Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. CtBist, proprietor.! Jnbejjcnbent Itetospaper: <$ar tjje promotion of % ||alitica(, Sacral, Agricultural anb Commercial Interests of tjje Sontji. -TERMS?$3.00 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 21. YOBKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, APRIL 29, 1875. ^ ISTO. 17. - 1 - - .... f JU ?rigittal Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. UNCLE BRAINERD'S WILL; OR, The Fortunes of Alice Lynn. CHAPTER XII. OAK LAWN. Let us now take a peep at old Mr. Chester, Alice's grand-father, as he sits one cold January day beside the fire in his cosy library, rummaging over some old papers he has taken from his secretary drawer, with his favorite pointer stretched on the rug at his feet. Mr. Chester, at the age of eighty-four, was a well-preserved, fine-looking old gentleman, strictly handsomer and more commanding in appearance than the portrait of himself, taken a score of years before, which hung over the mantelpiece, and which was pronounced a most excellent likeness by all who had known him at the time. For age had added both softness and dignity to his somewhat stern features, and the haughty pride that had once sat enthroned on his brow, and sparkled with all too vivid a lustre in his keen dark eyes, had given place to a gentler and more gracious expression. Sorrow had in truth done much to smooth off* the rugged points of the old man's character, and bring the milder emotions of his heart into play. One by one, the faces that in former days gathered around his board, had faded from his sight; the echo of glad voices died away out of his home, leaving the vast halls silent and empty, and the once cheerful hearth desolate and drear. Memories of the past flocked unceasingly around him. Old associations seemed to grow stronger as time wore on, until at last he lived chiefly in those by gone days, caring little for his present interests or surroundings. Checkered memories they were, in which sunshine and shade were strangely blended ; for if he had tasted of the joy of life, he had also tasted much of its bitterness. Mr. Chester had married, early in life, a lady of beauty and fortuue, to whom he had been attached almost from childhood. Their union was as happy a one as strong mutual attachment, and almost entire similarity of taste and feeliug, could make it. They had "???" nkiU.nn nnln fnitp nf u'linm QllrOlVPf] tiiaiij vuiiuivii) vmj ivu* wi hmv*u their infancy ; these were Robert, the eldest son, a proud and wilful boy, whose passionate, headstrong uature early excited his parents' fears concerning his future ; and next, after a lapse of several years, Anna, Emily and Frank, amiable and well-disposed children, affording a striking contrast to their elder brother in disposition. Robert had scarcely been freed from the bonds of parental authority when he entered upon a course of recklessness and dissipation which nothing could check. From one extravagance he rushed into another, until his father, weary of repeated and vain efforts to bring him to a 8eti8eof duty,sternly forbade his returning to the family homestead, where his example could only prove a pernicious one to those so much younger than himself, and where the influences of home had proved utterly powerless to stem the tide of his ruinous career. Robert took him at his word. He not only left home, but left the country, and nothing more was heard of him until years afterward, when tidings reached his father of his death in an obscure German town, where he left a widow and two children, in very reduced cir cumstances. To this unfortunate family JUr. Chester sent aid from time to time, until on the mother's death, the son and daughter came to America and presented themselves to his notice. Being of an age to provide for themselves, and extremely unattractive in person and manner, their grandfather experiencing no sentiment of affection for them, settled them in a town at some distance off, coldly informing them that having once furnished them with the means of commencing life in their new home, he could do nothing further for them, and did not desire any renewal of the intercourse between themselves and him. With this mandate they were greatly dissatisfied, having entertained much more ambitious views, in consequence of the accounts they had always received of his extreme wealth ; but the old gentleman troubled his head no more about them, having, in fact, very heavy trials at home to occupy his mind. His wife had died about a twelvemonth prior to the death of Robert, and he had scarcely begun to recover from the shock of this affliction, when his only remaining son, Frank, was killed by a fall from his horse while out on a deer-hunt with a party of friends. His two daughters were now all that remained to him ; and after two or three years, finding his home very gloomy and cheerless, he suddenly, to every one's surprise, conceived the resolu tion or marrying again. His second choice was a widow, no longer young, though considerably his junior; a good-looking, amiable, but somewhat weakminded dame, decidedly his inferior in every respect, who was the mother of one son, the Simon Fielding to whom the reader has already been introduced. A year after this marriage a girl was born to them, Alice, who became the pet and darling of the whole family, including the step-sisters, who, from the vast difference in their age, regarded her with almost maternal feelings. It was fortunate for her that such was the case, for her mother died when she was about three years of age, leaving her to their care; and between. her father and themselves she was spoiled and petted to her heart's content. Her stepbrother, Simon, on the death of Mrs. Chester, left Oak Lawn and returned to his father's family, who had offered to provide for him ; and little Alice saw him no more. Their paths in life were different, and though Mr. Chester had always been kind to the boy, his strong family pride revolted at the relationship between him and his daughter, and he desired, though gently, to loosen, as completely as possible, the tie that existed between them. Aiipd crrow nn infft a bpHlltv. nnsscssinp **"vv b,v" -*r ? j ' i o raany good traits of character, but early exhibiting a degree of wilfulness and pride that remiuded her father, with all too keen a pang, of his dishonored son. At an early age, she had one or two good offers of marriage, but refused thera,only to bestow her hand, against her father's will, on a young man of good abilities, but in an inferior class in life, whose means were barely sufficient for their support. Bitterly disappointed and incensed, the angry father gave full vent to his outraged feelings, and Alice's haughty spirit was aroused. She left home burning with indignation, and vowing never to appeal, in any case, for aid to the parent who had spoken such cruel things to herself, and of the husband she had chosen. Her sisters, too, had joined in the ineffectual remonstrance, and, kind as they had ever been to her, Alice resolved, that from henceforth they should be as nothing more than strangers. She cast them all off, turning, with almost idolatrous devotion, to the one for whom she had thus forsaken her home and broken every tie of the past. Of her subsequent life, her early widowhood, her wanderings, and the trials of poverty to which she was exposed, a faint sketch has already been presented to the reader, and it is not necessary to fill up the outlines farther. Suffice it to say that in all the hardships she endured, she never once swerved from her resolve to abide uncomplainingly by the results of her own choice, and not even, for her child's sake, could she so far conquer I her pride as to seek for aid from her father, j ! whose resentment she supposed to be as bitter j against her as ever. And so the little Alice was left to her half-uncle's care, and it was I not until long afterward that her grandfather j discovered her whereabouts, or indeed knew i of her existence at all. To return now to the January day on which ( ! Mr. Chester, sitting in his library at Oak 1 : Lawn, was busying himself in looking over 1 old papers, now casting useless ones into the ! Hames, now pausing to study documents of | more importance, and anon, leaning his head ! upon his hand, ceasing his occupation in orj der to indulge in the retrospections which I many of these papers brought to his mind. ( i Here was an old, yellow bill of Robert's, al- , I most illegible from age, which had been j. i brought to hira for payment, and had hidden ( | itself in the recesses of the drawer into which , j it had been angrily thrust, through all these , long years, now startiug up like an unquiet j ghost toconfront him with memories he would ] ! gladly have laid at rest for ever. There was a letter in the delicate handwriting of his first ; j wife, written soon after Frank's birth, while t i he (the father) was absent on a visit to the j city ; and the old man perused the faded lin?3, , ! until the tender, regretful thoughts they < j aroused brought a mistiness to his eyes that ' I obscured them from his sight. How plainly ] the happy family group arose to his view! < The mother, beautiful and stately in her still 1 youthful charms; the two fair little daugh- j ters, curly-haired and rosy-cheeked, pressing ( with eager interest to view the baby-brother J cradled in her arms, and vying with each ' other in caressing and fondling him, especially proud and happy wheu allowed for a few min- ' utes to play the part of nurse. Gone?all 1 gone! The last remaining one, Anna, his I gentlest and fondest child, had died of con- 1 | sumption ten years ago, leaving hira utter- ' j Iy alone. He sought farther, and out came ' I a crumpled fragment of a note, written in a J I round, childish hand, and commencing, "My i dear Papa." He smoothed it out and read? "I do want you so to come home. Sister * ! Anna took my dolly away yesterday because ' | I slapped her, and I cried till she gave her | back to me. Old Ponto is sick to-day. Please ( ! bring me a pink silk frock when you come. | Sister said I should not have plum-cake, f I please make her let me, cause I have got quite ( well. I want you to?" * The rest was torn off. There was no date, i j but he did not need one to tell him how long j a time had elapsed since the small, unskillful fingers had traced those lines. His little | | Alice, his baby, the child of his old age, the j darling of his flock. What tender memories J clustered round her name! How vividly now ! could he recall the form of childish grace, the ^ ! floating hair, the beaming eyes, the dancing J I step, that had made such a fair vision to j I brighten and adorn his quiet home; laughing ' tones, that echoed still in his ears ; the clasp | of dimpled arms wound fondly or coaxingly j around his neck ; pleadiug accents, suing for , ! some fresh indulgence, at first perhaps denied, | ! but almost always granted in the end. And | . j then in later years, the same face, more beau: tiful and matured, with its varying expres- | j sions of pride, tenderness, softness and defi; anoe almost in a breath, reflecting the eager, j ever-changing impulses of the wayward un- ^ i curbed spirit?ah ! there was bitterness rain! gled with the sweetuess of memory there, j ! Bitterness inexDressible. in remembrance of , the sad estrangement and angry parting, the j ! long years of misery and self-reproach, and j ( vaiu yearning that followed. Mr. Chester | * bowed his head and yielded to the tide of ^ i retrospect that rushed almost overwhelming! ly through his mind. A new idea, a new res- | ! olution, that had lately formed itself in his | ] thoughts, gathered force and strength as he i mused. It was but lately that he had learned, ! through an indirect source, that his Alice's 1 I child was living, and under the care of Simon 1 j Fielding, the step-son who had parted from ' him, a curly-haired youth, thirty-five years ago. With the knowledge, had sprung up a swift, eager longing to seek her out and bring her to his home, to fill, at least, one vacant place iu his heart. But he repressed it almost as it rose. Her mother had chosen to place ; her in the care of comparative strangers, why i not let her remain ? The child was doubtless i attached to them, while perhaps she knew not ' i even his name, or, if she did, had been taught j to shrink from it in fear and dislike. And ; how did he know but that iu receiving her, | ! even if she were willing to come, he might be |1 I ? 1 i.:~ I A ; 1 receiving a serpem iuiu ins uoaum, wuu nuuiu ; j turn and sting him in the end. So his inborn j ^ I pride, his stern will argued to crush down j ! the yearnings of nature. But the pride was I J weaker, the will less inflexible now than in j j I former days, and the claims of the heart were !' j not so easily put aside. In his loneliness, he longed, oh ! how intensely, for some one to ' j love, some one to cherish him in his declining : years. He was a very old man now, and the : time could not be far distant when the sura! mons must come for him to join those whom ; i he had parted with on earth ; and he shrank j from the thought of going down to the grave j without one near and dear to him, to watch j beside his bed when the shadow of death was gathering upon his face. So he mused and , ; mused, and the voice of the heart grew stron| ger as pride shrank more and more out of ! sight, and at last his resolve was taken?he i would seek this orphan girl, and, if she would, | bring her to his home, and she should be to him, in place of the daughter, whose loved j ! name she bore. Thinking upon this now, as , he sat beside his fire with no companion but ' i the dog at his feet, he could almost picture to himself a bright, fair face opposite to him, a : girlish form whose presence would cast a glow j and radiance, as of summer sunshine, about , j the solitary room. His heart expanded at the 1 : thought. He would write to her, send for her at once?where was the use of delay ? | I Or no, he would go himself. In spite of his age, he was still strong and vigorous enough j j to make light of such a journey, and if the I child saw him, she might the more readily ' consent to come. He would be so tender to her; so kind ! Surely, if he tried, he could ' win her heart. Full of the project, he started i up from his seat, hastily thrust the remaining papers back into their repository, and rang i j the bell for Oato, his old and tried servant, j' "Cato, pack up a few clothes in my bag, j and get yourself ready to accompany me on j j a trip to the up-country. I leave here to- ^ morrow morning for .Spartanburg district; I have particular business there, which may de/ -li n ! 1 j tain me ior several uays. "To-morrow, master; in all this cold weath- j' er! Ain't you afraid of getting your rheuma- j j tism back?" said the servant, in a tone be- : tween respectful remonstrance and the easy half-aflectionate familiarity which existed be| tween so many faithful slaves and their owners, i "Not a bit of it; I haven't had a touch of I j rheumatism for weeks, and this weather is not, too cold?only bracing. A few hours of brisk , travel will do me more good than being cooped j i up at home all the time?my blood wants ; stirring!" ,J I Cato thought, somewhat regretfully as he , left the room, that his blocd did not want stirring, and that he would much prefer remaining in his own comfortable quarters, at least till the "cold snap" was over. But his attachment to his master outweighed all other con-! ( siderations, and he would not for worlds have j consented to allow a substitute to go in his I : place, even had the alternative been proposed j i to him, for he thought no one could take care , of "master" but himself. | Nothing occurred to disarrange Mr. Ches| ter's plans, and on the second evening after- j ' ward he arrived at Berry Farm. 1 His consternation may be imagined, when he discovered that the grandchild ho had come to seek had mysteriously disappeared, j and that he could obtain no clue to her present location. The mingled grief and disap- [ pointment almost overcame him, but he roused j himself at the thought that exertion was nec- j essary, and that vigorous and effective meas- , ures must be taken without delay to seek out i the fugitive and bring her home. CHAPTER XIII. RAPHAEL PRESSES HrS SUIT. "Look here, Raffy," said Mrs. Broderick, entering the breakfast room one morning with a newspaper in her hand, which Bhe laid before his eyes, pointing to an advertisement in one of the columns as she spoke. Raphael, who was near-sighted, adjusted his eye-glass, and read the following: "Five Thousand Dollars Reward.?Left her tionje in Spartanburg District, on the 20th of last December, Alice Marion Lynn, aged sixteen years; is rather tall, of slender figure, and fair complexion, with dark blue eyes, straight fea iures and curling light brown hair; had on when die left a plain alpaca dress, high inorocco shoes, Lilack cloth cloak and brown straw hat trimmed with black ribbons. It is supposed that she was >n the cars which collided with an up freight:rain on the Greenville and Columbia Railroad >11 the morning of December 29th. As no tidings have been since heard of her, any information concerning her will be thankfully received by ner distressed friends, and the above reward paid for her recovery, or 81,000 to any person who can ?ivo certain information respecting her fate. Ad'ress Robert Chester, Esq., Ferryboat Station, barn well District, S. C., or T. N. Gravely, Solici:or, Columbia, S. C." "Dear me!" said Raphael, drawing a long breath, as he finished reading. "Why, that's i good thing for us, sister Martha, ain't it ?" "Good enough, if you'll act sensibly, and aot like a baby as you've been doing lately," said Mrs. Broderiek. "Five thousand dollars is a good thing, but fifteen or twenty thousand is better?don't you think so?" "Certainly," assented Raphael. "Well, if you marry the girl at once, nine;y-nine chances out of a hundred you'll get Jiat much, and more too." "Do you really think so ?" said her brother, loubtfully. "Think ! It's plain enough for any fool to see. I knew all along it was only a question >f time for the old gentleman to hunt up Alice ind make her his heiress, aud that's what has started him on the search now. But you see le's just a little bit too late in carrying out sis plans ; if he'd taken the notion of sending ifter her a few weeks sooner it would have seen the better for him, and the worse for us. Now I don't pretend to think that as your wife Alice will get a tenth part of the fortune die might have got otherwise ; but she'll get something, and something worth while, too. Dnce married, you can manage her as you ike, and make her get round the. old gentlenan easy enough, and win his forgiveness for narrying you, and if he doesn't come down sandsomely, sooner or later, I'm mistaken, ifou have the game iu your hands if you will sut play it properly. It's the luckiest chance n the world that that accident happened so lear our home. I knew at the time it would se the making of our fortune, if we turned it ,o proper account. During this harangue of his sister's, Mr. Chester turued the paper about in his hands with a thoughtful look. His cupidity was no ess than hers, but his prudence was greater. He believed in the ancient adage, "A bird in ,he hand is worth two in the bush," and was strongly inclined to take the $5,000 now, instead of waiting on the tempting but uncer;ain prospect of a much larger sum in the fn;ure. He was willing enough to marry Alice, out hi3 courtship thus far had proved trou-1 olesome, and as he was naturally indolent, he was in uo hurry to take farther steps in the ; matter. He was quite alive, however, to the j oecessity of something being done now with-! jut delay; so after a pause, he said, some-i what reluctantly? "Well, if you think so, sister Martha, I'll j speak to Alice again, at once." "Better let me speak to her," said Mrs. Broderick. "I don't believe you said half inz-.iirrl> tlio loot- time ftinnali vnil tnld mfi vnil I ^uuugu v..~ . ? v v.. , to" J did." "Really," said Raphael, with a somewhat Dffended air, "I think, sister, you take a little Loo much on yourself. You know I generally yield to your judgment, because I have faith in it; but sometimes I may be permitted to exercise my own. I am quite capable of speaking to Alice on this?ah?somewhat delicate subject, myself, and so, if you please, I won't trouble you to act as my mouthpiece." So saying, he stalked out of the room, his sister's eyes following him, as he did so, with ! a hulf-reseutful, half-contemptuous gaze. "Silly blockhead !" she muttered, when the : door was closed after his retreating figure; "he j may well say he geuerally yields to my judg- j ment. I don't think his is worth much. Well, he'll have to come to me iu the end, ! unless he's bolder than I think him. I would,! like to see him carrying on his courtship! j Pshaw ! how edifying it must be." And with a little sniff of scorn, the strong- j minded lady turned to her household occupa-! tions, while Raphael proceeded up-stairs on his delicate mission. Alice was obliged as usual, however reluc- ! tantly, to grant him admission, for her door ; had uo inside fastening, aud the key was nev- j er in her keeping. Her only greeting was a glance of aversion, and as he took a seat near ' her she involuntarily drew the folds of her 1 dress aside, as if he had been a lizard or bee- j tleshe feared might crawl on her. "Well, my fairest cousiu," commenced Ra- j phael, on whom these little marks of disfavor i were by no means thrown away. "How fares I it with you this morning?" Alice brieily answered that she was well. "I am rejoiced to hear it; but there is too much of the lily predominating on your cheek. I would rather see it wear the tint of the j blooming rose. What can we do to restore the vanished blush ?" "Let me go away," said Alice. "I shall j [lie if you keep me here much longer." "Die! may Heaven forbid," said Raphael, with an air of gallantry, but with an uneasy ; glance. He saw that Alice really looked iil j and worn, and feared there might be some i truth in her words. "No, my beautiful Alice, you will not die," j he continued, attuning his voice to the tenderest key of which it was capable ; "you will : live to bloom a charming flower, in the gar- j den of my heart, which I have already laid, I an humble offering, at your feet. Why will i you scorn the proffer of my love ? Do you j ? .1 ? ... i ; i not Know mat jour nappiuess is iu my Keep- : ing?" "I havealready told you," said Alice, turn-j ing indignantly aside, "that the idea of mar- j rying you is odious to roe. Why will you i persist in forcing the proposal upon me ?" "Because much depends upon your conseut j to do so," replied Raphael; "more than you ! have any idea of. Listen to me, Alice?your ! fortune depends upon this step; for it will lead to mine, and the two are irrevocably bound up together." "You are speaking riddles," said Alice, ! "and I have no wish to unravel them. All I j know is, that your arguments and representa- J tions are vain ; they can never have the slight-1 est effect upon me, so you may as well spare ' yourself the trouble of wasting your time and ' your breath." "Cruel!" said her suitor, assuming a raelo- | dramatic attitude. "Can nothing move your obdurate heart?" (What a pity Mrs. Broderick could not 1 have seen him, then !) "I have answered you already," suid Alice, and if you have nothing better to say to me, j I wish you would be kind enough now to leave ray room." "I would gladly accede to your request," he replied, "but there is too much at stake in this matter for me to relinquish ray suit so easily. Have you forgotten," he continued, bending nearer to her and lowering his tone, "the warning I gave you the last time I spoke to you on this subject?" "Your warning," replied Alice, with flashing eyes, "was as idle as it was cowardly and contemptible. I do not fear you, weak though I look and seem. You can do your worst; threats will have no effect on me." "Ah 1 do you take that tone, my pretty prisoner?" said Raphael, with a malignant look, for Alice's determined opposition aroused his anger, while her unqualified and openlyexpressed scorn, galled him to the quick. "Take care how you defy me?I have acted fairly and gently by you, but if you drive me to extremities you will find that I have means to enforce my wishes, and that I will use them, too." "Fairly and gently !" echoed Alice. "Do you call it fair and gentle treatment to shut me up in this gloomy house, and try to terrify me by base threats to submit to your odious propositions?"-' "You cannot deny," said her cousin, "that you have been kindly treated, both by ray sister and myself, in every respect, save the one of which you complain, and which is entirely the result of your own self-willed obstinacy." "And that cancels everything else," said Alice. "You can't expect gratitude for the paltry favors you have shown when you crown them by such cruel and unjust behavior." "Do you call saving your life a paltry favor r "Yes, if it is done from interested motives." "We did not even know who you were until after we had brought you home. My sister accidentally discovered it on the following day." "I dare say you thought, whoever I might be, that you would derive some benefit from your humane treatment of me," said Alice, sarcastically. Raphael's sallow face flushed at the taunt. "Take care," he said, warningly; "you try me too far. It is dangerous to insult those who have you in their power." "Danger or not," said Alice, "I am sick and tired of this useless discussion, and I wish you would put an end to it." "Your wish shall be strictly obeyed," said Raphael; "but take care that you don't revoke it before very long?the end may not be as agreeable a one to you as you anticipate." He then went down stairs to inform his sister that Alice was utterly impracticable, and that there was no prospect of her ever yielding tn their wiaheu "'ft "" "Then the alternative must be adopted," said Mrs. Broderick. "If we can't carry out our plans by fair means we must by forcible ones. Leave her to me ; in less than a week you'll find her as docile as a lamb." "But I hope, sister Martha," said Raphael, alittle apprehensively, "that you won't resort to any?any violence, or use means that may be turned against us afterward?you know we have to be careful." "Don't you suppose I do know it, simpleton ?" replied his sister. "We're playing for high stakes, and something must be risked ; but you can trust me to go far enough and 110 farther." As Alice was wearily trying to divert her thoughts a little while later by reading, Mrs. Broderick, with a severe face, entered the room. "Alice Lynn," she commenced in an austere tone, "have you properly considered the proposal of marringe my brother has made to you, and the consequences of your persistence in refusing it?" "Yes," replied Alice. "I have already given your brother my answer, and requested him not to trouble me uselessly any farther." "Very well," said Mrs. Broderick. "I now warn you that the consequences of your folly will be on your head. You have had an opportunity given you of entering, of your own free will, into an alliance which would be of the greatest benefit to you. You have refused to avail yourself of it, but you will find that the proposal you have scorned is not to be so easily set aside. Mark my words, and profit by them ! You will have a week longer given to you to reconsider your decision. If at the end of that time you persist in this stubbornness, you will, whether you consent or not, become his wife." / "You cannot?you dare not make me 1" cried Alice stealing from her seat. "It is not in your power to force me to take such a step! You are only trying to terrify me into submission, and you will never succeed." "You will see whether 1 am using idlej threats or not," returned her persecutor. "I j intend to begin at once the process of taming i your high spirit." Alice, though inwardly trembling, was re-! solved not to betray any signs of fear. Mrs. j Broderick then desired her to follow her out I of the room ; and Alice, conceiving it useless ! to offer opposition in any minor matters, silently obeyed. Her conductress led her up a j narrow flight of stairs, to a small, dark atic j room, barely lighted by one window, and containing no furniture but a cot-bed and a rushbottomed chair. "This chamber," she said, as she opened I the door for Alice to enter, "is assigned to you for the future. Perhaps a few days' sojourn in it, deprived of the indulgences which have hitherto been allowed you, may bring you to a closer sense of your duty." Alice shrank hack in dismay. "That little j den !" she exclaimed. ii ?:J *? __ T? l es, saiu iurs. urouericK, in ? who ui i satisfaction. "I shall not compel you to remain here, however, if you are willing to change your mind. There is still time for you to do so." "Never," said Alice, shuddering. "You may imprison, starve me, if you will, but you cannot coerce me into submission. "Very well," said Mrs. Broderick. "Then ' you will remain in here, and I hope you will { fiud it comfortable. Should you feel cold, I : don't doubt your heroic resolutions and lofty j pride will come to your aid and keep you j warm." With this taunt, seeing that Alice still hes- j itated, she took her by the arm and gave her a slight push forward ; then quickly retreat- ; ing, closed the door after her aud locked it on ! the outside. Left to herself, Alice looked around with a shiver on the cold, gloomy little apartment | ...u:?u .U U...1 iiiotltr millpi) a rloti A nvthllicr ' YYIIIUU 3I1C now JUOW; J ? more comfortless than the aspect it presented to her view could scarcely be imagined ; and from its very loneliness it inspired her with a feeling, if not exactly of fear, of timidity and nervousness which was not easy to bear. She climbed upon the chair and looked out of the window. It was on the opposite side of the j house to those of the chamber she had hither- j to occupied, but the prospect seen from it was not materially different; and close to the nar-! row and dingy panes waved a long, black, I forked branch of a dead tree, like a spectral arm with two lean fingers at the end. Alice ! quickly dismounted. She longed to draw a curtain over the window, to shut out that ugly waving bough from her sight, but no curtain was there. Her feelings of despondency increased as the day wore on, with no occupation at hand to divert her thoughts. One source of consolation, though a feeble one, was left to her?she put her hand in her pocket to take out her handkerchief, and found the letter she had written to Maurice. She recollected now that she had been read ing it over the day before, when she ha< heard some one approaching, and thrust i hastily into her pocket, where it had reraainec ever since. Had she left it in herroom dowu stairs, her only hope of commup|ation witl the outer world would have been destroyed and besides, had it fallen into Mrs. Brod erick's hand, it would probably have provet the cause of her being treated with additiona rigor. At dinner time the door was opened, ant Mrs.Broderick entered the room with aplat< of food and a pitcher of water in her hand "I don't want to starve you," she said as sh< placed them on the bed, the only availabh spot except the floor, "so I have brought youi dinner. How do you like your room ?" To this insulting inquiry Alice vouchsafed no reply, and with a sarcastic smile Mrs Broderick withdrew. The poor girl ate a fev mouthfuls of the dinner which had beer brought her, and took a copious draught o the water; after which she threw herself upot her hard bed, and pulling the covering ovei * > > i i?.11 _A ner, aressea as sne was, ieu, aner ? mue, um an uneasy sleep. From this she did not wake until midnight when she started up oppressed with a sudder and startling feeling of dread. The moor shone into the room, casting a ghastly lighi over the bare walls. A creaking, groaning sound, horrible to listen to, fell on Alice's ears. It was only the old tree outside, whost long arm swayed to and fro with a beckoning motion close to the window; but it chilled her very blood with terror, and unable ti bring reason to her aid to investigate tht cause, she cowered down again upon her pil low, drawing the covering up over her head to shutout all sight and sound. Thus passed therestof the miserable night, for sleep was effectually banished from her eyes; and nevei did mortal breathe a more fervent thanksgiv ing than she, when at last the first pale rays of the morning light appeared. (to be continued next week.) pstotjj of jf.. (fai'olimt. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE Early Settlement of South Carolina. BY BEV, BOBEET LATHAN. (CONTINUED FROM LAST WEEK.) The name of Joseph West is inseparably connected with the first settlement of South Carolina. He was appointed, as we have seen, by the proprietors, commander of the fleet which was to transport the first settlers to the State; and on landing, he was to have sole charge of the commissary department and the plantation on which the proprietors designed making experiments. On the death of Sayle he became Governor. How, or by what authority, it is not known. Probably Sayle and the Council, before the death of Sayle, made arrangements to the effect that West was, in the event of Sayle's death, to become Governor until further instructions were received from the proprietors. Sayle made his will on the 13th of September, 1671; and some time between that date and the 10th of April, 1671, West became Governor, Never was man better fitted for a position, ^ ' t t nr a /v _ al _i _r> /~i than uoi. dosepn west was ior mat 01 *jovernor of an infant colony. He was energetic, prudent and foresighted. On hearing of the death of Sayle, the pro prietor8 appointed John Yeamans, Governor This was on the 21st of August, 1671; hut neither Youmans, it would seem, nor the colo nista, heard of it until some time afterward Sir John Yeamans was the son of Robert Yeamans, who lost his life and estate on ac count of his faithfulness to the royal family of England. At the period that the chartei for planting a colony in Carolina was ob tained, John Youmans was residing in Bar badoe8. He had gone tbither to repair his ruined fortune. He was appointed Governoi of the Clarendon colony, with a grant of s l.'rge tract of land. The king also conferred upon him the title of baronet. He was madt Governor of Clarendon colony?which extend ed, in the language of the times, "from Caps Fear to the riverSaint Matheo,"?in the month of January, 1665, and landed in the autumc of the same year, with a colony from Barba does, on the southern bank of the Cape Feai river, in the present State of North Carolina He remained as Governor of that colony foi four years, and then returned to Barbadoes a .i i _a. r\ tt? His management or me coiony ai e>ape rem was highly creditable to himself, and satisfac tory to both the people under his care, and the proprietors. He ruled "with the affection of a father, rather than with the authority oi a Governor." Oil learning that a colony was planted at Ashley river?influenced hy the same desire, which, at first, directed his course to Barbadoes?he set out for that point. He obtained land grants, and brought with him in 1671, from Barbadoes, a number of negroes to cut lumber and work his plantation. These were the first negroes ever brought to the State. On the 14th of December, 1671, he appeared before the Grand Council and de clared that, since he was the only landgrave in the province, and in accordance with the Fundamental Constitutions, and also in accordance with instructions contained in a letter from the lords proprietors to him, he was Vice Palatine, and formally demanded the government of Ashley colony to be placed in his hands. The Council, without a dissenting voice, resolved that Joseph West should remain Governor of the Province until further orders and instructions were received from the proprietors. Cut to the heart by this plaiu dealing of the Grand Council, Yeamans relumed to Barbadoes, but shortly afterward he received a commission as Governor of Carolina, South and West of Cape Carteret, at present called Cape Fear. On the 19th of April, 1672, Yeamans was publicly proclaimed Governor. He continued Governor until 1674, when he was removed and West again appointed. During the period of West's first term, several things worthy of being remembered took place, The colony received reinforcements from England, from Barbadoes and from New York. A town was laid out on Stono creek, west of Charles Town, and near by it, The tract was to contain twenty-five acres, five of which were to be reserved for a church yard, and the remainder to be used for planting lots. In December, 1671, some additions r, tKo pnlnnv arrived frnni Now York amongst the number Michael Smith, a man of considerable importance. On the 20th of the same month, the Grand Council appointed Stephen Bull and Thomas Gray to assist Smith in selecting a place for a settlement. The locality chosen was on a creek south of Stono, and the name of James Town given to the settlement. The Wando river, by an order of the Grand Council, was examined with reference to its adaptedness for making settlements. Soon after a settlement was made at Charles Town, a tribe of Indians called the Kussoes, in conjunction with other tribes living southward from the town, became troublesome. From all that we can learn respecting them, they were greatly adicted to thieving. The fields, and no doubt the private stores of the colonists, were plundered by these uututored savages. It is also clear that their minds were inflamed by the Spaniards. From the first, the Spanish colonies bitterly opposed the English colony in South Carolina. As we have seen, Sayle and his men had 1 scarcely landed, when a Spanish vessel from 1 t St. Augustine entered Stono inlet with hos* i 1 tile intentions. During the first term of - j West's administration, in the very infancy of \ i the colony, they commenced intriguing with c ; | the Kussoes for the purpose of making the ( | Indians enemies to the English. Not that a 1 j the Spanish were moved with pity or com- t 1 | passion for the Indian ; not that they were f j grieved at heart because the Indian was ( 1 about to be driven from the hunting grounds e 3 of his fathers and the graves of his sires, ii . Nothing of this kind moved the Spaniards at I 3 St. Augustine to form a secret confederation a 3 with the Indians for the destruction of the g r Ashley river colony. s No people ever treated another as the 1 I 1 Spaniards treated the aboriginal inhabitants j of the New World. Every cruelty that sa- t ? j tanic hate could devise, was, without restraint, r i i inflicted upon them wherever they were met. g f | Spain, wherever she attempted to plant a col- 1 i | ony literally tortured the Indians out of ex- f r istenee. It is not claimed that the Ashley v > river colony treated the Indians in every re- o spect as a correct morality and an enlightened e , civilization enjoin ; but it is evident from the b i time, and all the attending circumstances, t i that in the first difficulty which occurred be- v t tween the English colony at Ashley river and ii \ the Indians, the latter were to hlanjgf No 1: J doubt there was a lively tradition of the cru- f 5 elties practiced by Velasques at St. Helena, ii \ one hundred and fifty years previous to that S' I time. The Indian retained in his memory, e > during life, the recollection of either a favor f i granted or an injury done. Sons were taught v - to bear eternal hatred to the enemies of their e I fathers. The Indian could not distinguish b I between the guilty and the innocent. Injured p s by one pale-face, his wrath was immediately r * kindled against every white man. The t French, under Ribault, treated the Indians i kindly, and they never forgot it. We may s safely say that the Indians never would have p maltreated the white settlers, bad they not p , been first wronged by the immigrants. No p doubt there were great differences in the li moral character of the various Indian tribes ; p but, generally, they made greater mistakes in ii punishing wrongs received, than in deciding fi as to what is right and what is wrong in the o intercourse of one individual with another, d The first salutation the Pilgrim fathers gave tl the Iudians at Plymouth Rock, was a shower ? of musket balls ; at Jamestown, in Virginia, o they were cheated and swindled ; in the Albe- ? marie and Clarendon colonies, in the present fi State of North Carolina, they were not justly g dealt with; by the Spanish, in Hispanola, h - L.-i-l J .U _ reru ana Mexico, tney were outcnereu as iue vilest of beasts only are. . 8< The tale of these injuries, we may well sup- a | pose, had spread from the sunny plains of the p , South to the frozen regions of the North, fl Warriors would, no doubt, sit around the fire h J of their wigwams and tell their children of n the evils the tribes had suffered at the hands b of the white men. All thecircurastances con- e spired to beget hatred in the bosom of the S Indian for the white man. The fault of the f< Indian was, that he did not discriminate be- a tween the innocent and the guilty. The fact ^ ! that the Spanish had injured the Indians, was if , no reason why they should wreak their ven- o , geance upon the English. Still, we find that n soon after the arrival of the colony at Ashley n river, the Kussoes manifested a hostile dispo- J sition. A constant guard had to be placed 1 | around every plantation, from the very begin- & ning. This, to a colony weak in numbers tl and dependent in part, at least, upon the pro- n duct of their fields for bread, became burdensome ; and even a guard did not prevent raids r | from these marauding parties. b Dailv. the Indfihs became more insolent n . J / ? and hostile in their bearing and actions, si | They would agree to no fair terras upon which n the colony and tribe could live together, as p r neighbors, in peace; but, on the contrary, 1 . threatened the lives of peaceable, and, we si may say, defenseless members of the colony, h In view of all the circumstances, it was J j deemed advisable by the Governor and Coun- a . cil, to take some decisive measures, by which s t the Kussoes and their confederates would be o I forced to live peaceably with the colony, and t! , deport themselves consistently with upright- \ ' ness and honesty. I ; On the 27th day of September, 1671, war I , was formally declared by the Governor and a , Council against the Kussoe aud Southward s . Indians. Commissions were granted to Cap- li . tain Joseph Godfrey and Captain Thomas fi Gray. They were instructed to prosecute the h . war "effectually," and the dispatch with tl which the Kussoes and their "coadjutors" . were subdued shows that these Captains obey. ed the orders of the Council implicitly, and [ executed them promptly. So soon as the ori dinancc declaring war was passed, hostilities I f began in earnest. There was no delay. Ste- P , phen Bull, who held the office of Master of a Ordinance in the colony, seized, by the order P of the Council, two Kussoes who were in town, a The colonists were ordered to rendevous and e the mych against the enemy commenced at e ' rrM :4:?~ ? nav7 SI j { once, mere who uu muuug iu <* u^n i suit of clothes or to cook up a month's ration ; A , | but each man set out, the moment he received a , I the order, for the seat of war. With such i> .! dispatch and secrecy was the expedition con, i ducted, that the Indians were not given any tl i time to prepare for it. The campaign lasted P . only from the 27th of September to the 2nd h , of October?four or five days?but the victo- v i i ry was as complete as if it had been prolonged d , for as many months. 8 i On the 2nd of October, an order was passed )s . by the Council that the prisoners should be " held by the individuals who had taken them, cl and that unless they were redeemed by the h i tribe, they should be sold and the proceeds of b the sale divided among the members of the g ' company by which they had been captured, si 11 This looks like the war orders of the olden j time, when the soldier got his monthly pay i out of the sale of the prisoners he took on the o: i battle-field. What was done in the present o ; instance, we do not certainly know. Some of n j the captives, no doubt, were ransomed by the ci I remainder of the Kussoes, while others were F I sold into bondage and became laborers on the si ' plantations of the immigrants. d j From this first military campaign, we may w 11 form some idea of the condition of things in * .l 1 \\t~ r?u. ?d ! Lilt! CU1UUJT. IT C may gaicijr wuuuuq wuau i the people had great confidence in the pru- ^ ' dence and good sense of the Governor and w , i Couupil. The fact is, Colonel West, the Gov- u ! ernor, was the moving spirit of the whole col- 81 j ouy. For a period of twenty years, he exer- * i! cised great power and enjoyed great privileges; * but neither were made conducive to his own p1 I benefit, exclusive of the public good. When " I war was declared against the Kussoes, the col- ~ ony must have been under good military dis( cipline. Most of the immigrants had, in the T ! language of a Latin poet, "learned the art of e.' I war in boyhood." They had been accustomed ^ ! to strife in some form or other in their native i laud. However well the colony may have J j been previously organized, this campaign 8 ' against the Kussoes influenced the Council to w j take into serious consideration -ways and li means for better protecting the lives of the w j inhabitants of the colony, and preventing the rc . property of the people from being stolen or | injured by depredators. - | Two days after the favorable termination of S' j the campaign?on the 4th of October?it was ordered by the Council that the powder be- I longing to the colony be destributed so as to tv be more safe and more accessible, in case of gi an invasion. Six barrels were ordered to be di stored ou the proprietors' plantation, under rj the charge of Godfrey ; three barrels in the b; house of John Yeamans, and whatever was et eft was 10 remain in tne proprieiurs ouurelouse. On the 26th of the same month an order vaa passed requiring every individual in the lolony, except the members and officers of the jrand Council, to appear in arms whenever ind at whatever place they might be ordered o parade by their respective officers. Any >erson who failed to obey the order of his Captain was, unless he had a good and valid ixcuse, to be heavily flned or severely punshed, as the Grand Council might see fit. Svery gun was to be put ig thorough repair, ind that this might be done, Captains were ;ranted authority to order, peremptorily, miths, whether freemen or slaves, to repair be guns. A list of those required to do patrol duty tad been previously made out, but for some eason many individuals had become negli;ent in the discharge of this important duty, kt this juncture of affairs it was thought roper to make out a new list. This duty j&s assigned to Thomas Thompson, Marshal f the province. He was required to inform ither, in person or by a note left at the f _J:_Jj.?i .L. ? lOUSe 01 Ule ILlUlviuutvi, tilt! pamuumi uuio bat each person ras to perform this doty of patching. It was provided that in case any odividual was sick, then the next man on the ist was to take his place. The fine imposed or neglecting to patrol was five shillings, and a case the defaulter was poor he was to be everely punished. The Marshal was allowd about seven dollars and a half per month or his services in this capacity. The pay pas to continue so long as the Marshal was raployed as chief of patrol, and to be paid y the inhabitants "proportionately." With ropriety might it be said, that the Ashley iver colony regarded "eternal vigilance as he price of liberty." The classical scholar cannot fail to see the triking resemblance of the colony during the teriod of Governor West's first term, to that lanted in ancient Carthage by the Tyrian irincess Dido. In the chaste and elegant anguage of Virgil, "necessity forced both to ilace a guard around their dominions." The ^habitants tilled the soil, built their houses, shed in the streams and took the-oysters out f the coves, clad in all the panoply of a solier. The men were, in the literal sense of he phrase, "citizen soldiers." The homes rhich now shelter us from the scorching suns f summer and the pelting storms of winter, rere purchased for us by our illustrious foreithera with a treasure more precious than old. It cost them anxious days and sleep288 nights. A&is always the case under similar circumtances, there were, no doubt, some individu1s destitute of moral character. An examle of thisclassof persons we find in Dennis lahoon, a servant of Richard Coale. Maoon plotted with the Spanish to the detriient of the colony. On one occasion, having een detected in his plans to escape from the olony and seek protection from the Crown of pain, he was apprehended and brought be>re the Council, but on confessing his guilt, nd declaring bis sorrow and penitence, be ras pardoned. From bis conduct afterward, ; was evident that his sorrow was only fear f punishment, for be was again detected in laking arrangements to escape from the coloy to the Spanish, and also in persuading ohn Rivers and John Cooke to go with him. 'he sentence of the Council was that for this scond offense, he should be stripped naked to be waist, and receive thirty-nine lashes on the aked back. In these days, when there is a store in evey neighborhood of five miles square, it may e interesting to know who were the first lerchants in the State and in what their tock consisted. Sometime after the settle neot was commenced at Ashley river?the recise time is not known?John Foster and .'horaas Gray formed a copartnership for the ale of general merchandise, to adopt the anguage of the present day. On the 13th of anuary, 3672, they dissolved the copartnerhip and divided the stock on hand. The * tock in trade in this first store in South Car- * lina consisted of eight servants, of whom, on he division, John Foster received Thomas Vitty, Wm. Davise, John RatlifTe, and Jas. >owell, and Thomas Gray received Prichard 'oore, Richard Barginer, Edward Howell nd Joane Burnett. The other part,of the tock consisted of deer skins, a few yards of inen, hoes, shovels, axes, picks, saws, chisels, rows, hammers, wedges, beef, peas, oil, hens, ogs, turkeys and one sheep. The most of be stock consisted in agricultural implements. [to be continued next week.] The Power of Dry Sand.?According to leaudemoulin, if a quantity of dry sand be laced in a box of thin sheet iron, or even in canvas bag, and subjected to a slight comression, it forms a mass capable of resisting pressure of sixty tons, without breaking or ven straining the envelope. The sand, howver, remains perfectly divisible, so that if a mall hole be made in the box or bag it will ow slowly, and with so little force that even small piece of paper pasted over the openig will check the flow, even with the sixty m8 weight upon it. M. Beaudemoulin thinks bis discovery may be utilized for building urposes, since the filled boxes need merely be eld in place by a frame-work; while being ery thick, they would form a protection for wellings against variations of temperature, uch walls, moreover, would be fire-proof. It i also suggested that for lowering heavy buildigs, or even entire buildings, which by a hange of street levels, have been left too igh above the roadway, the sand-bags could e placed beneath, and their contents allowed radually to escape, thus letting the load lowly settle down. Running for Office.?I never ran for ffice but once. At the earnest solicitations f some of my friends, in an unguarded molent, I allowed myself to be aSounced as a andidate for the office of Justice of the Peace, 'revious to this fool move, I bad been condered a decent kind of a man ; but the next ay, when the Bugle came out, it was filled ith accounts of my previous history that rould have curdled the blood of a Digger Inian. A susceptible public was gravely inirraed that I was not fit for the office, that I as almost a fool, besides I had come West nder very suspicious circumstances. I had arved my deaf old grandmother to death nd then sold her remains to a soap factory, had stolen a hand organ from a poor blind ripple and run away with the proceeds. I ad sold my grandfather's coffin for fourteen nllara an/I hnria/I the nlrl crpnf. in R hnot hfiX. o ? " q utter despair, I rushed arouud to headuarters, withdrew my name and swore asolun swear that I would never indulge in polios again. And I never will.?John Quill. ? It turns out that Ben. Butler's efforts to scure the passage of the Civil Rights Bill ere of the most selfish description. He beeved that under the provisions of that bill, henever denied admission to a hotel dining)om on account of the silverware, he could >read his character over his face, thus ren^fi&g-it blacker than the ace of spades, and j in as a negro. * 1ST A Western housekeeper who had raised 10 families, has discovered that children row more between January and July than uring the other half of the year. His theor is that the growth of humanity is governed y the same laws which prevail over the vegable kingdom.