Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, January 11, 1877, Image 1
lewis m. &BXST, jproprietoj^ ^ |nftq?{itbtni Jamilg flttospaptr: Jot % ^promotion of % ^olitKal, Sotial, ^gritnllnral nl dommmial $itfcrtsts of ijjt j&oafj). TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, El advasce.
VOL. 23. S YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JANUARY 11, 1877. NO. 2.
????????
L *thcM l"**LITTLE
WORRIES.
Though many ills may hamper life
When fortune turns capricious.
The great but nerve us foe the strife,
The small ones make us vicious.
Fierce griefs are soon outstripped by one
Who through existence scurries;
It's harder for a race to run
With nimble "little worries."
A button bids your shirt good-bye,
When late for dinner dressing,
You have a kite you cannot fly,
And creditors are pressing.
You run to catch?and lose?a train,
(That fataleat of harries),
Your newest hat encounters rain?
Lile's full ot "little worries."
From day to day some silly things,
Upset you altogether;
There's naught so soon convulsion brings
As tickling with a feather.
'Gainst minor evils let him pray
Who fortune'* favor curries?
For one that big misfortunes slay,
Ten die of "little worries."
Mp?p?
?he t?eg ?ellce.
KATE KENNEDY'S GHOST. j
BY MBS. HENRY DEAS.
k
CHAPTER IV.
Geraldioe Harcourt's bad not been a happy
life. Her father, whom she dimly remembered
as a kiud and caressing parent, bad
died while she was very young, and between
her mother and herself no close tie had ever
existed. Mrs. Harcourt had been disappointed
at her birth, having desired and hoped for
an heir instead; and though the child was
certainly not to blame for her \ sex being a
mistake, ft appeared as though the misfortune
were destined, in many petty ways, to be visited
upon ber 'unoffending head. When she
* * ? . jj .1.
grew Ota euougn 10 ooneniuuu iuc uuuvcisa- |
tioD that went on around her, she was frequently
mortified by hearing disparaging
comments made upon her by her mother, in
the presence of straugers. She was neither a
pretty nor a clever child, and her plain appearance
and stupidity were openly remarked
upon and condemned, until her deficiency in
both respects became magnified into undue
proportions in ber own mind. If a visitor
^ noticed ber or tried to draw her out, Mrs.
Harcourt would exclaim, "Oh! it's no, use
talking to Geraldine, she's such a little dunce ;
you won't get anything out of her." Her one
beauty was her hair, which was richly abundaut,
and of a pale golden color, falling in
silken curls over her shoulders; but if this
was admired, her mother's reply would be,
"Yes, it's fortunate the poor child has something
to be proud of; without that hair I am
sure she would be too ugly to look at." Then
she would be subject to such critical remarks
as these : "Do, Geraldine, for pity's sake, hold |
yourself straight and try and look less awk- j
ward. Was there ever such a figure ?" "Gernr.
>.n onnr Koor) anrl nntwpr nrnnpr- i
A1U1UO, 111 K UjL/ JUUI UVMM WUM M..WM V.
ly ; you bave no more manners than a ploughman's
child." "For mercy's sake, child, keep
out of the parlor if you caunot behave better;
positively I'm ashamed of you," and so on,
until she really grew as bashful, awkward ;
and unprepossessing as she was accused of
being. She lived with her mother in a large, 1
lonely house, elegant, aristocratic and fearful- j
ly dull. She had a governess, who alternately j
. neglected and scolded her, aud no friends but;
^ a cat and a canary, of which, as well as of a
family of dolls, she was devotedly foud. As '
she grew older, a desire to improve her mind
as well as a natural fondness for reading, led
her to spend much of her time over books,;
; aud she gradually acquired a large and va-,
ried fund of kuowledge, picked up in a somewhat
irregular mauner, but very useful, nevertheless.
Aud had she met with any congenial
companion, with whom she might have
exchanged thoughts, she would probably have ;
Kqc, f.uin/t hnth enfprf.ftininc and sensible: :
for though by no means brilliant, she had a j
fund of quiet intelligence and an excelleut.
memory, and turned all that she learned to ;
good account. When about eighteen, she ;
was taken into soeiety, but derived little enjoyraent
from the amusements of the fashionable
world. As her mother expressed it, she
^ did not "take," and receiving but a moderate
degree of notice, found nothing pleasant in
spending hours at one gay assemblage and
then another, where she knew few people,
aud passed a great part of the time in looking
on. Mrs. Harcourt was angry at this failure.
She had hoped that in virtue of her fortune,
bf at least, Geraldine would have attracted at|
tention, and have been able to secure a desir|
able match ; but after four seasons vainly (in
f this respect) spent in London, she gave up
b her schemes in despair, and consented to her !
" daughter's wish to remain, in future, quietly at'
home. About this time the heir to a neighboring
estate returned from a prolonged stay
on the Coutinent and became a visitor at
Beechcroft, Mrs. Harcourt's place. The elder
people had long been on terms of intimacy,
and it soon became evident that the father of j
young Mortimer was anxious to establish a !
yet closer bond between the two houses. The j
principal reason fqr this, though Geraldine's
then unsophisticated mind suspected it not,
was obvious. The Mortimer estate was heavily
mortgaged, and Geraldine's fortune would
have proved a most acceptable bulwark to the
declining prosperity of the family. Ingenuous
and open-hearted herself, she never dreamed
of a secret motive underlying the flattering
attentions bestowed upon her, and received
them with undisguised pleasure. It was something
so new to her to be courted and sought;
p after, that it was no wonder she yielded read- ;
ily to the snare. George Mortimer was a I
- J a. nn ft r?l o fVvl I air r*rn hAliqoO. !
gOOd-Leiupereu, geuwciuauijr iviivn, pi vj;vooua~ i
sing io appearance, and with that universal !
courtesy and kindliness of manner which over- j
flows from a cheerful disposition and a con- j
tented mind. He did not share his parents' ;
designs; but it was impossible, under the cir- j
cumstances, for him to do otherwise than follow
their lead in paying attention to Geral-;
dine, without appearing pointedly cold or
rude. She, poor girl, unhappily interpreted |
his friendliness into something deeper and
more significant, a delusion all the more readily
excited, from her own strong predilection ;
in his favor; and believing that he was really
fond of her, she yielded herself without reserve
to the iuiluence of the new and delightful
emution thus awakened in her heart. Her
dream of happiness was destined to be rudely
dispelled. Young Mortimer suddenly left
home, and she heard no more of him, except
through occasional casual mention, for a long
time. Then the old people's excessive foudness
for her seemed gradually to cool off, and finally
their place was sold and they moved
oat of the neighborhood, thus putting an end
to all intercourse between the two families.
After thatvQer*ldioe grew more quiet and
reserved thfto e*?r, had'iasort of settled melancholy
tooh poss%,k)D of her, which there
was do counteraction influence to dispel. She
would uot, for #offl^1Hn[e acknowledged the
cause; but ^'eripqy er's penetration easily discovered
it, ns4. is one of her sharp
moods, she Tniiti tfmftimri throw out hints
about her "diaaip|tttittjH0fctv" which cut her to
the quick, sfcingtag Ijer'fenative spirit almost
beyond end^alij^ aa^rove her more and
more exclu$t?ly mtSJ herself.
Years weot bjr? with them important
changaa., Ti(e Haripourts' property,
through thtt fh?Uir% 0fi g^long established
banking firm, was a1.aogt entirely swept away,
leaving them comm^tii^^mestitate. Beechcroft
had to be fora they purchased a
country house of London,
which they were tltyg 49 furnish handsomely
from the wrecktojftjjrtir Ibtwer possessions,
and, for a short time, continued to live in
some degree of style. effort soon had
to be " ko "jjafjilarcourt. bitterly
mortified at in their circumstances,
shut ht|Mtfu?n() daughter almost
entirely out fro? t .wort^, and became a
prey to melancholy > jjid ^fitable discontent.
As Fortune's wheel turttttffeos'e ascend while
others are cast jits revolutions.
Changes equally a*i j^Qg, bu | of a contrasting
character, bad, nfptyfhye, occurred in
the Mortimer famil ^$1 rough a succession
of deaths, a lofty t da aa a splendid estate
had been transaWttl to; Dftlonel Mortimer,
and Bubsequen^Bj >oq hi decease, to his son,
who was now <f'"Desborough and
one of the we^tCR* t pgej Id England.
It was thrciach l Mttri&fk&ent that Lord
Desborough ind (3 SfgJdhi^tiad met again,
after a sepa ration on near! [*ifcw|elve long years,
and the lattef%tsiiid a?ad fietjher it were possible
that this cold, qlentojan, with his air of
melancholy indifference,
could really be-George Mortimer,
whose image impressed upon
her memory, If not'4^1 bba^t. Certainly
there seemed id be' Jjj&ttt bf resemblance
between the tf^pqr if any vestiges of that
old dream hn^Kpyfaed fa her mind, a very
brief period intercourse
would have su$icadj Scatter them to the
But Mrs. H?i|od^^||?fry differently on
the subject; and it *|om?9BKjpdiately entered
her scheming bltllil^^l^waorae method by
which this wealth}! Earlthibuld be prompted
to carry out ndirtf inf the ip! endor of his prosperity,
the plah eet fjt m?tion in the days of
his necessity, by his fath&iiod mother. How
she worked this hie hod, J would not be easy
to describe. s ;mebow or other, it came
to Lord DesbBtaagl '& eqfs one day that a certain
lady, of tfiftoc friiicjtairth but fallen fortune,
who haithri&ifrtilQ and liked him well,
would be willing eaougLnow to accept his
hand if he ch^i^tij place It at her disposal.
Coupled -with thwvbfrffia?ddftent?h accounts of
her poverty, s* htVtnTrot, - &excited
his ByAfl8lp|^^#akened his generous
impulses. ttigniat be confessed that,
up to this time, matrimony had
entered his'heatf. tf;ke had not found Geraldine
especial^ attractive at twenty-one
years of age, ess, at least, of!
youth about her, heoajftaitylgt.would not have
been drawn towhrd J?if sow*when, at thirty*
three, but seeming oldeft she was pluin,
faded, almost wore looking and embittered
in mind by the frets of povertj? and the wear
and tear of jars. But he
could not getftWBjWHff :fKj^ich had been
nresprited to bixthkfiU^tifc tmnnened after a
while, to Mr^^fcp^rt^iintense triumph and
delight andjSef^ineVihteuse surprise, that
he made tlw/.d^expect^d proposal of marriage,
in by-gone
days, unquestionably and
unhesiBjll^ba^f *ac^pted. J
How'vu rQCeived and Regarded now,
the rea(Wl|M already teen. Had Geraldine
been permitted tfeiouoWher beto will, her refusal
would bkya and positive.
It was long eM ftfiil^BlH ^b? 'prevailed upon
to change ber tnnnii^ wodM^he, perhaps,
haveultimW^y dQi?^Ba%ft|jfef?ttie one startling
inducement oflere bj[ the condition of
her mother'? health, wh ch seemed to make it
a matter of duty far. Hr to. oeuee to oppose
her will. ' / , J " '
And nowitonly to'aettle the time
for the mdfifige, w hfah "jlie ^ri (f e elect would
fain have iqdetjtjitely (iostpbtad : but it was
decreed otherwise *>/ tbe rulin g powers. |
Mrs. Ha reoart fou^h^-ietf seconded in ber I
wish to geit'Jfe qver ^i^on i?rpbiiible, by the
Earl himself, who expressed his anxiety to j
return, shortlyt to hk^eoqpti^' geat, and desired
to carry his brideifllth him. The preporotinna
fnr t.hft q nnn rHinrrlr
made with all praeticifole d^ipntch, and the
second of August ? as the important
day. ' ' v .-4
"I am sure I doni kj^wliirtr I shall man-1
age about a break fas# Baid Mrs. Harcourt.
"The rooms are $o fllabbily ftirnished, and
then, besides, youf tfojMeau has cost so much,
Geraldine, that it will <e difficult to meet such
a heavy additional e*kDBe."
"Indeed, I shoijiid g-eatly p&fer no breakfast
at all," was hi|??bjgbter'd j reply. "The
less fuss and display ttat can be made, the
better. I would rather go off at once from
the church ; and no dojfot d>ord Desborough
would rather it alao, o^ly-'ftj does not wish to
dictate to you." ' ' '
"Nonsense," sa\dhei mother. "You shall
be decently married./at rate, for the
credit of our name, fMHjjiji are; and afterward,
you kndfc, ydjfugtt Kielp me out with
the bills?they need i^lf beiittled uow."
Oh! manojn*, nap^ruuretT'deraldine, turning
away with a of shame. Allusions,
such as these,'bqi^ht^ecuofaiy benefits that
were to be <i ertved fnjmibar marriage, always j
filled her with A keea nktee of humiliation, j
placing befortsher thton# g^and object to be
attained hy the step s,e bad been forced in to
taking, and seeming^ inspire her with an
absolute loathing f"Tthe riches that were, by
this means, in o her possession.
Mrs. Hartourt hac ber way. An elegant
breakfaet was.'o^deret^jbid a]s0 a set of new
| furniture, jthough Qaigfdine earnestly protested
agaihit.this J?'^teui. Of one thing
she wasfu/lj? resgJve^j^nci that was, that any
bills her anji&nr migit after her marriage request
hen'|Kd in-deftlyshould be settled
out ofhey; ?#n pnvtk purse. Never would
she apply to Lord I^borough, for such a
purpose! :
The second af Ajgmtarrived, and the
guests, far more, W^mnber than Geraldiue
had desired, asse^htyj to witness the ceremo
ny, in a quiet church, Dot far from Mrs. Har- <
court's residence, whither a chosen few were 1
afterward to repair. Never had the bride ]
looked plainer than on this occasion. She <
had, if the truth must be owned, spent half I
the night in tears, and the traces of this emo- 1
tion were too distinctly visible in her heavy i
lids and pallid cheeks, while an expression of ]
proud melancholy rested on her features. A i
little color would have contrasted favorably i
with the dazzling white of her drapery, but I
her extreme paleness rendered it unbecoming, i
There was scarce a tinge of .rose even in her i
lips, and her fair hair and light lashes offered I
no break to the monotony of outline. Her 1
dress was white silk, with a veil of Brussels <
lace. Her only ornament was a magnificent <
diamond necklace, which Lord Desborough 1
had preseDted to her with a special request
that she would honor him by wearing it on
this occasion. The Earl himself looked handsome
and stately, and bis deportment, every
one remarked, was perfect. As one charitable
lady afterward said, it was beautiful to see
how well he carried it off, considering that
that poor, ugly Miss Harcourt had literally
been forced upon his acceptance. Any one
would have supposed, to look at him, that he
was quite satisfied and happy. His responses
were made promptly and decisively; while the
bride's were scarcely audible, and her band, as
he placed upon it the wedding ring, was as
white and lifeless as a hand of marble, chilling
him with its touch.
The ceremony was over, and then came
Geraldine'sgreat trial, the breakfast. Fortunately
for her, however, this ordeal was not a
long one, for there had already been an unwonted
delay, and the hour fixed for their
starting was near at hand. She was soon, to
her great relief, obliged to leave the table, in
order to change her bridal attire for a travel- 1
ing suit. The Earl's carriage-and-four were
- Tka Ano/ikmsn rlaolroH in a whif.ft c
Ill nautili^! XUQ VUHViMUIUUf UVVP?VM CM ?> ? ... f
favor, handled the reins impatiently, and the r
splendid chestnut horses pawed the ground c
and champed their bits, fretting to be gone, g
The hurry of dressing brought a little flush t
and a less icy expression into Geraldine's face, t
In her lilac silk and white chip bonnet, with \
its pink roses, she looked almost pretty as she t
came.down again to bid the guests good-bye. s
The adieus were quickly spoken. Her mother
kissed her lightly on each cheek, with h beam- j
ing "au revoir, my dear Lady Desborough 1" ^
Her husband offered her his hand, in which e
she placed her gloved fingers, and led her out c
to the carriage; and seated at his side, she t
was whirled off, a moment afterward, feeling v
as ifshere were in a dream, out of the old life r
into the new, toward the unknown home to ]
which her thoughts turned with no sentiment 8
of britj^ike longing or anticipated joy. \
f
CHAPTER V. v
Desborough Castle was a noble and antique 8
nilp Kni 11 in the fifteenth centurv. The orie
inal structure remained untouched, though a )
ui'iiloni liuJ -bcrTTtHTl>to t? tfcfrr }<vt-a* f
years, and was at present the only inhabited r
part. Sdrrounded by magnificent woods, it c
presented an air of almost gloomy grandeur
to the eye of the beholder, lying as it did, for 1
the most part, in shadow, save the modern 8
froot, which looked out upon a velvet lawn,
studded with beds of rare flowers and glossy 8
shrubs. It was a building that would have r
charmed Geraldine's fancy, had she approach- t
ed it umjer more favorable circumstances. ?
Even now, she could not but view it with in- 8
terest, and something like a thrill of pleasura- 8
ble pride swelled her heart as she looked 8
around upon the noble domain of which she 8
had just become the mistress." *
The Earl, who throughout the journey had 8
treated her with the most polished courtesy r
and paid every atteutiou to her comfort that s
considerate kindness could dictate, pointed out c
to her the various beauties of the scenery c
through which they passed. Here a stretch 1
of woodland, timbered by oaks of centuries'
growth ; there a smooth glade broken by a 8
winding stream ; parks where shy graceful deer c
roamed at will; shady copses and smiling ^
meadows, breaking successively upon the view
like the scenes of a panorama as they drove
slowly onward. At last they reached the
castle, and his lordship, alighting, assisted her
to descend. "Welcome home, Geraldine," be
said, calling her, for the first time, by her t
Christian name, as with grave formality he 1
raised her hand to his lips. Geraldine's heart j
throbbed. She gave him a timid glance, but 1
ho tenderness of expression responded to it in ?
his face. He was, in fact, not even looking s
at her, though he still retained her hand in 1
his as he led her through the arched doorway 8
into the marble-floored hall, and thence into 1
a sort of reception-room, where stood a table 8
spread with fruits, cake and wine. "Rest ^
here awhile," he said, placing her in a luxu- f
rious chair, "and refresh yourself with these ?
trifles for the present. Dinner, I presume, *
will not be ready for some time yet, as the t
house keeper could not tell precisely at what t
hour to expect us." J
Geraldine thanked him, but declined eating e
anything, aB she bad no appetite. He poured
her out a glass of wine, however, and insisted J
upon her drinking it. When he had given c
some orders to the servants who stood waiting c
his commands, he offered to conduct her, at
once, to the apartments prepared for her re- f
ception, adding that he hoped she would find t
them to her taste. Sileutly, she followed him
up a flight of broad, shallow marble steps, tq
the second floor. Here, along a wide corridor, 8
several doors stood open, revealing glimpses
of polished mirrors, damask and velvet drape- c
ry, luxurious furniture, ornaments of marble
and bronze. Passing all these he turned into t
a narrower passage, running crosswise, lighted t
by stained glass, and turning the latch of the t
first of three doors, held it open for her to I
enter. "Here," he said, motioning toward the
" - - - * ? l?l J r
interior or tne apartment 10 wnicn it gaveauraissiou,
"you will find four rooms en suite,
which I directed to have made ready for your
occupation. They are, I think, the most
pleasantly situated in the castle, aud command
an extensive view. Your maid awaits
you in your dressing-room, and will see that
you have everything that you stand in need
of. I advise you to take some rest now, as
you must he fatigued from the long drive.
When the dressing-hell rings, it will be time
enough for you to prepare for dinner, and
when dinner is ready, I will return to show
| you the way to the dining-room. Pray call
for anything that you want, and remember
that you are mistress here now. The castle
and all in it, are quite at your disposal."
Geraldine murmured her thanks, and, with
a slight inclination of the head, he left her,
jlosing the door after him as he moved away.
Mechanically she advanced, glancing around
ber new domain. The room she stood in was
elegantly fitted up as a boudoir, furnished in
blue and silver. A Persian carpet covered
the floor; sofas and ottomans, of the most
inviting description, were scattered about;
polished statuettes gleamed from the corners,
ind superb flowers, tastefully arranged in
mostly vases of Sevres china, filled the air with
;heir perfume. Beyond this was a sort of
mte-i'oom, hung with pictures, and containing
a piano and harp and two sets of shelves
filled with books; also a quaint-looking cabinet
of ebony, with glass doors, revealing sundry
curiosities within. Frolta this, a side
ioor opened into another narrow passage or
nail, crossing which, she entered a spacious
chamber, almost as richly furnished as the
foudoir, and containing every appliance of
luxury and comfort. Here, the drapery was
pale rose color inetead of bine, casting a soft,
ielicate tint over the whole apartment, and
lurtains of fine lac* shaded four large winlows,
looking West and South, upon the most
pictnresque portion of the grounds. As she
parted one of these lace hangings, to gaze out
ipon the view thus presented to her, a slow
itep approached, and turning, she saw a diglified
looking person advancing from the
lre8sing-room, who saluted her with a formal
-everence.
"If you please, I am your ladyship's maid,"
ihe announced in solemn tones. "Shall I aslist
you to remove your traveling dress,
10W?"
"Yes, I will lie down for a little while, for
[ am very tired," replied Geraldine. "What
s your nanfe ?" she added, as she followed her
lew attendant into the dressing room.
"My name is Meredith, if you please, my
ady."
"What an automaton," thought Geraldine,
is she watched her prim figure and stiff movenents.
However, the woman's face was honat,
though almost stern in its gravity, and
he hoped that in time she might find somehing
of a compauion and humble friend in
ier, a desideratum in this splendid but lonely
tome, where she foresaw that she would be
browD chiefly upon ner own resources ior
trauscment.
She wsb glad to stretch herself upon a couch
n the dressiog-room and seek a brief.rest of
>ody and mind, though the latter was Dot so
sasily attained. In the mean time her femme
le chambre moved about with noiseless steps,
mpacking her trunks and disposing of her
wardrobe as she thought fit, in the various
eceptacles destined for its accommodation.
By and by the dressing bell rang, and she
tarted up. Meredith was ready to attend
ler, having selected a dress of delicate blue
or her dinner tfear?just what she herself
vould have chosen, as the most becoming one
he owned, and uot too fine for the occasion.
"Have you any special wish in regard to
'our hair, my lady?" asked the maid, as she
Irew a low chair in front of the elegant miror
that surmounted ihe dressmg^aide. "T
:an arrange it in any style you fancy."
"I think I shall leave it to your taste for
he evening," replied her mistress, curious to
iscertaio if her taste iu hair-dressing would
' a.1 4 ? h UaJ how aalanHnn
(JUUI UlttL WI1IUII liau guiucu 11vi dvi??viuu wi
ippurel. She Was not disappointed in the
esult. Soon Mrs. Meredith's deft fingers, afer
brushing out the long silken tresses of pale
;old, over which they lingered with gentle
ind almost caressing touch, had woven a
tructure of braids, heavy and lustrous, in
imple yet most stylish form, about her wellhaped
head. And she was fain to confess to
terself, as she contemplated the effect, that
he had never s^en her image so pleusingly
eflected before. Quietly and without parade,
is she had accomplished this, the maul pro
leeded to her other duties. She was evidently
iu fait in her profession, and Geraldine felt
>erfectly safe in her hands.
"Shall you wear these, my lady, or these?"
he asked, laying down two sets of jewelry?
me turquoise, the other pearl?open before
ler when she had finished dressing.
"Neither, I thibk," replied GeAldine.
'There is no company expected, is there ?."
11 XT ^ T h n a m r\f mw ln/1v "
Aiut turn, X Auun VIJ, ...v. J
"Then just get me a flower instead."
It was not for Meredith to dispute her misress'
taste. In fact, she rather approved of
t, than otherwise. Silently she replaced the
ewels in their respective cases, and then going
uto the boudoir, selected from one of the
tevres jars, two half-blown roses, one crimson
md one white, and a cluster of geranium
eaves. These she wove artistically together
ind fastened at the side of Geraldine's luxuiant
braids, allowing the rich crimson biosom
just to show against the white curve of
ter throat Nothing could be more success'ul
than the effect, and Geraldine almost wonlered,
as she took a last look in the mirror,
rhether the Earl would think she looked well;
>ut then, she reflected, with a sigh, as she
1 . _ j ?. L - J:J O
urned away, wnat mauereu n u ue uiu i
liven at her beat, she never could be pretty
mough to satisfy his fastidious taste.
Punctually, as the Becond bell rang, Lord
Desborough knocked at his wife's door, and
iffered her his arm to conduct her to the
liuing-room.
"1 hope you found your attendance satisactory
?" he remarked, interrogatively, as
hey went down stairs.
"Perfectly satisfactory."
"Did you find things to your taste, in your
ipartraents?"
1 |? ?i:-J n?1
"JiiQtireiy so, repneu uumiumc , ouu dub
:ould not forbear adding, with some warmth,
'I must not fail to thank jou, my lord, for
he care you have bestowed on the arrange- j
nent of these rooms. Nothing could be more
asteful or more convenient; it is, in fact,
jerfect."
"I am delighted that it meets with your apjroval,"
said the Earl, calmly. Nothing
nore was said until they reached the dioingoom,
where they found a repast elegantly
erved, with four liveried attendants awaiting
heir entrance. His lordship led Geraldine
.0 the head of the table, and taking bis seat
it the opposite end, gravely invoked a blessng,
after which the silver covers were renoved,
and the meal began.
Tempting as were the viands set before her,
he poor bride could eat but little. What a
itrange, form ?1 affair was this?her first meal
tt her husband's board. No kind familiar
glances, no soft tones addressed to her in toten
of an understanding between them, o.rof
he Earl's satisfaction in ber presence. Only
i formal interchange of courtesies, such as
night have marked the intercourse of mere
icquaintances on friendly terms, and nothing
more. Nothing could exceed the polish, the j
refinement of Lord Deeborough's manner. ]
No sign of the most perfect good-breeding, or i
of a desire to pay scrupulous attention to bis 1
wife's comfort, was lacking; but it was like <
the glitter of sunlight upon ice, comfortless ]
and cold. He was more distant now, as it i
appeared to her, than he had been during i
their journey, when something of cordiality 1
had marked bis demeanor. Dinner was soon 1
over, for neither of them had much appetite. <
Dessert was placed on the table, and the ser- i
vants withdrew. Cut-glass dishes, heaped with 1
choice fruit; silver baskets of daintily com- ?
pounded sweets ; quivering jellies and spark- J
ling icea; and flasks of rare wine, formed an i
array of delicacies which Geraldine, inured to |
a long season of poverty and privation, view- 1
ed with unaccustomed eyes; but though the i
Earl carefully selected for her the choicest i
and most luscious of the fruits, and heaped (
her plate with a band as discriminating as it t
was lavish, she partook mechanically and !
without enjoyment of the feast, for the one ele- ]
ment was lacking which would have given a a
charm to the whole ; and though she had be- i
lieved herself, and still believed herself to be i
as absolutely indifferent to the Earl as be i
could be to her, yet an irrepressible longing 1
now seemed to possess her for the establish- t
ment of a different relation between them, for (
a ray of warmth to melt the chill barrier of 1
reserve that kept them so far apart. 1
"You have no appetite," remarked Lord e
Desborough, as they rose from the table. "You t
are, I fear, over-fatigued from our long I
journey." c
"Not at all," replied Geraldine. "I rested t
for a considerable time, in accordance with 1
your advice, after we came in, and now feel e
quite refreshed." ... t
"In that case," said the Earl, "you will, t
I presume, not object to grouting me a halfhour's
interview in the library. There are f
some things I particularly wish to-say to you, i
which had best be said at once, for the more c
speedy establishment of an understanding be- i
tween us." So saying he led the way into the t
next apartment, while Geraldine, with a beat- s
ing heart, silently followed. f
[to be continued.] t
? ?? J
potorg of #. toelwa.;
" , . ~ s
HISTORICAL SKETCHES v
OF THE g
Early Settlement of South Carolina, a
i
BT REV. ROBERT LATHAB. a
r f
RETREAT OF GENERAL GREENE.
0
We left Earl Cornwallis at Ramsoor's Mills, ^
in Lincoln county, N. C., and General Mor- 0
1 /..I
gan on tne east 8iae or ine i^aiawoa, neariy
opposite the camp of the British chieftain.
On the evening after the battle of the Cow- g
pens, Morgan commenced his retreat, and on v
the morning of the next day, at 8 o'clock, j
Qrmpollig act rmt in pnraiiif ton rlnpn ^
both armies toiled with all their energies. s
The Americans struggled that they might r
escape; and the British hastened the pursuit, j
that the prisoners captured at the Cowpens
might be rescued and their captors captured
or cut to pieces.
It was the dead of winter. There were few jroads,
and the country through which the e
armies passed was hilly?in some places j
mountainous?and the weather very bad. (
The consequence was that the progress of a
both armies was slow. The distance trav- e
afon/t Ko wna npnrlv poiiaI. On the 28th ?
;. ,
of January, Morgan crossed the Catawba at g
Island Ford. Two hours after his rear-guard 0
had reached the eastern bank, the van-guard (
of the British, under Brig.General O'Hara, j
appeared in sight. Morgan and his men t
were safe. The sun was setting. Dark and ^
ominous clouds covered the face of the sky. Q
The British General concluded to spend the (
night on the western bank of the river, cross t
early the next morning, rout the forces of a
Morgan, and rescue Tarleton's men who had g
been taken prisoners. During the night, the j.
rain feM in torrents, and by daylight the wa- a
ters of the Catawba had interposed an insur- Q
mountable barrier between the pursued and a
the pursuer. Thus for forty-eight hours the <]
waters of the river continued to leap over e
their banks, holding the anxious British Earl v
completely in abeyance. The rains contin- D
ued to fall, and the British were thoroughly r
drenched. The? were forced to fall back o
and kindle large fires in order to dry their g
wet baggage and powder. The headquarters* ^
of Cornwallis was at the house of Jacob For- 0
ney. The story of this man is too thrilling g
to be omitted. p
Jacob Forney was a descendant of the t
French Huguenots. His father, after the a
revocation of the edict of Nantes, in 1685, 0
fled from his native country and settled in ]j
Alsace on the Rhine. When his son Jacob a
was about four vears old, the elder Forney t
died. At the age of fourteen, young Forney, ],
now an orphan, left Alsace and* went to Am- j
sterdam. Here he heard glowing accounts v
of the new world. The tale which he heard c
of the sufferings of bis fathers fired his soul n
with a hatred for tyrants and a love of liber- p
ty, both political and religious. In the first 8l
ship bound for America, he took passage, t
and in due time landed on the shores of the "5
new world and took up his temporary abode 0
in Pennsylvania. A few years afterwards he tl
returned to Germany, in order to get possession
of a small legacy which had fallen to 51
him. His business arranged, young Forney 0
set out again for America. The vessel on t]
which he embarked had a number of emi- c
grants from Berne in Switzerland. Amongst A
these was a beautiful girl by the name of a
Maria Berger. Between Jacob Forney and 1(
Maria Berger an acquaintance was formed. C
This acquaintance was, in due time, matured b
into love. On arriving in Pennsylvania they e
were married, and in 1754 came to Lincoln \
county, N. C. *
Jacob Forney was, in his day, a pillar in g
his community. The Cherokee Indians fear-1 f<
ed him, and bis neighborhood depended upon *
him to defend them in every emergency. f<
So frequently had he been shot at by the In- n
dittos, and so often had his clothing been b
pierced by bullets without bis being wounded, ?
that his neighbors really believed that he ?
was bullet-proof. On one occasion, it was re- a
ported that after coming out of a fight with p
the Indians, he unbuttoned the bosom of bis \
coat and "near a peck of bullets fell out." v>
When Gornwallis wqp in pursuit of Morgan w
and found that he could not cross the Cataw- p
ba, on account of its being swollen by the re- o
cent rains, he came back to Jacob Forney's, b
&. tory by the name of Deck informed the
British Earl of the condition of Jacob Forley.
His house was about two miles from
;he main road, and, no doubt, was the best
)ne in the whole community at that time.
Every thing, we may suppose, was in abuhdince.
The house consisted of two stories and
i cellar. Ccniwallis made the upper story
lis headquarters. Here he devised, during
lis three days' stay, bis plans for future operations.
Forney's hogs, cows, chickens, corn, j
odder, and every thing which either man or |
lorse could eat, was appropriated without |
itiiit. This did not satisfy the invading foe.
Deck bad informed them that Forney had a
arge sum of money hidden somewhere on the
premises. This was true, at least in part
He bad a sum of money, which, at that day
ind in that community, was thought to be
;ery large. The legacy which he had received
in Germany had been saved. Some of
;he identical coin which he had brought with
lim to America, was still in his possession.
Djjigent search was,made for this money.
last, it, together with some jewelry, was
bund. Up to this time, Jacob Forney, makng
a virtue of necessity, had remained quiet
n the cellar. He was cow an old man, and
)eing found unarmed, the British did not disurb
him, further than- to drive him into the
iellar. So soon, however, as he learned that
lis money was found and hopelessly in the
lands of the enemies of his country, he lost
ill control of himself, and seizing his gnn,
hreatened to kill Cornwallis. This he would
lave done, had it not been for the prudence
>f his wife. He had actually began to as end
the stairs leading to the room occupied
>y Cornwallis. His wife pulled him down,
ind, through her persuasion, he waB induced
o desist from his bold but dangerous under*,
aking.
Deck, the tory, who acted as guide and in*
ormer for the British Earl, was a near neigh>or
to Forney. By some means it was found
.1 n ?i!.L I.A. it ^ Tk?L.
tut, as soon as toe Briuau ivn, me pari, xscu&
tad acted. He and Forney had been on inimate
terms, but Forney determined that he
hould be treated only as an enemy in the
uture. A messenger was sent by Forpey to
ell him that if he did not leave the country
mmediately, he would shoot him on first
ight. Deck knew that Forney meant all
hat he said. Still, for some reason, he did not
ee fit to leave the neighborhood at once. It
pas ascertained that he was concealing himelf
in the woods. Forney armed himself
md went in pursuit of his treacherous neightor.
One day he found him lying down fast
sleep. He raised his gun and was about to
ire. The thought occurred to him that he
>ught to awake him before killing him. This
le accordingly did. So soon as Deck was
roused from his slumbers and perceived his
i _ i? i. i? *i,? I
lernous condition, ue ueguu tu ucg> ??
aost suppliant manner, that his life might be
pared, promising, at the same time, that he
rould, if spared, leave the country at once,
^orney, altheugh greatly incensed on account
ft iue?wiouga w:rtcrh-u,?1. i -vc-u uwaia iu
uffer by Deck, spared his life, and he left,
lever more to be beard pf in the community,
facob Forney lived to 'see his country free,
;nd died loved and respected, in 1806, at the
idvanced age of eighty-five.
Immediately after the victory at the Cowyens,
General Morgan sent a courier to Genral
Greene, then encamped on Hick's creek,
u the present county of Chesterfield, South
>aroliua. On the 28th of January, Greene,
accompanied by one aid and two or three cavilry
raen, set out to join Morgan. The army
ras left in command of General Huger, of
South Carolina, aud Colonel O. H. Williams,
if Maryland. On the way, he learned that
iJornwallis was in hot pursuit of Morgan.
at once dispatched to Huger and Williams
o break up their camp and march, with all
lossible speed, to join Morgan at Charlotte
>r Salisbury. On the 31st of January,
Greene reached Sherrard'a ford, on the Ca*
awba. The distance between Hick's creek
,nd Sherrard's ford is about one hundred and
ifty miles. So soon as Greene arrived at the
leadquarters of Morgan, the two officers held
k conference respecting the future movements
f the army. What Morgan's plans were we
,re unable to say certainly, but they were
liferent from those proposed and put into
xecution by General Greene. The result
ras, Morgan submitted under protest, that in
10 way would he be accountable for the final
esultsof the plan proposed by hie superior.
?o this Greene replied that he, and not Mor;an,
was accountable for whatever might
ie the consequences of the future movements
f the army. It is very probable that Mor;an
never forgot this disagreement which took
ilace between him and Greene. A short
ime before the battle of Guilford, he left the,
rmy and never again rejoined it Greene,
n the contrary, continued to cherish, during
ife. the highest regard for Morgan, bcih i
, man and as an officer. The probability is
hat Morgan proposed to file to the left and
sad his troops to the mountain region of
forth Carolina. Greene, on the contrary,
ras anxious to unite his forces so that they
ould not be attacked and cut off in detach*
aenta. Another object he had in view was to
irotect Speedwell's iron works, on Trouble*
orae creek, North Carolina. After the det*
ruction of Hill's works on Allison oreek, in
rork county, South Carolina, no other works
f the kind, of any consequence, remained in
he South.
If we are correct in this supposition, the
uperior generalship of Greene over that
f Morgan, is manifest In no other way.
ban that chosen by Greene could the Ameri*
an forces have been made effective. Had
lorgan attempted to retreat beyond the
lountains, the probability is he would have
ast all the prisoners he had captured at the
Jowpens. This, in itself, would have been
ad ; but the depressing effect which such an [
vent would have had upon the minds of the
Vhigs, both in North and South Carolina,
'ould have been a great deal worse. With
reat promptness Greene made arrangements
>r the future movements of the army. Word
'as sent to Huger and Williams to lead the
)rces under their command to Guilford, and
otto Salisbury or Charlotte, as they had
een previously instructed. The prisoners
'ere put in charge of Gen. Stevens, to be
onducted to Charlottesville, Virginia. Here,
gain, we have an example of the military
ower of General Greene. The time of the
. ?j 01/
Virginia militia, which StevenB commanded,
'ould soon expire. This made it eminently
ise to select them as a guard to copduct the
risoners to a point at which they would be
ut of the reach of Cornwallis. The main
ody of the army under Morgan was ordered :
to advance in the direction of Guilford. The
North Carolina rnHitia, under the command
of Qen, Davidson, were stationed at the fords
on the river to impede the progress of the
British in crossing. This done, Gen. Greene
set out for Salisbury. Had this noble chief* >> i
tain never done any thing else, the planning
of this retreat, in so short a time, would have
placed him in the rank of the greatest military
heroes of his day. It shows that his
mind acted promptly and clearly.
Whilst the Amercan General was devising
plans by which he might unite his forces and
protect his country, the British General was
equally busy in devising schemes, by which
he might advance the interest of his royal
master. The rains had oeased, and the Catawba,
which separated the two armies, was felling
as rapidly as it had risen a few days be
- ri cj * ;?-. u L v, ^ ^ * \ t
fore. On the evening of the last day or Jannary,
the very day that Greene reached the
camp of Morgan,' Earl Cornwall^ ordered his
troops to be ready to inarch at one o'clock
the next morning. It was thought, by the
British Earl, thatGeneral Davidson, with the
Mecklenburg and Rowan militiajjrasstationed
at Beattie'sfor^ Colonel Webster was ordered
to tafetne thirty-third regiment, the
second battalion of thfe severity-first regiment,
Hamilton's corps of loyalists and yagers, the
six pounders and all the wagons belonging to
the army, and march directly to Beatrie's ,
fold. He was ordered to fire his cannon and
do every thing in bis power to draw the attention
of the Americans to him. At one in the
morning, Cornwallis, with' the main body of
| bis forces, set out for Cowan's, or McCowan's
I ford, six miles below Beattie's. This was a
private lord, and Cornwallis supposed that the
American officers would overtook it The
night was dark and the 'roads narrow and
mnddy. One of the three-pounders overset
in a swamp; This produce^ ia tbedarkhees,
no small confusion. The lme of maroh was
broken, the men became scattered, and thegonners,
in assisting to re-adjustthe three-pound
er that had overset, got separated from their
own guns. Just as day began to break the
British reached the river. Everything was
in a state of confusion. The threS-pounders
:if1 *7 nfiV jJai L:n_
were ot no use, irom ine raci mat io? artuiery-men
were some at one place And others at
another.;, , ;r
From the camp-fires on the opposite side
of the river, Cornwallis discovered that he
had erred in supposing that the Americans
wQuld neglect to place a guard at McCowan's
Ford. Determined to cross, Cornwallis ordered
Gen. O'Hara to form his guards into a
column and roareh into the river. The Catawba
was considerably swollen, and at this
ford more than a quarter of a mile wide. The
bottom of. the river was rocky and the ford
angling across it. The guards under O'Hara
were ordered not to fire until they reached
the opposite hank.. In the brave guards
plunged. In quick succession they were followed
by their fellow-soldier The cold water
reached to their wakta Tnfantrv and
cavu>ty uioveu aiotig"slowly bnt steadily.
Davidson and his men were on the opposite
side of the ford. 80 soon as the American
sentinel discovered the approach of the British,
he fired.his gun. This aroused the camp
of Davidson, which was distant some half a
mile. The men in Davidson's command were
concealed among the brushwood of the forest,
opposite the ford. Captain, afterwards General
Joseph Graham, commanded a company
in General Davidson's corps of militia, lbe^e
were the first to reaeh the bank sf the river
and open fire upon the enemy. The moment-' ' 9^m
Captain Graham's men commenced firing
upon the advancing British, the guide, who
waa a tory, fled. This was attended with no
little confusion, both to the British and Americans.
The British guards, under O'Hara, at
this moment, were near the middle of the
stream. The ford, instead of passing directly
across tlie river, turned at the point at which
the British had arrived, considerably down
the river. Colonel Hall, who was leading the
British van, not knowing this, and Jbeing de- "T
serted by his.tory guide, led the troops straight
across. This frustrated the plans of the Americans.
They were forced to make a quick
movement to the right and form in the new.
The change was made;asquickly as possible;
but the troops under Davidson being militia,
it was not effected until the van of the British,
under Colonel Hall, had nearly reached /
the bank. In the crossing of the river, the ^
British marched in platoons, that they might
support each other against the current of the
swollen waters.;' . ,r?
Although the British were not prevented
from crossing, still it cost them very considerably.1
Colonel Hall was killed just as he ascended
the bank. The horse on which Cornwallis
rode, was shot while in the river and fell,
Dlunffinir his rider in. the stream* and died as --S*
btjd as he had carried ilia master across the
river. Three privates were killed and thirtysix
wou tided. The American lota was trifling
in numbers bat severe, from the fact that the
.brave-aod; promising, General Davidson was
killed. , He was shot by a tory while changing
the position 2 of bis troops. So soon as the ymfl
main body of the British succeeded in 1
ing the river, the North Carolina militia, in }
obedience to the command of the officers, fled
to the woods. The body of General Davidsob
was found; af^er the enemy had passed on,
by Captain Wilson. - It was stripped of every
garment., Captain Wilson took it op before .
him, on his horse, and buried ft in Hopewell ^
graveyard. The Congress of the tfhited
States voted a monument to this noble man;
but. np monument has been existed* His
memory, however, is perpetuated by the College
in Mecklenburg county, North Carolina,
which bears his name. A county in the "Old /*
North" State has. also been honored with his name.
And, more than all, this, his name
?U1 be cherished until men forget to love
liberty.
J?* The Rev. Dr. Tyng, Jr., of New York, A
recently told his congregation, that if the
diesof his church would give up their thnSPP?$iw"
button gloves and wear one-button gloves instead,
enough money would jm saved to support
.an orphan house: whereupon, some of the
ladies suggested to their rector the possibility
of saving out of the cigar money of the male
members of the churc&rfrom the rector down,
enough to carry on one or two asylums. They
suggest also that three-button gloves do not
make# dirty or an unsavory odor, and
that thev have no deleterious effect on the
nerves of the ladiee who wear them ; while, on *
the other hand, the brethren woald be dee#. : - m
er, sweeter and healthier, if they would quit
the use of tobacco, and give to the.cause of the
orphans the money they now expend on this
carnal gratification. Rut the brethren cannot
see it through the smoky clouds' exhaled J&L
from their inoinerated Havanae.
ii ii ii 'in' iii i