Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. (tRist, Proprietor.j ^.n $nbejpbent Jfamilg ftetospper: jfor t|e promotion of tjie political, Social, ^gricnltnral anb Commercial Interests of % Sonfj;. |TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 21. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1875. . ^O- 48. jtot anginal j^tarn. ^ Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. W Sleepy Hollow. CHAPTER XVI. AN ENCOUNTER IN THE WOODS. Ellen went home, and her departure was a relief both to Arthur and to rae. Everything went on smoothly now for some time. I remembered the promise I had made, and tried faithfully to keep it. I took no farther notice of ray husband's regular absences from the house, and when he was at home made everything as cheerful and pleasant for him as I could. Under the influence of this change, his own spirits brightened; he threw off the gravity and melancholy which had hitherto not unfrequently possessed him, and appeared buoyant and happy in my - I t J J. J A society, wane ne strove to snow, oy auuea tenderness aiid indulgence, his appreciation of my efforts to comply with his wishes. In truth, but for the one drawback which ' existed to my perfect happiness, I would have i had not the slight reason to quarrel with my : fate. I was united to a man who possessed sterling nobility of character, and all the virtues which win reverence and esteem, and , who loved rati as fondly as I could desire. He was constantly devising new pleasures, new indulgencies, to gratify me, and left nothing undone which could contribute to my comfort! and contentment. My home was an Eden, | into which the "serpent's trail" indeed had j crept, but where it was rarely discovered amid ; the foliage and blossoms and fruits which ! were heaped around it with lavish hand. The news from home, too, had been lately | of a much more cheering character. My fa-1 titer, during a slight indisposition from which j he had suffered, had permitted aunt Mabel to j go and nurse him, and fiuding much satisfac- ! tion in her society, had requested her to re- i main permanently in his house. She had accordingly broken ud her own lonely estab lishment, disposing of such of her goods and chattels as she could not bring with her, and , renting her house to a friend ; and gladly ac-1 cepted her brother's invitation to pass the rest of her days as his companion, and the I supervisor of his domestic affairs. This piece j of intelligence lightened my heart of a load j which, in spite of my efforts, had often oppressed it, I was truly thankful to think that j my dear father had taken this step, which had always appeared to me such a desirable one, ! and it was the greatest comfort to know that my godmother, with her warm heart and cheerful, genial disposition, would create sun- | shine around him, and dispel, by her loving efforts, the morbid and unhealthy feelings in which he had indulged since I left him. He wrote to me sometimes, though not very frequently, for he was not fond of writing, leaving most of the correspondence to ray aunt. His letters were always affectionate and kind, though not as ardent as mine, which I dis- j patched to him regularly once a week. There was not very much intercourse be- [ tween the Holcombes aud ourselves; and more than a month had elapsed without my ; chancing to meet Stephen, when one evening, in the early part of April, as I was coming j home from a ramble in the woods quite near our place, Ieucountered him unexpectedly at i a turn in the road. "Alone, Mrs. Wardlaw?" he said, as he joined me. "That is unusual, is it not?" "It is quite unusual for me to walk alone," ; I rejoined, "but Dr. Wardlaw is writing some business letters, and I had a little headache and thought the air would refresh me." "You are pale," he remarked with a sym- j pathetic look. "You are not looking as bright and blooraiug as you did formerly. Excuse me for what may perhaps seem a somewhat intrusive remark, but do you know, I think, you are too much alone?too much shut up in that quiet home of yours." "You are quite mistaken," I replied, coldly. I "I am by no meaus solitary. You forget that' I am quite accustomed to being the only lady in the house." "Yes, but at home, you know?your former home, I mean?it was so different. There you had so many friends and companions within reach, whom you could see whenever you pleased ; while here, there is no one, ex-1 cept my wife?and you don't see a great deal j of her. I wish you would come ofteuer to Lilybauk." "Thank you, I come as often as it suits me," said I, still with extreme coldness. "I sometimes fear," he continued, after a j short silence, during which he walked at ray side, idly switching off the heads of the weeds and grass with a little cane he carried, "that. I am the cause of your visiting our house so seldom." "Why should you suppose so ?" I asked. "Because I am quite aware that I am unfortunate enough to lie under the ban of your ; displeasure?or dislike, shall I say? Yes, Mrs. Wardlaw, it is unhappily too plain that you do dislike me. I have long perceived this to be the case. What can I do to remove this feeling on your part ? I think your kind heart would relent, if you knew the pain you ' caused me." I was silent, feeling both angry and embar- i rassed. I was too truthful to assure him that he was mistaken in his supposition, yet I was unwilliug that auy fresh cause of offense! should be stirred up between us. "I see that I have spoken correctly," he continued, presently ; "you do not offer to contradict ray statement. But is it not unrea* | souable and unjust to cherish anger and re- 1 sentment so long for a past offense ?" "Mr. Holcoiube," I said, whjlst I felt my face flush in a provoking way, "I think it is in bad taste for you to make any allusion to the past. I am not now either angry or resentful, i and had no intention of appearing so. I sim- i ply desire to cancel all rememhrauce of our ' former intercourse." "But is that possible?" he rejoined, inja low tone. "Can you so utterly forget the events of a few brief months ago?" "It is certainly better, and more agreeable for you, that I should," I answered. "I can not understand why you should have choseu : tins topic or conversation ; you migni cerimuly find a more congenial one." "Ah ! Mrs. Wardlaw, I am a man of impulse and feeling; I cannot bind my heart, forever iu stern conventional chains. Perhaps it was imprudent in me to indulge my longing to meet you this afternoon, but it was too powerful for me to resist it." "It was premeditated, then !" I exclaimed, ( my surprise betraying me for the moment into ignoring the sentiment of this speech. "How i did you kuow I was earning out?" ''I did not know it beforehand, but I was , passing along the side of that hill when I saw you turn into this road. I debated within myself whether I should go on, or wait and put myself in your way when you were com-! ing back, and could not but decide upon the latter course." i "If you wished to see me," said I, "why did yon not come to our house? You have nev-: er, I believe, met with an uncourteous reception there." "Certainly not; but I wanted to meet you alone. Rosamond?Mrs. Wardlaw?forgive , me! I know I am wrong?I fear that I am only incurring your renewed displeasure?but I cannot conceal from you any longer the pangs which torture me! "Oh ! why did you ; . doom me to a life of unspeakable wretchedness? Why?" "Stop!" I cried, feeling as if every drop of | blood in my veins were turned into flame, while my eyes, I am sure, burned with coni centrated anger and scorn, "you forget to i whom you are speaking! If you utter anoth; er word in that strain my husband shall know ! of your unmanly and insolent behavior. Do not go with me a step farther." i I was moving off when he forcibly detained 1 me by catching my wrist, which he held firmi ly, though not roughly, in his clasp. | "Stay a moment," he exclaimed, "and lisi ten to me; I know my conduct appears un| warrantable, and I must justify it." "You cannot justity it," l saia. -Liei me j go this moment, if you call yourself a gentleman ! Have you no sense of honor?no respect for me or yourself?" "Don't speak to me of honor or self-respect! There are passions and emotions which must J find vent, or rend the soul which contains j 1 them into a thousand pieces. Mine have been j pent-up within iron walls, until they have | surged into an overwhelming flood, rising j above their barriers and sweeping down every j obstacle with resistless force! I must speak j now, if I die for it! You do not know me j yet?you do not know the fiery depths of ray i nature?you do not kuow the desperate hold j which one consuming passion has taken upon i ray heart, my soul and my mind; and that I passion is my love for you! Nothing can I eradicate it?nothing ! Your coldness and disdain, and the knowledge that all my long- j ings are vain, while they fill me with torture ! unspeakable, only make it burn with a fiercer and more unconquerable flame. You shrink,! you tremble I Rosamond, do not fear me?I | shall not hurt a hair of your head. But, oh ! j have a little pity on me. Speak one word of j kindness?one little word to give me a r&y of hope?just one!" He flung himself, still holdiug my hand, on the ground at my feet. His face, his voice, were like those of a maniac; his eyes blazed like coals of fire, and his whole frame quivered with intense excitement. All other emotions in my mind were now swallowed up in terror. In spite of his assurance that he would not hurt me, it seemed to me that he was just in a fit mood to kill me, and in this T nnnlrl nrvf Knno fur hpln luncijr piuv/o x uuuiu uuw iiu^/v . Though faint and sick with fear, I made one ; more effort to maintain my position. "Should Dr. Wardlaw hear of this," I said, | "you might answer for it with your life." "I care not," he replied. "If you still re- j ject my love, I am indifferent as to what be-1 comes of ray life in the future." "Good heavens," I cried, "do you utterly forget that we are both married ? Have you | lost your senses ?" "I believe I have," he replied. "But I for- i get nothing. What are the chains of mar- : riage compared with the uncontrollable impulse which draws one soul to another? My marriage is a mockery, a miserable farce, which I perpetrated chiefly in the^hope of its being the means of bringing me nearer to you." "But mine is not," I answered. "You seem entirely to lose sight of that fact." "You do not?cannot love that man?" j "He is more to me than all in the world j besides," I interrupted. "The best, the no- ' blest of men! And if I did not?if I were ! not married even?youkuow, full well, that I | should never reciprocate your advances. Mr. Holcombe, once for all, will you let rae go? This disgraceful scene has lasted quite long enough." Whether or not, he would have acceded to my demand, I cannot tell. But at that instant, a rustling in the bushes warned him of i something near, and he sprang to his feet. "Cruel woman," he muttered between his j teeth, "the hand of retribution will certainly I fall upon you some day, for dooming me to j misery like this! Those who make others j suffer must suffer themselves, and your hour ! of puuishraent may be nearer than you think." \ He turned, and walked rapidly away. As I he disappeared among the bushes, I sank up- , on a log that lay on the ground near me, try- j iug to collect my scattered self-possession, and , to still the agitated beating of my heart. It seemed to me an indubitable fact that Stephen Holcombe must be crazy, at least for the time being ; his looks and gestures denoted this to be the case, and I shuddered to think how entirely for a few moments, I had been at his <i/?r?nlnfolw iinotruitrr tcorn mV : I1ICI IJU VUUipiVbVlj uuovi Utig ?w? V ...J , nerves, that some time elapsed before I could j compose myself sufficiently to walk home. At j last I mustered strength for the effort, and, i with more than one fearful glance around, 1 I hastened as fast-as my feet would carry me in ; the direction of our gates. Never was haven of refuge more welcome to a traveler encom- i passed by dangers, than the sight of those I white gates to my anxious eyes. My husband was out when I reached the j house, and Barbara was busy in the store- | room, so that I had leisure for rest and refleo- ; tion before encountering observation. Upon consideration I judged it best to say nothing j of the alarm I had suffered. I did not wish ! to create a feud between Arthur and Stephen, j and determined, by avoiding all risk of encountering the latter again, to preclude the possibility of the recurrence of a similar scene, j Notwithstanding my efforts, the effects of j the excitement I had gone through were still visible in my face wheu I)r. Wardlaw came ; home. He commented on ray paleness and' nervous manner, and questioned me with so- j licitude concerning the cause. I confessed to ! feeling a little badly, and he gave me a sooth- j ing mixture and sent me early to bed, where I presently fell asleep to dream that a horrible homed monster was dragging me off in its claws, while I shrieked vainly to Arthur for help. As I struggled and writhed, it spread a pair of scaly wings and flew with me over an abyss; then still holding me aloft, it turned j into Stephen Holcombe, who hissed in my j ear, "Say that you love me, or I will rend yourjsoul into a thousand pieces." "Never!" j I cried valorously, and swift as lightning he hurled me into the chasm below ; but at the bottom stood Arthur, who received me safe and sound in his open arms. CHAPTER XVI. THE STORM BREAKS. About a week after my encounter with Ste pheu Ilolcombe, as I was one day sitting in my little up-stairs parlor engaged with a book my husband entered with an agitated face, j "Rosamond," he said hurriedly, "I have been suddenly summoned from home on a I matter of importance which requires imme- ! diate attention. I must go without delay, and j may possibly be detained for some time, so i that you must not feel anxious if I am not at home until late." "Nothing is wrong, I hope ?" I rejoined \ anxiously, as I rose from my seat. "Dear , rue, Arthur, how pale and excited you look !" j "I am a little hurried, dear; I cannot stay a moment, I only rati up to tell you before I started." He was leaving the room when I detaiued ! nii?. "Will you be back to dinner?" I asked. "I cannot say ; probably not. Indeed, I | may possibly be kept away all night, though 1 it is not likely." "All night! Oh! Arthur!" "I will come back as soou as ever I can," . he replied, and went quickly off. I felt trou- i bled and dissatisfied ; I could no longer fix j tny attention upon my book, which I had | found very entertaining a few moments be- i fore, but threw it down and walked restlessly ! about the room. At last I went down stairs : to Barbara, whom I found, to use her own expression, "in a stew." i "Eh! but I'm sorely fashed wi' all my wark I this morning, little madam. I've no wish to I be uncivil, but 'deed I've no time for talking ! uoo." ! "I shall not interrupt you," said I, offended, ; and turned abruptly away. It was an unusual thing for Barbara not to have time to | talk. Even in the midst of her most engrossing i occupations, her tongue generally exercised j itself as busily as her fingers, and I could not | aee that her present employment?that of i making pastry?was such as to take up her j entire attention. It was true, a roll of sum- j mer cloth, for the servauts' suits, was lying I | near, waiting to be cut out, and I had heard j her say, the day before, that she must do it | herself, as the tailoress was sick, but even this < accumulation of work would not, under ordinary circumstances, have incapacitated her for a little chat. "Something is the matter," said I, mentally, "and Barbara is nervous, lest I should ques- j tion her about it. She need not be afraid, j What my husband chooses to keep me in ig- j norance of, I shall not seek to find out from anybody else." In no pleasant frame of mind, I betook myself to my own room again; and there remained in solitude, until Ellen Holcorobe was announced. Of all persons in the world (excepting her husband) Ellen was the last whom I cared to see just then. However, there she was, and there was no help for it, so down to the parlor I went. 1 found her strangely quiet and suhduea. She scarcely answered my greeting, and looked at me with an expression of countenance that I could not fathom. "Something is the matter with her, too," I thought. "Is everybody bewitched, to-day ?" However, I exerted myself to entertain her, and did, at last, succeed in getting up something like a conversation between us. By and by, luncheou was announced, and I rose to lead the way to the dining-room. "I cannot stay to luncheon," she said, quickly. "I don't feel like eating anything to-day. Go and get yours, Rosamond, and then come out with me a little way. I have something to say to you." "What an idea, Nelly !" I rejoined. "Come and take something; don't you feel well/" "Not very?I have had headache since yesterday." "Then come up-stairs to my room and lie down. You will not he interrupted, for Dr. Wardlaw has gone out." "I know he has," she rejoined, with a peculiar look. "But I do not wish to lie down, j thank you. I cameout, thinking that exercise , would be good for me, and I wanted to see ( you, particularly, also." "In that case," said I, "I will go with you, ( whenever you wish it; for, to tell the truth, I am not hungry either." I "Don't hurry yourself on my account," she j replied. "You need not stand on ceremony < with vie, you know." I Her manner was so odd, though her words < were commonplace enough, that I could not | repressa feeling of uneasiness. I looked into ( the dining-room to tell James to clear away | the things off the table, as no one wished any ( lunch, and then ran to get my hat. In a few minutes more Ellen and I were walking to- ( gether along a little path that led from the { back gate to the woods. She walked rapidly, keeping a little ahead 1 of me, until we came to the very spot where her hu9baud had met me a few evenings be- . fore. Then she Bat down on the log which I ; . had chosen as my resting place after he left , me, and motioned me to a seat beside her. j "Now Rosamond," she commenced after a j minute's pause, "I have a secret to tell you. I am goiug home." j "Going home 1" I echoed, in surprise. "On j a visit, do you ineau?" ( "Ostensibly,yes; but in reality I am going , for good and all. I shall not come back here , again." ( "Is your husband tifed of farming already ?" j I questioned, more and more astonished. I "Not that I know of; but I am tired of the < place, and everything else. I shall leave him , here." I "Leave him here!" j "Yes. lain going to leave hira altogether, j "Nelly!" I cried, in amazement. "What do you mean?" | "I mean," she answered, speaking slowly, ( and looking in another direction, as if to avoid ( my gaze, "that he is not fit for me to live with j any more. Rosamond, his pretence of caring j for me was all a sham." I turned cold. Had she, then, discovered ] what I had resolved to keep secret? She went on in the same carefully suppress.. j * i : 1 ? ?, J 4.1.: en tone, Keeping uer eyes lixeu uu suiueiiuug ; far off, as she spoke. "I have suspected this for some time ; but ! it isouly quite recently that I have convinced J myself of the truth. I have not even spoken ; to him on the subject. I merely told him last,' evening that I wanted to go home to see mam- ! ma, and he gave ine leave to go. I shall not , ask his leave for anything again. If possible, j i I shall avoid seeing hiin again, when I am j | once away from here." ( "But Nelly 1" I faltered, "what do you | mean?what is it that you accuse him of?" "If you do not know," she answered, poiut- | edly, "there is no one who does." ' I was silent, and sat trembling. "This evening a week ago," she continued, | i I witnessed a scene, or a part of a scene, be- j tweeu you and him in this very place. Now 11 do you need any farther explanation?" j i "If you witnessed that scene," I cried, ea- n gerly, "you know, at all events, that I was i not to blame. I am in no way answerable for i his conduct, as you must be aware. On the i contrary, I would have given worlds to be ! < able to overcome this unlucky infatuation on | his part." ! i "I don't blame you," she answered, in the J < same unmoved tone. "I blame myself for my i miserable folly in ever trusting him." I "But oh! Nelly, can't all this trouble be rectified somehow, without your leaving him ?" i said I. "What will aunt Mabel say?" "I can't help what anybody says. I think ] I ought to consider my own feeling first." j "But everybody will know it, and talk about! lL", "They may talk, if they choose. The dis- . grace is not mine, but hfs." I was sileut. I felt it to be a dreadful state ; of things, and did not know what comment,* to make. j, Preseutly Ellen commenced again. 11 "You pity me, Rosamond, I dare say," she i i said, in a low tone. "You think me very un- J < fortunate, no doubt." ! < "Dear Nelly," I answered, taking her hand, s "how could I help thinking so?" I would I I not be human if I did not pity you." ! i "You had better reserve your pity for your- ! I self," she responded, Hashing one swift glance ' I at me, as she withdrew her hand. ! 1 "For myself?" I echoed, enquiringly. 11 "Yes, you will need it. It is not only of | my misfortune, Rosamond, that I came to j | speak to you this morning. You must pre- ' pare for worse news?to you?than that." ] "What do you meau?" I exclaimed, while an indefinable thrill of terror crept over me. j < "I mean that if I am unfortunate, you are j i equally so. I have made another discovery? j ] not about my affairs this time, but about yours." i I My heart seemed to rise to my throat and j < stifle me, and my pulses almost stood still, in 1 the extremity of ray fear, and I looked in j i dumb, piteous enquiry into her face. What i terrible revelation was coming ? Was The < Secret which had overshadowed me like a j nightmare, so long, about to be dragged from 11 its hiding place ? Was the skeleton found?" Ellen looked at me, and sudden compassion seemed to stir her heart. "Poor child," she said, laying her hand on mine. "We are doomed to be companions in misery, it appears. But you are less able to bear trouble than I am, I fear." "Ellen, do not torture me," I burst forth in an agony. "Tell me at once what you mean." She looked at me steadfastly again?hesi tated?then rising, bent over me and put her lips close to my ear? "If you will go to a house in the woods between this place and ours," she said, in a hurried whisper, "you xoill find out what I mean." The bouse is on the left hand road, in a lonely place, and it is kept by a woman who calls herself Mrs. Green." Without another word, she turned away and left me. I sat stupidly on the log, staring after her retreating figure. I had no power to call her back, to ask for any farther explanation. My brain was in a whirl. "The house in the woods?the house in the woods," I repeated, mechanically, to myself. "What shall I find if I go there?" [to be continued next week.] (ji' KJSjmWritten for the Yorkville Enquirer. HISTORICAL SKETCHES OK THE Early Settlement of South Carolina. BY BEV. ROBEBT LATHAN. (continued from last week.) The headquarters of General Oglethorpe wereatFredrica, atthe mouth of the Altamaba. Both, the Ashley river colony and that planted west of the Savannah, depended upon him for protection against Spanish invaders. Had they succeeded in assassinating him by the hands of one of his own regiment, it would have proved at least a temporary shock to both the English colonies, and infused spirit and energy into their common enemies. Failing in the scheme of murdering Oglethorpe, the authorities of St. Augustine, whose minds were accustomed to devise murderous plots, had recourse to another infamous intrigue, and even more dangerous. In the province of South Carolina there were, at this time, (1739) between forty and fifty thousand negro daves, whilst the whites were less ths.n one third that number. The negroes, many of them, had been but lately brought from Africa. The clima te agreed with them in a remarkable degree, and all of them were strong and capable of great physical endurance. It was with difficulty that in times of peace these slaves were kept in bondage, and almost impossible in times of war. The Spanish Sovernor had previously issued a proclamation of freedom to the negroes of Carolina. This proclamation was kept a profound secret by the whites; but iu spite of every precaution to keep it a secret, many of. the negroes bad learned the fact, and availed themselves | af the offer made by the Spaniards. Of those negroes who had fled from their masters in | Carolina, the Governor of Florida had formed i regiment. This regiment had officers from irnong themselves, and enjoyed all the privi leges ot the other Spanish troops, l ne staves Carolina were all aware of this fact, and Jiia-madeUiKitiauXeng for freedom. It was, ilso, a common practice for the Spanish authorities to send enlisting officers, clandestinely, into Carolina for the purpose of raising recruits from amongst the negro slaves. The Spanish proclamation of freedom to the slaves was made in November, 1733, and from that time to 1739, the people lived in a 2onstant dread of an insurrection. Negroes would take their masters' horses and boats ind make good their escape to Florida, where they were safe. From the dread of a negro insurrection and the liability to be attacked by scouting parties of Indians, the whites were accustomed to go armed at all times, jven to church. This was required of them by law. Several individuals lost their lives in attempting to prevent their slaves from flying to theSpaniards. In September, 1739, at Stono, less than Lwenty miles from Charles Town, a terrible insurrection took place. The prime iustigator of this bloody scene was a Catholic priest. A 3mall company of negrois, probably from the immediate neighborhood, first "murdered two young men in a warehouse and then plundered the house of guns and ammunition." Here they elected one of theiir number, bearing the uarne of Cato, their captain. A flag was hoisted, and with heating drums they proceeded to execute their barbarous plane. Iuflamed by rum, and flushed with the success which attended their first onset, they marked their path with fire and blood. Every negro in their march was forced to join them, and every white?whether it was man, woman or child?was butchered. The house of one Godfrey was entered, plundered and then burned, whilst he himself, with his wife and children, were killed. Then they proceeded to Jacksousburgh. On their march, they were met by Governor Bull, who escaped from them by leaving the road. It was on the Sabbath. The Presbyterian community of Wiltown, in large numbers, had turned out armed with their guns, to hear the Rev. Archibald Stobo J preach. The alarm soon reached the church, j and the women were left in the house of wor- j ship, whilst the men rushed at once to meet the insurrectionists. The militia of the conntry were soon in arms, and under the command of Captain Bee, set out in pursuit of the banditti. Their track was easily followed. It was marked by desolatiou. From the point where they started, they had marched about twelve miles. Not a house was left standing, and twenty-three whites had been ; murdered. When the militia came up with them, they had stopped in an open field and were singing and dancing merrily. Many of them were drunk. In this condition they were attacked from different points by the mi- j litia. Several were killed on the spot, among whom was Cato, the leader. The rest, who : were not too drunk, took to the woods. Some ! were caught and killed. Others ran back to their former masters, hoping thus to escape; but all, except those who had been forced to : join the party, were executed. Thus ended this horrible affair. Different rw\ n rt I noinn inau Kfl H ft) MM1 frfim it SoilIP may he led to lay the blame of the whole matter at the door of the fanatics of the Pope of Rome, whilst others may be ready to con-1 elude that it was but a legitimate result of I slavery. That Cato aud his followers were, j to some extent, incited to form themselves into a baud of insurrectionists by evil designed ad-: herents of the Church of Rome, there seems : to be no good reason to doubt. The authori- 1 ties at Savannah captured an individual whom ; they took to he a priest, and whom they suspected to have been employed to set on fo\ a general insurrection of the slaves in Carolina.1 The Governor of South Carolina was, by , letter, informed that such an individual had j been taken into custody ; tut we suppose, i (although it is not said so,) that the informa-1 tion was not received until the plot had been partly put into execution. At the time ofj which we are speaking, the government of Spain was violently opposed to the institution of slavery. Whenever a demand was made | for a slave that had fled from South Carolina j snd taken refuge in the Spanish colony of, Florida, the reply by the authorities of that colony was, that it was contrary to the principles of his Catholic Majesty, to hold any human being in bondage, and that rather than remand the runaway slaves to their masters, they would be paid for. Thin promise was 1 only fulfilled in exceptional cases. Runaway negroes were formed into companies by the Spanish, no doubi, for the purpose of annoying the English settlers in the coun| try, and with the hope that with the assistance | of these slaves, the English might be driven from the shores of Noith America, and that ! the whole country might be brought under j the sway of Spain. That this insurrection was a legitimate reI suit of the institution of slavery we will neith: er affirm nor deny ; bu , that the inhabitants of South Carolina were to blame for the existence of the institution in their midst wc dare not admit. The institution was, to a very great extent, forced upon the first settlers by the merchants of Europe and the northern colonies. As the institution has been abolished in the State forever, and is now, to all intents and purposes, a matter of history, it is fair that it be known how and when slavery was brought into the State. In August, 1620, a Dutch man-of-war landed tweuty negroes in Virginia and sold them. In 1671, fifty-one years afterwards, Sir John Yeamans brought a number of negroes from his plantations in Barbadoes to South Carolina Sir John Yeamans was the Bon of Robert Yeamans who lost his estate by his adherence to the interests of the ^ O*" T/vkr? niin rt/ ,n J n J T /,,Ofir?k W OOf Q Q uu uuuii ouv;uicu^u uvo^pu ?f vww mw i Governor of South Carolina. By the proprietors he was highly honored and was really appointed by them Governor of the province in 1665. This was five years before the settlement was made at Charles Town. The original proprietors of South Carolina were men of wealth and influence in England. Some of them, at least, were the dear friends of Charles the Second, the ruling sovereign at the time of the settlement of South Carolina. What they did was done, not only for their own interest, but with the approbation of the English government. That Sir John Yeamans brought his slaves from Barbadoes to South Carolina with the knowledge and approbation of the proprietors, and consequently of the English government, is absolutely certain. We may safely conclude that at first the institution of slavery did not meet with a hearty approval by all of the settlers. We have seen that the Highlanders from Scotland, who settled in Georgia, protested against the introduction of slavery into that colony; and since there were Scotch in South Carolina from an early period, we may infer that they held the same views on this subject with their countrymen in Georgia. We may conclude that slavery was not only I introduced into South Carolina, indirectly by the English government, but that the instituI tion was, by the direct acts of that government, perpetuated. All laws passed by the | colonial legislature had to be approved by the proprietors before they became of any perma neot force. JNot only so, but no law couja, by the terras of the charter, be passed which, in any sense, was at variance with the laws of ! England. Now, there were a multitude of J laws enacted respecting slaves. At a very early period, some of these laws were passed and approved by the original proprietors. Laws respecting the regulating of slaves continued up to the time of the Revolution of1776. Not one word was said, either during the proprietary government, or during the royal government, in opposition to the institution. | Not one effort was made to abolish it. Such is, briofly, tho history of the introduction of ! slavery into the State of South Carolina. Negroes were brought from Barbadoes, from Africa and from the other English colonies, by the merchants, and bartered for tar, pitch, lumber, pelfry, rice and the other commodities of the country. Vast multitudes were brought into the country, and they increased rapidly. After the first few years, the number of slaves was double the number of whites, and frequently, their number was three times that of the whites. Before dismissing this subject, we can not refrain from mentioning a strange notion which seems to have been somewhat prevalent amongst the early colonists. We refer to the question of the propriety of making an | effort to convert their slaves to Christianity. It may be possible that some persons will be slow to believe that a people who had come to the western world for the avowed purpose of disseminating the gospel amongst the sav age Indians would have hesitated for one raoI ruent with respect to the propriety of making an attempt to Christianize the no less savage I Africans. Here we may say that much that was proposed to be done toward Christianizing the Indians never was undertaken. The guilt* of killing Indians aud of enslaving them lies at I the door of all the English colonies except the I one planted by William Penn. The first salutation the wild savages of Massachusetts received from the Puritans was a "shower of bullets." The fact is, from the day that CoI lutnbus landed on Watling Island, Europeans commenced to treat the savages of the western world as wild beasts. Every nation of Europe had a hand in exterminating the Indians, and either directly or indirectly in kidj napping Africans and selling them into slaThe society for propagating the gospel, sent in 1702, the Rev. Samuel Thomas as a missionary to South Carolina. He was instructed "to attempt the conversion of the Yammasees." From attempting this work ; he was prevented by Governor Nathaniel Johnson. The reasons assigned for not attempting this work were political and selfish. The Yammasees once had been in alliance with the Spaniards, but had revolted from them and entered into an alliance with the English. The Spanish had endeavored to convert the Yammaaees to the Catholic religion, but they rejected it with scorn ; and because of the attempt to convert them they revolted from their Spanish friends. Nathaniel Johnson was of the opinion I hat any effort, on the part of the Carolinians, to Christianize these savages would likely result in making the Indians the foes of the colony. Rather than run the risk of sacrificing their friendship they were left undisturbed in their bar-1 barisra. Little effort was made to Christianize the : Africans, from the fact that it was thought j that it would be unlawful to hold them in ; bondage after their conversion. In other; words, many of the colonists had conscientious | scruples about holding a civilized and Chris- | tian man in bondage, whilst their scruples did j not exist with regard to enslaving a savage.; This was a common notion of the time. Act-1 iug upon this principle, the sovereigns of Eu- j rope bestowed the American continent upon I their frieuds. The Indians were killed or' driven awav from their homes, and their hunt-' ing grounds taken possession of without giving to them any compensation whatever. Might made right. The reasoning was short. "The Indians," said they, "are savages; we are Christians: therefore, this good land belongs to us, and we have a right to kill the savages." This was the logic used by every colony planted in America, except William Peon's Quaker colony of Pennsylvania. For two reasons, then, the first settlers of South Carolina made no special effort to convert their negro slaves to Christianity. The first was the one just mentioned, and the other was the ; notion that so soon as the negro slaves were i made Christians they would become rebellious. j It is a historical fact, well attested, that from ' a very early period the people lived in dread of insurrections amongst the slaves. As early as 1790, slaves were not allowed to leave their master's premises without a permit from the master, and slaves were forbidden to have in their possession any guns or even clube. Every master or mistress was required, by I law, to have the houses of their slaves I "searched once a month, for clubs, guns, swords and mischievous weapons." This shows the state of things, as they existed in 1790. The political economist and the theologian are left to draw the inferences; our business is simply to record the facts as they transpired. The early slave laws of South Carolina have been stigmatized as barbarous and cruel. We have no disposition to call this declaration into question. They are on record and speak for themselves ; but the origin of the laws should be taken into consideration. They were British, not American laws. About the same time that the legislature of South Caro| lina was, by the authority of the English Parliament, passing laws forbidding slaves to I have in their houses "clubs or guns," lest an insurrection miorht he successful in seCUrintf freedom to the slaves, Cotton Mather was i fulminating anathemas against witchcraft, and the descendants of the pious Puritans were hanging witches. There are many things in the colonial history of our country of which we ought not only to be ashamed, but for which we should be sorry. But after all, these things were British, rather than American in their origin and nature. [to be continued next week.] ???????? Miscellaneous grading. PARDON OF WALKER AND BLAKE. The State against Dublin J. Walker and Henry Blake.?Conspiracy to cheat and defraud. On the 26th of October last, this case was submitted to me on an application for the pardon of the defendants. I then reviewed the case fully and announced that I found myself "unable to reach the conclusion that the verdict was not warranted by the law and the facts." I further stated at that time that I saw nothing in the case as presented to me outside of the evidence in the trial which call_ i .1 : c eu ior me tjAeruioe ui cacuulivo ticmcuv/j, oacepting the request of the presiding judge and the jury that I should change the sentence of the court to imprisonment in the county jail, a request which I then granted. The case is now again presented to me by the presiding judge in an official communication, in which he informs me that upon legal grounds, which are duly set forth, he now recommends and earnestly asks that the defendants be pardoned. The facts adduced to support this recommendation are contained in affidavits of B. G. Yocora, county treasurer of Chester county, and F. B. Lloyd, county school commissioner for Chester county. The affidavit of B. G. Yocom states that during the month of December, 1874, the defendant, Walker, who had previously resigned his office as school commissioner, visited deponent's office with one S. McCluney, and stated to deponent that he (Walker) was going to sign a pay certificate for the said McCluney for services rendered as a teacher while he (Walker) was school commissioner; that upon deponent expressing his doubts as to Walker's legal authority to doso, Walker said he thought he had authority to do so, and that he bad been advised by his successor in office, F. B. Lloyd, snd that he would go again and consult Lloyd; that deponent mentioned these facts recently to Judge Mackey in a casual conversation ; that deponent now makes his oath to these facts in the interest of justice, upon being informed that they constitute legal grounds favorable to Walker. The affidavit of F. B. Lloyd states that, soon after the resignation of Walker, deponent had a conversation with him, in which deponent informed Walker that deponent could not issue certificates for services rendered prior to deponent's term of office, but that it was the duty of Walker to doso;that subsequently, upon taking legal advice, deponent did issue to the said S. McCluney, mentioned in the affidavit of B. G. Yocom, certificates for services rendered during Walker's term of office, and that other valid claims for services rendered during Walker's term of office are now outstanding, for which no certificates have ever been issued, owing to Walker's negligence ; that deponent was called as a witness on the trial of Walker to prove certain records of his office, but was not questioned as to this conversation with Walker by defendant's counsel; that he now makes this affidavit on being informed that the facts therein contained are material to the defense of Walker. His honor Judge Mackey, in presenting the case, at the present time, states that Walker's defense consisted in the claim that he signed the certificate named in the indictment, be\Tmkoal flint fKfl IIUVJLJg L11U ObatClliUUt Ul iuiwuaot v*??v vuw original certificate issued to him (Michael) in 1871 was lost, and for the further reason that the certificate, when presented to him, had been signed by the school trustees ; that he believed he had a right to issue certificates for services rendered while he was school commissioner. Judge Mackey then proceeds to say that the evidence as to the fact of Michael's teaching was conflicting, there being some testimony that he taught a short time in Gethsemane township ; that while he had no legal authority to issue the certificate in question, yet if he believed he had such authority, and that Michael was actually entitled to it, the criminal intent would be wanting; that upon evidence now furnished by the affidavits of B. G. Yocom and F. B. Lloyd, showing conclusively that Walker did openly claim the right to sign certificates after the expiration of his term of office, and that he was so advised by his successor, Lloyd, he is now convinced that Walker did believe that he had the authority to issue teacher's certificates after he had ceased to be school commissioner; that he has implicit confidence in the statements of Yocum and Lloyd, neither of whom can be suspected of being influenced by friendship for Walker. Judge Mackey then says : "The above stated facts, (in the affidavits of Yocum and Lloyd) would have been material evidence in Walker's favor on his trial, especially as I charged the jury that 'the mere fact of signing a teacher's pay certificate as school commissioner, after he had for a considerable time ceased to be school commissioner, was a badge of fraud, and imposed on the defendant the burden of proving, beyond a reasonable doubt that he acted in good faith in so signing.' "In my judgment," Judge Mackey continues, "if these facts had been disclosed on the trial, the jury would not have rendered a verdict of guilty, nor should I have regarded the whole evidence as warranting: such a verdict. I would, moat, certainly have ordered a new trial, of ray own motion, had I been informed of these facta before the sentence wag pronounced." The acting solicitor of the circuit, who prosecuted the case, says that upon reviewing the case in the light ofthe facts now presented, he recommends the pardon. Messrs. S. J. Couch, W. A. Walker and Charles 8. Brice, of the Chester bar, say : "In view of the affidavits of B. G. Yocom and F. B. Lloyd, which raise the reasonable presumption that Dublin Walker and Henry Blake signed the certificate which they were convicted for issuing under the belief that they had the authority to sign it, we respectfully solicit their pardon upon the legal grounds therein set forth." The case, as thus presented, has occasioned me much difficulty. There are circumstances which make a pardon at this time an act which I might wish to avoid; but here, as in cases where the embarrassment proceeds from . reluctance to refuse a pardon, I conclude that' official duty, in view of the official record sub* mitted to me, is my only safeguard. In refusing to grant a pardon on the occasion of my former review of this case, I stated that "the views of the judge who tries a case and pronounces sentence are entitled to the highest consideration, and have always received it at my hands." Hardly any case, probably no case, can arise under our laws in which the governor will feel warranted in refusing a pardon when officially informed by the judge who presided at the trial that if the facts now known had been known at the trial, he would have charged the jury that the evidence did not warrant a conviction, or that newly presented facts would have caused him to grant a new trial; at any time before sentence, if improperly or mistakenly convicted, these defendants are entitled to release. The highest evidence I can receive upon this question is the official advice and judgment of the presiding judge. The evidence contained in the affidavits now presented has less connection with the defendant Blake than with Walker, but I am not willing the one probably most guilty, if ai'ftiop on AMiiltv aKnnlH psfiftne Dunishment. VIHUVI M? V g\4l? WJ J wmwwsw j j w and the less guilty Buffer it, and I, therefore, grant a pardon to both defendants. D. H. CHAMBERLAIN, Governor. PROPOSALS FOR CARRYING THE MAILS. The postmaster-general advertises that proposals for carrying the mails in South Car* olina, from the 1st of July, 1876, to the 30th of June, 1880, will be received at the contract office, until the 3rd of February, 1876. Decisions to be announced on or before the 8th day of March, 1876. We make the following extracts from the advertisement: 14.130.?From Yorkville, by Hickory GrovSj Hopewell, Etta Jane, Smith's Ford, and Pine Grove to Limestone Springs, 40 miles and back, once a week. Leave Yorkville, Wednesday at 6 a. m.; arrive at Limestone Springs by 7 p. m.; leave Limestone Springs, Thursday at 6 a. m. ; arrive at Yorkville by 7 p. m. Bond required with bid, $400. 14.131.?From Yorkville, by Blairsville, Bullock Creek, Mount Tabor, Pinckneyville, Union, Cedar Bin-Land Cross Keys, to Cross Anchor, 53} miles and back, once a week. Leave Yorkville. Thursday at 7 a.m.; arrive at Cross Anchor next day by 12 m.; leave Cross Anchor, Friday at 2 p. m.; arrive at Yorkville next day by 6 p. m. Bond required with bid, $600. 14.132.?From Yorkville, by Bethany and Antioch, to Whitaker, 24 miles and back, once a week. Leave Yorkville, Thursday at 8 a. m.; arrive at Whitnirnr hv 4 n. m.: leave Whitaker. Friday at 8 a. m.; arnve at Yorkville by 4 p. m." Bond"required with bid, $300. 14.133.?From Yorkville, by New Centre, (n. o,) Crowder'a Creek, (N. C.) (n. o.,) and Pleasant Ridge, (n. o.,) to Gastonia, 23 miles and back, once a week. Leave Yorkville, Thursday at 8 a. m.; arrive at Gastonia by 5 p. m.; leave Gastonia, Friday at 6 a. m.; arrive at Yorkyille by 5 p. m. Bond required with bid. $300. 14.134.?From Yorkville, by Bethel and Zeno, to South Point, (N. C.,) 20 miles and back, once a week. Leave Yorkville, Friday at 0 a. m.; arrive [ at South Point by 12 m.; leave South Point, Friday at 1 p. m.; arrive at Yorkville by 7 p. m. Bond required with bid, $200. I 14,209.?From Yorkville, by Clay Hill, Ranalesburgh, (N. C.,) and Steel Creek, to Charlotte, 31 miles and back, once a week. Leave Yorkville, Thursday at 7 a. m.; arrive at Charlotte by 6 p. m.; leave Charlotte, Friday at 7 a. m.; arrive at Yorkville by 6 p. m. Bond required with bid, $400. 14,210.?From Yorkville, bv Clark's Fork, to Black's Station. 21 miles, and back, once a week. Leave Yorkville, Thursday at 0 a. m.; arrive at Black's Station by 12 m.; leave Black's Station, Thursday at 1 p. m.; arrive at Yorkville by 7 p. m. Bond required with bid, $200. 14,124.?From Rock Hill, by Wax haw, to Lancaster C. H., 25 miles and back, once a week. Leave Rock Hill, Thursday at-9 a. m.; arrive at Lancaster, C. H. by 5 p. m. { leave Lanoaster, C. H., Friday at 9 a. m.; arrive at Rock Hill by 5 p. m. Bondrequired with bid, $300. 14.127.?From Black stocks, Dy naziowoou, uj Rossville, 12 miles and back, once a week. Leave Black Stocks, Wednesday at 8 a. m.: arrive at Rossville by 12 m.; leave Rossville, Wednesday at 1 p. m.; arrive at Black Stocks by 5 p. m. Bond required with bid, $200. 14.128.?From Chester, C. H., by Baton Rouge, to Carmel Hill, 17 miles snd back, once a week. Leave Chester, C. H., Wednesday at 6 a. m.; arrive at Carmel Hill by 11 a. m.; leave Carmel Hill, Wednesday at 12 m.; arrive at Chester, C. H. by 6 p. m. Bond required with bid, $200. 14.129.?From Chester, C. H., by Lewisville, Rich Hill Cross Roads, and Cedar Shoals, to Landsford, 22 miles and back, once a week. Leave Chester, C. H., Friday at 7 a. m.; arrive at Landsford by 12m.; leave Landsford, Friday at 1 p. m.; arrive at Chester, C. H. by 6 p. m, Bond required with bid, $300. 14,122.?From Lancaster, C. H.; by Craigsville, Cureton's Store, Belair, and Pleasant Valley, to Pineville, (N. C.,) 29 miles and back, once a week. Leave Lancaster, C. H., Thursday at 8 a. m.; arrive at Pineville by 4 p. m.; leave Pineville, Friday at 8 a. m.; arrive at Lancaster, C. H. by 4 p. m. Bond required with bid, $300. Hard Times.?Yes, these are hard times; and times were hard last year, and the year before, and the year before that, and before the panic, and even before the war, when we "all had so many niggers." There never was a time when the mass of men did not nave to struggle for a living; never a time when it was easy to make money, easy to save it, and easy to have a big balance of net profit at the end of the year. Money-making, except with dishonest persons or unscrupulous speculators, is a slow process; not only slow, but it is laborious and beset with difficulties innumerable. Under favorable circumstances, it generally takes a life-time to accumulate a fortune. There is no necessity, then, for so much gloom and despondency on account of "hard times." There are many failures at the present time, and there were always many failures, even in the best days of the country. On the other hand, there are successes now in business, as there have always been successes. The bold, prudent, industrious man has ten chances to one in favor of success. When men fail, it is generally for the lack of one or more of these qualities. A prosperous community is one made up of prosperous individuals. The rule for individual prosperity musTBe given in four words: "Live withfti your income." To those who are disheartened at the past and oppressed with gloomy forebodings, we would say: Make a close calculation of your probable income for the next year?allowing a broad margin for losses and mishaps?and then determine that your expenses shall not exceed it. Carry out this determination, labor heartily six 'days in the week, rest and worship God on the seventh, live iD love and charity with your neighbors, trust i a merciful overruling Providence, and you will never oome to want. If we die to-day the sun will shine as brightly and the birds will sing as sweetly tomorrow. Business will not be suspended a moment, and the great mass will bestow but a thought upon our memories. He's dead ? will be the solemn inquiry of a few days, as they pass to their work. No one will miss us except our immediate connections, and in a short time they,too, will forget us, and laugh as merrily as when we sat beside them. Thus shall we all, now in life, pass away. Our children follow closely behind us, and they will soon be gone. In a few years not a human being can say, "I remember him." We lived in another age and did business with those who slumber in the tomb. This is life. How rapidly it passes 1 tQf A man who cheats in short measure is a measureless rogue. If in whisky, then he is a rogue in spirit. If by falsifying his accounts, then he is an unaccountable rogue. If he gives a bad title to land, then he is a rogue indeed. If he gives short measure in wheat, then he is a rogue in grain. 16?" The longest drouth that ever occurred in America was in the summer of 1792, when no rain fell from the first of May to the first -of September, making a dry season of one hundred and twenty-three days.