Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, January 19, 1906, Image 1
YORKVILLE ENQUIRER. \
ISSUED SBMI-WEBKLT.
i. m. deist's sons, pubii?heri. j % cfamilS Bewsjaper: <^or (hi; promotion o)f th^ ^oHUottl, J5ociaI, Jt,gricttltu);at and (Commercial jntcrests of the people. _ ,
established 1855. YORKVILLE, 9. C., FRIDAY, JANUARY 19, 1900. N"Q. 6.
WORSE Si
i
A Tale of the Revoli
Upper C
Bv JOHN P.
CHAPTER VII.
Scmo Account of Philip Lindsay?Sen- '
sibility and Retirement Apt to En- (
gender a Pernicious Philosophy.
The thread which I have now to take 1
up and weave Into this history requires !
that my narrative should go back for I
some years. It briefly concerns the I
earlier fortunes of Philip Lindsay. <
His father emigrated from England, !
and was established In Virginia about ]
the year 1735 as a secretary to the i
governor of the province. He was a |
gentleman of good name and fortune. I
Philip was born within the year after 1
this emigration. As America was then I
comparatively a wilderness, and af- 1
forded but few facilities for the educa- i
tlon of youth, the son of the secretary 1
was sent at an early age to England, l
where ne remained, wun uic
tion of an occasional visit to his pa- t
rents, under the guardianship of a near <
relative, until he had completed, not i
only his college course, but also his i
studies in the Temple?an almost in- <
dispensable requirement of that day (
for young gentlemen of condition. I
His studies In the Temple had been ]
productive of one result, which Lord l
Coke, if I remember, considers ldiosyn- i
cratic in the younger votaries of the <
law?he had fallen in love with an <
heiress. The natural consequence was
a tedious year, after his return home, 1
y spent at the seat of the provincial gov- '
ernment and a most energetic and i
persevering interchange of letters with ]
the lady, whom my authority allows i
me to name Gertrude Marshall. This i
was followed by another voyage across i
the Atlantic, and finally, as might be i
predicted, by a wedding with all prop- i
er observance and parental sanction. 1
Lindsay then returned, a happier and <
more tranquil man. to Virginia, where >
he fulfilled the duties of more than one 1
public station of dignity and trust. <
In due course of time he fell heir to I
his father's wealth, which with the estate
of his wife made him one of the
most opulent and considerable gentlemen
of the Old Dominion.
He had but two children?Mildred
and Henry?with four years difference
between their ages. These were nurtured
with all the care and Indulgent
bounty natural to parents whose affections
are concentrated upon so
small a family circle.
Lindsay's character was grave and
thoughtful, and Inclined him to avoid
the contests of ambition and collision
with the world. A delicate taste, a nice
judgment, and a fondness for inquiry
made him a student and an ardent lover
of books. The ply of his mind was
towards metaphysics; he delved into
the obsolete subtleties of the old
schools of philosophy, and found
amusement, if not instruction in those
frivolous but ingenious speculations
which have overshadowed even the
best wisdom of the schoolmen with
the hues of a solemn and absurd pe
dantry. He dreamed in the reveries of <
' Plato, and pursued them through the
aberrations of the Coryphsens. He delighted
in the visions of Pythagoras,
and in the intellectual revels of Epicurus.
He found attraction in the Gnostic
mysteries, and still more in the
phantasmagoria of Judicial Astrology.
His library furnished a curious index
to this unhealthy appetite for the marvellous
and the mystical. The writings
of Cornelius Agrippa, Raymond
Lully, and Martin Delvlo, and others
of less celebrity in this circle of impos.
ture. were found associated with truer
philosophies and more approved and
authentic teachers.
These studies, although pursued with
an acknowledgment of their false and
dangerous tendency, nevertheless had
their Influence upon Lindsay's imagination.
There are few men in whom
the mastery of reason is so absolute
as to be able totally to subdue the occasional
uprising of that element of
supersltiton which is found more or
less vigorous in every mind. A nervous
temperament, which is almost
characteristic of minds of an imaginative
cast, is often distressingly liable
to this influence, in spite of the strongest
resolves of the will and the most
earnest convictions of the Judgment.
If those who possess this temperament
would confess they might certify to
many extraordinary' anxieties and
troubles of spirit, which it would pain
them to have the world believe.
T In/loQu'o nurcuHcs ho/^ ImnrOQQPfl
his understanding with some sentiment
of respect for that old belief in the
supernatural and had, perhaps, even
warmed up his faith to a secret cred- '
u!ity in these awful agencies of the
spiritual world, or at least to an unsatisfied
doubt as to their existence.
Many men of sober brow and renown
for wisdom are unwilling to acknowledge
the extent of their own credulity
on the some topic.
His relations to the government, his
education, pursuits and temper, as
might be expected, had deeply imbued
Lindsay with the politics of the Tory
party, and taught him to regard with
distrust, and even with abhorrence, the
Revolutionary principles which were
getting in vogue. In this sentiment he
visited with a dislike that did not correspond
with the more usual development
of his character, all those who
were in any degree suspected of aiding
or abetting the prevailing political
heresy of the times.
About two years after the birth of
Mildred, he had purchased a tract of
land in the then new and frontier
country lying: upon the Rockfish river.
Many families of note in the low country
had possessed themselves of estates
at the foot of the Blue Ridge, in this
neighborhood, and were already making
establishments there. Mr. Lindsay
attracted by the romantic character of
the scenery, the freshness of the soil,
and the healthfulness of the climate,
following the example of others, had
laid off the grounds of the new estate
with great taste, and had soon built,
upon a beautiful site, a neat and com
I 0 E
tOBHISOt
itionary Struggle In j
arolina. J
i
KENNEDY.
fortable rustic dwelling, with such accommodations
as might render it a
convenient and pleasant retreat during
the hot months of the summer.
The occupation which this new establishment
afforded his family, the
scope which Its Improvement gave to
their taste: and the charms that intrinsically
belonged to it, by degrees
communicated to his household an absorbing
interest in its embellishment.
His wife cherished thls.enterpr!se with
i peculiar ardor.' The plans of improvement
were hers; the garden, the
awns, the groves, the walks?all the
lttle appendages which an assiduous
taste might invent, or a comfort-seek- 8
ing fancy might imagine necessary, a
vere taken under her charge; and one f
neauty quickly following upon another, a
'rom day to day, evinced the dominion
tvhlch a refined art may exercise with s
idvantage over nature. It was a quiet, ^
aim, and happy spot, where many con- |
.'eniences were congregated together, c
md where, for a portion of every sue- g
:eeding year, this little family nestled, c
is it were, in the enjoyment of volup- j
luous ease. From this idea, and es- e
pecially as it was allied with some of r
:he tenderest associations connected {
svlth the infancey of Mildred, it was j
:alled by the fanciful and kindly name t
nf "The Dove Cote." {
The education of Mildred and Henry j
Oecame a delightful household care,
rutors were supplied, and the parents ^
arave themselves up to the task of su- (
pervision with a fond industry. They ,
now removed earlier to the Dove Cote {
svlth every returning spring, and re- ^
malned there later in the autumn. The j
neighborhood furnished an intelligent ^
hnsnltnhlp society: and the exeat .
western wilderness smiled with the
contentment of a refined and polished t
civilization, which no after day in the r
history of this empire has yet surpass- r
pd?perhaps, not equalled. It Is not to ^
be wondered at, that a mind so fram- (
?d as Lindsay's and a family so de- s
voted, should find an exquisite enjoy- t
ment in such a spot. I
Whilst this epoch of happiness was g
In progression, the political heaven be- v
jan to be darkened with cloud. The r
troubles came on with harsh portents;
war rumbled In the distance, and, at c
ength. broke out in thunder. Mildred r
lad, in the meantime, grown up to the f
verge of womanhood?a fair, ruddy, 8
lght-halre<l beauty, of exceedingly v
graceful proportions, and full of the c
most Interesting Impulses. Henry trod a
closely upon her heels, and was now ^
shooting through the rapid stages of
boyhood. Both had entwined them- a
selves around their parents' affections, r
iike fibres that conveyed to them their c
chief nourishment; and the children g
were linked to each other even, if s
that were possible, by a stronger band, j
The war threw Lindsay into a per- 0
ilous predicament. His estates were _
large and his principles exposed him a
to the sequestration which was rigidly y
?nforced against the royalist party. r
To avoid this blow, or, at least, to mitigate
its severity, he conveyed the es- t
tate of the Dove Cote to Mildred: as- t
signing, as his reason for doing so,
that, as it was purchased with moneys
belonging to his wife, he consulted and
executed her wish, in transferring the
absolute ownership of it to his daughter.
The rest of his property was con- j
verted into money, and invested in f
funds in Great Britain. As soon as ^
this arrangement was made, about the c
second year of the war, the Dove Cote e
became the permanent residence of the v
ramily: Lindsay preferring to remain
here rather than to retire to England, t
hoping to escape the keen notice of the ^
dominant party, and to find, in this t
classic and philosophical privacy an v
oblivion of the rude cares that beset s
the pillow of every man who mingled r
In the strife of the day. f
He was destined to a grievous disap- f
polntment. His wife, to whom he was
romantically attached, was snatched f
from him by death, just at this inter- t
esting period. This blow, for a time, s
ilmost unseated his reason. The natural
calm of such a mind as Lindsay's
Is not apt to show paroxysms in grief.
Its sorrow was too still and deep for
show. The flight of years, however,
brought healing on their wings; and
Mildred and Henry gradualy relumed
their father's countenance with flashes
of chetrful thought, that dally grew
broader and more abiding: till, at last,
sense and duty completed their triumph,
and once more gave Lindsay to
his family, unburdened of his grief, or
if not unburdened, conversing with It
only in the secret hours of self-communion.
His hopes of ease and retirement
were disappointed in another way.
The sequesterment of the Dove Cote
was not sufficient to shut out the noise
nor the Intrigues of the war. His reputation.
as a man of education, of
wealth, of good sense, and especially
as a man of aristocratic pretensions,
irresistibly drew him into the agitated
vortex of politics. His house was open
to the visits of the Tory leaders, no
less than to those of the other side;
and, although this intercourse could
not be openly maintained without risk,
yet pretexts were not wanting, occasionally,
to bring the officers and gen
lieilieil OI IIH* DI'lllXIl lllicrt'ai lu nic
Dove Cote. They came stealthily and
In disguise, and they did not fail to involve
him in the insiduous schemes ,
and base plottings by which a wary ,
foe generally endeavors to smoothe
the way of invasion. The temporary ]
importance which these connections ,
conferred, and the assiduous appeal
which it was the policy of the enemy
to make to his loyalty, wrought upon
the vanity of the scholar, and brought
him. by degrees, from the mere toleration
of an intercourse that he at first
sincerely sought to avoid into a participation
of the plans of those who
courted his fellowship. Still, however,
this was grudgingly given?as much
from the inaptitude of his character,
as from a secret consciousness, at bot
torn, that It was contrary to the purpose
that had induced him to seek the
shelter of the woods. Unless, therefore.
the spur was frequently applied
to the side of his reluctant resolution,
his zeal was apt to weary in its pace,
or to change my figure for one equally
appropriate, to melt away In the sunny
Indolence of his temper.
I have said that, during the tenderer
years of the children, and up to the
period of the loss of their mother, they
had received the most unremitting attention
from their parents. The be eavement
of his wife, the deep gloom
that followed this event, and the now
?ngrosslng character of the war, had
n some degree relaxed Lindsay's vlglance
over their nurture, although It
lad in no wise abated his affection for
hem; on the contrary, perhaps this
vas more concentrated than ever.
Mildred had grown up to the blossomime
of life, in the possession of every
jersonal attraction. Prom the fanciful
deas of education adopted by her father,
or rather from the sedulous care
vith which he experimented upon her
opacity, and devoted himself to the
ask of directing and waiting upon
he expansion of her intellect, she had
nade acquirements much beyond her
rears, and altogether of a character
inusual to her sex. An ardent and
>ersevering temper had imparted a
lingular enthusiasm to her pursuits;
ind her air, though not devoid of playulness,
might be said to be habitually
.bstracted and self-communing.
As the war advanced, her temper and
iltuation both enlisted her as a parisan
in the questions which it brought
nto discussion; and, whilst her father's
opinions were abhorrent to this
itruggle for independence, she on the
>ther hand, unknown to him, was castng
her thoughts, feelings, affections,
md hopes upon the broad waters of
ebellion; and, if not expecting them
o return to her, after many days, with
ncrease of good, certainly believing
hat she was mingling them with those
>f Patriots who were predestined to the
-I V. 4 /v# T
,?ri?iit.csi uircu vi givx j.
A father Is not apt to reason with a
laughter; the passions and prejudices
>f a parent are generally received as
jrinclples by the child: and most
athers. counting upon this instinct,
leem it enough to make known the
>ent merely of .their own opinions
vithout caring to argue them. This
nistake will serve to explain the wide
inference which is sometimes seen beween
the most tenderly attached pa ent
and child, in those deeper sentinents
that do not belong to the everylay
concerns of life. Whilst, thereore
Mr. Lindsay took no heed how the
leed of doctrine fructified and grew In
he soil where he desired to plant it,
t in trust fell upon ungenial ground,
ind either was blown away by the
vind, or perished for want of approbate
nourishment.
As the crisis became more momentius,
and the discussion of national
Ights more rife. Mildred's predilecInno
ran citr-on ffor on fho renilhllcftn
Ide: at the opening of my story, she
was a sincere and enthusiastic friend
>f American independence,?a char.cter
(however it may be misdoubted
>y my female readers of the present
lay, nursed as they are in a lady-like
ipathay to all concerns of governnent,
and little aware, in the lazy lap
>f peace, how vividly their own quick
lensibilities may be enlisted by the
trife of men) neither rare nor inefflcent
amongst the matrons and maidens
f the year seventy-six, some of whom
-now more than fifty years gone by?
ire embalmed In the richest spices and
io!iest ointment of our country's
nemory.
It is, however, due to truth to say
hat Mildred's eager attachment to
his cause was not altogether the free
notion of patriotism. How often does
ome little under-current of passion,
ome slight and amiable prepossession,
nodest and unobserved, rise to the
urface of our feelings, and there give
ts direction to the stream upon which
loats all our philosophy! What is
lestiny but these under-currents that
iome whencesoever they list, unheedd
at first, and Irresistible ever afterwards?
My reader must be told that, before
u" ?? V? maIfa ??!? Kin nntKlloluctlp
rirl had flitted across the path of Arhur
Butler, then a youth of rare facilty
and promise, who combined with
i gentle and modest demeanor an eariest
devotion to his country, sustain'd
by a chivalrous tone of honor that
tad In It all the fanciful disinterest dness
of boyhood. It will not, thereore,
appear wonderful that, amongst
he golden opinion the young man was
storing up In all quarters some fragments
of this grace should have made
i lodgment In the heart of Mildred
Jndsay.
Butler was a native of one of the
ower districts of South Carolina, and
vas already the possessor, by inheriance.
of what was then called a hand,
some fortune. He first met Mildred,
inder the safe-conduct of her parents,
it Annapolis in Maryland, at that time
he seat of opulence and fashion,
rhere the wise and the gay, the beauiful
and the rarely-gifted united in a
iplendid little constellation, in which
vealth threw its sunbeam glitter over
he wings of love, and learning and eloluence
were warmed by the smiles of
'air women: there gallant men gave
;he fascinations of wit to a festive cir
cle unsurpassed in the New World, or
:he old, for its proportion of the graces
that embelish, and the endowments
that enrich life. In this circle there
was no budding beauty of softer
charm than the young Mildred, nor
was there amongst the gay and bright
cavaliers that thronged the "little
icademy" of Eden, (the governor of
the province.) a youth of more favorable
omen than Arthur Butler.
The war was at the very threshold
and angry men thought of turning the
ploughshare into the sword. Amongst
these was Butler; an unsparing denouncer
of the policy of Britain, and
an unhesitating volunteer in the ranks
of her opposers. It was at this eventful
time that he met Mildred. I need
hardly add that under these inauspicious
circumstances they began to love.
Every Interview afterwards (and they
frequently saw each other at Williamsburg
and Richmond) only developed
more completely the tale of love that
nature was telling in the heart of each.
Butler received from congress an
ensign's commission in the Continental
army, and was employed for a few
months in the recruiting service at
Charlottesville. This position favored
his views and enabled him to visit at
the Dove Cote. His intercourse with
Mildred, up to this period, had been allowed
by Lindsay to pass without
comment; It was regarded but as the
customary and commonplace civility
of polite society. Mildred's parents had
no sympathy In her lover's sentiments,
and consequently no especial admiration
of his character, and they had not
yet doubted their daughter's loyalty to
be made of less stern materials than
their own. Her mother was the first
to perceive that the modest maiden
awaited the coming of the young soldier
with a more anxious forethought
than betokened an occupied heart.
How painfully did this perception
break upon her! It opened upon her
view a foresight of that unhappy sequence
of events that attends the secret
struggle between parental authority
and filial inclination, when the absorbing
Interests of true love are concerned;
a struggle that so frequently
darkens the fate of the noblest natures,
and whose history supplies the
charm of so many a melancholy and
thrilling page. Mrs. Lindsay had an
Invincible objection to the contemplated
alliance, and immediately awakened
the attention of her husband to
the subject. From this moment Butler's
reception at the Dove Cote was
cold and formal, and Mr. Lindsay did
not delay to express to his daughter a
marked aversion to her intimacy with
a man so uncongenial to his own taste.
I need not dwell upon the succession
of Incidents that followed; are they not
written in every book that tells of
young hearts loving in despite of authority?
Let it suffice to say that
Butler, "many a time and oft," hied
steathily and with a lover's haste to
the Dove Cote, where, "under the shade
of melancholy boughs," or sometimes
of good Mistress Dimock's roof, he
found m^ans to meet and exchange
vows of constancy with the lady of
his love.
Thus passed the first year of the
war. The death of Mrs. Lindsay, to
which I have before adverted, now occurred.
The year of mourning was
doubly afflictive to Mildred. Her father's
grief hung as heavily upon her as
her own, and to this was added a total
separation from Butler. He had Joined
his regiment and was sharing the perils
of the northern campaigns, and
subsequently of those which ended in
the subjugation of Carolina and Georgia.
During all this period he was enabled
to keep up an uncertain and irregular
correspondence with Mildred,
and he had once met her in secret, for
a few hours only, at Mistress Dimock's
during the autumn Immediately preceding
the date of the opening of my
story.
Mrs. Lindsay, upon her death-bed,
had spoken to her husband in the most
emphatic terms of admonition against
Mildred's possible alliance with Butler,
and conjured him to prevent it by
whatever means might be in his power.
Besides this, she made a will directing
the distribution of a large Jointure estate
in England between her two children,
coupling with the bequest, a
condition of forfeiture, if Mildred mar
rled without her father's approbation.
I have now to relate an Incident in
the life of Philip Lindsay, which
throws a sombre coloring over most of
the future fortunes of Mildred and Arthur,
as they are hereafter to be developed
In my story.
The lapse of years, Lindsay supposed,
would wear out the first favorable
impression made by Arthur Butler upon
his daughter. Years had now passed;
he knew nothing of the secret correspondence
between the parties, and
he had hoped that all was forgotten.
He could not help, however, perceiving
that Mildred had grown reserved,
and that her deportment seemed to be
controlled by some secret care that sat
upon her heart. She was anxious, sollcitlous,
and more inclined, than became
her *'outh, to be alone. Her
household affections took a softer tone,
like one in grief. These things did not
escape her father's eyes.
It was on a night in June a little
more than a year before the visit of
Butler and Robinson which I have narrated
in a former chapter, that the
father and daughter had a free communion
together, in which it was his
purpose to penetrate into the causes of
her disturbed spirit. The conference
was managed with an affectionate and
skilful address on the part of the father,
and "sadly borne" by Mildred. It
is sufficient to say that it revealed to
him n truth of which he was previous
ly ljut little aware, namely, that neither
the family afflictions nor the flight of
two years had rooted out the fond predilection
of Mildred for Arthur Butler.
When this Interview ended Mildred retired
weeping to her chamber, and
Lindsay sat In his study absorbed In
meditation. The object in life nearest
to his heart was the happiness of his
daughter; and for the accomplishment
of this what sacrifice would he not
make? He minutely recalled to memory
all the passages of her life. What
error of education had he committed,
that she thus, at womanhood, was
found wandering along a path to which
he had never lead her, which Indeed,
he had ever taught her to avoid? What
accident of fortune had brought her
into this, as he must consider it, unhappy
relation? "How careful have I
been," he said, "to shut out all the inducements
that mghti give a complexion
to her tastes and principles different
from my own! How sedulously
have I waited upon her footsteps from
infancy onward, to shield her from the
Influence that might mislead her pliant
mind! And yet in this, the most determinate
act of her life, that which
is to give the hue to the whole of her
coming fortune, the only truly momentous
event in her history?how
strangely has it befallen!"
In such a strain did his thoughts
pursue this harassing subject. The
window of his study was open, and he
sat near it. looking out upon the night.
The scene around him was of a nature
to awaken his imagination and lead
his musings towards the preternatural
and invisible world. It was past midnight,
and the bright moon was just
sinking down the western slope of the
heavens, journeying through the fantastic
and gorgeous clouds, that, as
they successively caught her beam,
stood like promontories jutting upon a
waveiess ocean, their rich profiles tipped
with burnished silver. The long
black shadows of the tree slept in enchanted
stillness upon the earth; the
night-wind breathed through the foliage,
and brought the distant gush of
the river fitfully upon his ear. There
was a witching harmony and music in
the landscape that sorted with the solitary
hour, and conjured up thoughts
of thetworld of shadows. Lindsay's e
mind b<<gan to run upon the themes of c
his favorite studies; the array of fa- si
miliar spirits rose upon his mental n
vision; the many recorded instances of b
what was devoutly believed the Inter- tl
ference of the dead In the concerns of p
the living, came fresh, at this moment, h
to his memory, and made him shudder n
at his lonesomeness. Struggling with si
this conception, It struck him with an a
awe that he was unable to master: It
"Some invisible counsellor," he mutter- n
ed, "some mysterious Intelligence, now e;
holds my daughter In thrall, and flings fl
his spell upon her existence. The n
powers that mingle unseen in the af- b
fAtrs of mnrtnla thpt ciildp to crood or n
lead astray, have wafted this helpless ft
bark Into the current that sweeps on- s<
ward, unstayed by man. I cannot con- p
tend with destiny. She Is thy child It
Gertrude," he exclaimed apostrophizing sj
the spirit of his departed wife. "She ai
is thine, and thou wilt hover near her hi
and protect her from those who con- r<
trlve against her peace; thou wilt pi
avert the ill and shield thy daughter!" a<
Excited almost to frenzy, terrified m
and exhausted In physical energy, tl
Lindsay threw his head upon his hand m
and rested It against the window sill.
A moment elapsed of almost Inspired ni
madness, and when he raised his head v<
and looked outward upon the lawn, he ti
beheld the pale Image of the being he 11
had Invoked gliding through the gi
shrubbery at the farthest verge of the ec
level ground. The ghastly visage was d<
bent upon him, the hand steadily tl
pointed towards him, and as the figure tl
slowly passed away the last reverted w
gaze was directed to him. "Great tl
j(ioar ne ejaculated, "inai rorm?inai ai
form!" and fell senseless Into his c<
chair. t<
During the night, Mildred was awak- ai
ened by a low moan, which led her to <n
visit her father's chamber. He was g
not there. In great alarm she betook <?<
herself to his study, where she found o:
him extended upon a sofa, so enfee- t?
bled and bewildered by this recent in- c<
cldent that he was scarcely conscious sj
of her presence. tl
A few weeks restored Lindsay to his tt
usual health, but it was long before h
he regained the equanimity of his it
mind. He had seen enough to con- h
firm his faith In the specluations of Is
which I have before given the outline; b
and he was. henceforth, oftentimes g
melancholy, moody, and reserved In 01
spite of all the resolves of duty, and In b
deflhnce of a temper naturally placid o
and kind. *
Let us pass from this unpleasant In- c!
cldent to a theme of more cheerful lm- ei
port; the loves of Mildred and Arthur, a
I have said these two had secret meet- d
Ings. They were not entirely without rr
a witness. There was a confidant In f<
all their Intercourse; no other than w
Henry Lindsay, who united to the fl
reckless Jollity of youth an almost n
worshipping love of his sister. His tl
thoughts and actions were ever akin to
hetf. Henry was therefore a safe de- ?
popltory of the precious secret; and as p
he could not but think Arthur Butler fi
a food and gallant comrade, he deter- ri
mined that his father was altogether tl
on the wrong side In respect to the love p
affair and, by a natural sequence, v\
wrong also In his politics. v
Henry had several additional reasons u
for this last opinion. The whole coun- c
tryslde was kindled Into a martial )<
flame, and there was nothing to be u
heard but drums and trumpets. There a
were rifle-corps, and they were all tl
dressed in huntlng-shlrts, and bugles w
were blowing, and horses were neigh- v\
lng; how could a gallant of sixteen re- b
slst It? Besides. Stephen Foster, the h
woodman, right under the brow of the b
Dove Cote, was a lieutenant of mount- tl
ed riflemen, and had, for some time f,
past been training Henry in the mys- w
tery of his weapon, and had give 1 him tl
divers lessons on the horn to sound the tl
dgnals, and had enticed him furtively ?
to ride In a platoon on parade, whereof
he had dubbed Henry corporal or dep- n
uty corporal. All this worked well for o
Arthur and Mildred. a
Mr. Lindsay was not Ignorant of o?(
Henry's popularity in the neighbor- o
hood, nor how much he was petted by a
the volunteer soldiery. He did not ob- a
Jeet to this, as It served to quiet sus- ~
picion of his own dislike to the cause i<
and diverted the observation of the 'i
adherents of what he called the Rebel P
government, from his own motions; ri
whilst at the same time, he deemed It s
in mhop than a eeweaw that Dlayed tl
upon the boyish fancy of Henry with- li
out reaching his principles. c
Mildred, on the contrary, did not so e
regard It. She had inspired Henry h
with her own sentiments, and now s
carefully trained him up to feel warmly s
the interests of the war, and to pre- c
pare himself by discipline for the hard s
life of a soldier. She early awakened
In him a wish to render service in the a
field, and a resolution to accomplish n
it as soon as the occasion might ar- ti
rive. Amongst other things, too, she o
taught him to love Arthur Butler and p
keep his counsel. tl
t<
h
CHAPTER VIII. tl
The Mansion of a Gentleman and a c
si
Scholar.
The site of the Dove Cote was eml- E
nently picturesque. It was an area of n
level ground, containing, perhaps, two c
acres, on the summit of a hill that, on n
one side, overhung the Rockfish river, b
and on the other rose by a gentle sweep n
from the champaign country below, n
This summit might have been as much II
as two hundred feet above the bed of a
the stream, and was faced on that side a
by a bold, rocky precipice, not abso- a
lutely perpendicular, but broken into
stages or platforms, where grassy p
mould had occumulated, and where the ti
sweetbrler and the laurel, and clusters e
of the azalea shot up in profuse luxu- fl
rlance. The fissures of the crag had h
also collected their handful of ti
soil and gave nourishment to strug- e
gling vines, and everywhere the f
ash or pine, and not unfrequently the s
dogwood, took possession of such spots f<
upon the rocky wall, as these adven- o
turous and cliff-loving trees had found t
congenial to their nature. The op- ti
posite or northern bank of the river had v
?""?i oUvotinn nnd tutted forward s
so near to the other as to leave be- r
tween them a cleft, which suggested p
the Idea of some sudden abruption of n
the earth In those early paroxysms e
that geologists have deemed necessary li
to account for some of the features of v
our continent. Below was heard the h
ceaseless brattle of the waters as they 11
ran over and amongst the rocks which f;
probably constituted the debris form- t
d In the convulsion that opened this i
hasm. It was along through this ob- r
cure dell that the road, with which
ly reader is acquainted, found place r
etween the margin of the stream and n
fie foot of the rocks. The general as- p
ect of the country was diversified by o
lgh knolls and broken masses of c
lountatn land and the Dove Cote it- s
elf occupied a station sufficiently d
bove the surrounding district to give i
: a prospect, eastward, of several a
llles in extent. From this point the t
ye might trace the valley of the Rock- r
sh, by the abrupt hillsides that hem- c
led it in, and by the growth of som- d
re pines that coated the steeps where r
othlng else could find a foothold. Not t
lr below, in this direction, was to be p
?en the Fawn's tower, a singular p
innacle of rock, which had acquired h
s name from the protection it was t
ild to have afforded to a young deer r
gainst the assault of the hounds; the t
ard-pressed anmial, as the tradition a
Hates, having' gained this insulated h
oint by a bound that baffled the most h
dventurous of his pursuers, and ad- 11
tiration of the successful boldness of a
le leap having won from the hunts- o
laa the favor that spared his life. e
With the exception of a large chest- w
ut near the edge of the cliff, and some s
fnerable oaks, that had counted cen- h
iries before the white man rested his a
mbs beneath their shade, the native w
rowth of the forest had been removi
by Lindsay from the summit I have
sscribed, and he had substituted for .
le wild garniture of nature a few of
le choicest trees of the neighboring ^
oods. Here he had planted the elms,
le holly and the linden tree, the cedar
rid the arborvitae. This platform was
?ml-clrcular, and was bounded by a p
'rrace or walk of gravel that swept p
round its circumference. The space t
iclosed was covered with a natural c
rasa, which the frequent use of the n
:ythe had brought to the resemblance t
f velvet; and the lower side of the v
rrrace was guarded by a hedgeway of v
sdar. Over this green wall, as the
pectator walked forth in fair summer
me, might he look out upon the dis- g
mt woods and meadows; and there
e might behold the highroad showing v
self, at distant intervals, upon the {
ll!sides; and in the bottom lands, that t
ly open to the sun through the forest (
ou"d valleys, might he see herds of ?
razing cattle, or fields of yellow grain *
r, perchance, the slow moving wain, .
urdened with hay, or slower moving
lough. t
The mansion itself partook of the
+a# fKo nlono T t Tiro a norph.
a?to use a phrase peculiarly appll- *
able to Its position?almost lmmelately
at that point where the terrace
lade an angle with the cliff, being dejnded
by a stone parapet, through
'hlch an Iron wicket opened upon a ^
lght of rough-hewn steps, that terilnated
in a pathway leading down to
ie river.
The main building was of stone,
onsisting of one lofty story, and cap- 1
ed with a steep roof, which curved, so
ir over the front as to furnish a broad r
ustlc porch that rested almost upon
he ground. The slim pillars of this r
orch were concealed by lattice work,
hlch was overgrown with creeping c
Ines: and the windows of the contigous
rooms, on either side of a spalous
hall, opened to the floor, and v
joked out upon the lawn and quiet
indscape far beyond. One of these 0
partments was also accessible through 0
onatorn e-ahla hv a nrlvate door- ^
ray shaded by a light veranda, and 9
ras appropriated by Lindsay to his 11- s
rary. This portal seemed almost to a
ang over the rock, having but the '
readth of the terrace between it and 9
tie declivity, and showing no other ''
jr? ground than the parapet, which *
as here a necessary defence against 1
tie cliff, and from which the roman- c
Ic dell of the river was seen In all its
ilderness.
There were other portions of the
lansion constructed in the same style r
f architecture, united to this In such ^
manner as to afford an uninterrupted *
ommunlcatlon, and to furnish a range
f chambers for the use of the family. n
l rustic effect was everywhere preerved.
Stacks of chimneys shot up In 9
rotosque array, and heavy, old-fash- *
ined windows looked quaintly down t
rom the peaked roof. Choice exotics, r
lanted In boxes were tastefully ar- ?
anged upon the lawn; cages with
Inging-birds were suspended against
he wall and the whole mass of bulldlg
extending along the verge of the
liff, so as to occupy the entire dlamter
of the semicircle, perhaps one
undred and fifty feet, sorted by its
Implicit}' of costume, If I may so
peak, and by its tidy beauty, with the
lose-shaven grassplot and its trim
hades.
Above the whole flinging their broad r
nd gnarled arms amo-igst the chimey
tops, and forming a pleasing con- (
rast with the artificial embellishments
e
f this spot, some ancient oaks, in ^
rimival magnificence, reared their
Imr-honored trunks, and no less shel?red
the habitation from the noon-tide
than thov nffordprt an nsvlum to
he ringdove and his mate, or to the
ountless travellers of the air that here
topped for rest or food.
Such was the general aspect of the
)ove Cote; a spot where a philosopher
light glide through life In unbroken
ontemplation; where a wearied states- ,
inn might betake himself to reassemle
the scattered forces of Intellect for
ew enterprises; where the artist might
epalr to study with advantage the
vlng graces of God's own painting;
ad where young beauty might bud
nd bloom amongst the most delicate
nd graceful forms 0:1 earth. c
The Interior of the dwelling caacious
and comfortable. Its furniure,
suitable to the estate of the own- t
r, was plain, and adapted to a municent
rather than to an ostentatious f
ospltallty. It was only in the library
hat evidence might be seen of large ,
xpense. Here, the books were ranged
rom the floor to the celling, with .
carcel.v an interval, except where a .
pw choice paintings had found space
r the bust of some worthy. One or
wo ponderous lounging chairs stood in y
he apartment; and the footstep of the *
isitor was dulled into silence by the g
oft nap of (what, in that day, was a
are and costly luxury) a Turkey caret.
This was In all respects an apartlent
of ease, and it was provided with
very Incentive to beguile a student
ato silent and luxurious communion
,-ith the spirit of the sages around
1m.?whose subtlest thoughts and hoiest
breathings, whose most volatile
ancles, had been caught up, fixed, and
urned inta tangible substances, more I
ndestructlble than adamant, by the
nagic of the letters.
I have trespassed on the patience of 1
ny reader to give him a somewhat
nlnute description of the Dove Cote,
irinclpally because I hope thereby to t
pen his mind to a more adequate con- t
eptlon of the character of Philip Llnd- f
ay. By looking at a man in his own ?
welling, and observing his domestic (
lablts, I will venture to affirm, it shall t
carcely in any Instance fall to be true, j
hat If there be seen a tasteful ar- '
angement of matters necessary to his ]
omrort; n nis nousenoia De wen orlered,
and his walks clean and well t
oiled, and his grassplots neat; and If s
here be no slovenly Inattention to relalrs,
but thrift against waste, and
ilenty for all; and, If to these be added
lablts of early rising and comely atlre?and,
above all, If there be books,
nany books, well turned and carefully
ended?that man Is one to warm up
t the coming of a gentleman; to open
lis doors to him, to take him to his
eart, and to do him the kindnesses of
ife. He Is a man to hate what Is base,
-d to stand apart from the mass, as
ne who will not have his virtue taintd.
He Is a man, moreover, whose
rorldly craft may be so smothered and
uppressed In the predominance of the
ousehold affections, that the skilful
nd designing, alas, may ever practise
dth success their plans against him.
TO BE CONTINUED.
IARPENTERS' STEELE 8QUARE8.
nventor s Vermont Blaokamith Who
Became a Millionaire.
The large steel squares used by carenters
are such a common tool that
>erhaps few know when and where
hey were first made, and how they
ame to be used, or even give the f
natter a thought. The making of
hem Is a great Industry now, but
yhen the last century came In there
k-as not one In use.
The Inventor was a poor Vermont
ilacksmlth, Silas Howes, who lived In
(outh Shaftsbury.
One dull, rainy day a peddler of tinrare
called at his shop to have a shoe
astened on his horse. These peddlers
ravelled up and down the country
:all!ng at every farmhouse buying
iverythlng in the way of barter,
[ his one had a number of worn out
teel saws that he had picked up In
various places. Howeo bargained for
hem shoeing the peddler's horse and
ecelved the saws in payment, and
>ach thought he had an excellent
rade.
His Idea was to polish and weld
wo saws together, at right angles,
ind thus make a rule or measure
luperlor to anything then in use.
itter a few attempts he succeeded
n making a square, marked It oft
nto Inches and fractions of Inches
tnd found that It answered every
)urpose that he Intended It for.
In the course of a few weeks he 1
nade quite a number during his spare '
lours. These he sent out by the 1
>eddlers, who found every carpenter
ager to buy one. Soon he found or- 1
lers coming In faster than he could '
upply the demand. One of his steel 1
squares" would sell for $5 or $6, which *
k-as five times as much as it cost him. 1
He applied for and obtained a patent *
in his Invention so that no one else 1
ould deDrive him of the profit It gave
ilm. It was Just after the war of 1812,
.nd money was scarce and difficult to
ret. But he worked early and late,
,nd .is he earned money he bought
ron, and hired men to help him. In
, few years he was able to erect a
arge factory and put In machinery for
he making of squares which by this
lme had found their way all over the
ountry and had made their Inventor
amous.
Such was the small beginning of a
arge and Important Industry. Peo?!e
came miles to see. the wonderful
orges, the showers of sparks flying
rom beneath the heavy hammers, and
Isten to the din of the thousand worknen.
Silas Howes lived to be a millionaire,
md he did a great deal of good with
lis money. Squares are still made on
he spot where the first one was made
nore than ninety-five years ago.?Conrregatlonallst.
WIRE WOUND CANNON.
low Uncle Sam's Most Powerful Guns
Are Made. .
Losing an International rifle shooting
natch a few years ago resulted In the
nventlon by Mr. John Hamilton Brown .
if one of the most formidable, efficient
ind terrible high power cannon ever .
troduced. The cannon will throw a
rojectlle weighing 100 pounds a dlsance
of thirty miles and Is now being
ested at the Sandy Hook proving
Tounds of the United States army,
"he World's Work explains the gun
nakingr process:
The most efficient heavy guns made
n England are wire wound. But.
rhere as the inner tube of the English
run is a solid forging, the tube of the
American gun consists of a number of
teel sheets, each one-seventh of an
nch thick. Around these is wound
wenty-one miles of square steel wire
me-seventh of an inch in diameter.
The tension of this wire is so great
hat the Inner tube is compressed to
he point where it cannot be overcome
ty the explosion of gunpowder. The
run is so strong therefore that it canlot
be burst by any charge that can be
laced in It. although its powder chamler
is much larger than that of any
ther gun of similar caliber in existnce.
The six inch Brown wire gun will
hrow a shot weighing 100 pounds for
i distance of thirty miles. A projectile
Ired from this gun will penetrate a
.Teater thickness of armor plate at
.000 yards than a projectile fired from
my other gun at a distance of twenty
eet. After flying thirty miles the proectile
will have enough power left to ^
>enetrate six Inches of steel.
A ten inch gun of the same type has j
teen designed. A great many weird
eats are predicted for this ten inch i
run?however, it is not yet built. If
he wire guns of large caliber fulfill the j
)romlse given by the six inch guns
ilready built the costly and cumber- i
lome armor plate of the modern batleshlp
will no longer afford proteclon.
(
OT A newspaper correspondent re- "
:ently found near Klmberly, South ^
Africa, a diamond of 149} karats that f
le sold for 913,465. <
GAY TEXA8CATTLEMEN.
rhe Earl of Aylesford's Ranch Party
Naar Big 8pring.
'The experiences of members of
he English aristocracy in the cattle
>uslness of the United States have left
i fund of amusing anecdotes In the
louthwest," said R. L. Caplin of
3uthrle, who was an employee of
he Texas and Pacific Railroad com>any
in western Texas in the early
80s. to a Guthrie correspondent of the
Kansas City Star.
"I have a keen remembrance of
he Earl of Aylesford, who bought
i ranch near Big Springs, Tex., about
[884 or 1885. I was living at Big
Springs and saw the earl and his
:ompanion8 almost daily. His fam
ly name was Finch, and with him
vere his two brothers, Clem and
Dan Finch, a rollicking blade known
is Lord Harry Qordon and an Epls:opal
clergyman known as Bishop
3ernard.
"Locally, the earl was called
judge,' which he did not resent. He
vas reported to have an Income of
;55,000 a year, and his expenditures
ndicated that his means were large,
le bought a frame hotel at Big
Springs, which he used exciusively
or himself and party when they
vere not at his ranch. He once was
twner of a Big Springs saloon for one
light. He paid $6,000 for the estabishment
and presented it next mornng
to the man from whom he had
>ought it. I never saw any members
>f his party pay for anything. They
ilayed pool and billiards frequently
n a local resort, smoking the best
:igars and taking their drinks reguarly.
At the close of the games the
Jckets were cashed by the earl.
"The earl and his friends were
rreat sportsmen. In the fleld they
iften used .20 calibre guns for birds,
ihootlng plnflre shells imported from
England. The earl had hunted in all
he big game countries of the world,
ind his collection of furs, skins and
leads were of great value. His ranch
inuse was filled with them. Tn cedar
:hests he kept photographs and menentos
of his life abroad. His ranch
louse was burned by accident one
light and was destroyed, with all its
:ontents.
"I was Invited once to Join his
party in a winter hunting trip, and
luring the expedition saw a surprisng
illustration of the bath-loving
Englishman. The weather was cold
md I had arisen early, chilled to the
narrow, and was shivering near the
look's fire, when Gordon crawled
'rom his sleeping bag to dress.
\bout fifty feet distant was a pool
>f water covered with a thin coating
if ice. 'Bless my soul,' shouted Gorlon,
'what a Jolly chawnce for a
>ath,' and he plunged into the water,
creaking the Ice as he went and folowed
by the earl and his brothers,
rhe sight 'was excruciating to a
warmth loving American, but the
>odies of the Englishmen glowed
pink and red in the frosty air.
"Despite his youth?he was about
thirty-eight?the earl was looked
upon as an elderly man. by his companions.
He had gone the pace, and
toon paid the penalty. When his
physician called one morning the
jarl, who had been in bed several
lays, asked that his pulse be taken.
Well, Judge, I should say you have
ibout fifteen minutes to live,' said
he physician, after making his elimination.
'If that be your opinion,'
ep'led the earl, without a tremor,
give me a good, big farewell drink
>f American whisky.' He emptied his
jlass, and with a long sigh turned on
lis side and was gone.
"The cablegram business at the Utile
telegraph office at Big Springs for
:he next few days astonished the operators.
The rate was $1.10 a word,
ind the cable was used as if the senders
were writing letters. One of the
Irst messages of condolence from
England came from the Prince of
Wales, now King Edward. The body
it the earl was taken home by &jl his
retinue, and none of them ever relumed.
Incidentally, the physician
'ound that the earl's liver weighed
'ourteen pounds."
Through Nineteen Battles Unscathed.
Robert Young, a veteran of the C.inea
and the Indian Mutiny, died at his
-esldence in Red Lion Close, Montrose,
>n Saturday evening. He was 77 years
>f age, and his career as a soldier was
ull of desperate fighting. One of the ?
nost fortunate men on the field, he
:ame through nineteen battles scathess.
*
He was a native of Edinburgh and
dined the Black Watch in 1846. Unil
1853 he served in Canada in which
rear his regiment returned home and,
var breaking out with Russia he volmteered
for the Crimea. His offer
vas accepted, and he was transferred
o the Ninety-third Highlanders, who
vere ordered East. Under Sir Colin
Campbell he was engaged in many batiles.
He fought at the Alma and at
balaclava, where his regiment formed
'The Thin Red Line." He was at the
:apture of Redan and the Malakoff,
ind spent the severe winter of 1854-55
n the trenches before Seb&stopol, beng
also In the forefront of the lighting
vhen that famous fortress fell. When
he Highlanders returned to Britain
hey were Inspected by the Queen at
Vldershot, and Mr. Young, along with
hree others, had the honor of being
>resented to her majesty.
During the mutiny Mr. Young fought
n all the principal battles. He was at
he relief of Lucknow, took part in
he forced march to Cawnpore, and
vas at the storming and sacking of the
>alace of the Queen of Oude. In De- '
:ember. 1867, he retired on a pension
)f lOd. per day, having served his
jueen and country for almost twentywo
years?Dundee Advertiser.
If You?Find fault with others, it
vill make them faultier.
Worry about your work, it will make
rou less capable.
Anticipate evils, you will be sure to
>ring tnem upon you.
Imagine you are disliked, it will
nake you less likable.
Talk about your ill health, It will
nake you less healthy.
Sit bemoaning the past, you will nev;r
get on in the future.
Talk much of what you are going to
lo, you will never do It.
Complain of lack of opportunities,
you'll miss what you have.
Wall bitterly that it is an unjust
vorld and life not worth living, you'll
find it come true for sure, in your own
sue at least?Philadelphia Bulletin.