Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, November 18, 1875, Image 1
lewis m. grist, proprietor, j $itbtpraknt ^amilji fttfospaptr: Jror f|e |)romotion of Ijjt political, Social, ^gricaltaral anb Commercial interests of % jJonfjj. TERMS?$3.00 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE.
"VOL. 21. YOEKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 1875. 46.
jtlcftcil foctnr.
From th<> Sunny South.
questions.
BY CLARA DAROAN M'LKAN.
What shall I say to thee, my sweet ?
What may I say to thee?
I love thee ? Nay,'those were but light
And foolish words for my love's might;
I would say more to thee.
What Shall I give to thee, ray love?
What can I give to thee !
Youth's buds and blossoms all are dead;
But there is ripe fruit in their stead,?
That will I give to thee.
How shall I pray for thee, my own ?
What dare I'ask for thee ?
a life of joy?a path of flowersNo
care or pain?no clouds nor showers,?
Will God give this to thee?
Ah! not thus will I pray, beloved,?
Too small such boon would be ; :
"Father, let m go hand in hand
TnirAf h?r th#? d infant. land !"
"* "p ?" -?? ?
Heaven's both for theo and me!
Yorkville, S. C.
-jtu anginal Written
for the Yorkville Enquirer.
Sleepy Hollow.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE SECRET.
I had been informed, in a letter from home,
about a mouth after I had left, of the approaching
marriage of Stephen Holcombe to
my cousin Ellen. I was surprised at the announcement,
for the discovery of the real
feelings of the former had led me to believe
that the marriage would never take place;
and I felt much concerned at the thought of
Ellen's happiness being sacrificed, as it surely
would be, in her union with a man who was
totally indifferent to her. I was, however, of
course, unable to interfere; and as I received,
not long afterward, a letter from Ellen herself,
written iu a very cheerful and satisfied strain,
I was fain to hope that Stephen was comporting
himself as he should do, and that having
failed in attaining the object he had desired,
he would eontent himself with the good the
gods had prepared for him, and settle down
iuto a worthy husband.
The next news of the pair was more astonishing?they
were coming to settle in South
Carolina, in our immediate neighborhood.
The father of a college friend of Stephen's,
residing at not more than three miles'distance
from our place, was about to sell his country
property and remove to Charleston, and
Stephen was to buy the farm and devote him
self to its cultivation. He bad given up all
idea of the law, aud taken to tbe notion of
farming instead.
"I shall be very dull when Ellen goes,"
wrote ray aunt, who was my informant in regard
to the plan, "and I had some hope that
your papa and I might arrange to live together,
and be a comfort to each other iu our
old day9. But he seems quite averse to the
idea of making any change, so, of course, I
will not press it. I do think, however, dear
Rosamond, that if he would have consented
to such an arrangemeut, it would have been
a good thing for him, and, therefore; apart
from any selfish cousideratiou, I regret sincerely,
that it has fallen through. Your
father is too melancholy and reserved, and I
think a little company would brighten him
up. His health is excellent, but his spirits
are certainly not good. I could make his
home cheerful and comfortable, and though I
could not pretend to supply your place, I
would, at all events, exert myself to keep him
from missing you so much."
My dear father! The picture of him in
his lonely home, wrapping himself in his mantle
of silent pride, and refusing to accept even
the ministrations offered him by the affection
of one of his nearest of kin, smote me with
sorrow and pity. I longed to rush to him and
bring him to us, aud bind my husband and
him together in a chain formed of the strong
links of my own love for them both. But
alas! such a union was not possible. I had
chosen between the two, knowing that iu accepting
the one I was placing a barrier between
myself and the other. Though I still
entertained the hope that in time this barrier
might be broken down, and the all-powerful
associations of the past come to my aid in restoring
me to my old place in the heart that
had cherished me so long. That my father's
love for me was lessened, I did not suppose;
but I longed for a renewal of the confidence
and sympathy which seemed to have departed
from our intercourse for ever.
I said something of this to Arthur. He
smiled, aud rejoined a little reproachfully?
"You have ouly beeu married two months
and a half. Rosamond, and vou wish to run
away and leave me already!"
"I would like you to go home with me," I
replied.
"That you know, is impossible. Your father's
sentiments are well known to us both, and
I cannot act in direct opposition to them."
"If he would only have aunt Mabel to live
with him !" I sighed, "I would be quite happy
then."
"I want you to be quite happy, just as you
are. Don't make me jealous of your father,
Rosamond!"
"I thought the jealousy was all the other
way," said I. "What hard creatures to please,
all you men are!"
But I saw that it was a subject which would
not bear iucautious handling. Arthur could
be exacting, as well as other people ; and of
course it was natural that he should wish my
first thoughts to be for him. So I resolved to
cultivate reticence, lest too free an exposition
of my feelings might give dissatisfaction?a
resolution which was excessively difficult for
me to put in practice.
In a week or two more, old Mr. Cannon
and his family moved away; and Stephen
Hilcombe came to prepare his new residence
for his bride. He made his appearance unexpectedly
one day, just as we were sitting
down to dinner.
"How do you do, Dr. Wardlaw?" he said
with the easy familiarity of long acquaintanceship,
as my husband rose to meet him, though
the intercourse between them had been very
slight. Theu as he shook hands with me, he
added, "I need not inquire after your health ;
I never saw you looking so charmingly well/'
He laid a slight, but perceptible stress upon
the adverb, which I inwardly resented. I
answered distantly that I was quite well.
"Sit down, Mr. Holcorabe, and join us at
dinner," said Dr. Wardlaw, courteously.
"Thank you ; I dined two hours ago, but I
cannot resist the gratification of a little chat.
I suppose you know that I am about to become
a near neighbor of yours, doctor ?"
"So I have had the pleasure of hearing,"
said my husband. "How soon do you intend
to move ?"
"Early in March, I think."
"That is not a favorable season. A little
earlier or a little later would be better, on account
of the blustering, unpleasant weather
and cold rainy spells we are subject to in that
month."
T Irnnn. . V..,f Trr.it aaa TTIT7 mamaPO t&keS
J. RUUTT y UUl/ JVu OVV -
place at the eud of February, and it suits me
to remove here as soon as possible afterwards.
I fcruet;" he continued, addressing himself to
me, "that you will both lend us the support
of your presence on that eventful occasion ?"
"I believe," said I, glancing toward ray
husband, "that it will not suit Dr. Wardlaw
to travel at that season. I ara sorry that we
Qaunot be present, but I shall console myself
| in the anticipation of seeing Eilen here soon a
afterward." h
"How does Miss Vincent like the idea of,
! quitting her native State?" asked my husband. r<
j "She does not say much in regard to it," d
i replied Stephen. "I flatter myself that, under
the circumstances, she will be able to support
it with equanimity."
Insupportably conceited creature, was my
silent reflection. ; st
j "How do you like the change?" continued f?
our guest, again turning to me.'
j "I am very much pleased with everything j
I here," I replied. st
i "T riinnosR. however, mv Question was hard-! di
-ri ? / ?^ A ^
! ly a fair one?ehf doctor ?" said Stephen, | t(
j laughing. "At all events, I could look for ' it
but one answer in your presence."
"Mrs. Wardlaw, I trust, finds my presence '
no restraint upon the candid expression ofjc<
! her opinions, on this or any other subject," d
i said my husband, rather stiffly. "Mr. Hoi- p
j combe, allow me to help you to a bit of this
chicken, or do you prefer some of the roast?" st
Stephen attempted no further badinage, d<
and I felt delighted that Dr. Wardlaw had
succeeded in putting him down. He stayed o:
sometime after dinner, and I began to hope,
; devoutly, as I saw Arthur glancing toward d
the clock, that I would not be left alone with b>
him, as I really dreaded a Wte-a-tete. It grew no
later and later, and he showed no sign of any c<
. intention to depart. At length the servant n<
J came to the door and announced thathi3 masi
ter's horse was ready. I made a private sig- tl
: nal to Arthur not to go ; but to my dismay, tl
| after waiting for a few minutes longer, to see
whether the announcement wouiu nave any ?
effect on our guest's movements, and finding
that it had none, he rose, though with evident It
! reluctance, and making an apology for his m
! enforced absence, left the room?Stephen beg- if
ging him, with easy assurance, not to hasten -A
I himself on his account, as he would quite ui
! enjoy a little talk with me about old times, oi
j and would, with our permission, spend the
| evening with us, and ride home after tea. w
I was angry with my husband for placing &
! me in this predicament, and doubly angry ai
with Stepheu for his obtrusiveness ; and I in
looked, I do not doubt, ungracious enough, n:
! as I entrenched myself in a corner of the fire- w
j place, and devoted my attention to my little ae
' greyhound, Blanche, who had jumped up in ie
my lap to be petted. My unwelcome visitor, w
no way daunted by my reserve, discoursed tl
lightly on various topics of a trifling nature, w
and politeness required that I should not keep b<
silent. I, therefore, forced myself to make w
such remarks and replies as seemed necessary,
all the while longing for seven o'clock to come it
thot- Dp WnrHluw miahf. rptnrn Mv noai
| VMMV ?' - " ?e> J I .
j tion was certainly a disagreeable one; yet "
: there was not the slightest indication in my
j companion's manner that he felt it to be such, c?
I or that he had the least recollection of any- ti
i thing unusual having transpired in our pre- tx
I vious intercourse. I was, of course, consider!
ably relieved to 6nd that this was the case ; ai
I for though I felt that ray position as a mar- w
ried woman was a safeguard against any rep- r<
etition of his former advances, yet I did not
know what uupleasant allusion to them he might
choose to make, and was anxious to |j
avoid the necessity of being uncivil to him in ?
ray own house.
Seven o'clock came, and my husband did
| not appear. I began to look aud listen aux,
iously for his arrival. He was always so exceedingly
punctual, that I feared that some
i accident might have happened to retard his ?
return. Half-past seven?eight o'clock ! I
j could no longer disguise my uneasiness, and,
; ringing the bell, I was about to give orders to
have some one go in search of him, when I
i 1 .u. ?i 1 I
; wcrtiu me wciuuujc ouuuu ui uio uuioco
j approaching the house, and directly after, he ^
| entered the hall; but instead of coming into
! the parlor, went through the passage which gc
; led to the rear of the house. Supposing that t|
he wished to make some alteration in his dress ^
I before re-appearing in the presence of our
' guest, I was not surprised at this proceeding ;
i but when an additional quarter of an hour t
j had elapsed, and he was still absent, I resolv- ^
1 ed to find out for myself if anything unusual gj
had happened.
"Excuse me for a moment, if you please," ^
I said to Stephen. "I wish to ask Dr. Wardlaw
a question, and will be back directly;"
and leaving the parlor, I hastened to the ^
housekeeper's room, as I had heard him go up
stairs. As I reached the door I heard voices ra
in earnest consultation. I opened it, abd looking
in, saw my husband, Barbara, and a third
person whom I had never before seen, an el- i
derly woman of respectable appearance, all
talking in a confidential manner together. I q
! naa remained ror a moment regarding ine
j group before my entrance was perceived by
I any of them. Then as I approached, Dr. ^
I Wardlaw and Barbara looked up simulta- y
neonsly, and I noticed that they both changed gi
| color and seemed disturbed. For the first:
J time, a chill of suspicion and distrust struck | {j(
i cold upon my heart. j
"Is anything the matter, Arthur ?" I asked, ; ^
feigning a composure which I did not feel, j
I He came forward to meet me, and took my i ja
hand. "Nothing to disturb you, my dear," w
i he answered, gently. "Has Mr. Holcombe ^
gone?" tc
J "No," said I coldly, "Mr. Holcombe has 8l
( not gone; but as I have been left to the task j p
! of entertaining him the whole evening, I h:
| thought he could dispense for a moment with sj
: company, while I came to reiieve my natural Q,
1 :.i.. j a *
auxieiy 111 regaru iu yuu. /\b yvu any uutii- w
ing is wrong, I may as well return to the par- ^
lor at once." r(
"I am sorry you should have been anxious p
about me," he rejoined. "I was unavoidably ^
detained." He allowed me to withdraw my
I hand as he spoke, and as he made no farther Ci
effort to detain me, I immediately left the g
room. A few minutes afterward, he joined p
us in the parlor; but he seemed thoughtful g
and pre-occupied, and Stephen Holcorabe had C(
the discretion shortly after to take his depar- b<
ture. CI
I devoted myself sedulously to a piece of p
! work with which I had provided myself, wait- b
i ing for Dr. Wardlaw to break the silence. I ft
! expected that an explanation of some sort st
would of course follow ; but I was mistaken. t|
j Dr. Wardlaw remained in a sort of reverie, p(
gazing abstractedly into the fire, apparently p
unconscious that anything in the shape of an j e|
explanation was at all necessary for hiui to ; g
offer me. ei
I was surprised, mortified, indignant. As
! nine o'clock struck, I hailed the souud as a p
: welcome summons, and rose to go to bed. g
i ??wi ,1 .. >" ociro/t mv 4,
H IIC1C aic jruu ucai ; aoiv^u u<j i ^
hushand, looking up as I moved. j h
! "Up-staire," said I, shortly. "I find it tire- vv
: some down here." : I:
"Come here and sit by me a little, won't i F
you? You cannot be sleepy yet," he said, fi
holding out his hand. I did not notice it, but y
went on putting up my work. w
"I am afraid I have not been very enter- t<
taining company for you," he continued ; "but tl
11 feel a little unwell this evening." j h
"You probably took too long a ride," I sug- S
gested.
"No, I am not tired." T
"At all events, I may as well go," said I, e<
| "since you are not disposed to talk." p
"I will talk now, if you wish it," he urged. It
"Oh! dou't force your inclinations on my j a
| account," I rejoined, lingering nevertheless in 1<
the desire to hear what he might have to say. j u
He held out his hand again, and I came,; rI
though still reluctantly, and sat down beside fi
him. ' , ' c
"Poor child!" he said stroking my hair, ti
' "you feel the ueed of some diversion, I am c
fraid. This is too dull an existence for you
ere."
"You know I do not mind that at all," I
jplied ; "but there are some things which I
0 mind."
"Tell me what, for instance."
I was silent.
"Have I vexed you, Rosamond ?"
"Vexed is not the right word," I replied,
ruggling with my desire not to betray my
telings.
"Have I injured you, then ?"
"You certainly do not treat me rightly,"
tid I, passionately, "in making me of seconary
importance in your household." I was
)o unaccustomed to concealment; my pent-up
idignation would break forth.
"Do I make you of secondary importance?"
"It appears so. You take others into your
mfidence, while you shut me out of it. I
id not expect that, when I promised not to
ry into your secrets."
"You bring a grave charge against me," he
lid, in a moved tone. "Oh! Rosamond,
on't judge me harshly."
1 looked up, surprised by the earneetness
f the appeal.
"Arthur," I said, entreatingly, "pray, pray
on't let any coldness or estrangement come
etween us! I do try to keep to our agreelent,
but it is hard to think that you don't
msider me worthy of knowing what most
early concerns you."
"I consider you worthy of knowing anyling,"
he answered. "But there are some
?ings?Oh ! child, you cannot understand.''
"Then explain?explain," I urged, trembng
with an undefined anxiety and dread.
Tell me what it is that I cannot understand.
) there any mystery?any dreadful concealient
hanging over us? I have felt lately as
there must be; I cannot tell why. Dear
.rthur, whatever it may be, I shall be less
ohappy in knowing it than in being shut out
F it."
"My dear Rosamond," said my husband,
ith renewed composure, after I had waited
>r a moment, in speechless apprehension, for
i answer to my appeal, "you are mistaken
i supposing that there is any such dreadful
iystery hanging over our heads, or that I am
ilfully shutting you out of any important
aret. I do not deny that I have some anxties
which it is not necessary to trouble you
ith. And as to Barbara's knowledge of
tern, you cannot consider that surprising,
hen you remember how many years she has
sen my companion, and been acquainted
ith all my affairs/'
f'TUAn ?aii fnl 1 ma 9" T oairl rlro id.
XUCU) J UU ITWiJ If tun IUU i JL OUlU| U4UH
lg back with undisguised chagrin.
"There is nothing to tell?nothing that
would profit you to know."
"Very well," said I, springing up, and esipingfrora
his detaining hand, "I shall not
ouble you again?you can keep your secrets
) yourself, for all I care !"
I uttered the childish speech with the pason
and impetuosity of a child, and without
aiting to hear his answer, hastened out of the
)om, closiug the door violently behind me.
[to be continued next week.]
Kiotottr of teoliua.
13
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
HISTORICAL SKETCHES
OK THE
arly Settlement of South Carolina.
' BY BEV. ROBERT LATHAN.
(continued from last week.)
For mauv reasons, the increase of popula
on in South Carolina was not so rapid as
as desirable, nor so great as might have readable
been expected. In 1724, the populaon
was thirty-two thousand, of which nuraer
fourteen thousand were whites. Iu 1734,
ie population was oniy thirty thousand, of
hieh eight thousand were whites and twenf-two
thousand slaves. The whites had, in
in years, decreased six thousand, and the
aves increased four thousand. If the census
iturns of 1734 are correct, it will be difficult
> account for the decrease. The province
as visited, in 1628, by the yellow fever, which
reatly reduced the number of inhabitants,
ad from a petition sent up by the people to
ie king of England, we are informed that
iany families had gone, with their effects, to
orth Carolina.
About the time of which we are speaking, it
as, it seems, a daily occurrence for individals
to leave South Carolina and go to North
arolina. The reason of this was the fact,
lat up to the time of the settlement of Georia,
South Carolina was a frontier settlement
ad exposed, as we have already seen, to the
paniards of St. Augustine, and the various
irrniindinir Indian trihes.
? ? ? 0
There was another fact which had a tenancy,
for a time, to retard the growth of the
opulation of South Carolina. The French,
i 1712, made a settlement at the mouth of
ie Mississippi. Louis XIV, granted a
irge tract of country to Crozat. This, as
ill be remembered, was within the limits of
ie territory granted, by Charles the Second,
) the eight original proprietors, and by their
lccessors ceded to the Crown of England in
729. The simple fact that a French colony
ad been planted at the mouth of the Missis-'
ppi, was, of itself, a matter of little conseuence.
The distance from South Carolina
as so very great, and land so very abundant,
iat no very great inconvenience could have
;sulted from the settling of a colony of
'rench at this point. It will, however, be relembered,
that France, from an early period,
iid claim to the whole of the North Amerim
continent, and, she thought, upon as good
rounds as those by which it was claimed by
Ingland. Louis had no good design in
ranting a tract of land to Crozat. This
jlony was not content to remain in the neighorhood
of the spot on which it at first loited,
but gradually extended itself eastward,
orts were built in the territory now occupied
y the present State of Alabama. In these
>rts soldiers were stationed, and from these
rongholds emissaries were sent out amongst
le various Indian tribes, for the special purose
of alienating their affections toward the
Inglish. This fact, as much as anything
se, retarded the increase of population in
outh Carolina, and no doubt tended to
uise it to decrease.
The settlement of Georgia changed the asects
of things in South Carolina. Immirants
now began to flock in from all quarts
of Europe. The eleven townships which
ad been, by order of the Assembly, laid out,
ere gradually receiving settlers. Germany,
reland, Scotland, Switzerland, and even
'ranee, as well as England, contributed to
II the country with inhabitants. In twenty
ears after the settlement of Georgia, the
hite population ofSouth Carolina amounted
iLLt., nr?/l Ko olaHno oononfd
) llliriy tuuuaaiiu, auvi uiu oiavco tu
lousand. The Georgia colony contributed,
oth directly and indirectly, to the growth of
outh Carolina.
The form of government established by the
'rustees, in Georgia, was, by no means adapted
to the circumstances of the people. The
eople were restricted in their agricultural
abors to the production of wines and silk;
nd the first settlers being poor people, col;cted
from the cities of Europe, were totally
nfit for making a settlement in the forest,
'he result was, many of them became dissated
and crossed the Savannah and became
itizens of South Carolina. In order to obain
settlers of the proper character for their
olony, the Trustees of Georgia had recourse
I to the Highlands of Scotland and the rural
! districts of Germany. From Inverness, in
Scotland, one hundred and thirty HighlandI
ere were received; and from Germany one
hundred and seventy. These new comraere
| settled in different sections, and proved valu,
able accessions to the inhabitants of Georgia. '
The Purrysburg colony soon became dissat-,
isfied. At first the members of this Swiss col- j
ony were delighted at the prospect of being,!
i in a short time, the owners of large land ]
; estates; but the climate proved unfavorable.
I Many of them sickened and died. The sur;
vivors murmured and repined, and Purry was
j censured for inducing them to leave the
i mountains and glens of their native land. i
The condition of things in many of the
! governments of Europe, contributed to in-!
; crease the number of the inhabitants of South
Carolina. .Religious persecution drove some
of thebest men, with their families, from their
native land to the New World. With great
propriety it may be said that God opened up
America that the oppressed of every creed
might find a home in itq wilds?that the down
trodden might be free- It is worthy of note
that North America offered its extensive forests
as an asylum to the persecuted Protestants
of Europe. . _
About the year 1731, the Scotch-Irish began
to pour into South Caroliua in large num!
bere. The history of these immigrants is intensely
interesting, and is intimately interwoven
with the history of South Carolina.
Scotch-Irish is used in contradistinction to
| Catholic-Irish. The Scotch-Irioh were all
j Protestants; whilst the Irish were the downI
nnU?AAia AI* T?AA
' LiUUUCU OUUJCUIO UL bUO X U|/C U1 XkUUiCi
But Scotch-Irish has another signification. 1
It is used to designate an individual whose an
I cestors originally came from Scotland and set- 1
tied in Ireland. Still, again, Scotch-Irish ^
means a class of person who, at a very early <
period, were also called Covenanters. The
history of these Scotch-Irish, or Covenanters, t
is the most thrilling chapter in the history of a
the world. Their name is derived from a i
particular act performed by them. In 11)37, t
on the 3rd of December, a number of the Prot- i
estant nobles met at Edinburgh and signed a
paper which, from its nature, was called a oov- c
euaut. In this document they solemnly cove- a
nanted, "That we, by God'B grace, shall, with 1
all diligence, continually apply our whole i
power, substanceaod our very lives, to main- f
tain, set forward, and establish the word of i
God, and his congregation ; and shall labor 1
at our possibility to have faithful ministers, i
purely and truly to minister Christ's evangel t
and sacrament to his people." The object of s
this document, was simply a voluntary pledge f
on the part of the signers to be for God, in op- i
position to all Popish errors. They pledged t
their lives and their sacred honor in this holy i
cause. On the 31st of May, 1559, this cove- i
nant, or rather another covenant similar in t
* _ J T\ iL. iZ T -
import, was again signea. r roin tuu tunc ui
the signing of the first covenant, these people
were persecuted as none others ever have
been. The trials and difficulties to which
they were exposed beggars description. Old
men, leaning on their staffs, were tied to the
stake and burned to death ; whilst young men
were confined in dark dungeons to drag out a
miserable existence. No people ever more
dearly loved liberty. They detested both
civil and ecclesiastical tyrants. Patrick
Henry reiterated their sentiments when he
said, "give me liberty or give me death.''
Again, in 1638, the Covenanters assembled
at their capital and proceeded to the Grayfriars
church. It was the 28th of February,
J a day ever memorable in Scotch history. At
day break the commissioners met and read
the covenant over. The people, at an early
hour, began to assemble. The capacious
house was soon filled ; then the grave yard.
Henderson led the vast multitude to a throne
of grace. The covenant was produced and
unrolled and read by Johnson. This done,
the silence of death followed. All present
felt that upon the transactions of that hour,
depended the prosperity of the church of God
for years in the future. At last, the awful Bilence
was broken by the Earl of Sutherland,
tottering beneath the weight of years, making
his way through the <leuse crowd, and with
trembling hand subscribing his name to the I
document. Thespell was now broken. Name 1
after name was added, until, Anally, that more '
room might be secured, the covenant was <
taken out and spread upon one of the tomb- )
stones in the grave-yard. Here the scene be- came
intensely affecting. Multitudes wept '
aloud, whilst others added, after their names, 1
"till death," and others opened the veins in '
their arras, and with the warm blood thus ob- (
tained, subscribed their names, pledging <
themselves to serve God. (
In aftertimes, sorely were tbe signers of 1
I this covenant persecuted by the minions of '
Rome. Their children and grand children 1
shared the same fate; but still they were '
noble, generous and brave, Many of them, *
in the reign of Charles the Second, fled to j
Ireland, and settled in tha County Down. '
Here they remained for a, period of about ?
sixty years, and then being oppressed by land- 1
lords, they turned their eyes toward America. 1
In 1733, a company of these Scotch-Irish, or 1
Covenanters, came to Charles Town, South (
Carolina. A petition was sent to the Council '
by James Pring le, and other Protestant-Irish, '
asking that their passage be paid. The Council
agreed that their passage would be paid 1
and supplies furnished them, provided they 1
would settle a township as had been done by 1
the Swiss at Purrysburgh. On their arrival, 11
a quantity of corn, peas, beef and salt was 1
I furnished them, and they made their way up 1
the Black River and settled in Black River 1
I Township. Another supply of provisions was, (
i by tho Council, furnished these settlers, when 1
| those previously granted were exhausted. 1
Thou nn fhoir arrival, found hilt two settlers ?
in this section of the State?one by the name ! 1
of Finley and the other by the name of Rut- '
ledge. These two individuals had come from j'
j Charles Town, up Black River for the purpose jf
; of raising rice, but failing, returned. Their 1
i settlement was made on the bays which slill 11
1 retain their names. 11
The first Irish settlers came up Black river j 1
and landed at Potato Ferry. Lauds were 1
laid out to them on the Santee. The name? | y
, Williamsburgh?in honor of William the j
Third, Prince of Orange, was given to the
settlement. It grew but slowly at first. The ; '
; climate and the great labor of clearing up the ,
forest and preparing it for cultivation, proved j
: more than mauy of the settlers could bear, j s
! Their numbers were greatly reduced by death, 1
| but, from time to time, others came and join- j J
i ed them, and the merchants sold them slaves a
by whom they were relieved from much toil, t
i The settlement began to grow, both in numbers ^
and in wealth. No section of the State can *
i show a brighter record than that of Williams- ''
, hnn?h. Those Scotch-Irish acted out what
I ' ? e??* #
Patrick Henry said. During the Revolution- e
ary war there was not one tory amongst *
! their descendants, and but one royalist. No b
i people are more ready to take up arras, where
' liberty is at stake, than the Scotch-Irish.
' Find thera where you may, you will find men
j of great moral courageand physical endurance. B
These trials, which these early settlers were v
called to pass through, we may learn, in part, 11
i from the history of the Witherspoon, family aB j v
written by Robert Witherspoon, who, in com- j fc
pany with his father, emigrated from the j t
County Downe, Ireland, in 1734. As was j r
j common at that time, a part of the family ' t
i preceded the rest in order to make prepara- i i:
tions for them. The preparation often t
amounted to no more than constructing a pole \
hut and covering it with dirt. "We went on 1
ship board," Bays Robert Witherspoon, "the i
4th of September, and lay wind-bound in the C
ough at Belfast fourteen days. The second J
lay of our sail my grand mother died, and :
vas interred in the raging ocean, which was
in afflictive sight to her offspring. We were
orely tossed at sea with storms, which caused ;
>ur ship to spring a leak. Our pumps were 1
cept incessantly at work, day and night; for
nany days our mariners seemed, many times,
it their wits end. But it pleased God to
>ring us all safe to land, which was about the ?
irst of December. We landed in Charles '
town three weeks before Christmas. We *
bund the inhabitants very kind. We staid
n town until after Christmas, and were put 1
>n board of an open boat, with tools and a 1
rear's provisions, and one still-mill. They al- ?
? -* " '1 ?? -1* MrtniAMHn aivf/wan nnn o vfl ?
uvycu cauu uttuuj upnai uo vi oiai^u, vuv uav(
>ne broad hoe and one narrow hoe. Our
irovisions were Indian corn, rice, wheaten 8
iour, beef, pork, rum, and salt. We were ^
nuch distressed in this part of our passage. 8
^.8 it was the dead of winter, we were exposed t
;o the inclemency of the weather day, and 4
light; and (which added to the grief of all t
lious persons on board) the atheistical and
ilasphemous mouths of our patroons and the j
ither hands. They brought us up as far as 1
Potatoe Ferry, and turned us on shore, where 1
velay In Samuel Commander's barn for some 4
ime; and the boat wrought her way up to 1
he King's Tree, with the goods and provis- 1
ons, which is the first boat that, I believe, I
;ver came up so high before. While we lay 8
it Mr. Commander's, our men came up in
>rder to get dirt houses to take their families *
o. They brought some few horses with them. I
iVhat help they could get from the few in- 1
labitants, in order to carry children and oth- c
;r necessaries up, they availed themselves of. 8
\.s the woods were full of water and most se- t
?ere frosts, it was very severe on women and
ibildren. T
"We set out in the morning, and some got 1
10 farther that day than Mr. McDonald's, and 1
ome as far as Mr. Plowden's; some to James 8
Armstrong's, and some to uncle William 1
Tames'. Their little cabins were as full that .
light as they could hold, and the next day 1
ivery one made the best they could to their j
?wn place, which was the first day of Febru- *
iry, 1735. My father had brought on ship- 8
joard four children, viz : David, Robert, 8
Tohn and Sarah. Sarah died in Charles Town, 1
ind was the first buried at the Scotch Meet- 8
ng House graveyard. When we came to the .
Bluff, my mother and us children were still '
n expectation that we were coming to an c
igreeable place. But when we arrived and (
aw nothing but a wilderness, and instead of a 1
ine timbered bouse, nothing but a mean dirt j
>ue, our spirits quite sank ; and what added '
o our trouble, our pilot we had with us from (
mcle William James', left us when we came (
n sight of the place. My father gave us all !
he comfort he could, by telling us we would
ret all these trees cut down, and in a short \
;ime, there would be plenty of inhabitants, so .
,hat we could see from house to house. While 1
ive were at this, our fire we brought from Bog 1
3warnp went out. Father had heard that up |
;he river swamp was the King's Tree, although
there was no path ; neither did he |
know the distance. Yet he followed up the k
swamp until he came to the branch, and by
that found Rodger Gordon's. We watched 1
aim as far as the trees would let us see, and (
returned to our dolorous hut, expecting never
to see him or any human person more. But,
after some time, he returned and brought <
firo. We were some comforted ; but evening i
coming on, the wolves began to howl on all
aides. We then feared being devoured by !
wild beasts, having neither gun nor dog, nor <
any door to our house. Howbeit, we set to
and gathered fuel and made on a good fire, i
and so passed the first night. The next day <
being a clear, warm morning, we began to
atir about; but about mid-day there rose a
cloud south-west, attended with a high wind, <
thunder and lightning. The rain quickly
penetrated through between the poles and
brought down the sand that covered them i
ever, which seemed to threaten to bury us i
alive. The lightning and claps were very
awful, and lasted a good space of time. I do i
cot remember to have seen a much severer <
?ust than that was. I believe we all sincerely
wished ourselves again at Belfast. But I
this fright was soon over, and the evening 1
cleared up comfortable and warm. The boat J
that brought up the goods arrived at the
King's Tree. People were much oppressed in <
cringing their things, as there was no horse i
there. They were obliged to toil hard, and j
cad no other way but to convey their beds, I
clothing, provisions, chests, tools, pots, &c., on I
their backs. And at that time there were few ^
jr no roads, and every family bad to travel
the best way they could, which was here
louble distance to some, for they had to fol- |
low swamps and branches for their guides, (
for some time. After a season, some men got ;
such a knowledge of the woods as to blaze ,
' ' 1 ' 4 ' ? ? ? ?? J mil I/i ^Vvl 1 r?m
patns, so mat peopie souu iuuuu uut w iuuuk j
Diazes from place to place. As the winter
jeason was far advanced, the time to prepare
:br planting was very short. Yet people were
rerv strong and healthy. All that could do
inything wrought diligently, and continued
clearing and planting as long as the season
tvould admit, so that they made provisions
ior the ensuing year.
"As they had but few beasts, a little served
he in and as the range was good, they had no
leed of feeding creatures for some years. I
emember that among the first things my
'ather brought from the boat was his gun,
vhich was one of Queen Anne's muskets. He
lad her loaded with swan shot. One morning,
when we were at breakfast, there was a traviling
possum on his way passing by the door;
liy mother screamed out saying, 'There is a
jreat bear.' Mother and us children hid ourlelves
behind some barrels aud the chest, at
he other end of our hut, whilst father got
lis gun, and steadied her, past the fork that
leld up that end of the house, and shot him
ibout the binder parts, which caused poor
lossura to grin and open his mouth io a frightul
manner. Father was in haste to give him
,o a second bout, but the shot being mislaid
n the hurry, could not be found. We were
lenned up for some time. Father at length
ventured out and killed it with a pale.
"Another source of alarm was the Indians.
iVhen they came to hunt in the spring, they v
1 : 11 ^1 j
vere in great nuruuers iu an pia^ca nao tug u
Egyptian locusts, but they were not hurtful. 1
"We had a great deal of trouble and hard- v
hips in our first settling, but the few Inhabi- t
ants continued still in health and strength,
fet we were oppressed with fears, on divers
ccounts, especially of being massacred by ?
he Indians, or bit by snakes, or torn by wild ^
easts, or being lost and perishing in the v
roods. Of this last calamity there were three p
stances." 0
Such were the sufferings endured by the
arly settlers of that section of the State
rhicb is called Williamsburgh, as narrated
iy one who experienced them.
[to be continued next week.]
JSf" There were seized in a Washington pawn
hop, recently, by a special treasury agent, a c
rhite lace dress valued at $10,000, a white
ace shawl valued at $5,000, and other laces
alued at $5,000. The articles, which'had
leen pawned for $875, formerly belonged, to
he Empress Eugenie, and were among the u
ichest in the world, They were sold at the
ime of the sale of her diamonds and jewelry '1
England, a short time after the removal of
he Empress from France to Ohiselhurst, and d
rere smuggled into this country in October,
873, escaping the detectives who were look- s:
og for their arrival.
^Uscrllanctius grading.
Correspondence of the Cincinnati Commercial.
PEACE IN MISSISSIPPI.
i NORTHERN OBSERVER'S ACCOUNT OF HOW
THE ELECTION WAS WON.
Jackson, Tuesday night, November 2.
The feeling all along has been that election
lay here would be very quiet or very bloody.
The condition of things was such that, if there
vas any disturbance at all, it would be fearful.
Up to this writing there has not been the
east trouble, and as the negroes are leaving
own rapidly, and as the whites are in a jolly
rood humor, there is a diminished chance for
i row.
It has been as quiet an election as I ever
ittended. When every man knew that every
vhite man was armed, and that a single peronal
difficulty might fire the mine and lead
o the slaughter of a hundred, there was great
:ircurasoection of conduct and exquisite care
? avoid treading upon other people's toes.
Then every precaution was taken to secure
>eace. There was a large force of special poicemen
and deputy sheriffs on the ground, se
ected from both parties, and every saloon is (
dosed from 12 last night until to-morrow mor- (
ting. The peace officers have orders to ar- ,
est every disorderly and drunken man, and (
tut him in the common jail until the polls ,
ire closed and the votes counted.
In addition, the worthy citizens of Jackson, ,
hose more interested in the peace and prosterity
of the city than any one else can possi
tly be, have been on the ground the entire
lay, going from polling place to polling place, j
ind using all their influence in the preservaion
of peace. ^
Above all, the Federal soldiers at the bar- j
acks were under orders to rush into the city,
be very moment there was an outbreak, and (
>reserve the peace. They have been prepared,
md, at the signal, would have nothing to do
>ut "fall in."
Yet with all the precaution, fear and anxety
hung over the city like a pall last night, j
from here and from Edwards, Bolton and
Dlinton, on the Vicksburg road, many women '
ind children were sent into Vicksburg for
afety. Matters had been arranged in that |
lsually tumultuous city until it was regarded
is one of the places least liable to a row.
I believe that the probabilities of a row '
lere were thought to be greater than at any j
>ther point in the Stote. It is a sort of head]uarters
for the Republicans; many are here
whose lives have been threatened in other parts (
>f the State, who, of course, are in no genial .
jumor ; the colored people have been told to ,
:ome into town and vote, regardless of consequences
; the whites were armed and deter- 1
uined, and upon a survey of the whole field,
[ thought Jackson in more danger from an 1
wtbreak than any other place in the State.
Therefore, I remained here, not to take part 1
n the expected riot, but to be on hand to give !
;he world a true history of it in my feeble 1
way. I rejoice exceedingly that I have no 1
bloody chapter to write to-night. So far, the
iespatches have revealed but one fracas in tbe (
state ; that occurred this morning near Port
Gribson. Only two men were killed, one white
and one black, which is a remarkably light
casualty list for that quarter.
AT THE POLLS.
All day long I have been atone or the other
of the three voting places of the city and
3uburbs.
Every business house in the city was closed
from early morning until night, giving tbe
city a Sunday appearance. This was done
thatevery white man might give his undivided
attention to securing the election of the Democratic
ticket, upon the success of which they
believe that their very salvation depends.
I never before saw such determination to
carry an election, the whole body of the white
people being moved by a common impulse.
The wealthy citizens have given liberally of
their means to secure votes, without nice i
scruples as to bow the votes were obtained.
Every white man resolved himself into a committee
to secure the vote of at least one colored
man.
The result is astonishing. I would not have
believed that so many colored people could
have been got to vote tbe Democratic ticket
as I have seen do it here to-day.
No force or violence or intimidation was
employed. I wai;ched for this closely, and
had the assistance of another party, but we
jointly and severs lly failed to discover anything
that could lee properly called intimida- ion.
VHY SO MA NY COLORED MEN VOTED THE DEMOCRATIC
TICKET. I
More voted with the whites here than ever
eefore?yes, more than twice as many as at any
ether election. They were chiefly influenced
n this by the non-interference of the govern- j
sent. Because the government did not step f
n at the request of Gov. Ames, they have ]
got the notion that it has "gone back on |
hom " an t.hev nail it. and now. beintr without i
support, they must cultivate friendly relations
n politics with the whites. They know that
;hey cannot maintain a contest with them
without government support, and as they have
seen deprived of that support, the next best
;hing is to accept the inevitable. This was
;he chief influence operating among them
lere, and the great cause of such an unusual
lumber voting the Democratic ticket
Another influence was the well known fact
;hat the whites are in arms j that they intend
10 longer to live under negro rule if they have
0 fight to get out. The negroes do not want
1 fight They know what that means. So
nany voted with the whites as a matter of j ]
:onciliation, preferring to see Democrats elec- j
ed than to have a row in which they would
)e the chief sufferers. t
Half the servants at the hotel where I stop f
roted the Democratic ticket to the great as- c
onishment and gratification of the proprietor, t
vho counted only upon three. This morning ?
he proprietor said to one of the clerks: t
'Gave you talked to so and so (mentioning ]
bur) among the dining-room boys?" *
"No, sir," replied Mr. Phillips, "it is not a a
fit of use. They will vote the Radical ticket e
f you should argue with them a week." p
Yet these very four, as I happen to know, c
oted the straight Democratic ticket. They ?
lid it because they conceive that the Repub- e
ican party here is "gone up," and they don't
rant to stand out in apparent antagonism to
he whites. ?
CURIOUS INDUCEMENTS. *
I witnessed many strange scenes at the i
oils, and around about among the crowd, f
'his sort of thing was often repeated by men t
rho were supplied with money for the pur- a
ose. A man would select his darkey and j g
perate on him in this wise : |1
"Uncle, have you voted ?" p
"No, sah." s
'Going to vote?" g
"Yea, sah. c
"How?" g
"The 'Publican ticket, sah." ?
"Can't I persuade you to vote the Demo- r
ratic ticket?" n
"No, sah."
"You are afraid to vote it, are you ?"
"No, aah, not a bit." a
"I'll bet two dollars you are afraid to step a
p there and vote the Democratic ticket, n
"Me 'fraid! No, sah j dis nigger ain't a
"raid ; he ain't the skerry sort, he ain't." f
"Well, I'll bet two dollars you are afiraid to t<
o it," gi
"Put up your money. I'll take the bet, fi
ah ; I'm no akeery nigger." fa
The money is handed to a third party. The a
negro ia given a Democratic ticket, and accompanied
to the polls by a white man, who
seee that it is voted. Then the negro returns,
and is paid the "wager" he has won!
A neat way that to bay votes, and at the
)ame time escape the penalty of the law. A
hundred dollars thus expended goes some distance
in adding to Democratic "gains."
I saw a negro and a white man go to the
polls side by side, and each vote the Democratic
ticket Then the white man took the negro
to a cozy nook, and gave him two drinks of
(vhisky and a handful of cigars. I could not
jay that he bought the vote; he only took the
Dccaaion to treat his colored friend.
An old negro man, apparently too old to
work, and looking to be really needy, stood
near the polls with a Republican ticket A
white boy, not over thirteen, said to him:
whv Hnn't. vnn vote the Democratic
ticket ? These carpet-baggers don't care any
thing for you. They'd let you starve to
death."
"I donno but they would," replied the old
man, "for I'm hungry right now. If you'll
get me a little money to get some bread to
taketoomeTril vote the Democratic ticket"
The boy's face brightened up. He went to
the bottom of his pockets, turned them inside
iut, but he could find nothing but a five-cent
aickel. Giving that and a Democratic ticket
jo the old man, he went after more, and I have
10 doubt gained a vote for the Democracy.
There was some trickery, aod a few votes
were gained "in the ways that are dark."
To protect negroes who could not read, the
Republicans printed their tickets on yellow
paper. The Democrats straightway printed
some on the same sort of paper, hoping to
gain something by the mistakes which men
ffho do not know a letter in the book, would
laturally make.
After all argument had been exhausted
apon a certain negro, and by no possibility
could he be got to agree to vote the Democratic
ticket, be was, in a few instances, brought
ntn it in thia wiap : A a thev annroached the
soils, in line, a white man would say, "Well,
jncle, you are going to vote the straight Re*
oublican ticket, are you ?"
' "Yes, sah."
"That's right Let every man vote with
bis color. I'm a white man, and vote the
Democratic ticket?[unfolding it.] Why,
goodness alive! I've made a mistake, and
got a Republican ticket Now, I don't want
to lose my place on the line to get another.
Let me see yours."
The darkey unconsciously hands his over.
"Why, old man, you've made a mistake, too!
Yours is a Democratic ticket! Somebody
has played off on you; it's d?d mean to take
that advantage of a man who can't read. But
we can just swap tickets, can't we? That
makes it all right. Now we are both fixed."
He adroitly gives the darkey a Democratic
ticket of the same color, which he, not being
able to read, puts into the box, and goes home
thinking that he has discharged his duty to
the Republican party.
There were a few instances of impositions
of this sort?not many. .
JOLLY GOOD FEELING.
Toward 12 o'clock it became known that
the Democrats were gaining largely at each
box, and that it was owing to the colored peo- i
pie voting with them.
This put the whites in the best possible humor,
and dispelled all danger of a riot
When everything was progressing so satisfactorily
there was no use of a riot, and nobody
had any occasion to start one. There was
no necessity, as is sometimes done, to get up
a mock 6ght and frighten away the colored 1
people, for they were voting the Democratic
ticket so well that it was an advantage to
have them around.
What is the result ? To-night, in'Jackson,
the feeling between the races is better than it
has been in seven years. The Democrats
have carried the county and the State, and
are overflowing with praise for their "colored
friend9," who voted with them.
. LATER.
The night wears on. Every dispatch indicates
a Democratic gain in some unexpected
quarter. The whites are in ecstacies. The
night air is burdened with yells of delight,
but there is no pistol firingor disorderly conduct.
As yet, the Republicans cannot claim
a dozen counties in the State.
The Democrats have elected their whole
ticket, carried the Legislature by a large maioritv.
and gained at leat two Congressmen.
The Republican officials have acknowledged
that the party in Mississippi is done for.
Nothing short of the power of the Federal
Government can set it on its legs again.
H.V.R.
To Ease a Cough.?Oar readers have
probably noticed that when one or two persons
in an audience congh, there is a general
backing, heraing and coughing. This is due
to nervous sympathy, and, as it can be, should
t>e resisted: The best method, according to
the London Lancet, of easing a cough, is to
resist it with the force of will possible until
the amount of phlegm becomes so'great that
there is something to cough against, when it
will come up with comparatively little diffijulty.
A great deal of hacking, hemming
ind coughing in invalids ir purely nervous,
>r from the force of habit This is shown by
the frequency, when the thoughts are turned
to the difficulty, and the comparative rarity
when the attention is engaged in other direc*
ions.
Personal Influence.?We have the folowiog
illustration of personal influence and
jereonal devotion in the history of the Napollonic
campaign : When the allied army enered
France, a company of Polish soldiers
orming a party were engaged in the pillage
if private property. A gray-haired old man
emonstrated against their action, saying:
'When I was a soldier the rights and propery
of peaceful citizens were respected. The
'olish soldiers rudely demanded: "Who are
'ou that dares reprove us ?" The old man
inswered: "lam Kosciusko," Immediately
very cap was off, and on their knees they
legged the pardon and blessing of that conjuered
hero, whose misfortunes in the cause of
lis couptry, even more than his valor, were
mbalmed in every Polish heart.
Sleep for Children.?There is no dan;er
that children can sleep too much. The
Jd proverb, "who sleeps, eats," is illustrated
those little ones who sleep most. Wakeul
children are almost always peevish, irrifca>le
and lean. If they can be indnoed to sleep
bundantly, they are quite likely to become
;ood-natured and plump. Their sleep should
>e as much through the hours of darkness as
lossible, and therefore it is better that they
hould go to bed before sunset to have their
leep out, than to lie long after sunrise in the
Qorning. It is well to let anv healthful
;rowing child or young person sleep till he
rakeins himself, and then give him such vaiety
and amount of outdoor exercise as shall
aake him glad when bed-time comes again*
a % i.i *.> x j
Guano,?Recent scientific investigations
ppear to establish the faot that guano is not,
8 las hitherto beeo believod, the desposits of ^ . :j
lyriadsof sea-birds, accumulating through
ges; but is the result of an accumulation of
aesil plants and animals, whose organic matar
has been transformed into a nitrogeneona
ubstance. This view is substantiated by the
act that the anchors of ships in the neighborood
of the guano islands often bring up guno
from the bottom of the ocean.