" ISSUED SEKI-WEESL^^
lT"iTgeist & sons, Publisher..} % <#amitg ftespaper^ <jfor the promotion of the jpolitieat, Social, Agricultural, and gommeijtiat Interests of the ?togle. |m'L^lVmEc""W'
ESTABLISHED 185^ YORKVILLE, S. C., "WEDNESDAY, APRIL 16, 1902. NO. 31.
- ? . : ; I "i
THE SPUR
BY ASBLE
Copyright, 1901, by Charles B. Etherlngt
CHAPTER III.
THE BALL OF TUE QCATRE-Z-ART8.
HEN they came to the
jKy^J^rW end of the street, they
fountl more lights and
a livelier region; but,
for Paris, it was not
muc'1 t0 boast of, and
cabs were scarce. At
Jurf Inst, however, they
were able to waylay
an empty vehicle, Into which Darrell
assisted the lady of the brown eyes.
Where would monsieur wish to go?
It was the cabman's question, and
Darrell seemed not to hear it.
"You were on your way"? he began
and paused.
"To the Place Blanche," said the
coachman.
"Ah. yes," responded Darrell. "We
will go to the Place Blanche."
He took his place in the carriage and
became immediately aware that his
companion was shivering pitifully. As
the night was unseasonably warm, this
phenomenon required an explanation.
"You are ill?" he asked.
"Frightened." she answered. "1 am
quaking with terror. Absurd, now that
It Is all over!"
And then she burst Into tears, weeping
with a perfect self abandonment
which he was sufficiently experienced
to recognize as the best possible relief.
Her calmness in the first minutes
of their acquaintance had been
Bstoundlnir and doubtless had been no
less so in tbe terrible scenes tbat bad
preceded her extraordinary rescue.
Darrell now saw at what expense it
bad been maintained.
Consolation and tenderness are inseparably
connected, and before Darrell
was really aware of It be was
holding ber baud aud caressing it as
lunocently as if she bad been a hurt
child. Then suddenly she was a woman
again, and be was u inau of the
world restrained by all the barriers of
conventionality.
"I am not often so weak." she said.
"You would be surprised to know what
1 have borne without a tear. But I
have no iutentiou of burdening you
with my sorrows. Help ine through a
few more miuutes until I have formed
a plau. and then I will relieve you absolutely
of all care of me."
"Surely there must be some one with
whom you would wish to communicate."
he said.
"There are a few to whom 1 would
send word." she replied, "but unfortunately
I do not kuow just where they
are. Certaiuly they can he of uo use
to me this ulgbt. Moreover, it Is disagreeable
to mention the circumstance,
but 1 am absolutely without money. I
bad a purse containing a small sum,
but It Is gone. There Is more at the
bouse where 1 have been living, but I
dare Dot visit It for I think tbe Russian
agents are Ignorant of tbe fact
tbat I dwelt there, and I would not
direct their attention to my friends.
Perhaps tomorrow I can send word."
"1 will agree to manage tbat," said
Darrell, "and In tbe meantime let me
say in tne gentlest way tuat money
does not enter Into this problem. I
have a large pocketful, and of course
you are more than weleOtne to all you
may need. As to the night, we eoukl
ride In this cab till daylight if necessary,
but I would rather you should
have rest, and as to that I have a plan.
I have some friends at the students'
ball?Mr. and Mrs. Gordon. Americans
and very nice people; precisely the sort
for an emergency such as this. 1 have
a card for the ball. It was my Intention
to go, but I changed my mind.
And now fate has chauged it for me in
the other direction. If you wouldn't
mind waiting in this carriage near the
Moulin Rouge, I might go in and consult
Mrs. Gordon. She is a person of
expedients."
"You cannot ask her to take any Interest
In me." said the girl. "She does
not know me. and I have no means of
making myself truly known to you.
The circumstances of our meeting are
a poor guarantee in such a matter."
"There Is. however." said Darrell.
"such a thing as instinctive recognition
of Individual character I have seen
J
"I am Vera Shcvaloj}.'
good and bad women, very many of
both, and 1 bnve seen women ol birth
and breeding and others who lacked
those advantages. Such being the case,
though I have known you less than an
hour. 1 am uol troubled by the smallest
doubt. I shall tell Mrs. Gordon exactly
what has happened: I shall tell
her precisely what I believe of you. aud
then, if I know her"?
: OF FATE.
ITT TOWNB.
on.
"What can she do? She cannot take
me to her home."
Darrell turned more directly toward
her. From the brightly lighted street
there came a glow sufficient to Illuminate
the Interior of the carriage, and
the girl's face was clearly defined.
"Why not?" be asked. "My friends
have nothing to fear from tbe czar's
spies. Tbe fact that you are persecuted
and pursued will merely make tbem
tbe more anxious to befriend you.
Tbey are not afraid of anything, and.
as Tor annoyance, heaven help tbe man
who tries to annoy Robert Gordon. 1
have knowu biui a good many years.
Therefore 1 soy to you. Why not?"
"There is no reason whatever," she
said, looking blui straight in tbe eyes.
"1 am Vera Sbevuloff. tbe daughter of
a prince, i am of tbe bouse of Konstautin
of Stavropol."
"Stavropol!" exclaimed Darrell.
"Why ure you surprised?"
"Because 1 have recently met Ivan
Getehikoff. son of tbe governor general
of tbe province." answered Darrell.
"I saw bim tbis afternoon In tbe
company of Ladislov, tbe man whom
1 believe to have been tbe coachman
of your prison ou wheels. It cannot
be that Getehikoff assisted bim in that
enterprise?"
"ir it was be. I did not recognize
him." she replied. "1 doubt Indeed,
whether I should know Ivan in broad
daylight, and tbis man I scarcely saw
at all."
"I think be would be abo7e such
work." said Darrell.
"Tbe Getchikoffs are proud." she
said, "but cruel as wolves. Tbey are
all powerful In Stavropol today, both
In tbe city and the province. It Is
probable that I should have been taken
there for some form of trial, though
as to that I am merely making a guess.
I hnco n/v merino nf knnwintr whnt
would bave been done wltb me except
tbat 1 should eventually bave been
sent back to Siberia."
"Sent back!" exclaimed Darrell.
"Have you been there?"
"I accompanied my father," she answered
calmly. "Upon the downfall
of my family four years ago be was
exiled, and my mother and myself
chose to share bis fate, though we
might have avoided it. As to what we
suffered, there are now many books
which describe the long journey and
the horrors tbat are reserved for those
who survive it. My mother lived more
than two years nl'ter we reached the
prison settlement to which we were assigned;
my father, some months longer.
Iu Stavropol, my friend, there is
a cathedral which my father built, and
within it is a tomb of white marble.
The snows of Siberia are whiter than
the marble, and perhaps my father and
my mother sleep as well in one place as
another. Let us not think of it."
"But you!" exclaimed Darrell. "You
escaped?"
"1 was released."
"Then how can you be sent back?"
"Because." said Vera, extending a
white hand from the folds of the cloak
into the light and holding it clinched in
a peculiar manner, "in order to avoid
a fate worse than Siberian exile 1
drove a knife into the heart of Nicholas
Gorski. governor of the district."
"Thank God!" gasped Darrell in voluntarilv.
!
"The order for my release liad already
arrived." Vera continued, "and
Gorski dared not suppress or delay It.
I knew wbat must happen the instant
that I heard of the arrival of the order,
and so 1 prepared the knife for myself.
But circumstances made it possible for
me to sheath it elsewhere than in my
own breast. It was all very fortunate.
I am told that six months had elapsed
and 1 was far from Siberia before the
suspicion arose that I had struck him
down. His death was a mystery.
Even now. If I were disposed to deny
it in a fair tribunal, the act could not
be proved. That is why I shall never
be openly arrested outside of Russia."
"You came to Paris?"
"Eventually, yes. But I have been In
many parts of Europe, even in Stavropol.
though that was a great risk, for
the Getchikoffs. who plotted and accomplished
my father's destruction,
would make short work with uie. I
went to obtain funds that he had hid
den. and I was successful. Since com
ing to Paris I have harbored with nl
hilists. and that is why I am unable to
seek any refuge this night. If I am an
object of pursuit upon my own account.
I must not attract the hounds
toward another quarry. Now you have
my story. Shall you tell It to Mrs.
Gordon?"
"Most certainly," answered Darrell,
"and the sooner the better. I am only
sorry that you cannot go with me into
the ball, but unmasked it would not be
best. I am afraid to leave you alone In
the carriage."
"It is impossible that they should
have followed me," she said. "I shall
not be alarmed."
Darrell glanced out of the cab window.
"We are in the Rue Blanche," he
said. "It Is the Church of La Trinite
* i.. it. ~ I,
that we have just passeu 10 me n-n
there. It is a matter of five minutes
now. By heaven. I wish it were not
necessary to leave you!"
"I - think it would be best for you,"
said she, "to leave me forever. I am
a dangerous companion for you or for
your friends. It is monstrous that I
should permit you to interest them in
me Why Is it not best that I should
take the hint you have given me and
ride in this cab all night?"
"Alone?" cried Darrell. "If I am to
desert you In tbat way, let the driver
take us to the river first I am not the
man who could live after such treason.
And, besides, you haven't any money to
pay the fellow in the morning, which
reminds me tbat 1 mus. lend you some,
for it Isn't safe to be without it In Paris
for a minute."
"I cannot take It," protested Vera,
and while they were disputing upon
this point the carriage rolled out Into
the Place Blanche and presently stopped
amid a press of vehicles before the
| portals of the Moulin Rouge.
Darrell directed the cabman to go on
a little way, and then alighted. Imme?
* ??? ? ?^P vno
aiaieiy ue was aware ui iwv ugum,
man and woman, who were hurrying
toward blm. The man was frocked
like a gray friar, with cord and cowl;
the woman wore a fawn colored domino,
and she twirled a mask by Its, cord
She had abundant dark brown hair,
and she was tall, like Vera. Her companion
was a six footer, and he looked
a giant In bis gray robe.
"I beg your pardon." he said In English.
"Are you done with the cab? All
these are engaged."
"You leave the ball early," said Darrell,
without answering the question.
"Is It less interesting than usual?"
"We say goodby to Paris at sunrise,"
the young man replied. "Isn't that
beastly? We have Just time to get to
our lodgings and finish packing. You
are an American, aren't you?"
"Yes." replied Darrell. "I'm an American.
as you are. and I'm in a bit of a
fix also, as you are. You want a cab,
and 1 want to go into the ball with my
friend, but we can't do It without costumes.
If we don't get any, I shall be
obliged to go In alone, and she will
wnlt in thp rah: so vou can't have it.
If, on tbe other hnnd, you will sell me
your frock?are you dressed completely
under It?"
"Ob, yes, I'm dressed all rlgbt."
"And as to tbe domino? Could It be
spared?"
"How funny!" exclaimed tbe young
woman, with a laugb. "But everything
happens In Paris. Certainly your
friend can have tbe domino. Somebody
spilled a glass of bock on tbe
back of It"?and she turned to reveal
tbe stain?"but if your friend doesn't
mind that"?
"The stain Is an advantage," replied
Darrell "What says tbe monk?"
"My frock for the cab!" cried the
friar. "It Is yours."
Darrell protested that he must pay
the worth of tbe dresses?ludeed much
more?and be succeeded In forcing tbe
young man to accept a sum that was
probably an agreeable addition to bis
exchequer. Then the two women got
into the cab, and it was Vera In mask
and domino who got out. Meanwhile
Darrell in the shadow of the vehicle
had slipped the monk's frock over his
head.
"I have made her a present of my
cloak," whispered Vera. "She fancies
that I am a millionairess upon a trifling
escapade. She will change her opinion
about my wealth when she views the
cloak by daylight. It has seen hard
service."
"I might give the gentleman my opera
hat," replied Darrell, "or your
handcuffs. But the latter I value too
highly as a souvenir, and the former,
closed, lies easily in the bosom of my
gown. And now for cabby."
He beckoned to the driver, who climbed
down from the box.
"Fifty francs for you," said Darrell,
"and as much more tomorrow evening
If you are discreet Do you understand?
You will forget everything.
Call there nt C tomorrow."
He gave the man his card, upon
which was written the address of a
club.
"Why do you bribe him?" ask?d
Vera.
"If any successful attempt Is made
to trace you," replied Darrell, "this
man will be found, and If that happens
I want to know of It Meanwhile
these costumes are great luck."
The unfrocked monk leaned from the
cab window and gave directions to the
coachman. Vera and Darrell, turning
away, waved their hands in farewell.
The portal of the Moulin Rouge was
beset by such a throng that Darrell
and his companion passed through unnoticed.
But a moment later, as they
worked their way out of the press, a
couple dressed as sailors, the woman's
costume being like the man's in the
minutest detail, accosted tbem with
merry badinage.
"We knew you weren't going away,"
said the woman. "You were afraid of
drinking too much wine."
[ "Mistaken identity." laughed Darrell
in Vera's ear. "I hope our friends
were well behaved, for their reputation
has passed to us. Now to find the Gordons.
What a lark! And 1 told Gordon
this afternoon that I would never
have any more fun!"
A wild outburst of applause suddenly
arose upon their right, and the crowd
eddied and swirled as all sought places
oi advantage iroui wmcu iu iuuiv unnu
upon the dancing floor. Darrell felt
Vera's band on his arm; she seemed to
be drawing hiui forward.
"Do you care to see it?" be asked.
"Wby, yes." said she, "since we are
here. Wbat are tbey doing? I know
nothing of these grand entertainments.
I was too young to see much of such
fetes as we had in Stavropol. There is
a place from which we can see."
And with the words she stepped
nimbly ahead of him, securing a remarkably
good position.
"It Is the procession," said he, standing
close behind her. "I did uot expect
to see it at this hour. It represents
the entry of a Roman conqueror
into a captured city of Assyria."
"It is like a scene in a theater!" she
cried. "See the painted palaces! How
beautiful, and with such an air of
antiquity! There is the conqueror iu
his chariot. There are the warriors
and the captives. It is magniflcent!"
She turned and looked up at Darrell,
and he noted how her eyes were shining
through the mask.
There had been music. It ceased and
then burst forth again in delirious
melody, which was Instantly caught up
by tbe throng upon the floor. The procession
bad passed around tbe circle,
winding among tbe painted palaces, in
whose windows could be seen men and
women in tbe aucieut Assyrian costume,
copied with great exactitude
from tbe memorials of that vanished
era. Dancers were crowding upon tbe
floor. Quadrilles formed as If by
j magic. One caught glimpses of famous
men in the world of art, and
among tbem. dominating tbe scene,
were tbe beautiful women of that
world, tbe famous models, garbed In
costumes tbe most magnificent or the
most simple, some shod in gold leather,
others barefoot, some sbiulng with
Jewels, others garlanded with cheap
posies daintily put on.
And they all sang till the voices
drowned tbe great orchestra and the
roof rang with tbe Boug.
"What Is It?' asked Vera. "I have
beard it In tbe street."
"It Is 'L'Heure Cbarmante,' the latest
craze of the Quarter." replied Darrell.
"You know It, then?" for she had
begun to sing. "Then why not? It is
In the air."
He added bis own strong and clear
voice to hers, and they sang together
lustily.
Suddenly the people on their left
veered toward the dancing floor. Vera
turned quickly, her eyes burning He
nodded, and their bands were clasped
together. Another moment and these
two. so strangely met. were dancing
among the revelers?this woman with
the scars of feitters on her wrists, this
man who was; alive because a bullet
flred half an hour before and meant for
him had goae astray. It was In harmony
with the night's adventure that
they should dance and sing together In
this mad throng that whirled them
hither and thither, aimless as fate.
The music stopped with an abrupt
crash of the Instruments and a break
of the voices from song to shouting,
then to silence. All looked toward the
highest gallery, where appeared Lucia,
acclaimed the favorite model and now
proudly perched upon a pedestal. She
was small of stature, and her beauty
was not of the type that "carries" to a
great distance. Her costume, however,
was wonderfully effective. She wore
a gown of pale green, brocaded with
irises, and she held in her hands a yellow
veil so variable in quality under
tne Hgnis iflai it seemeu to wu.ver
round her body like a tongue of flame.
A famous artist made a quick sketch
of her as she stood there, siul then the
oldest of the students, a giant, dressed
like a gladiator, gave her his hand, and
as she stepped dowu from the pedestal
he kissed her on the forehead, as if to
typify the reverence for beauty In the
hearts of all that vast-assembly of Its
worshipers. Applause rewarded him,
and then the band struck up once more
"L'Heure Charmaute." A thousand
voices seized upon the strain, the dancers
whirled away into new measures,
and upon the instant Darrell said in
his companion's ear:
"There are the Gordons."
He had descried Ids friends at the
edge of the lower gallery.
"We must hurry." he added, "or they
will escape us." Then suddenly, "Upon
my word. I am glad that we danced!"
"I. too," she replied. "It is something
for me to have known this life if only
for a moment. But I am ashamed to go
to your friends. It Is like asking a favor.
1 am too proud."
"We ask notldug." returned Darrell.
"not even advice. We merely tell our
amusing little story for their greater
joy in the midst of this merrymaking.
It is a favor that we confer upon them.
Hasten!"
It proved to be easy to overtake the
Gordons, for they returned immediately
to a table and an uutlnished bottle
of wine. The friar of orders gray wa9
a stranger in their eyes as hi' approach
od them and bowed gravely, as became
his character.
Tax voblscura." said he.
"And with you also, father," replied
Gordon. "May I be permitted to inquire?Jack
Darrein Well, upon my
soul!"
"And Edith!" cried Mrs. Gordon, for
as much as could be seen of Vera in
mask and domino was not without a
suggestion of Miss Lorrimer.
"You are in error," whispered Darrell,
stooping beside her chair. "This
lady is Vera Shevaloff, a princess by
right; an exile through Injustice. 1
took her from the agents of the czar
this evening, and one of them, Robert."
he added, looking across at Gordon,
"was our friend, the pirate, Ladlslov."
Gordon rose hastily and bowed, while
his wife extended her hand to Vera,
for there was a gleam in Darrell's eyes
which meant, "If yon are my friend, receive
her well."
"And you are the man who forswore
adventure!" said Gordon aside. "Well.
I am not surprised."
"It is this that is the test." replied
Darrell; "my presence here. No man
can expect to dictate absolutely In the
matter of general peace and quietness.
The tiling Is too difficult, for the house
may take Ore over his head while he
lies asleep with his hands folded upon
his breast. Rut in regard to special
acts, most of us still retain the delusion
of choice. Therefore. In order
to sot me definitely right in the matter,
fate has brought me to this 6pot. Otherwise
I might have fancied that I
was free to decide whether I would or
would not attend a hall. Let me dismiss
the notion. I am thistledown in
the wind of destiny."
"I will give you my opinion of that"
replied Gordon, "when I have seen the
princess without her mask."
TO BE CONTINUED.
I A few years ago it took one man
thirty-five and one-half hours to take
a ton of hay from the stubble and put
it in bales, it now takes eleven hours
and thirty-four minutes. The cost is
reduced from $3.0C to $1.29 a ton.
X'T A great Japanese exhibit is to oe
held at Osaka in i903. Special build|
ings are to be erected for the display
of European and American goods.
GEN. WADE HAMPTON.
Easily the Leading Carolinian of
His Day.
CITIZEN, GENTLEMAN,
SOLDIER, STATEMAN.
Interesting Story of a Noble Life
Spent In Promoting The Welfare
of the People of South Carolina
and of the South.
General Wade Hampton, namesake
of General Wade Hampton, of the Revolutionary
army, was born in the FitzSimmons
house, in Hasell street,
Charleston, in 1818. He was graduated
at the South Carolina college. In 1854
he was elected a member of the house
of representatives from Richland
county, and in 1859 he was elected to
the senate. When only 20 years old he
married Miss Preston, a sister of the
Hon. W. C. Preston, by whom he had
four children. Mrs. Hampton died in
June, 1851. His youngest child died
shortly afterward. The other children
by the first marriage were Mrfi. John
C. Haskell and Major Wade Hampton.
Both died after the war. Senator
Hampton's second wife was Miss
Mary McDuffie, who died after the
war. By her he had three children,
who are now living. During the life of
his first wife Senator Hampton dispensed
hospitality in princely style.
He was possessed of great wealth, and
Mrs. Hampton added to rare intelligence
a cultivated mind and refined
and captivating manners. In 1844 he
made the tour of Europe, visiting the
Duke of Wellington, Samuel Rodgers
ana oiner aisunguisueu pereuno, iu
whom he bore letters of Introduction.
At his home In Mississippi he was often
visited by members of the English
nobility, who were anxious to enjoy
the grand hunts of which Hampton
was so fond. Senator Hampton had an
exceptionally good memory, and was
particularly familiar with early English
literature. For the old dramatists
he had an especial liking. He was a
ready and attractive speaker, and few
men write better English than he did.
The war did not find Wade Hampton
unmindful of the course of public
events. In everything he was essentially
conservative. To the Secession
movement he was consistently opposed,
but In 1860, as at every other time, he
went with his state, offering to her
without grudging, his fortune, his talents
and his precious life.
As soon as the Confederate government
was formed at Montgomery,
Wade Hampton was commissioned as
colonel, and authorized to form the legion
which bore his name. As originally
constituted the Hampton Legion
consisted of six companies of infantry,
four companies of cavalry, and one
battery of artillery. At the battle of
Manassas the Legion received its baptism
of fire. Colonel Hampton was
wounded in the head. The pregnant
months flew by. Seven Pines came,
and there was Hampton and his entire
command. They bore themselves so
nobly that, in recognition of their service
and their commander's merit. Colonel
Hampton, who had been wounded
in the foot, was promoted to the rank
of brigadier general. The commission
was dated May 23, 1862. During the
Seven Days' battles, however, General
Hampton commanded Talliaferro's infantry
brigade, exhibiting a high order
or generaismp. xne l^egiun remaineu
under the command of Colonel Griffin.
After the battle of Yorktown, in fact,
the Legion was never brought together
again as a whole. The career of
Hampton as a cavalry leader had now
fairly begun. After the battle of Malvern
Hill he was left with his brigade
on the Peninsular to cover McClellan's
front, and rejoined the main army after
second Manassas, on the march into
Maryland.
On this march Hampton's first cavalry
brigade was formed of the 1st, 2nd,
4th, 5th and 6th regiments of South
Carolina cavalry, and the Jeff Davis
and Cobb legions of Georgia cavalry.
The cavalry squadron of the old
Hampton legion was included in the
2d South Carolina cavalry, and M. C.
Butler, who had been commander of
that squadron, was the first colonel of
the regiment.
Hampton's brigade took part in the
battle of Boonesboro Gap and Sharpsburg,
where the brigade held the left
of the line. Hampton covered the rear
of the Confederate army on the retreat.
At Gettysburg General Hampton was
again severely wounded. Trevilllan's
Station, however, was the severest battle
in which he was engaged, being in
command of the whole cavalry force
of the Army of Northern Virginia. In
1864 General Hampton was promoted toi
the rank of lieutenant general and
placed in command of the cavalry of
Johnston's army, with Butler's division,
A. N. Va. Day after day the cavalry
fought until came the bitter end.
The guns of the Hampton legion were
"the first to nash for Southern independence.
and they were literally the
last guns that fired in the defence of
Southern liberty."
General Hampton was not a soldier
by profession, but he developed, as
general, almost marvelous insight into
the plans of the enemy. Of him it was
said by the officers of the Federal
forces that he fought them on the
ground that he chose, not where they
wanted to fight him. By intuition
Hampton seemed to know where best
to make a stand. This quality was exhibited
in the nighest degree on the retreat
from Yorktown. Hampton commanded
the rear guard, and the positions
he took with his command were
so strong that the enemy, eager as
they were, did not venture to attack
him. General Hampton, like Stuart,
rode at the head of his men. He was
essentially a seoreur, passionately fond
of the excitement of personal conflict.
Again and again he met the troopers
of the enemy in personal combat.
With him, in addressing his gallant
men, it was, as with Rupert of old,
"Come on!" not "Go forward!" Where
Hampton rode they were ready to follow,
and Hampton's place was in the
front. A higher type than Hampton of
the citizen-soldier has rarely, if ever,
been seen. His men had implicit confidence
in him. The qualities which
made him a man" of mark before the
war made him conspicuous during the
war, and caused him to be preeminent
when hostilities in the field were over,
and the struggle for liberty was renewed
on the agitating field of politics.
The large property of General Hampton
was swept away by emancipation
and Its consequences. He retired into
private life, struggling bravely to repair
n?s shattered fortunes, and taking
no active part in state or national
politics. To the soldiers who were devoted
to him, to his countrymen who
trusted him, he gave the counsel that
Lee and Johnston gave, bidding them
observe faithfully tne terms of the surrender,
and urging them to fulfill in
good faith the obligations of citizenship.
In 1865 he was placed in nomination
for governor, and although he refused
to be a candidate received nearly
as many votes as the Hon. James L.
Orr, who was elected. The state convention
in 1868 elected him a delegate
to the National Democratic convention
wnich nominated Horatio Seymour for
president. He was a member of the
committee on resolutions. There was
a great difference of opinion in the
committee. After a long discussion,
conducted in the kindliest spirit, General
Hampton told the committee that
he would withdraw all the resolutions
he had offered, and no doubt other
southern delegates would do the same,
and accept, as he would, the resolutions
offered by Senator Bayard, of Delaware,
if the committee would consent
to the addition of the few words: "And
we declare that the Reconstruction
acts are revolutionary, unconstitutional
and void." After General Hampton
proposed this every member of the
committee, and the warmest men in it
were from the north, came forward and
said they would carry it out to the
end. Such is the history of the historic
plank in the National Democratic platform
of 1868, as told Dy Hampton at
the mass meeting held in Charleston
on July 24, 1868.
South Carolina, in the summer of 1876
was in a n?cunar position. The Demacratic
parly, composed of the whole
body of the white population of the
state, was divided in opinion. One
wing of ihe party, held that In view of!
the numerical strength of the Radicals,
backed by the Federal government
and controlling the whole machinery
of elections, it was wiser by
far to strive to improve the character
of the representation in the legislature,
making no nomination for governor,
than to risk the fortunes of the state
on the cast of a die by making a strict
party contest throughout. The other
wing of the party contended that success
could only be gained by nominating
a full Democratic ticket and making
such a contest aq would bring to
the Democratic standard every man
who had any regard for his own interest
and any love for his state. It was
a momentous question, and when the
state convention decided In August to
nominate Democrats for every office,
the motion carried by only a small majority.
General Hampton was in Columbia,
and in a published letter had
earnestly advised that the convention
should "present to the state a full ticket,
made up of her own true, tried and
trusted sons?men whose characters
gave the best assurance that their election
would bring peace, prosperity and
honor to the state, and for whom our
people can vote without the sacrifice
of feeling or principle." This turned
the scale. There was no difference of
opinion as to who should be the nemo
erattc candidate for governor if one
were to be chosen, and Wade Hampton
was unanimously nominated. In accepting
the nomination General Hampton
said: "Should I be elevated to the
high position for which you have nominated
me, my sole effort shall be to restore
our state government to decency,
to honesty, to economy and to integrity.
I shall be the governor of the
whole people, knowing no party, making
no vindictive discrimination, holding
the scales of justice with firm and
impartial hand, seeing, as far as in me
iies, that the laws are enforced in justice
tempered by mercy, protecting an
classes alike and directing every effort
to the restoration of honest government."
This was Hampton's platform from
the first day to the last day of the canvass,
and such it was to the last moment
of his public life. There was no
warrant for the fears of those who
supposed that Hampton had been, or
could be, captured by extreme politicians.
In 1867, when Greeley, Oliver P.
Morton and other Radical leaders were
opposed to conferring the suffrage upon
the freedmen, General Hampton declared
that it was the part of wisdom
for the southern states to confer citizenship
on the Negro. He said: "We
have recognized the freedom of the
blacks, and have placed the fact beyond
all possibility of doubt, denial or
recall. Let us recognize, in the same
frank manner and as fully, their political
rights also." Hampton had noth
ing to recall or to explain. Into the
canvass he went, as he went into military
service, with a singleness of purpose
that none could hope to surpass,
and with a character for lofty justice
and exalted honor which commanded
for his words the credence given by our
opponents to the words of only one other
man of Hampton's day?our foremost
captain, greater than Washington?Robert
Edward Lee.
The canvass justified the hopes of
those who were in favor of full nomina
tlons and the fears of those who had
believed such nominations to be unwise.
From the Blue Ridge to the Atlantic
rolled the Democratic wave,
gathering volume as It neared the
ocean. The whole power of the United
States was exerted to the utmost
against. the Democracy, but when the
ballots were counted on the night of
the eventful day in November it was
found that Hampton was elected by
over a thousand votes. A political
revolution had been accomplished.
Then came the occupation of the
state house by the Federal soldiers, the
denial of admission to the Democratic
members who did not possess the certificates
of the state board of canvassers,
the sessions of the Mackey House
in the Hall of Representatives and of
the Wallace House in the humble Carolina
Hall. Not until April 10, 1877,
were the troops withdrawn. Then only
was the authority of Hampton and the
whole Democratic government fully
recognized. Six months of waiting.
Six months of danger and temptation.
Six months of uncertainty and threatened
riot. It was at this period that
the matchless qualities of Governor
Hampton were best exhibited. The
whole power of the state was in his
hands. His word was law, and the only
law in South Carolina! Looking
back to that anxious time, it is' manifest
that the fight for good government
was really won after election day
and won by Governor Hampton.
Again and again was the state on the
verge of civil war. It was Hampton
who compelled the people to bear in sience
the jeers and blows and wounds
of the enemy. Any retaliation at that
time would have destroyed every hope
of speedy success. Hampton saw it,
and, at a word from him, battalions of
armed men, eager for the fray, quietly
returned to their homes. The purse cf
the state, as well as the sword, was hie.
A simple request from Hampton
brought into the state treasury such
supplies as were necessary for carrying
on the Hampton government, while
the pretenders in tne state nuuse, wim
pretended laws and pretended lawmakers,
surrounded by troops and
flanked by state constables, could not
extract a farthing from the people.
Hampton never wavered nor faltered.
From the beginning he told his people
that he was governor, that he Intended
to be governor, and that, if the
people trusted and obeyed him all
should be well. It was well, and when
every difficulty dissipated, Governor
Hampton met the legislature in 1877,
he might have felt that his task was
done. It was only the beginning. The
general assembly needed the constant
advice and aid of Governor Hampton.
Some unruly spirits resented any apparent
exercise of his gracious influence,
but, as a whole, his recommendtions
were carried out and the measures
he advised were adopted. It was
to be expected, perhaps, that he should
meet with opposition. It was not to be
expected that his honesty of purpose
should b$ Impugned. Tet this was
what Wade Hampton encountered before
his term as governor expired. The
sweet patience with which he met the
shafts of envy and hate was even more
admirable than the fortitude with
which he bore the onslaughts of the
avowed enemies of the state. But the
confinement, the close application to
routine work, the drudgery of executive
business with insufficient assistance,
were wearing away his strength.
As the months passed, and the time for
a new election approached, it was plainly
evident that Governor Hampton was
illfltted for the labors and fatigue of
such a canvass as that of 1876. There
was none at that moment to take his
place. By the state convention, which
assembled in August, he and the other
state officers were unanimously reelected,
on the re-affirmed platform of
1876, as the candidates of the Democracy.
When the sun set on November 5 it
was known that the Democrats bad
elected the whole of their candidates
on the state and congressional ticket,
and nearly the whole of the county officers
and members of the legislature.
Crtvarnni. Uomntnii wn a U'drn nut. It
was believed that If he could throw
off the cares of state for a few days
and divert his mind by hunting in the
swamps and thickets of the Congaree
he would regain enough strengTh lo
enable him to pass through the fatigues
of the legislative session. The
arrangements were quickly made, and
on the first day's hunt, only two days
after the election, Governor Hampton
met with an accident that resulted in
the loss of his leg, which caused him
so much suffering and the state so
much sorrow.
In 1879 General Hampton was elected
to the United States senate, which position
he continued to occupy with an
ability and dignity worthy of his own
high character and of the history of the
state which he represented. It was
hoped and expected that he would remain
as one of the representatives of
South Carolina in the highest council
of the nation until the day of his death,
but before the close of his second term
the South Carolina of the past, of
which Hampton himself was a noble
personification, had been swept away
by a political revolution. In attempting
to turn the tide Hampton had given
offence to the leading spirits of tne
new movement, and they elected to the
United States senate as Hampton's
successor one who fittingly represented
Ihpm
President Cleveland, who highly appreciated
the noble qualities of the exsenator.
very soon appointed him to the
office of United States railroad commissioner,
the duties of which position
he filled with sagacity and ability until
the appointment of General Longstreet
as his successor, by President McKinley.
Immediately unon the election of
President McKinley, General Hampton
presented his resignation. A number
of senators, irrespective of party, urged
that General Hampton be retained,
but President McKinley took the position
that the appoinment should go
to General Longstreet, a Republican
Since his retirement he led a quiet,
tired life at his country home, Miiwood,
near Columbia, until tnat was burned,
and since then in the city of Columbia.
After the burning of his country seat
hLs admirers in this state built and
presented to him. as a testimonial of
their love and esteem, a beautiful home
in the city of Columbia where his declining
years were spent. His last ap
pearance in public was at the centennial
celebration of the South Carolina
college, celebrated here on the 19th of
December, 1901. He was the oldest
living alumnus at the celebration, and
the impressive scene at the exposition
auditorium when his life-sized portrait
was presented to the college by the literary
society of which he had been a
member when an undergraduate, will
never be forgotten by any of that great
gathering of collegians. Again, at the
banquet hall that night he spoke with
much feeling to his lellow allumni and
the student body of the college, and
was received with wild enthusiasm.
This was his last appearance in public
life. He had come to Charleston
against the advice of his physicians to
prove his undying devotion to his alma
mater.?News and Courier.