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