Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, March 29, 1877, Image 1
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"VOL. 23. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MARCH 29, 1877. NO. 13.
???I ;
Sfflcctffl fflftig.
CLOUDS WITH SILVER LINING.
There's never a day so sunny
But a little cloud appears ;
There's never a life so happy
But has had its time of tears;
Yet the sun shines out the brighter
When the stormy tempest clears.
There's never a garden growing
With roses in every plot;
There's never a heart so hardened
But it has one tender spot;
We have only to prune the border
To find the forget-me-not.
There's never a cup so pleasant
But has bitter with the sweet; .
There's never a path so rugged
That bears not the print or feet;
And we have a Helper promised
For the trials we may meet.
There's never a sun that rises
But we know 'twill set at night;
The tints that gleam in the morning,
At evening are just as bright;
And the hour that is the sweetest
Is between the dark and light.
There's never a dream that's happy
But the waking makes us sad ;
There's never a dream of sorrow
But the wakiug makes us glad ;
We shall look tome day with wonder
At the troubles we have had.
?i. ?. Ttraxr on narrow
X iroi O 9 UOTVt ? f* Mi wv "
But the entranoe is made straight;
There's always a guide to point us
To the "little wicket gate
And the angels will be nearer
To a soul that is desolate.
There's never a heart so haughty
But will some day bow and kneel;
There's never a heart so wounded
That the Saviour cannot heal;
There's many a lowly fbreheid
That is bearing the hidden seal.
There's never a day so sunny
Bat * little cloud appears;
There's never a life so happy
But has bad Its time of tears;
Yet the son shines out the brighter
When the stormy tempest clears.
Jta Original Jfaig.
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
JULIAN MORVILLE'S BRIDE;
OR,
- e /\n T AIT 11
Tflil WW Lit Ut iiU V Jti.
CHAPTER V.
ROSE AND EVELYN.
In the pleasant society of his little daughters,
of whom he was devotedly fond, Sir John,
for & while, almost forgot the trouble which so
oppressed bis heart Still he was at intervals
grave and pre-occupied, and at length Evelyn,
who was hanging over his knee, impatiently
exclaimed?
"Papa, you wont talk and laogh properly
tonight What are you thinking about? I
shall give Roger a scolding for putting you in
such a bad humor."
"I am not io a bad humor, my little girl,"
replied the baronet forcing a smile as he
stroked her brown curls back from her fore"Cooiwri
w?q hiq net. She was a tease
ucau. xifviju t.^v ...? j
and a romp, but had more clinging, caressing ,
ways than her sister, who was quieter and
more thoughtful, and already seemed a woman
in miniature.
"Theo you are ill; you have a headache, or
something naughty, I am sure." ,
"No, I am not ill. I have been suffering
from a worse ailment than a headache, Evelyn?one
which I trust you will never experience,"
rejoined her father, looking seriously
into the beautiful dark eyes upraised to his.
Rose glanced quickly up from her work?a
doll's garment she was busily engaged in
manufacturing, as she sat on a low chair in
the opposite corner of the fireplace. Her face
was full of solicitude, but she said nothing.
"What ailment, papa?" asked Evelyn.
"The heartache, my dear child."
"The heartache! Now, papa! What do
you mean ? Please don't talk in tbat gloomy
way," cried Evelyn, half pettishly, for her gay
nature revolted at anything like sadness.
Rose laid down her sewing, and quietly moved
her chair to her father's side. She asked no
question, but fixed her earnest, inquiring gaze
into bis face.
"My pets," said the baronet, after a little
pause, "I have been unwilling to sadden your
merry hearts with the knowledge of a misfortune
which is hanging over us, and have borne
it in secret as long as I could; bat it will be
impossible to conceal it from you much longer,
and I may as well tell you of it now as at any
other time. Rose, you are wise and thoughtful
beyond your years. I can speak to you
almost as I could have done to your dear
mother, if she had been spared to be with me
now ; and I am sure you will help me bear
this great trial patiently, and soften it to your
sister also. Children, we shall be obliged soon
to leave Lyndhurst. I have met with heavy
losses, and can no longer afford to keep our
dear old home. Whither we shall go, I have
not jet been able to decide, but I shall have
to make up mv raiod before many days."
"Leave Lyudhurst!" murmured Rose,
clasping her hands. Evelyu threw back her
^curls with a mocking laugh.
"You are jesting, papa?you must be," she
impetuously exclaimed. "You would not
take us away from here."
"I would not, indeed, if I could help it,"
answered her fhtber, sadly. "But, unhappily,
Evelyn, it is no jest"
"Why, papa, you are a rich man?you have
been rich all yonr life," said the child, eagerly.
"I heard Mrs. Glenn say to Maria one
day that you were the richest gentleman in the
country, and that Rosie and I would be great
heiresses, and could marry whoever we
pieasea wneu we werogruwu up.
"Mrs. Glenn was very foolish to make such
a speech; and you acted very wrongly, Evelyn,
in listening to servants talk," said the
baronet. "At all events, though I was rich
once, I am so no longer. I am all but ruined,
and we shall have to make a complete change
and live quite differently from the way in
which we have lived hitherto."
"Do you mean that we are poor?poor like
Mr. Smythe, the curate, who keeps only a
maid-servant, and works in his own vegetable
garden?"
The tone of dismay in which the question
was asked brought a smile to Sir John's face,
unhappy as he felt.
"If I sell this place, Evelyn, and clear off
all my debts, I shall still have a small fortune
left to start on afresh. Very small, compared
with what I have lost, though perhaps a little
larger than Mr. Smythe's, We shall not be
reduced to actual poverty, but we must live
carefully, and cut down all unnecessary ex-1
penses, to enable us to get on in comfort and j
lay aside something for the future."
"Soil Lyndhurst! Do you really mean,
papa, that you will have to do that? I
thought you meant, perhaps, that you would
rent it to some one for a few years, as Col.
Gresham did his place when he went to live
on the Continent, and then come back to it
again," said Rose.
"No, my love, I shall be oompelled to sell
it It is, you know, a most valuable estate,
and will bring me a great deal of money.
With a part of this I shall be able to pay off
all I owe, which I could not otherwise do.
You would not like any reproach to rest upop
my name, wopld you ? If I did not honorably
discharge my debts, people would think badly
of me, and I should deserve their blame. I
am quite sure that you would not, either of
you, wish me to act in such a way as to make
me feel ashamed of myself in failing to do my
duty?" . 7 '
"How did you get into debt, papa ?" asked
Evelyn, who with folded hands and knitted
br.ows, was now listening very intently to his
words.
"You would not clearly understand, if I
should explain it to you, my dear. One thing
I may tell you, and that is, I have doiienothing
wrong?notbiog culpable, I mean. I
have been very foolish, very unwise, in putting
trust in a Company which has proved
unworthy to be trusted. And it has deceived
and cheated all who believed in it, ana
brought them into trouble."
"How I hmto tbirt Company, whatever it
is! I should like to kill all t^q people belonging
to it," cried, Evelyn, clenching her
little hands, while her glittering eyes and
crimsoned cheeks gave emphasis to her words.
Rose sat pale and silent, her eyes brimming
with tears which she would not allow to fall.
Her father's announcement had descended
upon her like a thunderbolt, and her heart
was too full for words.
"Don't speak so vindictively, Evelyn. I
have been greatly wronged, but you know
the Bible bids us forgive 'bur;enemies," said
the poor baronet, who bad been struggling
honestly, but (it mu"t be confessed) rather
unsuccessfully thus far, to bring his own mind
to that state of Christian charity which he
koew was enjoined upon him.
"Where shall we go, when we leave here ?"
was Evelyn's next inquiry.
"That is just the point which I am most
anxious to have settled," answered her father.
"You two would not like, I suppose, to to
1 1' * ' T moan llnttl
ft Doaramg-scauui *ur a uu*^ a ujcmuj uuv*?
I could get matters arranged t"
"A boarding-school! It would be hateful,"
cried the vehement Evelyn, while Rose, clasping
and kissing her father's band, whispered
entreatingly, "Let us Btay with you, papa,
dear papa! Please don't send us away I"
"Well, darlings, it shall be as you like,"
responded the indulgent father. "But let me
tell you, I have very nearly made up my
mind to leave England, and go to some distant
country, where I may work and grow
rich again. I am afraid you would not be
pleased to do that. Would you not prefer to
stay in England, if I could find a pleasant
home for you to live in until I came for you ?"
"No," said both the girls simultaneously ;
and again Rose's soft little fingers pressed
the hand she held, with an eloquence of per
suasion quite as forcible as speech ; while ?Jvelyn,
half-strangling her father with her erabraces,
kissed again and again his care-lined
brow.
"I'll go with you, papa! I don't care if
it's to Africa, or New Zealand, or Robinson
Crusoe's island. I shan't be left behind, so
you needn't want me to be. If I can't stay at
Lyndhurst, I don't care where I am, so long
as I'm with you."
The baronet gently returned her caress, and
then freed one hand to rub the moisture from
his eyes. Here was something to live for, at
all events. While he had his children's affec
tion to cheer his heart, the world could never
be all dreary and dark.
"There?now don't let us talk any more
about it," cried Evelyn, as variable in her
moods as the lights and shadows of an April
day; and slipping down from her father's
knee, she seized her sister by the hand.
"Come, Rosie, let's play forfeits and stop looking
so glum and grave. Or stall we have a
dance instead ?"
"Dance! I can't play or dance now?how
can you feel like it?" was Rose's reproachful
rejoinder. "Do, Evie, let us be quiet for a
little; I just want to thinki
"Think?no, you must not think?nobody
must think about horrid, disagreeable things
T i .L;
any more this evening, ijook, papa, tuis nun
the new figure Sophie Gordon learned last
week at dancing-school. She taught it to me
yesterday, only I ought to have a wreath in
my hand. "Aud Evelyn suddenly dashed off
into a wildt fantastic dance, looking, as she
swept and whirled about, with her curls flying
about her shoulders, her cheeks crimson,
and her slim little arms waving above her
head, like some enchanting sprite in a revel
of fairyland. Her father was astonished, and
her sister shocked at.thig untimely display of
gayety; and the emotions of both, apparently
were re-produced in the mind of Roger Martin,
who just then was shown by a servant into
the study, aud who stood for a moment
near the door, gazing at Evelyn as if he
thought she must suddenly have gone crazy.
"Ah! here is Roger. Now, my dears, I
shall be obliged to look over some business
papers,and I thiuk you had both better go to
bed," said Sir John. Rose silently kissed him
good-night, shook hands with Roger, and retired.
Evelyn whirled once again around the
? ^ ? " > nrthinnoI vr a KAII f hor
room, UUUg HCI at iuo iiupcmuuoij uuuuv ?iwt
father io another stifling embrace, then seizing
Roger by both hands exclaimed, "Ride
me once, Roger, just once through the hall
and up stairs, please do ! Papa got home so
late I missed my gallop on Fillbert, so I must
make you ray horse instead."
"Evelyn, you are quite too old now to be
such a romp," exclaimed the baronet reprovingly
; but Roger only laughed, and stooping
down, helped her climb up to his shoulder.
From her babyhood, one of her favorite pastimes
had been to "make Roger her horse,"
and the old steward loved her too dearly to
refuse her any iudulgence, though he said, as
he passed the door-way?
"Just see now, Miss Evelyn, how tall you
have grown ; a young lady eleven years old
ought to have more dignity than to be riding
on folks' shoulders?Miss Rose wouldn't do
it."
When Roger returned, aud sat down to assist
Sir Jobu in arranging his papers, the baronet
said, with a sigh?
"How volatile that child is 1 Would you
believe it, Roger, I had just been telling her
of my losses, and of being obliged to leuve
home, when she commenced flying about in
that madcap style. Poor little Rose could
not recover from the blow at all; she feels it
deeply,"., ? j. ....
"The other one feels it too, sir, depend upon
it," said Roger, sagely. "But she ain't one ?
to show all that's in her heart." ?
Roger was right. Sometime after the two
little girls had gone to bed, Rose, who was
lying quietly awake in the darkness, revolv- Ei
ing in her mind, in a womanly fashion, all
sorts of little plans for helping her fatherand
making the strange life before them easier to
bear, was suddenly startled by the Bound of ^
convulsive but suppressed sobbing, and quick- .'
ly turning to put her arms around her sister, W1
found her with her face bidden upon her pil- ^
low, in am agony of tears, which she had only
suffered to find vent when she supposed Rose VI<
to be fast asleep.
"Eviel dearEvie! don't cry?please don't ^
cry so! Hush, hush, my darling?my own _
pet, you frighten me, yon are quivering all ^
Qver. You will give yourself such a headache
you will be ill." M
I want to be ill?I want to be dead!" W<
sobbed Evelyn. "I'd rather die and be bu- jej
ried at Lyndhurst than go anywhere else to ^
live. I ahull dio if I iiorc to go I*
will break my heart." ^
The calm, loving elder sister soothed and ^
caressed her. holding her in her arms m a .
mother might have done, while she tenderly
murmured words of consolation and hope, until
weariness overcame them both, and they j
feel asleep on one pillow, Evelyn's still tearful
cheek nestled upon the shoulder of her gQ
comforter. No prettier sight did the moon jjg
see that night, as it shone in upon them Tg
through the latticed window of their white- ^
curtained room, find touched with a tender
glocy the brown curly heads, the childish fig- g0
ures so closely clasped, and the fyir, innocent
faces like blossoms on one stem. A picture wj
of holy sisterly love, a love that was to
strengthen and matu^with each new hour (je
of their lives, and was even now gaiuiag&fjshL ^
power, though they divined it not, from the 0Q
new bond now knit between them?the hitherto
unknown bond of a common sorrow. 0f
*****
. thl
That evening's conversation between Sir q(
John Lyndhuret and his steward, decided the fcjg
former in regard to his course. He gradual- ^
ly brought Roger round to his own way of
thinking, so far as to admit that, perhaps, in a
new country, he would stand the fairest chance ^
of retrieving his fortunes, which in the old tr^
country he could not hope ever to do. So it ^
was definitely settled that he should emigrate
to California. He had been greatly impress- jQ^
ed by certain descriptions of the mines there,
with which the newspapers had lately been m(
teeming, and he felt a conviction that wealth g^
was floating in the very atmosphere of that jn
enchanted region. His friend and adviser by yy
no means shared his enthusiasm on this point. aQ
Still, he acknowledged that "where gold and ^
silver was in such plenty, it seemed only rea- jn
sonable to hope that he might come in for a
share of it." And the baronet, getting out
map3 and pamphlets, with which he had am* Qf
ply provided himself, grew eager while tracing ,
and locating certain peculiarly tempting rg(
spots, and reading glowing extracts pertain- gj
ing to the same, while his companion looked roj
and listened, offering but scanty commentary
save in the shape of an occasional grunt.
"Well," at last exclaimed Sir John, leaning
back in his chair, and pushing his spectacles
up on his forehead, as the clock chimed yy
the miduight hour, "I feel easier, now that flei
my mind is positively made up. 'Twill be a gj(
hard wrench, tearing myself away from the CQI
old place, but the sooner it's over the better. ^
But Roger, I wish now to know something of
your plans?have you decided yet upon your e(j
future occupation, or will you spend the rest ]jD
of your days in well-earned ease and leisure? f0,
In the latter case, I suppose you will go to |jD
your brother in Suffolk." pn
"No, I shan't go to ray brother, Sir John. pj(
He has a large family, and don't need my th<
company, nor I his." yj(
"Well, where shall you go ?" an
"To America," was old Martin's grim reply. ^
"America ! Roger ! You cannot mean?" M
"IVo Into Sir John?nut twelve o'clock."
? r , oc?
qnoth Roger, jumping up in a hurry, "and I
must be getting home. But one thing I'd leg
like to Bay before I bid you good-night, and Mi
i it's this. If you thick you're going to shake a
yourself free of Roger Martin's company at 01
this time o'day, after we've been together the sw
better part of a lifetime, you are just about G(
as completely mistaken as ever you were in up
| your life. May-be you can do without me? th<
i it's likely enough you can?but I can't do ha
without you, and I mean to stick by you, m<
wages or no wages, through thick and through ari
thiu, till that trumpet blows which'll call you it
or me away from this world to a better, where mi
We won't need one another any more. That's Gi
my resolve.-' And so good-night to you, sir, 01
and I wish you pleasant dreams." And be- hu
! fore the baronet could find words, Roger seised bl<
his hat, and sped out of the house, leaving ab
his master transfixed with astonishment, and
other emotions almost impossible to describe, shi
[to be continued.]
ele
A Cheerful Home.? Ood requires a pa- ge,
rent to make a cheerful attractive home. In the
pressure of business the tendency among us
is to neglect home life. Home is made dreary on
and repeliant, and the child finds his chief br;
j attraction abroad. This is a fatal mistake, to'
i For when the love of home has perished cr<
j from the heart of a child, then the first step gg,
I is already taken in a career of sin. Repelled Wfi
; from home, he is driven to other associations, ~
and often seeks in the saloon, the theatre, or
the haunt of vice, that recreation God meant
. him to have in his own mother's house, thi
Many a son,, who might have been saved to soi
j a noble life, has been driven by a cheerless M
home, to dissipation and ruin. pj
Now, Christian parent, God meant you
should make your house the most attractive *a
1 place on earth te your children. However uo
hutnble, it should still be cheerful, joyous. 8U<
Religion at home should not be cold, morose, ou
gloomy and repellant; hut genial, joyous?a in
i perpetual joy beaming from the eye, lighting na
up the countenance, and thrilling in the very
tones of the voice. Make your home sunshiny
and happy. The young heart is boiling
over with glee and frolic. God made it
so; and you should provide the means of iu- of
I nocent recreation. Youth is the period of on
j impression and imitation, when refined tastes, ha
I uohle sympathies, and holy aspirations are
i most readily developed. Provide, then,
hooks, and papers, and pictures, and flowers P*
at home,?every appliance to awaken and ,s
strengthen all that is pure and nohle in them. ru
Let your children feel that their father's hit
.house is the dearest, happiest spot on earth, thi
and as they pass into life's activities and re hii
sponsihilities, let them remember the home of a^(
j their childhood, not by its hitter words and
hard drudgery, where they simply ate and c.?
drank, and slept, .but as the sunniest spot in eit
alh the past, where their sweetest and holiest ki
I .ftffectiopa gather,,:....i j ?r
fistotg flf (tolitra.
HISTORICAL SKETCHES
OF THE
arly Settlement of South Carolina.
BY BEV. BOBEBT LATHAH.
THE 8ECOND BATTLE OF CAMDEN.
At Ramsey's mill, on Deep river, General
reene consulted with the officers in his army
th reference to the proper course to be pured.
Cornwallis was gone. Evidently, the
ritish, although boasting that they were
ctorious, were not disposed to meet Greene
ain. The majority of the officers in Greene's
my advised that the pursuit of Cornwallis
continued, either by advancing directly to
ilmington, or by placing the American
rces between Wilmington and Virginia, so
to a hi? to nrevent the advance of Corn
illis in that direction.
Colonel Lee proposed that Cornwallis be
% to act as be saw fit, and that the Amerin
army be led back into 80nth. Carolina
r the purpdsrorrestoring that State to the
merican onion. The debate was warm on
tb sides,-and many strong arguments were
vanced by the advocates of each plan. The
urse proposed and advocated by Col. Lee
is finally adopted. The details of the
lieme were that the main army, under Gen.
*eene, should march directly to Camden,
uth Carolina, while Colonel Lee, with the
;ht corps under his command, should adnce
farther south and join Gen. Marion,
en on Black river, in Williamsburg county.
For the purpose of keeping the State of
uth Carolina in sabjeotion, as well as for
e purpose of supplying their own troops
th food and clothing, the British had estabbed
a chain of forts extending from Camn
to Ninety-Six. The plan proposed by
?. contemplated a simultaneous attack upall
of~ these forts. Since the defeat or
itea, on the 16th of ^uguStpt780t^he State
South Carolina had been under the heelTjf '
b British. After Cornwallis, in pursuit of
sneral Greene, had left the State, small paran
corps were raised which kept up the aparance
of resistance. Marion, with a few
lowers, operated in the east and south east
stions of the State. Such, however, was
a character of the inhabitants of the counr
in which he operated, that he was unable
effect any thing decisive in its results.
In that portion of South Carolina, extendy
from Richmond and Robeson counties,
)rth Carolina, to the Santee, there were a
iltitude of tories. In this section of the
ate there have ever been gangs of robbers.
the same region there were many good
higs, who suffered as much for liberty as
y other individuals in the Confederacy. All
at Marion and the Whig settlers could do
the absence of the main army, was to keep
?e tories partially in subjection. To do
is was not a bloodless task. For the sake
liberty, many good men lost their lives.
Sumter, having recovered from the wound
:eived at the battle of Blackstocks, collecta
chosen band and struck terror into the
nds of the tories in the centre of the State,
lonels Harden and Baker kept up a spird
resistance in the region south of Charles).
The State was overrun, but not subdued.
ie tories were reveling in lust and the
higs were burning with rage. The more
? " -? 1 1? ^ /Ml-J !*L
tsinie or tne loyalists were uneu wim
)oray apprehensions. Such, briefly, was the
adition of things in South Carolina during
3 winter of 1780-81.
At Ramsey's mill, General Greene dismissal!
his militia except a few North Caroians.
Arrangements were rapidly made
1 the return of the army into South Caroa.
Greene sent a genera] outline of his
aposed plan of operation to Sumter and
ckens. Both were ordered to collect all
3 men they could and prepare for active aerie.
Sumter was ordered to join the main
my at Camden, and Pickens was instructed
make an attack upon Ninety-Six, or to
environ it that reinforcements could not be
it from that place to Camden.
On the 6th of April, Colonel Lee, with bis
;ion and Captain Oldham's detachment of
arylauders, set out to join Marion. After
successful march of eight days, Lee and
dbam reached Marion's hiding place in the
amps of Black river. On the 7th of April,
meral Greene, with the main army, broke
camp at Ramsey's mill. On the 19th,
ij reached Camden. Before Cornwallis
d left Winnsboro, Lord Rawdon bad comjnced
to fortify Camden. When Greene
rived in the vicinity of the town, he found
well fortified, and Lord Rawdon in comind
of nine hundred effective men. Gen.
-eene, after the detachment under Lee and
dbam had been sent ofH had only fifteen
ndred men. With this force, he was una3
to carry the place by storm; nor was he
le to besiege it with any hopes of euccess.
The town of Camden is situated in Keraw
county, on the left bank of the Wateree
rer, and about one-half mile distant. It is
svated above the level of the river about
renty-five feet Between the river and the
ivn, flows Belton's branch on the east, and
the south flows Pinetree creek. Belton's
anch flows into Pinetree creek, south of the
pu, a short distance from where Pinetree
jek empties into the river. On the west,
jth and east, the town is surrounded by
iter, and on the north the tributaries of
ilton's branch and little Pinetree creek nearmeet.
Camden is the oldest inland town in
e State of South Carolina. Here, in 1760,
roe Quakers, from Ireland, settled. Robert
ilbouse and Samuel Wylie erected mills on
netree creek, and for many years the place
is called Piuetree. About 1760, Colonel
seph Kershaw having, for some years, been
ccessfully engaged in merchandising, laid
t the place in regular lots and streets, and
honor of Lord Camden, gave it its present
me. Its first charter was granted in 1769.
jrth of Camden, and about one mile disit,
is a considerable elevation called Hobrk's
Hill. Descending the southern slope
this elevation, General Greene encamped,
the 19th of April, at Logtown, within one
If mile of the British entrenchments.
Lord Rawdon had been informed of the apoach
of General Greene. He was astonted,
having beard that General Greene was
ined. Such, however, was the strength of
s position and so strongly was he fortified,
at the approach of Greene's array gave
m very little uneasiness. General Greene,
ier reconnoitering, and finding that he
uld effect nothing with his present force,
her By siege or storm, fell back to Hobrk's
Hill, with theiutention of awaiting the
rival of Sumter. , !. , in,
Previous to the arrival of Greene, Eawdon
had sent out Colonel Watson, with four or 1
five hundred men, to watch the movements of i
Marion. On the 21st, General Greene heard i
that Colonel Watson was marching, with all 1
possible dispatch, up the Santee, in order to
join Rawdon at Camden. Greene at onoe i
concluded that it was incumbent on him to
prevent the junction of Rawdon and Watson.
To eflfect this, it was deemed advisable to intercept
Watson at a considerable distance from
Camden. General Greene, with a sufficient
number of men, set out forthwith to accomplish
this design. He crossed Sand Hill
creek, and on the 22nd encamped east of i
Camden on the road leading to Charleston. <
Finding that the artillery could not be transported
across the swamps, it was sent back
tinder Colonel Carrington, in the direction of
Lynch's creek. Here, it was thought, it
would be safe from the enemy. General
Greene soon learned that he had been falsely
informed respecting the movements of Colo
nel Watson. This being the case, be return-1
ml to notoklr k'o HiH tk? 32?J. Ooltmct
Carrington and the artillery arrived on the
morning of the 24th.
Although General Greene had no appre- i
bension that Lord Eawdon would attack him,
nor did he design making any aggressions on
the enemy until after the arrival of Sumter,
still his army was encamped in order for bat- 1
tie. The Waxhaw road, the road leading i
through the Waxhaw settlement to Salisbury, I
passed direotly over Hobkirk's Hill. On the I
west of the road, was encamped Huger's Vir- i
ginia brigade; on the east of the road, was !
Colonel Williams' Maryland brigade. The ]
light troops, under Kirkwood, formed a pick- 1
et line in front In the rear was placed Col. i
Washington's cavalry and the North Caroli- i
na militia. In the rear of Williams and be- ]
tween the two lines was the reserves under ;
Gen. Greene himself. On the left, or east of '
the American camp, less than a mile distant, i
was Little Pinetree creek; on the right, or i
west wasthfr-Wateree river, le^thaojtgtty
miles distant The position was favorable for <
resisting an attack. The American army was 1
encamped in a line extending across the neck I
of land which lies between the Wateree river .
and Little Pinetree creek. i
On the 23rd, Captain McKay, the com- i
mandant of Fort Watson, at Wright's Bluff,
nn ftio Qanfoa in f!larandnn nnnnt.v. wax fnrfN i
ed to surrender to Lee and Marion. Anum
ber of the prisoners captured had, at one time, e
been in the American army. In order that
they might escape the doom which awaits the
deserter, they stated that haviog fallen into
the hands of the enemy, they joined the British
army that they might have a better opportunity
of again entering the service of their
country. Among this class of prisoners was
a drummer by the name of Jones, a native of
Maryland. Jones, together with the prisoners
who had once been American soldiers, were
sent to General Greene. They arrived at the
American camps sometime during the 24th.
Some time during the same night, Jones deserted
and made good bis escape to the enemy.
From him, Lord Rawdon learned the
condition of things in the American camp.
He learned that Fort Watson had capitulated,
that Greene was daily expecting strong
reinforcements under Sumter, and that he was
without supplies. He was also told that Col.
Carrington was absent, with the artillery, from
Greene's camp. Carrington had returned to
to camp when Jones left, but unknown to the
latter. '
Id view of all the circamstance3 by which
be was surrounded, Lord Rawdon concluded
that something must be done to sustain the
sinking cause of the British. Of Cornwallis
he knew nothing, and he saw that unless
some stop was put to the progress of the
American partisan leaders, he would soon be
cut off from Ninety-Six and Charleston, and
be forced, for the want of supplies, to surrender.
On the morniDg of the 25th, he armed
every man who was able to carry a gun.
Even the musicians and drummers were ordered
into ranks. His fortifications and
baggage were committed to the care of the
sick and tories who had congregated in the
town.
""About two o'clock in the morning. Raw- ^
don, with all bis available force, marched out [
of town for the purpose of attacking the 8
Americans. Every move was made with the c
utmost silence. Taking the road leading to *
Pinetree creek, he filed to the left, leading his 1
forces close to the stream. The whole region, r
north and north-east of Camden, was at that (
time a dense forest Such was the order pre- t
served by the British forces, that the Ameri- v
cans did cot discover their approach until a 1
portion of them had gone beyond the pickets, 1
and were opposite the Americans' left flank. 8
The picket line, commanded by Captain Ben- ^
son, of Maryland, and Captain Morgan, of e
Virginia, supported by the remains of the c
Delaware regiment under Kirkwood, did not
discover the advance of the enemy until they 8
had arrived within less than five hundred 8
yards of the American camp. Had it not *
been for the peculiar nature of the ground, 1
the Americans would have been completely *
surprised. J
Colonel Carrington had brought in with 1
him an abundant supply of provisions, and *
rations had been issued to the soldiers but a ?
short time before the British made their up- v
pea ranee. General Greene and his suite were '
leisurely eating their breakfast, under the *
shade of the trees near Martin's spring, a t
short distance east of the road. Some of the 1
soldiers were cooking, others were washing 1
A? J ?*???? fliAm TiTAiiA lninrv \
Wieir (ilUtUCB, auu UJBUjr Ut tuciu ngiu IJ1U|
idle about camp. The horses were unsaddled, c
and nothing was in readiness for battle ex- I
cept that the several divisions of the army
were properly located. ^
The first intimation that General Greene re- t
ceived of the advancing of the British, was s
announced by the firing of the British van 1
into the American picket line. The Ameri- ?
cans laid aside everything and prepared for jj
battle. The baggage was ordered to Huge- j
ley's, some eight or nine miles in the rear. t
The American army was soon ready to meet c
the enemy, and notwithstanding the unexpec- 8
tedness of the attack, General Greene felt B
confident that he would gain a complete vie- ^
tory. Such being his calculations, he order- f
ed Colonel Washington to turn the euemy's t
right and charge upon them in the rear. t
In the meantime, the pickets fought brave- t
ly, disputing every inch of ground until ?
Rawdon advanced with his whole force, and T
Kirkwood was forced to fall back into line. ^
The brigade on the American right, com- j,
roanded by General Huger, was led by Lieu- 8
tenant-Colonel Richard Campbell and Cap- c
tain Hayes. That on the left, commanded by
Colonel Otho H. Williams, was led by Colonel
Gunby and Lieutenant-Colonels Howard
and Ford. The artillery was placed under
Colonel Harrison, and so situated as to command
the road. The North Carolina militia,
about two hundred and fifty, who were stationed
in the rear, under Colonel Washington,
were commanded by Colonel Reade.
The King's American volunteer Regiment,
formed the British right; the sixty-third
Regiment was on the left, and the New York
Volunteers composed the centre. The British
right was supported by Robertson's corpe,
and the left by the Irish Volunteers. As the
enemy's forces advanced, presenting a narrow
front, Campbell and Ford were ordered to
turn his flanks, while Gunby, with the Maryland
regiment, was directed to attack his centre.
Lord Rawdon, on discovering Greene's
plans, strengthened his position by ordering
the Irish volunteers into line and thus extending
his front
The battle commenced on the British left,
tbo rights~ General Graana,
aided by Huger, Campbell and Hawes, led
the two Virginia regiments. The Virginians
stood firm, and even drove tbe enemy deck,
whilst Colonel Washington, with his cavalry,
was carrying every thing before him on the
British right. Col. Harrison, in the centre,
was thinning the ranks of tbe British with the
artillery. At this juncture of affairs, Gunby's
Maryland regiment rushed forward with
Bxed bayonets. The British began to falter,
and Colonel Hawe9 was ordered to charge the
New York Volunteers. To all human appearances,
victory was about to declare in favor
of the Americans. Just at this important
moment, Captain William Beatty, who commanded
the right battalion of Gunby's veteran
regiment, was killed, and his command
paused, and soon the whole regiment gave
way. Colonels Williams, Gunby and Ford
all endeavored to stop it, but failed. In the
attempt, Ford was mortally wounded and
rttfripfi to t,h?Lrear. Gunbvjfinding that he
could not restore the regiment to order on the
Held, ordered it to fall back to the rear and
;hen form. This order proved most ruinous,
is the American regiment fell back, the Britsh
rushed forward with a shout, and soon the
vhole American army began to retreat
Colonel Washington, at this moment was
n the rear of the British, striking terror in
ivery direction. When the retreat commencid,
he had no less than two hundred prisoiers.
When he learned that General Greene
vas retreating, he paroled the British officers
te had captured, and taking with him fifty
>risoners, cot his way to Greene with the loss
fi _ . 1 il
ii oniy inree men.
So soon as General Greene saw that it was
lecessary to withdraw his troope, Hawes was
irdered to cover the broken lice. The Brit*
sh pursued and kept up, at intervals, the acion
until about four o'clock. The Americans
had crossed Sanders' creek, four miles
roro the battle ground. At this point Cololel
Washington, with his cavalry and the
tforth Carolina militia, turned upon the purging
foe. He charged, with characteristic
ury, the New York volunteers, killing nine
ind scattering the whole. Here the British
Irew off, and the fight ended. The Americans
encamped for the night two miles north
if Sanders' creek, and the British returned
0 Camden. The dead were left on the battle
ield.
The loss in killed, wounded and missing,
vas nearly equal on both sides. The Amercan
loss was two hundred and sixty-six ; that
if the British two hundred and fifty-eight.
Very few, on either side, were killed. The
British loss, in killed, was thirty-eight ,* that
if the Americans enly eighteen,. but two of
hese were Celonel Ford and Captain Beatty,
>oth gallant officers.
Never was any officer more disappointed
1 ?? ? OiiAAnA in 4ka Mflnlfa nf I
null WW V1CUU1 Ql VJI & O^uo iu iiuu avois.*t?7 vs
his battle. From the firing of the first gun
>y the pickets, which announced the approach
if the enemy, he calculated, with certainty,
in a glorious victory. Evidently, the pivot
ipon which the results of the battle turned
vas Gunby's regiment Had it stood firm, it
s highly probable that the victory in favor of
Greene would have been complete. The monent
it faltered, the scales began to turn, and
o soon as it began to fall back in disorder, the
lay was lost to Greene. The conduct of Gun?y's
regiment on this occasion was very renarkable.
It was regarded as the choice
egiment in the southern army. At the
}owpens and at Guilford Court House, it
tad fought bravely. At Hobkirk's Hill, there
i&s some defect about the manner in which
he regiment was led into battle. About this
natter Greene was displeased with Gunby,
md Gunby was displeased with Greene.
iVhat was the exact character of the difference
of opinion between these two officers we
tan not now learn.
Without censuring. we ma? be permitted to
ay that Geo. Greene, under the circumstances,
attempted too much at once. That the vie*
ory might be complete, he so led his troope
nto battle that a simultaneous attack would
>e made upon the whole front and rear of the
British. This was an admirable arrangement
o secure a complete victory, had it been in*
allibly certain that none of his troops would
pve way. Greene's forces, if not surprised,
vere led into battle before they were proper*
y arranged, and the wonder is that they
ought as well as they did. As it turned out,
be British, although claiming a victory, were
erribly crippled. By their own account,
ore than one-fourth of Lord Rawdon's men
vere rendered unfit for service. One British
tfficer was killed, and eleven captured and
>aroled.
Razors.?Barbers often tell us that razors
;et tired of shaving, but if laid by for tweny
days they will then shave well. By micro*
copic examination it is found that the tired
azor, from long stropping by the same hand
ind in the same direction, has the ultimate
articles of fibres of its surface or edge, all
trranged in one direction, like the edge of,a
)iece of cut velvet; but after a month's rest,
hese fibres rearrange themselves heterogenelusly,
crossing each other and presenting a
aw like edge, each fibre supporting its fellow
tod hence cutting the beard, instead of being
breed down flat without cutting as when laid
>y. These and many other instances are offered
to prove that the ultimate particles of
natter are always in motion ; and they say
hat in the process of welding, the absolute
nomentum of the hammer causes an entan;lement
of the orbits in motion, and hence a
earrangement as in one piece; indeed, in a
old state, a leaf of gold laid on a polished
urface of steel, and stricken smartly with a
lammer, will have its particles forced into the
teel so as to permanently gild it at the point
i contact,
fgistrltowstts fleMing.
HOW TO BE A GENTLEMAN.
We want a few private words with the boys.
The truth is we have a great idea of boys.
We used to think men were made of boys.
We begin to think now that those were old
fashioned notions, that they are all out of
date. We look around and see a great many
persons grown up, with men's clothes on, who
are called men. But what we wish to put into
the ears of the boys is this?be gentlemen.
In this country every boy may grow up to be
a gentleman if he will. It is not necessary
that he should become rich?and most boys
think it is?nor is it necessary that he should
become a great scholar, nor that he should
become a distinguished man.
But some impatient ones are asking, How
can we become gentlemen ? How can a boy
go about making himself one ? Can he work
for it ? Yes, he can. And the harder he
works in the right way the better. Can he
study for it? Yes, he can. But he must
study with his eyes and his ears. Beading
books and newspapers are not enough. He
.mustjhink and feel, as well as speak and act.
rl- u? xr. u xr
V/BU UB UUjr lb I . A1U, UC HUI UUIn iUUUCJ
will bay a great many things, bat it will not
bay what makes a gentleman. If you have
money you can go to a shop and bay clothes.
But hat, coat, pants and boots do not make
a gentleman. They make a fop, and sometimes
they come near making a fool. Money
will buy dogs and horses. But how many
dogs and horses do you think it will take to
make a gentleman ? Let no boy, therefore,
think he is to be made, a gentleman by the
clothes he wears, the horse ne rides, the stick
he carries, the dog that trots after him, the
house that he lives in, or the money he spends.
Not one of all these things do it?and yet
every boy may be a gentleman. He may
wear an old hat, cheap clothes, have no horses,
live in a poor house, and spend but little
money, and still be a gentleman. But how ?
By being true, manly, and honorable. By
keeping himself neat and respectable. By
being civil and courteous. By doing the best
he knows how. And finally, and above all,
by fearing God and keeping his commandments.?Parish
Visitor.
The cornerstone
of the capitol was laid by Wtwbmgton,
on the 18th day of September, 1793. The
building was opened for the meeting of Congress
November 17th, 1800. Enlargement
and new dome completed in 1867. The edifice
fronts the east, is 751 feet long, 348 feet
I wide, and covers 31 acres; court yards 31
i acres; in all 7 acres. The predominant material
of the exterior is wl "e marble. The
dome is of cast-iron, 1351 feet in largest diameter,
and 2871 feet high, surmounted by a
statue of Liberty 191 feet high. The interior
of the dome forms a remarkable circular
chamber, or rotunda, 86 feet in diameter, 180
feet high. One thousand gas-jets, flashed by
electricity, illuminate the interior by night.
The walls of the rotunda are adorned with
historical paintings by eminent artists. The
Senate Chamber, House of Representatives,
Supreme Court rooms, and other apartments,
are splendidly decorated. The halls are lined
with polished marbles from every State in the
Union. Froecoes, paintings and sculptures
abound. The front porticoes are supported
by one hundred Corinthian columns of white
marble. The cost of the building was thirteen
millions of dollars. ??
Cure by Laughter.?Laughter has often
dissipated disease and preserved life by a
sudden effort of nature. We are told that the
great Erasmus laughed so heartily at a satirical
remark that he broke a tumor and recovered
his health. Joubert gives two similar
instances : A patient being very low, the physician,
who had ordered a dose of rhubarb,
countermanded it, and the medicine was left
on the table. A monkey in the room, jumping
up, discovered the goblet, and, having
tasted, made a terrible grimace. Again, putting
only his tongue to it, he perceived some
sweetness of the dissolved manna, while the
rhubarb had sunk to the bottom. Thus emboldened,
he swallowed the whole, but found
it such a nauseous potion that 'after many
strange and fantastic grimaces he ground his
teeth in agony, and in a violent rury threw
xL- _1 a TU? ?i i?
ID? glKiJB UU me uuur. iuc nuuio nuau nw
so ludicrous that the sick man bnrat into repeated
peals of laughter, and the recovery of
cheerfulness led to health.
As a rale, a sneeze is the warning nature
gives that some part of the body is exposed
to a cooler temperature than the other
parts, and that the sneezer is "catching cold."
Next to the warning, what is the use of the
sneeze ? It throws open the pores of the
whole body, and induces a gentle perspiration;
in a word it throws off the cold. A child
rarely sneezes more than twice. Perspiration
is rarely indneed in a youth; an old man, on
the contrary, foeeses half a dozen to a dozen
times, with a loudly explosive' "catchogne."
It is harder to set him to perspiring. When
one is sitting by an open window, and finds
himself sneezing, nature tells him he is taking
cold. He should get up instantly, walk about,
and take a full tumbler of cold water to keep
up the gentle perspiration that the sneeze set
in motion. -'If he does this, he will not be telling,
an hour after, that he has a "cold in his
head," or chest, or lungs.?Dr. R WmtvxyriK
i .jn ,t w m t
Don't Hubby, Gibib.?One of the crying
evils of these times is the* tendency and disposition
of girls to get through gir&ood hurriedly
and get'into womanhood, or rather into
young lady hood, without waiting to enjoy
the beautiful.season of girlhood. Speaking
on this point, Bishop Morris says: "Wait
patiently, my children, through the whole
limit of your girlhood. Go not after woman*
hood; let it come to you. Keep out of pub*
lie view. Cultivate retirement and modesty.
The cares and responsibilities of life will come
soon enough. . When they come you will meet
them, I trust, as true women should. But O,
be not so unwise as to. throw away your girl*
hood. Bob not yourself of this beautiful
season, which, wisely spent, will brighten all
your future life."
A correspondent of the Homedead gives
the following simple remedy for a felon,
which he says was never known to fail:
"When the felon makes its appearance, pro
cure six lemons, and cut off the end and
thrust the finger into the lemon until it becomes
warm. Then withdraw the finger,
which will have a whitish appearance, and
take another, proceed the same as before, nn*11
*Ua o!? Ja 1111J Tt in varv oimnlo on/t io
UJ bllC Q1A IS UWWI WIU4^?V) M4JM ?w
accompanied by no pain whatever, and by
the outlay of a small sum saves a deal of suffering,
possibly the loss of a finger." Another
cure is said to be one teaspoon ful of honey,
one of powdered alum, one of flour moistened
with good vinegar, and poultice twice a
day.
An Inch of Rain.?The following answers
the question, What is an inch of rain ? An
English acre consists of 6,272,640 square
iocnes; and an inch deep of rain on an acre
yields 6,272,640 cubic inches of water, which,
at 277,274 cubic inches to the gallon, makes
2^,622.5 gallons; and, as a gallon of distilled
water weighs 10 pounds, the rainfall on an
acre is 226,225 pounds avoirdupois; as 2,240
pounds are a ton, an inch deep of rain weighs
100,993 tons, or .nearly 101. tons per acre.
For every 100th of an inch,, a ton of water
#? per acre. /,