Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, November 09, 1876, Image 1
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le wis&kisx, proprietor, j ? |nb*ptorf Jfamilg JUtospptr. ?n % $mwtiw if % folitital, jjiotral, ^griraltaral aub Commertial |ntensts of % Sontj). | TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IIADYAKCE.
VOL. 22. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 18Y6. NO. 45.
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RECOLLECTIONS OF THE PA8T.
I'm thinking of the place, Tom,
Where oft we used to roam,
That little oot beneath the trees
We called our forest home.
And- would I know you'd ne'er forget,
Whate'er our lot below,
That dear old spot we loved so well.
JuBt fifteen years ago.
Fm thinking of the school, Tom,
The master, too, so grim,
And how when he would turn his back,
We twain wonld mimic him.
The master sleeps death's dreamless sleep,
The bright green tnrf below?
'Our childhood's home has vastly changed,
Since fifteen years ago.
Last Summer I wandered, Tom,
To where we used to play;
The schoolhouse was not on the hill,
The brook had dried away ;
The old mill wheel had ceased to move,
The cottage was laid low?
The faces were not those we knew
Just fifteen years ago. '
I wandered to the churchyard. Tom,
And stepped beyond the wall;
The graves were many, and the grass
O'er them grew thick and tall;
Upon the stones I road the names
Of those who slept below.
And they were names we used to speak
.With saddened heart I turned ai^Hai^
And gained the dusty road,
And from that spot so dear to me,*
With rapid step I strode;
I could not bear to look around.
It made me sad to know
That all was gone whom we had loved
Just fifteen years ago.
My eyes are wet with tears, Tom,
They're falling while I write,
\ Friends that I love are cold in death,
And I am sad to-night;
: BuL Tom, our sorrows soon will end,
Life's stream will cease to flow,
And we shall rest where erst we played
^jTuat fifteen years ago.
4 ' i %%
|&ttf ?wwr.
Tl^P~MEETINrSTOB?.
"Now, Mrs. Wilder, 'bout them chickens?"
"Just let. me knit to the middle of my needle,
Draxy?l
Draxy waii^d, her busy hands finding something
to do intthe little pause. The things
on the table were straightened, the daguerreotypes
(it was$he best room) tilted more
accurately on flieir open covers, a minute
speck of dust aislodged from the mantlepiece?all
before the gentle "click, click" of
the needles ceasp, and Mrs. Wilder laid down
her stocking, it
"The chickens?let roe see. It was those
six little broijf of the speckled hen's I was
a-thioking of.Jind the pepper-and-salt roosters."
Mrs. Wilder viewed chickens from a
purely practical stand-point. "That'll be
enough, wotift it?"
"I don'L&now,"?doubtfully?"folks eat a
heap atCffrnp-meeting."
"80 they do. "Well, then, kill three of the
black ftdaods and bake a pie. That'll make
a plenty."
"I gOess eo." Business thus disposed of,
Draw, assumed a chair aod waxed confidential**
4*How many of our folks is a-goin\ Mrs.
gilder?"
a "You and me, and Nathan and Ellen?
that's five; and Lucy's six."
AATEuqf>* 17 r" 1
"Yes. Mr. Wilder said he guessed she'd
better, aod brother Parker plead hard about
i?. He thinks she is old enough to get religion,
and ought to have it; and her pa says
there's no harm tryin', only he won't have
her flustered. I don't know what to say 'bout
it myself, but I guess pa|s right." And Mrs.
Wilder ended with a little sigh.
"Mr. Parker!" There was a concentrated
and conspicuous sniff in Draxy's voice. She
said no more, and in another minute got up
and left the room, her errand accomplished.
There were few waste places in Draxy's life.
Satan might have dodged around her for
months, without finding one idle chink in
which to practice his nefarious arts.
Pretty soon the door opened and Lucy
came in?a girl of seventeen, with the shy
beauty of a wild doe in her hazel eyes. The
delicate, cameo-like outline of her face was
of an expression of appeal. Not that there
was anything to appeal against-in her life, the
petted only daughter of this honest home.
Some women possess that look naturally, and
before it, when combined with youth and
loveliness, the hearts of men go down like
ninepins. Lucy as yet knew not the value
of her dower, but such knowledge never lingers
long.
"Where have you been, dear ?"
"Over to Esther's, mother. They're beginning
the camp-meeting cake, aud 1 stayed
to help beat the eggs."
'tDotell! I suppose they're making a great
fuss, like all the rest of the folks."
"Oh ! yes. Mrs. Robbins has killed a turkey
and eight pairs of chickens, and had two
pieces of beef boiled ; and Esther and Hepsey
were making gingerbread, and raised cake,
and all sorts of pies that you can think of?
mince and apple and custard and Canadaplum?I
can't remember half."
"Land's sake I And who's going, Lucy ?"
"Mrs. Robbins and the squire aud the girls,
and James and his wife, and aunt Mirey,
and?" here the happy, girlish voice sank a
little,just a little; only a close observer
would have noticed the inflection?"and
Kane."
"Elkanah ? I want to know! Well, it's
time he got hold of something good. You'll
have to help Draxy make our pies to-morrow,
dear. The weather's splendid. I guess we're
going to have a good week."
This cantp-meeting about which all Ammonoosuc
was in a stir, was a yearly affair, anticipated
and planned for with eager and invariable
pleasure. After the heat of the summer.
and the toil of the harvest, when the
bay was in, and the potatoes stored, the corn
and the corn shucks safely housed?when the
rye and the wheat had gone to mill, and the
. "boarders" to their city homes?came, in the
beautiful September weather, this holiday;
which, half a picnic, half a religious exercise,
brought neighbors together, brightened the
links of church brotherhood and old friendships,
and gave to soul and body alike, refreshment.
But, oh 1 what a different thing
it was to the different people who were looking
forward to it.
Mrs. Wilder, and other good matrons of her
stamp, viewed it as a species of sober jollification,
combining much good cheer with some
comfortable preaching and praying. A time,
too, for the exhibition of notable housekeeping?of
pie-crust and fatted fowls, which duly
partaken of, might impart to the occasion a
certain toothsome solemnity^ . "
Brothel* Parker, of the reroigewasset Conference,
on the contrary, regarded it as a crucible
in which souls should be melted and
changed?a four days' opportunity, during
which the doors of heaven should stand open
for whomsoever knocked thereat In his
thoughts he saw them enter, souls .stained and
shrunken with tin, souls pure and spotless as
Luc/Wilder's?for Brother Parker thought
much of Xucy's bouI. 1 bad it been7eontained
in a body jess fair, it had. perchance, occupied
less of bis attention; but he was a man, though
a good one, and having twice tasted1 the sweetness
of married life, was naturally ready to
try it again. Ooly?here he was firm; a minister's
wife must be knbwn to be of ode mind
with himself. She must belongto his church;
and no temptation should induce him to lay
such a snare and scandal in"the path of bit
people, as to marry a woman without religion.
So Brother Parker looked forward eagerly to
the coming week.
Elkanah Bobbins was equally eager. A
j strong, brown, handsome fellow. <He had
been a wild boy ; but of late bad grown so
steady and so attentive to Bis farm that folks
said, ''Bane must Be thinking of !s?ttling
only where, or with whom nobody knew.
To Lucy and other girls the camp-meeting
was invested with a delightful vagueness, in
which merry meals, rustling tree-boughs,
sleeping under canvas, whispers, laughter,
"good times" generally, mingled. In more
than one young heart another and more select
element of bliss was consciously or unconsciously
recognized. In Lucy's it was?
Kane.
The brown, fearless boy and the fair girl
- . t * !! -t
bad grown up togetner as playmates 1111 tnat
dark day when, "for his badness," the neighbore
said, "Kane was sent away to Uncle
Elkanah's, at Swift Water, for a year, which
year had lengthened .into five. It was three
years now since he came back; tall, bronzed,
strange, yet familiar; and during those three
yeareL womanhood, had crept unaware over
the little maid who 'had shared -his baby
sports. Playmate no longer, Lucy was very
shy; but in her secret heart she was proud
of him; proud of the strength that could
tUieave the heavy timber up, which her brother
Nal?anltV0lded>^e^4i)^ks^Ttmt~coutd tame
the wildest colt She was sure be would always
be good hereafter. The four days'
dwelling in a grove with him was a delight
so great that it almost frightened her.
So the day came. AH Monday the committees
were at work arranging the tents in
the form of a hollow square, beneatlKthe
shelter of the trees. A bright little/Stream
curved around two sides of Che encampment
In its centre arose a covere<b?p&tform, to
which was affixed a derrick painted peagreen,
whose top supports da sharp-toned iron
bell. RankB of rough benches confronted
this stand, in the midst of which and directly
"ndor >lia nlnffnrm Wftfl ft emftll hftnched in
closure forjhe use of the "anxious," who were
expected to resort thither at thecloseof every
service to listen to the prayers and appeals of
the brethren. Nor was the carnal man forgotten.
Besides the eating saloon, opeu to all,
each tent bore a long table, duly spread three
times a day with amplest provision. These
tents represented each a village, and sheltered
by night and by day a whole neighborhood.
The name of the place?"Pemigewasset,"
"Stowe," "Lacon"?was lettered upon the
front, accompanied by some floral device or
text of Scripture. Upon the Ammonoosuc
tent was the inappropriate recommendation to
"Watch and Pray," aroond which, by way of
antidote, a wreath of flowery hope was garlanded.
The space within was gorgeous in
its appointments, and boasted, besides a small
bookcase of religious reading, a round table
with a red cover, which supported a huge
nosegay of flowers and gave the whole a tasty
effect, as Mrs. Wilder exultingly remarked to
Mrs. Bobbins, equalled by none of the others,
of which effect Ammonoosuc was justly
proud. And so the camp-meeting began
fairly.
All day Tuesday, people were pouring in.
Each one-seated wagon brought three and a
baby ; each two-seated, five and two babies.
By night hundreds were assembled. The
moon was brilliantly full, and the singing and
prayer masting rohioh inaugusataditheaMoai
bly, so spirited and satisfactory, that Brother |
Little rubbed his hands and remarked to
TO sv* Crt. tknf Uo'rl knnn frwfu /ui m HQ I
uiuiuui oiiiitu mat uv u utou w *?/* vj vwim|#u
in his time, but, iD his opinion, this was going
to be the greatest yet.
"How funny !" whispered Hepsy Bobbins,
as they watched the bustle inside the tent.
"See, Lucy, the beds this side are for us, and
that side for the men-folks. Don't it look
queer?"
"But who sleeps on the table ?" laughed
Lucy, as a roil of rustling mattresses was
lifted up.
"Don't you know ? Why, the elders and
deacons, of course. That's to keep people in
order, and stop any skylarking and frolicking
among us young ones. Say, Lucy, which
bed will you have ? Here, take this one next
to mine."
llT " oaII/WI ItA* mAfknw on/) QKO ti/hIQ.
UUUJ) UQ1ICVI LJUI UiUblJCt 9 uuu guv tiuio
pered, "here's your place, next to me. I dou't
want you down there with those girls, for
you'll talk and chatter all night, and not be
fit for a thing in the morning. Just slip off
your frock there behind the curtain, and put
on your double-gown, and I'll fix you."
So, like Christabel, "her gentle limbs she
did undress," so far as gown and hoop went;
and pretty soon, in her neat, gray wrapper,
she was lying ^comfortably tucked up in the
bed her prudent mother had provided with
pillow and quilt. Sweet, musty smells filled
the air from the hay-covered floor. The straggling
moon-rays, the flapping curtain, the
chewing and champing of the horses tethered
close by?all was odd and novel. She could
not sleep.
Rv.an/I.tiv tho mon ramp in anrend their
"? "J ?? ? " -r
quilts and blankets, and subsided into repose.
Good Elder Adams occupied the eod of the
table nearest to Lucy's couch. His righteous
slumbers quickly became audible, and peeping
round to look at him, Lucy saw a pair of
eyes intently fixed upon her. A strange thrill
came over her brain as she met them. Only
the width of the narrow table and the elder's
boots separated her from Kaue 1 She blushed
uncomfortably, and dropped her eyelids not
to open them again ; but, for long after, fairy
lights and visions seemed to dance before her
and trouble her repose.
At dawn the camp awoke. Small chance
was there for late sleeping. Thin blue smoke
began to curl from early fires. Horses whinneyed
for their corn. Impatient hands waited
to pack away the beds and restore the tent to
daytime order. By eight o'clock breakfast
was eaten and dishes washed ; and white-haired
Elder Adams took his place, Bible in hand,
at the head of the long table, to lead in prayer.
Lucy sat just without the door. The
stillness, the beautiful peace of the new-born
day, seemed reflected in her face. One golden
beech leaf fluttered down and lay upon
her fair braids. Kane wasn't given to poetry,
but somehow a line came into his head as he
looked:
"Oh! my Love is like the morning!"
i Ho Haft soon it anmpwhprp nilH hp t.hrkllCrht it
*-iv- ? O
was true?about Lucy.
At ten o'clock the clanging bell announced
general service, and the crowd assembled.
Truth to tell, it was not a picturesque crowd.
The American of the rural districts is rarely
a handsome animal. He is lean. He is
brown. He loses his teeth early. Hard work
- and soda soon transform the loveliness of
youth into palor and sharp outline. Saleratus
claims its own. Here and there one sees
a sweet, young face, or an old one with fine,
strong lines deep-cut and inscrutable, like a
carving in stone; but personal beauty is the
exception; Beauty apart, however, we may
be proud of our multitudes. For decorum,
for good-humor, for general neatness of ap*
pea ranee, for civility to strangers, for a sense
of propriety which almost ranks as dignity; it
would be hard to find their parallel in any
other country. At this Cadiz camp-meeting,
even the babies caught'the spirit of the occa*
: sion, and* sucked their thumbs contentedly
throughout tfte service withoat a'cry. / Thirt
teen ministers occupied the platform. With
- able generalship the lesser lights were first
r brought forward, leaving the greater for the
; third day, when the excitement was expected
' to culminate. The sermon was a quiet one;
i the W?W and beautiful songs of the Methodist
hyraual blended with the soft rustling of the
trees above, and the morning sped quickly
away.
Great cheer was held in all the tents at
noon, and unlimited quantities of pie eaten?
fit preparation for the after services. Pie usually
precedes repentance, as pie-eaters know.
In the evening, under the blaxe of the harvestmoon,
brother Parker arose for the first time.
A tall, thin man, with a sallow, tender face,
and emotional nature. His sermon was unusually
fervid. A certain thrill moved over
the assembly, and, at its close, a number of
persons passed quietly and without excitement
into the "anxious seatas candidates for the
prayers of the congregation. Some were parents
who carried their children thither; some,
members of the church, who felt that their
?ULj.J _ j j All
iuilu xmu auuoreu a uovauouvo. au n?s
welcomed and rejoiced over by the good
brethren, and mention was made of the fact
that still there was room for others, further
urgency being held in reserve for the next
day. ,
It was then, after two long and "searching"
discourses, that Brother Parker had "flxed"
to have Lucy succumb. He came to heraraong
the throng and pleaded earnestly.
He even took her hand and strove, with gentle
force, to draw her to the front. To his
surprise, she resisted. The girl had her own
reserve of character, her own thoughts as to
spfrHdkr~tbtngs^_ The small inclosure of
rough boards, withins'wiii?ii4t8eemed to him
so important that she shoulcT"ko ^l, was to
her no sacred place. To her, GodKaS appeared
often nearer?in the woods, on the i
hills, alone in her little room. Even the spec- J
tacle of her friends, Hepsy and Esther, con- ,
ducted weeping to the "anxious seat," failed
to move her. "I cannot; it would not be
honest." Such was Lucy's creed; and her
flower-like beauty concealed an underlying
strength, even as beneath the mountain- I
slopes, enamelled with butter-cups, spreads the
indestructible granite.
By the afternoon of the third day a widespread
excitement had seized upon the camp.
A rugged and reserved people like those of
New England, are most formidable when un- {
der the influence of unexpected emotion. The '
very novelty of sensation and expression as- I
1 ' O. LI 1 I
tounus mem. oixoug meu auuucu , wuuicu
became hysterical; young girls rushed forward
and fell upon their knees; the elders
went to and fro among the crowd, expostulating,
explaining and entreating. Over- all
rang, at intervals, the voice of the choir in
wild, sweet snatches. A dark thander cloud,
for a moment, hid the sun, and one low peal
shook the air. Brother Parker stood again
by Lucy; he held her hand. She was excited
and in tears, but she was firm. Just
then a stir took place near them. A young
man with bowed head was hurried past by
two of the elders. His face was hidden in his
hands, bat Lucy could not mistake. A sudden
tide of emotion shook her soul. If Kane
yielded?if Kane was going to that place?
then she should go too.Was
not her place by him?in time and
eternity? Brother Parker felt the fingers
quiver in his grasp, the resistance slacken.
Another moment be had led her forward.
She was kneeling, kneeling by Kane's side;
and this victory of an earthly affection, which
was to him an heavenly one, had power to
bring tears, like raiu/down the good man's
cheeks. Sweetly rang the hymn over them,
th? cloud flpntpr* paaC-piaac auaajunaairgany
ed in and bathed the place, and Heaven
seemed to smile upon the scene.
To our young lovers?who shall say? To
some hearts Oud has revealed himself in this ,
manner. We may not dare to question. But
with their deeper thoughts mingled the strange
sweetness of being there side by side?the
earthly blending with the unearthly, as it will
do while we are things of earth. .
"Don't let her converse with any one, Sis- ;
ter Wilder," said Brother Parker, as he res- j
tored the agitated Lucy to her friends. "Keep
her aloof this evening. Let no vain conversation
or gossip arise to disturb the impression 1
on her mind. To-morrow I will talk with her 1
further." I
Oh ! Brother Parker, had you noticed the i
hand-clasp, warmer and more lingering than |
became those who met merely upon a spirit- (
ual platform, exchanged between your young
converts? Did you hope to make matters
quite safe for the important conversation of
the morrow? O, Brother Parker, who shall
guess or compute the moral blindness which
Cupid can throw over even a good roan's
80ul?
So Mrs. Wilder kept Lucy "aloof." Poor
Kane, hovering about the family group for
the chance of a word, found onfy downcast '
lashes on the part of his idol, and discouraeriner
looks from the rest. Father, mother, ,
brother Nathan, sister-in-law Ellen, and faithful
Draxy?all were determined there should
be no "philandering" that night at least. So
the flame in Kane's soul, thus repressed, 1
burned more hotly than ever; and at "mirk !
midnight" he was still lying, unable to sleep, i
and longing for the dawn, his eyes fixed on i
the fair head not a yard from him.
A slight movement showed him that Lucy (
too, slept not. In a moment, prudence and
propriety alike forgotten, he had gently pushed
his pillow some inches nearer.
"Lucy 1"
Such a tiny whisper 1 Smothered by Deacon
Alleu's hearty snores, it would scarcely
have caught the attention of Fine Ear; but
Lucy heard.
She half turned, her face dyed with scarlet
? * * ^t- - 1? 1J I 1
Diusnes as sue saw uie uuiu imau ou ucm.
"Oh! don't," she breathed; "somebody will
hear." .t t : 1
"They are sound as dormice," whispered
Kaue. "They wou't wake. Do let me speak,
Lucy. I shall die if you won't listen. This
afternoon, when I knelt there, you know, I
said to God, 4Oh! Lord, I will be a good man
and a ohurch member with Thy help; but
how can I be anything good unless I have the
girl I love to go along with roe ? Oh ! let me i
have her, Lord.' And just then, Lucy, your
dress rustled, and you came and knelt down
by me. I knew it in a moment, though I did
not open my eyes. And then I felt that the
Lord was as good as tbey say, and I took it
as a sign from Him that I was to have my
heart's desire ; and I prayed, Lucy?I prayed
with all my might, for the first time in my
life. Did you pray, too, darling ?"
"Yes, Kaue."
"And for me ?"
"Yes, Kane."
"Oh ! Lucy, is it real ? Could you really
care for me ? I have loved you always, dear,
did you know it? But till to-night I could
not speak it out. Will you really be my love
and wife, Lucy?"
"Yes, Kane."
Never sounded words so sweet as-those three
"Yes's," breathed in that fairy whisper. Kane
put out his hand?little fingers met and clasped
it; and just then somebody stirred, and
Deacon Atwater, at the far end of the tent,
gave a species of snort, and half raised himself.
With frightened haste the locked hands
uncloaed. In half a second Kane and Lucy,
to all appearance, were fast asleep. And
from, that time till morning not a sound broke
the stillness of the teni.
Brother Parker was perplexed next day at
the attitude of mind .in which he found his
young disciple.' She was very sweet and gentle
; bqre his. questionings patiently. And
when he asked, "Did she feel as if she loved
God?'? she said "Yes; and she hoped always
to love Him now, for He had made her very
happy." But when the further inquiry was
propounded, "Was this feeling so strong that
she felt justiBed in becoming the wife of a
minister of the Gospel ??the answer was
"No I She could never have married a minister,
any way; and besides?"
"Besides what H
She had promised Elkanah Bobbins to
marry him.
But when had this promise been made?
Long and sorely did Brother Parker puzzle
over the matter; and so did Mrs. Wilder,
who, in the heat of her astonishment at "that
child's thinkin' of a husband," was heard to
? ? 1>a? AA?f oka AAiiMn^f fktntr knttt
Btkjf tuai, IUI UUl uaiV|Oiiw wuiuu * vuimm uvn
they got at each outer! Lucy and Kane kppt
their own counsel, and the affair in time got
to be spoken of as "happenin' at the camp
which fact made it more than usually interesting
to the neighbors. Small and transient
opposition bad our younp couple to contend
with. They were married the next year.
Both are members of the church now, and
Kane was on the Conference Committee for
the last camp-meeting. When people ask if
he got religion at Cadiz, he is wont to answer
that "that's- a matter between him and the
Lord ; but if not, he got something most as
good,"?his eloquentjlanna 1 ;,ip *' tence.
Eider Bobbins will be an indulgent
friend to the next generation in Ammonoosue.
And if heshould ever lie in tabled state,
and bear a little silvery confabulation break
in upon the silence of the "guarded tent," we
may be pretty sure that he will be conveniently
blind and deaf to what is going onremembering
how sweetly once his Lucy's
voice broke the stillness with, "Yes, Kane."
jpstovg of ?. <toliit&TTTBfHAIIT/1
A T OWPnTIVfl
lUOXVAibOii BAfilVIUIB
I OF THE "1
Early Settlement of South Carolina.
BY REV. ROBERT LATHAH.
BATTLE OF FI8HDAM FOBD.
When, in September, 1780, the British
loramenced to advance into North Carolina,
Colonel (afterwards General) Sumter, with
the remnant of his troops which had escaped
Tarleton at Fishing Creek on the 18th of
August, was encamped on Clem's Branch.
Co the approach of the British, Sumter found
it necessary to move his camp. He was not
able to resist the onward movement of the
3nemy, and wisdom dictated to get out of his
way as soon as possible.
Before the movement from Clem's Branch
mmmenced, Col. James Williams, with a
imall force which be bad collected in North
Carolina, joined Sumter. Williams, it is
said, had, but a short time previous, received
i brigadier general's commission from Govsrnor
Rutledge, of South Carolina. Williams
claimed the right to command the whole
? .i -._J? o?.? r.?i ...
force, out too iueu uuuer ouiuwi muicu tu
iubmit to him. The whole forces, notwithstanding
the bad state of feeling which existed
among them on account of the claim set
up by Williams, marched together and crossed
the Catawba at Wright's ferry. Rawdon
find Tarleton were pressing them closely. So
aear were the two armies together, that the
Americans had scarcely effected the crossing..
of the river when the British appeared on the
other side and commenced firiug. To settle
the dispute between Sumter and Williams, a
3onvention of officers, with Colonel William
Hill as chairman, was called.
The convention decided to send Richard
Winn, Henry Hampton, John Thomas and
John Middleton as commissioners to Governor
Rutledge, who was, at that time, some where
in the neighborhood of Salisbury,. North Carolina.
These commissioners were instracted
to lay the facts before Governor Rutledge and
rort/\rt hia Hpniuinn Tn thA meantime. Sum
" r ??? ? ? ?
ter was to retire from the army and the command
of all the troops, except those brought
by Williams from North Carolina, devolved
upon Hill and Lacey.
What decision Governor Rutiedge made, if
auy at all, never, so far as we know, was made
public. The battle of King's Mountain occurred
soon after, and Williams was mortally
wounded. At King's Mountain we hear nothing
of any claim set up by Williams as an
officer of higher rank than Campbell or any
one else. On the contrary, if any one was
first in command at King's Mountain, that
. # it iitmi? n
one was, by the consent 01 an, w imam tumpbell,
of Virginia.
After the battle of King's Mountain, the
troops from western North Carolina and Virginia
returned beyond the mountains. Hill
and Lacey led the remainder of the army down
to what was then Wright's (now Wm. Burns')
mill, on Turkey creek. Here the patriots lay
encamped, when Tarleton, who had been sent
by Cornwall to look after Ferguson, lay encamped
for two days on the hill west of Ross'
(now Robert Carnes') mill. On the 16th of
October, Tarleton was ordered to join Cornwallis
at the Nation Ford on Catawba.
Sometime about the first of November or
last of October, 1780, Sumter joined Hill and
? - ? ? r? _?
Lacey, then encamped at wnat is now x>urriB
mill. The brave and patriotic Williams was
dead, and all cause of dispute among both of*
ficers and men was removed. Sumter, by
general consent, took the command and led
the troops against the British and tories on
the west side of Broad river. In order to
keep open communication between Camden
and Ninty*Siz, the British had erected small
stockade forts at several points in the counties
of Union and Spartanburg. These posts, Sum*
ter and his men annoyed greatly. They gave
the British and tories no rest. The heroic
Elijah Clark, John Twiggs and Andrew Pick*
ens, with small parties of Georgians, were in
the same region operating in a way similar to
that pursued by Sumter. On meeting Clarke
and Twiggs, it was determined to unite the
South Carolina forces, under Sumter, with the
Georgians, under Clarke and Twiggs, and
make an attack upon Ninety-Six.
Each of the three officers agreed to furnish
a certain number of men. Sumter found that
before he could meet his engagement with
Clarke and Twiggs, he must raise at least
one hundred and fifty men. On consultation
with the officers of his command, it was de*
termined to send a number of individuals on
a recruiting expedition into what is now the
counties of York and Chester. The inhabit*
ants of this region of country were known to
be true Datriots. who neither asked for Brit*
ish protection nor accepted it when offered
them. As the settlers were all, or nearly all,
of Scotch-Irish descent, foornatiTe born Irish
men and Edward LaceJ. were sent out to
beat up the needed recruit. The names of
the four Scotch-Irish recruiting officers were
Billy Wylie, grandfather Dr. A. P. Wylie,
of Chester; Jimmy Johnson, the grandfather
of James E. Johnson, of Blackstocks, Chester
county, S. C.; Patrick McGriff and Jas,
Martin. The selection was made with great
! wisdom. Billy Wylie was a man of great
good sense, joined with a droll manner; Jimmy
Johnson was a witty Irishman who took
everything easy; Patrick McGriff was brave
to a fault; and James Martin was prudent.
Edward Lacey was one of those impetuous
creatures who never do anything by halves.
Whatever be undertook, he did with all his
might; daringly reckless, but admirably suited
for the kind of warfare in which he was
engaged. On the 6th of November, 1780,
these five recruiting officers set out to raise
one hundred and fifty men. They were given
three days to accomplish the work. The
arrangement was that, in the mean time,
Sumter would act as if he were about to advance
in the direction of Camden, but would,
in fact, camp at Fishdam Ford on Broad
river.
At this time, Cornwallis, with the main
body of the British army in the South, lay at
Winnsboro. On hearing of the operations of
8umter. he determined to send out a detachment
to cut him off The Indi vidual- chosen
to pot this determination into execution, was
Major Wemyss. The troops put under his
command for the capture of Sumter, were the
63rd Regiment of foot soldiers and forty of
Tarleton's Cavalry. All were mounted, and
on the evening of the 8th of November, 1780,
the detachment set out for Sumter's camp on
Broad river. The intention of Wemyss was
to make the attack upon Sumter at the dawn
-of day on the 9tb, but having procured good
guides find-l^hories being fresh, he arrived
at Fishdam j^ord-about one o'clock.
^Tate in the afternBmiof the same day on
which Wemyss left WinnsBiJto, the recruiting
officers sent out by Sumter, returnedaccordiug
to previous appointment. As the new recruits I
were on their way to camp, it was ascertained
that there was a barrel of whisky a few miles
west of the site of the present town of Chester.
Men and officers all agreed that they were entitled
to their share of this whisky. Their
course was soon turned in that direction, and
on arriving, the barrel was, without any great
deal of ceremony, rolled out; and to expedite
matters, it was raised up on one end and the
head knocked out of the other end. Every
man was instructed to help himself. V.ery
little ceremony was observed. Any kind of
vessel that would- hold whisky was pressed into
service, and every man helped himself as
liberally as he saw fit. A halt of only some
thirty minutes was made, but many of the
men were full. The order was given to
mount This was promptly obeyed, and men
and officers dashed off at a brisk canter for
Fishdam Ford. A few miles before reaching
the camp, a squad of British scouts was discovered.
No one knew how many British
there were, or any thing about th6m. So far
as either the men or officers knew, the whole
of a British brigade might be in the neighborhood.
ft made no difference whether there
were many or few. The men, and officers
too, no doubt all felt the effects of the whisky
they' had recently drank, and no sooner were
the British sooutsBeen, wana deafening si out-:
was raised and away all dashed in the utmost
confusion. The British took to flight at once,
and no doubt thought they were ruined.
Farm horses were urged on by their spirited
riders, over the Sandy river hills, at such a
fearful gait, that it was not long till they were
completely exhausted. The British scouts
got out of sight, and the new recruits reached
Sumter's camp without a scratch and flushed
with victory.
By some means Sumter had received an
intimation that he would probably be attacked
on the night of the 8th. Colonel Thomas
Taylor, who, after the fall of Charleston had
joined Sumter at Clem's Branch, was connected
with Sumter's army. To Taylor's vigilance
is mainly due the repulse of Wemyss.
Sumter had no inclination to lay plans by
which he might entrap his enemy. He was
a brave man and dashing soldier, but not remarkable
for strategy. So soon as it became
probable that Sumter's camp would be attacked,
Col. Taylor began to make preparar
tions for its defence. The horses were all
saddled and tied some distance in rear of the
camp. An order was made to have the guns
all freshly primed. Taylor was placed in*
command of an advance guard of twenty
eight men. At a short distance from the
camp of Sumter was a small field. On the
border of this field, Taylor had large fires
kept burning from an early hour in the evening.
Behind the fence, and at gun shot distance
from the fence, the vigilant Taylor
placed his picket of twenty-eight men. Sumter
lay near the river with his horses bridled
and saddled, ready for whatever might be required
in tbe event the British made an attack.
All was silence. Sumter's men were
waiting with sleepless anxiety. About midnight,
tbe sound of horses' feet, in the distance,
were heard. Taylor's pickets were wide
awake. Their commander ordered them not
to fire until the signal was given. When
Major Wemyss came in sight of the camp
fires, he saw that bis plans of operation could
not be carried out. He expected to come
upon Sumter off his guard, as Tarleton bad
come upon him at Fishing creek, two months
before. But for the sleepless vigilance or
Thomas Taylor, this, no doubt, would have
been the case.
80 soon as Wemyss discovered that the
Americans were apprised of his approach, he
determined to make the attack at once, and
not wait, as had been previously arranged,
until daylight He feared that by postponing
the attack, Sumter would cross the river, doring
the night, and by morning be out of his
reach. At one o'clock, Major Wemyss, at
the head of his detachment, charged the pickets
under Taylor. An order had been given
not to fire until the enemy came in full view.
The moment the British came within gun shot
distance, the order was given to fire. The
keen crack of five rifles was heard echoing
among the Sandy river hills. The aim bad
been unerring. One ball entered the arm,
and another the knee of Wemyss. The British
were thrown into confusion and dashed in
among the blazing fires of Taylor's pickets.
This brought them into full view, and volley
after volley was poured in by the pickets concealed
behind the fence. The British could
only discover the biding place of the Americans
by the flash of their guns. They fired
in the direction of the blaze, but only killed
one man. Wemyss having counted certainly
on victoryrhad not communicated his plans to
any of his subalterns. When he -fell, the'
command of the detachment devolved upon a'
lieutenant,-who ordered a precipitate retreat,
and hastened, with the party, back to Winnsboro
as fast as possible. The British left on
the field twenty-three men killed and wound
ed; two officers wounded?Major Wemyss
and Lieutenant Hovenden. The Americans
lost but one man.
Weroyss was not found till the next morning.
He was greatly exhausted from the
loss of blood. In his pocket was found a list
of the patriots he had banged and the houses
he had burned. No/withstanding his notoriously
brutal conduct on a multitude of occasions.
his bleeding wounds were bound up,
and at bis own request, the document which
contained an enumeration of his infamous
deeds, was destroyed.
About the time that the British, after having
been disordered by the fire of the Americans,
were preparing for a second charge, an
accident took place which contributed to the
advantage of the patriots. By some accident,
a cart load of cartridges became ignited.
The burning cartridges kept up a continual
cracking which the British mistook for platoons
of Americans. They could hear nothing
but a continual roar, and could see nothing
but a continual blaze. The cart -load of7g^
nited cartridges frightened some~ oTthe new
recruits among the Americans. These fled
to the river and concealed themselves beneath
its banks. Making a similar mistake with
the British, they concluded the battle was
still raging when it was only the exploding
of burning cartridges.
This little fight threw the British camp in
Winnsboro all. in confusion. Cornwallis
wrote immediately to Tarleton, who was in
the low country looking after Marion, to return.
In his letter, which is dated Winnsboro,
November 9th, 1780, he begs Tarleton
"to return immediately." Evidently, he began
to fear not only for the poet at Ninety
Six, but for the no less important one at
VVTtmsboro. He began to feel that his own
carcass wa&nudanger.
IpSfdlMesujT^rMing.
AN ADVENTURE IN THE APPENNINES.
I was journeying among some of the romantic
and rugged scenery of Italy, when my
guide suddenly stopped, and by his amazed
looks, plainly indicated the presence of danger.
It was past midday, and we were impatient
to reach our destination before nightfall.
I had scarcely asked the postillions what had
occasioned the stoppage, when a bullet whizzed
past us, and, looking in the direction whence
it came, I saw half a dozen or more fierce fellows
with presented rifles, taking aim at as.
Perceiving death to be so near, and desirous
of averting the danger, I signified to the brigands
my perfect readiness to give up all I
possessed, and only required the preservation
of our lives.
My words had the effect of arresting the
brigands' purpose, and they came down from
tbeir position, informing us, however, that we
must accompany them to the commander, who
solemnly swore to kill every Englishman that
fell into his power, in order to revenge the
death of his brother, who bad fallen in an action
with a party of Englishmen some days
before. This was not pleasant intelligence:
only BpaWlor*&otdeQt, Mr
the brigands assured me that their chief was
implacable, and my guide bad previously entertained
me with some narratives of the ferocity
of Michael Barossini, the recollection
of which served to corroborate the testimony
of the robbers. I afterwards learned that this
savage chief bad ordered his men to bring
every Englishman they found on the road before
bim, that be might have the luxury of
putting them to death himself, and that two
days before he bad sacrificed a fellow-countryman
of mine to his revenge.
I was blind-folded and conducted through
glades and ravines for some considerable time,
and then the handkerchief was taken from my
eyes, and I found myself in the presence of
the dreaded brigand, Michael Barossini
He was a man of herculean proportions,
with large, dark eyes and matted locks thickly
falling over bis sunburnt cheeks. He eyed
me with savage ferocity, but there was still
something noble in his appearance which led
me to expect that my appeal to his mercy
would uot be ineffectual, nut tne aeatn or
his brother was too young in his memory, and
all my words were of no avail.
"The Englishman's blood must be shed,"
he cried, "to satisfy my murdered brother."
Entreaties were of no avail; he was firm
and resolute, and haying given me a few moments
for preparation, be turned away to fondle
bis child, a boy of about three years old,
who came running towards him. I thought
it strange that after deciding upon snch an
atrocious apt, and with the expectation of
slaughtering a fellow creature in his mind, he
could caress his child and display so much of
human emotion. At lentzh. potting the boy
from him, he turned savagely towards me, and
ordered his men to conduct me to the place of
execution.
This was the brink of a precipice which it
was fearful to look down from.
"Gracious Heavens!" I cried, "jou are not
going to dash me down this precipice!"
"Not alive," growled the banditti; "you will
fall down when the captain has nicked yon,
and spare us the trouble."
The few moments that ensued were solemn
and awful. I stood upon the brink of eternity
; the savage herculean brigand was preparing
his rifle for the death shot, and the
brigands were gathering around him anxiouq
for the horrid sight that was to ensue. At
length everything was ready; Michael Barossini
took his position and ordered the men to
stand away from him; the rifle was uplifted,
and the savage eyes were taking aim ai my
heart
At that moment the brigand's child, who
had no knowledge of the dreadful proceedings
going on, came dancing towards me. A ,
thought struck me that this child might be
made the instrument of my preservation ; I
darted forward, snatched the boy in my arms,
and then cried to the brigand to fire I
fkn rJfla foil fmm BflroRsini's hand, and he
came running towards me as if for the purgrce
of tearing the child from my breast,
ut I drew towards the precipice, and holding
the child stretched over it, demanded my
life as the condition of the safety of the boy.
Barossini, stung to the quick, seized upon
his rifle, and was presenting it again, when
his wife rushed upon him, held bis arm, and
besought him to save her child.
The scene was solemn and striking. The
natural feelings of the man were combating
with the savage ferocity of the brigand. ?a*
rossini remained with bis eyes fixed upon me
and his child, who remained suspended over
the precipice, crying aloud for htt father to
save him; the mother hung Upon the bli;
gand's arm and endeavored to move him from
his purpose-l Nature triumphed, and he
cried-? v';'' -1 - ftt'i i'-i i
"Give ine my-child, and go.". v* '?"And
what security shall I have for my
safety ?" I inquired.
. "The brigand's honor," was,the reply.
. Seeing/that I still hesitated,'Baras^joci^
! "Toil do not know me. Ton have.not
heard of Michael Barossini, or yod would
known that; brigand though he be, bis word
has never yet been broken. But here, stranger,"
he continued, throwing a dagger towards
me, "take that and the boy with yon,
until my men shall have placed joa again in
safety." - >. .
The nobleness of . the action was in striking
contrast with his previous conduotr I took
the dagger, and gave my word of honor that
the boy should be returned in safety. ..
"I expect it," said Barossini; "so long as
the bov is safe, you are safe, also."
He looked at the bov as if wishing to erabrace
him, but evidently thinking the action
might make me suspicious, he mastered his
feelings. But the mother oould not assume
suoh heroism. She saw the boy in my one
huid, while the other held the brigatad's dagger,
and she came toward me, beseeching me
that I would permit her tokiss her child.
The look, the tone, the action of the woman
were all so touching, that what little heroism
I may have possessed forsook me, and placing
the trembling boy in his mother's arms, I
cried?
"Barosini, I will not take away yonr child."
The brigand's features relaxed not; bat,
after regarding me for some seconds, he remarked:
"Yon shall not lose anything, Englishman,
-hy yonr humanity and respect for the feeling
of the mother or my child." - <
Then turning toward Ms men,he gave ihem
some directions, and as they departed, he entreated
me to remain with him afhw moments.
"I am glad to see yon have so much confidence
in an enemy, he said. "Yon have
won my admiration. For yonr sake I make
peace with all your countrymen."
The brigands now returned, and Barossini
informed me that they.were ready to conduct
me to the road* and that they should attend
me so far as there might be tha least danger of
falling in with the brigands of hisparty. I
thanked him, and asked one favor; that he
wonld retain some miniatnres. which were
among the property oaptotod. * <? - ,i
"They will return them to you," was Baros
sini's reply. "Farewell"
I ki?ed the little urchin that bad been the
instrument of my preservation, and departed.
On my arrival in the road, I found the chaise
exactly on the spot where it had been stopped,
-jvith the guide and postilions in waiting.
BuTwTh^fiurpriBed me most of all was to find
that not an article of my propertv was mis*
sing. The brigand had rettesed. the whole.
JURBIAGE SUPERSTITIONS.
Since marriage became an institution, there
have been certain signs and superstition! that
have clang through its celebration through'
all ages and in all countries. Even to-day in
the most civilised nations we have not entirely
rid.our .minds of these superstitions, and we
warrant there is never a bride but indulges
herself in looking for some happy omen. Few
people are dauntless enough to be married on
Friday, and we all have the most unlimited
confidence in that old shoe thrown after the
newly-wedded pair. Nearly every bride of
to-day wears about her when she is married
some trifling thing bpnrowed from some lady
friend, and all know that "Blest is the bride
on whom the sun doth shine," and all are
equally certain that
"To change the name and not the letter
Is a change for the -worse and not for the better."
So on; quite indefinitely, it is wonderful
how these ancient signs are handed down
from generation to generation, and how impotent
reason is to ao away with their hold
uwu iub uuuieii IU1UU. LAl W
of the olden beliefs concerning marriage superstitions.
In the earliest weddings we read
of among the Jews, we find that the fourth
day of the week was considered the unlucky
day to wed and the fifth for widows. The
Romans also believed that certain days were
unfavorable for the performance of marriage
rites, aod these were the calends, nones and
Mm nf arrant mnhtli tVlA whnlfl mnnt.hu nf
February and May, and many of the festivals.
Jane was considered the post propitious
month of the year for matrimony, es- *
pecially if the day chosen were that of the
fall moon or the conjunction of the ran and
moon.
The month of May was especially to be
avoided, as it was nnder the influence of spirits
advene to happy households, and for centuries
this superstition seemed to prevail in
Italy against May nftrriages, ana even to *
this day prevails in some parts of England
and our country. In China marriages are
positively prohibited at certain times and sea
80118 on account of their being nnlncky.
There was at one time a superstition current
in England against marrying on ' Innocent's
day, December 28th,'a day of ill-omen,
because it was the one which, commemorated
Herod's massacre of the children. And it is
still thought unlucky to marry in Lent.
"Marry in Lent and you'll live to repent."
An old line also says: "May never was ye
month of love." Another: "Who marries
between ye sickle and ye soythe will never
thrive." The old rhyme that we have all
heard tells us to marry on
"Monday for wealth,
Tuesday for health,
Wednesday the best of all;
Thursday for crosses,
Friday for losses,
Saturday noluok at all!"
At one time it was thought that all those
who married on Tuesday and Thursday would
be happy. Among the Romans no marriage
was celebrated without an augurer being first
consulted. .v .
In the middle ages it was considered an
ill-omeo if the bridal party, in going to church,
met a monk, priest, hare, dog, cat, lizard, or
serpent, while all would go well if a wolf, a
spider, or a toad were encountered.
It is lucky if the initials of a wedded oouple
spell a word.
In the south of England it is said to be unlucky
for a bride to look in the glass after she
is completely dressed before she goes to the
nhnrrth OA * o1n*A AV lAfllA At.h.lT article is
put on afte the last look has been taken at
the mirroiS* Gray hones at a wedding are
lucky. It is supposed to be unlucky if a wife
does not weep on her wedding day.. *
In 8cotland it is considered an unhappy
omen if a couple are disappointed in getting
married on the day fixed for that purpose.
In the Isle of Man it is believed that it insures
good luck to carry salt in the pooket
when going to be married.
At Half it is considered unlucky to go in
one door and go out at another when a person
gets married.
Whoever goes to sleep first on the wedding
night will die first. .
If there is an odd number of guests at a
wedding, one is sure to die within the seconding
twelve months,
jar A valuable elephant was recently killed
at Beigamo, Italy. It belonged to a menagerie
ana was in the last truck of a train, and
when near the end of the journey, becoming
uneasy, it forced out the baok^part of the
caget and fell out upon the liue/A&vjts foot
waafsstened to the floor by a strong chaiiL
the beast wai dragged, and when the train ar-w
rived at its destination is was dead.
l?^There picnic among tbte mothers
pie" fo^dinner that day. Itturned out,
hpwwer, to be^ the printers mistake Ibr