already dashed upon meP?
This brute and not the khidmutger had killed the
zemindar. Crouching behind the table, and remaining
perfectly still, we watched the fellow's
movements. As he entered the room he stood
erect upon his legs and gazed upon the bed; then
he went to the closet and opened the door and took
^Kwoin/r wico flia mntpnk nf wlliVll TlP
overhauled almost as systematically as a man would
have done. Presently he uttered a loud cry, and
hashed the case upon the floor, and., then sprang
toward the bed. He* seized the clothing and tore
it o$ chattering and gnashing his teeth in a most
frightful manner. Coverlete, sheets, pillows and
mattresses come off in quick suoo&sion, and when
the brute found that he was only spending his rage
upon inanimate substances, he caught one of the
pillows and tore it into fragments, scattering the
feathers over the room. ^
I could bear the scene ho longer. As the lungoor
moved bock, after having rent the pillow, he
stood directly in the moonlight and I think I never
beheld a more savage andrepulsive looking monster.
I carefully raised my pistol above the table
and aimed it at his head. I am not apt to miss my
mark, and I did not do so in this instance. As I
fired, the fellow reeled and clapped both his hands
to his ears. In an instant I was soon upon my
feet, with my sword drawn, and before the brute
could recover himself, I had run him through the
heart
By this time the family was aroused, and in a
little while we were investigating the subject or the
murder under the light of these new and wonderful
circumstances. One loolc at the feet of the
lungoor enabled me to account for the curious
blood prints which I had attributed to the hand of
a man. There were the very outlines and proportions
which bad been stamped "upon -the floor.?
And now, too, I could account for the breaking of
the shank, and for the mass of hair that had been
pulled from the head of the murdered man. Hoosian's
widow, as soon as she saw the body of Kaka,
and heard our story, cried out that the lungoor had
killed her husband. She informed us that Kaka
had been in the habit of seeing his master shave,
and that several times he had been found with the
razor in hand standing before the mirror. Then
she told us what Ben Abbas had already communicated?how
that Hoosian had whipped the lungoor
severely, and that the brute thereupon ran into the
woods.
On the following morning the native officers
were called in, and after a veiy short consultation
it was decided that Gholam was innocent, and that
the lungoor had done the murderous deed. There
could be no mistake about it One experiment
which had not been thought of at the time of the
trial was now tried. It had been evident that the
murderer had gained entrance to the zemindar's
chamber from the tree; but when we came to experiment,
we could not find a man able to perform
that feat There were several branches drooping
toward the house, but they were not strong enough
to ^ear a man, and we now had it demonstrated
that a man of Qholam's bulk, in order to reach the
window from the tree, would have to make a clean
leap of at least twelve feet In short, the evidence
was plain and substantial. The lungoor was the
criminal
Gholam was a happy man when it was announced
to him that he was free; and Hoosian's widow
was particularly gratified, for she prized the khidmutger
as the best servant of the establishment?
The only recompense which Gholam claimed in re'
turn for the indignity he had suffered, was the
teeth of the lungoor. They were readily given to
1 him, and he wears them about his person, as so
1 many charms against future ill.
"SENT 1IY EXPRESS."
r Marian Harlan was alone in the world?her moth!
er just buried.
r She was a beautiful, brown-haired girl with soft,
- ? ' J
' shy eyes of violet gray, ana rosy lips couipressea
to a firmness far beyond her years. Fof after all
! she was scarcely seventeen, and so Deacon Gray
' was telling her, as he sat by the fire spreading his
; huge hands over the tardy blaze and asked:
' "But what are you going to do to earn your
J bread and butter, child ?"
"I don't know?I haven't thought. Mamma
had an uncle in New York, who'
> "Yes yes?I've heern tell about h'm?he was
5 mad 'cause your mother didn't marry just exactly
6 to suit him wasn't he ?"
Marian was silent Deacon Gray waited a few
3 minutes, hoping she would admit him into her sei
cret meditations; but she did not, and the Deacon
i went away home, to tell his wife that "that Harlan
gal was the very queerest creetur he ever had come
across?"
, In the meanwhile Marian was busy packing her
> few scanty things into a little carpet bag, by the
weird, flickering light of the dying woodfire.
"I will go to New York," she said to herself,
s setting her small pearly teeth firm together, "My
, mother's uncicshall hear my cause pleaded through
i- my own lips. Oh, I wish my heart would nol
i throb so wildly I I am no longer meek Minnie Har!,
Ian, I am an ophan all alone in the world whe
e mustfight life's battles with her own single hands!"
Lower Broadway at seven o'clock P. M.! Whal
g a Babel of crashing wheels, hurrying humanity, and
t conglomerate noises it was! Minnie Harlan sal
in the oorner of an Express Office under the flare
of gaslights, surrounded by boxes, and wondered
whether people ever went crazed in this perpetual
dim and tumult, Her dress was very plain?gray
poplin, with a shabby old fashioned little straw
bonnet tied with black ribbons, and a blue veil,
while her only article of baggage, the carpet bag,
lay in her lap. She had sat there two hours, and
was very tired.
"Poor little thing," thought the dark-haired
young clerk nearest her, whc inhabited a sort of
wire cage under a circle of gaslights. And then
he took up his pen, and plunged into a perfect Atlantic
Ocean of accounts."Mr.
Evans!"
"Sir!"
"The dark-haired clerk emerged from his cage
with his pen behind his ear, in obedience to the
beckoning finger of his superior.
"I have noticed that young woman sitting'here
for some time?how came she here?"
"Expressed on sir, from Millington, Iowa?arrived
this afternoon."
As though poor Minnie Harlan were a box or a
paper parcel.
"Who for?"
"Consigned to Walter Harrington, Esquire."
"I sent up to Mr. Harrington's address to notify
him some time ago ; I expect an answer every
moment"
"Very odd," said the gray-headed gentleman,
taking up his newspaper.
"Yes, sir rather."
Some three quarters of an hour afterwards,
Frank Evans came to the pale girl's side with an
indescribable pity in his hazel eyes.
"Miss Harlan, we have sent to Mr. Harrington's
residence'
Minnie looked up with a feverish red upon her
cheek, and her hands clasped tightly on the handle
of her faded carpet bag.
"?And we regret to inform you that he sailed
for Europe at twelve o'clock this day."
K sudden blur came over Minnie's eyes?she
trembledrlike a leaf. In all her calculations, she
had made no allowance for an exigency like this.
"Can we do anything further for you ?" questioned
the young clerk, politely.
"Nothing?ho one can do anything no
Frank Evans had been turning away, but something
in the'piteous tone of her voice appealed to
eveiy manly instinct within him.
"Shall I send to any other of your friends?"
"Ihave no friends."..
"Perhaps I can have your things sent to some
quiet family hotel ?" > %
- Minnie opened her little leather purse arid showed,
him two ten cent pieces, with a smile that was
almost a tear. * *
"This is all the money that I have in the world,
sir!"
So young, so beautiful and so desolate! Frank
Evans had been a New Yorlcer all his life, but he
had never met with' an exactly parallel case to this.
t * ,1 ^ n t ? _ J! 1 ZA
tie Dlt tne ena 01 nis pen in aire perplexity.
"Bat what are you going to do?"
"I don't know, sir. Isn't there a work house,
or some such place, I could go until I could find
something to do ?"
"Hardly." Frank Evans could scarcely help
smiling at poor ^Minnie's simplicity.
"Hey are putting out the lights, and preparing
to close the office, said Minnie, starting nervously
to her feet. I must go?somewhere.
"Miss Harlan," said Frank, quietly, "my home
is a very poor one?I am only a five hundred dollar
clerk?but I am sure my mother will receive
you under her roof for a day or two, if you can
trust me."
"Trust you?" Minnie looked at him through
violet eyes obscured in tears. "Oh, sir, 1 should
be so thankful I" *
"Howlate you are Frank! Here, give me your
overcoat?it i& powdered with snow, and"?
But Frank interrupted his bustling, cherrycheeked
mother, as she stood on tip-toe to take off
his outer wrappings. - *
"Hush, mother! there is a young lady down
Btaire."
"A young lady, Frank?"
"Yes, mother; expressed on from Iowa to old
Harrington, the rich merchant He sailed for Europe
this morning, and she is left entirely alone.?
Mother, she looks like poor Blanche, and I knew
you wouldn't refuse her a corner here until she
could find something to do."
Mrs. Evans went to the door and called cheerily
out:
"Come up stairs, my dear?you are as welcome
as flowers in May 1 Frank, you did quite right;
you always do."
The days and weeks passed on, and still Minnie
Harlan remained an inmate of Mrs. Evan's humble
dwelling. "It seems just as though she had
taken our dead Blanche's place," 6aid the cozy little
widow; "and she is so useful about the house.
I don't know how I ever managed without her."
"Now, Minnie, you are not in earnest about
leaving us to morrow. ?"
"I must, dear Mrs. Evans, only think?I have
been here two months to-morrow; and the situation
of governess is very advantageous."
"Very well. I shall tell Frank how obstinate
you are."
"Dearest Mrs. Evans, please don't I Please
keep my secret."
"What secret is it, to be so religiously kept?"
asked Mr. Frank Evans, coolly walking into the
midst of the discussion, with his dark hair tossed
about by the wind, and his hazel-brown eyes sparkling
archly.
"Secret!" repeated Mrs. Evans, energetically
wiping her dim spectacle glasses. "Why, Marian
is determined to leave ns to-morrow."
"Minnie?" * ^
"I must Frank. I have no right further to
tresspass on your kindness."
"No right, eh ? Minnie, do you know that the
old house has been a different one since you came
into it? Do you suppose we want to lose our little
sunbeam ?"
Minnie smiled sadly, but her hand felt very cold
and passive in Frank's warm grasp.
"You'll stay, Minnie?"
"No." She shook her head determinedly."Then
you must be made to stay," said Prank.
"I've missed something of great value lately, and
I hereby arrest you on suspicion of the theft I"
"Missed something ?" Minnie rose, turning red
and white. "Oh, Frank, you never can suspect
mo!"
"But I do suspect you. In fact I am quite sure
that the article is in your possession."
"The article I"
"My heart, Miss Minnie I Now look hero: I
know I am very young and very poor, but I love
i you, Minnie Harlan, and I will be a good and true
husband to you. Stay and be my little wife 1"
So Minnie Harlan, instead of going out as gov1
erness, according to the programme, married the
dark-haired young clerk in Ellison's Express Office.
They were very quietly married, early in the
t morning, and Frank took Minnie home to his
; mother, and then went calmly about his business
in the wire cage, under the circlet of gas lights,
i "Evans!"
"Yes, sir."
; Frank, with his pen behind his ear as of yore,
1 quietly obeyed the behest of the gray-headed offi;
cial.
"Do you remember the young woman who was
expressed on from MOlington, Iowa, two months
since?"
"Yes, sir?I remember her."
A tall, silver-haired gentleman here interposed
with earger quickness: - i
"Where is she ? I am her uncle, Walter Harrington.
I have just returned from Paris, when
the news of her arrival reached me. I want her; i
she is the only living relative left me!"
"Ah! hut, sir," said Frank, youcan'thave her." j
"Can'thave her! What do you mean ?" Has i
anything happened?" 1
"Yes, ear, something has happened: Miss Harlan
was married to me this morning." i
Walter Harrington stared.
"Take me to her," he said, hoarsely. "I can't i
be parted from my only living relativfe for a mere
whim." .
"I wonder if he calls the marriage service and i
wedding ring raerewhims," thought honest Frank;
but he obeyed in sileiwe. ' *
"Minnie," said the old man, in faltering accents,
"you will come to me and be the daughter of my ,
old age? I am rich, Minnie, and you are all I 1
l il u ??
nave id cue wuriu.
Bat Mionie stole her hand through h er husband's
arm. ' i
"Dearest uncle, he was kind to me when I was
desolate and alone. I cannot leave my husband,
Uncle Walter?I lovehim 1"
"Then you must both of you come and be my
children," said the old man, doggedly. "And you
must come now, for the great house is as lonely as
a tomb."
Frank Evans is an express clerk no longer, and
pretty Mi one moves in velvet and diamonds; but :
they are quite as happy as they were in the old ,
thne and that is saying enough. Uncle Walter
Harrington growB older and feebler every day, and I
his two children are the sunshine of his declining (
life.
fttisreltotteaus fading.;
i
Correspondence of the Charleston Courier. j
YORK DISTRICT.
Yobkville, S. C., July 11.
I have been spending several days in this delight- 1
ful village, receiving the hospitalities of old friends 1
?enjoying the pure water, mountain breeze, and 1
the many luxuries which this region affords dating 1
the summer months. .
A few days ago I accompanied a gentleman of 1
this place to the Mining section of this District? (
I had read and studied the various reports of the '
Geological Surveys of the State, frequently visited 1
and rambled among the hills of York, and became
intimately acquainted with the people, and familiar 1
with the topography of this part of the State, ##
I declare tojou that I never dreamed that such 1
immense beds of. gold were so densely deposited
beneath the soil Every stone you crush contains 1
more or less of the precious metal, and the rock- 1
ribbed sides of every kill, from its base to the sum- '
mit, forms a net-work rich with auriferous depos- ]
its. Wavisited the McCaffrey mine, twelve miles 1
above Yorkville. The tract contains 279 acres of '
land, with veins of ore running in every, direction. 1
The principal lead has just been opened, and ore
selected from one of the pits yielded about te '
each bushel.
We had no means of assaying so that we could
test fairly the exact per cent it would yield, but
feel satisfied that there is gold in abundance'in that
locality. It seems that this placdf has been overlooked
and neglected, while contiguous mines have
been carefully tested and examined. The gold is
deposited in a stratum of quartz running from five
to thirty feet below the surface, and from eight
inches to three feet wide, enveloped in a bed of
hard red clay; ' The geological formation, as well
as the surface'indications, exhibit a rich field for
the miner at no distant day. The relative connection
with the leading auriferous ducts from tfie
neighboring hills, converging in one direction and
diverging in ^another, shows distinctly that just
here there must be an immense deposit of gold.?
The Bolyn mine is South of this. The most productive
veins lead-off up the hill in the direction
of the McCaffrey lot; a dry ravine running down
to within a few yards of a beautiful, bold spring,
whose crystal water ripples along over beds of the
precious metal. A mile to the West we find the
Beach Branch Mine, owned, I believe, by Mr.
William Nesbit, of Georgia. Several pits have
been opened, shafts sunk, and very satisfactory
evidence obtained in reference to the value and
quantity of gold found here. I picked up in one
of the side sections of this mine, some beautiful
specimens of copper. * . * ^
The celebrated Martin mine lies to the South.
It was opened in 1827. Since that time, it has5
y _11? nnrl T\nrVinntl nf? Snot of
DSibil CUUl/IUUlUJ^ nuiuu) uwu jjv-i
earth has been a more fruitful souroe of anxiety and
disappointment on the one hand, and glorious realization
of high hopes on the other. For months .
the miner realized only a few cents a day for his
toil and wearisome labor. In 1856, an immense
nugget of gold was discovered?the miners dubbed
it with the millifluous title of the ' l?ee Gum.'' A
piece of quartz about the size of a man's head,
contained 4,400 pennyweights, or a little more than
$4,000 in pure gold. This created intense excite
ment throughout the gold region, and a thorough
hunt was instituted for its fellow, but to this dayit
never has been found. The lot contains thirty
acres, and every foot of it has been turned over
and over, time after time, and again, until it is well
exhausted. There are only two old mountaineers
at work now, and they are only washing the debris
which ?as accumulated bclowthepond. Theyuse
the old fashioned "Long Tom,'' and with this
primitive apparatus they have, the varied success
of the gambling miner. A few days ago they washed
out fourteen pennyweights; the day we visited
them they only collected one-half pennyweight '
I was greatly disappointed in this mine. It never
was more than a surface deposit, running up
West from the branch, a narrow back-bone between
two ravines, encountering near the summit1
of the hill a stratum of rotten slate, and a few
yards higher still, a bed of pure iron ore, with no
trace of gold. The consequence has been that the
Martin mine is exhausted, and will never pay to}
work it again. Cropping out a few hundred yards
above this bed of iron ore is a largo rich vein, running
off in a Westernly direction, which, in my
opinion, is more valuable than the Martin mine
ever was. A few miles to the South we visit the
Wylie mine which has recently been purchased by
a New York Company for $17,000. They intend,
I learn, having their machinery in operation in August
In the same neighborhood are the Smith mines,
which was bought a few days ago by a Company
ofBostonians for $10,000. Both of these mines
are 3aid to be rich, and with improved machinery
will undoubtedly yield a handsome income. I
learn that the same mineralogical formations in
North Carolina are now producing large amounts
of gold. The Pennsylvania and North Carolina
Gold Mining Company of Tamaqua, five miles
North of Charlotte; the Phoenix Mining Company
of New York, six miles from Concord ; the Blakeley
Mining Company, New York, fourteen miles
from Concord; the Howie and Harkness, are all in
successful operation. A single ten stamp mill
will crush teatons of ore in twenty-four hours.?
They compute the dirt at $65 per ton, making
$650 per day, or $3,900 for the six working days.
These mines were bought up at from $5 to $50 per
acre, and the whole investment of the Pennsylvania
Company did not exceed $27,000, from which
they are now realizing the handsome sum, after all
expenses are deducted, of $3,000 a week, or $155,000
per annum in gold.
We Qannot see why investments of this kind
would not pay equally as well in York District,
South Carolina. In fact, it is considered that the
mineral deposits become richer and more abundant
as they travel Westward. All that is required is
capital to develop the resources of the country.?
One million of dollars would entirely revolutionize
the whole mining region. The population would
soon change?hundreds of the poor and destitute
would find employment, the scattering shanties of
quary-men and charcoal-burners would soon give
place to thriving villages of robust, industrious
mechanics and miners. The climate is delightful,
and from every ravine there gushes forth a dozen
beautiful fountains of pure water, distilled from nature's
own alembic. Some of them are highly
mulinatat nnmTvrmTVftin fVlO (rrpflf. mnnntaill
UIVU1VUM>U) WIU|M/WUV*WV( AU vuv Q. __ _
laboratory which lies beneath these gold-clad hills.
Chalybeate, sulphur and limestone springs abound,
and near Mr. McCaffrey's there is a bold salt spring
pouring its briny waters into the vale below. The
scenery is often grand and picturesque, except
when hidden by the immense bodies of heavy timber
which obstructs the view. The forest has seldom
echoed with the sound of the axe, and the
thick undergrowth frequently blocks up the way
of the pedestrian.
The entire source of wealth in this region does
not, however, lie in her mineral deposits, but the
legitimate vegetable productions should be made
also to contribute to consummate this desirable
end. It is a corn region.. Wheat grows to much
perfection. Peaches also is a good crop, ancteveery
variety of apple tree flourishes and bears abundantly.
Berries of all kinds grow wild over the
woods. The grape here finds its native element,
and often you see the huge rambling vine climbing
amid the top-most boughs of the tall tiecs of his
mountain home. With frugality, industry and
enterprise, wines might, in a few years be manufactured
here equal, if not to excel, the far-famed
wines of France and California.
The King's Mountain Railroad is being rapidly
re-laid[ to Yorkville, and if the contemplated arrangements
to consolidate it with the Columbia
and Charlotte Road is consummated, many facilities
will be afforded the public which the present
Company-are unable to bestow. If the present
Dwnere of the mineral lands above Yorkville can
dispose of them, and capital and population increases,
there will be evidently a necessity for the
extension of this rood, which will, in time, make it
trainable property.* Manufactories will be built,
and the copper, iron dnd lead, as welf as the gold,
will contribute to the wealtfeof the country. But,
above all things, the people crave quiet and rest
from political excitement' They are anxious Tor a
uMiomanf nil nur difficulties, when Deace shall
X>VWVliiVUi< v* mm f a
again hold her txium phantjBway. They are willing
and ready to give theneg^allthe rights and privileges
of citizenship. ^The mack man, too, is anxious
to learn his duty to the country, and desires
to!perform it. I understand there wpre two thousand
of them which met jn. procession to celebrate
the Fourth of July. They had several speeches,
and everything passed off in good order; far better
than among their more enlightened brethren of
the great cities of New York and Boston.
A few days ago a notice was spread abroad that
there would be a "Grand Mass Meeting in the
Court House for the purpose of organizing a Union
Republican party, and that the friends of freedom
would be addressed by Mr. Bowen, of Charleston."
During the morning a number of freedmen
appeared at'the corners of the street, but alas!
their champion was holding his mournful
meditations within the gloomy walls of Castle
Pir.ckney, and the great lights of the party having
quietly withdrawn from the arena, leaving their
colored brethren to mood over their disappointed
hopes and aspirations. It was a great blessing to
the farmers, as the labor would have become distracted,
the'crops suffered serious injury, and the
country, not benefitted. The people here have
great reason to be thankful. Neither army overrun
the District; provisions.ywere never so high or
scarce'its in many places; tfffc freedmen have kept
out of jpolitics, and been more attentive to their
business,cultivating their crops, and endeavoring
to make an honest living.
Anotljpr source of gratification to the people
here, especially the farmers, is that but few.okL
debts are hanging jjyer t^?nij_aacL-tbcy" are7to a
great ?egree, independent. The currency is silver
and gold. Everything is cash, and upon a specie
basis. The merchants complain of dull times, but
diy goods, groceries, drugs, stationery, &c., command
exorbitant prices. The principal trade is
to Baltimore and New York, and the profits must
be considerable in specie when the prices are realized.
I judge from the columns of the Enquirer,
which, by the way, is the best weekly in the State,
that the merchants of this village never advertise
to any extent. They seldom patronize the press,
and the worthy publisher has to look to other
sources for support and patronage. This should
*?u
not be so, as tne town paper snouiu uiw?ys reuat
the liberality as well as the enterprise and prosperity
of its citizens.
I am told that the Male School, conducted by
CoL Coward, which formerly .was so celebrated
under the superintendency of the lamented Jenkins,
docs not meet with the patronage and encouragement
which it so richly deserves. Why is this ?
is a question the stranger would naturally ask.?
Every inducement and facility is offered young men
to pursue their studies and acquire a sound practical
education?and it would be most gratifying to
we the "King's Mountain Institute" crowded
with students, and laboring to perpetuate an institution
conceived, organized and built up by one of
Carolina's noblest, bravest sons. The Female
School is more prosperous, but a number of private
schools lessens the number which would attend
the high school. FRANK VIVIAN.
d
Yoricville, S. C., July 18.
A fire would be quite pleasant up here this morning.
The thermometer for the past week has
been standing at noon at about 90?, the weather
warm and dry, and the farmers are beginning to
exhibit their peculiar uneasiness about the corn
crop and the possibility of -drouth. Last evening
heavy banks of dark cumuli hung in grandeur along
the whole Northern horizon, while the rays
of the sun gilded its edges in gorg'cousness and
splendor as it passed down the Western hills. This
morning it is cold, the thermometer standing at
57 degrees, cloudy, with the wind Northeast, but
no rain.
I find there is a general apprehension that much
of the wheat crop has been spoiled. It is designated
as "sick wheat," the flour producing cholera
morbus. Several families are reported as having
suffered from this cause. I presume the excessive
wet weather injured it in the fields before it was
gathered into the barns, and that fermentation had
taken place, and the grain became, to an extent,
decayed. The Southern planter has always been a
restless being. The weather was too hot or too
cold, too wet or too dry, the price of cotton too
low, corn too cheap, taxes exorbitant, freights extravagant,
doctor's bills, store and blacksmith's accounts
ruinous, and a long catalogue of vexations
and troubles crowd down upon this 'unfortunate
class of our people to constantly disturb their equi
librium. In these times of social revolution, when
labor is so uncertain, and Providence seems still to <
! frown, they look with deeper anxiety upon the ef- i
fects of the seasons, and the circumstances connected
with the growth of the crop. Many of
them have staked their all upon this year's exertions.
Their living and the support of their families
depend upon the result It is a home matter,
and to each one of them it is of serious personal
consideration.
The prosperity, I might say, the salvation of the
whole country, now rests with the agriculturist?
Commerce wields the products of the soil to sustain
her masterly power, and with her gigantic
hand grasps the garnered treasures of the farm,
and scatters them abroad in wealth, to supply the
necessities of mankind, and to gladden the hearts
with the luxuries of life. Under these circum- <
stances, we cannot condemn even an over anxious *
solicitation of producer and consumer, in. regard to
the present crop. A failure would he most disastrous.
Bankruptcy, commercial stagnation, pan
perism, starvation, and a wide-spread ruin would
be the legitimate result I cannot conceive of such
a condition among the Southern people. Consequently,
we hear many mournful speeches on the
comers of the streets, where "sweetness is wasted
on the desert air." I do not think the com or
cotton has suffered anywhere in this section yet for
rain, and I have a firm confidence in believing they
will not this season, and that the present consoling
and happy prospects for a large and abundant harvest
will be more than realized^
In my last letter I spoke of some of the natural
resources of this District I find I have not yet
enumerated half of what Divine Wisdom has concentrated
here for man's pleasure, comfort and happiness.
Future ages, and generations unborn, may
develop hidden and unexplored streams of wealth
which roll along their brambled shores unnavigated
and still undiscovered. The observer can, with a
prophetic vision, foretell the coming events that
must eventually open up a train of operations
which will concentrate here increased general intelligence
with industry, and an inherent power
which will force this section to a state of development
and perfection unsurpassed on this cortjnent.
Already the wise and good are engaged in disseminating
knowledge and contributing to the elevation
of human character by their honest efforts. The
Miss M. 's, who are Charlestonians, have a flourishing
private school, and by their active industry are
exercising a most refined influence among the la-.
dies ol the place, ?ney disseminate true leunuuK
and general intelligence within the circle in which
they move, and are inculcating principles and fapts
that will bless the country in future ages. Poverty
often proves a blessing to an individual, and
that individual poverty a source of great wealth to
a nation. Had Aloys Senefelder been able to pay
his publishers, tbe uses of the Kilheim stone
might to-day be a mystery, and Lithography still
unborn.
I am truly sorry that so many estates have been
swept away by tbe cruel verdict of bloody and lamentable
civil war, but I am proud, on the other
hand, that there are still noble and gallant spirits
unshorn of their majesty and rising triumphant
above the sturdy waves of oppression and despotism,
to honor their creation and benefit their race. I
believe that heretofore no mention has been made
of my lady acquaintances. This delinquency is attributable
to home associations, partly to old age,
and especially to neglect. These are the diamonds
that crop out all along these mountain ridges.?
They are found in all the geological systems of this
region. They are of all forms and every size, some
leetle tuxy ones and full grown; others (and they
are in profusion) are tall, running up six feet on
the side of a mountain, and filling a whole dyke.
Many of them are pretty, well developed, with
ruddy cheeks, pearly teeth, ruby lips, flowing
curls, as accomplished, as comely, 9s lovely as
Dido, the "divine maiden," as beautiful as Cleopatra,
as faithful as the unfortunate Octavia, and
tfith the eloquence of Hortensia.' ' These Druid
' damsels are the attraction of a beautiful mountain
home. Their delicate hands prepare the sumptuous
repast The arrangements of the parlor and
bed chamber exhibit the elegance, taste and beauty
of a palace; of Minerva, ^hey often worship at
the shrine of the Muses, and entertain their guests
with delightful song, and the twilight hour is filled
with the inspirations of the divine goddess. The
possesion of a fifty thousand dollar gold mine erabraces
the value of the glittering casket They
Wo tn fipnnlr nf nn?. , J-i n
"Who i'ell in battling for the rights of the South.?
Some of them are not yet reconstructed and have
no affection for the present Government They
entertain you as well upon the history of the times
as when personifying the rustic Prosepine, the
fairest daughter of mother earth. They seem willing
and ready to contribute in any manner to relieve
their suffering friends in this terrible struggle,
and willingly forego pleasures to assist the poor
and needy. They sometimes sacrifice their comfort
of home to aid in some charitable enterprise.
The Rev. Mr. Sams, the pastor of the Episcopal
Church, opened a Parish School in the village last
spring and invited the poor to avail themselves of
j its instruction. Many of them, desirous of an education,
were rejoiced at the privilege. His school
wis soon crowded, and the youngladies of his congregation
volunteered their services to assist him,
and one of them each day appears in the schoolroom
to teach the indigent boys and girls of Yorkville.
What a noble example of charity and benevolence
1
I alluded ~in a former letter, to many of the natural
resources of wealth in this district. ' I omitted
to notice its water power, which some day may be
brought into requisition, and drive millions of
wheels and spindles for various manufactories.?
The Broad River winds along its Western boundary.
Its shores are studded with immense fields '
of gold, iron, lead, and copper. It is a stream fur- i
nishing power sufficient to run machinery for manufacturing
all these rich products. The interior is
cut in every direction by smaller streams, but also
possessing natural advantages of uncommon beauty '
and excellence rarely to be found in any country.
In the Northern part we have Buffalo Creek, a
large, handsome stream, heading in a bed of mica
slate, in North Carolina, and pouring its crystal
waters through the intercolumite series, washing
the base of Whitaker's Mountain, and dashing along
until it enters into the Broad. Lower down
we reach Clark's Fork, a stream of more considerable
dimensions, and also running off West, oyer
immense lamina of talcase slate. Several large
flouring mills are situated along this creek, and
near Mr. Crawford's are found beautiful specimens
of jasper and striped agate. Valuable whetstones
are in abundance. Still traveling to the South, we
soon reach the high bluffs of Bulloch's Creek. Its
waters roll along down, too, to the Broad River, over
rugged beds of greenstone and porphyry. We also
have Dearlitde Creek, King's Creek, too, coming
from its limestone home in North Carolina. In
many places occur hornblends slate resting upon
the sides of granite hills, intersected with milky
quartz, containing gold. On the Eastern side of
the Distinct we find Allison's Creek, whose head
waters gush forth from a talcon slate region, and
gathering strength and volumS from numberless
streams that bubble up from a thousand ravines, it
winds its way to the Catawba through gorges of
limestone, iron ore, slate, copper and auriferous
quartz. There are many good mill seats to he found
along its course, and water power for immense machinery.
The beautiful and romantic Catawba
bounds the Northeastern borders, and rantringa*
cross the Southeastern corner passes off into Lancaster,
to blend its waters with the Wateree. Valuable
and never failing water power is not wanting
for the hand of the capitalist to engage some cunning
workmen to employ its agencgHn doing the
behests of improvement and ofilisstioit.
York District stands upon a base of erystaline
granite. It presents as many interesting geokgi- . *
cal sections as any spot on earth. New beauties
stand out in bold and striking array at every 3tep,'
and the naturalist cap read its future history in her
tall oaks, her lympid streams, her flowing beds;
her rugged cliffe, her mineral deposits and vegetable
productions. Oh I for a just and honest ppaee,
while we develope her rich treasures and decorate
and adorn her beautiful hills and lovely vales with
comfortable cottages, the quiet and sacred, homes
of enterprise and industry.
~FRANK VIVIAN. -HOW
TO GET A HUSBAND.
From an excellent communication published in
the Columbus (Miss.) Index, of June 8, we oopy
the following, "expressly for the giri<n"?>, ,
Dm"nor r?M nrwl t.TiAnrfnm. nlWtwAfj * KnmM firr
teasing the girls on matrimonial subjects, I consult
them aboat their future prospects often, and find
that the opinion obtains with thenr, that the young
men were never so slow in proposing .as in these
days; which, we must admit, gives them a good,,
not to say all-powerful reason far not taking a husband.
Now, young ladies, the.whole secret with
nine-tenths ofyou, of ndt being able to get off your
parents' hands is simply this: you don't know how
to work. Tou can't keep house. You can't make
a pair of breeches. You can't tell, for the Efe of
you, the difference between the bran and shorts,
or which cow gives the buttermilk. The young
men generally came out of the war "with the
of their teeth," with no fortune, I might any, bat
their wardrobe, of gray and their canteens, and
to marry witft?om now, rest assured, relates more
to making a living with the assistance of a'lovfng,
industrious help-mate, than indulging in ope?
music, moonshine and poetry. Do yon know what
they say of one of your butterfly young ladies, ,
who has held them in the parlor engaged by the
hour listening to "elegant nothings?" Nineteen
times out of twenty it is this, - "Well, she is all
right for an evening's entertainment, bat she will
not make a good wile!" ^
There is no possible objection to the accomplishments
of music, painting, and the like, as such,
but the idea is to be able to set these parior amusements
aside for the period when the stern duties
of married life call for your practical knowledge.
Show the young men that you can do your part
of double business; that you can cook a meal's
victuals on a pinch; that you can sWeep up and
dust, and dam old stockings, and save a penny toward
an accumulated pound; that yqp will not be
a dead expense to him through lifiv Believe me,
young friends, as many true^heroic, womanly
hearts, beat over household duties, as flutter beneath
the soft light of a parlor chandelier. Tour
kiss is just as sweet, your smile just as bright,
your heart as happy and tender, after a daj .. exertion
in a sphere worthy of true womanhood,, as
in places of dissipation, frippery aqd silly amusement
Have an ambition to do your part in life;
cultivate industrial habits, and let the parlor accomplishments
go with the higher accompfahmertts
I have roughly enumerated. It is atftbnisbing
how soon a domestic young lady is found out and
appreciated. It is because she is such a rare exception
to the general rule. . '
DID IT EVER OCCtR TO YOUf(:
That the main source of revenue of a newspaper
is its advertising patronage, and that the subscription
list, and sale of papers each morning, do but
little more than pay for the paper used in printing
! And yet men?sharp financiers and business
men?think nothing of going into a newspaper 4ffie
and requesting a notice of their waxes abdrfflfer
cnanaize, or or some maicernr per scneme oy ww
they hope to realize something, not thinking they
are asking for so much money out of the proprietor
? Such cases occur every day, and it would be
just as reasonable to step into a ttpre and ask the
merchant for a bag of coffee, a dress pattern, or a
ham, or anything he has for sale. The netifcjiiaper
is not wholly a philanthropic institution, , as
veiy many persons are disposed to regard ji Tt
dispenses a vast deal of charity, bat is not conducted
exclusively for the benefit of the community in
which it ffl toratfd . Same return may jaot unreasonnbly
be expected for the goodthafc fe*opght:to
be done by the labor bestowed upon, and the capital
invested in, a well conducted joarnsL A large
expenditure is neoeesa^ to the pubUcai&^qf, a
newspaper. Every line put in type oost money,
and must be paid for in cash?there is no creditun
anything that goes into the printing and publishing
business, and notwithstanding this feet, inconsiderate
people have complained that newspaper bills
are presented too promptly. A moment's reflection
will convince such, that unlimited credit is unreasonable
and should not be expected. Another
popular error has obtained, of which the mimfeof
the innocent public should be disabused, that
newspapers should be thankful for something to
"fill up" with! Such is frankly admitted to he the
case, when that1 'something" can behadafc regular
advertising rates, but in the absence of such' a consideration,
there is no difficulty whateye*ih obtaining
matter, both original and selected, with which
to fill a newspaper's columns. .
The foregoing, from the Atlanta IntdUgencer,
finds au echo with us.
JOHN QUINCY ADAMS' MOTHER.
"Twelve or fifteen years ago," says Ex-Govern
irr l.A TTT.A! i. aX - f1M. TOn nlrn
or JJnggH, "1 ien ty aamugwu uuw ur iuui nroia
in the Spring. While at home, I possessed myself
of the' letters of Mr. Adams' mother, and
read them with, exceeding interest I remember
an expression in one of the letters addressed to
her son, while yet a boy twelve years of age, in
Europe. Said she: "I would rather see you laid
in your grave, than you should grow up a profane
and graceless boy." ?
"After returning to Washington, I went over
and said to Mr. Adams: (I have found out who
made you I"
"What do you mean ?" said he.
"I replied, 'I have been reading the letters of
your mother."' - - ? - *
"Had I spoken of that dear name to some fittle
boy who had been for_ weeks away from his dear
mother, his eyes could not have flashed more
brightly, or his free glowed more quickly than did
the eye and face of that venerable old man when
I pronounced the name of his mother. I????1
up in his peculiar manner, and emphatically said:
'Yes, Mr. Briggs, all that is good in ae I ovre to
my mother." _ 5,
"Oh, what a testimony was that from this ven- erable
man to his mother, who bad, m hia remembrance,
all the stages of his manhood 1 "AH that '
is good in me, I owe to my mother f Mothers,
think of this when your bright eyed little boyifcabout
Mothers make the first impressions upon
their children, and those are last to be effaced. "
t&T John Minor Botts made a speech at Cfulpeper
Court House, recently, in which ho declared
himself in favor of universal suffrage, universal
education and universal amnesty of the rt&i&'and
file of the late Confederate army. He advised the
colored people to* send five of their own color to
the Richmond Convention on the 1st of August.
He expressed himself emphatically against confis- *
oation.
4