Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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HORSE-SHOE ROBINSON A TALE OF THE TORY ASCENDENCY BY JOHN P. KENNEDY CHAPTER XLV Great agitation prevailed at Mac ed towards Fair Forest? I should be sorry if John was to be troubled with the maiden hesitated an instant,— “because it’s unpleasant and dis agreeable to be obliged to be riding donald’s post, when the morning dis- persons going after him; because,”- closed the escape of Butler. The lieutenant was conscious that this mischance had exposed him to the risk of heavy censure, and, as was off the road, through bushes and natural to a man who could not en-1 briars, to keep out of the way.” tirely acquite himself of some neg-1 “if they were not greatly an over- lect in the performance of his duty,; match, girl,” interrupted Ramsay, his first measures were taken in a “John wouldn’t give himself much spirit of pevish and angry severity, trouble upon that account.” . Small parties were sent out to ex- “Oh, Mr. Ramsay,’’ said Mary ear- plore the neighborhood, with a view nestly, “I was thinking of that. It's to gain intelligence of the direction hard to say what John would call an taken by the fugitive, with orders overmatch: men are so headstrong to bring him in dead or alive. The and venturesome.” sentinels who were on duty during “That’s God’s own truth. Mary,” in- the night were arrested, and subject terposed Mrs. Ramsay; “and what I to a rigid examination on the events have always been telling David and of their watch; the several members John both. But they never heed me. of MHisgrove's family were also in- no more than if I was talking to the terrogated as to matters touching child in that cradle.” their own connexion with the priso- “I’ve told John as much myself,” ner. Nothing, however, was b ather- said Mary, blushing, ed from these investigations that “And he would not heed you was calculated to cast a suspicion of either,” interrupted her father. “A connivance in Butler’s liberation, soldier would have a holiday life of upon any individual either of the gar- it, if he followed the advice of his risen or of the family. It was only mother or his sweetheart. Daughter, apparent that the prisoner had avail- amongst friends here you needn’t ed himself of the remissness of the blush; we know more of the secrets guard and the darkness of the night, betwixt you and the trooper lad than to make a bold descent from the you count upon. John’s a clever boy, window, and had succeeded by one Mistress Ramsay, and I think you of those lucky accidents which some- have reason to brag of him some times baffle the most cautious fore- what; and as there’s particular sight. The nature of the attempt good-will between him and my Mary, did not necessarily suppose the aid i’ll not stand in the way when the of an accomplice, and a faint hope war is over, if God spares us all. and was, therefore, entertained that But-! Mary and the lad keep in the same ler would be found still lurking in mind; I’ll not stand in the way of a the vicinity of the post. new settlement in the neighborhood. In the course of a few hours, the Mary is a good daughter, well nur- flrst parties that had been dis- tured. and—I don’t care to say it to patched in the morning returned, her face—will make a thriving wife.” They could give no account of the The mother smiled as she replied, prisoner; nor was there any light “i don’t pretend to know the young thrown upon the escape until about. people's secrets, but I know this, you the dinner hour, when a portion of don’t think better of Mary than John the detachment which had intercept- does—nor than me neither, perhaps.” ed Butler and his comrades in the The conversation was interrupted morning, arrived at the mill, under by a knocking at the door, and, in a the conduct of the soldier whose sus- moment afterwards, Arthur Butler pieions had led to the pursuit and and the woodman entered the apart- skirmish which we have already ment. described. The report of these men “Majo r Butler, as I am a living wo- left Macdonald no room to doubt the man!” exclaimed Mrs. Ramsay, identity of Butler with the person “Our good friend himself!” ejacu- dfscribed. A further examination, lated Musgrove, with surprise. "What at the suggestion of the soldier, has turned you back? And Gabriel showed that Wall-Eye the wagon- ; Drummond here too! What has hap- horse. was missing; and it now be- pened?” came certain that Butler had been “Wfiere is my son John?” demand- aided by a party of the enemy with ed Ramsay. “Are you followed?” whom iW must have been in corres- Butler walked tip to Mrs. Ramsay, pondence. The conclusion was, that, and. as a tear started to his eye. with his means of flight there could took her by the hand, and stood for be little doubt of his being, long be- a moment unable to speak, fore the present period of the day, “Oh, heaven have mercy on me!” out of the reach of successful pur- 1 screamed Mary Musgrove, as she suit. The scheme was laid to the threw herself upon a bed, “something account of Horse Shoe Robinson.! dreadful ha s happened.” whose name and adventures were al- “For God’s sake, speak what you ready famous in this district; and it have to tell!” said David Ramsay, in- was ‘ conjectured that Sumpter was stantly turning pale, secretly posted in some neighboring “John Ramgay is hurt,” faintly ar- fastness to give his assistance to ^lie ticulated the mother, and Mary, ris- enterprise. ing from the bed, stood beside Butler With these reflections. Macdonald with a countenance on which was felt himself obliged to submit to the | seated the most agonizing attention, exigencies of the case; a point of Andy, the hero of the exploit we have pkilosophv which he did not prac- heretofore related, also pressed into tise without a very visible chagrin the presence of the same group, and and mortification. ' His men were i a death-like silence pervaded the called togather. and after a short, j whole party. fretful lecture on their neglect, and Butler, with an ineffectual effort to an injunction to a more soldier-like vigilance in future, which savored of the caution of locking the stable af ter the steed was stolen, they were dismissed. About an hour before sun-down, Allen Musgrove and Mary, availing themselves of the confusion and re laxed discipline of the post, occas ioned by the events of the morning, set out on horesback for David Ram say's dwelling, whither they were led by a natural anxiety to learn some thing of the movements of the fugi tives. Tt's a pleasure and a happiness. Allen Musgrove," said Mistress Ram say, as the miller and his daugther . t down on the cabin, “to see you nil Mary over here with us at any t ine, but it is specially so now when we have good news to tell. John and his friend are safe out of reach of Macdonald's men. and—God be prais ed!—I hope out of the*way of all •tber harms. We have had soldiers nodging in and out through the day, but not one of them has made any aiies s what’s gone with the major; and as for John, they don't seem to suspect him to be on the country-side. It's all Hores Shoe Robinson with them. They say that none but he rould have helped to get the major away, and that General Sumpter was the instigator. We. I’m sure they were welcome to that opinion, for it set them all to looking over towards Broad river, which is as good a direct ion as we could wish them to travel.” “The less you seem to know about it. with any of these inquiring par ties, the better, Mistress Ramsay,” said Allen Musgrove, “and I would advise you, even here amongst our selves, to speak lower. David, what do you hear this evening?” “Nothing concerning our runaways since they left us at daylight this morning." replied Ramsay. “I should guess them to be somewhere near upon Fair Forest by this time. You i now Williams is outlying upon the upper branches of the river? It is more like hunted deer, Allen, than Christian men, that our poor fellows take to the woods now. God knows what will come of It!” “He knows and has appointed it,” said Musgrove, gravely, “and will in His purpose, give the victory to them that have the right. Man, woman, and child may perish, and horse and Some may be burnt over our heads, and the blood of brave men may make the dust of the road red; yes, and the pastures rich as if new laid with manure; but the will of God rfhall be done and His providence be accomplished. The cause of the just shall prevail against the unjust.” “There were no soldiers,’’ inquired Mary, addressing David Ramsay, that you have beard of, who follow- say, “this is no time to hold back from our duty. Andrew, listen to me; remember your brother has met hlg death fighting against these mons-1 ters, who hate the very earth that nurses liberty. You are young, boy, but you can handle a musket; we will not forget your brother's death.” i “Nor the burning of a good house over your head, and a full barn, father; nor the frights they have given my poor mother.” “Nor, the thousands of brave men,” added the father, “who have poured out their blood to give us a land and laws of our own. My boy, we will remember these, for vengence." “Not for vengence.” said Allen Musgrove; “for justice, David. Your, enemy should be remembered only 1 to prevent him from doing michief. The Lord will give him sword and i buckle, spear and shield, who stands ii” for the true cause; and when it pleases Him to require the sacrifice of life from the faithful servant who fights the battle, he grants patience and courage to meet the trial. Your son was not the man, David, to turn his face away from the work that | was before him; may God receive | him and comfort his distressed | family! He was an honest and brave! son. David Ramsay.” “A braver soldier never buckltsd on broadsword. Allen Musgrove,” re plied the father. “Yes, I looked for this; ever since my dwelling was levelled to the ground by these fire brands, I looked for it. John’s pas sion was up then, and 1 knew the thoughts that ran through his mind. Ever since that day his feelings have been most bitter; and he has flung himself amonst the Tories, making as little account of them as the mower when he puts his scythe into ] the grass of the meadows.” “God forgive him, David!” said Musgrove, “and strengthen you and the boy’s good mother in this sharp hour of trial. They who draw the sword in passion may stand in fear of the judgment of the sword: it is a fearful thing for sinful man to shed blood for any end but that of lawful war, and at the bidding of his coun try. God alone is the avenger.” Mary had again raised from the —H. S. R. THREE bed. and at this moment gave vent to her feelings in a loud and bitter lamentation. “John Ramsay is dead, is dead!” she exclaimed. “I cannot believe It. He that was so trie and so warm-hearted, and that evrrybody loved! They could not kill him! Oh, 1 begged him to keep his foot from danger, and he promised me, for my sake, to be careful. I loved him. father; I never told you so much before, but I am not ashamed to tell it now before everybody; I loved him better than all the world. And we had promised each other. It is so hard to lose them that we love!” she continued, sobbing violently. “He was so brave and so good, and he was so handsome, Mrs. Ramsay, and so dutiful to you and them that he cared for. He was so thoughtful for your comfort too,” she added, as she threw herself on her knees and rested her head on the lap of the mother, and there paused through a | long interval, during which nothing was heard but her own moans mingl ed with the sighs of the party, “we were to be married after this war was at an end, and thought we should live so happily; but they have mur dered him! Oh they have murder ed him,” and with her hair thrown in disorder ove r he r face, she again gave vent to a flood of tears. “Mary, daughter! Shame on you, girl!” said her father. “Do you for get, in the hour of your affliction, that you have a friend who is able to comfort? There is one who can heal up your sorrows and speab peace to your troubled spirit, if you be not too proud to ask it. I have taught you, daughter, in all time of tribulation to look to Him for patience and for strength to bear adversity. W*hy do you neglect this refuge now?” “Our Father,” said the maiden, fer vently clasping her hands and lifting up her eyes, now dim with weeping, Trouble and Never Suspect it. Preval^rivy <>f Most people <1'< iv't reali/e tbe alarm ing increase (Pi ll and remark ii n: prevalency <'1 t dm vdi -e.r-e, \\ liiiekidney o:s- recover himself, turned to Drum mond, making a sign to him to tell the object of tbeir melancholy er rand. and then flung himself into a chair. “John Ramsay is dead,” said the woodman, in a mournful tone. “Your son. Mistress Ramsay, was shot in a fray with the bloody, villanous Tor ies. The heartiest curses upon them!” “Killed, dear madam,” said Butler, scarce able to articulate, “killed i n . . my defense. Would to God the blow a g s h e appealed to God in praver, had fallen upon my own head!” (“who art in heaven—teach us all to “Ob. no, no. no!” exclaimed the matron, as a flood of tears rolled i down her cheeks, and she gave signs j (Continued on page six.) of animation. At length, being laid ______________________ upon the bed, a deep groan escaped j her, which was followed by the most, , „ , piteous wailing. [tUHlSSOdS ll3Y8 KiOflBjf The scene wrought upon the young-! er members of the family, who, as | well as the domestics, were heard | pouring forth deep and loud lamen tations. accompanied with reiterated announcements of the death of the oldier. When this first burst of the general grief was over, David Ramsay arose from big seat and walked across the room to a window, where he stood endeavoring to compose and master his feelings. At length, lacing But ler. he said in a low and tranquil tone, “John Ramsay, my son. killed, killed in a skirmish? God is my wit ness, I expected it! It was his fail ing to follow his enemy with too hot a hand; and I am to blame, perhaps, that I never checked him in that tem per. But he died like a man and a soldier. Major Butler.” he added, firmly. “He died in my arms.'' replied But ler. “as bravely as ever soldier clos ed his life, his last thoughts were upon his parents and— “Dead!” interrupted Ramsay, as if communing with himself, and regard less of Butler's words—'“Dead! He fell doing his duty to his country, that’s a consolation. A man cannot die better. If it please God. I hope my end my be like his. Andrew, my boy, come here. You are now my oldest living son " he said, taking the lad’s hand and looking him full in the face, as he spoke with a bit ter compression of his lips; “I am willing, much as 1 love you that the country should have you." “No, David, David." interrupted the almost tie l.'. t recognized 1 y patient and phy sicians, V'/iO r< :i- tent tlu utHclres tnrii f ! the fff'etit, while the* ori<j- ' <6 undermines the system. What To Do. 11 ere is co nn'or * iu th e know Iclge fo ,r* .. i t-Npre ssc-V that Dr. Kilmer's , the great khlney remedy, ., every wish in curing rhci mnatism, .:i the b :ick, 1 td dney s, liver. , bladder ry j irt of tue urinary passage. t * • orrects innb ili’.y *-► c d water :pI : - ai'ling pain in pa SSMIg It , or bad i ^‘following use of liquor, wine or 'o -jr. and overcomes that unpleasant ne- of being compelled to go often • ring the clay, and to get up many times during the night. The mild and tiie extraordinary effect of Swamp-Root ; v,(.n realized. It stands the highest for its wonderful cures of the most dis* tr ■-rung cases. If you need a medicine ' on should have the best. Sold by drug gists in fifty-cent and one-dollar sizes. You may have a sample bottle and a book that tells all about it, b< th sent free ■ hr ma;l. A<i iressl)r.[ Kilmer & Co., Bing- hamton, N. Y. When Home<* Bwunp-Root. mother, rousing herself from her writing mention this paper and don’t silent grief, “wo have given enough; make any mistake, but remember the no other child of mine shall venture name, Dr. Kilmer’s Swamp-Root, and in the war. John! John! my dear the address, Binghamton, N. Y. boy, by brave son; How good and Don’t any UMiftli. bmt f» kind he wa s to us all! And how glad member the name, Swamp-Root. Dr he was to get home to see us; and Kilmer’s Swamp-Root, and tbe ad how much we made of him!" dress, Binghamnton. N Y. on “ver* "‘Silence, wife,” said David Ram-. bottle. -IK- NEW POSTOFFICE BELOW Shawls, Baby Hoods, Scarfs, Fascinators, etc., to be sold at cost. Come in and pre pare for the cold weather before our stock is exhausted. Shawls We are offering our large line of Suits and Overcoats at 25 per cent, off regular price. If you are needing a nice Suit for yourself or your boy, come to the store where your DOLLAR buys you MORE. Clothing sortment of Woolen, red, white and brown Children Mittens and Gloves can’t be ex celled. Our Buckskin Gloves are fine and water- Gloves Ladies’ Coats. « We also have a nice line of Ladies’ Coats and Cloaks, big bargains at 25 per cent. off. These are prices not to be found often. Come in and get yours before they are pick ed over. Shirts. Our stock of Shirts consist of all colors including the famous blue Negligee work. Shirts at ALL PRICES. Our FLANNEL work Shirt is a winner. Dress Goods. We have a nice assortment of Checks, Suitings, Woolen Good 1 *, etc., that you will be interested in. Shoes. “Never-Wear-Out” Shoes for Men are a little higher than “Shoddy, No-Good” footwear be cause they are leather throughout, both inner and outer sole, from heel to toe. Come in and let us shoe the whole family, wife, daughter, sister, sweetheart and all in the “onca a year line” at prices’to suit. Groceries We carryjan assortment of Staple and Fancy Groceries, consist- ; ing of “TELLICO” Flour, pure “hog fat” Lard, country ground Meal, country cured Hams, Rice, Grits, Cream Cheese, French Opera and other good roasted Coffees. Dessert and Pie Peaches and a nice line of Can Goods. Malaga Grapes, 15c pound. Oranges, Rasins and Apples in {proportion. Ring Phone 219 Prompt Delivery 4