The national era. [volume], August 22, 1850, Image 1

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? THE NATIONAL ERA.^V ;;
' ' (J. BAILEY, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR; JOHN G. W H IT TIE R, C 0 R R E S P ON DI N fl EDITOR. |r
"wL IV.?NO. 34 WASHINGTON, THURSDAY, AUGUST 22, 1850.1 WHOLE NO. 1.00.
-
fkr smlanal Era la PallUkd Weakly, ftevaatb
lirwt, MHilto OM FrlUvi' Hall.
TBUtt.
I'wo d >llara par annum, payable in advanet.
Advertmemento not exoaeding tan linaa inaartad
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All ooramaoioatioaa to the Ent, whether on
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KtlKLL * B LAN CHAR D, MtlNTKKB,
Sixth vtraft, doors sooth of Psanrylranis avsaa*.
THE NATIONAL ERA.
rrr?==r=f=^=5? I
Vv /tdftitvty* *?. , ne
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r?r tea national are.
SKETCHES OF OUR VILLAGE.
No. 4.
THfc MlIXKB.?CHAPTER IV.
" Lh it b* ?? The b&rbtroa* SejrthUn,
Or S? J >*? wkn hie lueiMM ?<??'
To fort* hts sppstlls, ska# to mf boe.no
Me 11 well neighbor'J, pitied, and rrliete.1,
At thou."
Six years passed, eager, anxious,hustling years,
witb Miller Jed, during which he bad, spidsr- J
like, put forth many a cunningly-laid thread
ground the feet of needy debtors, which would
eventually dtaw them within his clutchee ; then,
the simpletons, if they mads any outcry, Isaac
would he readj to deal with them. In company
with snch thoughts as these, the old miser's heart
oeemed growing hard as his nether millstone.
With the family at the Hollow, these years hsd
gone by "as still as stars." The tall figure of
the old soldier was still nnbent, though he leaned
rftenar than of yore on his silver-headed cane,
the gift of a brother officer, as he passed along on
his way to meeting on a sunny oanoain. st iew
white hairs gleamed upon the widest* temples,
while Mercy had shot up, tall and graceful as a
green willow.
They had oounted time only by Isaac's vacations
; for then the Hollow regained the old golden
gflow of sunshine, some of which, it seemed,
he took with him at his departure. His vacations
were mostly spent there, for his own home seemed
cheerless and uncomfortable. Even Widow Barker's
kind, old, wrinkled face failed to meet
him at last, for her increasing infirmities had
compelled her to give up her trust, and her
place was occupied by a stranger. Though his
father felt a kind of pride in him, and did not
fail to manifest toward him that kind of respect
which ignorance not unfrequently pays to talent,
especially talent whio\can command money, not
a single day passed in which the son did not feel,
with a bitterness whioh made him sick at heart,
the meanness and selfishness of his father's character.
Every visit home deepened this feeling,
and served to oonvinoe him that he never oould
consent to become the mean, pettifogging character
for which his father designed him. Even the
profession itself began to grow repulsive to him ;
and restless, dissatisfied, and unhappy, he entered
upon the last half year of his term.
About this time commenced that seemingly new
movement in the life of the churohes of New
England, known under the name of "revivals of
religion." The movement soon reached L ,
and Isaac and his fellow-students were numbered
among the oonverts.
Then, how different seemed life, with all its
j ?-> -???-i.:? !.?? -i?n.( lewi. a
fUQlHAlia enu, uircicniu^ mvu umninj . * uta n?ther's
life and opinions looked poor and contemptible
to him before, what were they now, in the light
of his newly awakened feelings 7 Hew willingly
would he hare laid down his life to hare made
his father conscious of its wickedness He felt
that he must see it, he could not fail to do so,
God's law was so plain. He would strive with
him as never yet child strove with a father, and
then, c.isting aside all worldly ambition, joyfully
go forth as a missionary, to speak the words of
life unto the suffering millions of earth.
Thus, in words steeped in the glowing enthusiasm
of his own heart, he wrote to his father
and the family at the Hollow; for, though the
close of his term was near at hand, his ardor
could brook no delay.
The Wards received the tidings with unfeigned
pleasure. The/ felt that his talents were
much better adapted to the pulpit than the bar,
and they rejoiced in the consciousness that their
teachings and influence had not been in vain. It
was not so with Miller Jed. Not until he had
read the letter over three times, and carefully examined
the hand writing, would he believe that
he was not the object of some hoax. That Isaac
should really think of opposing his will, he ooald
not comprehend.
"Fool!" he muttered, contemptuously, "does
he think i am going to throw away so much money
on a poor canting priest ? Aye, I see it all now,'
he continued, suddenly turning pale with rage
"this is old Ward's scheming. He thinks to
marry his grandchild to this whining fool, and
so regain his estate. I'll see the devil have them
all first, the poverty-stricken old rascal. He
called me cheat once ; we'll see who will cheat or
be cheated,now. I'll fix matters for them !" and
shutting the *ater-gate with a violenoe that
brought the great wheel to a sudden stand, and
threw the glittering water in miniature cascades
from every black rib of its skeleton frame, he settled
his white hat more firmly on his powdered
head. and sped like a great gray moth, through
the shadowy forest, toward Ward's Hollow.
Hal the prinoe of darkness himself suddenly
appeared on the threshold of that old farm-house,
his appe?rance would hardly have been greeted
with more surprise. The old soldier arose, as did
also the mother and daughter, and stood silent from
astonishment. But they did not wait long, for
the old Miller, without waiting for ceremony, begin
to pour forth auoh a torrent of sarcastic inventive
and bitter vituperation, as those old walls
had never heard before. When he mentioned the
name of Meroy, in oonnection with their designs
on his son, the hitherto flushed cheek of the girl
grew pale as death, and she clung to her mother
tor support Not no with the old soldier ; ell the
spirit of " seventy-six" seemed swelling in his
*eins, m with compressed lips he listened to the
old miser's tirade. When the Miller was fairly
"ut of hreath, he drew up his tall, stately form to
its full height, and said, in a roioe which rang
* ith the strength and clearness of youth :
" \re you mad, old man1 seek to wed one of
" v r*c? with a Sewall! Do you know of whom
Jon speak?or what you say ? Begone," he ad'i?i
with a commanding gesture towards the door,
hegone, I eay, nnd pollute neither my houee nor
?y 'ght any longer!"
Thsr* waa something in the mien and tone of
hat old soldier, before which the hreten spirit of
Miller J?d quailed. Thus it had teer been In
*" their intercourse ; he ooald not help feeling it,
*od he hated him as much the mora. He withdrew
as suddenly nnd ns silently ss he hsd entered,
and until his dosty figure was quite hidden
behind the hills, not n word wss spoken by the ionates
of the old farm-house. Then the old man
aid, thoughtfully:
My children, Isaac Sewall most come here no
nore | said M good woo Id come of it, at first,
?d it saems I was right. Pardon me, Jane," he
< <Jti inusd ; -1 asa ever hasty. Good has some of
" lease will ha a hatter, wiser, truer man, for
'h* teachings he has received from yon, sad God
Pls*saJ that It isao, still, wsmnst make up our
minds to mo kin do nor*. It vill be o Had trial
to him and to ua, for somehow the boy has become
eery a oar to no, bat better bear this, thau the
slightest sntpicion of scheming for the rod' of
whioh that old man spoke.
As usual, they questioned not his wisdom , nee*
ertheleae, the heart of Jane Ward yearned after
the child of her adoption, and Mercy sorrowed
bitterly but silently, at ins thought of meeting
bin no mora. About a week after his father's
visit to the Hollow, Isaac, with a heart teeming
with hope and faith, came np the green lane, paused
s few momenta en the flat stone by the bars,
where he had first met with Mercy, then passed
on to his father's house Miller Jed, save when
under the influence of some ungovernable burst
ef anger, was s msn ef few words. He had decided
to waste no breath upon his son's whims, for
/. tWCL ho
had not the slightest doubt. Therefore, be greetlivw
'? h?ia/ MOV i?
dogged silence while laaac spoke humbly, but eloHMWd.IV,
wf the change in hie view*, mud hie
hopes ami wishes of the future, and, at hie usual
early hour, retired to hie bed without a word of
comment. The young man found hope in hie
alienee, and fervently thanked Ood for disposing
hie father's heart to listen favorably to his request
Tb^jiex' morning. Instead of going to the mill
aa usuc, th#obl man was busy tot some time in
hie own room. Presently he oalled for Isaac to Join
him, and laving before him upon the table a
great, black leathern pocket-hook, stuffed to bursting
with papers of all hues, bade him see whether
his "school larnin" could tell how much those
papers were worth. The spider-like old Miller
Heated himself at one end of the table, and kept
his glittering eyes steadily on his prey, while
Isaac, pencil in hand, examined the different notes
and mortgages, and made an estimate of their
amount.
M Four thousand seven hundred and sixty dollars,''
he said at length, running his pencil again
up the column of figures, to see that they were
correct.
" Right, four thousand seven hundred and sixty
dollars," repeated the old spider, "and this year's
interest will make it a trifle over five thousand.
A pretty nest-egg that, Isaac; wonder if any
minister pan show ?s rood a one." he added. with
a wily glance at his son, as with his crooked Angers
he tenderly replaced the papers in the queer,
old receptacle.
44 Perhaps not," was the reply ; u they are men
who lire with a higher aim than to lay up treasure
on earth. Theirs is, 1 trust, in Heaven "
44 Aye, I, for one, am pretty sure it aint Acre,"
chuckled the old man : 44 but. come, b y,' I want
you to go up the hill with me"
Carefully placing the old pocket-book in the
breast pocket of his coat, he led the way through
the dewy fields in silence. When they reached the
highest point of the ridge that overlooked Ward's
Hollow, for the first time the old man paused It i
was a beautiful scene that lay before them. On
the east, stretched out the deep, green woods, along
the farther edge of which crept the winding mill
atream, until, meeting the resistance of the heavy
dam, its waters recoiled upon themselves, and lay
spread out in motionless silence, like a young
heart when it first finds its love and trust dishonored.
On the west, lay the green Hollow, over
whose rich mid-suuimer beauty streamed those
pensive gleams of golden light, the first faint
prophecy of autumn. Isaac gaied abroad with a
full heart. Like that heart, nature seemed overflowing
with love. A benediction seemed to
breathe forth from everything, and heblessed God
for life?aye, even for breath. He thought of
Mercy, of his silent but ever-deepening love for
her?of the time when he might fold her to bis
heart as the crown of all blessings; then a rude
hand wss laid upon his shoulder, and his father's
shrill tones fell upon his ears.
44 It is a goodly bit, boy. From the Red hills
yonder to the river, and from the road clean away
up to Monroe's Notch, It is mine; secured by
good warrantee deeds upon record. Aye, you may
well stare," he oontinued, seeing Isaac's vacant
look; 44 it's not many men that can show a farm
like that, worth good five thousand dollars to-day,
to III ntUai tl tk* ?uU. wSUt U !o. ou mm
average, two hundred * year more, if took along
head to get all this property, Isaac. it will take quite
as long an ene to kttv it. I have spent e'en-a-most a
thousand dollars?e'en-a-moat a thousand, to teach
you how to keep it. and to add now and then a penny"
to it; for who knows how much more I might
not have got, if I had only known enough about
the points of the law. You do know enough, and
it shall all be yours, only, mark me, boy, I must
have no more nonsense about priests; yon must be
a lawyer?a rich lawyer, Isaac, and nothing else"
" I know how much you have done for me.
father. Believe me, I sm not ungrateful, but do
not drive me into a profession in which I know 1
shall never succeed. I don't care for money, only
let me follow the way which my concience and"?
" Don't o*T*for money!" screamed the old Miller,
aghast. " A re you mad, or a fool, or both ? How
often have I told you that a man could succeed in
anything, if he only had money enough ?
"Father! father!" exclaimed the young man,
much agitated, " would that I could persuade you
that there is something better, higher, worthier
of a life's devotion, than money. It Is God's love?
his peace. Has not Christ himself said, " What
shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole
world, and lose his own soul 7'
"Don't talk to me about souls," angrily exclaimed
the father. " These, I see and know," he
continued, pointing over the rich fields he called
his own, " and these," he added, striking his hand
upon bis breast where lay the swollen pocket-book;
"but of souls, you nor I know nothing. And,
now," he went on, seeing Isaac about to speAk, "I
can't stand parleying here Once, for all, are you
going to obey me? Will you be a lawyer or
not 7"
The young man moved baok and forth hurriedly
for a few moments, then, with one glance at
the lovely landscape and the blue heavens, he
fronted his father, and said, sadly but firmly :
" Had you left it to me, father, or even consulted
me, I should never have ohosen the profession
of law. Not that it is not honorable and
great?even sublime in its principles and aims,
but our views of it are widely different. Were
1 to follow it, you would he sadly disappointed,
for never would I consent to advocate a cause I
knew to be wrong; never would I stoop to become
the instrument of oppression and injustice. When
i thinV kn* nf these verv lands have been
won, I oannot, dare not, obey you "
u Damnation ! ''exclaimed the father, trembling
with disappointment and anger. "Then not a
cent shall you hare of mine, to nave you from the
poor-houae. Oo, and my ourae go with you I"
he added, aa he sprang hastily down the hill
side.
laaao sank down upon a shelving rock, and,
covering his eyes with his hands, as if that beautiful
scene had suddenly become painful to him,
strove to oolleot his troubled thoughts. It was a
fearful moment. All his past life, all his future
* - ?- ?i i 1J i_
hopee, seemed pressed idvj h, anu n<- wuiu vmj
bow bis head, and, in the anguish of his spirit,
I cry, "Our Father!" As if in answer to that
prayer, a calm*r mood came to blees him. He
carefully scrutinised all the circumstances of his
short life, and the motives that had led him to renounce
a course which he felt could only be to
him a death-in-life. Then oame the memory of
his old nurse's lengends of the early martyrs, and
his imagination kindled "fie that loveth father
or mother more than me, is not worthy of me,"
he murmured, as he aroee and slowly took the
way toward the old farm-house in the Hollow.
Just as he entered a thicket of yonng birch, at
the foot of the hill, he met a boy with a fishingrod
over his shoulder, who placed in his hands s
letter, saying, old Captain Ward Kad given him
| some peonies to carry it to ths mill. Isaac knew
the old man's habits; something unusual must
have ooourred to rouse him to the effort of writing
a letter, and, with a foreboding of sorrow,
he broke the seal. It needed little skill to decipher
thoee round, regular charactrrs. There
they stood, plsin as ths green earth beneath him,
saying, in kiad but firm words, that he must viait
the Hollow no more.
"Cursed by him, and through him I" murmured
the young man, as, in the utter loneliness
of his heart, ha sank upon ths hsif-deoayed trunk
f a fallen tree. No one knows, no one ever can
know, the bitterneea, doubt, agony, and despair, of
the suooeedlng hours of that glorious midsummer
day.
( HArrKR v.
" krss ehtob tba aouM nut aehoul,
By vav?W<? |rtiH an raiaad ,
And lip* tay, <?od be ptttfui '
Whoaa'at aaid, ' tiod ba leeiaed.'"
One, two, three, four, fea, six weeks?they occupy
but a little space on our paper, yet they
crawled over the Hollow like so away weary
years They bcoight sorrow and grief to ths
simple, affectionate hearts those, end, were wa
writing n mere lave stery, we might toll how ths
heart of Mercy sank beneath the first taste of
lift's bitter ehalice.
Six week* t and how puwd they at the mill 1
We only koow that the great mill wheel dashed
round and round as of yore, the waters moaned
and sobbed, while Miller Jed continued to scrape
up the soft meal with hie bent fingers, as he occasionally
said to himself. "An obstinate dog; but
he'll oome round yet. Poverty is a rare tamer"
Then, a man on horseback paused in the whitened
atmosphere at the arili door, and delivered
him a letter.
" I was going on to M?, and promised our
Minister that 1 would oome this way and deliver
that letter," he said. "It's sorry news, 1 reckon,
an yon be his fkther f and with a whistle to his
horse, he oantered across the bridge and up the i
bill.
Miller Jed started at his words, snd stood for
some time turning the latter over and over, as if
he already ij^rf^ended He ^?. 4
denly breaking the M*l, he took theiu in at a
" Fever?come to him?die?death," he murmured,
as the paper shook io his trembling hands.
u He shall not die!" he exclaimed vehemently,
as he hurriedly stopped the wheel. u He cannot?
so young, and "?he started and looked over his
shoulder in fear. A few drape of w?ter had fall*
en on his hand, and be thought of the oold damp
forehead of his deaJ wifr- an' thai eld terror
seized hfc.. *
He hurried to his horse, and with the meal
sCU^owdering his gray locks, like the ashes of
repentance, mounted his sleek mare, and took the
road towards L .
Weary, faint, and almost despairing, Isaac
Sewall had reached L , he hardly knew hew,
and preeenting himself before Judge G sad
the old Minister, stated all his troubles, and *esought
their advice. "1 am homeless?an outoast
; hut I had rather die, than beoome the mean,
pettifogging character for which my father designs
me," he said, eadly.
The old men were much impreseed by his earnestness.
and through their influence he was
soon engaged as assistant in a large school in that
vicinity, but he had hardly entered upon his new
duties before he was seized with a raging fever.
When Miller Jed reached L , the disease
was near its crisis AH that night the miaerable
old mac \v a -dsrk corner of the
room, sc&roely daring to look upon the face of his
child, listening to his ravings and low moans, with
feelings too fearful for ue to describe. Sometimes
he was with his follow students, but oftener at the
Hollow with Mercy, and, as if a gleam of the
truth still reached his troubled bruin, he would
moan piteously: " Oh, take me home! Let me
we her onoe more! "
It wh never of hie own home, but of the Hollow,
that ho epoke, and ouly once hie fevered lips
murmured the word, "Father." The very tone
vu like a dagger to the old miller's heart. The
next day the criale wu pant, and the physicians
epoke of hope, though the old man acaroely oomprehended
their words, but through the live-long
day sate silent in the Barne place, coating fearful
glances at the pale attenuated figure stretched
out on the bed, so like the one that had once lain
stiff and stark in his own house. When Isaac
was able to look up, his father's presence was
made known to him, and a gleam of pleasure lit
up his pale face, but few words passed between
them, and neither referred to the past. As he
began to gain strength, one yearning desire took
possession of his mind. " Only let me go home,
and I ahall be well," he pleaded, day after day,
until the kind-hearted physician yielded a reluctant
oonsent. An easy carriage was procuq^,
and, bolstered up with beds and pillows, Isaac
bade farewell to his friends, and, at a snail-like
pace, set out for home.
" I much doubt the wisdom of this stop," said
the oil minister, as the carriage disappeared
round the oorner. " It is sixteen miles to R??,
and the poor ohild is very weak."
u So do I," replied the physician, with a sigh,
"yet it can make but a few weeks' difference, at
the worst." Then seeing the minister's inquiring
look, he added, pointing to a golden leaf that
floated slowly toward the ground, "our young
friend's tote is like that. No earthly skill can
-rhB-ngr !* "
When the oarritge reached tad point where
the green lane turned off to the Hollow, Isaac
raised his eyes imploringly to his father's face,
and made a faint gesture, as if J>e would go that
way. Implicitly the old man obeyed, and at a
slow funereal pace they drove on to the old farmhouse.
The sight of the carriage brought the
whole household to the door.
" He nould come," said the old miller, as if in
apology, as they gathered round the carriage.
" Ye*, grandfather, mother, Meroy," said laaec,
faintly, an he stretched oat towards them his thin
hands, "I trould come. You first taught me
how to lite?you must now teach me how to die.
Forgive me, father," he added, laying his hand in
the old miller's, 14 they oao oare for me better here
than at home, and you will oome to see me daily."
The old miller looked anxiously toward Adam
Ward. " If," he Aiurmured, hesitatingly, " money
can repay you, take all I have, only let him stay?
only save him."
"Gladly will we take him for his own sake,"
replied old Adam Ward, as he raised the poor
invalid in his arms, and, assisted by Jane, bore
him into the house
These pensive, golden gleatns, the prophecy of
autumn, that slept upon the hills the last time
that Isaac Sewall's feet had trodden them, bad
deepened into reality, and slowly, as the leaves
changed from green to crimson, and impelled by
their own weight, floated toward earth, so waned
the life of young Isaac Sewall toward the grave.
Loving hands tended him, and loving hearts lavished
their wealth of tenderness upon him, and
he was serene and happy. He knew it was much
better to die thus than to go through life cold,
selfish, and unloving, And he was happy in an- i
other thought; for all those sunny, autumn days
his old father sat by bis side, sometimes sobbing
like a very child, as he spake of death and heaven. 1
listening humbly and earnestly to the sacred
Word, as It fill from the lips of Mercy?words i
which he had heard a thousand tiroes, but never j
ftli before, and, Joining with unfeigned humility .
in the petitions which Adam Ward raised daily
to the Father of All. Yea, Iaaac was happy? 1
only when his eye rested on the tear-dimmed fioe |
of Mercy, end his ear caught the sobs which she
could not wholly repress, was bis heart troubled.
Then he would take her hand, and, drawing her
cheek down to his, mormnr?
"Yes, it was a sweet dream, beloved, but a little
while, only a little while at the longest, and we 1
shall meet again." <
In the mellow light of an October day tbey laid
him in the village graveyard, and turned away
with hearts very sorrowful, but calm The peace- 1
ful quiet of his last moments seemed to have de- I
scended upon them, especially upon the old miller, (
and henceforth to him Death hud pat off his ter- ,
rors. The memory of his ohild seemed to go
ever before him in the way of eternal life. With
a ready hand he strove to repsir the sorrow which
Vi. Mlt.hnMi Karl made in other ilavi
and moat gladly would he have given back to
Adam Ward hi* ancient inheritance. Bat the
independent epirit that marked the old eoldirr'a
youth waa still strong within him. and he dedeolined,
saying,
" Do what you plaaae for my children, but, aa ,
for me, I have about done with the carea of earth."
Therefore, though no deeda witneaeed the transfer
of the estate back to the Warda, the wealth
of the old miller flowed in many an open and aecret
channel around their Uvea?channels opened i
by Death; and for many ycare afterwards the ,
two old men might often be eaen, seated like
brothere, near the open door of the old farm-house,
while the golden sunlight streamed like a ray '
from the oeleatial world upon their whitened
i -i- knn^r,,ii? nt n>.ii.
looks, spMHinpi wruwi./ ?*r , -
and the life beyond.
forth* National Kra
THE CROSS. ,
I'arkaouj* my lot Isms* way,
rkrvnfk lib tkorny |*?ckt,
Without a Itrtnf l?f,
K*?# tk? Lift taint's wrath
Darksoa* and lorn* and dreary
As Kfyptlan nifbt,
Till <M tks waodtrsr wtary,
Hrvk* another light.
New Cms and Crown and gory
Prapkst, Priest, and King?
And Ms atoning Ulory,
And kis afsrisf,
Aannl tks awful ssnlsns*.
Osatur tks dsspnir?
(Mrs Pans* unto rtpsntanes,
And Msrey nnto praysr
P. W. T.
Boose queer ehnp aojm that grain is treated Ilka
infanta ?vkaa tks head broom ee heavy, it la
ciadltd ; aad gsnarally U io well tkratktd u> make 1
it ft for oae 'i
Written for th? Natteeal Era
REDWOOD, THE REGULATOR.
BV C H. WILEY, ESlJ.Or NORTH CAROLINA.
author of "alamance."
CHAPTER I.
North Carolina wu not at first a Royal Prov- ,
inoe, nor wu the State ooloniied or settled by
(hose to whom waa granted the proprietorship.
Accident, chaser, circumstances. peopled this
region ; and aa the original Settlers were led, or
attracted, by different interenta and motives, the i
manners and oharaetera of the new people were ,
much diversified.
A colony of English wsa planted in the north- j
eastern part of tae Start; ana ro ureas, accessions
?n*d? hv cmiwrmnts from New Enaland and i
Virginia. Sir John Yeeraans* ie? a body of ad- |
venturers from Barbadoee to the mouth of the
Cape Fear; and this became the nucleus of planters
and cavaliers ef wealth and distinction
Fro* these eastern sslllMMit*. hunters, fugitires
from justice,. Iguilj gjfrsntnrers. and austere
religionists, would straggle off to the houndlees
woods to the west; and thus there were scattered
over these upper regions oocasional huts peopled
by tenants of widely different manners and
morals.
In after times, a company of Moravians bought
a large tract of land, in what is now the county
of Forsythe ; and their flourishing little towns of
Bethany, Salem, &c., became the centre of civilization
and trade.
As might be supposed, the people of North Carolina
grew up in ignorance of the Mother Country,
of her laws and institutions ; and their own
governors and rulers, chosen by distant courtiers,
who knew little of their wants and interests, were
generally weak, corrupt, and despised These
pat^y tyrants, too, wera often in league with the
pirates and buccaneers that swarmed on the coast
of the Carolina* for many years; and while a
knowledge of this shameful fact added u> >>npopularity
of the Government, it enhanced the
licentiousness of the people, and justified them in
their riots and defiance of authority.
What is, therefore, called the Revolution, began
in North Carolina at least a half & century
before the year 1776 ; and to those familiar with
the early history of this region, the celebrated
Meoklenberg Manifesto seems remarkable only
from the fact that it is the aot of only one county.
Riotous meetings and public declarations of defiance
of the laws were oominon from the earliest
?t cvtao mtiii wkon fk* H-Pca t Trrtllhlwi with lvritif.
land began, there must have been many euch
meetings as that of Meckienberg held in the wild
woods, and never recorded in any of the aewepapers
of the times.
CHAPTKK II.
Just one hundred years before the Declaration
of Amerioan Independence, the inhabitants of
Albemarle in North Carolina rose, as Bancroft
says, " against the pretensions of the proprietariea
and the laws of navigation;" and, continues
the historian alluded to, " the uneducated population
of that day formed conclusions as just us
those whioh, a oentury later, pervaded the country."
The oomtneroe of the country was mostly in
the hands of New England traders, who bought
the produce of the farmers, end brought to their
doors such articles as they wished to purchase in
return , l? tni*cr worfle. ties *?
then, as now,an important character,and familiar
to all the inhabitants of Carolina. One object
of the laws alluded to by Banoroft whs to divert
the trade of the oountry into different channels;
and this attempted restraint upon the free course
of commerce was resisted by the people. The
resistanoe amounted to a revolution; a Governor
was deposed, laws abrogated, and new rulers appointed
and new regulations formed for the public
welfare. In the oourse of time, however, the
republicans were subdued; still disaffection continued
for many years, and the effects of the
"Rebellion" were never entirely obliterated.
Feuds and animosities prevailed for half a oentury,
and in the mean time many of the leaders of
" the Opposition" becoming compromised by their
liberal doctrines, or disgusted with the oourse of
things, plunged into the interminable woods to
the westward, and in the solitude of thoee vsst
forests sought freedom and safety. Some of vhero
... . I.U. .1 _!_ ! Ik. _ 4 ?
HeiUCC] WHO ID IDC UUUJIUBi UVUUUD VI IUC wuui;
of Orange, which wan then as large as the State
of Maryland ; but aa they were scattered sparsely
through the woods, they were hardly recognised
as citizens by the public authorities, end were, in
almost all things, " a law unto themselves" Their
children grew up independent in every respect,
and from their infancy imbibed the most bitter
prejudices against officials of every grade. Offices
and tyranny were with tbem synonymous terms;
and such conclusions, in the then misgoverned
state of things, were not extravagant or absurd
Many of these people were persons of property
and eduoation , and, simple in their habits, stern
in their principles, and devotional in their feelings,
they formed a population as different from
all classes of civilized men in this age as it is
possible to conceive.
CHAPTER 111.
In a thiok forest, not far from Haw river, stands
Flaw Fields Church ; or, as it is generally called,
Haw Fields Meeting-house. It is a venerable
edifice, standing on a site that has been oonsecrated
to religious purposes for more than a hundred
years. It has always belonged to the Presbyterians;
but from the earliest history of the
country, other denominations have been allowed
to worship there, and preachers of other churches,
especially of the Methodist and Baptist, to hold
meetings ami administer the rites and ordinances
of their societies.
Originally the church was a mere frame,
weather-boarded, but not celled, and in fair
weather the congregation sat out of doors, and the
minister held forth from a platform erected ngainst
a gigantic poplar
in the spring of the year 1770, notices were
potted through the neighborhood of the I lew
Fields, stating that on the third Nunday in April
a minister from the np-oountry would preach to
the people, or explain to them certain prophecies
that were then absorbing a good deal of public
attention The propheciee alluded to were the
predictions of a modern divine, concerning the
destruction of a portion of the world ; predictions
that were strongly urged in an eloquent pamphlet,
which declared that on a certain day of the
next year, one-third of the earth would be earried
away by convulsions It was not stated what part
would be thus destroyed, but many believed, and
the uncertainty as to the part to be whelmed in
ruin added to the terrors of the people.
Of coarse, therefore, on the day appointed, an
immense congregation assembled at the Haw
Fields Cknrch ; and early in the day a trumpet
announced to them the hour for worship. When
the company had gathered about the stand, or
palpit, their eurioae eyee were direoted to ite occupant
; and there wee e general surprise at the
appearance and drees of the minister.
His conntenanos had not the ghastly expression
of those who are supposed to hold intercourse
with spirits and phantoms of another world; nor
did he uncouth raiment of a
prophet. f^^Kfsl frame was dad ia a decent
suit of the flHIBhionable end comely M hooMepnn"
of the tiame; and his farewa hair, very
lightly fronted, was carefully oombed and trim
nied, the strange divine not even having a ijueue,
then the universal badge of dignity There wm
that, however, in bia air and carriagt, that, to the
rudeet observer, marked him ae one it the princee
of the earth ; and in his face beaned a majesty
which belongs only to the free.
After a abort and simple prsyif, that added
still more to the astonishment of the audience,
and a hymn, in which few joined, tie minister
rose and said: "'He that ohserveth the winds
shall not sow ; and he that regardeth the clouds,
shall not reap.' My friends, these were the words*
of Solomon, the wisest man that ever lived ; and
they were intended to show the folly of undertaking
to foretell God's future provideno*" With
simple language, hut strong arguments, he endeavored
to convince his audienve that it was
given to no man to know the future, except by
the Tw*??^ he denooppoit ? s?>..
postors those who went about, alarming the peor>ie
with their evil nr?d>/>ti?m t* ??.
xinueo. tney are sometimes worse than madmpn
(Knv ovo ?Ua k-?J
? " ? j ?v ???v. (usiiuuitruio iu ia? uauuo ui
tyrants assuming the most holy functions for the
most diabolical purposes It is their object," he
said," totnrn your attention from the corruptions
and the evil practices of those In power; to cause
yon to wear meekly and patiently the yoke of oppression,
while with fear and trembling J?v are
looking for terrible visitations from on High."
Thus he went on, assuring the people that they
need not fear any judgments from Heaven; and
depicting with real eloquence the wickedness, extortions.
and corruptions of the officers of the
Province. Even the King did not escape with
impunity. The Governor (Tryon) was pictured
by him with a master's power, and. finally, coming
down to the clerk of the county, his eloquence
began to move his hearers, because it was the eloquence
of facts and figures, the narration of acts
with which most of his audience were familiar.
"And then." continued he. startling his congregation,
" there stands the man of whom I
speak, and when I point him out, it is not to subject
his person to violenoe or insult. 1 invite
him to a free discussion; I invite you, Colonel
Edmund Fanning, to come up here beside me,
and answer me if you can."
The person alluded to had started up one of
the middle aisles, but so intent were the congregation,
that they had not observed him All
eyes were now directed on him: and he stood
nith hi* arms folded, and his welt-marked and
aristocratio features Hushed with indignation and
embarrassment,
' Do you know that vain man ?" said he to an
elderly gentleman at his side, without seeming to
pay the slightest regard to the preacher's question.
His friend was ignorant of the stranger's
name; and the question, "Who is he?" began
to be buzzed through the congregation, when the
speaker resumed :
"ooionei r mining, ssua ne, "you win noi,
you cannot, you dare not, meet me on the field of
free discussion ; but willingly, aye, moat anxiously,
do you deaire to confront me in a corrupt
court, before an unprincipled judge. I know you
well. I understand you. sir. You seem bow, all
indifference and contempt; and yet, Rt this very
moment, you are endeavoring to find out my
name, that you may pursue me with the vengeance
of the law. I am responsible, sir, for what 1 say ;
I have no aliases, and my name is Council Redwood."
The whole assemblage, electrified by this announcement,
rose to their feet; and one young
man, in the midst of the general excitement,
ruahed upon the stand and grasped the speaker's
hand.
"Your father and I were intimate, Carey," replied
Redwood, to a remark of his new acquaintance;
"or, rather, I should aay, he was a fsther
to me. My father and he had stood together in
difficulties on Albermarle, many years ?go ; they
fled together, and, though they settled many
miles apart, used regularly to see each other
twice a year. My father died when I was young,
and, following his profession of horse-drover, I
often saw your father, yon being generally off at
school. 1 never saw you but once, and then you
were a boy about ten ; I believe they oallsd you
e.^Uir J UU I
" That is my name," answered the young man ;
" ami now that I have finished my rduoution, I
would he glad to see you at my father's old place
All are dead but myself; but you will find mj
bachelor entertainment not altogether rude. Come
you must go with me immediately ; it will he dan'
gerous to stsy here."
"Why dangerous, young man?" naked Redwood
; " are the people here not my friends ? are
they not the fri- nds of Liberty ?"
" A majority of them may be, hut Colonel Fanning
is here, and he has tools and friends."
"And what brought that man here? How
could he have known of my coming?"
" He did not oome to hear you," sAid Carey;
" the scoundrel has fixed his eyes on a beautiful
lady of this neighborhood," he oontinued, in a
whisper, "and she and her guardian are both infatuated
by him."
While this conversation was going on, the
crowd were gathering together in knots, some
talking violently, tome dispersing, and others eagerly
crowding round the pulpit. To a great
number of Iheae latter, Redwood was introduced,
and to them he formally and publicly announced
his determination to speak there again on the
following Saturday.
CHAPTER IV.
A heavy two-horse coach, oonsldered, in that
Jay, a very splendid one, divided with Council
Redwood the attention of tbe people at llaw
Field* Church.
The latter, and the owner of the former, were
equally notorious ; tbe one ue a great leader of
opposition to the Government, the other aaa corrupt
and haughty officer; and now that both were
present, the public curiosity waa unbounded.
The clerk of Orange waa unusually polite and
affable, bowing kindly to all who paaied him ; but
without appearing to be at all uneasy or intimidated,
he aoou left the ground, currying with him
in bia carriage a plain old gentleman of tbe neighborhood,
and his niece and ward Abraham
White was one of the fathera of the settlement,
a reepectable but poor planter; he was a timid
old man, fond of show, and immensely tickled by
the attentions of Faoning to himself and Miss
Mary White, bia niece.
This latter, Jnst then budding into womanhood,
waa fairer eveu than the oomelieat btauties of the
Haw Kielda; was a meek and playfal child of
nature, with soft brown eyes, in wboee orb# lay a
shadow
" I.Ike th? d'.'ik In tvenlng ukUs."
She had been carefully raised and educated by
ber uncle, her parents dying when she wse a
child; but old White, unlike bia neighbors generally,
was fond of the society of the town of
Hillsborough, and endeavored to model hia niece
after the gay belles of that ancient borough. Indeed
she had spent much of her time in that
place; and though the traditions of the neighborhood
represent her aa basing been much beloved
at home, she seems to have bed Utile relish
for the rurs! sports and spiritual txercleea of the
country. Hhe noon attrsoted the attention of
Fanning , itntl hie marked reepeotfor the White*
made it fashionable for the sentry of Hillsborough
to treat with kind regard these posr and obeoure
people. A oloee and pained observer of thie
course of things was Ambrose Carey ; and when
at his house with his new guest whenever the
conversation turned on Fanning, he was sure to
make some allusion to tho Whites. Council Redwood,
a keen observer, soon divined the most
acred wishes of bis young friend's heart; and
managed in the course of the evening, to obtain
from him a fall confession.
They hud been children together; and from an
early period the beauty and confiding simplicity
of " the Lily of Maw Fields," had Won the manly
heart of Carey. He was much above her in rank
and wealth ; and at the time now alhided to was,
in education and position, one of the leading
men of Orange, though still very young. Mere
rank and wealth, however, bed no charms for
him; and though eduoated abroad, Mary Whits
was still the magnet of his soul. His generous
imsgnation had invested her With every
grace and every virtue; and thomb he had
never made any formal proposals, he bad until
recently considered himself as the object
of affection as pure and devoted u his own.
Sensitive and jealous as a true lover, he thought
he eew in Fanning a splendid end unprincipled
rival; and with a real lover's infatuation had so
managed the metier a# to be himself thsua willing
source of reports not ereditsbis J* Mary's
prudence. He had, too, shown to wortHId worts
ad van tags io her society: had quarrelled with
her, opposed her opialone, and disobliged bar in
many particulars
Redwood, to satisfy himself of tho prudence of
bis friend's passion, resolved to visit tas Whites,
aad without tolling Carey his otyeot, he departed
on his Journey The letter wished to go with
hiss, but Redwood preferred Is go eleas.
CHAPTKK V.
" I have news fur you," said Redwood, on his
return to Carry>, " important new, and I wish
yoa to ponder well what 1 say."
"And I," replied Carey, "have important information
for you; but do you speak first, fur.
as you know, losers are impatient."
" I>o you believe me to be your friend V
asked Redwood, seriously.
"Certainly I do."
" Do you believe that I am a man of honor and
truth ; that I would faithfully serve your father a
son 7"
" I sincerely believe it," said Carey?" but
why are you so solemo ?"
" Carey," said Redwood, "you have fallen down
to worship an unworthy idol! Ke still; a silly
girl has enslaved a great and mighty soul 1 Be
. v^une man ! She i? a
I ture, with a heart that is tender and a mind that (
I is nure. but utterlv incauadda of aLroor exmii.ma i
I i wur imagination nas aecriveo you; me girt you |
I Inva iai u 11ruvnl Knw tKn oeoution r^t vamw www i
-"> ? ?~8V.?v, V.W..1VU VI /?? V??
rous fancy. Ambrose, you are just at that age
when imagination is strongest, and the heart lull of
yearning; and objects on which the light of your
imagination tails assume the color ef your own
soul This color is but the gilding of your own
tW?wgl?4?{ and it ia mohtnekoly to itnok it ahould
be lent to auch unworthy objects. Now, thare ia
sn object worthy of all your fondest affections?
an object whose beauties the poet cannot embellish
or increase, and whose grandeur excels the
most wonderful creations of fancy."
" You hare put a nightmare on my heart," said
Carey, 44 and perhaps now you wish to lift It off.
Alas! if Mary White is what you represent her,
then is all beauty but a phantom, all virtue loathsome
vice, all the seeming fair things of earth but
hollow mockeries ! Hare the gods thus sported
with us? Are all the high hopes of the soul but
a sickly dream? If so, then let me die at once."
"My friend," answered Redwood, " when a
generous man is deceived in one object of his regard,
he doubts everything; and it pains me to
witnees this first fearful struggle in your heart
You S|>eak of the gods; there are no gods but One,
and whenever you lose the anchorage of faith in
Him, you will be lost indeed ! <
| u Look out on the heavens, which are now so
| beautiful! Did you see that shooting meteor? I
i Rut ajninute ago it was, to all appearance, a star, <
looking as fair and brilliant as the others, and
ye^t was but an exhalation. And think you, hecause
many of those bright orbs above us are but
burning gas. or noxious vapors, that there are no
stars ? But time tlies, and 1 must finish my news
On next Saturday, Mary White is to go to Hillsborough,
to spend several weeks at Fanning1 s."
"Then she is lost!" cried Carey, rising in
great agitation. 44 She is lost, and 1 am forever
.....Inn. I I. ..,..,1 it :t -k.ll V.~ I
Oh ! that it was morning!''
" I agree with you," interrupted Reilwood,
"that ahe must be stopped, if possible. Although
not worthy of your adoration, she is worthy of
being saved from ruin; and, young man, she is
nearer to me than you think. That girl is the
first cousin of my poor wife, who is gone to a
better world ; and she must be saved ! But tell
me, what have you heard ?"
" The sheriff was here to-day; he incidentally
mentioned your name; and I have no doubt in the
world but he has a process against you."
" 1 suspected as much," said Redwood ; "but he
must not find me, for I have now much great work
on hand."
Early next day, Ambrose Carey rode over to
White's, and came home, leaving Mary in a pet:
she even went so far as to call him a bear. The
crisis, however, was too important to permit him
to take serious offence at her whims, and so he
sat down and wrote her a very long latter, declaring
himself no longer a suitor, bnt a friend;
and in thj most delicate manner hinting at her
position, and the reports then in circulation. He
declared his belief in her perfeot innooence ; but
reminded her of the necessity, in females, of
keeping down the slightest suspicions, and warning
her of the blasting effect to the reputation of
others, of an Intimacy with Fanning. In conc'uo\wu,
k? g?nMs ?Inr If me" wtx>]d hut f'irbaar
visit to Vflttsborlugh, never a^ain to swuoy her
or visit her, and to nerve her in any other way
she might desire.
, The messenger brought hack a note from Mary,
tbanking Mr. Carey for his magnanimity and
generosity, and expressing regret at hia resolution
not to see her again. She, however, declared
that she might be able to survive his determine,
tion not to address her, and oonoludtul with a
gentle admonition to Mr. Carey to take oaro of
. his own reputation, while traitort were his guests.
The very next day, l'anning's carriage carried
Mary White to Hillsborough ; and it was at once
ooncluded by Redwood and Carey, that spies had
notified the clerk of their movements.
CHAPTKK VI.
At this time the whole country was in a ferment.
Opposition to the Government had assumed
an organized form; and the multiplied memorials
of the people oonoerning the extortions of
offioers having been treated with neglect by Governor
Lyon, bold leadera began openly to preach
rebellion. Among the most noted of these were
Herman Husband, formerly of Pennsylvania,
Rednap Howe), William and Jsmea Hunter, and
Thomas Person; less known to subsequent his
iory, nut pernaps more rtricieni man any in hta
day, wag Council Redwood.
Husband and liowel aspired to the honors of
authorship?the former in proee, the latter in
poetry ; and others following their example, the
oountry was flooded with songs, lampoons, and 1
inflammatory pamphlets. This new branch of
" the Nona of Liberty-'styled themselves " R>n>i- 1
la/on;" and their influence and organisation
reached almost every part of the State. Many of
the leaders, however, limited discretion; and to
lhe great mortification of wiser men, matters were
hurrying to a premature crisis. The collection
of taxes was sometimes roalsted ; sheriffs and constables
were beaten, and riots were daily occurring
In nenrly all the counties.
The Government, feeble and remote, was utterly
ignorant of the dangers impending, and to
the very lost entertained erroneous notione concerning
the numbers uud determination of the
Regulators.
Nuch was the state of things at the time Council
Redwood was the guest of Ambrose Carey;
and at such a time such persona were object* of
scrutiny. Fanning, the clerk of the county of
Orange, entertained, like the Governor, a contemptuous
opinion of the Regulators ; and, by his
legal fees, and the extortions which fanned the
flames of rebellion, was able to live in a state almost
eijiial to that of the Governors of other
Provinces. He, however, knew Ambrose Carey
to be a gentleman of education, property, and
character ; and he was also well acquainted with
the reputation of Council Redwood. Before he
knew him ae a Regulator, he bad often heard of
him as an honest and shrewd horse-dealer, and
man of the cooleat courage. Report, too, represented
him to be a mysterious sort of person, conversant
with occult ecienoee, and able to perform
strange actions; and as he did not aeek notoriety,
and never ueed his power to advance hia own intercuts
or injure his enemies, he was rather more
beloved than feartd. Kven among those to whom
he was personally unknown, he was held in high
esteem ; and among his personal and Intimate associates,
his influenoo was unbounded The
Clerk of Grange was not a believer in witohoftfl;
and he concluded that Redwood was a man of
parts, while be had every reason to know that his
courage and energy were beyond dispute. Hence
Fanning rejoioed at an opportunity of reaching,
with the long arm of tbo Law, the " Wixard of
the Pilot," the popular designation of Redwood ;
and while he and Carey were discussing methods
for the rescue of Mary White, the Sheriff of
Orange, with two deputies, rode up to the house, i
What was to be done 7
it a i) ..la II k . : i - HI i
fain make an effort to nit Mary White, but I
have a greater oauae to aerve. Both will be io
jeopardy if I am taken, if I aaoape, while one
will be la no worae condition, the other will be
bettered. There la no time to be lout, give me a
puah up thie chimney, and theu do you pretend
to be anxioua about that great cheat in the corner."
It waa the faablon, aa aome know, to build
chimneya, iu thoae daya, with Are-plaoea of immenae
aite, whole familiee being able to ait ootnfortably
between the Jamba, and Counoll Redwood,
atout, aotive, and a practiced hunter, found
no difficulty in making an aaoeat to the top of
Carer' home. The latter, to the quaotlona of
the Sheriff, gave evaalve unaware, oonatantly
glancing at the huge cheat in n corner of the
room; nod tha Sheriff advancing toward* the
euepicioua object, hia boat throw htmaotf on tha
lid in auoh n way aa to Indoaa tha offioer to
call in hia depaUaa. Tha lid waa qniakly fbawed,
tha young man, in tha mean time, warmly expoetulating
againat the prooaedluga, the old-fhah
ioned Ixture, M op'd it* ponderoua jawa," and
revealed piles of ol<! books Ami papers, ami a
rusty sword, an old pair of horseman's pistols, and
the decayed accoutrements of an officer of a former
age.
" Behold,*' exclaimed Carey, "the weapons and
dress of a captain in Cromwell's army; they did
good service then , tbey served the cause of liberty
on Albermarle. and, by the blessing of God,
they shall again be worn by a freeman, in the
cause of humanity."
The Sheriff was not in a mood to philosophise ,
and had he been, be would have been interrupted
by a loud, stern voice in the lane:
(l Sheriff of Orange ! " cried Redwood, and all
the tenants of the house ran to the door. The
hardy Regulator was mounted on a horse whoso
mettle he well knew, and the noble animal seemed
to understand that Lis master was in danger.
" Rh?et(f pf Or*ngf-r said Redwood, "tell Col
1'anmng (bat I have postponed my appointment,
at the Maw Fields I wiij nreaeh /hers on Saturday
two tracts, rarewen, Mr. Carey, good
morning, geutlemen officersI*
The Sheriff and his aids were soon on horse
hack, and the chase began. At first the burly
Regulator, like a coursing hare, seemed to play
before hie pursuers, the latter also holding back
as if to try th* bottom of their glline , but, gradually,
all portlis applied the whip, au<t noon the
woods resounded with the clatter ofdtoofs striking
furiously on the ground. The Regulator
kept within talking distance of his pursuer*, still
sitting, half-turned in the saddle, aud calmly discoursing
with the Sheriff and his aids; and thus
they went till mile after mile had been passed,
and the appearance of the country begin to indicate
the proximity of a large stream of water.
Redwood knew that the Alamanoe was not far
off, and, for fear of accidents, put his horse to bis
speed snd was quickly out of sight. One of the
deputies, however, was bellowing behind, crying,
"Stop thief! Arreat the outlaw !" and uttering
such other exclamations as were c?leulated to
excite the suspicions of persons about the crossing
of the stream before them. The bridge of
the Alamance was a toll-bridge, and as the Wizard
of the Pilot came galloping up, all covered
with dust and soot, two men with guns stood upon
the abutment.
" Discount, or we'll fire," said one of them.
Redwood dismounted, and leading up his horse,
isked what was the toll.
" Nothing, till you paaa," they exclaimed, seising
him, and indulging in a quiet, sinister laugh *
' niay-be the Sheriff will pay for you." The officers
were then in view, shouting to the tollkeeper
and his aid to hold their prisoner fast. but
the bold Regulator kept his eyes on other objects.
" There, old Alamanoe, is my toll! " said he,
as with a powerful shake of his right arm he
shook one of his jailers into the turbid Btream
below, and then, taking the other in his arms,
cried " Your fare is paid, Mr Sheriff," and flung
his writhing victim over the other side of the
bridge In an instant he was on his horse, and
rising in his stirrups and lifting his hat, thank
<Mi his pursuers for their company to the bridge,
bade them good day, and dashed into the woods
[to RK OONCM'DtD NfcXT WKEK.J
SPEECH (IF 1101. DAVID AVI LI (IT,
OK PE!K!WVI.VAKIU,
IN THK IIOUKK OK KKKKKSKNTATIVkS,
Wtdn'titiy, July V4, 1850.
The Committee of the Whole on the state of
the Union having postponed the consideration of
the California Message, and taken up the bill
making appropriations for the support of the Military
Academy?
Mr. WILMOT obtained the floor, and proceeded
to say: That he should fail in his duly if he
remained silent under the charge against those
friendly to the unconditional admiasion of California,
made upon them by the gentleman from
Illinois, [Mr. McClkrs*ni).| He bad himself
heard of the existence of a party or faction in that
House, so hostile to California as an independent
measure, as to threaten raaiatanos by revolutionary
me< us to paralyse the fnnctions of Govern ?'
uy a defeat at the ord'naw-, r
appropriations. This h?lisa he understood to be
the allies and onsd.intors of the gentleman from
Illinois. He (Mr. W) was not of them in spirit
or in action.
Mr. WILLIAMS rose to a point of order lie
submitted that it was not in order on this bill to
discuss the <|uestion of the admiaaion of California,
&o.
Mr. PRESTON KING said, that as the whole
((uestion of the freedom of debate came into controversy
on this point of order, he should ask
that it h<> reduced to writing.
Mr. WILLIAMS referred to the rule on which
he based his point of order.
The point of order was then reduced to writing,
as follows:
' I call the gentleman to order, under the 31st
rule of the House, which require* the speaker to
eon tine himself to the question under debate, and
It is not in order for the geotlenmu to discuss the
merits of the California bill on the question now
pending."
Mr. MILLIARD inquired whether the question
was debateahle?
The CHAIRMAN said, the Chair hud not jet
given a decision
The CHAIRMAN then said that, looking to
the range of debate wich was allowed in Committee
of the Whole on the state of the Union, the
Chair did not feel authorised to pronounce the remarks
of the gentleman from Pennsylvania [Mr.
Wii.mot] out of order. The Chair, therefore,
oreruled the point of order.
Mr. WILLI A MN said, that he appealed front
the decision of the Chair.
Mr WILMOT desired to be informed by the
Chair, whether, when the House was in Committee
of the Whole on the state of the Union, the
itate of the Union its well as the imme
liate hill which was peuding, was not under conlideration
1
The CHAIR MAN assented, remarking that it
sua upon that ground that he had overruled the
joint of order.
The question was then taken, Shall the decison
of the Chair stand as the judgment of the
Committee?" and decided in the affirmative, withiut
a division.
So the deolsion of the Chair was affirmed by the
Committee
Mr. WILMOT proceeded. Not until to-day,
tnd from the gentleman from Illinois, [Mr. McClernanh
| had he heard this charge of a desire
lo defeat the appropriation hills, made upon the
friends of Freedom. He had risen to repeal any
inch oharge, and to brand aa false, all such rumors.
Indeed, it was astonishing to him how such rumors
could have obtained ourreucy. fie suspected
that they eiisted only in the imagination of
the gentleman from Illinois, and that be is the
lirst to give them breath and circulation In the
caucus to which the gentleman refers, there was
not a word said which could be tortured into such
a construction It is true that tbe friends of California
desire action ; it is trne, they begin to apprehend
that those whoeamehere professedly her
friends, are not so in good faith, but are prepared
to give her the go-by. He desired to give to California
precedence over tbe appropriation bills.
He believed that the friends of Cslifornia desired
that, course now \ and the reason is this: the his
wirj uj mo uuTrrumfiH. sur ?wruij ;mri, prwTr?
that the appropriation hi 11m are not panted until
the laat days of the session; and he felt astiefied
that when those bills were p.oned, that the day of
adjournment will have arrived The aame men
who now aeek to Have off the admission of CalU
fornia?to put the conaideration of that great meaa- ,
ure behind other business, after a shameful delay
of eight months?the same men, sir, will vote for
and carry an adjournment, so soon as the appropriation
bills shall have been passed. It is to iniure
action on this measure?to make It oertain?
to place It beyond doubt or oontlageney, that wo
desire to give it priority over the appropriation
bills. The admission of California is the great
measure of publio interest, and ought to be first
tnd foremost In our regards. It Is uppermost in
ihe minds andaffections of tho people,and should
not by us bo made subordinate to northing else.
Iudglng from tho declarations of gentlemsn when
se mot hero in Deoember last, when the voices
?f our constituents were yet audible, he (Mr. W )
bad supposed that there was not a Northern man
sn this floor who was not in favor of the i//Wy
tad unconditional admiaaion of California. Now
w# hava the declaration by ths gentleman from
Illinois, [Mr. MeCi.KSNANi>,| that he is opposed
to hsr unconditional admiaaion. Ho, too, wishes
to drive bargains in bohslf of slavery. lis wishes
to msks California purchase hsr wsy into tka
Union by large and important concession# te the
slave interest* He is in favor of {loggiaf bar
with measures for the Government of the Territories?for
the settlement of the Texes boundary?for
the eetehing of runswsy olaveo?in abort,
with anything sod everything which thesdvoeatee
of alavery may demand. He would make Call|ski
vocitm fau?.j