Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis iM. GritisT, Proprietor. | Jin pfnirnt Jfmniln fUtospaper: Jfor fjje promotion of tbc political, Social, ^gricnltaral aai> Commercial Intrusts of the Soaffj. |TERMS?$2.50 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 28. ' YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, APRIL 27, 1882. NO. 17. m irUcr. THE HAZLEWOOD FAMILY. A TALE OF TIIE REVOLUTION. "Alas, what lofty devotion?what blissful re collections?what high hopes?what unsulliec love?what pure affection?what ardent patriot ism, has been swallowed up by thee, thou unre lentmg Past!"?Anon. "0 mother, they are coming, they are com ing !" shouted little Maria Ilazlewood, as sh< came flying into the apartment where nei mother and sister were preparing tea ; her dart hair floating loose around her white neck, hei blue eyes sparkling with pleasure, and her fin< countenance lighted up with animation, assh< threw herself into her mother's arms. "Who, my dear Maria, are coming ?" "Why, brother Charles, and Arthur : I sav them on the hill beyond the river," replied the happy girl, as she hastened down the avenue to meet her brother. "Heaven be praised!" said Mrs. Hazlewood. as she heard the welcome news; and thequicl flush that passed over the features of the eldest sister, the beautiful Ellen, plainly told that Maria's intelligence was no less agreeable tc her. The last two days had been days of fearful anxiety with the Hazlewood family. They had heard of the conflict and victory of the Cowpens?the defeat and flight of Tarleton's invincibles, as they had hitherto been deemed? and the part that Lieutenant-Colonel Washington's troop took in that brilliant affair was proclaimed by every tongue. But in that gallant troop, was a son and a friend ; and was it not probable that, among the brave men whe had sealed the victory with their blood, Charles or Arthur had fallen ? Captain Hazlewood had early enlisted with all his heart in the service of his country, and fell, mortally wounded, in the disastrous attack on Savannah. He left one son and two daughters ; Charles, who, although scarcely twenty, inherited his father's spirit, and had already distinguished himself as one of the bravest in Washington's daring band ; the dark-eyed Ellen, now sixteen?and Maria, a bright, innocent, playful creat ure, five years oi age. When the British army threatened the j..- ctM? UUCUJJiltlUII Ui V* liai ICdl/Ull^ va|'iaiii lxotiv nvvu c familv removed to their plantation, on the main branch of the Santee, about forty miles above Camdem. If their residence here was marked with few appearances of that splendor and wealth to which they had been accustomed in the city, it was worthy of the amiable family that made it their home. The neat, low, white buildings rose at a considerable distance from the highway, on an eminence covered with fruit and forest trees, and wild grape-vines, which threw their luxuriant tendrils from one to the other, had, in the course of years, converted the carriage-way that led from the gate into a continued bower. From the house, through the opening trees, might be seen the hills of the Santee, the meandering Catawba, and, at a little distance below, the road that led to the low country, as it descended a hill, and crossed the plain and river in front of the buildings. At this hour the sun threw his last rays over the successive ranges of blue hills that rose in the west?the river lay in the vale like a broken thread of silver, now hid by the sycamores and red-cedars that fringed its banks, and now sparkling in the bright rays? the low, soft-soothing tones of the wood-dove and the clear, magical notes of the mockingbird mingled in sweet concert in the oaks, locusts, and magnolias, that surrounded the mansion, and everything semed combined to present a picture of perfect quietness and beauty. "What is the matter with you, my dear Ellen ?" said Mrs. Ilazlewood, alarmed at the paleness of her daughter, who had been watching with intense interest the two horsemen, as they crossed the plain, and were now ascending the eminence on foot, with the delighted Maria laughing and prattling bet ween them. "It is Charles, but not Arthur," replied Ellen, as she turned away from the window to conceal an emotion she could not suppress; but there was little time for explanation or conjecture, as at that instant the door opened, and Ellen was clasped to the bosom of her brother, while his mother shed tears of joy, as he pressed her hand. "My dear mother, I have the pleasure of presenting to you Cornet Clifford, a British officer," said Charles, as he led the stranger forward. "And your prisoner, you ought to have added," said Clifford with a smile, as he returned the salutation of Mrs. Ilazlewood. Charles did not notice the remark, for at the instant he was whispering something in Ellen's ear, which covered her face with blushes, while it at the same time removed an immense weight from her bosom, and restored her usual sprightly cheerfulness. "Charles, what is the matter with your arm ?" inquired Maria, as she clung around her brother's neck ; and Ellen at that moment saw that his left arm was suspended in a military sash. "A scratch from such a weapon as that," he carelessly replied, pointing to his sabre that hung against the wall; "a mere accident, that soldiers every day are liable to, and which might have been much worse." "I must be satisfied the wound is not severe," said Mrs. Ilazlewood. "1 appeal to my friend here, who made it," answered the young soldier, with a smile, while a shudder rau over the ladies as they glanced at Clifford. u A mere flesh-wound, and is doing well I assure you," was the reply to Charles' appeal. "Is that man your friend ?" inquired Maria, seriously; "if he could strike you with his sword, he shall never be my friend." "My sister does not understand the casuistry of war, or perceive, that because men are sometimes enemies, there is no necessity for their being always so," said Ilazlewood to the officer. "She is quite pardonable," replied Clifford, as he kissed the reluctant girl; then, pulling off a handkerchief that was tied around his head, said, as be pointed to a deep sabre-gash in it, "you must allow, my sweet girl, that since your brother cut this, he is at least as bad as I am." "No ; you are a royalist, and an enemy to my country, and my brother is not,"answered Maria. "Rebel to the very core," said Clifford, witli a bitter smile, as he released the little girl from his arms, and t lie conversation was turned intc another channel. The fatigue of the day, added to the effeci of the wound he had received, made it neees sary for Clifford to retire at an early hour, ant! left Charles at liberty to explain the manner ir which he became acquainted with the otliceral the siege of Charleston, their meeting at tin Cowpens, and the desperate conflict that en sued?the wound he himself received, and tin manner in which he fortunately disabled, dis armed, and made him a prisoner. "And why has he come with you V" askec Kllen. "Because he was not exchanged ; and a: there was a probability that I should lie unfii for service a month or two, he chose, insteai of following the retreat of the army, to conn home with me on his parole of honor, I beiiq security for his appearance." "I do not like him ; I can see in his counte nance that he hates our cause and country 1 wish he had not come here." "I know, sister." said Charles, as he gavb tipped his sister's cheek, "that you wouh much rather have seen Arthur ; but he is ii the pursuit of glory and fame, and when he ha: acquired enough, he too, shall come and see nv Ellen." A deep blush which suffused with crimsoi the countenance of the beautiful Ellen, was al the reply she made to her sportive brother. A week, a month, passed away?the woun< in the head of the royal officer was healed, am lie was able to join in all theamusements wliicl Charles projected, in and out of doors. To : commanding appearance. Cornet Clifford add ed a winning manner, which, when he chose he could mingle with the attractive franknes of a soldier, and even the republican Mark l>egan to regard him with less dislike than sh at lirst felt. I?v carefully avoiding all men j tion of topics that might give pain, he suci ceeded in securing the favorable opinion of Mrs. Hazlewood ; but, in spite of his endeav j ors to please, there was one of the family that j continued to regard him with distrust and j aversion. That one was the lovely Ellen, who i could not help fancying that, through the polj ished and gentlemanlike exterior he assumed, . she could discover traces of the unprincipled i villain?the proiligate libertine. Though he - strove with all the art of which he was master - to make a favorable iippression upon her heart, to his mortification he found she was invul. nerable, and while he was in his heart cherish3 iugthe most dishonorable intentions, he found r himself more and more fascinated by her c i charms. Still there was in his language and r in his eye that which alarmed Ellen and ? induced her, while she avoided him as much as ; possible, to hint her dislike to her brother. ''Give yourself no uneasiness about this royalist," said Charles. "To speak, ay, or to r think disrespectfully of you, shall be as much ? as his head is worth " > Clifford was a man too well versed in dulOinittr to ovnito npprllpss alarm. whatever , black designs lie might meditate. The younger : son of a respectable English family, he had ; chosen the army for a profession; and, at; tached to the light, troops under Tarleton, ? none was more distinguished for his bravery, or his unbounded licentiousness. From the I moment he saw the beautiful Ellen Ilazlewood, I he had marked her for his victim, and his res olution did not falter when he saw she was the pride of her brother and the loved one of all around her. He knew that he was disliked by her, and he exulted in the thought that while i he humbled the proud girl a deep blow would be struck at the happiness of some of the ; sturdiest rebels in Carolina. In the midst of ? his plans, however, he received a notice i of his exchange, and a summon to join Lord Rawdon at Camden. Charles, although his t arm was not entirely healed, was unwilling, [ at the prospect of active service, to remain . idle, and, soon after Clifford departed, hasten, tened to join his corps under Washington. In the rapid succession of marches and counter[ marches, skirmishes and battles that ensued, i Clifford, though he did not forget the prize he . was still determined to possess, found no time , for maturing his projects?and a blow from the sabre of another of Washington's troopers, . at the hard-fought battle of the Eutaw Springs, ; at once banished the recollection of Ellen, , and every thing else, from his head for a while, i In that struggle, Colonel Washington was i wounded, and fell into the hands of the roy alists, and, in a furious onset to rescue him, young Hazlewood's horse was killed under him, and he shared the fate of his superior, by , being made a prisoner. When, after the lapse of two days, Clifford recovered his reason, and I fAiin/l Pimvloo wac u nrisniipr and in his | power, his joy was unbounded; for, by hav, i ing him at his disposal, he felt certain of be. ing able to subdue the high-souled and virtuous Ellen ; and the breathing-time the royal army enjoyed after the battle, gave him an opportunity of putting his nefarious plans in a train of execution. Tarleton, who comprehended the nature of his designs, if not the particulars of the plan, granted him permission to leave the army for a few days, and, with two tory citizens of the State for his instruments, he departed in disguise for the i neighborhood of his victim. It was late in the evening when a stranger knocked at Mrs. Hazlewood's and made himself known as the bearer of a message from Charles, informing them that he bad been severely wounded, and was a prisoner, and entreated, as a favor, that Ellen would visit him before his death, which, under the guidance of the messenger, he assured her she might do in safety. The man produced a passport from Cornwallis, and played the part assigned him so well, that not a suspicion passed the mind of Ellen or her mother; and, although she was sensible of the dangerous nature of the undertaking, her love for her brother did not permit her to hesitate?and as soon as some refreshment had been provided for the messenger, and she had made a few hurried preparations, they set out. They had not ridden many miles before day began to break, and while they were joined by another horseman who appeared to be traveling the same road with themselves, Ellen's suspicions were excited by the pains her guide ! took to avoid those places where their appearJ ance might have attracted notice. Some trifling reasons w ere assigned for this course, and it was not until the forenoon was far advanced, and they paused for the fust time at a small log-hut in a thick pine-wood, that Ellen's fears were converted into reality, by the appearance of the detested Clifford to assist her in alighting. Ellen rejected his offered hand, and entered the hut. A chill of horror passed over her as she saw, from its desolate appearance. that it was uninhabited, and the full conviction that she was in the power of a villain flashed upon her mind. "Where is ray brother ?" demanded Ellen, {turning to Clifford. j "Your brother is not here; but you shall J soon have the pleasure of seeing him, and that, I too, safe and well." i ''Safe and well !" repeated Ellen, nxmg a ! searching look on the royal officer, who met it I unmoved. "Yes, dearest Ellen, both, though a prisoner ; forgive me, Ellen," he continued, as he attempted to take her hand, "if to obtain the company of one 1 shall ever love, I have been , compelled to resort to stratagem ; and allow me to hope the sight of your brother will not be the less welcome because obtained through my means." "My brother needs not my presence under such circumstances, and I must insist on bei ing permitted to return immediately to my home," replied the undaunted girl. "No, Miss Ilazlewood, I cannot part with you so easily ; but you may rely upon the word of an officer and a gentleman, that in the camp of his majesty's troops, you shall be perfectly safe." Ellen's remonstrances were unavailing and i she was compelled to proceed ; and, while treated with much respect by Clifford, she ' trembled for the result. Once with her broth! er, she determined to appeal to Clifford's su, | periors, confident they would never refuse proj tection to innocence, or fail to deliver her j from the power of a man she believed capable i: of any enormity. I During the journey, and after their arrival , at the little village in which the royal army [ j was encamped, Clifford saw that nothing ; was wanting to make Ellen's situation as i agreeable as possible, although it was easy for i i her to see that she was under the strict sur>] veillance. She found her brother not only a j prisoner, but, to her surprise, in close custody; ! and, when she remonstrated with Clifford on . i the subject, and reminded him of the treatI ! ment he had experienced when in her brother's ! ! power, he answered that circumstances he u; could not then explain rendered such a rneas? I ure necessary. She was not permitted to see . j him, except in the presence of Clifford or one ? of t he guard. -: Though Clifford had now succeeded in get1 ting Ellen within his clutches, the difficulties I ; in his way, he found, were not all overcome. : She refused to listen for a moment to his lines spun falsehoods?she treated his professions of t; love with contempt, and his offers of marriage 1 with indignant silence. The building in which ?; Clifford resided, and which served as a prison r for l>oth Charles and Ellen, was at a little distance from any other, although considerably . i within the line of sentries and out posts around ; the British camp. There was a fine garden attached to it, and in this, asa mark of partic.ular favor, Ellen accompanied by her female at 1 tendant, was allowed to walk the high-picki etecl fence being deemed a sufficient security s j against any attempts at escape. One mild ,*; evening, just as the sun was setting, Ellen I and her servant observed an old woman on the !! outside of the garden who appeared to be 1 ! waiting their nearer approach. ''It's I'eggv j McFarland," said the girl, as Ellen inquired I ! whether she knew her; "and she lives by 1 | furnishing the officers of his majesty with such i j vegetables as they will purchase and she can i; procure." - i As they came up to the enclosure, Ellen , perceived she had some clusters of wild-dowers s i and sweet-smelling herbs, which she offered it j to sell to them. In the one, which in conside I eration of a few pence, she handed to Miss -' Ha/.lewood. the latter observed her slip a small piece of paper; and, while the eyes of the attendant were directed another way by the woman, Ellen managed to read as follows: "You are in the power of a villain, but despair not?your motions are watched by those who will save you at every hazard ; trust in Heaven, be firm, and you are safe." This scrap of paper was signed "A. L.and. with emotions which almost overcame her, Ellen, having first flung the woman another piece of money, and told her, when she had anything else to sell, she should be glad to see her, followed the attendant to the house. She found Clifford within, who requested a few minutes' conversation with her. Ellen seated herself in silence. "It has fallen to my lot to be the bearer of unpleasant tidings at this time," said he, as he seated himself near her. You have not, I presume, seen your brother to day ?" "No ; he told me, yesterday, that he was to nnnonv hnfavo a AAnrf.mavfiq] HQ n milt.fpr nf form, preparatory to his discharge from confinement ; and I have been hourly expecting to be called to him." "You remember that your brother was one of the garrison of Charleston, and made a prisoner at the surrender of that city ?" "Yes, perfectly well." "You may also remember, that, after remaining in the royal camp for some time, and gaining all the information possible, he forfeited his parole of honor, and, by bribing the sentry, made his escape." "I remember no such thing, nor do I believe Charles would have been guilty of so dishonorable an act," replied Ellen, with spirit. Clifford was unmoved. "You have not, my dear Ellen, made sufiicient allowance for the pressure of circumstances. Much as I respect your brother's bravery and honor, I am compelled, by the decision of the court-martial, to believe the charge was correct." "Charles will defend his honor with his life," said Ellen. "In the field, he undoubtedly would, but I am obliged to say there is little chance of his ever again joining his rebel countrymen." "What am I to understand by these words ?" said Ellen, turning pale. "This is a subject on which I would willingly avoid explanation, but"?he hesitated. "Keep me not in suspense, I can bear the worst," eagerly interrupted Ellen. "You must be sensible, my dear girl," he proceeded, that such a violation of the laws of war could not be overlooked. The fortune of war threw your brother into our hands, as well as several others, equally culpable. It was deemed necessary to make an example ; lots were cast, and it fell upon your brother." "And the penalty is death !" said Ellen, in a voice which emotion rendered scarcely audible." "It is." "Oh. mv mother !" was all that the distress ed girl could utter for some minutes. At last, she collected strength to inquire whether there was no hope for him. "I fear not," was the reply. "The case is clear, and it is the opinion of the court that an example is indispensable, though all regret that it should have fallen on so young and gallant an officer as Lieutenant Hazlewood." "You can save him?you will save him?you will not see him die for such a trifle?remember, he saved your life." "I aui sorry to say," replied Clifford, coldly, "that all my influence has already been exerted in his favor, but in vain." "Do not despair?plead for his sake?for my mother's?for my own?they cannot refuse to hear you." "Though I fear it will be useless, I shall comply with your wishes ; hut it must be on the condition that, if I am successful, you will grant me one favor?one request." "Ask any thing?any thing consistent with honor?any thing a sister's mve, a sister's gratitude can perform?and it shall be done," exclaimed the fair girl in breathless eagerness." "It is said in few words ; you must consent to be mine 1" Ellen, in the earnestness of her entreaty, had drawn towards him?her graceful neck was bent forward?her dark eyes, in which were tears trembling, were fixed?fixed anxiously upon Clifford, to catch the least words of hope he might utter ; but, when she heard his reply, she recoiled as though she had suddenly trod upon a rattlesnake, and, with a shudder, exclaimed?"Never, never !" "Ellen," said Clifford, in a tone of assumed indifference, "in tliis affair 1 shall not attempt to influence your feelings?you will see your brother, and it will be for you to say whether be lives or dies." So saying, he left her, and she was soon summoned to the chamber in which Charles was confined. The sentinel who was stationed at the door, had, it was evident, received his instructions, for lie allowed Ellen to pass without a question?and, while the door was bolted behind her, she found herself in the arms of Charles and pressed to his bosom. "Ellen," said he, "I must die. The influence of a few cowardly tories has been too much for innocence ; and though I would willingly have lived for the sake of my mother, my sisters, my country, yet, thank "Heaven, I fear not death." Ellen's heart sank within her ;she could not see a brother so young, so full of bright hopes and high expectations, go down to the grave when, by sacrificing herself, she could save him to her family and her country. Her resolution was instantly taken"No, Charles, you must not, you shall not die?another victim will be found." Charles looked her wildly in the face, for a moment, as if lie would read her inmost soul: "Accursed wretch!" he exclaimed, "I see the whole. That villain, Clifford, has procured my condemnation, and thinks by playing with my love of life, to obtain you on his own terms? but I would sooner be drawn in quarters than live to see you the slave?the wife?of that vile man." v"Do not, my dear brother talk so wildly; you know not what a sister's love will enable her to endure; think of your mother"? "Not another word, Ellen, if you love me ; my mind is made up ; if they choose to put me to death, God will avenge my blood, and my friends I leave to the care of Heaven. That hypocrite dared to hint to me the terms on which my life might be spared?they were rejected with disdain; they will ever be rejected." The distressed girl was aware that expostulation was useless; she could only pray that Heaven would avert the threatened evil; and, the hour having expired, she was summoned by the sentry to leave the chamber. "I shall see you once more," said Charles, | as he kissed his sister, and led her to the door; "and then, at to-morrow's sunset, I shall j show them how a rebel can die.'' Ellen, at a late hour, retired to her room, I but not to sleep ; and, after passing the night ; in framing a thousand resolutions to save her 1 brother, she rose early in the morning, to refresh her wearied spirits by a walk in her j favorite garden. The sun was rising clear | and bright; all the various and confused j sounds of a large encampment?the rattle of ' drums, the neighing of chargers, the hasty j galloping of horses, and the march -of guards i to relieve the outposts?all mingled at once, 1 and gave an air of life and activity to the | scene, that ill accorded with the state of dejection under which Ellen labored. Gladly j would she have met the old woman again, | that she might have communicated to her the , perilous situation of her brother ; but she too, Ellen thought, had deserted her, and again she summoned all her fortitude to meet the evils she considered inevitable. In the course of the forenoon, the detested Clifford entered Ellen's apartment, and, seating himself, inquired, "Whether she had made a decision on his proposal." "My brother has," she answered, for her tongue refused to utter a word from which might be inferred an unwillingness to save her brother, whatever might be the price. "Very well, and what says he V" i "He refuses life on such terms." "Obstinate fool!" exclaimed Clifford, forgetting his usual coolness and caution. "lie may die, if lie chooses, but it shall avail you nothing: yes be shall die to-night, and, before to-morrow's sun rises, you shall be mine, and that on my own terms?remember, it will be on my own terms." Ellen trembled, when she saw the expression of ferocious licentiousness bis countenance as sumed ; but she replied not. Her eyes were I downcust, her head was bowed on her white hand ; and when, after a moment, as she heard the door close, she raised her eyes and wiped away the tears that almost blinded her, to her great relief she saw that she was left alone. Never, to Ellen and Charles, did a day appear to haste away with such fearful rapidity; and, as the evening came on the latter could plainly see from his window the preparations making for his execution. It was an inexpressibly bitter moment. Life, with its ten thousand charms, the claims of his mother and sisters?and, more than all, those of his country?came over his mind with such painful distinctness, that he wept ; and, had Ellen then repeated her offer that she had before made, he might have lived. It was but a moment, however, and the proud consciousness of innocence and reliance 011 the justice of his country enabled him to rise above his fears and his regrets. The place selected for his execution was on the verge of an open pinewood, at a little distance from the garden-walls ; and as the descending sun cast his last yellow rays on the green tree-tops, the roll of the muffled drum, and the slow and heavy tread of the troops mat nau oeen urawu uu> 101 me ueeus/uu, announced to the prisoner that his hour had come ; and, surrounded by bayonets, he proceeded to the designated place. The grave was already dug, and as it was evidently the wish of the royal officers to make as deep an impression as possible by the death of the rebel, however unjust his sentence might have been, the ground was thronged by an immense multitude, both of citizens and soldiers, who were not on duty. When Charles arrived, a deep and suppressed murmur ran through the crowd, but this expression of pity was instantly silenced by the guard. The file of men were drawn up for his execution ; a venerable clergyman had administered the consolations of religion, and he was directed to kneel to meet his fate. To do this, or to be blindfolded, young Hazlewood refused, and, with his arms folded on his bosom, stood motionless as a statue. The fatal moment had almost arrived, when the gate of the garden opened, and Clifford, with the pale and beautiful Ellen on his arm, was observed approaching. Passing through the guard, who stood with their arms at rest, Ellen no sooner saw Charles than she threw herself into his arms, and, with all that passionate eloquence which belongs to woman, besought him to live. "That you may become the slave and victim of Clifford's vile passions ?" said he, in a tone which reached only her ear. "O God 1 No, never !" she hastily exclaimed ; "but when you are safe, I can die, and my"? "I know what you would say, my dear sister," said Charles, tenderly kissing her, as he interrupted her words ; "but I must not hear them now. Heaven will bless and keep you? farewell ! Then, releasing her from his arms, he turned to the officer of the guard, and said, in a voice firm as when in his father's house, "I am ready." But the fearless girl clasped her arms around his neck, and, placing herself between her brother and the file of men, declared she would die with him. It was in vain that Charles remonstrated ; she was immovable. "Tear them apart!" cried Clifford, to two or three of his ready minions. "Tear them apart!" he sternly repeated, as he saw that reluctance was evinced, and that all around were sensibly affected by the spectacle of generosity and affection before theui. The peremptory tone in which he spoke had the effect of rousing the attention of some of his followers and the rough hands of two or three of the soldiers were already on the fair girl, when a sudden shout was heard on the verge of the wood, mingled with a scream, as the sentinel of that place was cut down, and, in an instant, the terrible cry of "The rebels??the rebels !" was echoed from every quarter. All eyes were instantly turned to a party of horsemen, which had burst from the wood, and, with their sabres flashing around their heads, were bearing down all before them like a torrent. They stayed not to kill: those of the multitude who could not get out of the way were trampled beneath the feet of their horses, and, before Clifford could credit the evidence of his senses, the fiery horsemen, which were instantly known as a part of Washington's daring band, were upon him. Jammed together by the rush of the crowd, the guard could make no resistance ; they were swept away by the torrent?and a blow from the sabre of Arthur Lee cleft Clifford's head to his shoulders, and cut short the order which was on his lips : "Shoot the damned"?an order which was intended to insure the destruction of both Charles and his sister. What had passed was the work of a moment?in another, Charles was mounted on a fresh horse, the half-insensible Ellen was in Lee's arms, and the whole party disappeared by the same route and as rapidly as they had advanced. So daring was the attack, that the British legion, of which the fallen Clifford was an officer, and which was instantly under arms, conceiving it impossible that so hazardous an exploit would be attempted, unless backed by a formidable foice, lost so much time in reconnoitering, that, aided by his superior knowledge of the country, Lee and his rescued friends got off safe, and without losing a man. The remainder of our narrative may easily be conjectured. No sooner had the surrender of Cornwallis secured the independence of | America than Charles and Arthur hastened to the happy quiet of their home, where the union of highminded and heroic Lee, with the beautiful and constant Ellen Ilazlewood united in still closer ties these respectable families. Happy in the love and respect of all around them, with a consciousness that the smiles of an approving Heaven were over them?Arthur and Ellen long enjoyed the pleasure of seeing their country free and prosperous ; and, in the bliss of the present, forgot the dangers and privations of the past. When Shall tiie Children Learn ? Teach the children to read at home, before they are old enough to go to school. It is not necessary to tax their minds in the least; they may learn to call words just as they call things. When a child knows how to read it has anothsource of self amusement, and as juvenile books abound it can vary its plays with exercises in easy reading. Reading comes first, spelling afterward. A child will learn in two or three months' teaching, the daily lessons not exceeding half an hour, to read and spell words of three and four letters with ease. The same page should be gone over and over till every word is called at sight. If the parent will let the little one hold a pencil, while the parent hand traces, on thin paper laid on the page, the forms of the letters, great progress will be made in fixing the forms of the words on the juvenile mind, and in laying the found-1 ations of a knowledge of correct orthography. A careful observer who was a teacher of forty years' standing, once said, that "the child that didn't learn to spell before it was ten years old rarely learned to sj>ell correctly." The healthy child soon learns to rejoice in its own intellectual growth, and needs little stimulus to push it forward. It is best for the mother to take the child in her lap while she is teaching it, so that for the five or ten minutes' lesson she can control its movements, and gain its attention, | which is very apt to wander from work to I play. Tiik Workixgmen.?The central organization of trades union met in New York last Sunday afternoon and adopted a platform of principles which demands eight hours for a dav's work, nrohibitinir the employment of ! children under fourteen years of ape in work| shops, mines and factories, the abolition of all I contract labor on government works and the | prohibiting of all convict contract labor; the i enactment of laws giving workmen a nieehanj ic's lien for full wages for their work ; equal pay for equal work of l>oth sexes; establishment of a labor statistical bureau by the States as well as by the General Government, the otticers of these bureaus to l>e chosen from labor organizations; sanitary inflection of mines, factories and all conditions of labor; al>olition of the conspiracy and tramp laws, and all laws not bearing equally on rich and poor, and the establishment of a national circulating medium which shall be issued to the people without intervention of banks. pisccUflBCflUS Reading THE GUANO QUESTION, AGAIN. A CART) FROM COL. J. M. IVY. To remove the impression which seems 1 disturb the minds of a few individuals in 01 town, that I have been inditing the guano a tides which, from time to time, have appeare in the Herald of late, I beg to say that I ha\ neither written nor "inspired'' a single one ( said articles. In thus disclaiming authorshi] however, I would not have any one infer di: approval on my part of the articles in que: tion. On the other hand, I am only glad t say, as a citizen of the town, and one deep] solicitous for its welfare, that the editor, Mi Hull, has displayed convictions on the subjer of contention between the Council and tli great body of our citizens, and having convi< firms has riisnlavprl the nerve to snnnort tliei unflinchingly, and yet respectfully, to thos whom duty to himself and to the community has impelled him to ciiticise. As to the communications in the last issu of the Yorkville Enquirer, signed, one h the Wardens of Rock Hill, and the other h "Sympathizer," abounding, as they do, in vii ulent invective and reckless dogmatism, wit the evident purpose of trying to cast'odiui upon me, without one particle of provocatior I have nothing to say beyond the remark, tha a character that would need defense from sue wanton and groundless attacks would be littl worth defending. J. M. Ivy. ? A. FEW WORDS IXREPLY TO THE WARDES'l [Editorial In Rock Hill Herald.J In the Yorkville Enquirer of last week ai peared an article from the Wardens of Roc Hill, which requires some reply from us though we do not consider it necessary to nt tice but one or two points. We fail to se why the signers of the "card," as they ar pleased to style it, should go to Yorkville t have it published, especially after the editorc the Herald had personally stated to the repi ted author of the article in question that ou columns were open to the Council at any time We must say that it appears to us the Wai dens are afraid to meet the question in th presence of the people who know the merits c the controversy. The whole aim and drift o the "card" seemed to be to cast reproach upo: the Herald and its "proprietor"?not to sho\ that their position is a tenable one and is sus tained by the community. They copy a lette : j) ? ? leueiveu irum .rieaiueiii lirtsnen in icic-cm; "to an ordinance requiring the Railroad Com pany to clear the crossing on the streets i: town within five minutes after the arrival o the trains," which letter bears date Februar 27th, and seek to show that the Herald ha misrepresented the facts in stating that th railroad authorities had threatened to remov the depot if the guano ordinance should be en forced. We, too, have in our possession a let ter from President Haskell. It is dated Marc 22d, 1882. From it we make the foil.) wiiij extract : * * * "We certainly cennot ^au fertilizers to Rock Hill unless we can delive at our depot. If the depot is forbi Iden w will be obliged to move the business 10 anotli er point, and to do that establish our statioi for business away from Rock Ilill. I hope th Council will see the harm which will com upon the town nnd reconsider the question." Now, we think this should convince th honorable "city fathers" that the Presi dent of the Railroad has an_"intention of re moving the depot from lvock Hill." Th Wardens say that the right of the railroad t bring and unbad guano at the depot is un questioned. But the ordinance says that i any commercial fertilizers be allowed "to re main in any car, depot, or on railroad plat form" for a longer period than twenty-fou hours after its first arrival, the "persons, com pany or corporation" so violating the ordi nance shall pay a fine of not less than twent dollars for each and every day or fractions part thereof that such fertilizers are allowei to so remain. This ordinance, then, practi cally prohibts the railroad from deliverinj guanos at the depot, for, being the custodial of the goods until the consignee jeceive them, the "corporation" incurs the penalty The Council cannot abrogate the ordinance i: respect to the railroad, because that would b to "encourage resistance to the law of th town," as they so unjustifiably charge us wit! having done We think the Wardens wil see the point. They say that "there is n trouble between this Council and the authori ties of the C. C. & A. Railroad." The rail road authorities are the best judges of tha matter. The letter above quoted would seer to disprove the assertion. The Wardens do us very great injustice ii stating that the Rock Hill Herald has writtei to the railroad authorities, "and tried to ge them to co-operate with two or three cottoi merchants to employ connsel and resist th guano ordinance in the Courts." We hav done no such thing, and we defy the Warden to show that we have. We also defy then to show wherein we have ever "encouragei resistance to the law of the town." The; can't do it. We have repeatedly urged th Council to repeal the guano ordinance becaus we believed then, as we do now, and as man; others do, that its enforcement would injur the town very materially. We believe that ou position is right, and until we are convince) otherwise, we propose to maintain it, th "three of our cotton merchants who say the; are satisfied with the action of Council" t the contrary notwithstanding! That posi tion is strengthened and backed by 105 voter of the Town of Rock Hill. If we had n corvictions of our own, this fact would rle termine our proper place in the ranks. Parental Government.?Scene in a Li brartj.?Gentleman busy writing?child enters "Father give me a penny." "Haven't got any; don't bother me." "But father, I want it; something particu lar." "I tell you I havent one about me." "I must have one; you promised me one." "I did no such thing; I won't give you an more pennies ; you spend too many. It's al wrong?I will not give it to you, so go awaj\; Child begins to whimi>er. "I think you might give me just one; it' really mean!" "No, go away ; I won't do it, so there's ai end of the matter." Child cries, teases, coaxes ; father gets cu of patience, puts his hand in his pocket, take out a penny and throws it to the child. "There, take it! and don't come back 1;c day," Child smiles, looks shy, goes out conqueroi determined to renew the struggle in the after noon, with the certainty of a like result. Scene in the Street'.?Two boys playing Mother opens the door, calls to one of their her own son, - "Joe, come into the house instantly !" Joe pays no attention. "Joe, do you hear me ? If you don't com( I'll give you a good whipping!" "Joe smiles, and continues his play; hi companion is alarmed for him, and advise him to oliey. "You'll catch it if you don't go, Joe !" "Oh. no, I won't; she always says so, bu never does. I ain't afraid." Mother goes back into the house, very muc put out, and thinking herself a martyr to ba children. That's the way, parents;show your childre by your example that you are weak, undecide and untruthful, and they learn aptly enoug to despise your authority, and to regard yon word as nothing. Increase of Years.?Any one who makt a business of reading the obituary notices i city papers, must observe our increasing Ion gevity. Almost any daily record will show preponderance of old jieople?meaning thoE of sixty-five or more. Sixty was considere old even thirty or forty years ago ; but now when a man of sixty dies, the comment ofte made is, "he ought to have lived longer; youn man yet." Indeed, persons of sound const tution, quick mind, active temperament, art in a sense, young at sixty, for they are in poi session of all their faculties, capable of an ordinary amount of work, and still have a cor siderable future. Many of the most responsi ble places in firms and corporations are hel , by men of seventy or thereabouts, and the] ? evince no disposition to retire. New York ii noted for vigorous old men. In no city on the - continent, and in hardly any city in Europe can so many hale, active men of sixty-five anc upward be found. In,.'walking through any o; the principal thoroughfares, one can hardl] ;o fail to be struck by the gray or white hain ir and wrinkled faces, coupled with erect, elastic r- forms and suppleness and rapidity of move ;d ment. There appear to be numberless an re cient heads on comparatively young shoulders >f The opinion long prevailed that rural region! ^ and rural pursuits favored longevity; but if ii s- were so once, which is very dubious, it is not s-. so now. Great centers supply ease, comforts o material facilities, and save an endless amount ly of friction, while the country, its monotony, r. lack of interest, fatiguing round of small conit cems and very hard work, wears on thestrong ,e est system. Men in cities generally live not j- only much more, but much longer. Countrj ii men wear themselves out with continued laboi ie unmixed with pleasure. T* FACT, FCN AND FANCY FOR THE FAIR SEX. ie ? After man came woman, and she has beer y after him ever since. y ? When a young lady refuses a marriage pro r- posal, it is a case of sleight of hand. h ? Wrinkles disfigure a woman less than illn nature. ?Woman was not created perfect. She had , her faults?such as false hair, false complexion I and so forth. ?"What were the worst results of the civi] war?" cried an orator. "Widows," shouted Jones, who had married one. ? "I thought you took an interest in my wely. fare," said William. "No, sir," replied Susan, k "only in your farewell." ? The man that says that woman has nevei ). invented anything, should listen, for a few e minutes, at the keyhole of the sewing society, e ? Jones says that he used to be proficient in o half a dozen languages, but since he was marif ried he is not even master of his own tongue. l* ? Before promising a woman to love only her, r one should have seen them all, or should see only her. ? We censure the inconstancy of women ? when we are the victims ; we find it charming ? when we are the objects.?L. Lesmyers. | ?It is not easy to be a widow; one must reassume all the modesty of girlhood, without l)ei ng allowed to feign its ignorance.?Madame r de Girardin. e ?Men are so fearful of wounding a woman's i_ vanity that they rarely remember that she may, n by some possibility, possess a grain of common ,f sense.?Miss Bradaon. v ?Jones thinks a man fortunate who has his s will contested after death only. He says his e will has been contested ever since he wedded e Mrs. Jones. i- ? In Quincy, Florida, the appropriate custom prevails to salute a newly married couple by It firing a cannon. This is to remind them that g the battle of life has fairly begun. ? The Elmira Advertiser says: "Never try to il conceal anything from your wife, for, in the i first place, it isn't right, and in the second t place, only a fool attempts impossibilities." ?"When two women are talking together it [J is safe to predict that they are saying evil e of a third ; when two men, that they are saye ing good of themselves. ? "Ask no woman her .age," says a recent writer on social ethics. Of course not. Ask her next best lady friend. She will never fail g to give the information. 0 ?Hens scratch up flower beds only when . they are barefooted. That's why women run f out and "shoo" the hens to keep 'em from doing damage. ? "Isn't your husband a little bald ?" asked r one lady of another, in a store, recently, i- "There isn't a bald hair in his head," was the i- hasty reply of his wife. y ? An old bachelor, who died recently, left a 1 will dividing his property equally among the 3 women who had refused him; "because,"said - he, "to them I owe all my earthly happiness." S ?A celebrated lawyer once said that the 11 three most troublesome clients he ever had 3 were a young lady who wanted to be married, ' a married woman who wanted a divorce, and n an old maid who didn't know what she wanted, p ? A young widow was asked why she was ,, going to wed so soon after the death of her , first husband. "Oh ! la," said she, "I do it to ^ prevent fretting myself to death on account of dear Tom!" L. ? "Tommy," said a mother to her 7-year old t boy, "you must not interrupt me when I am n talking with ladies. You must wait till we stop, and then you can talk." "But you never jj stop," retorted the boy. n ? An Oil City man purchased a small hand t bellows, took it home, and told his wife he liad ii concluded to blow his brains out; whereupon e she replied that a smaller sized bellows would a have answered the Duruose better. s ? Believe a woman's eyes rather than her lips, n In other words, when she says, "My dear, you [1 are so poor I will try to get along without a y new Spring bonnet," look at her eyes. If they e flash fire get the bonnet, e ?Women of the world never use harsh exy pressions when condemning their rivals. Like e the savage, they hurl elegant arrows, ornar mented with feathers of purple and azure, but 3 with poisoned points. e ? It is remarked by a cynical bachelor that y he never attends a ball or a party, without 0 meeting a large number of women whom he l" thinks would make excellent wives?for his 8 friends. 0 ? It is a curious, yet unexplained fact, often noticed by ordinarily close observers, that a talkative man, after being much about a house where there are two or three ladies, gradually loses his talking habit, and scarcely speaks a !* word more than is absolutely necessary. ? A very old lady on her death-bed, in a penitential mood, said : "I have been a great sinner more than eighty years, and didn't know it." An old darkey woman who had lived with her a long time exclaimed: "Lors! I knowed it all de time." [1 ? Conjugal amenities.?"Do you know in ? what month of the year my wife talks the least?" "Well, I suppose, when she catches s cold and loses her voice." Not at all. It is in February." "Why is that?" "Because Febn ruary has the fewest days." ? The happiest period of a woman's life is t when she is making her wedding garments, s The saddest is when her husband comes home late at nights and yells to her from the front >- door steps to throw out a handful of keyholes of different sizes. ? The story is told of a canny Scott, who, - having recently lost his wife, was receiving the commiserations of a friend. "You have had a great trial, Mr. Campbell." "Yes, sir, you i, may well say that," was the reply. And then pausing, with a shake of his head: "Not only was it a great trial, but let me tell you, a matter of considerable expense." S ? One morning a woman was shown into Dr. Abernethy's room ; before he could speak she 8 bared her arm, saying, "Burn." "A poultice," 18 said the doctor. Next day she called again, showed her arm and said, "Better." "Continue the poultice." Some dayselapsed before ^ Abernethy saw her again ; then she said: ILttT-M . r GM 1) minfli ?tfii ] yuui icc r ^>uLiuiiy, i[uui,ii cm, '] great medico ; you are the most sensible wod man I ever saw." ? "Did you observe that woman?" said a 1 gentleman to a companion, as a sharp featured U female swept by them. The friend nodded to indicate that he had observed her. "Well, I r am indebted to her for the chief happiness of my life." "Indeed, I can't imagine the grati,3 tude you feel toward her." "No, you can't; n only her present husband can do that. Ten t- years ago, I jisked her hand in marriage and a she refused me." e ? lie happened to press the foot of a young d lady, who was sitting next the door, in getting -, out of a street car. The damsel, compressing a her brow into an awe-inspiring frown ejaculag ted : "You cluuisy wretch I" Most men would i- have looked foolish and apologized, bult'our >, hero was equal to the occasion. "My dear i- young lady," he exclaimed, "you should have y feet large enough to be seen, and then they i- wouldn't be trodden upc ." Her brow relaxi ed, her eyes sparkled, her lips smiled, and the d injury was forgotten. J THE BABY'S AUTOGRAPH. 3 They gave it to me at Christmas?the pretty 3 new autograph album?and I was proud of it; ? the binding was so gay, and the white, giltJ edge sheets so spotlessly pure. I could hardly c make up ray mind who should have the honor of dedicating that album, or what verse was grand enough to be inscribed on its pages, and before I had quite decided, baby found it. She had toddled into the parlor and taken it down from the table before we missed her, and-was sitting cross-legged like a Turk, with the precious book in her lap. That would not have been worth recording, and I should not value my album beyond price now if it were all. But she had a pencil?for she dearly loved to scribble on bits of paper?and she had made her mark on the front leaf (the title page) of my beautiful book. She had made a dozen marks, criss-cross and zig-zag, and there she sat, her bright hair tossed over, her little demure mouth pursed up, her blue eyes full of mischief, half shy, half defiant, and we three women looking at her. "0, you naughty, naughty baby 1" I cried ; ' you've just ruined my new album, you bad i little thins:!" "Bless her dear little heart," said my moth er , "doesn't she make a picture ?" "Whip her," said Aunt Harriet, in a vin. dictive tone. She lias no children of her own and knows just how to bring up other people's. ^ I was angry enough to do it, and had made ( one step forward intending to wrest the book out of the clasping baby hands, and then? . what! beat my own child V I was saved that degradation by my own good mother, who 1 shook her head at me over Aunt Harriet's shoulder. How long is it since Christmas ? Counting i by throbs, I should say years! years! It is only a couple of months, and to-day I would ' give, "oh! what would I not give, to have ' those little hands doing their sweet mischief. Peace, foolish heart! "He giveth his beloved rest." The baby is gone. But when . I look at the little, short lines, that dedicate my album?the sweetest, saddest lines to me that were ever written?soon ended, like her , little life?I am glad that I took her in my arms, kissed the rosebud lips, and put the book away without one reproving word?glad that I caused no angry feelings in the baby heart, or left memories for myself that would now have power to wound! That is why all the leaves of my new album are blank?pure, spotless, just as the fair page of her little life was; but you who think these characters on the dedicating page unmeaning, i have never had the key to them. Mothers can tell what they are. Angels will be glad over this record without blot or stain. There is no handwriting so fine that I would exchange it for the baby's autograph. As for us? Our lives are albums written through With good or ill, with falseor true, And as the blessed angels turn The pagesof ourvears, God grant they read the good with smiles And blot the bad with tears. Statistics of Cranks.?There is a horrible fascination about figures for most people, whether they are simple majorities on election night, or statistics in crimes and criminals. The tenth census will show some astonishing figures on various subjects, but none more instructive and horribly interesting than the tabulated statement of dependent persons. It will be wholesome food for reflection for publicists, philanthropists and statesmen to realize the force of knowledge that there are 500,000 persons in the United States who are in the jails, insane asylums, etc. This round half million does not include the idiots in Congress and the various State Legislatures, the paupers on. the government pay rolls, or the hordes of thieves and other criminals who are outside the walls of the penitentiaries > running municipal affaire. There are in round numbers ninety thousand insane, seventy-five thousand idiotic, fifty thousand blind, thirty thousand deaf and dumb and two hundred and fifty thousand prisoners and paupers. Inasmuch as the statistics of former years on this subject have been very incomplete there is no way of approximating the increase during the last decade, but it would seem very large. The Census Bureau has confined its investigation to the dependent of all classes named and its figures may be considered official. I think, however, it will be conceded that there are more paupers outside of the public institutions than in, and more prisoners outside of prison walls than incarcerated, while the number of insane people outside of the asylums will outnumber the others ten to one. In this city of cranks and paupers as compared with the sane and independent, those of the former classes will number as one to five of the hitter. In fact, it is a rare thing in Washington to find a party of five men, one of whom is not a crank or a pauper in the real acceptation of the terms.? Washington Letter to Philadelphia Times. - ... - j A MUNIFICENT BEQUEST. In the New York Assembly, on the 12th instant, a bill was introduced to incorporate the trustees of the John T. Slater fund. Rutherford B. Hayes is named as First President of the incorporators. The fund is to consist of one million dollars and is a bequest made by Mr. John T. Slater, a wealthy gentleman * *-V /-v T? _ l.Ai. 01 JN orwicu, ^onn. xit a lener iu me uuuj.ii of trustees, Mr. Slater writes as follows: "The general object which I desire to have exclusively pursued is the uplifting of the lately emancipated population of the Southern States and their posterity, by conferring on them the blessing of Cristian education. The disabilities formerly suffered by this people and their singular patience and fidelity in the great crisis of the nation, establish a just claim on the sympathy and good will of humane and patriotic men. I cannot but feel the compassion that is due, in view of their prevailing ignorance, and which exists through no fault of their own." Mr. Slater purposely leaves the trustees the largest liberty in making such changes in . methods of applying the fund as may from time to time seem wise. He suggests that the education of teachers for the colored race may be the wisest purpose to which the fund can be put. If after thirty-three years threefourths of the trustees shall for any reason agree that there is no further use for the fund in the form it is now instituted, he authorizes them to apply the capital to the establishment and subsidizing existing institutions of high education, so as to make them more freely , accesible to poor colored students. Under the present institution of the fund he specially wishes that neither the principal nor income be expended in land or building for anypurpose other than that of a safe and productive investment for income. National Republican Committee.?An informal meeting of the Republican National Committee was held in Washington last Saturday, Hon. Marshall Jewell, chairman, presiding, and George W. Hooker, of Vermont, assistant secretary, and Hons. John C. New, of Indiana, Wm. P. Frye, of Maine, Chauncey J. Filley, of Missouri, Wm. Yost, of Virginia, W. W. Hicks, of Florida, J. B. Deveraux, of f*????.'? 1 A Afnrfin rvf IiTaiiaau "Piliil ftfrn. UCUl^ld, ?J. ill iuaillii) VI. ixwiioii^ * WW* w*vback, of Alabama, W. P. Cannaday, of North 1 Carolina; and Samuel Lee, of South Carolina, were present. The subject of party interests in the Southern States was fully discussed and the members expressed themselves earnestly in favor of a union of the Republicans of the Southern States, with such liberal elements in these States as promise progress in the direction of a liberal national sentiment and broader political ideas that will insure a free ballot and an honest count, and in national affairs will antagonize the principles and iwlicy of the Bourbon Democracy. Hon. Wm. P. Frye offered the following resolution which was unanimously adopted : jResolved, That there lie a meeting of the Republican National committee at Washington, the fourth Wednesday of January, 1883, to consider and take final action oh the report of the committee appointed March 5th, 1881, to mature and report to the national committee a plan for securing to the several congressional districts the right to elect their own delegates to the next national convention, and to transact any other business tlrnt may be brought before them. The meeting then adjourned tins die, ;