Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, May 13, 1875, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

lewis m. grist, proprietor.J ^,n $nbcpcitbtnt Jamilg fjttfospaptr: Jfor % promotion of t|je political, Social, ^griniltnral aab Commercial Interests of ffje Soofjj. | TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IE ADVANCE. "VOL. 21. YORKVILLE, S. C., THUESDAY, MAY 13, 1875. NO. 19. ' - - * - ' * 1 !J L' ? U ?f !? I tinno TliasnrnnriaCnri) saw that West kfiDt Jto Original Jdotg. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. *?"'"UNCLE BRAINERD'S WILL; OK, The Fortunes of Alice Lynn CHAPTER XVI. LIFE AT ELMWOOD. Mrs. Delatour was a widow. She was a de scendant, as her husband had also been, of at ancient Huguenot family, and had many years before settled down in this pretty coun try home, in the vicinity of one of the pleas antest villages in the upper part of our State With much kindness of heart she mingled a large share of family pride ; and there wer< several reasons why she hesitated in offering to Alice the unlimited protection and hospi l:-L u i I_J laiiijr wxiicu wuuiu nave aa'uiueu vvuu uic desire of her son. She doubted the wisdom oi throwing ioto constant juxtaposition two young people who might easily fall in love with each other, since the idea of a marriage between them was not to be entertained for an instant. For beautiful and charming as she acknowledged Alice to be, she could not reconcile herself to the idea of one of the de la Tours so far forgetting hi<i. dignity, as to ^^h^htitf^i^^isnJUmtittrupon one of less illus^|0i^mPH^vhalever might be her intrinsic w?rth. On the other hand, she could not but b< charmed with the amiability and sweetness ol disposition which each day of her intercturse with the young girl served more fully tc develop ; and had Gervais been out of the question, she felt that it would add greatly to her happiness to have her constantly with her, for her son was often absent from home; and at such times she was very solitary, notwithstanding her assertion to the contrary. About three years before, she had lost a niece whom she had adopted in childhood, Marie Delatour, a lovely girl who had been very dear to her; and she felt that Alice, if she kept her with her, might fitly supply her place. Unable at once to decide, satisfactorily, between these conflicting arguments,she resolved to let matters, for a short time, take their own course, especially as Gervais expected to be absent for three or four weeks, in Columbia. She was not inactive, however, in supplying Alice's present needs. She furnished her with an abuodaut wardrobe, and would have pressed upon her acceptance a liberal sum of money; but this the young girl gratefully refused, saying that she required nothing more than she already had, and hoped, by her own exertions, to supply all future necessities. She was very anxious to obtain pupils, and Mrs. Delatour finding, upon examination, that she was quite capable of giving instruction in the plaiuer branches of education, succeeded in getting up a little class for her, among the village children, whose parents were very willing to take a teacher upon her recommendation. This class met at the house of Mr. Gleuinore, the Episcopal clergyman of the village, and Alice went there daily, at nine o'clock, to fulfil her new duties, which occupied her until half-past one, or two. Mr. Glenmore was an old bachelor; a rather eccentric, but extremely kind and benevolent man, and much beloved by his parishioners. He shut himself up a good deal in his study during the mornings, and thus it was that Alice, though daily at his residence, never met hue.until sometime after^he commenced to teach. One afternoon, hower, as she was crossing the front entry, he me out of his study, and encountered her st as she was putting on her hat in readiue to set out for home. "Miss Lyle, I am happy tooeet you," be commenced. Then suddenhstopping, he gazed at her with unraistakabjeuriosity and surprise. "Pardon me,' he said recoiring himself after a moment; "jour resembnee to some one I once knev is so very string, that for an instant I alnost thought myyes had deceived me. So exactly the sara!" he added with another scrutinizing look. "The hair, the eyes, the featirei?all, all th^ame ! But this is folly," hecoitinued as if peaking to himself. "I am forgetting how jany years have passed since thai. Excuse e, my dear young lady ! Yourface carried ie back to the days of ray youtl, so coraplety, that it made me forget my pod manners. Will you permit me to walk a ittle way withyou ?" Alice of course assnted. Mr. GUraore got his hat and stick, am they set oultogether. "Did I understanc Mrs. Delator to say that you were from the upper pat of the State?" he asked presntly. "Yes, sir ; I cameiere from Spar\nburg." "From Spartanbug! I was in aat district for many years before I cane here; but I don't reco'lect the name of ]yle up there," said the clergynan, musingly. "My father and raoberdied long ag," said Alice, quickly. "I lied there with soue relatives." "Were your parentsfrom that districhlso ?" To this question Aice replied, withtruth, that she did not know for she really we uncertain where ber graid-father's home wa situated, and was not sue either that be night not be speaking of sor.e other family o: the same uame. "No sir, from the lo* country." \ "From the low-couary !" he repeated jith another glance of interet at her face, '^re you?pardon my curio;ity?any way relied to a family of Chesters down in Barnwe^?" "It is to one of that ainily," continued be clergyman with some hesitation, "that Jui bear so strong a reseublauce. It was tkit circumstance that mark me think you raigfct be related to them. Many years ago I kn*v one of them well?a very lovely young ladp You are almost her counterpart. I faucTo .when I first saw you that she was standiq ibefore me. She has been dead, I believe, fo some years." He sighed as he spoke, an walked on more quickly, looking straigb ahead. Alice's heart beat. Could he bespeafc ing of her mother? She thought it very like ly, for she knew from a small picture she ha or ner motner in early youth, that she di strongly resemble her. She felt greatl tempted to find out whether her surmise ws correct or not, for her heart warmed towar any one who had been her mother's friendperhaps in this case more than a friend, jud? iug from Mr. Glenmore's evident emotion i speaking of her ; but she remembered the m cessity of preserving her incognito, at least fo the present, aud was silent. Mr. Glenmore presently introduced sora indifferent topic, and continued to chat in i pleasant, fatherly manner, until they came t the outskirts of the village. "Here I must bid you adieu," he said, hold ing out his hand, "for I am going to see i sick parishioner, and my way branches off ii the opposite direction to yours. I am verj glad to have met you, and I hope iu futur< we will not be such strangers to each other.' From that time he made it a point of see ing her every day, for a few moments, whil< she was at his house, and often accorapaniet her a part of the way home. He had evi dently taken a great fancy to her ; but Alict could not help thinking that he must have been an old lover of Mrs. Lynu's, and that ii was her resemblance to her which had so com pletely won his heart. And her romantic conjecture happened to be right. Mr. Glen more had iu early days beeu a devoted ad mirer of the beautiful Alice Chester, aud his suit had been sanctioned by her father, bill the wilful beauty had not regarded him with j favor, and be bad lived unmarried for her i sake. ; Alice could have lived very happily in Mrs. ! Delatour's pretty house, had it not been for ! the feeling, somewhat hurtful to her pride, j that as a straDger she had no right to trespass I thus upon her bounty. So when a fortnight ; had passed in the fuliilment of her duties as # ! teacher, she said one day? "Mrs. Delatour, I have been thinking that > perhaps I could get a room somewhere in the | village, in the house of some one that you j know. Don't you think it possible?" * j "What do you want to get a room in the I | village for ?" asked her friend. r! "Because," said Alice, blushing, "I have ' j been with you a long time now, and it is time " I for rae to begin to provide for myself. I am j making enough to hire a little room with and II pay for plain board, if I might pay at the end 5; of each month." ' i "Nonsense, child," said Mrs. Delatour, brief| ly. "Be satisfied where you are for the pres' I * . l . J* ? \ ent, ana uou t laJK aoout proviuing ior yuur' jself until you make a little more money. 11 Are you not comfortable here?" 1 "More than comfortable," said Alice, warm1 j ly, "and I am more grateful to you than I 1 can express ; but it seems wrong for me to be 1 j stayiug here so long." ; "When I am tired of'you, F will tell you," 1; said her hostess. She felt, in truth, strangely 1 j reluctant to part with the young girl, who had | already endeared herself to her. And though j she still hesitated in deciding to keep her al' I together, she could not make up her mind to 1 j let her go, just yet. So Alice stayed on and I enjoyed the luxury of her present life, and the j days slipped by until Gervais Delatour came 1! home. On the very evening of his arrival, the young man asked his mother if Alice had 1 consented to live with her, altogether. "I have not asked her," quietly replied Mrs. Delatour. Gervais bit his lip, and walked off, some| what impatiently, toward the window. "What is the matter, my dear ?" asked his 1 mother, in a calm tone. "You look annoyed." "Oh ! no, by no means," he replied carelessly. "I only thought it possible some such arrangement had been made." "Yes, that was quite natural, considering how long she had remained here; but you see, 1 I don't like to send the poor girl away?" "frond heavens! mother." cried Gervais. ' turning around, "how can you speak of such a thing? Turn her away!" "I said send her away, dear." ' "Well, send or turn, it is all one. As for ' her having been here long, I don't see that she has so far paid more than an ordinary ( visit; one or two weeks only?" "Four," corrected, his mother. | "Four, then. Has she spoken of her plans?" , "No. I doubt if she has any to speak of. To tell you the truth," said Mrs. Delatour, who liked to tease her son, but never carried it too far, "she proposed some time back to leave me, and board in the village, ou her scanty earnings, silly child! But I told her , to remain quiet for the present?" , "Did you ? That was right," said Gervais, his brow clearing. "But what earnings do you speak of? Has she any scholars ?" "Yes; a little class of six children, who meet every day at Mr. Glenmore's. I got them for her without any difficulty. You see, luckily, Miss Ames has just gone away, and j these aresomeof her former pupils. Marion I is a good little thiug, very diligent and pains| taking. She is getting to be a favorite, and I I shouldn't wonder if in time she succeeded in , I getting up quite a school. By the way, Ger 11 vais, you cau't think what a fancy Mr. Glen,! more has taken to her. He walks with her, and lends her books, and seems really sraitt ten." "Mr. Glenmore! Pie is old enough to be her father." "Fully. But that does not preclude the possibility of his liking her does it?" "Oh ! no, certaiuly not. I only thought you meant?" "That he had fallen in love with her? i Well, it's not unlikely, now you've suggested j the idea. It would be a capital thing for her, too," said Mrs. Delatour, musingly. "I cannot see why," said Gervais, somewhat i sharply. "My dear son ! a young girl in her lonely, friendless situation, to become the wife of the clergyman of the parish?a man sufficiently well off, too, to support her comfortably, and leave her in good circumstances when he dies! i Most people would consider it au excellent match." "Most people would be very foolish, then. But I beg your pardon," he added, checking ! himself; "perhaps you areoue of them !" "I! Uh ! no," said Mrs. JJeJatour, good, humoredly. "I confess I haven't troubled ; my head about it. In fact, the little thing , I ought not to think of marrying, for several j years to come. She's nothing but a child." "In years, perhaps," said Gervais, "but I certainly not in character. No child would j act with the self-denyiug resolution she has 11 displayed." , "She is certainly quite heroic; foolishly roj raantic, perhaps ; but with a great deal of principle. And now, my dear, to change the ; subject, do tell me something of your visit, i You have not told me a word of the Grahams, ! or Talbots, or auy of those people I am interested in." This conversation gave Mrs. Delatoursorae insight into her son's feelings. And, iudeed, it was not very long before they became too evident to escape eveu ordinary penetration. Gervais was, undoubtedly, a victim to that not uncommon, but seldom fatal malady? I love at first sight. His impulsive French ! nature had yielded readily to the influence of i Alice's charms, and each succeeding hour of . their intercourse kindled the flame into greatj! er strength. His mother felt sorely perplexed at the discovery. This was the contingency : she had dreaded ; but she had not looked for d.itsosoon. However, as she had run away it with her husband on a six week's acquaintance, and lived happily with him all her iuars iried life, she could not exclaim now at the d ; oily or imprudence of this sudden infatuad ion on her son's part. Alice was good and y bvely and sensible, more attractive than any is |irl she kuew j but then?she did not know d ffiough about her. Who were the Lyles? - j &e had never heard of them before. And j- j ^lice?or Marion, as she called herself?was n ; viry reticent about her family. Mrs. Delatour >-' hid been able to learn very little concerning r thtm. Of the Chester side she had not spoj kec at all, though they were the only connec? I ili.ia s\P mli Ink in nrvint i\f hirfli ohp e , UUU9 VI nilltu, 111 J/uiuv VI Via vii| vnv wm.m a boist; and the Fieldings, Mrs. Delatour felt 0 sure, must be rather common sort of people. I She had always contemplated a distinguished -! match for her son ; looked forward, if need be, a i to his going over to France, to seek a bride j , among the descendants of some of those old j \ families who, in former years?centuries ago, j it might be?had mingled in the gay assera' biies that gathered in the walls of the stately - Chateau de la Tour. Yet mother-love was j strong in her heart; and if Gervais' happi1 ness should be dependant ou his marriage - with this obscure, penniless young girl, she ; was not at all sure that*one would have the ; courage or strength of miud to combat his t wishes. j Of Alices readiness to comply with those ;! wishes, no doubt, of course, ever entered her mind. I Meanwhile, Alice, quite unconscious of the i1 sentiments she had inspired, tranquilly "pur; j sued the even tenor of her waytaught i her scholars, read all the books she could ! find, wrote stories and poetry as of old, and? | thought of her cousin Maurice. ? CHAPTER XVII. : Alice's second offer, and what came of it. Some weeks passed by. One evening, as Alice was sitting alone in the library, engrossed j with a volume of poems, Gervais entered, and ! seating himself near her, commenced idly j turning over a portfolio of prints which lay i on the table. Alice read on for a little while 1 without looking up ; then raising her eves, ; she blushed to find him gazing intently at her, j his head resting on his hand, and his elbow i heedlessly crushing one of the engravings he ' had been feigning to examine, j "What is that which interests you so?" he asked, glancing at her book. "An odd volume of Laraartine, I found on the upper shelf." "You are a French scholar, then?" ?r*u i t rmltr rco h fnlfirqhlw wfill Vtl t UUj JL VUIJ ? VUU I ? W?1 enough to understand it when the idioms are not very difficult." "If you spoke it, you would delight my mother's heart. She clings to everything associated with the home' of her ancestors, in spiteof being born and brought up in America." "I have not had many advantages," rejoined Alice. "You know I was educated in the country, and at the school I went to, they I only taught the rudiments of French ; but I like it so much that I have read a good deal, with the help of a dictionary, and brought myself on a little in that way." "If you would let me help you," said Gervais, "perhaps I would not prove myself a very inefficient teacher." "You. Oh! I would not give you the trouble," said Alice. "And I have not much leisure time?only the afternoons." "And the evenings," said Gervais. "Could we not read together, then ? "Perhaps," said Alice, doubtfully. "But your mother?" * "She could enjoy her nap in peace." "But she likes to talk, too; and I am afraid it would be impolite." \jervaisieu a nine aimoyeu at tier wnui> ui readiness to enter into his scheme. "Oh ! if you dou't care about it, of course that makes a difference," he answered carelessly. There was a silence. Alice fancied from his look that she had displeased him in some way, but could not understand how. After a pause he resumed. "My mother and I have been discussing a rather important question lately?important to me, that is, and almost equally so to her; though I don't flatter myself that it would prove of much consequence to anybody else. She has suggested that I should make a visit to France." "To France !" Alice looked up, her face full of eager interest. "Oh ! how pleasant that would be!" No shade of regret in her tone, at the prospect of his leaving home! Gervais felt a keen thrill of disappointment; but he answered with well-feigned nonchalance? "That is just a question I've been debating with myself. I can't make up my mind whether it would be pleasant or not. Under some circumstances, it might?but?" "To vou. I should think it would be delieht ful," said the unconscious Alice. "It is the country of your forefathers, and you would find so much to interest you." "Icau't say I care much about my forefathers," said Gervais, irreverently. "I have no doubt they were all very good people; but you must recollect that I never knew any of them." "No, of course not," said Alice, laughing. "But I should think you would like to see that beautiful old Chateau de la Tour, where | your great graud-father used to live." "I have seen its picture," said Gervais. "I suppose my mother has often shown it to you ?" "Yes. Would she go with you, if you went?" asked Alice, struck by a new idea. "Oh ! no ; she is no longer young enough to undertake such a journey. And the fact is, I should hate to go alone." Alice looked contemplative. Gervais hoped she was thinking of his possible journey. But, in reality, she was only wishing that she had the power to travel about at will. She I u - - - Ai._i. i in t 1 wouiu uol, iu mat uaae, ueiiKeiy lu uegieut au good an opportunity as he had of seeing foreign countries. "If I should go," he continued, "I would be abroad, probably for a year, at least." "Yes, I suppose so," said Alice. "You could hardly see everything you wanted to in less time than that. But I should think that Mrs. Delatour would miss you very much." "I should be glad to think," said Gervais, "that somebody else would miss me, too." "Who ?" asked Alice, inuocently. " You !" "I!" She blushed again, embarrassed at his earnest look, but still not divining his thoughts. "I would not be here all that time, you know." "Why not? You could not leave my mother alone." Alice did not know what answer to make. Her position at Elrawood still seemed a doubtful one, for no arrangement had been made for her permanent residence there, though olia or?rtl?A rvAi'n/* TVfro T^nlafAlir n iicucv^i ouc opuivc ui guiu^, IUJO, i^tiftiuui always put the question aside by saying that there was time enough yet for her to think about it. "I hope," said Gervais, speaking rapidly, and from a sudden impulse which he could cot resist, "that you will never leave Elmwood, unless?unless you leave it with me." She gave hitn a startling glance, full of wonderment; then her cheek and brow flushed crimson, as his eyes sank beneath his. "Miss Lyle?Marion !" he exclaimed, bending forward and takiug her hand, "don't you know?don'tyou understand?why I wish you to care about ray going? Don't you know i how much I love you ?" ?,I did not know it," said Alice in a very low voice, when she could summon courage ' to speak. "I never dreamt of such a thing." The truthfulness of her tone it was impossible to doubt. "But now that you know it," he pursued with feverish anxiety, "will you not give me one word of hope ? Tell me that I have not been very presumptuous in daring to cherish fVtic. Uoontifnl (^room fall *n r\ tUnf fiti II bino u^autuui uiuaiu ten 111c tuai juu win i not be cruel enough to destroy it?" Alice looked pained, and turned away her face. "I am very, very sorry," she began falteringly. "Sorry! Then you don't care about me! Oh ! Marion, if you only knew?" His voice trembled with the intensity of his emotion, and he paused to recover his composure. Alice had withdrawn her hand from ' his, and she now spoke in a very gentle but decided tone. "Mr. Delatour, if I had fancied that such a thing as this could happen, I never would have remained under your mother's roof. My last desire would be to cause uuhappiness to any one who had shown me the kindness I have received at your hands. But you must uot think me ungrateful because I cannot do as you wish." ! "But why cannot you ? Do you dislike me j so hopelessly ?" "Dislike you? I like you almost4better than any one else I know," said Alice. | "Then, iu time, might not your liking grow i into a stronger feeling ? Give me a little i hope?just one ray!" he continued, eagerly. | "I will go away for a year?for two years, if ' you wish it?if you will ouly tell me there is I a chance of your giviDg me the kind of welj come I want when I come back !" I "But there isn't a chauce," said Alice, ; simply and gravely. "I would always be j glad to see you?as my friend and benefac: j tor?" "Benefactor, pshaw !" he said, impatiently, i! rising and turning away from her. "I hate I that sort of talk. You talk of receiving ben1 efits, when you have bestowed upon me more happiness than I ever knew before?short' lived happiness," he added, bitterly. "1 was i foolish enough to think it might last." , Poor Alice hung her head, feeling as grieved , and penitent as if she had really been guilty ' of some wrong. "I am very sorry," she rouri mured again. "You ought never to have brought me here, to make trouble in this i way." "Don't say that," he returned, impetuously, i "I shall always be thankful and glad for the privilege of having enjoyed your society, even though you have disappointed my dearest hopes. Don't look so downcast," he added I with some compunction, as he caught sight of the tears iu her eyes, "or I shall feel like a brute for having annoyed you in this way." I A .. .l: .i 1 ? Al. M1IH IllUIUbUL WJO LUUUII U1 U]?pi uavuiiig footsteps was heard; and Alice precipitately retreated by a side door, while Gervais took up a book, and feigned to be absorbed in its contents when his mother entered the library. "Where is Marion ? I thought I heard her voice in here," said Mrs. Delatour, in her soft tones. "She was here, but she went out a minute ago," replied Gervais, indifferently. "Went out! Where?" "I don't know?out of the room, I raeau." "Oh !" said his mother," who had watched his countenauce narrowly during this brief dialogue, and felt convinced that something had happened, though she could not quite divine what the nature of the something was. She asked no question, but she kept watch daring the evening on both the young people. She saw that her son's manner to Alice was constrained, and Alice's to him very shy and a little deprecating; and she drew her own conclusions therefrom, and secretly rejoiced over them. "The silly chit has absolutely refused him," she said complacently to herself; "thanks, no doubt, to that cousin somebody or other of hers, of whom she seems so fond." And it came to pass that after the young girl had gone to bed, and Gervais, as was his wont, lingered over the fire with his mother for a parting chat, the latter contrived by a little judicious manceuvering to elicit the confession she desired to hear. Gervais never kept any secrets from her, and he soon came out with this, frankly enough. "Of course it serves me right, mother," he said. "I deserved punishment for being so presumptuous as to expect to win her affection in such a short time." Mrs. Delatour had experience enough to know that while the fever was still on him, the most unwise treatment she could bestow would be that of casting any slight on the object of his adoration ; so instead of saying that she thought the presumption was on Alice's part, in rejecting such a magnificent offer as that of her peerless son, she quietly remarked that it was a great pity; but that girls so young seldom knew their own mind, and it was difficult to know what to expect from them. "Oh! she never gave me the least encouri agement," said Gervais, quickly. "The fault was all mine." "No, I never blamed her," said his mother. "I believe she is a good, innocent little thing." "She is an angel!" cried Gervais, enthusiastically. Next day, when Alice returned from the village, Mrs. Delatour detained her in the parlor for a little private talk, before she went up to her room. Marion, dear, she said, holding her haud ! caressingly between both of hers, "I want to make a definite arrangement with you. I don't wish matters to go on in this unsatisfactory way any longer. Why, you look quite alarmed," she added, smiling, as Alice's color came and went, in apprehension as to what might be coming next. "It is nothing very terrifying I want to say to you. Sit down here a moment, by me." Alice accordingly took a seat on the sofa, and Mrs. Delatour, still holding her hand, went on in the same affectionate manner. "It is only that I want to make sure, my dear, of your companionship while my son is absent. Did you know that he was going away very soon ?" "He spoke to me of it." said Alice, trying to look unconcerned, "but did not seem quite sure whether he would go or not." "He has been talking of it for some time, but has just succeeded iu making up his mind ou that subject. It is decided now, that he is ! to start from New York early in April. This j is?let's see?the thirteenth of March, is it j not ? So he will leave home in a very few ; days' time. And I want you to promise not to desert me while he is gone, uuless, indeed, you find ray home and my company too dull." "I think you must be laughing at me," said Alice, a little reproachfully, "orelse you must think me very ungrateful." "For what, my dear ? If we come to talk of gratitude, it is I who should be gratefcil to you, for enlivening me with your cheerful society," said Mrs. Delatour, who felt, at that moment, overflowing with benevolence toward Alice and all human kind. "It is settled, then ? You promise to stay with me ? Gervais will be gone for a year?perhaps longer; and I should be very lonely during his absence, without you." "Yes, I will stay, and I thank you, most gratefully, for your kindness," said Alice. "I shall never, never be able to repay it." "Yes, you will," said her friend, kissing her : forehead. "Always be the dear, amiable ! little girl you are now, and your companionship will be an inestimable benefit to me." Alice wondered, as she went up stairs to take off her things, whether Mrs. Delatour would have been so friendly to her if she had known that she had refused her son! She little knew, in the innocence of her heart, that the proceeding for which she so deeply reproached herself, far from being considered an offense, had won her ten fold the favor she j had before enjoyed in the mother's estimation ! She of course considered her au ex. tremely foolish girl; but she was disposed to i view her folly with a very lenient eye, since it j had brought about a result which so exactly ! accorded with her wishes. Toward the end of March, Gervais bid adieu to Elmwood and its inmates, and departed on the long talked-of visit to the land I of his ancestors. His mother was very low-: spirited for some time after he left, for she \ was too devoted to him not to grieve over his ; absence, thoueh it was at her owu desire that | ; he had gone. Alice, too, missed him. She liked and admired him more than any one, ; except Maurice, whom she had ever known ; but under the circumstauces, his departure was a relief. He had recurred once, and once only, to the subject which was such an ' ! embarrassing one to her. "I am not going to importune or distress you," he said, "but I! mud say one thing before I leave, and that is, that I wish you to be sure that my feelings toward you can never change. My love for ! you is the first great passiou of my life, and i it will be the last. I must still live in the hope that you may one day reward it; but if ' this hope fails me, it will go with me unex- 1 I tinguished to my grave." It was the speech of an ardent and enthu- j siastic soul, sincere in every impulse, hut eas' ily swayed by circumstance and change ; but ' it made Alice feel more guilty than ever, and j caused her to wether pillow that night with j tears. ; Gervais was not destined to remain away for as long a period as he had anticipated. Toward the fall of that year?1860?the political clouds which had for some time been overshadowing his native country suddenly assumed a more threatening aspect; and in December, South Carolina passed the ordinance secession from the control of an overbearing and tyrannical government. War seemed imminent, though many still ridiculed the idea of such an extreme measure; and among other absentees who flocked eagerly home to j be in readiness to join in the impending strugj gle, was our young scion of the Huguenots, burniug with ardor tor the sacred cause, which quite banished, for the time, every other consideration from his mjnd. [to be continued next week.] pjstotg of Carolina. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. HISTORICAL SKETCHES ' 'of the Early Settlement of South Carolina. BY REV. ROBERT LATHAN. (continued from last week.) The individual who has only a limited knowledge of human nature, might be ready to conclude that all the circumstances con I oected with the settlement of South Carolina, 1 would have inspired the first European in| habitants that came to the country, to live I together in perfect harmony. This was far from being the case; nor is it to be wondered at. A8 we have seen, the majority of the immigrants were dissenters from the Church of England ; but the proprietors and the Grand Council were Cavaliers. There is not the shadow of a doubt that the Cavaliers designed, from the first, to establish a kind of religioas oligarchy. This, together with the recollection of the fiery struggles which had been passed through in old England, fed the bitter hate which still lived in the bosom of the dissenters. No doubt both parties were greatly to be blamed. To allay the party feeling which existed amongst the settlers, required all the skill, energy and prudence of Joseph West. Notwithstanding the great zeal manifesffcd by the different religious sects, very little was done, directly, by any of tbera, for many years, to promote piety. A minister and church was an appendage of every New England settlement. A church was built and the people settled around it. Such was not the case in Carolina. For a period of ten years, we have no certain account of the erection of any church, or even of any preaching in the colony. Joseph West is characterized by all parties as a devoutly pious man, and we may reasonably conclude that, occupying the position and exercising the influence which he did in the colony, he would exert a happy restraint over the wayward, and encourage those religiously disposed. However retarding these religious bickerings might have been to the growth and prosperity of the colony, they did not put a stop to its expansion. The locality chosen on the west side of the Kyewaw was found not suited to the purposes of the colony. The express object which was had in view in selecting it, was because it was so situated that no large vessel could approach it. The simple fact is, the first settlers were afraid that they would be attacked by the Spanish. They were aware that the mercies of that people were cruel. Hence, they selected a "high ground" on Kyewaw river, thinking that at that point they would be comparatively safe. Port Royal was abandoned because it was a good harbor and near the Spanish. The "high ground" on the Kyewaw was selected because it was farther away from the Spanish, and had no harbor. The proprietors enjoined it upon the immigrants to settle at a distance from the coast for the sake of health. The point of land between the Kyewaw and Waudo rivers?now the Ashley and Cooper? was soon discovered to be more favorable for a settlement than that first chosen. IndividI uals had settled on this place,which was called Oyster Point. The Grand Council, on the 13th of January, 1672, directed Capt. Maurice Matthews and Capt. Godfrey to make an examination of the Wando river with reference to its suitableness for a settlement. What the character of the report of these individuals was we can only conjecture. It may well be supposed that they were pleased with the situation. It was now found that the spot first selected, whilst it could not be approached by an invading fleet, was still greatly exposed to the Spanish and Indians. The peculiar situation of Oyster Point?being simply a tongue of land, bounded on both sides by a river?rendered it much more desirable for a town constantly liable to be attacked by an enemy. It also possessed commercial advantages. This, however, was a matter of secondary consideration. The great object with the immigrants in selecting a site for a town, was its advantages in a military point of view. Any individual who will look at the map of the State of South Carolina, will not be slow in concluding, that I for all the purposes of the early settlers, there is no other location equal to Oyster Point. This tongue of land had been, at an early period in the history of the colony, taken up by Henry Hughes and John Coming. The object of the survey made by Captain j Godfrey and Captain Matthews, dues not, I however, seem to have been made with special | reference to a change of location, but only | with the view of securing a safe locality on I which other immigrants might settle. From the nature of the surrounding circumstances, all the settlements were made in what were, with propriety, called towns. Single individuals could not have protected themselves against the hostile Indians. That it was not 1 contemplated in 1672, to make Oyster Point ! the chief town, is evident from the conduct of j Hughes and Coming. On the 21st of Febru; ary, 1672, they met the Grand Council, and j Henry Hughes gave up one half of his land, j "near a place upon Ashley river, known by I the name of Oyster Point, to be employed in and toward the enlarging of a town and cora| mon of pasture, there intended to be erected." j Mr. John Coming, and Affera, his wife, came j likewise before the Grand Council, and freely gave up one half of their land near the said place, for the use aforesaid. In fact, the setj tlement of Oyster Point must have commenced very soon after the settlement on the western bank of the Kyewaw, which the immigrants named Ashley, in honor of the Earl if Shaftesbury.? As early as June 18th, 1672, we find the Grand Council devising ways and means for the defense of the province. One, amongst many other orders issued by that body, is in these words: "All the inhabitants on the other part of the river, called Oyster Poynt, doe repaire to the plantation there, now in the possession of Hugh Carterett Cooper, and being soe embodyed, doe march forward to the plantation now in the possession of Mr. Thomas Norris, or Mr. William Morrill, which may be thought most safe and useful for that design, under the command of Mr. Robert Donne, there to remayne and exercise such orders and rules as the Grand Council shall think fitt to be prosecuted for the better safety of that part of this settlement." The town was, by order, or rather by the consent of the Grand Council, laid out by John Culpepper in 1672. The warrant isj sued by Governor Yearaaus to Surveyor Gen' eral Culpepper, bears date July, 1672. The ! Spot attracted a consiuerauie nuuiuci vi iu- ? habitants; but owing to the hostile disposition t of the Indians and the fear of a Spanish inva1 sion, the settlers generally preferred that sec- c | tion which was most densely populated. \ In 1673 John Culpepper got into a difficul- I | ty with the authorities of the Ashley river t j colony and went to the Albemarle colony. I i There, in 1677, he got into a more serious i l difficulty, which has, with some good ground, c | been regarded as the beginning of forcible re- <3 ; sistance to the exactions of the British governI ment in America. This was about one hundred years before the American Revolution, and more than fifty years before Carolina was divided into North and South Carolina. Culpepper's difficulty in Albemarle colony was simply this: The British government levied a tax of two Dence on everv Dound of tobacco sold in the ? colouy, or not sent to England. The object, ? evidently, was to give England a monopoly J of the tobacco trade. At the time, a man by the name of Miller filled the offices of gover- ? nor, collector and secretary of the colony. He a proceeded to collect the tax on tobacco, and i made himself both odious'and oppressive to the j | people. Culpepper resisted his acta. The Gov- t eruor was seized, and all the money found in bis possession was taken from him and appropria- j ted to the resistance of what the people u thought high handed measures and to the de- ^ fense of the colony. The fact that Albemarle colony now, since it did not have to pay a tax on tobacco, enjoyed a great advantage ^ over the colonies in Virginia and Maryland, ^ made the latter discontented. l a ? ?* ? ?..i0 a pittll wao Bell uu luut lu ouuuuo vuijjojjper, and in order that he might receive justice, ^ he went to England for the purpose of making tj an appeal to the ruling sovereign for a repeal of the tax and to beg for mercy for having j resisted royal authority. He was arrested; but Shaftesbury managed to get the matter jj quashed, fearing lest it would ultimately come tj before the House of Commons and put an ^ end to his ministry. Shaftesbury openly de- jj clared that the laws of England did not extend to the remote and insignificant province r of Carolina, and that the difficulty was only ^ a petty feud amongst the people of Albemarle c and their rulers. It is hard to reconcile this declaration of Shaftesbury with the fact that J Miller had collected, by authority, fourteen ^ thousand dollars off the people of Albemarle. So soon as he was out of this difficulty, Culpepper came to Carolina and engaged in ^ laying out the original streets of what is now ^ .the city of Charleston. This was in 1680; jj but in 1679 the people generally had become ^ disposed to cross over the Ashely river and settle on Oyster Point. The proprietors were ^ duly informed of this fact, and also of the g advantage to be gained by making a change in the location of the colony. This met the ^ hearty approbation of the proprietors. On , the 17th of May, 1680, they wrote to the i~i __j n 1 n :i uroveruor auu umuu vuuum iu hjo luuun- g ing words: "We again desire you to take note that the Oyster Point is the place that we do appoint for the Porte Town, web (which) you are to call Charles Towne," &c. g The same instructions, in almost the identical ^ words, had been sent to the Governor and ? Grand Council by the Richmond frigate, on the 17th of December, 1679. We quote those ^ of May, 1680, to show that the proprietors c felt much interest in the contemplated change t of location. No doubt, before the last in- ^ structions arrived, the change had been effected. All the public offices had been removed to Oyster Point, and at that point the Grand g Council was summoned to convene. The Q town, in obedience to the instructions of the proprietors, was duly named Charles Town, i For the first two years it was, in contradistinction from the place that had been left, called New Charles Town; but, gradually, Old n Charles Town was abandoned, and until after g the close of the Revolutionary war, the name g (JharJes Town was retained. c The streets were ordered to be laid out east ? and west, intersected by others at right angles. This, no doubt, was done, at least as well as ^ the nature of the location and the circumstances of the case would admit. The proprietors were particular to enjoin it upon the Governor and Council to pay particular at- ? tention to the "regularity and siraightness of ^ the streets." The houses were not built so as to correspond with the surveyor's lines. The section of the city first laid out was that which jj at present lies between Broad and Water tj I streets, from the Cooper "river, westward, to ^ Meeting street. It is in this quarter we find Zig-Zag alley. j There is good reason for concluding that the change from Old Charles Town to New Charles Town, was made in the spring of the ^ year. Thirty houses were erected ; but what the exact number of the colony was, it is impossible to say with certainty. In order to SJ increase the growth of the town and give it S| an importance which it could not otherwise tl have, the proprietors ordered that all ships be a loaded and unloaded at it. In laying out the g town, a lot of five acres was to be laid out for n each of the proprietors, wherever they might a see fit, either in persons or by their agents, to b select it. Any individual who took up a lot f] * * . i (* J _ * _ I was required to lay toe xounaauon 01 a uuusc si upon it within one year, and have a house v erected upon the foundation within two years. J Any person taking up a lot and failing to ft comply with this requirement, forfeited all r! his claim to the lot; and the Grand Council w could grant the lot to any one else, and he p would beat liberty to build upon it. The ob- J ject of this proviso, no doubt, was to preclude vf speculation. Any person could take up as t! many lots as he desired, provided he would fl: build upon each extra lot, within twelve tl months, a house at least thirty feet long, six- w teen feet wide, and two stories high, besides ti garrets. Ci Immigrants flocked in from all quarters, ti England, Ireland, the West Indies and the n colonies in the northern part of North Amer- j( ica each sent its quota, and the town grew rapidly. Land increased in value. Within a j two years after its settlement, a hundred g( houses were built. Land sold for Ave dollars 0 | per acre and rented for half as much per an- ft | num. Almost from its very foundation, the ? j town began to assume a commercial aspect. ]t I In November, 1680, sixteen ships?some of ft them large for that period of the world?enI tered the harbor at one time, i Heretofore the colony had been without; lc any church building or regular church organ- 01 ization. A five acre lot had been reserved, b as we have seen, in one of the contemplated g< settlements, for a church; but we have no tl evidence that any church was erected upon di it. In 1682, duriDg the administration of tc Governor West, the first church in the State hi was begun. It was long called the Euglish b< church. Its distinctive name was St. Phil- ai ip's?now St. Michael's. A law was passed : in by the Parliament forbidding drunkenness and | idleness, and enjoining the observance of the in Sabbath. of The saddest event of this period, was the fa removal of Governor West from office. From nt j the first, he had been intimately identified A i with the colony in all its movements, and w< j under his wise and prudent management, it dt ) had grown and flourished. Oldmixon says to the reason that West was removed from the of office of Governor, was because he dealt in wi Indians and opposed the proprietary party, cc There seems to be some strange inconsistency d( about the charge, which it is not easy to re- ci concile. The immigrants were allowed, from pf the first, to hold negroes in slavery, and exer- at cise over them absolute control. It could not hi be said that the proprietors were opposed to at slavery. The main point of opposition to he West was his religious creed aud political no- ht IVUOt AUVVJ/IVfliivvvkv wwfi - 4- he Cavaliers in check. Joseph Morton succeeded "West as Governir. From a letter written to Andrew Percirall, by the proprietors, we learn that Joseph Jorton and Landgrave Axtel, about this ime, were instrumental in "bringing five tundred people to the colony in less than a nonth's time." It is barely possible that this iircumstance influenced the proprietors to legrade West and elevate Joseph Morton. (to be continued next week.) ANECDOTE OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. As the President was passing through the eards of a hospital near Washington upon me occasion, he observed in one of the beds^ -oung soldier wbose paiua countenance auu xpressionless, glassy eyes betokened great ihysical and mental prostration, and be ininired of the attending surgeon if there was ,ny prospect of his ultimate recovery. "Not the slightest," renlied the doctor. His vital powers are rapidly ebbing away, ,nd will soon be exhausted." "I am heartily sorry for the poor boy," said dr. Lincoln, "and I should like to' dd soraehing to make his last hours pass as comfort* bly as possible. Would there be auy harm amy speaking to him?" added he. And pon being assured there would not, he sat own by the bedside, and taking the young aan's hand, in the kindest possible tone of oice said, "My young friend, I am the Presient of the United States, and am informed y the doctor that you cannot possibly live ut a short time. Now if there is any request ou would like to make in regard to your imily, it will afford me very great satisfaclon to comply with it." The youth turned his dim eyes toward the 'resident, but made no response until the uestion was repeated, when, with great effort, e succeeded in giving articulation to his banks, and expressed an earnest desire to see is aged grand-mother, who, he said, was then ving in Bangor, Maine. , The President, after assuring him that evev effort should be made to gratify his wishes, ade him a kind adieu, and calling the medial officer aside, asked if there was any prosect of the young-man's surviving until the Id lady could be telegraphed to and corae to Vashington ; and he seemed a good deal perlexed on being told there was no hope of his; but after a moment's reflection he said he only expedient that occurred to him unei the circumstances was the exercise of a ittle of that harmless strategy which was always allowable in war times; that if he could nly find some old woman who would consent 3 personate the grandmother, the boy was in uch a state of lethargy that he would not robably detect the deception, and would die dth the consoling belief that he had received he parting benediction of his aged relative. <innL?k narfoinlv Via ft nArfftntlv iusti ilJtlb VTUUIU VUi vutui^ ww w j able device," replied the surgeon; "but /here will you find the elderly female to en* ct the part of grandmother ?" "Let me see," soliloquized Mr. Lincoln, oldingup bis left hand while he enumerated ?ith the index finger of the right hand; there is old Mrs. B r, old Mrs. S k, nd old Mrs. M s; they are all most belevolent ladies, but I am apprehensive they ould not be prevailed upon to undertake any hing which involved the faintest shadow of leception. No, no," continued he, "there is 10 hope from that direction; but if I could inly induce my friend Gideon Welles to peronate the old lady, in suitable costume, the ibject would be attained, and nobody harmed." "But," remarked the Doctor, "Mr. Welles's ong white beard would at once expose the rtifice." "That all can be obviated by his wearing a light-cap, tied down so as to cover up the ieard," said the President. Accordingly he at down at once and addressed a note to the iecretary of the Navy, begging him, as a speial favor, to comply with the request at as arly a moment as practicable, as the boy's ours were numbered. Now it happened when the Secretary reeived this communication he was busily enaged in official transactions, which, in his pinion, were of so much consequence that bey could not be postponed for anything else, nd he replied that he entertained a high apreciation of the honor conferred upon him y the President's selecting him to perform be chief role in the sad little drama indica* 3d ; but, unfortunately, he was at that very loment deeply absorbed in the solution of le difficult problem as to whether Noah's rk or the new model gun-boat was best " j fiapted to the purposes 01 moueru wnuoio.? Editor's Draper, Harper's Magazine for April "Hail Columbia."?"Hail Columbia" is tid to baveheeo composed under the circum- A :ances as follows: In the year 1793, when ie patriotic feeling pervaded the country, nd when there were several parties in the eld, Mr. Fox, a young actor, called one lorning upon his friend, Mr. Hopkinson, and fter stating that the following evening had een appointed for his benefit, begged his iend to do something in his behalf. "If," aid Fox, "you will write me some patriotic erses to the tune of the 'president's march,' feel sure of a full house." Mr. Hopkinson i a short time wrote the first verse and chous, which were submitted to Mrs. Hopkinson, 'ho sang them to a piano accompaniment, and roved the measure and music to be in keeping, n this way the second and other verses rere written, and when Mr. Fox returned in ie evening he received with delight the song s it now stands. The following morning, ie announcement was made that Mr. Fox rould sing a new patriotic song. The theare was crowded ; the song was sung and reeived with rapture; it was repeated eight roes and again encored, and when sung the inth time the whole audience stood up and )ined in the chorus. Night after Dight "Hail lolumbia" cheered the visitors of the theatre, ud in a very few days it was the universal mgofthe boys in the streets from one end f the city to another. Nor was the author >rgotten. The street in which be resided as'on one occasion crowded, and "Hail Coimbia" broke on the stillness of the midnight om 500 patriotic voices. ? ? A Life that Ended in Smoke.?If the >vere of the weed desire a patron saint, they light to secure the canonization of a deceased urgher of Roterdara, (that is, if he was a 3od Catholic,) who died a short time ago at le age of eighty years. It is believed that jriug his life he smoked more than four ms of tobacco, and drank more than five jndred thousand quarts of beer. A few days jfore his death, he made his will, in which, nong other provisions, he made the follow . g arraugemeuuj jui ma unu iuu?ai. All the smokers in the country were to be vited, and each presented with ten pounds ' tobacco and two Dutch pipes of the latest shion, on which were to be engraved the imes, arms and date of the deceased testator. 11 his relatives, friends,' and funeral guests ere requested to keep their pipes alight iring the ceremonies, after which they were empty their ashes on the coffin. The poor ' his neighborhood who attended his funeral, ere to receive annually ten pounds of tobac> and a cask of good beer. His coffin he sired to have lined with the cedar of bis old gar boxes. A box of French caporal and * tcket of old Dutch tobacco were to h? placed the foot of his coffin, his favorite pipe by s side, and also a box of matches, a flint id steel, and also some tinder, becaqgB,?a i said, there was- no knowing what might .fl* ippen.