Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, March 13, 1906, Image 1
- %Wm
_ ^ . . V- C . . - v ? . . *1 .. ?
' ISSUED SEMI-WEEKM
.J????i.^
l. m. GRISTS sons. Publishers. [ J damilg Newspaper: Jfor the flromotion of th< political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Jnterests o)f the $eople.
ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE, S. C., TUESDAY, MARCH 13, 19Q(i. MO. 21.
" I ?.. .? --- j?is?ws. nori Ihim tn ?niAM the Hrsiihtfui tmrwi of I ter. John had onlv twentv-four hours I jAt!w^t!Hustiso At,4s'ss^ I Pond Springs. some three miles away
WKSE St
f
A Tale of the Revol
Upper C
? W IT TV T>
.u^y v * 11 -m.
CHAPTER XXV?OovnmJED.
Here he remained for the space of
half an hour, an interval that was
passed by him In the most distressing
doubt and anxiety. The whole proceeding
of the court boded 111 to him.
The haste of his trial, the extraordinary
nature of the charges, and the general
unsympathlzing demeanor of the
court Itself, only spoke to his mind as
evidences of a concealed hostility,
which sought to And a plausible pretext
for making him a sacrifice to
some private malevolence. He was
therefore prepared to expect the worst
when, at the close of the half hour, St.
Jermyn entered his chamber.
"I come, sir," said the officer, "to
perform a melancholy duty. The court
have Just concluded their deliberations."
"And I am to De a sacrince iu men
vengeance. Well, so be It! There
was little need of deliberation in my
case and they have soon despatched
It," said Butler, with a bitter spirit, as
he paced up and down his narrow
chamber. "What favor have these, my
impartial judges, vouchsafed to me in
my last moment? Shall I die as a
common felon, on a gibbet, or am I to
meet a soldier's doom?"
"That has been thought of," said St.
Jermyn. "The commanding officer has
no disposition to add unnecessary severity
to your unhappy fate."
"Thank God for that! and that the
flies detailed for this service are to be
drawn from the ranks of my enemies!
I will face them as proudly as I have
ever done on the field of battle. Leave
me, sir; I have matters in my thoughts
that require I should be alone."
"Your time, I fear, is brief," said St.
Jermyn. "The guard is already at
hand to conduct you to the court, who
only stay to pass sentence. I came
therefore to break the unhappy news
to you."
"It Is no news to me." Interrupted
Butler. "I could expect no other issue
to the wicked designs by which I
have been seized. This solemn show
of a trial was only got up to give color
to a murderous act which has been |
long predetermined."
At this moment, the heavy and regular
tap of the drum struck at equal
Intervals, and a mournful note from a
fife. reached the prisoner's ear.
"I come!" exclaimed Butler. "These
fellows are practising their manual for
an occasion In which they appear Impatient
to act. One would think. Captain
St. Jermyn." he added, with a
smile of scorn, "that they needed but
little practice to accomplish them for a
ceremony which has of late, since his
majesty has extended his merciful arm
over this province, grown to be a familiar
piece of military punctilio."
St. Jermyn hastily fled from the
room, and rushing out upon the grassplot
where the guard was collected,
cried out,?
"Silence, you base and worthless
knaves! Is it thus you would Insult
the sufferings of an unfortunate enemy
by drumming, under his very ear,
your cursed death-notes. Strike but
one note upon that drum again and I
will have you up to the halberds."
"The music did but try a flourish of
the dead march." replied the sergeant
of the guard; "they are a little rusty
and seeing that the Whig officer?"
"Another word, air, and you shall be
sent to the provost marshal. Attend
the prisoner."
"I am here," said Butler, who had
overheard this conversation, and had
already descended to the door.
With a mournful heart, though with
a countenance that concealed his emotions
under an air of proud defiance, he
took his place In the ranks, and marched
to the spot where the court were
yet assembled.
"A chair for the prisoner," said some
of the Individuals present, with an officious
alacrity to serve htm.
"I would rather stand." replied Butler.
"It Is my pleasure to hear the behests
of my enemies In the attitude a
soldier would choose to meet his foe
In the field."
"Mine Is a painful duty, Major Butler,"
said Innls rising, as he addressed
the prisoner. "It Is to announce to
you that, after a full and most Impartial
trial. In which you have had the
advantage of the freest examination of
witnesses, and every favor accorded to
you which the usages and customs of
war allowed, you have been found
guilty of two of the charges Imputed
to you In the list with which you were
furnished this morning. Notwithstanding
the satisfactory testimony which
was given In your behalf by the girl.
Mary Musgrove. In relation to your
conduct at the house of Adair, and
however disposed the court were to
abandon an accusation which thus
seemed to be refuted, it has occurred
to them, upon subsequent reflection,
that, by your own confession?given,
sir. permit me to say, with the frankness
of a soldier?you came into this
district in disguise and under false
names, and thus enabled yourself to
collect information relative to the condition
of the royal forces, which it
was doubtless your purpose to use to
our detriment. The court, for a moment.
might have led you to entertain !
hope that they were satisfied that in
this charge you had been wronged.
The simple, affecting, and no doubt,
true, narrative made by the miller's
daughter produced a momentary sensation
that was too powerful to be
combated. That narrative, however,
does not relieve you from the effect of
your own confessions, since both may
be true, and the charge still remain
unimpaired against you.
"The offence of breaking your parole
and infringing the terms of the
capitulation of Charleston, is open to a
legal doubt, and therefore, in tenderness
to you. has not been pressed, although
the court thinks, that the very
circumstance of its doubtful character
should have inculcated upon you the
lOfi |
lOlflSOfli
a
???r
utionary Struggle In *
Carolina. F
r
KENNEDY.
c
necessity of the most scrupulous J|
avoidance of ser\ice in the conquered u
province. c
"The last charge against you is
fully proved. Not a word of counter ^
evidence has been offered. Strictly ?
speaking, by the usages of war, this t!
would not be an offence for the notice r
of a military tribunal. The perpetra- n
tors of it would be liable to such vindictive
measures as the policy of the
conqueror might" choose to adopt.
That we have given you, therefore, the e
benefit of an inquiry, you must regard
as an act of grace, springing out of our g
sincere desire to do you ample Justice, d
The nature of the offence imputed and ti
proved is such as, at this moment, tl
every consideration of expediency de- o
mands should be visited with exempla- tl
ry punishment. The friends of the
royal cause, wherever they may re- fi
side, shall be protected from the wrath v
of the rebel government; and we have v
therefore, no scruple In saying, that c
the attempt upon the person of Mr. o
Philip Lindsay requires a signal retri- w
button. But for this last act. the court li
might have been induced to overlook b
all your other trespasses. Upon this, h
however there is no hesitation. p
"Such being the state of facts ascertained
by this tribunal, its function d
ceases with its certificate of the truth tl
of what has been proved before it. w
The rest remains to me. Without the V
form of an investigation, I might, as b
the commanding officer of a corps on C
detached service, and by virtue of special
nnn-or fAnforrtxl nnnn me_ have o
made up a private judgment In the ii
case. I have forborne to do that, until, a
by the sanction of a verdict of my si
comrades, I might assure myself that g
I acted on the clearest proofs. These ci
have been rendered. bi
"My order, therefore, is in accordance
with the clear decision of the d;
court,?and, speaking to a soldier, I t<
use no unnecessary phrase of condo- y
lence?that you be shot to death. Time ci
presses on us and forbids delay. .You ei
will be conducted to immediate execu- t)
tlon. Major Frazer," he said turning tl
to one of his officers, "to your discre- tl
tion I commit this unpleasant duty." si
Then, in a tone of private direction, he h
added, "Let it be done without delay; w
pomp and ceremony are out of place t?
in such a matter. I wish to have it
despatched at once," w
"I would speak," said Butler, re- ii
pressing the agitation of his feelings,
and addressing Innis with a stern sol- gemnity,
"not to Implore your mercy,
nor to deprecate your sentence: even rr
if I could stoop to such an act of sub- p
mission I know my appeal would reach e
your ears like the idle wind: but I have a
private affairs to speak of."
"They were better untold, sir," inter- w
rupted Innis with an affected air of in- k
difference. "I can listen to nothing it
now. We have other business to think it
of. These last requests and settlements
of private affairs are always
troublesome," he muttered in a tone it
just audible to tne omcers suliiuiiis it
near him; "they conjure up useless ,i,
sympathies." w
"I pray, you, sir," Interposed St. Jermyn.
01
"It is in vain. I cannot hear it," exclaimed
the commander, evidently 0|
struggling to shake from his mind an s
uncomfortable weight. "These are wo- ^
man's request! God's mercy! Now e<
does this differ from death upon the h
field of battle? a soldier is always p
ready. Ha! What have we here?" he tt
exclaimed, as a trooper rode up to the t
group. "Where are you from? What si
news ?" si
"A vldette from Rocky Mount," answered
the horseman. "I am sent to ei
Inform you that, yesterday, Sumpter u
defeated three hundred of our people jt
on the Catawba, and has made all that n
were alive, prisoners, besides capturing ei
fifty or sixty wagons of stores which e
the detachment had under convoy for c
Camden." si
The first inquiries that followed this ]|
communication related to Sumpter's j
position, and especially whether he was n
advancing towards this camp. V
"He is still upon Catawba tending p
northwards," replied the vidette. tl
"Then we are free from danger," interrupted
Innis. "I am stripping the tl
feathers from a bird today that is e
worth half of Sumpter's prize." he f,
added, with a revengeful smile, to an %
officer who stood by him. a
During this interval, in which the s,
commander of the post was engaged ti
with the vidette. the guard had con- |<
ducted the prisoner back to the house, y
and Innis. freed from the restraint of t1
Rutler's presence, now gave way to the a
expression of a savage exultation at s
the power which the events of the c
morning had given him, to inflict pun- s
ishment upon one that he termed an ?
audacious rebel. "The chances jumped
well with us." he said, "when they
enable us to season the joy of these
ragged traitors, by so notable a deed as 1
the execution of one of their shrewdest
emissaries. This fellow Butler has
consideration amongst them, and fortune
too: at least he had it but that
has gone into better hands; and. to j
say truth, he has a bold and mischiev- n
ous spirit. The devil has instigated (
him to cross our path; he shall have ?l
the devil's comfort for it. The whole J
party taken did you say?"? t
"Every man. sir." replied the vidette. t
"How many men had this skulking c
fellow. Suinpter, at his back?" t
"They say about seven hundred." \
"And did the cowards strike to seven \
hundred rebels?" t
"They were tangled with the wag- i
ons." said the soldier, "and were set on s
unawares, on the bank of the river, at I
the lower ferry." t
"Aye. that's the way. An ambus- i
cade, no doubt?a piece of cowardly t
bush-fighting. Fresh men against poor t
devils worn down by long marching! \
Well, well. I have a good requital for i
the rascally trick. Major Butler's \
blood will weigh heavy in the scale, or [
1 am mistaken! Come, gentlemen, let
word belt; it seems, rrom us aaaress,
o contain matter of moment. How it
ame here does not appear."
" 'To Colonel Innls, or any other ofIcer
commanding; a corps in his maesty's
service.'" said Innis, reading:
he superscriptions; "besides, here is
omething significant, 'for life or death,
vith speed.' What can this mean?" he
idded as he broke open the paper and
an his eyes hastily over the contents.
5t. George! here is something strange,
:entlemen. Listen!?
" 'By ill luck I have fallen into the
mssession of the Whisrs. Thev have
eceived intelligence of the capture of I
rlajor Butler, and, apprehending that
ome mischief might befall him, have
onstrained me to inform you that my
Ife will be made answerable for any
larsh treatment that he may receive at
s to quarters?we must hold a counII."
"Here is a letter," said one of the oficers
of the court, "which I have this
loment found on the table, under my
he hands of our friends. They are
esolute men, and will certainly make
;ie the victim of their retaliation.
Edgar St. Jermyn,
Ensign of the 71st Regt.
"P. S.?For God's sake respect this
a per, and be leplent to the prlsonr...
"Treason and forgery, paltry forery!"
exclaimed Innis with a smile of
erision, as he finished reading the leter.
"What ho! tell Frazer to lead out
he prisoner, and despatch him withut
a moment's delay. So much for
his shallow article!"
"A base forgery." said one of the ofcers
in attendance, "and doubtless the
;ork of the rebel major himself. He
ill die with this" silly lie upon his
onsclence. St. Jermyn here!" cried
ut the same officer to the captain,
,-ho was now at some distance, "here
5 an attempt to put a trick upon us
y a counterfeit of your brother's
and, telling a most doleful and imrobable
falsehood. Look at it."
St. Jermyn read the letter, and sudenly
turning pale exclaimed: "Sir,
his is no trick. It Is my brother's own
rrltlng. He is in the custody of the
yhigs! How came this here? Who
rought It? When was it written?
'an nobody tell me?"
rut, St. jermyn!" tnterruptea tne
fficer, smiling, "you surely cannot be
nposed upon by such a device. Look
t the scrawl again. In truth, are you
lire of it. man?" he inquired with
reat surprise, as he perceived the Inreasing
paleness of St. Jermyn's
row.
"My brother's life is in imminent
anger." replied St. Jermyn with inrnse
earnestness. "Colonel Innis, as
ou value my happiness, I entreat you,
ountermand the o.-der for the prisonr's
execution. I implore you, respect
lis letter. It is genuine, and I dread
ie consequences. My poor brother,
le youngest of my family and the
peclal darling of his parents! For
eaven's sake good colonel, pause until
e learn something more of this mys;rious
business."
"For your sake, my friend, and until
e can investigate this matter," said'
inis "let the execution be suspended."
St. Jermyn Instantly hurried to the
uard, to communicate the new order.
"Whence comes this missive?" delanded
Innis. "It has neither date nor
lace described. Who brought it?
id any one see the bearer?" he asked
!oud of the bystanders.
No one answered except the officer
ho had first discovered the paper. "I
now nothing more than what you see.
was here upon the table. How long
had been there I cannot tell."
"It is strange," continued Innis.
Can this young St. Jermyn have falm
in with Sumpter? Or, after all is
not an ingenious forgery which has
ereived our friend, the cantain? Still.
ho could have brought It here?"
The letter was again examined by
rery individual present.
"It must be genuine." said one of the
(fleers, shaking his head. "Captain
t. Jermyn was very much in earnest,
nd it is not likely he could be deceivi.
It has been mysteriously deposited
ere by some agent of the Whigs. The
erson should be found, and compelled
) give us more specific information,
his matter must be looked to; the enign,
I doubt not, is in perilous circumtances."
"Let the prisoner be strictly guard[3.
and held to wait our future pleasre."
said Innis. "I would not put In
fopardy the young ensign's life. A
-ward of twenty guineas shall be giv11
to any one who brings me the bearr
of this letter. And you. Lieutenant
onnelly, take thirty troopers and
pour the country round to gain intelgence
of this capture of Edgar St.
ermyn. Be careful to examine every
lan you meet, as to the presence of
^'hig parties in this district. Away
istantly. and do not return without
Idings of this singular event."
The camp by this occurrence, was
hrown into great bustle. The prlsonr
was securely lodged in his former
uarters, and placed under a double
uard: consultations were held
mongst the officers; and Butler himelf
was strictly Interrogated In regard
[> the appearance of this mysterious
rdter of the contents of which he was
et ignorant. The examination threw
o light on the affair; and very soon
fterwards, a troop of horse were seen
allying beyond the limits of the
amp. under Lieutenant Connelly, to
eek information of the fate of Ensign
>t. Jermyn.
CHAPTER XXVI.
"he Sergeant and His Comrade Project
an Expedition Which Furnishes
the Ensign an Opportunity of Enjoying
the Picturesque.
As soon as David Ramsay had departed
with the maiden for Musgrove's
nill. Robinson ordered his own and
Christopher Shaw's horse to be sadlied.
and another to be made ready for
*t. Jermyn. His next care was to deermine
upon a secure place of rerent?reflecting
that the news of the
apture of the ensign must soon reach
he British posts, and that the country
VOUItl Ut* lllUU?iriOUSI> rApwiru inum
lew to his rescue. A spot known to
he woodsmen of this region by the
tame of the Devil's Ladder, which was
iituuted in the defile of a mountain
>rook that emptied into the Ennoree,
iccurred to Christopher Shaw as the
nost secret fastness within their
each. This spot lay some twenty
niles westward of Ramsay's, accessi>Ie
by roads but little known, and sur outided
by a district which grew more
vild and rugged the nearer it aptroached
the defile.
Here it was supposed the party
nilgai tirrive uy uayugiu mc ?<>
morning, and remain for a few days
small risk of discovery; and thith
accordingly, it was resolved th
should repair.
This being settled, Horse Shoe n
procured a supply of provisions fn
Mistress Ramsay, and then proceed
to arm himself with the sword and p
tols of the ensign, whilst Christopl
suspended across his body the swc
of Goliath, as the sergeant called 1
brand he had snatched up at Blac
1 ? ? J ? * ? ? AAMIB mammamciIAM /I# r
SIOCK M, fcWIU ai?U IUUIV. puoocooivil VI V
of the captured muskets.
"If It don't go against your cc
science. Mistress Ramsay," said Hoi
Shoe, when the preparations for <
Journey were completed, "I would ta
it as a favor, in case any lnterlop*
mought happen to pop in upon you,
you would just drop a hint that y
have heard that Sumpter"s people h
been seen about these parts. It woi
have an amazing good bearing on t
Tories. Besides making them wa
how they strayed about the woods
would be sure to put the bloodhoun
on a wrong scent, if they shoi
chance to be sarching for the you
ensign. I know you women are a lit
ticklish about a fib, but then it's
honest trick of the war sometlm
And. to make you easy about it, it v,
be no more than the truth to say y
did hear It?for you obsarve, I tell y
so now."
"But." replied the scrupulous m
tron, "if they should ask me who tc
me, what should I answer?"
"Why," said the sergeant hesltatir
"just out with it?tell 'em you hea
it from one Horse Shoe Roblnso
that'll not make the news the worst
the point of credit. And be sure, go
woman, above all things, to reml
David, when he gets back tonigl
that the rank and file, in our prls
yonder, are not to be turned loose b
fore three o'clock in the morning."
This last caution was repeated
Andy, who still performed the duty
a sentinel at the door of the outhoui
All things being now arranged f
their departure, Ensign St. Jermyn w
brought from the chamber where
had been confined, and was Invited
join the sergeant and Christopher
supper before they left. This meal w
ably and rapidly discussed oy t
stout yeoman, and scarcely less hone
ed by the prisoner, whom the tolls ai
privations of the day had brought
enjoyment of a good appetite.
With many cheering and kind e
presslons of encouragement from t
sergeant, the young officer prepared
comply with the demands of his ca
tors, and was soon in readiness to a
tend them. Robinson lifted him in
his saddle with a grasp as light as
he was dealing with a boy, and th
bound him by the surcingle to t
horse's back, whilst he offered a goo
humored apology for the rigor of tl
treatment.
"It is not the most comfortable wi
of riding Mr. Ensign," he said, witi
chuckle; "but fast bind fast find,
a'most an excellent good rule for
traveler in the dark. I hope you doi
think I take any pleasure in oncor
moding you, but it Is my intention
lead your horse by the rein tonigl
and this friend of mine will keep in t
rear. So, by way of a caution, I wou
just signify to you that if you shou
think of a playing a prank you w
certainly bring some trouble upon yo
head?as one or another of us wou
in that case be obliged to fire. It
nothing more than military punctiliu
to give you a friendly warning
this."
"You might dispense with this seve
Ity, I should think," replied the prl
oner, "upon my pledge of honor tha
will make no effort to escape."
"I can take no pledge in the darl
returned Horse Shoe; "dayllg
mought maKe a difference. If i
should happen to fall in with any
your gangs I'm thinking a pled
wouldn't come to much more than
the way of your own people. Flesh
weak, as the preacher says, and. to r
mind, It Is a little the weaker wh
the arm Is strong or the foot swl
Temptation is at the bottom of i
backsliding. No. no, Mr. Ensign, y<
may get away, if you can; we'll ta
care of you whilst we're able?that's
simple understanding."
Without further speech the par
proceeded on their journey. Th
traveled as rapidly as was consiste
with the ease of the prisoner and t
nature of the ground over which th
had to move. For the first eight
ten miles, their route lay across
country with but few impedimen
except such as arose from the unse
sonable hour of the ride. After tl
they found the toil and hazard of tra
el continually increasing. They h
been retreating from the settled cou
try towards a rough wilderness, whi
was penetrated only by an obscu
road, so little beaten as to be scarce
discernible in the faint starlight, a
which it required all Christophe
skill in woodcraft to follow. Our tra
elers, consequently, often last th?
way, and were obliged to get do\
from their horses and grope about
ascertain the path. The stars h
shone all night through a cloudle
firmament, but the deep shade of t
forest thickened around the wandt
ers nnr! if was frenuenHv with (Iff
cully, even that they could dlsce
each other's figures.
They reached at length the sm
stream upon whose banks, some mil
above, was situated the place to whl
their steps were directed; and th
were thus rendered more sure of thi
road, as they had only to follow t
ascending course of the brook. T
delays and Impediments of the journ
had nearly outrun the night a
whilst our travelers were yet somet'
or three miles from their destlnath
the first traces of morning began
appear in the east. The increasi
light disclosed to them the nature
the scenery around. A limpid rivu
tumbled over a rocky channel, g
with a profusion of brush and bri
amongst which were scattered a tbo
sand wild-flowers, that renovated
the dew, threw forth a delicious p<
fume. A succession of abrupt hil
covered with the varied foliage of
rich forest growth, bounded the bro
on either side. Occasional rocks Jt
ted above the heads of the travelers
they wound along the paths, worn
the wild cattle in the bottom of t
dell.
Both Robinson and Shaw had d
mounted when they entered this def
and whilst the former led the horse
the prisoner his companion preced
at the road, which frequently became sc
er, obscure as to render It necessary t<
ley seek a passage in the bed of th<
stream. During all this progress Horst
ow Shoe's good-nature and light-heartedam
ness were unabated. He conversed
led with the prisoner In the same terms ol
Is- friendly familiarity that he did with
ier Shaw, and neglected no attention thai
>rd might in any degree relieve the lrk;he
someness of St. Jermyn's necessary
:k- thraldom.
>ne That peculiar conformation of coun
I try which had given rise to the name
in- of the place to which they were conrse
ducting the prisoner, was now to be
;he discerned at some little dlstanc
,ke ahead. It presented a series of bold
;rs crags of granite Intermixed with slate,
if In which rock piled upon rock preou
sented a succession of shelves, each
ad beetling over Its base, and thus furild
nlshlng a shelter against the weather
he Some of these were situated near the
,ry bank of the stream, projecting over
it watej whilst others towered at dlfferds
ent ^eights, in such a manner as to
lid bear a resemblance to a flight of huge
ng steps! cut In the slope of the mountain,
tie and by this likeness, doubtless, sugan
gestlhg the Imaginative name by which
e8< the f pot was known to the few hunrin
ters to whom it was familiar. The
ou cave: nllke structure of these ledges
ou abouhdantly supplied the means of
concealment to both men and horses,
a_ fron> the casual notice of such persons
,ld as abcident might have brought Into
this sequestered defile,
jg When the party arrived at the foot
rd of the Devil's Ladder, It was with
n; great satisfaction to all that they now
jn made a halt. A short time was spent
od In selecting a spot, amongst the lmnd
pending cliffs, of such a character as
ht, might afford the advantage of shelter,
on as well as the means of ready lookout
,e- andjescape In case of discovery or pursuit^
The place chosen was about
to half' way up the hill, where the ridge
of of ai promontory enabled the occupants
ge. to see some distance up and down the
or valley; whilst the crag Itself contained
as within its recesses a chamber sufflhe
ciently large for the purpose to which
to it was to be applied. A natural platat
form, near this point, allowed sufflas
cient space for the horses, which might
he be conducted there by a sidelong path
?r- up the slope; at the same time, the
nd means of retreat were furnished by
to the nature of the ground towards the
top of the hill,
x- To this place of security the ensign
he was ordered by his guard, and being
to released from his bonds, he dismountp
fd and threw himself at length upon
it- the mossy surface of the rock, where
ito he lay wearied in body and dejected
If in mind. The horses were taken in
en charge by Shaw; provisions were prohe
duced, and all arrangements of caution
d- and comfort were made for passing the
Us next two or three days in this wild sojourn.
ay Here, for the present, we must leave
i a o0? adventurers, to tell of other matis
terp that are proper to be made known
a to the reader of this history,
a't In due. time David Ramsay returned
n- from Musgrove's. Precisely at three
to o'clock in the morning, the soldiers
at, were released according to the terms
he of the parole; and my reader will, no
ild doubt, be pleased to hear that Andy,
uems UIBCIIttlKCU IIUIII uuijr, nciu
tu bed as drowsy as e'er a man of mould
ur after a feat of glory, and slept with a
ild sleep altogether worthy of his heroic
is achievement.
im The next day passed by, at Ramsay's
of dwelling, with a varied and fearful Interest
to his family. They had receivr
ed Intelligence, before night, of the
s- event of Butler's trial, and had reaso n
11 to rejoice that Mary Musgrove had so
played her part in the delivery of the
c." letter. They were apprised also of the
ht reward that had been offered for the
ve discovery of the bearer of this letter,
of and were informed that detachments
ge of horse were out to scour the country
a In quest of the ensign. These tidings
of filled them with apprehension. It ocis
curred to Ramsay that if, perchance,
ny the released prisoners should fall In
en with any of the parties of the loyalft.
its, they would of course, relate their
all story, and thus bring down the full
ou rancor of the Tory wrath upon his
household?this would also lead with
a more certainty to the pursuit of Horse
Shoe. There was still good reason to
hope that the liberated men might not
ey so soon be able to give the alarm; Innt
usmuch as they were more likely to
ae shape their course towards Fort Nineey
ty-Six than to repair to Innls' camp,
or whf re they might be forced to do
a duty, as much against their inclination
as against their parole. They might
a" even, from a natural aversion to labor,
lls prefer loitering about the country rathv"
er than put themselves voluntarily In
aa the way of military operations.
n" "Come what will of it," said Ram-<uy,
summing up the chances for and
ire against him; "I will be ready for the
worst. Many better men have given
n(* all they had to the cause of Independrs
orw.o onh t will not flinch from eiving
v" my share. They may burn and break
?'r down; but. thank Ood I have a counvn
try?aye. and a heart and an arm to
to stand by it!"
^ On the same evening:, towards sunss
down, a horseman drew up his rein at
Ramsay's door. He was young?In the
r" prime of early manhood, his dress was
that of a rustic, his equipment showed
in him to be a traveler?a weary one,
from the plight of his horse, and, like
a" most travelers of the time, well arm'es
ed. He did not stand to summon any
one to the door, but put his hand upon
ey the latch with eager haste, and entere'r
ed with the familiarity of one acquainted
with the place. Mistress
Ramsay was seated at her spinning
ey wheel, anxiously brooding over the
nt* tales of the day. Her husband rewo
cHned in his chair, silently and
Jn" thoughtfully smoking his pipe. They
*? both sprang up at once, as the visitor
crossed the threshold, and with fer
* *?- ? ? ?Iw.I? oAn Tnhn Ram
let >,~"1 JU' Blcciru
, . say. The household was clamorous
irt
with the affectionate salutations of the
ar' parents of the brothers and sisters,
'U~ and of the domestics. John was the
by
eldest of Ramsay's children, and had
IJ*.
' Just reached his paternal roof after an
r'' absence of some months, during which
. he had been In service with Sumpter,
The gathering in of the members ol
1 " a family around the domestic board,
QS
in times of peril and distress, is one
. ^ of the luxuries of the heart that in
h0
peace we cannot know. The arrival
jg_ of John Ramsay at the present mode
m<>nt was a source of the liveliest happiness
to his parents. They needed a
cheerful as well as a resolute eomfor
) previous, left Sumpter near Roch
) Mount?immediately after the battle t
s which the British convoy was won. K
? was sent with despatches to Col. Wi
liams, a Whig partisan of note, who wt
I now supposed to be in the neighborhoc
f of the Saluda. These had some referent
i to the military movements of the pai
t ties; and John Ramsay was permitte
by Sumter to make a short halt at h
' father's house.
In the first hour after his arrival, li
had given to the family the history <
! his homeward ride. He had discovere
. that hostile forces?of which, until h
> journey was nearly finished, he hear
> nothing?were encamped In the neigh
1 borhood; that a court martial had bee
, sitting for the trial of an American ol
fleer, as a spy, and had condemne
i him to be shot. He had been apprise*
moreover, that small parties were ou
, riding Into every corner of the countr;
He himself had nearly been surprise
by one of these, as he endeavored t
make his way to the house of Alle
i Musgrove where he had proposed t
himself a visit, even before he cam
, to his father's, but, fearing somethln
wrong, he had fled from them, an
i baffled their pursuit, although the
had chased him more than a mile; h
t had. In consequence, been deprived c
i the opportunity of visiting the miller.
' "Although It Is four months sine
we have seen you, John," said th
i dame, with a tone of affectionate chid
i ing, "yet, you would turn aside to g<
under Allen Musgrove's roof, befot
you thought of the arms of you
mother."
John's sunburnt cheek blushed crim
son red as he replied: "It was but
step out of the way, mother, and
should not have stayed long. M
Musgrove and his folks are safe an
well, I hope, and Christopher?"
"Tut, boy! speak It out, and don
blush about it," interrupted the fathe
briskly: "she Is a good girl, and yo
needn't be ashamed to name her, a
vou ought to have done, first and be
fore all the rest. Mary Is well, Johi
and has Just proved herself to be th
best girl In the country."
This little passage of mirth betwee
the parents and their son, led to a fu
narrative by David Ramsay of th
events which had occurred In the las
two or three days, concluding with th
capture of the ensign, and the retrea
of Horse Shoe and Christopher Sha^
to the Devil's Ladder. The communl
cation wrought a grave and thoughtfi
mood on the young soldier. It present
ed a crisis to him for immediate ac
tlon. He was wearied with a long rld(
but It seemed to him to be no time fo
rest.
"Father," he said, after turning ove
in his thoughts the intelligence he ha
just received, "It was a brave an
beautiful thing for so young a lad a
Andy to do; and the taking of the en
sign has served a useful purpose, bu
It brings this house and lamlfy lnt
danger. And I fear for poor Marj
Christopher Shaw must get b uck t
the mill, and quickly too. His aosenc
will bring his uncle's family into trou
ble. I will take Christopher's plac<
and go to Horse Shoe's assistat ce thi
night. We may take the prisom r wit
us to Williams."
"Tonight!" said the mother anxious
ly, "you would not leave us tontgh
John?"
"Aye, tonight, wife," answered Dav
is Ramsay, "the boy is right, there i
no time to spare."
"Have mercy upon us," excialme
the dame; "to ride so far tonight, af
ter so heavy a Journey, John!?yo
have not strength."
"Dear mother," said John, "thin
that you are all in danger and tha
Mary, who has behaved so well, mlgh
be suspected, and brought to harm,
must hurry forward to Colonel Wil
Hams, and this road by the Devil"
Ladder is far out of my way. No,
ain not so much fatigued, mother, a
vou suppose. I will rest for a fee
hours and then try the woods. Day
break. I warrant, shall not find me fa
from Horse Shoe."
John Ramsay was not above six an
twenty. He was endued with a stou
and manly rrame, well adapted to har
service: and this was associated wit
a bold and intelligent countenanci
which, notwithstanding the dint c
wind and weather, was handsome. H
had for a year or two past been ac
tively engaged in the war, and hi
manners had. In consequence, acquire
that maturity and decision which ar
gt nerally found in those whose habit
of life render them familiar with per
lis. On the present occasion he re
garded the necessity of co-operatlo
with Robinson as so urgent, that n
other thought crossed his mind bu
that which belonged to the care of put
ting himself in condition to make hi
service effectual.
With this view he now directed hi
horse to be carefully tended; ther
having taken a hearty meal, he retire
to rest, desiring that he might b
waked up at midnight, when he pro
posed to follow the path of Horse Sho
and his comrade.
TO BE CONTINUED.
FRESH BLOW AT DRUMMERS.
Their Business Hurt by the Establish
ment of Distributing Oentrss.
"First it was the trusts and now 1
J-s the distributing centres that ar
out against us," said tt drummei
"The combines threw a lot of com
merciai travelers out of their job
and now they have devised the dis
tributtng centres idea to make it sti
more difficult for us to earn a llvini
"The time was when all big manu
racturing concerns seni traveling me
all over the country. Into every crar
ny and nook where sales might b
, possible. Of course It made th
traveling expenses enormous, an
our commissions amounted to a ver
satisfactory sum."
"Now these same manufacturei
, go on a hunt for what they call ceii
tres and there they establish
branch store, where their good's ar
sold wholesale to the cities fo- mllf
i around. For instance, where I use
to go to all the towns of any consldei
1 able size in a certain state, now I g
to only one third of them, for th
distributing centres have taken m
I Job.
"In the larger cities these centre
1 have been established and the sma
i merchants from the towns aroun
come in to do their buying. Thes
manufacturers are inducing the mei
chants to come to them. Instead c
> going to the merchants, and ther
i seems to be satisfaction on hot
, sides.
"Of course It Is tough on the ma
who has been a commercial travelc
all his life and probably couldn
succeed at any other Job, but it's Jus
another proof that what Is a ne1
' business method today Is antiquate
tomorrow."?New York Sun.
y zuipivmuiiuu?
Ie ROMANCE OF GEN. WHEELER.
1
18 How the Confederate Hero Got Hit
Wife.
:e Ella Jones was In every way worthy
Ul utflllK ult; WIIC ui SUUII a man
^ General Wheeler. She was a superior
ls woman In every way and she and Gen.
Wheeler were lovers from the time
16 they met till death called her from
>r his side. Bom In a wealthy and cultured
home, she had not only superior
18 advantages of excellent school train^
Ing, but she had the constant assoclatlon
of a mother of remarkable Inteln
llgence of mind and ability.
Mrs. Jones was an Invalid and cond
fined to her room during the years of
her married life. Her great pleasure
and diversion was her looks and she
]f' was considered one of the best read
^ women of her day. She bestowed the
? greatest attention on the education of
n her daughter. At the age of twelve she
? was sent to a famous boarding school at
ie Huatsvllle, Ala., In company with Miss
e King, daughter of a wealthy merchant,
11 Mr. Robert King of Courtland. Col.
y onel Jones could deny his daughter
18 nothing. He Indulged her every whim
and mood. He was very proud of the
beautiful and gifted girl. Miss Jones
:e and Miss King were boarding in
e Huntsvllle at the residence of Colonel
Bradford. On one occasion. Colonel
* Jones and Mr. King were visiting
e their daughters in Huntsvllle. Mr.
Ir King was making some moneyed arrangements
for his daughter when Col.
l" Bradford turned to Col. Jones and said,
a "And now colonel, what can I do for
* Miss Ella?" Colonel Jones answered
r "Anything she wishes, Colonel Brad^
ford. If she requires you to have the
court house moved, have It done and
I draw on me for costs. If she wants
'r the town hall pulled down, have It
u done at once and don't consider ihe
s cost. If she wants you to feed all the
" hungry children of the city and nation,
Issue a call at once for supplies and
e Iraw on me for the check. Whatever
El'a wants she can have It."
n It used to be said In Courtland that
II It was a wonder Ella Wheeler was not
e spoilt beyond redemption, but her
sturdy father knew the stock from
e which she came and the excellent
lt mother who guided her. She was not
v parvenu: her family had been rich for
generations and she had been taught
11 by her good mother to value things of
" the mind and heart more than costly
Jewels and beautiful dresses. When she
3 was very young Ella Jones was mar""
ried to Col. Benjamin Sherrod, the
wealthiest man In North Alabama. He
r lived only a short time, and early In
^ the civil war he died and she was left
^ a beautiful widow with one child, a
s little crippled boy?In fact, she was
said to be the richest woman In Alait
Vtn mn Tt ion In Uia V,nnrlnnlnni nf 1 flAI
170.il in. A V T? CIO All lilt l/tglilillllg U4 *UV1|
? shortly after his marriage and extenr'
slve travels that the late Mr. George
? W. Points went to Lawrence county
:e to visit his two brothers, who had
plantations near Courtland. The war
broke out, and his wife being In 1118
health, he purchased a beautiful sum^
mer residence, "Mountain Home," adJoining
the Jones', afterward called the
Wheeler estate. Mrs. Sherrod was then
residing with her mother. C'donel Tom
Jones was then at war. And now begins
the romance of General Wheeler's
8 life?a little episode that does not
figure In the generally known history
^ of the dashing cavalryman. General
Rosecrans, with a large Federal army,
u occupied Chattanooga and Major General
Wheeler made a raid In his rear
Is
'o cut off his supplies.
These had to be hauled in wagons
l* across the mountains. It was a famous
* raid for material des'ructlon and
'asted for forty days. General Wheel8
er had the broad Tennessee river be1
tween him and the Confederate army
8 but he succeeded In cutting off the
* Federals until In the language of their
great historian. Draper, "distress ber
gan to reign In their camps, the animals
of the trains starved until there
^ were not horses enough to take a batlt
tery Into action, and It became doubtd
ful whether the national army could
^ ho!d Chattanooga much longer." Gen"
eral Wheeler had had repeated confilets
with the Federal cavalry. Once
e the Federals pressed upon his small
force to the number of about 13,000.
8 and for some days, whilst making his
^ retreat, he had to repulse them from
e every hilltop until he forded the Ten8
nessee river. Having safely crossed the
river, he made his headquarters at the
home of Colonel Jones. It was here
n that General Wheeler himself became
? a prisoner, not to the Federal army,
1 but to the beautiful young widow
Sherrod. Her charm, her grace, her
8 vivacity, her devotion to her sick mother.
her old father and her little crlp8
pled child made a great Impression up'
on him. He was compelled to continue
^ his retreat, but the memory of Mrs.
e Sherrod remained In his heart. Somehow
or other the "Yankees" got an
e 1 ikling of this and determined to have
their revenge. A body of them crossed
the Tennessee river and raided the
Jones' home. They carried off Colonel
Jones, and being told that there was
an Invalid In the house, the wife of
Colonel Jones, who had not been able
to leave her bed for thirty years they
It said that they would make her leave It,
e and proceeded to set the house on fire,
[j Mrs. Sherrod was vvlth her mother as
is the flames were approaching and would
i- not leave her and her helpless child.
" The nearest home was that of Mr. G.
W. Points, half a mile away, and
n there, too the enemy encamped on the
i- ground. Mrs. Points, who was in 111'*
htaith and her young babe were at the
d mercy of the destroyers,
y They burned down the smoke house
aud outhouses, destroyed the carriages,
entered the house, cut all the clothes
a Into threads, carried off the horses and
? provisions for man and beast and such
slaves as would follow, and proceeded
. next to the home of Mr. Swope, the
o brother-in-law of Colonel Jones to cone
tlnue their depredations. In the meany
time those of the slaves of Mrs. Sherds
rod who had remained faithful, gathII
ered around their young mistress and
^ aided In rescuing Mrs. Jones from the
burning home. Mrs. Sherrod had her
if hr?rne to the residence of Mrs. Points,
? and accompanied her there with her
11 little cripple son, and here she remalnn
ed a welcome guest almost to the close
*r of the war. It was here that General
Wheeler continued his attention to the
w beautiful young widow, embracing
d every opportunity that offered to visit
her. When the battle was raging around
he frequently visited the Point home
and the mountain folks used to say
Pond Springs and circumnavigating
around the widow Sherrod."
Many a time during the dark days
when the poor Confederate army passed
along the road from Courtland to
Decatur, did the veterans camp upon
the ground of Mr. Point's home and
Mrs. Sherrod, afterward Mrs. Wheeler,
Mrs. Points and her sisters, Mrs Odele
Points ministered to their wants, giving
the best that the home afforded to
the defenders of their country. A sewing
circle was also organized and the
weaving, spinning and sewing for the
soldiers was done and the soldiers
were supplied as far as possible as the
regiments passed "Mountain Home."
When the war was over Mrs. Jones
and Mrs. Sherrod returned to their
beautiful home and In 1868, General
Wheeler and Mrs. Sherrod were married.
Shortly after the marriage little
Benjamin Sherrod died and the
mother Inherited his share of his
fatherju estate. It was in 1868 also
that General and Mrs. Wheeler visited
New Orleans, stopping In the
famous old square In Chart res street,
between Port and St. Ferdinand, a
section of the old Foumourg Marlgny,
made famous by the residence
of the Notts, Kennedys, Canonge and
others. Mr. Points continued to
have his summer home at Mountain
Home for some years after, and General
Wheeler and family resided In
the old Jones homestead and the
section took the name of Wheeler
station, from the distinguished Confederate,
whose presence honored It
Gen. Wheeler began the practice of
law In Courtland, returning home
daily. In the meantime old Mrs.
Jones, who had been an invalid for
so many years, died and was Interred
In the old family burying ground
within the family estate. Following
the beautiful old Virginia custom,
General Wheeler sent around to Intimate
friends the old family Bible,
opened with a piece of crepe across
the page marking Mrs. Jones' death.
The family life of the Wheeler's
was very beautiful. Mrs. Wheeler
also early in her married life
became an Invalid, and Gen. Wheeler
was both father and mother to
| the children. These children were
Lucy. Louise, Annie Early, Julia.
Knox. Joseph, Peyton and Tom FenI
wlcke.
General Wheeler was one of the
kindest of fathers. Arm and loving,
but he did not indulge his children
foolishly. As an Instance, they had
the most beautiful chlnaware In their
home. A great deal of It was being
broken unnecessarily, and wishing to
teach his children to be careful In
handling beautiful ware, he went to
Courtland and purchased a number
of tin plates and cups and these were
used for quite a while In the home
at breakfast, dinner and supper until
no longer required.
I*e was loved. by all of his neighbors.
He led a pure and noble life,
and his first great grief was the death
of his wife. She was laid to rest in
the old family burying ground among
the trees and flowers she loved so
well, and here a few years ago her
son, Tom, who was drowned at Montauk
Point, was laid to rest beside
her. General Wheeler was Idolised
by his children. His daughters looked
upon him as the "Preux Chevalier
sans peur et sans repreche." For
many years after the war he represented
the eighth congressional district
of Alabama In congress, and It
used to be said of him and during
the time that he was such a dashing
Confederate cavalryman, that he
was "firmly -seated In his saddle."
When the Spanish war broke out
his daughter, Annie, enlisted as an
army nurse In order to be near her
father and nurse him in case of sickness
or accident. The three other
daughters followed her to Cuba and
remained until the close of the war.
V. ftnft oMMron tho
death of their noble father falls as
a terrible blow that time only can
assuage.?Nashville Banner.
PARIS TO TIMBUKTU.
Train* to Run Now to Edge of Sahara
Desert.
In August next, regular steam communication
is to be opened between
the Atlantic port of Dakar, in Senegal,
and the famous town of Timbuktu
near the Niger, on the southern edge
of the Sahara desert. Any globe
trotter who desires may make the
Journey, and if he connects closely with
the river and railroad systems leading
from the Atlantic to the great northern
bend of the Niger, he will be landed
at Timbuktu In nineteen days after
putting out of the railway station
in Paris.
It is enough to make African Rip
Van Winkles rub their eyes after the
sleep of ages, and the white races will
look upon the achievement as one of
the wonders of the year.
Two little steamers have been sent
from France, the last appliances needed
to open these new facilities for
A -? T'rtrtU ansnmmn.
iraiiH(Jurutuuii. uii;m iioo
datlons for fifty passengers and can
carry fifty tons of freight. They will
ply on the Niger between Kullkoro.
the terminus of the railroad now In
operation from Kayes, on the Senegal
river, and Ansonga. a distance by river
of a little over 800 miles. So Timbuktu
will be only a way station on the
route, for Its port Is only about 600
miles from Kullkoro. The steamers are
expected to reach the Niger in March
or April, and some months will be required
to put them together, install the
machinery, and make the final preparations
for starting the regular steam
service between France and Ansonga,
The service will not be put into operatlon
until August
The estimated time between Paris
and Timbuktu has been announced.
From Paris to Bordeaux, one day;
from Bordeaux to Dakar, by th?
French Messagerles Mart times, eight
days; from Dakar to St Louis, at the
mouth of the Senegal river, one day;
from St. Louis to Kayes, from Kayes
to Kulikoro on the Niger, through the
forested region between the Senegal
and Niger river systems, two days;
from Kulikoro to Timbuktu, by Niger
steamers, four days; total, nineteen
days.
So the Journey from Europe will be
made In safety and with many of the
comforts of modern transportation,
and the trip may be made In fewer
days than the pioneers required
months, as they pushed on their tollsome
way. at the peril of their lives,
over the desert sands or through the
African Jungle.?New York Sun.