Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, June 19, 1873, Image 1
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lewis m. grist, proprietor.! ^it |nbcpcitbeitf Jfamiljr ^Ithjspapcr: J;or tjje promotion of % |)?litical, Social, Agricultural anb Commercial Interests of % Sonfjr. |terms?$3.00 a year, in advance.
"V"OIL. 19. YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JTJISrE 19, 1873. 35TO. Q5.
fleeted ?0Cttg.
THE SOUNDS OF INDUSTRY.
I love the banging hammer,
The whirring or the plane,
The crashing of the busy saw,
The creaking of the crane;
The ringing of the anvil,
The grating of the drill,
The chattering of the turning-lathe,
The whirling of the mill ;
The buzzing of the spindle,
The rattling of the loom,
The puffing of the engine,
And the fan's continuous boom;
The clipping of the tailor's shears,
The driving of the awl?
The sounds of busy labor,
I love, I love them all.
I love the ploughman's whistle,
The reaper's cheerful song,
Tlio drover's oft repeated shout,
As he spurs his stock along;
The bustle of the market-man,
As he hies him through the town ;
The hallo from the tree top,
As the ripened fruit comes nown ;
The busy sound of threshers,
As they clean the ripened grain.
And the husker's joke, mirth and glee,
'Neath the moonlight on the plain;
The kind voice of the dairyman,
The shepherd's gentle call?
The sounds of active industry,
I love, I lovo them all.
. For they tell my longing spirit
Of the earnestness of life;
How much of all its happiness
Comes out of toil and strife.
Not the toil and strife that fainteth,
And murmnreth all the way ;
Not the toil and strife that groaneth
Beneath a tyrant's sway;
But the toil and strife that springeth
From a free and willing heart?
A strife which ever bringeth
To the striver all his part.
O! there's a good in labor,
If we labor but aright,
That gives vigor to the day-time,
And a sweeter sleep at night;
A good that bringeth pleasure
Even to the toiling hours;
For duty cheers the spirit,
And the dew revives the flowers.
(Ariflhwl
4G>" ~ -=>
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
JOHN'S WIFE.
BY E. YICTOBIA LOMAX.
CHAPTER XVI.
The conversation was general for some
time; but "Mr. English" soon arranged matters
so that he and I were separated from the
rest of the party. He then said?
"I have heard very often of an old box-tree
on the Elmwood lawn, which is cut in the
shape of a bird. Would it be asking too
great a favor of you to show it to me now ?"
"Certainly not," said I, thinking this would
be a good opportunity for me to ascertain his
plaus.
"You must be very much attached to this
place, Miss Leslie," he remarked, as we passed
down the lawn.
"Yes, I feel as if Elmwood were an old
friend, and am sure I should grieve over its
loss, as I should do that of a person I loved."
"I feel both pleasure and pain in hearing
you say this; pleasure that you appreciate
my property so highly, and pain that I am to
be the cause oi your losing it. It is useless
for me to attempt a disguise with you any
longer. You know I am your step-father,
and you have sense enough to keep this knowledge
to yourself?not for my sake, but for the
sake of others. I shall not insist upon your
IpRvincr Elmwood immediately: butvou must
recognize the fact that you will have to do so
before very long."
My heart was too full for me to answer
m him ; but he did not seem to care for a reply,
for he continued speaking?
"I wish you would tell John not to cut any
more timber off the upper end of the farm.
If it is not put a stop to soon, I shall have to
mention the subject to him myself; and as
that might lead to some unpleasant revelations,
you had better manage it."
The insolence of this request was more than
I could stand.
"You are mistaken in the persons you are
dealing with, sir," said I, indignantly. "We
do not recognize your right to our home, and
shall not submit quietly to having it taken
^ from us. You may find more obstacles in
your way than you think, when the time
comes for you to 'take possession,' as you
seem so confident of doing. Do you intend
remaining in this neighborhood for the present?"
"Yes, I shall remain until I obtain possession
of this property. I understand ray debts
have all been paid, so I have nothing to fear
in that quarter. May I ask what you intend
doing ?"
"I have not yet decided. I hope you will
not annoy us by your presence at Elmwood."
"Why, I am coming to see you very often !
It is but natural a father should like to be
with his children."
I turned from him in disgust, and walked
to the house. He remained silent all the way;
? 1 * ' t 1
but l could see be was looaing arouna, as 111
taking an inventory of the property.
On joining the party in the parlor, we found !
only Mr. Howard and Mary. She was looking
distressed, while he seemed to be rather
triumphant, I thought. Before leaving, he
turned to me and said?
"Miss Mattie, I heard from our friend Owen
Morris a week or two since. He was quite
well when he wrote."
"I believe, then, I have the most recent intelligence.
I received a letter from him last
Friday."
"Ah! indeed ! Did he speak of returning
to this country ?"
"Yes; he will probably be here in the autumn."
I do not know what prompted me to say
this ; but I felt I was speaking the truth. I
knew that he would come home, for I intended
asking him to do so. My recent interview
with Mr. English convinced me beyond
1 1 . .1-! T 1J A ? e-:nnA !
a aOUDt loai J. WUUIU SUUU uccu a uicuu, auu |
where could I find one better or truer than :
Owen Morris ? My remark had an effect on
both of our visitors. They exchanged glances
as I spoke, and I saw then there was some understanding
between them. They very soon
took leave, much to my relief.
Nellie came into my room later in the day,
with an open letter in her hand.
"Oh ! Mattie, I have to go home. Harry
is very ill, and I must go at once. Here is a
letter from Mrs. Marsh, the house-keeper, and
she begs me to come immediately. "What
shall I do?"
"We will both go to him, Nellie. I can
leave aunt Patsy in Mary's care. Shall we
leave this afternoon ?"
"Yes, we have bright, moon-light nights,
and we will not mind being out late. I am
so glad you are going with me."
It was decided we should leave Elmwood
| in an hour. I regretted the cause, but could
not help feeling relieved, that I was to be out
of the neighborhood for a short time. I knew
Mr. Walker would take no steps while I was
away, and it gave me a longer time to think
over and arrange my own plans. Of one thing 1
I was certain?I must write for Owen to come j
home.
We had a long and anxious ride, but were .
fully repaid when we witnessed Harry's pleas-'
ure at seeing us. We found him much bet- J
1 . .Ml ffa nf!
ler, out sun sunermg iruui n ???cic auovn ui
acute rheumatism.
The next morning I rose early to write my
letter to Owen. It was a much more difficult!
task than I had anticipated. I did not wish
him to think, in asking him to return, that I
intended to renew my engagement; and yet,
I did so long for his presence. I concluded
the best way was to write exactly what I felt,
and then, if he misunderstood me, it would be j
his fault?not mine.
I had finished my letter, and was about to
leave my room, when Nellie entered.
"I have come to ask a great favor of you,
Mattie. Harry and I both wish you to remain
with us at least two or three weeks, and
longer, if you will. It is time now that John's
wife should feel some of the responsibilities of
married life, and I think it would be the best
thing for her to have charge of a household.
If you do not like leaving aunt Patsv, we will
send for her to come here. In fact, we will
do anything to keep you with us."
"You know, Nellie, darling, how glad I
should be to stay; but Mary is so inexperienced
that I am afraid she cannot manage the Elmwood
household without me."
"Let her try, at auy rate, Mattie; if she
finds she cannot, then she can write for you.
But you ought to stay, when you know you
will be such a comfort to me."
"Give me a day to think it over, Nell, and
then I will tell you what I have decided on."
"Very well ; as long as you please, so you
consent to stay."
After thinking the matter over, I concluded
it was best for rae to remain. I knew that |
Mary would not really need rae, even though
she might think so at first. If anything were
to happen to Nellie in her coming illness, I
should never forgive myself for having refused.
So I staid at Clifton.
I wrote home immediately, and told them
of ray decision. I received a loving answer
in reply, saying they were glad I had remained
with Nellie, and they would keep me fully
advised of all that transpired at home.
I had been at Clifton about a month, when
I was very much surprised by a visit from
"Mr. English." As soon as we were alone,
he told me that his plans were all matured,
and he intended making himself known to his
family. He naturally came directly to Clifton,
and hoped I would use my influence in
inducing Nellie and her husband, to receive
him in a friendly manner.
"I shall do nothing of the kind, Mr. Walker,"
I said ia reply to this. "If you choose
to thrust yourself upon us in this way, the
consequences must rest with you. Any shock,
in Nellie's present delicate state, may prove
- ' ? ixi n A.
fatal to tier, ana i Know 01 none greiuer ur
more repugnant to her feelings than the discovery
that you are her father."
"I suppose there is no reason why I should
not tell Mr. Worthington ?"
"Yes, there is. Will you return home, or
will you remain here, causing misery, and
perhaps death, by your presence ?"
"Don't put it so strong, my dear young
lady. Remain here! of course I will. You i
had much better let me manage this affair my
way. You will find that it is the best in the
end."
"Aud what is the course you intend to pursue?"
"To remain here for the present, and make
myself as agreeable as possible to my dear
daughter aud son-in-lnw. But I see we are
about to be interrupted, so I will leave you."
As he closed the door, my attention was attracted
by hearing some one moving in the
far corner of the room. There was a sofa,
which was partially concealed from our view.
Imagine my surprise, on approaching, to find
Nellie lying on it perfectly insensible. She
had heard our conversation!
I called for assistance and had her removed
to her room, but it was some time before she
revived. The death I had spoken of, only a
few moments before, was near us now. An
overwhelming sense of the desolation it would
bring came over me, and I could only cry in
mv miserv?
"Forsake me not, Oh ! Lord !"
CHAPTER XVII.
Do any of my readers know what it is to
watch the sick-bed of one you love almost as
your own life ? To see the burning fever feeding
on that loveliness, which even now, when
a prey to disease, seems almost heavenly in
your eyes? To know for the few short hours
left to her on this earth that delirium, with
all its wild dreams and fancies, will run riot
through her brain, and not one loving look or
one kind word be spoken for you to hold in
loving remembrance through the long and
dreary life which is before you, if bereft of
her presence? It is well that we are not often
tried in this way. The strongest faith might
almost sink beneath the load; aud so it is that
God, in his mercy, spares us, lest we should be
"weighed in the balance and found wanting."
Nellie's baby was born. It was a daughter,
and as I took the little child, the first tears I j
had shed since Nellie's illness, rushed to my |
eyes. But I controlled myself. This was no j
5me to give way. It might yet be that one j
moment of consciousness would be hers, and I j
must be near then, for I was the only one who |
knew that her father had caused her death. J
May God forgive me for my hard thoughts1
toward him !
For three long weeks did the fever last, j
without her having one lucid moment. Her 1
ravings were all of "that man," and her in- (
cessantcry was?"Don'tlet him take me from ;
you, Mattie." And then she would say, in an !
excited raauner, "I did not know it, Harry !
I did not know it! Will you believe me?";
Poor Harry! he was almost heart-broken. I j
never witnessed such devotion.
The sun was just setting. I was looking on
the bright and beautiful world, lighted up by j
its dying rays, when I thought I heard my j
i name called. Nellie had remained quiet for j
nearly an hour, and I hoped she was sleeping. I
But when I heard that voice, even in weakness,
I knew it was her3. I hastened to her
and said?
"What is it, darling? Are you better?" j
"Mattie, is he here?"
"No. He left that day, soon after you were
taken sick."
"Is he coming again ?"
"I hope not. But you must not worry
about that man. It will be all right. Shall j
I bring you your little daughter ?"
"No. I would rather not see her yet. You ;
must name her 'Mattie,' and you must take
care of her for me. Will you promise me
this ?"
"Yes, darling."
"Now call Harry."
"I think you had better wait for a little
while. I am afraid the doctor will think I!
have been letting you talk too much, already, j
I will tell him to come as soon as you have
taken another nap."
"Oh! Mattie, don't you see that I am not i
going to get well again ? That is why I
would not let you bring me the baby. It is
grief enough to part from Harry; but my
precious little child that I have so longed
for! It is hard to give her up, is it not? j
But you must let Harry come to me soon, or ,
it will be too late."
As I turned to leave her, I saw the doctor
and Harry standing near. I beckoned Harry
to take my place, as the doctor and myself left
the room. His first question was?
"How long has she been conscious ?"
I told him, and also what she had said
about herself.
"I think differently," said he; "if we can
only keep her perfectly quiet, and she can
sleep, I think she will recover. But we must
be careful not to thwart her in any of her
wishes, or seem to disagree with her in her
opinions as regards herself. I trust that her
life may yet be spared."
"God grant it may! But it seems now to
Ifang by such a slender thread, that it is almost
like hoping against hope to think so."
"Your sister has a strong constitution, and
that is everything in her favor. You must
not let Mr. Worthington remain with her too
long. I think you are the best nurse she can
have for the next day or two, if you think
vou can stand the fatigue."
w
"Oh ! yes. I can stand anything, now, ray
heart is so light."
When I rqfurned to Nellie's room, I found
her lying asleep in Harry's arras. He motioned
to me not to disturb her; and finding
I could do nothing, I went to look after the
baby.
It was ray first experience of having a
young baby in the house; and as I looked at i
that small red specimen of humanity, I found
myself wondering if any of the "beautiful
babies," I had so often heard young mothers
speak of, looked like this, in the beginning.
But I had overcome ray dread of letting it
fall, and of its putting its eyes out with the
little knob of a hand, which seemed to have
been made for the express purpose of being
crumpled up so as to look as little like a hand
as possible. I could manage very well as long
as it kept quiet; but, dear me! when it did
commence to wriggle, what a powerful risk it
ran by being in my hands. I was glad when
its nurse came to my relief, though I was beginning
to love my little niece and namesake
very dearly, I must confess. She was rather
redder than I liked to see her at her advanced j
age. The fact is, my heart was so light at j
Nellie's improvement, that i leit as n tnere
was nothing to annoy or distress me. I forgot
all the trouble which was in store for us, and
remembered only that?/ie was spared.
She awoke much refreshed by her nap, and
after sending Harry away, I seated myself to
watch her during the night. I suddenly remembered
that I had a letter from Mary
which I had-not read. I was glad to hear
from home, and also to think that I had something
to interest me ; for now that my mind
was at ease, I found it much more difficult to
keep my eyes open, than when my heart was
filed with anxiety or dread.
I opened the letter, and its contents were as
follows :
"Dear Mattie: We were much obliged for
the nice, long letter you sent us yesterday, and
delighted to hear that darling Nellie is no worse.
Wo are getting along quite well. John laughs at
my house-keeping, but aunt Patsy says I do yery
well. I do not think I shall ever like it, though ;
so you must come home the first ininute-vou can
bo spared. Not for that reason; but there are
some other matters here, which I think require
yourattention. On two occasions, since you left,
I have been sitting up reading to aunt Putsy, and
each time, as I went upstairs, I met the man John
hired. He said he came down for some water;
but I do not believe him. Has John any valuable
papers in his desk ? I thought I saw this
man examining it the other day. I am afraid you
will think T am very silly to write you this; but
it has worried me so mucn, I thought I would tell
you. We all miss you exceedingly, and will be
so glad when you can come home. John and
aunt Patsy send love. Yours affectionately,
Mary Leslie."
CHAPTER XVIII.
The next morning Nellie was decidedly
better, and I took advantage of the first opportunity
to introduce Miss Mattie Worthington.
I can never forget the expression of
Nellie's face, as I placed her child in her
arms. The tears would come; but the bright
smile was there, too, as she pressed her lips to
the little face and remarked?
"My own darling!"
"I am glad you like her, Nellie; I was
afraid you would be disappointed in her ap- :
pearance. She is not much for beauty, as j
you can see."
"Why, Mattie! 1 tlnnK sue is lovely : oee
what dear little hands and feet, aud such
beautiful brown hair! I don't see how you
can say she is not pretty."
"You forgot to mention her sweet expression
; look at her now as she is trying to screw :
that poor little face up to the crying point, j
What do you think of thatt I have always !
been surprised at this performance in a young
baby. They seem to make deliberate prepa-1
rations for a cry, and it is not until they have !
turned as red as a beet, both fists in the air, 1
feet ditto, and the rest of the body in a col-:
lapsed state, that they utter a sound, aud I
then?"
"Mattie;, you shall not talk so about the
baby! I know you think she is as great a
beauty as I do."
"Maybe I shall one of these days; but at
present I can only give her credit for most
extraordinary vocal powers. Let me take
her away. When she is asleep I will bring
her to you again."
Nellie seemed reluctant to give her up;1
but she was too weak to make much resist-'
ance, and I soon had the "beauty" removed I
out of hearing.
. It was about a week later, when, one day,
Nellie said to me?
"Mattie, please tell me more about that
man. Is he really my father? I am strong
enough now to hear all you can tell me."
I "Yes, Nellie, he is your father;" and then
I after telling her all I knew, I added: "I do
not think he can remain in our neighborhood
many weeks longer, and as there is this prospect
before us, you had better not mention it
to Harry until matters are more decided. I
heard from Mary lately, and as she seems
anxious for me to return, I think I will do so,
now that you can get on so well without me.
I will write you what occurs, and hope soon
to have some good news to tell you."
"I am afraid I shall get on very badly
without you, Mattie; but I know it is more
important for you to be there than here.
Harry has promised to take rae to Elrawood
as soon as I am well enough to travel. But
when will you leave us?"'
"To-morrow afternoon; that is, if Harry
can send rae then. I suppose you could not
spare the baby; it would cost you too much to
give up the great enjoyment of gazing on her
intellectual features."
"I hope she may be the image of you, Mat
tie, as a judgment upon you; then 1 shall tell
every one how you abused her when she was
a baby."
That evening I received the following letter
from Owen Morris:
"Dear Mattik: Your letter has been received.
Are you sure that your mother made no other
will? I know that her severe illness prevented
her from doing so, after her husband left her;
but perhaps she had* made another previous to
this. You will probably think it strange that in
this event she should have been so anxious to regain
the paper which her husband had in his possession
as he left the house. But as you know
she was ill at that very time; and it is possible
her mind may have become so much excited and
confused, by his violent manner, that she forgot
the will which had been made, more recently, in
favor of her children. It appears to me this is
worth enquiring into, and when I think how
much depends on this will being found, I can
scarcely resist the impulse to go to Elmwood and
assist in your search. Not but what a much
stronger motive would prompt me; but 'ou have
forbidden me to speak of this. I shall have business
in New York the first of next, month, and I
shall hope to find a letter from you awaiting me
there. Let me know if I can be of any service;
and whether I can or not, write for me to come to
you. I have been very patient, dear Mattie, all
these long years; let me oe rewarded now ! You
are mistaken in thinking Mr. Howard a friend of
mine. He is merely an acquaintance, and one
that I was not at all prepossessed with. My direction
is ?Broadway, New York.
Yours truly,
Owen Morris."
I knew that a letter mailed to him from
Elmwood, would probably be interfered with,
so I seated myself at once, and wrote:
"Your letter is just read. You told me to write
to you, if ever I needed a friend. Will j'ou come
to me? I have not time to say any more now.
When you come, all will be explained. Yours
truly, Mattie Lesi.ie."
Owing to an accident to the carriage, I did
not reach home until quite late at nignt.
John and his wife were both sitting up waiting
for me, and I thought I had never seen Mary
look so lovely. Her face was lighted up with
pleasure at seeing me; and I could not doubt
the truth of the words, as she threw her arms
around me and said?
"Oh ! darling, I am so glad you are at home
again."
We had not much time for conversation
that night; but the next morning I asked
Mary if Mr. Stone was still sleeping in the
house.
"Yes," she replied, "and I think he is averse
to any other arrangement. He always seems
to have some objection ready, when John proposes
that he shall take possession of his own
house."
"There must be some reason for this; all we
can do for the present is to watch him closely,
and if we find him wandering about the house
again at night, we will let John know of our
suspicions."
I had been at home a day or two, before I
thought seriously of the suggestion made by
Owen Morris. I knew that John had all the
papers relating to the family, in a secret drawer
in his desk ; and when I remembered that
Mary had seen Mr. Stone looking at this desk
very closely, I could not help fearing that he
was trying to ascertain if there were any secret
compartments, in order that he might be
better prepared for a search, if ever an opportunity
occurred. But still this was only a
suspicion on my part.
I did not see how I was to get along without
telling Mary all I knew myself. She evidently
suspected something was wrong; and I
thought, perhaps, if I gave her my confidence,
she would be more willing to give me hers,
and the mystery regarding Mr. Howard and
herself might be explained.
We were sitting in aunt Patsy's room ; the
old lady was fast asleep. John had retired,
and as there was no reason to fear interruption,
I thought that the best opportunity I could
have of telling Mary our family history. She
was much less astonished than I thought she
would be; but it was all explained when she
saia?
"I have known, for a long time,some of the
facts you have mentioned, Mattie. When
cousin Richard heard I was going to marry
John, he wrote to me, thinking the letter
would reach me before the marriage took
place; but it did not. In this, he told me he
had your mother's will in his possession, and
that she had left Elmwood to Nellie's father,
who was then in Cuba, where cousin Richard
had met with him."
"And have you never told John this ?
"No, I did not like to. I know how strange
my conduct must have seemed to you, Mattie;
but cousin Richard always held the threat
over me, that if I refused to see him, he would
bring the whole matter before the public, and
we would be turned out in the world homeless
and penniless. I thought I might persuade
him to give up the paper to John, and let him
arrange affairs; but after that night at Clifton,
I saw it was useless, and I have never
mentioned the subject to him since. Have I
cleared myself in your eyes?"
"Yes, darling. You know I never doubted
you. My only fear was that he might compromise
you in some way. If I had known
you as well then as I do now, I should have
had no such fear. But why did he endeavor |
to make the impression on others that you J
were in love with him ?"
Mary's face turned crimson as she replied?
"I once did think I was in love with him,!
Mattie. It was years ago, when I was almost
a child, and long before I saw John."
"I suppose he is trying to make something
serious out of what was a mere fancy on your I
part."
"Yes; but I wrote him some letters then
which he has now, and he will not give them j
up to me."
"I am sorry to hear this, Hot that it will
* a- 1 a. ...1 l_ ^
make any auierence 10 us ; uui wiieu we mairies
Henrietta, I am afraid he may make an
! improper U9e of them. Why have you not
told John of this ?"
"Oh 1 Mattie, I was afraid he would not
love me as much if I did, and I have been so
unhappy about it."
"You are a little goose, Mary; 'not love
you !' He could not help loving you, now;
not if you had written a thousand letters before
you saw him. I know he will laugh at
you when he hears it. But what do you
think of Owen's suggestion? Is it worth
while for us to look for another will ?"
"I should say we ought, certainly. Suppose
you and I look over, and arrange John's
papers for him to-morrow ?"
"I should be very glad to do so."
As we went up the steps we thought we
| heard some one moving on the landing above
us, but when we reached it no one was there.
John readily granted us permission to assort
his papers. We found them in dire confusion,
but that was soon remedied. I examined
every nook and corner in the desk, and
could find nothing relating to the Elmwood
property, except a small slip of paper, on
which was written, in my mother's hand writing,
the following date : "November 4th
17?." This was a few weeks after Nellie's
birth, and I could not help hoping this date
referred to something of importance; but I
could dud nothing more relating to it.
. [to be continued next week.]
?Uadiag.
. KU-KLUX PROCLAMATION REWARDS.
Report of the Commission Appointed by
the Governor to Examine Claims and
Make the Awards.
State of South Carolina,
Executive Department, [
Columbia, March 25,1873. )
To Messrs. C. D. Melton, J. D. Pope, R. B.
Elliott, D. JI. Chamberlain and James A.
Dunbar, Attorneys-at-Law, Columbia, S. C.
Gentlemen: Under the recent act of the
General Assembly to make an appropriation
to pay certain rewards offered by the proclamation
of Governor Scott, dated July 26,
1871,1 am required to pass upon the validity
and legal sufficiency of the several claims presented.
I desire to place these claims in your
hands for examination, and .to have a report
from you as to which, if any, of these claims
come up to the requirements of the act in
question.
By such report from you, or a majority of
you, I propose to be guided in making the
awards. I enclose you a copy of an official
opinion given by the acting attorney-general.
I desire a report at the earliest practical moment.
Very respectfully, &c.,
(Signed,) F. J. MOSES, Jr.,
Governor of South Carolina.
Columbia, S. C., May 29,1873.
To his Excellency Franklin J. Moses, Jr., Governor
:
By your Excellency's commission, it was
referred to the undersigned to examine the
papers pertaining to the claims of sundry persons
for the payment to them of the rewards
offered by proclamation of your predecessor,
Governor R. K. Scott, for the apprehension
and prosecution of parties who were participants
in what was known as the "ku-klux
conspiracy."
Upon an examination of the papers, we
found that the parties who had been apprehended
and prosecuted, in reference to whom
the rewards were claimed, were of three classes,
to wit :
1. Parties who had been apprehended and
prosecuted to conviction.
2. Parties who had been apprehended as
conspirators but had been used as witnesses
for the prosecution of others.
3. Parties who had been apprehended and
were under indictment but not yet convicted,
and others as to whose guilt proof was furnished
but who are not yet under indictment.
In the first class, the parties for whom the
rewards are claimed numbered iuz; or me
second class, the number was 40; and of the
third class, the number was in excess of
100.
After a very careful examination of all the
papers pertaining to the several claims, the
committee concluded to recommend to your
Excellency that, out of the appropriation
made by the General Assembly and placed at
your Excellency's disposition for the payment
of the rewards, the claims for payment as to
parties of the first class should be first paid ;
that claims for payment as to parties of the
second class should be next paid, and that the
remainder of the appropriation should be
awarded to claims as to parties of the third
class.
The committee further report, after a very
patient and careful examination of the claims
of the several claimants, that they have made
the awards as follows :
To Major Lewis Merrill?
Convictions, 47, at $200 each, $9,400
Accomplices, 40, at $200 each 8,000
Total $17,400
To Mr. Thomas M. Wilkes?
Convictions, 35, at $200 each $7,000
To Mr. H. H. D. Byron?
Convictions, 6," at $200 each, l,20o
Total awards, $25,000
In reference to fourteen of the parties enumerated
as convictions, the committee have
made no award, the claims not presenting satisfactory
proof that the claimants wete entitled
thereto.
The committee have not as yet been able to
consider fully the claims for the rewards in
reference to parties of the third class, and
must ask your Excellency's further indulgence
in the making of the awards. .
" -1 1 ?? ? i_i ?,:u
upon Uie COUCiUSIOU Ol uur juuuis, we will
report fully to your Excellency and in detail
the results of our investigations and as to the
rules which have governed us in our awards.
We respectfully recommend that the several
amounts, as hereinbefore stated, be paid to
the claimants, Major Merrill, Mr. Thomas M.
Wilkes and Mr. H. H. D. Byron. We have
a record of the * as to whom these awards '
are made, which .?e will furuish to your Excellency
with our final report.
Very respectfully, &c.,
(Signed,) C. D. MELTON,
JOS. DANIEL TOPE,
R. B. ELLIOTT,
D. H. CHAMBERLAIN,
JAMES A. DUNBAR.
Columbia, S. C., June 10, 1873.
To His Excellency'Franklin J. Moses, Jr.,
Governor:
Sir: We have the honor to respectfully
submit the following supplemental report of
our awards as commissioners appointed by
your Excellency to investigate and pass upon
the claims of sundry persons, for the payment
to them of rewards offered by proclamation
of your predecessor, Governor R. K. Scott,
for the apprehension and prosecution of parties
who participated in what was known as
the "ku-klux conspiracy."
We met on the 5th instant, and proceeded
to consider class No. 3 of such claims, the
only class we had not disposed of at the time
of making our previous report. Upon examination
we found that there were one hundred
and twenty-two claims presented. The bal|
ance of the fund for distribution being much
: too small to make awards for all the cases that
we found meritorious, we were compelled to
I adopt, as nearly as possible, an equitable pro
rata; and, in making our awards, we acted
upon the principle of giving each claimant
the full two hundred dollars for the number
of claims we had adjudged him, taking that
number from the head of the list, leaving the
remaining claims undetermined. Upon this
principle our awards were as follows:
James Canton, six cases, $1,200
Colonel W. H. Brown, eight cases, 1,600
Major Lewis Merrill, twenty cases, 4,000
Total amount, $6,800
Leaving a balance of $100 of the fund undisturbed.
This occurs from the fact that the
award to the commission was an uneven number,
and we could not make an award for half
a case. The sum total of our work is, therefore,
expressed as follows:
First award, $25,000
Award to commission, 2,500
Second award, 6,800
Total, ."$34,900
Total fund, $35,000
Amount awarded, 34,000
Balance of fund, $100
A copy of the rules adopted by the commission
for their government in making the above
awards is hereunto attached.
All nf wViinli laVoono/itfnllr anhmittpH
(Sigued,) JOSEPH DANIEL POPE,
ROBERT B. ELLIOTT,
D. H. CHAMBERLAIN,
C. D. MELTON,
JAMES A. DUNBAR.
RULES.
1. That it was the intent of the Governor's
proclamation that persons should be induced,
hy the reward offered, to cause the apprehen-'
sion of the guilty parties and to procure and
furnish to the court the proof whereby to
convict.
2. That in all cases where parties have been
convicted it is assumed that the proof was
sufficient to convict. That in all cases where
parties were used as witnesses, themselves
shown by confession or otherwise to be conspirators,
it is assumed that there was in their
cases proof sufficient to convict; and that, in
all cases where parties have been arrested, and
are now under indictment, it is assumed that
there was prima facie proof to convict.
8. That in all cases where the claimant
shows that he was the party who furnished
the proof to convict, it is assumed, in the absence
of proof to the contrary, that he was
also thd party who caused or procured the arrest.
4. That mere proof by a claimant that he
made the arrest, as a deputy marshal, is not
sufficient to entitle the claimant to the reward,
without proof that such claimant was the party
who caused or procured the warrant of arrest
to be issued and who furnished the proof to
convict.
(Elliott and Dunbar dissenting.)
5. That in all cases where a claimant bases
his claim upon the mere fact of the arrest,
and such a claimant was a deputy marshal, it
is assumed, in the absence of proof to the contrary,
that he merely executed the warrant
as required by law, and that he was not the
moving party in the execution.
6. That in no case will the reward be apportioned
between two or more claimants except
when it shall appear that the acis of the
several claimants, considered together, make
a complete case of moving the prosecution
and furnishing proof to convict.
7. That the awards shall be made :
1. For parties convicted.
2. For accomplices who were used as witnesses
for the prosecution.
3. For parties who are under indictment,
or, if not uuder indictment, when proof is exhibited
by confession or otherwise sufficient to
convict.
? +
From the Columbia Phoenix.
IMMIGRATION?A FEW REFLECTIONS.
Mr. Editor : Please publish the following
extracts from a letter received from the upcountry
on the subject of immigration. They
are interesting, and may assist us in our present
move, and in opening our eyes to the mistakes
we have made in our efforts at immigration:
A Farmer?Dear Sir: Your article, "Redemption
of South Carolina," in the Phcznix
of June 3, fell into my hand and I read it
very carefully. I am a German, and have
lived in South Carolina since 1859, and am,
therefore, interested in immigration. You
say that the whole matter is in our hands, and
if we fail, the fault is, as always has been, our
own. This is true, as also your statement in
regard to climate and other advantages, which
South Carolina possesses over many other
States. Now comes the question, What must
be adopted to gain a portion of that immigration
? It has been tried often, and as often
failed. Now why has it failed ? There must
be some cause. Let me try, in my poor way,
to explain why the immigrant (at least the
German,) does not like to live in the South.
The Southerner, who is able to hire, has been
educated to slavery; the black man was his
subject, over whom he could rule, almost, as
he desired?in a word, he was his slave. But
now he is free, and the black man, ignorant
as he is, wishes to become a master, too; at
least, he cannot understand the real differecce
between employer and employ^. He only
sees the difference of color. He has to be
trained; but that is a task the present generation
will not succeed in. On the other hand,
the white man, for reasons above stated, being
used to absolute control, does not really understand
the difference between employer and
employ^?the reciprocal duties and benefits,
and you will pardon me when I say courtesies.
Now comes thedifficulty. Let us take, first,
A "1 ? #/V 1_ 1 _ A.
a case: ii man ana wire sees eiapiuyurem?
Germans?and find it in a family?he as general
servant, she as cook. They labor, first,
under a great difficulty, by not understanding
nor being understood, and are often the objects
of laughter, which hurts a poor man as
well as a rich one; however, he works faithfully
in the yard, the stable, the garden, <&c.;
in fact, is handy wherever he is put, and does
his work well. His wife is a model cook,
clean, &c., and both very honest, and receive
together 815 per month and board. Should
it happen that a few black persons are employed
about the house, they are permitted to
domineer over and make fun of our houest
white immigrants. Another case: A planter
wishes ten good stout German laborers, and
succeeds iu getting them, (for they come over
to work.) Does your planter enquire before
they arrive about their habits, customs, &c. ?
Oh, no! They are hirelings ; 1 pay and feed
them, and there is an end. People who hire
out have no business, except to obey my will
and pleasure. Well, they arrive. Dirty outhouses
are shown them, containing a bundle
of straw; then comes a man along, and gives
each one a peck of meal, and perhaps something
fat and dirty looking, called bacon.
This is to last you for a week. None of them
ever saw corn meal before, nor bacon iu such
a form. Then they must worry themselves
with cooking that mess, and go to work. Now
comes your plan of giving away lands. I am
sure the gentlemen who originated the plan
mean well, and are well wishers to the State
and to the immigrant, and if carried out properly,
will work well and become a benefit to
the State, the land-owner and the immigrant.
How the plan is to work, I am uninformed;
whether these lots should be in certain neighborhoods,
close enough together for the immigrants
to build themselves a church, a school
house, form societies; or whether it is to be a
scattered affair, to please this land-owner or
the other, to have one family here, the other
two miles away, a half dozen in this county,
and another in another. If the last, then the
scheme will not work. When the German
immigrant comes over, he is at first very homesick.
He hears a different language, sees different
manners, and has to change his habits
very considerably. Then, unless you can get
neighborhoods close together, where they can
assist and console each other, build themselves
a church and school, (these two being the first
things a German neighborhood wants,) and
when their work is done, visit each other?
unless these things are done, your enterprise,
laudable as it is, will fail. I pray Goa you
will succeed. We have a few men in this
State who know how the thing is to be done,
and if they have the managemont of it, the
thing can be done; and if once started in certain
localities, other settlements would soon
follow. The State would soon be settled from
sea to mountain; and then we or our children
would see, indeed, a land where milk
and honey flow, the grape on many a hillside,
hops, tobacco, barley, and every thing that
can be dreampt of.
This 1 wrote in the spur of the moment,
after reading your article, without once stopping,
just as the thoughts came to me. It is
to be private to you. Should you find any
hint contained herein worthy of enlarging
upon, and then be of benefit to immigration,
I shall be very happy. Please pardon, and
believe me a real well-wisher to your undertaking.
1 ? ?
An Agricultural Convention.?A na
tional convention of farmers was recently held
at Indianapolis, Indiana, under the auspices
of the Patrons of Husbandry, an organization
that is assuming proportions ana influence.
This organization is secret, and took
its rise in the North-west, two or three years
ago. It is composed of real farmers, and in
the first instance they associated themselves
to achieve two purposes, one to escape the
middle-men, and this they seek to do by appointing
agents, who act for them in tne cities
and towns, and by concentrating their
whole patronage on a few tradesmen, with
whom they make special contracts, buying
their dry goods of one, their groceries of another,
their hardware of a third, and so on ; the
other object is to cheapen the freights to market.
These are taking ideas with farmers everywhere.
Middle-men abound in all the
States, and combinations among railroad companies
have made freights universally high.
For these reasons, there has been no difficulty
in enlisting farmers in all the States, though
chiefly, as yet, in the West and South, in the
ranks of the Patrons of Husbandry. The
resolutions adopted by the convention were
more conciliatory toward railroads, and seemed
inclined tn wait the issue of the contest in
Illinois. The Secretary, making his third an*
nual report, said that there were 10,000 societies
in the Union, two-thirds of which had
been organized in the past six months. Counting
an average of forty members to a society,
this gives a muster roll of 400,000 farmers,
who may be considered united for the protection
of their interests as a class. New societies
are being formed qpd reported weekly,
aud within a few months, probably by the beginning
of winter, the organization by counties
and States will be well in progress in from
one-third to one-half the States of the Union.
*
Women who aee Late.?It is related of
a distinguished lawyer, who observed that his
wife always delayed ten or twelve minutes before
she came down to dinner, being loth to
lose so much precious time daily, he commenced
the composition of a work, which he prosecuted
only while he was thus Kfcpt waiting.
The result was, at the end of fifteen years, a
book in three volumes quarto, whichmas met
with a large sale, and is much esteemed. "An
Old Bachelor" quotes this little story, and
proceeds to analyze the disposition which
leads to annoying delays: It appears to me
that it is woman's chief study to be late. The
trial of man'B patience is with them a matter
of the nicest calculation. It is not that for
mere sport they like to see how long an unfortunate
husband will wait, great-coated and
hatted, while they are adjusting their bonnet
strings ,r it is not that they take a wicked
pleasure in causing the poor man's dinner to
cool and spoil, before they will consider themselves
ready to come down and partake of it;
it is not" for these reasons that thev keep the
robuster sex dangling. It is only for the
purpose of trying their consequence with the
hapless lords of creation. It would be most
unwomanish to be ready to go out exactly at
the same moment with one^ husband. He
would not know he had a wife, if she were to
study his convenience so far. As for the
trouble which sisters and daughters inflict, it
is all one thing. The creatures are only trying
on brother or father the powers which
they are ultimately to exercise in full vigor
.on a husband. The "natur of the critter" is
to give trouble to mankind, and it matters
little on what kind of relative the instinct
operates.
The Size of the Abk.?Infidels have objected
to. the size of the ark; have asserted
that is absurd to suppose that ever there
could be a vessel constructed large enough to
hold all the creatures which must haveoeen
placed in it, with sufficient food, it may be,
for six or twelve months?water for fish, corn
for the four-footed animals, seed for birds,
and so on. Now we will take the dimensions
of the ark from the records of Moses, and calculate
them on the lowest possible scale.
There are two definitions given to a cubit; one
that is 18 inches, or a foot and a half, and the
other that is 20 inches. Wc will take it only
at the lowest Moses states that the ark was
300 cubits long; this would make it 450 feet
long, or about the length of St Paul's cathedral,
London. The breadth he states to be
50 cubits; we have it 75 feet in breadth.. He
states it to be 30 cubits high; so that was 45
feet high. In other words, it was as long as
St Paul's Cathedral, nearly as broad, and
half as high. The tonnage of the ark, according
to the computation of modern carpenters,
must have been 32,000 tons. The largest
size English ship, (of a size altogether unimaginable
to those who have never seen it,) is
3500 tons burden; so the ark must have been
equal to 26 first-rate ships of war, and if armed
as such ships are, it would have contained
beyond 18,000 men, and provisions for them
18 months. Buffon has asserted that all fourfooted
animals may be reduced to 250 pairs,
and the birds to a still smaller number. On
calculating, therefore, we shall find that the
ark would have held more than five times the
required quantity of food to maintain them
twelve months.
4 ? ?
Deceiving Children.?Never deceive a
child; if you once do, he will never believe
you again ; and mischief will be done that
years will not repair. Some silly mothers
promise their children anything and everything
"to make them good," (Heaven save
the mark!) never meaning for one moment
| to fulfill their promise; indeed, in some in!
stances, it would be utterly impossible for
J them to do so! Now, all this is the quintessence
of folly ! Be cautious, then, in making
promises to your child; but having once
promised, perform it to the very letter, for a
child is observing and remembering. Let
your child in after life be able to say: "Although
the world has oft, my mother has
never deceived mel" Verily, a truthful
mother is a blessing to her child!
t@F The most extensive stock grazer in Texas,
is Samuel W. Allen, who lives at Galveston,
and carries on an immense "ranche,"
forty miles north of there, shipping his cattle
to Galveston, and thence to New Orleans and
New York. He owns 500,000 head of longhorns,
and his freight bills over the railroad
during the month of March were $31,000
while on the steamer line they amounted to
$330,000.