University of South Carolina Libraries
? | ?-- - ? ? ?? ? ?? ? j ~ ?" _ "\ ~~~ - ^ ^ ^ lewis m. gkist, Proprietor, ^ii $nirtptnbraf Jfamilg ftttospptr: Jfor % llromotion of t|e political, Social, ^griraltnral anb Commmial |ntesls of tjjt 5?oa% TERMS?$3.00 A TEAR. IN ADVANCE. VOL. 22: YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JAJSTTJARY SO, 1876. NO. 3. I ? .. ?.? .... m-j? ti* jl? ?tigin?l itorg. :M?Ci?i*AT A THRILLING STORY OF WESTERN LIFE. BY MRS. HENRY DEA8, CHAPTER VI. "Sefiora," said Picciola, entering Esther's room, where she lay prostrate on her bed, feeling almost too weak and hopeless for any exertion, about two days after the above conversation, "the Sehor Alasquez is below, and desires to see yon." "Alasquez!" cried Esther, rising to her feet "Perhaps he brings tidings. Did he tell you anything. ask yon anything of my husband ?" "He' asked if the Seflor was at home, and seemed surprised when I told him he had not ?? JCl Vk?UI UCUt The flicker of hope which had sprang up in Esther's heart, died out. "He knows nothing, then," she said, mournfully. "Why should I see hit*?" "Sefiora, he may give you some information?he may help you to find out," said Picciola, eagerly. "Do not refuse to see biro." "But I do not trust him," muttered Esther, half below her breath, as she paused, irresolute. "What if he misleads me ?" "Sefiora, it is your only chance of help.", "That is true?yet what a chance I Picciola, do you remain up here. If I want you I will call for you." With a mixture of anxiety and reluctance, a lurking horror of the visitor which she could not subdue, yet a half-formed hope that he might give her aid, she Blowly went down stairs. Alasquez came forward to meet her, an expression of deep concern upon his face. "Sefiora," he said, extending his hand,which she barely touched with her own, "I am astonished at the news which I have just heard. Is it possible that your husband has not returned since the visit we made together V' Esther bent her head affirmatively. For the moment she could not reply. "Amazing I" said tbq Spaniard. "He left General K?'s house when I did, intending to come directly home." Esther grew whifo to the lips. "He was not detained, then ?" she managed to articulate. "No?we started early the morning after we left here, and be should have arrived here before noon. I traveled but a mile or two with him, having to turn off into a different road?" " "Where was that ?" she interrupted in a husky tone. "Where did I leave him ? As I told you just now, a few. miles this side of the General's temporary residence." "Was it a dangerous road that he had to come." "By no means?in the day time. All unfrequented roads are dangerous at night." .."You said the General's temporary residence. Is he not living there?where you went to see him ?" "No, hie was to leave the next day?the day following the one on which we left him." "lie may be still there. My husband may have returned to his house. Senor Alasquez, *riil fQU ha mijr jnirlp thpi-p?" ? She spoke with a sudden, desperate resolution to confide in this man?to stake her last hopes on the one chance of his helping jier in this emergency. A singular expression crossed his face for an instant. He looked ?... down, as if deliberating ; then raising his eyes, answered in rather a hurried manner? "It would be useless, quite useless, Sefiora. The journey would only prove a fruitless one, and it ig quite too much for your strength. You may command me, however, as your messenger. /I will make every inquiry, use every effort to obtain the information you desire/' , . "As far as my strength is concerned, I could stand the journey," replied Esther. "And if there, is any chance of finding my husband at the end of it, I will undertake it without hesitation." "But there is no chance, Senora, believe me. General K?, I am as positive as I can be of auything, would not have remained as long as this in the locality of which I speak. He was called by most important business elsewhere." "But some message may have been left. Is there no one there who could give you any information ?" "It is a rude mining settlement up in the mountains, peopled by rough, ignorant workmen?men with whom you could not come in contact, and of whom I could hope to learn but little. But if it will be any satisfaction to you, Sefiora, I will seek them out to-day? at once, and bring you what tidings I can obtain." Esther could not but accept the offer. It seemed like clutching at a straw; but still it re-kindled a spark of hope. "Since I cannot go myself, it must be so," she faltered. "Sefior Alasquez, I am forced to rely upon you? there is no other human being to whom I look for help!" "You may rely upon me, dear lady. I will j help you to the utmost of my ability; and if I fail, you must impute my failure not to any lack of endeavor on my part. I will set off immediately, and will be back for the latest, by noon to-morrow." He did not offer her his hand again ; but with a hurried bow left the room. Esther stood motionless, in an attitude of the deepest dejection, her hands listlessly drooping at her side, and a fixed, hopeless expression on her pallid face; for the more earnestly she con- j sidered the matter, the more slender appeared i to her the ehance of his meeting with any success in his expedition. And then, again, the old mistrust, which she had, as it were, temporarily forced down, crept back gradually into her heart. Though compelled to accept this man's offer of help, as a matter of absolute necessity in her sore distress, she could not place her faith in him. A voice seemed whispering to her, "he may be deceiving you. Even now, his very pretence of serving you may be only a blind. How can you be sure that your husband has not suffered through some treachery of his?" ! "Oh ! for a friend," she moaned aloud. "A friend in whom I could confide, to whom I could turn for help! But I am alone, all alone 1 Was ever an unfortunate being in so dreadful,a situation before! Oh I Paul, if you had but yielded to my wish, and never left home I Then all this misery would have been spared." A violent burst of tears came to her relief, and throwing herself on a sofa, she yielded, unreservedly, to the paroxysm which for a short time completely over-mastered her, until, from sheer enhaustion, her convulsive weeping ceased, and a sort of stupor, that was half sleep, succeeded to it. In this state she lay for some time, not striving or caring to move; but the rest did her some good, and when, after an hour or two, she arose, and languidly turned her attention to some trifling household task, she felt better and more composed than before. Since it was impossible to direct her thoughts to any other subject than the" all-engrossing one which occupied them, she tried, by a steady contemplation of the situation in which she was placed, to realize it to the utmost and to prepare herself to endure the heaviest sorrow which might be in store for her. Should Raymond not return, how was she to act? She could not bear to think of deserting the home to which, as long as any chance remain ed of his being alive* there would still be a hope of his returning. And yet, she dreaded t to think of remaining there with only the do- e mestics for her protectors. In the wild and 8 unsettled state of the country around, how c could she tell to what dangers she might, in r such, a lonely situation, be exposed ? While a under her husband's guardianship, she had a been troubled with no fears. But without a him. the case would be verv different. But. Ob! the bitter anguish of thinking he would \ not return I She tried to banish the thought; c it seemed too terrible for her to endure. On the morrow, AJasquez returned with I fatal news?be had been entirely unsuccessful a in his expedition! No sign or trace had he " discovered of the missing man, though he had f carefully prosecuted his eriquiries in every quarter where there was the remotest chance d of his obtaining any clue to his disappearan ?e. fa "Then" said Esther, with the calmness of t despair, "I shall see him no more?he is lost fa to me for ever!" t: The words, which sounded a death-knell to c her own hope, had scarcely escaped her lips, when a sickening faintness seized her; a cold s< chill ran through her veins; the room swam before her darkened eyes, and. total uncon- r ciousness came to her relief. n Long hours of oblivion, in which the outer world was as completely shut out from her mental perception as though it d d not exist, si followed this swoon. The sun hid set and h risen apain. ere she once more opened her | e eyes upon surrounding objects; and wwn she did, it was some time before she could fully p comprehend what bad happened. She lay in her chamber, into which the light was but par- t< tially admitted through the closed blinds, a Picciola s&t near her pillow, noiselessly mov- e ing a fan to and fro; and an old Indian woman hovered about, apparently engaged in si putting some things on the table to rights. But while she looked and wondered, with a I half-stirred consciousness of something new 0 and strange in the existence to which she had ti awakened, a faint, weak cry saluted her ear? e a cry that thrilled through every fibre of her e frame, and startled her into a sudden, keen perception of one vivid reality, unknown to n her before. "Oh! bring it to me," she cried, in tremu- n lous, eager tones. And the old squaw, bust- 8( ling up to a huge wicker-basket, that stood c, near the fire-place, lifted from its pillowed f depths her baby-boy, and fetching him to the tl bed-side, laid him in her arms. b This event, happening at a time when Estber's nerves were so highly wrought as to be in danger of failing, utterly, through their \ unwonted tension, saved her, probably from I lapsing into a state scarcely short of insanity, h and, by diverting her thoughts into a new p channel, served to restore, in some measure, 0 the shattered faculties of mind and body to a more healthy condition. The tender, sacred h mother-love, just sprung into being, warmed h kai. Ko 1 f_kt?r\ton Kflavb nnrl tin- A QUU IC*I? 1UCU UVI Umruivavu uwmv) mmv ?... R died within her a fresh interest in life. This child, which she received as a gift from Heav- y en, brought with it a consolation which noth- g ing else could impart.. And as she caressed jj it, or hung over it while it slept, with a yearning love no words could express, the tears that would fall upon its little unconscious face 0 were not those of unmixed sadness; but the \ memories which called them forth were blend- h cd with a feeling of deep thankfulness, and a prnmiBP nf hnpp in tho fntlirPi. pent.rpd in the tiny being which had taken so firm a bold u upon her heart. tj She rose up in due time and went about in r her changed household ; subdued and sorrow- ^ ful indeed, yet bearing her trouble with a pa- *| tient resolution to endure, and an earnest en- g| deavor to neglect no duty which presented it- a self to her to be fulfilled. Thus several weeks ^ pasped by, without any new event of importance occurring, or any tidings arriving, to ^ break the monotony of this quiet Jife. .Little Paul?for so she called the child?grew and ^ throve like a valley blossom. But his mother's beautiful face was pale and wan, and her once beaming sraih was seldom seen, or when " it was called forth, by some innocent baby- ^ wile, gleamed with but a faint reflection of its former brightness, like a moon-beam shining j through a veil of mist. ^ i< CHAPTER VII. , n We will now leave, for a time, the persona- . gee who have hitherto occupied our attention, 16 and transport ourselves to a very different e scene from the one which we have jost quit- 0 ted?the walls of a Spanish prison. P Figure to yourselves, outwardly, a large, " imposing square granite building, formerly a sj monastery, walled in with something like for- ' tifications, but with the gates, curiously " enough, set wide open, as if to afford free ad- c< mission to all who might desire an entrance r< through them. This was the asylum for criminals, civil and military, in the town of Val- u ladolid. At these open gates, on a certain day in the early part of summer, a noble- ^ looking, white-haired gentleman, in the un- a dress uniform of a general in the United States t' army, mounted on a handsome iron-grey horse, y presented himself, and was immediately salu- h ted wMi an air of profound respect by an official who hastened to meet him. n "Well, Diaz," said the American officer in a friendly tone, and in the Spanish tongue, h "Here I am again, you see I I have come to make my usual visit. Can I be admitted at tl once ?" "Doubtless, doubtless, General 1 Will you d be good enough to alight, and I will send a f' message up to the Seiior Gonzales, without J delay." y "How has his health been lately ?" inquired P the General, as having dismounted from bis h horse, he followed his guide across the stone- Cl paved yard to one of the offices on the lower 9 floor. i1 "Passable, only. But he seems tranquil enough in mind, though a little melancholy Cl at times, I am told." & "A little melancholy I Heavens and earth! P It is enough to make a man melancholy-mad, D I should think, to have been shut up in a C1 place like this for fifteen years. A living 11 death 1" was the energetic reply. s> "As to that, General, the treatment here is I very mild?milder than in any similar insti- ai tution in your country," rejoined the Span- tl iard. "The prisoners have no cause to com- r< plain." d "Except as being prisoners, my friend," re- h turned the visitor with a grim smile. "That is sufficient cause of complaint, is it not?" " The official shrugged his shoulders. v "What would you have ?" said he, in a per- y suasive tone. "Those who dislike the life ei here, should avoid entering it?that is all." w At this moment, the messenger, who had ti been despatched with a notice of the general's arrival, returned with the request that the r? latter would, at once, ascend to the apartment " of the Sefior Gonzales, who would be happy a to welcome him. w With the air of a person long familiar with li the place, the general at once arose from the b bench upon which he had seated himself, and fi proceeded to make his way, without a guide, fi to the room in question. This was a small t< chamber on the second floor, at the end of the p corridor, where a warden was slowly pacing to g and fro?apparently having become weary of a book witn which he had been recreating u himself^and which he had left open on a bench h where he had been sitting. This man saluted t the visitor with as much deference as the oth- p era bad done, and immediately advancing to- t ward the door of the farthest room, which was h locked, turned the key, and pushing it open, t invited him to enter. t ?7 a table near the single grated window, hrough which the day-light was permitted to nter, sat a pale, studious-looking man of ibont forty-five, with a noble and thoughtful :ountenance, on which long years of confinenent had left their unmistakable traces. He .rose instantly as the general entered, and with i joyful expression and outstretched hands, advanced quickly to meet him. "My dear, good friend!" he exclaimed in a 'oice of emotion, "here again so soon! How an I thank you for coming?" "As far as my own inclination is concerned. ' could not come too often," was the reply, is the visitor cordially pressed his hands, 'How1 goes it now, Manuel ? How have you ared lately?" "Much as usual, dear friend! I am guarled as carefully as ever?though, Heaven :nows, I have long ceased to cherish any hought of attempting ad escape. I have, iowever, nothing special to murmur at. My reatment is not rigorous, as you know?exept that I am allowed to see so few persons." "You still have your books and papers, I ee," said the other, glancing at the table. "Oh! yes, I have reading enough, though estricted as to the quality of it. And 1 nod iy pen a source of great interest." "Do you write as much as ever ?" "Even more. I have a formidable manutsript on the shelf yonder, which you may . ave the pleasure of reading some day, if it is ver completed 1" "When you are at liberty, you can have it ublished for the benefit of your friends." "And if that day never arrives, 1 must trust > the kindess of my friends to publish it for le, after my release, either by death, or othrwise." "Otherwise, of course?that is just what I aid." "But'with a different meaning, my friend. )o you know, that I often think this imprisnment of mine may have a summary and fail termination before very long ? At all vents, I try to prepare myself for such an ventl" "Manuel, you are gloomy to-day. You have o new cause for any such apprehension." "It is one which will sometimes occur to me, evertheless. And to speak truly, my friend, ) weary am I of my existence here, that I ould welcome freedom in almost any shape, lowever, I will not make your visit duller ban need be, by the expression of such Iugurious sentiments. How goes it in the outer rorld at present' Have you any news?" "Regarding your affairs, do you mean? Willi T moo oo rooll toll vnn?thrmcrh at first T?", * >. J o did not intend doing so?that your friends ave prepared another petition, which will be resented to the Queen on the first favorable ccasion." "Useless trouble," said Gonzales, shaking is head. "With her present counsellors near er, it is not likely that she will give it any ttention." "It is worth the effort, at all events. Do ou know, Manuel, notwithstanding your loomy ideas, I have felt more hopeful lately 3an usual ?' "With small cause, I imagine." "I feel that, in some way or other, the proof f your innocence must be brought to light. Vith the ceaseless efforts which are being made 1 your behalf, it cannot be otherwise." "You have ever been sanguine, general," ? ) ?tri?Hitherto your hopes have met with no fruion. I, enclosed within the narrow bounday of these four walls, must needs be pardoned >r looking on the shady side of things, seeing jat I am shut out from all glimpse of the jn !" His faint little attempt at a jest was lmost sadder than bis more despondent tone ad been. "Fortunately, we know that* there is a rigbter side," cheerfully replied the general, rho seemed resolved not to yield to the other's owncast mood. "So your idea is not a bad ne. The sunshine is there, though at present ou cannot see it." "When did you arrive in Spain ?" asked lanuel, after a short Bilence. "Ten days ago. I stopped at the house of )on Hernando, having a special wish to see im, and obtain his advio^or rather his opin>n, in a certain matter." "The good old man ! How is his infirmity ow? Is he still confined to his bed ?" "Not to his bed, but to his chamber. He i, however, as cheery and light-hearted as ver, and with his usual hospitality, insisted n my remaining his guest for a much longer eriod than I had, by any means, intended oing. I am the bearer to you of his very pecial regards, and his assurance that, allough restrained, by his infirm condition, om seeking you at present, his thoughts are ontinually with you, and his prayers for your slease ascend daily to Heaven." ?t * ? ,? m?n 1 ttlll UJUSb giaiCiUi tu miu, icpuuu xuau* el in a moved toDe, "and to all the good iends who feel so deep an interest in my welire. The thought that I am not forgotten is great consolation to me in ray solitude. At le same time, I would not that any one of ou should suffer the consideration of my aflirs to usurp more important subjects of atmtion. They are scarcely worth it. What I lean is, that there is but little chance of your Sorts bringing about a happy result. Did I elieve that there was hope, I should notprejnd to discourage your labors in my behalf; iat would be hypocrisy indeed." "Luckily, your convictions have nothing to o with the real state of the case," said his iend. "I am not surprised that you should ield to discouragement at times. Situated as ou are, it would be rather a matter of surrise that you should continue always hopeil. I would to Heaven, at any rate, that I Duld obtain your transfer to less confined uarters?you have barely room to turn round j here." "Oh ! the room does very well?I have beDrae accustomed to the size of it now. I have, t all events, the advantage of privacy. I ity the poor wretches who are cooped up in umbers together, as some of the common riminals are. And I am allowed to stretch ly limbs twice a weeks as you know, in the -uall yard below my window. On the whole, can't find fault with my treatment. As far 3 the body goes, it fares well enough?it is le mind which suffers! Yes, it suffers," he jpeated in a lower tone, and in an accent of eep despondency, as his forehead sank upon is hands. The General regarded him anxiously. You are not well, Manuel," he said in a oice of concern. "It is that which affects our spirits to day. I noticed, when I first Qtered, that you looked thinner and more orn than at our last interview. Tell me, ruly ; do you suffer from no illness?" "Nothing tangible?nothing to speak of," eplied Manuel, still without looking up. My ailment, if there be a,ny, is not one which ny physician could cure. 'Tis a gradual resting of strength?a slow absorption of viility into the stagnant atmosphere which I reathe. My blood runs more sluggishly rom day to-day. I feel a lassitude, an indifjrence to surrounding objects, which plainly ells me that my faculties, both mental and hysical, are decaying by slow but sure deTees. "Nay, Manuel! Your mind iB as clear, as inirapaired as ever! But your frame needs racing. You should take some tonic?soraehing to re-animate and support you. I will rocure one for you this very day. Meanime, eudeavor to turn your thoughts to more lopeful subjects. Look forward, as I do, to he approach of the time that will witness your riumph over the malignant slander of your enemies, and thoroughly establish your innocence before the worla." "And run the risk of double, treble, tenfold disappointment 1' Don't you see, General, that my wisest policy consists in anticipating the worst. Why raise my hopes, only to have tbem dashed, with violenoe, to the ground ?" The General started forward; an eager expression lit up his face, and he appeared on the eve of uttering some convincing remarks ; but abruptly restraining himself, though with evident difficulty, he turned aside, and drummed impatiently with his fingers upon the table instead. "Well?well," he said presently, rising from his seat," I see 'tis of no use to talk to you to-day! I shall come again to-morrow, however; and remember, I expect to find you in a less obstinate and contradictory frame of mind than you have exhibited this morning 1 I would not leave you now, but that I have on onnnintmant. at twelve, and it wants but a few minutes of that hour. To-morrow I will make a longer visit" "Thanks?many thanks," said Manuel, fervently grasping his hand. "I am deeply sensible of yonr goodness, believe me; though I seem ill to repay it by my ungracious entertainment of you. How long do you contemplate remaining in Valladolid ?" "My stay depends upon circumstances. Probably, however, I shall be here a week or so. My leave of absence expires in July." "Are things tranquil where you come from ? " "Tolerably. There have been no recent difficulties with the Indians, and, when I left, none seemed imminent I am fortunate in having the goodwill of a large number of them. They come to the White Chief freely in trouble, and guide themselves by my advice. And now, Manuel, is there any comfort or privilege which I can by any means obtain for you ? If so, tell me, and you know I will spare no pains in procuring it" "Nothing?I really desire," answered the prisoner.. "As I said before, I must consider myself fortunate in many ways. Do not linger now, General, or you will be late for your appointment. I shall live in the hope of seeing you again to-morrow, and it will make my repose to-night the sweeter." "Good-bye, then. I will see you early?say at ten o'clock." "Adioa," said the Spaniard, with a farewell pressure of the kind hand he held, and the two friends parted; the General to seek another quarter of the town, where lived a person of influence with whom he had arranged a meeting?the prisoner to return to his writing, in which occupation he had been engaged before the arrival of his visitor. Mounting his horse, the American officer rode rapidly off, and ten minutes brought him to his destination. Alighting at the door of a handsome private residence, he knocked and was speedily admitted. A tall and dignified individual, richly attired, in whose lofty bearing and aristocratic features there lingered more of the ancient grandeur of his race than is apparent now in the degenerated scions of its nobility, was occupied with some papers in a sort of library, or reading-room, into which he was shown. This gentleman immediately rose, and advanced somewhat ceremoniously, though with courtesy, to meet him. "General, yoq are welcome," he said in English : a language whicfr he snoke corrftrf.lv and gracefully, tbougb with a strong native accent, as he drew forward an easy chair, and motioned to his guest to sit down. "You are, I presume, just from the prison. Have you seen our friend ?" "I have; and I am concerned to tell you, that I find him looking very badly, and in a very unhealthy frame of mind," replied the General, taking the proffered seat. "Is that so ? Iregret to hear it. But what can you expect, General 1 1 am only astonished that he should have held out as he has done, all these years. I myself would have succumbed, hopelessly, long since, to the pressure of circumstances." "Hope has animated him hitherto," rejoined the General. "But it seems to have failed him now. I cannot doubt that his innocence will eventually be proved ; but I am oppressed by the fear that he will not live to see it His frail frame will be worn out by long suffering ere that day arrives, unless it come speedily; which may Heaven grant." "Is he, then, looking so ill ? "I perceive a melancholy change in him since I saw him last. His eyes are sunken, he has become much thinner, and his movements are more feeble. But, roost of all, I am troubled by his manner, which is alternately nervous and eager, and drooping and despondent ; such a contrast to his usual calm, cheerful, self-collected bearing." "Have you had recent advices from Costado?" "Within a month. He writes hopefully, and believes that our scheme will prove successful. I was on-the point of revealing to Gonzales to-day the plan of our new enterprise. He seemed so discouraged, I was anxious to cheer him with all the good news I could impart; but I thought better of it and refrained." "Yes,you are right; it would be a pity to create a delusive hope." "A delusive hope!" echoed the General. "Do you, then, despair of success ?" "Not precisely ; but I am scarcely as sanguine as you are, my good friend. There are many difficulties to be encountered." "We have already met and overcome some of them?some that appeared most formidable. Well, I, for one, shall never relinquish my efforts, nor abandon hope, until it has been proved that they are in vain." "Neither shall I, I assure you. But I have Borne papers here relative to this affair, which have lately come to hand. Will you look over them with me ?" He unlocked aD escritoire as be spoke, and took from thence a small packet, carefully tied and labeled, which he opened and laid upon the table. The General drew his chair forward, and the two gentlemen were soon deeply occupied in perusing the documents and in discussing, in grave and earnest tones, the news they contained, all bearing more or less directly upon the subject which occupied bo prominent a place in their thoughts?the circumstances and prospects of Manuel Gonzales, the political prisoner who, for alleged treason, had been for so many years shut out from communication with the world in general ; but whose guilt or innocence yet wanted convincing proof to be made clear, and whose fate was still enveloped in uncertainty. [To be Continued.] ? * What it Costs to Raise Cotton.?Col. C. W. Howard, of Bartow county, Ga., has collected some valuable information on the cost of raising cotton. The first letter expresses the opinion that the planter cannot ofTnrd in roioo mtinn at 124 cents t>er DOUnd. UtiVA M lV ww.?? ^ IT ^ ? unless there is a material alteration in the present system of farming. The second letter says: "My farm is light, sandy loam, and with a hundred and eighty to two hundred pounds of phosphate, will average two hundred pounds of lint cotton. The cheapest cotton I ever made cost 91 cents, and the highest 12 cents. I think the average about 10 3-.10. In the estimate I charge nothing for personal services." Other opinions are as follows: One planter says, "I give you the cost for seven years: 1866, 14.50; 1867, 12.50; 1868, 12.25; 1869,16.90 ; 1870, 8.60 ; 1871, 13.61; 1872, 10.27. The average is 11.80. This includes interest on land, repairs, interest on teams, taxes, fertilizers, labor of picking and packing, but nothing additional for supervision." pstorg of feolitta. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE Early Settlement of South Carolina. BY BEY. BOBEBT LATHAH. 0 (Continued.) In the year 1743. James Glen succeeded William Bull as Governor of the English colony of South Carolina. Glen continued in office for a period of thirteen years, or to the year 1756. During the administration of Glen, the whole middle and up-country, with the exception of a few remote sections, was at ? n ..a i rr\ _ i _ / least partially setuea. x wo classes 01 persons first pushed their way into the regions remote from Charles Town. These were traders and wild adventurers. Of the latter class, there is evidence that some individuals, at a very early period, abandoned the comforts of civilization, and took up their abode with the wild savages of the New World. It is difficult to say by what spirit these adventurers were moved, or what object they had in view, unless it be that to some minds there is something fascinating in savage life. The traders had much to induce them to push their way far into the interior. The Indians, although poor, were in possession of some things which were valuable to civilized people, and these things could be bought for a mere trifle. A few trinkets, which were of no intrinsic worth to the Indian and of but little relative value to the trader, would purchase from a savage the hard-earnings of the chase during a whole year. The consciences of the traders were not generally very tender. They seldom scrupled at swindling the poor Indian out of all the meagre comforts which he possessea. sometimes a cheated Indian would become incensed and pour out his fury upon the first pale face that he met, on account of some misdemeanor which had been done him by a trader. Really, the traders did little to initiate the Europeans into the good graces of the savages. Few of the traders settled down and became good citizens. Most of them became amalgamated with the Indians, and the half bloods were even more dangerous than the native savages. Most of these half bloods, the descendants of European traders and Indian mothers, were, during the Revolutionary war, either plundering tories or thieving loyalists. It is a somewhat remarkable fact that the whole of the middle and upper sections of the State of South Carolina were settled about the same time. For the first half century, settlers kept almost within sight of the sea coast and the Savannah river. The first permanent settlement, which was made at any considerable distance from Charles Town, was that made by the Scotch Irish colony in 1733 in the present county of Williamsburgh. This \v ?iu> fru tiu wuuJcibJ at. Tlie liuiulgiauis came not to a well cultivated country with fields waving with a generous harvest; but to a dense forest inhabited by ferocious wild beast and by human beings little less ferocious. The first settlers had to build forts as well as fell the trees of the forest. The French on the north and west, and the Spanish on the south, watched the movements of the first settiers of South Carolina. By these two nations?not in concert, but each for itself?every obstacle was thrown in the way to prevent the spreading of the colony. No small portion of the first seventy-five years of the colony's existence was mt in war. Add to this the fact that the colony was, during this period, visited by fire and flood, and the wonder is that it was not annihilated. Many circumstances contributed to entice settlers to South Carolina. The government, after it passed out of the hands of the proprietors into the hands of the crown of England woo mftro fn.vnrn.hlft. in manv nartinulars. than that of any of the colonies in America. In no region in America, was a home offered to a poor man on easier terms than in South Carolina. Land was cheap and taxes light, whilst ample provisions were made by the crown to secure the comfort and prosperity of immigrants. Notwithstanding all the hard* ships to be undergone and deprivation^ to be endured, poor men, if they were sober and industrious, soon accumulated so much property as to put them beyond the reach of want. Many, in a short time, grew comparatively rich. About the time that James Glen become Governor, many circumstances tended to the rapid settling of the territory now embraced in the State. When Glen became Governor, he called together the chiefs of the Indian tribes in the north-western section of the State. He met them in their own territory, and after a friendly salutation and the delivery of speeches, which, at this day, sound like flattery, a treaty was entered into by which a large portion of the upper part of the State was ceded to the English. The Indians fn that section we re, by this treaty, made friends, and there was comparatively little danger in making settlements among them. The misfortunes of the people of Europe and the faults of the European government furnished settlers for this region of country. The Pretender, Charles Edward Stuart, was defeated and his followers ^reduced to the utmost extremity by the battle of Culloden. Multitudes of brave Scotchmen, who had, whether right or wrong, it matters not, still, unfortunately, espoused the cause of the Pretender, were made prisoners. The English government had more prisoners than it knew what to do with. To put all to death was top cruel ; to pardon all would rob the government of its vindictive power. To meet the case, nineteen out of every twenty were pardoned and furnished transportation to America. Many of these hardy Caledonians came to South Carolina. A nn?Vmr rir/>nmatanr?A whilst it materially J J retarded the growth of the northern colonies, added settlers to South Carolina. In 1744 the French and Indian war broke out. This war grew out of the claims which both the English and French laid to the continent of North America. It was waged mostly on the northern frontiers. Whilst all was peace in South Carolina, it was nothing but war and carnage in the more northern colonies. Eight thousand young men fell upon the battle field. Many towns were burned, vast tracts of territory were laid waste, and the in* habitants sought homes in other seotions of the country. South Carolina received its full share. In 1755, Gen. Braddock suffered himself to fall into an ambuscade in which he was mortally wounded, and sixty-four of his officers killed. This left Pennsylvania and Virginia exposed to the French and Indians. Multitudes, driven from their homes in these States, came and settled in all of the upper counties of South Carolina. It will, no doubt, be interesting to give a brief history of the settlement of the several counties of the State. It must be remembered, however, that the division of the State into counties did not take place until after the Revolutionary war. After the territory embraced in the prestnt counties of Charleston, Colleton and Beau* fort, that embraced by Barnwell and Orangeburg, was the first to induoe a settlement. As early as 1704, a man by the name of Henry Stirling made a settlement in the present county of Orangeburg, on Lyon's creek. It was not, however, until 1755?two years after the settlement of Williamsburgh?that a permanent settlement was made in this section of the State. From 1704, the time of Henry Stirling's settlement, to 1735, only a few individuals located in this region. In 1735 a number of Germans made a permanent settlement. They were a people of good moral character. By them the settlement was called Orangeburg. Barnwell is so named in honor of the Barnwell family of Beaufort. Horry and Williamsburg, were both settled about the same time, and both by Irish. In Horry, many of the French Huguenots foutfd a home. Georgetown was settled early in the beginning of the eighteenth century by Baptists., Presbyterians and Episcopalians, mostly of English origin ; but it was not until xiai that the settlement became permanent Following the tide of emigration from the seacoast northward, the next settlement was made in the present county of Richland, in the year 1740, at a point a few miles northwest of the present city of Columbia. When the country was first settled, stockraisers constructed what they called "cowpens." These were rude fabrics, generally reared on some stream, or at the confluence of two streams. The object designed was to have some place where their stock, consisting mostly of horses and cows, might be collected, salted and branded. In some cases, there was no bouse, nor even a pen. The name cowpen was given to a certain locality. The owner of the Btock, on arriving at the place, uttered a call which was recognized by the stock, and to it they rushed. At the mouth of Cane Creek, Benjamin Singleton, and afterward Poreher, established cowpens. Settlements were soon made in the neighborhood by German immigrants. This was in the region of the Cherokee Indians; and for protection, the settlers constructed two f . f - a /"i 1 it. rt - j toris?ion, vjrrauuy oil we vuugaree, ouu xuxi, Kinnerly on the Saluda. The remaining counties of the State were mostly first settled by immigrants from the northern colonies. Fairfield was settled in the year 1746, on Broad river, by two brothers, John and Ephraim Lyles. The old home" "BE6&d lfl, we oeneve, sun in possession of some " of their descendants, who bear the same name. The Lyles were Virginians by birth. They were natives of New Brunswick, Virginia, but had emigrated to North Carolina; thence to South Carolina. Soon after their settlement, Ephraim was killed by the Cherokee Indians. At the same time the Indians killed a negro belonging to Ephraim Lyles, but Mrs. Lyles and eight children were not disturbed. Previous to this, Thomas Nightingale, the maternal grand-father of Rev. R. P. Johnson, the present pastor of the Episcopal Church of Yorkville, established a cowpen on little Cedar Creek, about six or seven miles below Winnsboro. About the same time, a cowpen was established -near Winn's bridge, by a man named Howell. The Scotch-Irish, both before and after the Revolutionary war, settled in great numbers in and aroupd Winnsboro. Chesterfield and Lancaster counties, were settled in 1745 by Virginians and Pennsylvanians. Kershaw was settled in 1750 by a colony of Irish Quakers; Chester in 1750 by Pennsylvanians and Virginians; Darlington and Edgefield, in 1760, by Virginians?mostly the latter. Lexington county was settled in 1750 by Germans. The first township laid out in this county was called Saxegotha. Marion and Marlborough were both settled by Virginians; the former in 1750?the latter in 1755. The first settler in the present county of Newberry was John Duncan, a . Scotchman; but an immigrant to South Carolina from Virginia. The counties of Laurens and Union were both settled in 1755 by immigrants from Pennsylvania and Virginia. Samuel and James Bradly made, in 1750, the first permanent settlement in what is now Sumter county. Spartanburg county was settled in 1750 by a few individuals from Virginia, Pennsylvania and North Carolina. The territory embraced in the counties of Anderson, Pickens and Oconee, was not settled until in 1755, after Braddock's defeat, when a number of persons, exposed to the 1 ravages of the Indians, came from Maryland, Pennsylvania and Virginia and located intbat mountainous region. Abbeville, York and Greenville, were the three last counties i in which permanent settlements were made. < Id 1756, Patrick Calhoun, with four other families, made a settlement in Abbeville county, on Long Cane creek. They were proceeded by two other families?one by the name of Edwards and tbe other by the name of Gowdy. York was first settled in 1760, I and Greenville in 1766, by Virginians and Pennsylvanians. When the upper and middle sections of the State began to receive settlers, the territory was soon, at least, partially filled with inhabitants. The Irish came in by hundreds. Ire- i land and Scotland furnished the up-country with the largest amount of immigrants. Ger- ' many and France furnished several colonies, , whilst the English immigrants remained most- i ly in the low country. The Huguenots fol * . % n ? _ _ 1 lowed tneoantee. (To be Continued.) 1 * I Bird's Nest on a Steamer.?A swallow : has built its nest on one of the life-preservers ( placed under the cabin roof in the forward , part of the steamer "Senator," on the Pacific , coast, and there the feathered mistress chirps , gayly while the hoat is passing up and down the river, unless she should take a notion to try her wings for a little exercise. While she < was hatching her eggs, she remained in her i nest almost steadily j but since she has a youqg < brood to feed, she is away quite often search- \ ing for their daily, Jjread to furnish them, i She follows fhe boat up and down tfaie river,, i and ifi twb df three steamers should happen to be temporarily absent on a ^foraging expe- < dition, She will always Select that whioh.contains her -home and family. She is quite a pet with the craw of the boqt.?Portland {Oregon) Bulletin, fwisifcnatwiMS <p?fltng. Correspondence oftlie Cincinnati Commercial. THE MOSES'WflfpPER ELECTION. A rumpus has begun in South Carolina which will end in the white people getting control of the State, as they now have control of Mississippi. The means to be adopted to overthrow negro rule in the Palmetto State may not be precisely the same as that which proved successful in Mississippi, but the result will be similar.. I have not the patience to write of the' titupendous folly of the blacks of Carolina in elevating to the highest judgeship of the State those notorious persons, Whipper, Wiggins and Moses. Wiggins I know little of, but that there should be a legislative body on earth who would deliberately elect to important iiirlfrpshins snr>h fallows as Moses and Whipper, surpasses my comprehension. Gov. Chamberlain does not use too strong language when he speaks of it as a "horrible disaster." I hardly know how to convey tot the mind of the reader an idea of the blackness of the characters of Moses and Whipper, and their unfitness for the bench. The verv thought of two such persons as judges of the two most important circuits in South Carolina is startling. Intelligence and property recoils from the thought But as the Legislature which \ elected these fellows has neither intelligence nor property, we have in that the only rational solution of their action. Pick out two of the most notorious ward bummers in Cincinnati?men as ignorant of the science of law as a hog is of astronomy; men of no standing in the community, and no character save that of idleness?and elevate them to the bench in two of the most important Ohio circuits, Cincinnati and Cleveland, for instance. How would you feel about it? This man Moses is the worst of the lot. He * is a more corrupt man than Whipper, the negro who has been elected judge of the Charleston circuit, the most important in the State. Whipper is an ignorant negro, and it is doubtful if he ever read a law book, but he is not steeped in iniquity like Moses, who is known over the country as the robber Governor. He is notoriously corrupt, and besides being in no wise qualified for the position of judge. With Moses and Whipper on the will /in/votin. UCIiUUj tuo OUUbU VlllUliiiOl wuivo ft 111 UV|VU?T rate into bargain and sale shops. The scales of justice will incline to the side of the highest biader. These judges were elected by the Legislature in the absence of Governor Chamberlain. Had the Governor been at the capital he might possibly have defeated it, as he still has some Jittle influence with the skillet heads of the Legislature. WHAT WILL BE THE RE8ULT? The whites are aroused, the color line is drawn, and before long yon will hear of a "great Democratic victory" in South Carolina like unto that in Mississippi. r The Governor has refused to sign the commissions of Moses and Whipper upon merely technical grounds?something that he would not have thought of doing, as he says himself, had these judges-elect been decent men. But how he is to carry outihis point I fail to see. There seems no escape from Moses and Whipper on the bench but the complete overthrow of the so-called nartv thPtn Ana tnat is wnat is coming. I say to the reader, and hope he will remember it hereafter, lookout for Democratic gains in South Carolina I For a long time the whites have wanted a sufficient excuse to rise up and overthrow the African government under which they live, and now they have it. Not a white Republican in the State, from the Governor down, nor a Republican journal, pretends to justify the election of these notorious men to the bench. Governor Chamberlain has tried to make the Legislature behave itself?often going into caucus and talking to them with tears in his eyes, but to little purpose. Although Chamberlain was elected as an ultra-Republican? defeating the Liberal Republican whom the Democrats supported?he can't control the African Legislature. The campaign in South Carolina next fall will be very bitter, if not bloody. The whites will now draw the "color lines," ana at the same time throw all the blame upon the blacks. We know what the color line means. If any there are any who don't comprehend the term, they can have light by spending a few dayB in Mississippi. H. V. R. A Cmtivan WuriTirien T?pif ?A 4>1nrov A KJ JL ftaAl UAJ I ? * MM* , ? ~ man who was formerly located in Hartford, Conn., but is now in New York, married, a little over a year ago, a couple who at once started for Europe, and have recently returned. The bridegroom was a gentleman of wealth, and before he presented himself before the bridal altar he placed a one hundred dollar greenback in his vest pocket to give to the parson for the marriage fee, and did pay it to him, as he supposed. While crossing the ocean, he discovered, greatly to his astonishment, the bill in the pocket where he placed it, and could account for its presence there onlv on the theory that he must have had another bill of a different denomination, which he had donated to the clergyman by mistake. On getting back to this country he determined to solve the mystery, and waited upon the reverend gentleman, who did not recognize him, and inquired if on a certain date he did not marry a certain couple. The clercvman remembered the occasion perfectly. "f know I am about to ask an impertinent question," said the visitor, "but I should like to be informed what fee you received for performing the ceremony ?" The clergyman was not prepared to make any disclosure, naturally being astonished that his interviewer should propound ?uch a question; but upon an explanation being made that the gentleman himself whom he then recognized, was the ene he had married, he would, of coarse, - gratify him, since he was so anxious tokaow*' "I received," he then went on to say, "a very small quantity of fine-cut chewing tobacco, folded in a very small piece of paper." That was enough; the only thing remaining to be done was to apologize, laugh heartily, shake hands, and make the one hundred dollar deposit good. Deb-Washiwg Without Soap.?Have your water quite hot, and add a very little milk to it This softens the water, giveo the dishes a fine gloss and preserves the hands; it removes the grease, even that from beef, ind yet no grease is ever found floating on the water as when soap is used. The stone vessels should be set on the stove with a little water in them, when the victuals are taken from them; thus they are hot when one is ready to wash them, and the grease is easily removed. Tinware keeps bright, and longer cleansed in this way than by using soap or scouring. The habit so many have acquired of scouring tins is a wasteful policy; the present style of tinware will not bear it Good Advice,?If you cannot speak well of your neighbors, do not speak of them at all. A cross neighbor may be made a kind one by Jkind treatment. The true way to: be happy is to make others happy. . To do good isa luxury, ^Ifypu are not wiser and better at the end of the day, that day. is lost Practice kindness, even J it be but a little each day. Learn apmething each day even if it , be bujt to spell ,one word. Do not seem to be what you afe not -Learn to control your temper and your words. Say nothing behind one's back yon would not say to his face.