Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, January 24, 1884, Image 1
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VOL. 30. YORKYILLE, S O., THURSDAY, JAJSriTARY 24, 1884. NO. 4.
J-tt Original
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
CELESTINE.
THE STORY OF A MISTAKE.
CHAPTER V.
Mr. Warren absolutely forbade his wife to
visit in the sickly district. He would not
have her endanger her health, he said, and
moreover there was quite enough for her to
attend to at home. His own labors among
the sick were unremitting; and though naturally
a strong man, and capable of great
exertion, the constant wear and tear, both
physically and mentally, began to show
their effect on him at last.
"Silas, I do wish you would take better
care of yourself,"- Celestine said to him
more than once ; and he answered:
"What am I to do ?" These people must
be looked after, and you Would not nave me
neglect my duty."
1~ oa titq vm onH
"Uuttne weatnern??j;iuwii ou
you walk so much. It seems to me you allow
yourself no rest."
The worst of It was that the place seemed
to grow more and more unhealthy. New
cases of sickness were continually occurring,
some of them developing into the very
worst forms of typhoid.
Celestine's girl, Mina, came to her one
day, crying, and said that her mother was
down with the fever, and that she must go
home.
"Have you seen your mother?" asked
Celestine.
"No ma'am; but 1 met m v little sister on
the street, and she told me."
"Suppose you wait until Mr. Warren
finds out about her," suggested Celestine;
"perhaps she may not be as ill as you suppose."
"
So wheil Silas came in, an hour later, she
spoke to him of the matter, and he promised
to attend to it immediately after lunch.
The Webers, Mina's parents, lived at
quite a distance from the Rectory, in a low
and badly-ventilated house, quite near the
district \vbere the fever most prevailed. It
vi-ac nn wnndpr that sickness should attack
them, Mr. Warren thought, as he observed
the extreme untidiness of all their arrangements;
refuse scraps littering their yard,
water standing around and dirt and disorder
everywhere. He found Mrs. Weber
prostrated with the fever, but not very sick
at present, though she complained loudly,
and declared it was impossible for her to
get on without Mina, and that she must
ave her at home.
"Could you send another of your daughters
to supply her place, as long as you need
her here?'' he asked, thinkiug how hard it
would be for his wife to get on during the
hot weather without some help.
No, there wasn't another girl big enough ;
besides, they all had enough to do. Mrs.
Weber was very sorry, she hated to take
Mina out of her place, but it could not be
helped?and she hoped Mr. Warren would
send her right home, that very evening.
Of course he was obliged to agree to her
wish; and on leaving her, instead of goiug
directly home, he went on a round, inquiring
in various quarters, in the hope of securing
a temporary substitute for Mina,
who had really become so useful that he
knew she would be greatly missed. He
was unsuccessful, however, and returned
home after a long quest, completely tired
out.
Celestine, as usual, received his unfavorable
report with cheerful equanimity, and
declared that it did not in the least matter
whether they got another girl or not; she
herself was quite equal to the work. 80
she sent off Mina, who had been fretting all
day, partly from anxiety about her mother,
partly from distress at the idea of giving
up her place, and went singing like a bird
about her new tasks.
She got up a dainty little dinner for Silas,
set it out in most inviting style, then went
to his study to call him to partake of it.
She found him lying on his sofa, much
flushed; and when she toici nun umi uiunn
was ready, he declared that he could not
eat?his head aciied badly, and he wanted
to keep quiet.
A cold chill shot through her. She saw
in his face that illness was upon him.
"Let ine ask Dr. Gray to come in and see
you, dear," she said in a tone that betrayed
none of the apprehension which she felt.
"He will give you something to relieve
you."
"O no; I am only tired?the heat has
been so great to-day. Don't worry about
me," he answered, wearily. "I shall feel
better after taking a nap."
So she darkened the room, and quietly
stole out, resolving that if he were no better
in an hour or two she would bring the
doctor on her own responsibility.
She did not sing now, and quietly moved
about, setting things in order, putting away
the dinner she had taken such pain.-> to preEare,
and making the kitchen as tidy as she
ad taught Mina to keep it. If the girl
could only have stayed! She had really not
cared much about her leaving; but now,
with the fresh trouble brooding over her,
she felt what a comfort it would have been
to be able to keep her. How could she
nurse Silas and get through all the work
besides? However, her fears might be unfounded,
perhaps her husband was not really
going to be very ill. After all, it might
only be over-fatigue, and the effects of it
would wear off after a good rest.
When she had put everything , to rights,
she went back intothestudy, entering noiselessly
so as to make no disturbance. Silas
was sleeping. His face was turned from
her, against the sofa cushion, but she touched
his hand as it hung down, and found that
it was dry and burning hot; his breathing
0%-wl iremrnloi* U'tU
ucavj auu uupuuu, uu<? uv ??v
dently in a high fever.
She hesitated no longer about going for
the doctor, who fortunately lived only two
squares off. She almost flew there and
back, leaving a message for him, as he was
not at home, and returned to find her husband
as she had left him. He hadapparently
not moved. He woke presently, and
asked for water ; but when he attempted to
rise to a sittiug position, his head reeled,
and he sank back helplessly 011 the cushion.
"I believe I should feel better in bed," he
said faintly, "only I don't see how I am to
get there, if I am not able to balance myself."
"I have asked the doctor to come round,
dearest," said his wife, "and when becomes
he can help you to your room more easily
than I could."
"You have been for the doctor, C'elestine??and
I told you not."
"I could not help it, dear; don't be vexed.
I felt I must have advice for you."
He said 110 more, but closed his eyes
again ; and in a short time Celcstine was
tnanKiui to near tne doctors pnieiou siup ai
the gate.
"Nothing very wrong, I hope, Mrs. Warren,"
he said cheerily, as she met him in the
hall. "We can't alford to have our minister
get sick."
"It is malaria, I suppose," she replied.
"He has exposed himself continually, and
now he seems to have broken right down."
"Well, well! we must set him up again,
that's all." But the cheery doctor looked
grave when he saw his patient's condition ;
it was worse than he had expected. He
soon got him to bed, and then left in order
to get a prescription made up, which he
would bring back himself, as Celestine had
no one to send after it.
"And to-morrow morning, Mrs. Warren,
if he isn't better, we will have somebody
around to help you," he said as lie was leaving.
"You musn't have everything011 your
hands."
What a long, long night that was ! At
tirst Silas slept quietly, though heavily,and
the medicine, she hoped, was doing him
good ; but about midnight he awoke, grew
very restless, and spoke in a confused way.
When she answered him, he seemed not to
pay any attention to her, and presently
dozed off again, only to awake after a short
I
I interval in the same manner as before ; and
j the remaining hours until daylight were
spent in alternate fits of sleeping and waking,
while during the latter intervals he
would ramble on in vague, incoherent
speech that made it evident his brain was
affected. Celestine's heart sank lower and
lower; she was quite inexperienced as a
sick-nurse, and knew not whether her alarm
was as well-founded as it appeared, or
whether these symptoms whicn terrified
her were but natural attendants on this type
> of disease ; she could only watch, and try to
i hope, and send up constant, silent petitions
for one to whom she had learned to turn to
in trouble as her best friend.
When the doctor came in the morning,
she took him aside, and entreated him to
> tell her frankly whether her husband was
dangerously ill.
"Frankly, then," he replied, after a moment's
scrutiny of her face, "I do not consider
him in any danger, at present, but we
will have to be very careful of him, and
watch him closelv, The fact is, he has been
Hool +AA hoivl I liutro worn.
' <i gicauu^ai nuxvi. JL Jiiv. v 1* ??
eel him more than once, that he would suffer
from it. but I suppose he felt such confidence
in (lis own strength that he did not
believe he could ever break down. Now,
Mrs. Warren, you must really have some
one to help you nurse him, because 1 am
quite sure you will not be able to do it
alone."
"Indeed, 1 don't need any help," said
Celestine, earnestly ; "at least not now. I
am quite strong, and able to do anything
i that is necessary. ' If I break down, I
shall send for Miss Latimer; I know she
will come."
But she. did not break down. The strength
of a loving heart sustained her, and enabled
her to mantain her watch, day and night,
with such snatches of rest as she could get
during her husband's quiet intervals; She
could not bear that any one else should share
the duty of nursing him. She was thankful,
however, when one of the neighbors
' sent in from time to time to help with work
in the house or kitchen which she had no
longer leisure to attend to; and with such
' aid she got on very well.
But oh, those terrible hours of anxiety
! and suspense, as she sat beside him and
watchea the ravages of the fever, not knowing
whether she could dare to hope! For
he was very, very ill. For many days his
life hung on a thread, and no one could
foretell the issue. There was one night, in
nrhun nnifo lncf lionvf ntul
fJUl U1UU1U1 j n 11VU Ci k\> V.JU* VV IVCV 4iviVft V) mux*
told herself, over and again, with a calmness
born of despair, that it was absolute folly
to cherish the delusion of hope any longer.
Silas must die?she feltsure of it, now.
. The loving care that sheltered her, the
strong heart that beat for her sake, would
soon be taken from her, and she would be
left alone.
However, it was differently ordained.
Silas was not going to die; but when the
turning-point of the disease finally came,
and the doctor pronounced the crisis past,
he was so wan and prostrated by his long
fight with death, that he looked as though
a breath would waft him to the spirit-land.
One day a letter came addressed to him,
which Celestine opened.
It contained a notice from the Board of
Missions that the Missionary Fund, having
fallen far short of the demands upon it,
would be unable to supply the Rev. Silas
Warren with the usual remittance for the
present quarter, but would make up the deficiency
as soon as practicable.
Now this remittance, small as it was, had
been anxiously expected by Celestine, as her
only present resource; for the slender family
fund was at its lowest ebb, and she saw
no way of replenishing it. What was to be
done? Occupied as she was in her husband's
sick room, she conld find no time to look
for any employment by which she might
manage to earn a little more money; and
her chances, at the best, of obtaining such
employment were very small.
She thought and thought until her brain
ached from thinking. Should she try and
borrow some money from any of her husband's
congregation V She shrank from the
responsibility of a debt, however trifling.
Still they could not starve.
At last it occurred to her that there might
; be something among her possessions which
. she could sell. She got out a box which
contained her few valuables, and began to
look them over. Alas, how little there was
which she could hope to turn to any aci
count! Trinkets valued chiefly as gifts
from friends, little keepsakes which no one
would care to own?what could she do with
them? She naused when she came to a
cross, set with diamonds, which her father
i had given her on her sixteenth birthday.
; She remembered well the circumstances attending
the gift. lie had unexpectedly received
a considerable sum in payment of an
old debt, and, with characteristic generosity,
spent it all upon this gift for her?his pet,
his darling, as she had always been, for
whom nothing was too expensive or too
good. She had scolded him gently for his
extravagance, reminding him that lie needed
many, things for himself, but afterwards
yielded, with pleasurable girlish vanity and
stisfaetion, when he fastened the cross to a
chain she wore around her neck, and told
her with a kiss, that she was as worthy to
wear diamonds as any lady in the land.
Could she bear to part with it, this souvenir
of her dead father's love? She looked
| at the glittering trinket, then at the sleepi
ing husband's shadowy face, and her resolve
was taken. She would sell the cross; but of
' whom, in a small place likeSandville, could
she hope to get an adequate sum for it?
Finally she dispatched a note to Miss Lat|
imer, asking her to come to her, as she
I wished to consult her on a matter of impor|
tance.
It happened that Miss Latimer had been
for some time absent, viisiting her brother's
j family on thecoast, and had but just learned
! on her return, of the Warrens' trouble.
! She came full of condolences and regrets,
j and hearty offers of assistance in any form
i that would be most acceptable; and Celes
tine did not hesitate to accept the otter.
"1 can do very well here, dear Miss Latimer,
as I have done all along; but outside
business I can't attend to, and so I have
sent for you to ask if you would kindly unj
dertake a commission for me." Then she
i showed her the cross, and asked if site would
! try and find a purchaser for it, as soon as
; possible.
Miss Latimer looked at the jewel, then
J at its owner, with a troubled and doubtful
expression.
j "It's yours, is it, Mrs. Warren?"
"Yes; my father gave it tome, long ago."
"And you want to sell it!"
"I must," said Celestine, gently. "We
; need the money badly, and there is no other
way."
i "Dear me !" said Miss Latimer sympathetically.
"Are things so bad as all that?"
"At present they are. 1 trust they will
i mend. By and by, when Mr. Warren gets
well, I may find something to do, by which
! I can earn a little; and perhaps the Mis
j sionary lioaru win ue auie to senu ins sauiry
before long. But you see we mud raise
| some money some way; and I hate to borrow.
After all, the cross is of very little use
to me. When do I ever pet a chance to
wear it ? It is an expensive thing altogether
unsuitable for my circumstances. The
I question is, do you think you can manage
to dispose of it for me? I am a little afraid
i you will find it difficult."
"As to that," said Miss Latimer, my
brother's son is a jeweller, and does a large
business in San Francisco. If 1 can get it
to him, I know he'll attend to it for you."
"There will be considerable delay, I am
afraid," said Celestine, anxiously.
"I'll tell you what I'll do, Mrs. Warren?
(I'll go to the city myself, and see about it
for you. I'd as lief take the trip as not?
I've got a little business down there that
i ought to be looked after anyhow, and so?"
"Now, Miss Latimer, that is too transparent,"
said Celestine, with a faint smile.
! "You know perfectly well that you had no
| idea of going, until 1 spoke to you. No,
take the cross home with you, and if you
can hear of any reliable person about to visit
San Francisco, make the necessary arrangements
for me; if not, you may find
; out some way of disposing of it here. At
i any rate, do the best you can for me, and I
1 shall be perfectly satisfied."
Miss Latimer said no more, bu t accepted
; the commission; and as good fortune would
have it, she was able to find a purchaser for
the cross without sending it away. A gentleman,
to whom she applied in confidence;
bought it as a present for his wife, for about
two-thirds its original value; and Miss Latimer
had the pleasure, two days afterwards,
of placing in Celestine's hands a sum which
would be sufficient for her expenses for some
weeks to come, at least, and thus stave off
the pressure of anxiety which now weighed
so heavily upon her.
She shed a tear or two in secret over the
sacrifice she had made ; but the nain it cost
her was trifling, compared with the pleasure
she felt in being able to render this asssistance
to one she loved.
[to de continued.]
ffiograjrlucHl ?cpattment.
SENATOR MATT W. RANSOM,
OF NORTH CAROLINA.
This senator from North Carol ina has enjoyed
his present distinction since April 24,
1872. He was elected in January of that
year, and returned for the full term of six
years iu 187G. Senator Matt W. Ransom
was born in Warren county, North Carolina,
in 1820. He was graduated at the University
of North Carolina in 1847, and at the
same time admitted to the bar. His enter
prise as a planter made him wealth and
gave him local distinction. He was attorney-general
of North Carolina from 1852 to
1855, when he retired. In 1858, and again in
18C0, he was elected to the legislature of the
State. He was a member of the Montgomery
Congress of 1801. When the war
. began he became a lieutenant-colonel in the
, Confederate army, from which he rose by
the successive steps of colonel and brigadiergeneral,
to the rank of major-general. He
laid down his arms with General Lee at Appomattox.
In public, as in private life, he enjoys the
confidence of the people of his State, and
ranks among the ablest members of the
United States Senate.
SOME COLD DAYS.
It is a bit of coincidence that the comet
upon which Napoleon's soldiers gazed several
years ago, when they were making
that dreadful March from Moscow, which
resulted in the death from cold and exposure
of 400,000 men, should be accompanied
on its reappearance with a bitter cold spell
of weather. When it swept out of sight the
world witnessed an unusually severe winter.
The incident, as well as the present
cold snap, recalls other severe winters. In
October," 763, and February, 764, the denizens
of the cities of mosques and minarets
were astonished by a cold spell of weather,
! and the two seas at Constantinople were frozen
over for twenty days. In 1063 the
Thames was frozen over for fourteen weeks.
In 1407 the cold was so intense in England
that all the small birds perished, and in 1433
the large fowl of the air were driven by the
terrible cold into the towns and cities of
Germany.
In 14GS the winter was so severe in Flanders
that the wine distributed was cut with
hatchets.
The year 1658 was noted for cold weather
in England. Thousands of forest and shade
, trees were split by frost, hares and stock
perished, a line of stages ran on the Thames
for several weeks and shops were built on
the ice in the middle of the Thames.
In 1810 the wolves were driven by the
I cold into Vienna, where they attacked men
and cattle on the street.
In 1810 quicksilver froze in the thermometer
bulbs at Moscow. One of the most remarkable
changes of temperature was witnessed
at Hornsey and Hammersmith, near
London, in 1867. The thermometer was
three degrees below zero on the 4th of January
and seventy-four hours later it had leap
ed to fifty-five degrees above zero.
With respect to America some of the remarkable
cold spells were as follows: In
1736, and again in 1821, New York harbor
was frozen over so that teams were driven
across the ice to Staten Island. The neighboring
State of Indiana saw weather cold
! enough to congeal the mercury in 1855. The
; Wlllivi v/i loui iiiuu^ iiiviiivtuwiv ./j ^w?v*
i weather. ()n the l;lth and 26th clays of Janj
uary many deaths occurred from the intense
! cold, and the residents of Mobile saw the
I thermometer sink to zero.
A record of cold sieges would, he imperfect
without a mention of the terribly sudden
storm that swept over the country in
18").'}, which had gone into history as the
cold New Year's. A drayman was frozen
to death in Cincinnati while driving along
the street; a man climbing a fence in Minnesota
froze to death and toppled over into
the snow, while the loss of human and
animal lives fn all parts of the country was
: immense?Cleveland Herald.
How the Reading Farmer is Known.
The reading farmer is always known by the
thrift and comfort of his home. His home
has not the appearance of a mere lodging
place, but it has a comfortable look, and in
I most cases is surrounded with trees and is
I ornamented with shrubs and flowers. Jn
I many cases a closely mown lawn surrounds
i the house, giving, as it does- to compar|
atively cheap buildidgs, an air of elegance
and refinement seldom seen except in
; suburban homes.
The reading farmer is also known by the
[ convenient arrangement of the house and
barns. These will be found to be arranged
I so as ro save steps. i iiu uum iu.u uj mumvenicntly
arranged buildings on the farm is
generally under-estimated by farmers who
do not read. Reading begets thought, and
thought begets action in the right direction.
There is no reason why farm life should
( not be more attractive than it is. A few
1 more books and papers will do much as esJ
sential aids in solving the desired problem,
i The reading farmer is known by his words
| and works.?Planters' Journal.
; Quakkklixu.?If any thing in the world
will make a man feel badly, except pinching
his fingers in the crack of a door, it is a
j quarrel. No man fails to think less of himself
after than he did before; it degrades
him in the eyes of others, and what is worse, i
; tends to blunt his sensibilities, and increase
j his irritability. The truth is, the more!
I peaceably and quietly we get on, the better
I for our neighbors. In nine cases out of ten, j
the course is, if the man cheats you, to quit
I dealing with him ; if he slanders you, take |
j care to live down his slander.-. Let such i
j persons alone, for there is nothing better!
than this way of dealing with those who in- j
jure.
of jjf IRiototg.
REMINISCENCES OF YORK.
BY Dr. MAURICE A. MOORE.
From the Yorkville Enquirer, 1H70.
COLONEL WILLIAM IIILL.
The first iron works erected in the upper
part of the State stood on Allison's creek,
the present site, I understand, of flourishing
flour mills and a carding factory. They
were owned by William Hill. These works
were a most important enterprise and an
incalculable benefit to the whole vicinity.
The loss of them when burnt by the tories
of Ferguson's command, was felt by farmers
and soldiers of the surrounding country,
to be the bitterest blow the enemy could
have inflicted. The farmers knew not where
to obtain the implements necessary to till
the soil, and feared they might be forced to
return to the wooden plough. The latter
missed the ordnance obtained from the
forge to visit vengeance on the foe, who was
daily harrassing their friends and country.
So, more than one g<axl Presbyterian echoed
"Amen" to Elder John Miller, who when
sometime after the event, being desired tc
pray, with all solemn fervor said "Good
Lord, our God who art in heaven, we have
reason to thank Thee for the many favors
received at Thy hands, the many battles
that has been won. There is one great and
glorious battle of King's Mountain, where
we kilt the great Gineral Ferguson and took
his whole army; and the great battles ol
Ramseur's and Williamson's, and the evei
memorable and glorious battle ol the Coopens,
[Cowpens] where we made the proud
Gincral Tarleton run (loon [down] the road
/ieIter skelter; and Good Lord, if ye had nd
suffered the cruel tories to burn Belly HelVi
[Billy Hill's] iron-works, we would na
have asked any viair favors at thy hand
Amen."
llill was a staunch Whig from the beginning
of the contest. lie and Neal wen
elected the Colonels of a regiment froir
York. (It was then required of each regiment
to have two officers of that grade)
lie was throughout the war an active patriot.
He fought at Williamson's, when
Ilouck was defeated and killed ; bore a mosi
conspicuous part in our effort at Rockj
Mount, and the gallant incident I now re
late, had it been performed by Putnam o;
some other Yankee hero, would have beer
chronicled in every common-school reade:
in the United States.
%v>nffnw Ihfnn offomnfc f \ ri\mr
will men imu, anci mm/ uviviiii'W) ui km
the garrison of Col. Trumbull's New Yorl
tories into some log houses which serve(
them as a fort, from which our men coulc
not dislodge them by assault for want o
artillery. Gen. Sumter conceived the plar
of "fighting the devil with fire," and eallet
for two men, as a forlorn hope, to execute it
The volunteers for this desperate servici
were Col. William Hill and Adjutant Jem
my Johnson. The duty was to run to a larg(
rock which stood within the abatis, eacl
carrying an armful of light-wood. Wher
they reached this rock, tney could screer
themselves behind it safely, and from thencf
throw the lighted wood on the roof of i
building adjoining the log fort. One hun
died yards did these men run in the face o
the enemy, the guns of the latter bearing
directly on them the whole distance. Thej
gained the shelter unhurt. Hill watch et
the enemy while Johnson ignited the pirn
and threw the burning brands on the top o
the nearest house. The tories soon perceiv
ing their design, a detail sallied forth anc
drove them from their position. They rai
back to our lines, not under the fire of tin
port-holes only, butthatof the detachmen
that had come out against them. A merer
ful Providence surely protected them; foi
thoir r*lnfhf>? wore rirlrilerl with bullet holes
and even locks of hair cut from their heads
yet they were unscathed. A heavy rail
falling extinguished the flames thus hazard
ously kindled, and Sumter ordered the firing
to cease, gave up the attempt and fell hact
to Landsford.
At the hard fought battle of "Hangiiif
Hock," Colonel Hill bore a part and receive!
a wound in the wrist. In fact, he and hii
regiment were under General Sumter to the
end of the Revolution, and shared in all his
stirring campaigns, always enjoying the en
tire confidence and affection of the "Game
Cock."
History still owes to the memory of Col
William Hill an important debt, for though
named in her records, his sacrifices and efforts
in the great cause of freedom hav<
never yet received their due meed of praise
Well may the shades of our partizan lead
ers cry?
"Tic that doth public good to the multitude
Finds that few are truly grateful."
I hope a biography of this valuable Revo
lutionary hero may yet be written, for sure
ly the incident at Rocky Mount would constitute
him one, without the many othei
deeds of valor which wreathe the laurel foi
his brow. I am aple to give but a meagre
outline. My materials are two imperfeel
and faulty?my memory too treacherous
to touch but lightly the theme. Xeitehi
does it come within the scope of these
"Reminiscences" to undertake so arduous s
task. I therefore leave it to those who come
after me to do the "noble Roman justice."
After the Act of 178o, establishing the
County Courts, he was elected one of th(
seven Judges. By the Act of 1791, whet:
the number of County Court Justices was
reduced to three, William Hill, Alexandei
.Moore and John McLanalmn "were elected
by joint nomination by the Senate and
House of Representatives," and administer
ed the law for years, and I do not remember
to have ever heard, in after days, a complaint
of wrong received at their hands
while occupying this position.
In 1790 the County Court system was
abolished and the people showed their affection
for and confidence in Colonel Ilill,
by sending him as one of their representatives
to the General Assembly.
He was a man of strong native talent,
with few early advantages, shrewd acuteness
and a firm integrity of purpose. He
was a man of wealth, amassed mostly b>
his own energy. The much lamented ironworks
were rebuilt by him after the war,
and were a source of considerable revenue.
1 remember him "in the sere and yellow
leaf"?when he was above seventy years,
but not showing any great infirmity from
age?a thin old man of medium height,
He was then in Yorkville on a visit of either
pleasure or business. He left four sons
and two daughters. Gen. D. II. Hill is a
descendant, on whom the mantle of his
grandsire has happily fallen.
In his old age Col. Hill wrote a history oi
Sumter's campaigns, but it was never published.
1 have seen the MS. The events
are well told, and if prejudices ran too high
toward some parties, in some pages, perhaps
he knew better than others of what he
i wrote. In consequence of some of the ali
lusions contained in the manuscript, his
, heirs considerately prevented its publieaI
tion. He died on his plantation at the ironj
works and was buried in Bethel grave-yard.
ALEXANDER MOORE.
Alexander Moore, of whom I have spoi
ken as one of the coleagues of Hill in 1791,
was the son of James Moore and Rachel
JJIacK, Ins WHO. iJiuy were itiiiuuy mc
original Scotch-Irish settlors of York. Ali
cxander was born in Pennsylvania, being a
child several years of age when hisfather removed
to this State. He was the eldest of a
large family of girls and boys. His parents,
though poor, determined, as was quite common
with the early Presbyterians, to educate
one of their sons lor die ministry. Naturally,
the election fell on their first-born for
these advantages. He was early sent to "the
lam in," and had all the opportunities of education
that early period afforded. A natural
taste for literature, united with a good
mind, made him a hard student, and, for
his times, a very finished scholar, lie
graduated at the College at Charlotte, North
Carolina, about the beginning of the Revolutionary
war, felt no calling to preach,
and the contest waging between the Colo
f I
nies and the mother country seemed to in-;
dicate to him the line of present duty. 1
His father, too, being a good Whig, as were
all the Scotch-Irish, saw his country's need, i
I and was reconciled to the abortion of his ;
| long cherished desire, by his son's volunj
teering to serve his country. Young Moore
| joined Colonel Lucy's partisans, and became
, the intimate friend of that gallant officer,
I the length and strength of whose attachment,
an anecdote, which I have often heard,
will show:
"Years after the war, on one occasion,
Moore was a candidate for the Legislature
from the Pinckney district. Lacy, at the
i polls in Chester, would station himself at a
. convenient spot, and as men approached,
would enquire for whom they intended to
( vote. If for the opponent of Moore, Lacy
would try his power of persuasion; and
being a man of pleasant address, and per.
sonal popularity, often, by this means would
! turn the ticket. But not succeeding this
wise, lie would roundly swear he'd whip
> an)/ man that didn't vote for Alec Moore."
His bravery and vigor were so well known,
i few cared to test them and he carried his
i point and his friend's election at that pre,
cinct.
Mr. Moore was one of the brave little
i band of patriots who attacked Houck at
i Williamson's where our men killed the
1 Philadelphia lawyer and routed his com!
mand completely, with hardly one man to
I his three. In the division of the spoils, a
> very tine gray mare fell to the share of
Alexander Moore, which he rode many a
! day in the rounds of Lacy's "rangers." * In
: 1781 (I think) he was elected a lieutenant,
f and was in the command of the company
' that guarded the bridge at the battle?near
Biggins Church?of Jumby's Bridge. About
I 1788 lie was elected Slier ill' of Camden dis1
trict, (under the constitution of 1778,) by the
1 Senate and House of Representatives, to
< serve for two years. He was re-elected to this
' odiee more than once. In 1789 lie declined
. a re-nomination, and was succeeded by Joseph
Brevard, (afterward Judge Brevard) of
Camden. In 1784 he married Miss Dorcas
i Ervin, and settled on "Big Fishing Creek,"
i on a plantation now owned by hisgrand-son,
William S. Moore. By this marriage he had
. four sons and four daughters. His wife died
early and left him with a young and help v
4%?v>lltt V>lti nrl/lAtcA/1 l?nndc! Qlin wou
t/li 1119 ?1UW?VU imnu.7. kjiav/ uuo
t a beautiful woman, and I remember being
7 tolcl by an old citizen, tbat in those days it
- was customary for ladies to accompany their
r husbands and brothers to the hustings; and
i at the elections she attended, she was alr
ways sure to win, by her popularity of manner,
many a vote for her husband. After
i the death of his lirst wife he bought a plant
tat ion from Edward Lacy, father of the Col.
1 Lacy already alluded to, twelve miles from
1 Yorkville, (now owned by a grandson, Alf
fred Moore), to which he removed. Soon
i after, he intermarried with Miss Catherine
1 Marion. By this marriage there was no is
sue. She survived him many years.
5 In 1789 he was a candidate from Pinckney
" district for the General Assembly, but was
i beaten. The cause of his defeat shows the
1 devotion of our early people to their pastors.
1 While a candidate, Mr. Moore had, on some
1 occasion that required it, expressed freely
} his opposition to the Rev. McCanna re1
maining in charge of Bethesda Church, of
" which congregation he was a member, from
f the habitual indulgence of the preacher in
' drunkenness. Relations and friends and
r neighbors, held up their hands in pious hor'
ror. To speak evil of the Lord's annointed
1 was a heresy beyond their ken, and were
' Alec Moore twice as near and dear, they
* could not send such a man to represent them
I in the Legislature. Thus, his own sections
1 of Chester and York failed him, and he was
^ left out. Before the election of new mem'
bers came, the minister had too evidently
" fallen from grace for his Hock to be 1)1 ind to
r his fault; for one day, when intoxicated,
> lie naci ascenueu tne puipn 10 try aim per>
form his sacred offices. In the revulsion of
1 feeling, "that Moore was right and they
" were wrong," to repair that wrong, to a
I man, they came forward and voted for him
: on the next election. This, united with the
forcible style of his friend, General Lacy,
j secured him a seat by a large majority, in
' 1792, he, with Hill and McLanahan, were
s elected the three County Court .Justices for
J York county?afterwards called "district."
> They continued in office until 1799, when
" these courts wore abolished, lie was sent
i again that year to the Legislature, and in
1800 was elected Ordinary, that office being
then established. This position he held till
1 his death, keeping his office at his planta
tion, where ho lived, twelve miles from the
} village; but for the convenience of the peo
j pie, always spending Court week and sale"
days at the Court Houses He was often
called upon to perform the marriage ceremony,
and I recall a scene I witnessed at
his house sixty-five years ago, and relate it
to show how a "bif/ icedd'mr/" was managed
i in those days:
Between ten and eleven o'clock in the
; morning, some of the party descried a caval[
cade of apparently thirty-five or forty per*
sons coming up the road which ran past
^ Mr. Moore's residence. In front rode two
I men and then behind them two and two,
[ two and two, a gentleman and lady; the
* entire crowd paired off, and thus strung
1 out, magnified their appearance and pre1
sen ted an imposing a spectacle as possible.
As they drew near enough to distinguish
! faces, the Moores recognized in the first
* gentleman and lady, a couple who were to
1 be married that day,and though no warning
J had been given, knew the meaning of the
j* escort. About one hundred yards from the
house, the procession halted. The foremost
1 riders who were the "bottle carriers," turned
their horses and rode back the whole
length of the line (one on the left, the other
on the right), stopping at each couple, be>
ginning of course with the bridal pair, presenting
simultaneously to each lady and
' her escort the bottle of whisky ; this everyone
kissed in turn, all remaining quiet,
> ! reigning in their restive steeds till the
' i "creature comfort" was partaken of by all,
and the carriers resumed their places in
> front. This evolution accomplished, the
"goodlie company" moved on. When they
; were in front of the house they entered
the large gate and rode around the house
' three times, the men firing off pistols,
!l 1--1 ...!i 1? 4-1 wv
1 . loaueu wiui puwui'r, lit wilien hivt jiui.-5c.-7
;! of the Indies, as well as those of the genj
tlemen, would rear and pitch; but female
1 j equestrians of that day were not easily
1 j thrown, and 110 accident occurred to mar
the pleasures of the occasion. After coin'
j pleti ng the circle of the house, each time
1 i there would be a pause, for the "bottle, car
I riers" to make their rounds. The third
' 1 time they dismounted, hitched their horses,
! formed and came into the house. Squire
; Moore went forward to the piazza to re'
1 ceive them. They announced their desire
1 for him to marry the candidates for the holy
I state. He invited them in and without de!
lay performed the ceremony with due sol!
emnity. After which?the bridal party,
: being almost all of them acquaintances and
1 neighbors?the tables and chairs were clear;
ed out of the hall. Some one among them
| being a musician had brought his instrument
and then commenced what would be
literally "tne iigniiamasiicioe-toine pres!
ent generation. The pir/eon-winr/ and ftyhujI
shuffle*, tramped to the merry measure of
I the fiddler's high-land-fling and Irish-jig?
"Xae cotillion brent frao France,
Hut hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, reels,
Put life and mettle in their heels
till dinner hour approached. Then they!
began to make their arrangements for leaving.
Of course the Squire must accompany i
them to the feast at the residence of the |
! groom's mother. At first he declined, but
as it was about two miles he consented to
go; with this and some other accession to
their numbers, they remounted andfell into
line. The "bottle carriers," with flasks replenished
again handed the exhilarating
beverage to all, three cheers were given for j
the new married folks, and away they cantered
with merry hearts and good appetites
to partake of the abundant cheer prepared
by old Mrs. Brown.
"How ridiculous!" does some young
maiden exclaim? In three generations
from now will not our fashions be as outrei
What think you would your grand-dames
feel were they to glance in at a modern party
and see you whirling by, with some gay
cavalier, in one of the favorite round dances?
I hope the girls in a good time coining, will
not only cry, at the description of them,
how absurd; but how disgusting!"
Squire Moore was a man always before the
people, and tilled the various oifices of trust
reposed in him, with ability to his State,
and satisfaction to his community. Ilis
manners were urbane and his hospitality
unbounded. He had a tine person, commanding,
almost stern appearance, and was
one of the few men of his day who always
wore a black broad cloth suit, rullled shirt
and high topped beaver hat. He had some
peculiar religious notions, but was orthodox
in his faith, and died a triumphant death in
the sixty-third year of his age. He was
buried in the Bethel grave-yard, of which
church he had for years been a member.
[to he continued.]
^IlisccUaucottS Reading.
| ONE-ARME1> MEX FOR EMERGENCIES.
"A one-armed man for emergencies, every
time," exclaimed an old railroad official to
a New York Tribune reporter, in the heat
of an argument on the prevention of collissions
and other accidents. "I never knew
one to fail in time of danger. The loss of
an arm seems to increase their wits, and 1
can name several instances of their display
of nerve and invention when other men
were of no use. Do you remember Ross
Alarchman? No? Well, I'll tell you the
kind of fellow he was, when he worKeci
under nie on the Piedmont Air-Line road.
There is, not far from the South Carolina
line, a small town called Sewanee. It is
several hours' ride from Atlanta, Ga., and
contains about 500 people. The telegraph
operator at the depot is station agent, express
ageut, ticket agent, truckman and
porter. In fact, he runs the whole business,
and his is a responsible position. He often
works all day and all night, and it is a
strain to keep up with the work in the busy
season. Ross March man was telegraph operator
and-so-forth at Sewanee. lie was
about 22 years old and had lost his right
arm. How in the world he ever managed
to perform his multiplicity of duties is a
mystery, but he was never found wanting
in any of the qualifications necessary to a
successful accomplishment of every task.
We all had confidence in Marchman. One
night in November, 1882, he was sitting
half asleep over his key, worn out by fatigue,
when he was aroused by hearing
himself called by the train dispatcher. He
answered, and the following order came
over the wires: 'Side-track No. 12, northbound,
Sewanee, 1 a. m. Hold for extra
No. ;J, south-bound, 1.04 a. m.' There was
nothing unusual in the order. Marchman
'O. K'd' it, and made the necessary preparations
for flagging down No. 12, which,
being a through freight, did not stop at
~L.l: 1 4-^ ,1,, 0/?
Way SianuilS Ullicsa .^ij;uiwicn IU uw nu
The night was dark and stormy, and the
wind blew in gusts, driving the rain into
every crack and crevice. The track from
the north past the station had a heavy downgrade,
and it was the custom of the engineers
to blow a long blast on the whistle,
when their trains crossed the summit, some
half a mile away. Number 12 was on time,
and when Marchman heard the blast he
took his lantern and went out on the track.
The head-light rose over the summit like a
full moon climbing the hills, and Hashed
down the rails. The rain came down in
torrents, the wind whistled past the corners
of the station with an omnious sound,
the train came thundering on. Marchman
raised his lantern and swung it across the
track, but before the signal could be given
a fitful gust of wind put out the light. The
train was not 200 yards off, and had not
slackened its speed. There was no time to
get another lamp. It was a moment of horror
to the poor operator. No. H, with its
freight and passengers, was coming just
beyond the town?the two trains would
meet?collision?destruction?death?all
passed before his mind like a flash of lightning.
lie felt the quivering of the ties beneath
his feet as he stood in the full glare ol
the light now fearfully close. Suddenly
his hand sought his pocket; there was a
flash, a sharp report of a pistoi, and a bullet
t. ,,.1. tl,n The
\\ l_'IJ I CJU&lll Iiy unuu^u uic iibmuignii ..v
lamp was extinguished, and as the engineer
passed him, Marchman threw the pistol
into the cab window. Well the train was
stopped, and the conductor coming forward
to see what was wrong, reached Marchman
just in time to receive his orders, when the
latter, overcome from the terrible strain,
fell down on "the ground. The train was
run into the siding, and No. .3 dashed by at
about 40 miles an hour. Not a passenger
dreamed of what had happened." "01
course," continued the official, "we remembered
Marchman in a substantial way. The
one arm, though, was the making of him."
TIIK UAUE OF THE JiiYES.?ine eye is
one of the most delicate organs of the body,
and partial 01* total blindness is one of the
things to be deplored and to be carefully
guarded against.
Even strong eyes soon become weakened
and often diseased by being carelessly
treated.
When reading or working the light should
always fall over the left shoulder, and the
book or work should never he held nearer
to the eyes than necessary.
I Jtis always important to sit up straight.
Stooping is not only injurious to the eyes,
I but to the lungs and spine.
J Never work in the twilight or by a dim
| light.
Reading or writing in a car or carriage is
hurtful to the eyes.
If you work by gaslight the jet should be
j shaded, and the light clear and steady.
Do not read in bed, nor lying down, nor
| in a swinging hammock. Sleep in a well
| ventilated room, and lie in such a position
' that a bright light will not strike your eyes
! when you waken. Bathe your eyes freely
I each night and morning with cold water to
I \\T hinh oriel n lifflo Sillt.
If your eyes are weary or painful from
i close application, rest them by closing them,
j or looking away from your work, or bathe
' then", with cold water, or with extract of
witch hazel.
Anv foreign substance in the eye can usu!
ally be removed by taking the upper eyej
lid between the thumb and linger, and drawI
ing it down over the under lid, gently pres!
sing it toward the nose.
Little children should be particularly
eareful not to distort their eyes by constant
winking or twitching of the eye-lids or
turning the eyes toward the nose. Many
children have become permanently crosseyed
and others seriously injure their eyesight
by those pernicious practices.
Children who are near-sighted should immediately
be provided with glasses by a
competent optician, and by this means a
cure is often effected.
Phenomena of a Tounano.?Appalling
accompaniments of the cyclone were perhaps
never more completely illustrated than
in Izard county. The course of the storm
was from southwest to northeast, and commencing
one and a half miles southwest of
Melbourne. The swath cut through the
fifhinn milncin Innortll 'Phn vviflth
of its truck varies from two hundred yards
to three quarters of a mile. Eight or ten
miles away thecloud accompanying the tornado,
was observed so be of an inky black
color, "boiling," and almost incessantly illuminated
by flashes of electricity. Five
miles distant, the same character of boiling
black cloud was seen to be followed by a
long pillar of intense white cloud. Near at
hand the white cloud, apparently driving
the whirling black one before it, defined
itself as a pillar of fire.
In the midst of the storm the survivors
viewed the cone of the tornado as a huge
ball of fire rolling along the ground. Mr.
S. B. Toler, of La Crosse, whose house the
tornado also destroyed, and being in its
very midst, details that the condition of the
I center of the cyclone was that of a system
of fiery balls as large as one's thumb, their
I multitude greater than any human mind
| could conceive, and in that apparent state
of ignition hustling through tne air. This
, experience of Mr. Toler is shared by others
J who were in its midst, and almost every
one wrecked in the storm at La Crosse is
| tatooed with bruises the size of a quarter
and half dollar, which must have been done
I either by a mass of pebbles heated to redness
or by small bodies of some kind having
| force enough to bruise but not to penetrate
the skin.
At the distance of eight and ten miles the
: flashes of electricity were so incessant and
I 4-1? y-x s\C wi'n/l onrl flmnrlor onfl
llli; UUJillllWllWii WI \> iiiu (VI1VA buuuuvAf uiivt
possibly failing timber, as to almost paralyze
one with terror. Nearer at hand the
sounds were magnified tenfold, with also an
additional accompaniment for the ears of
those who were lirst beyond the edge of the
storm of miilions of exploding bombs and
torpedoes?Little Rock Gazette.
a fixeTomplexion.
To soften and whiten the skin there is
nothing more beneficial than oatmeal, takken
internally and used externally. As I
have no wish to encroach upon the housewife's
domain, I'll" simply give directions
for its external use. After a warm bath it
may be used dry, or pour boiling waterover
a few teaspoonfuls of it, and let it stand a
few hours. On going to bed, wash the
hands and face freely in the starchy water,
and dry without wiping. Bran and Indian
meal may be used instead, with nearly the
same effect. For the full bath put the bran
or oatmeal into small bags, otherwise the
difficulty of removing the particles which
adhere to the skin is considerable.
Instead of the poultices of bread and asses'
milk which the Roman ladies found so
fnr snftenimr nn?1 whitaninrr the
face, we may use a mask of quilted cotton
or chamois skin, wet in cold distilled water.
This will not be the most comfortable
in the world, but no great excellence is ever
attained without labor and care. Many ladies
whose complexions are the envy of all
their friends, acknowledge that they owe it
all to distilled water, which they used for
their face and hands. Queen Victoria is to
i be envied for one thing, if nothing else, for
; she has the delightful comfort and luxury
of having distilled water for all her baths.
Ladies with oily or greasy skins may use,
. sparingly, a few drops of camphor in the
bath. Borax and glycerine combined is
used with good effect by some people, while
, thoroughly disagreeing with others. Glyc.
erine alone softens and heals, but in time
will darken the skin and make it over-sensitive
; the borax obviates this, and has a
, tendency to whiten. No toilet table is complete
without a bottle of ammonia. A few
drops of this in the bath cleanses the skin
and stimulates it wonderfully. It is espe|
cially valuable in removing the odor from
those who perspire freely.
To remove tan and sun-burn, cold cream,
mutton tallow and lemon juice maybe used;
for freckles apply the latter, with a tiny
camel's hair brush. The country girl, de,
prived of many things which her city cousin
tinds indispensable, discovers that she can
remove tan from her face with a wash made
of green cucumbers sliced into skim milk,
or. failincr in this, she makes a decoction of
buttermilk and tansy.
A well-known writer on feminine beauty
recommends the use of finely-ground French
, charcoal for the complexion. A teaspoonful
of this, well mixed with water or honey,
should he taken for three successive nights,
followed by a simple purgative, to remove
it from the system. The aperient must not
! he omitted or the charcoal will remain in
the system, a mass of festering poison, with
all the impurities it absorbs.
, None of these things will bring about the
desired result unless the foundation is first
! laid by proper food, exercise and bathing;
| above all things do not neglect the bath.
, Cleanliness is one of the cardinal virtues,
. and a woman fresh from the bath feels a
; good deal like an angel.?Dio Lewi*.
Tobacco and the Voice.?While tobac;
co is now well known to injure the system
! in every possible way, and to an extent not
generally appreciated, the voice is affected
more than may be supposed. It may not
be of much use to warn the enslaved victim.
of tobacco to give it up, having as a general
principle, lost much decision of character
! by its degrading influence ; but it may be
well to warn the young, who may be willing
to receive advice from older persons. The
i effect on the voice may be a little more apparent
than upon certain other organs. On
this point there is the best medical authori,
ty in decided condemnation. Dr. Allen
says: "Tobacco injures the voice, of which
any one can be convinced by observing the
harsh, thick, husky, mumbling-, ana msoni
orous voice of the confirmed tobacco user."
r Prof. Mueso says: "The habitual useofto!
bacco in any of its forms produces a harsh,
, squeaking condition of the voice." I)r.
Woodward, well known in connection with
the Massachusetts Lunatic Asylum, is even
i more direct in his opposition to the use of
the poison, declaring hat "nearly every
: case of bronchitis and loss of voice is either
directly caused or aggravated by the habitual
use of tobacco." The testimony of such
men, of great attainments in medical science?men
of experience and observationis
entitled to consideration.?Golden Rule.
> Grasping Too Much.?It has occasioned
surprise to the readers of modern history
that Philip II. of Spain failed to conquer
the revolted provinces of the Netherlands.
He was the most powerful monarch of the
age. Under him were the most celebrated
generals of the day, the Duke of Alve and
the Prince of Parma, who commanded the
finest and best disciplined soldiers in Europe.
His revenue, drawn principally from
the New World, was much larger than that
of any other monarch of his time.
: But he was beaten on land and at sea by
I a few Dutch States, with little wealth and
less discipline, and was compelled to cede
i their independence. Spain soon after set!
tied into a third-rate power. He failed, like
great speculators to-day, by grasping at too
j much.
He longed to be sovereign of all Europe,
and built the Armaua tosuouue rmgiaim,
j and {fathered an army to conquer France.
J lad he been content with subduing the revolted
colonists, the work might easily have
been carried through. But when the Prince
of Parma had a fine army equal to the emergency,
Philip, instead of supporting it, lavished
all his treasures on the expeditions
[ against England and France, and accomplished
nothing. The Prince begged importunately
for money, but Philip sent it
where it did little good, and the Prince, dis|
heartened, was able to accomplish little.
I Grasping too much, the King lost all.
The Art of Advertising.?The newsj
paper has become the legitimate inheritor
; of the patronage of advertisers. It offers
: advantages that no other vehicle possesses,
| and it costs less than most others. It can
| not now be assumed that the advertising
pages of a paper are so carefully read as the
news portions, but it has gradually educated
the reader to look for what he or she wants
in the advertising columns, and those who
read the paper quietly at home are far more
j inclined to go over their wants and look
i where to supply them, than the man in the
street who is probably thinking moreofsell
inghisown goods than of buying his neigh:
bor's. Then the scope of this method of adI
vertising is al nost endless. It takes in busil
ness cards or two line notices, or it may cover
an entire page, and there is a chance for
i literarv display. Many large business houses
keep a" gentleman of education and skill in
literary matters to superintend this department
of their business, and it is wonderful
how much he can find to say on what would
seem to be a hackneyed subject. Indeed,
the art of advertising is to be always fresh
and new, yet clear and concise, to be humorous
when humor will tell, but to be plain
and direct. The nearer an advertisement
harmonizes with the general drift of the paper
the more likely it is to be read and make
an impression.?Km / Vfmrisro Calf.