The Charleston daily news. [volume] (Charleston, S.C.) 1865-1873, 1866-11-08

that was q 1OuR, 1OuE5 tSO IAI.A
since then sounded, jarring through the idle sun
shine on the fow and peaceful shore. e.,oroa
and everywhere are the traces OF history, legend
and tradition Here dwet IN 1otmer years se
Soldiers and gentlemen Of many generations.
They have not left their peers,
That house you see aoross the foliage yonder ls
B- the abode of hospitality and kindness.
Shall We I iselnbark here at the Old wharf running
cut into the stream2 Perhaps We may find az some
firing there to attract, some memorial OF the elder
davs and of the great race which illustrated them.
We land, and the murmur Of tho wave upon the
sand to and Sen ap
proaeh the good old mansion. Do not be afraid
am not in q descriptive mood this fine June day,
and you shall look for yourself upon the great OLD
trees the blooming flowers the rustic porrf,co OF aha
bic welcome We have stopped:--or at least l
have-to see two portraits in t6e old mansion the
portraits Of some friends Of the first years OF the
great eighteenth century. Doyou remember those
good years His Excellency Governor SSpotts-
wood was then ruler Of Ygnaa nraRe @ 3d han su
helm, and who marched with the gay youths Of che
colony to the far Blue Ridge, drank the health Of
the King on the summit Of the mountains, and
Rd o9Dig s Of Of the i
is not the portrait Of the SCARED old soldier am
seeking-iti is yours, my hearty! hanging yonder
on the wall, and looking down serenely with the
Sire de Couoy air So we meet again, ganans
Colonel Of 1haygh no. zee ha Rua
eoodly company to draw The dividing line botTeon
and the n afeghdS9Iag gadanag few
Engsh, and those bright eyed, brave, thorough
bred Huguenots, who have sought refuge here
from the tyranny Of His Majesty Louis XIV. How
we laughed and talked as We rode through the gay
Virginia woods into the unknown land, now we
- Do5n hnY yp1 n0pa9h
DAYS in mirth and jest and song! think y! We
made that Journey in or about the year 1877, did
we not Memoryis 80 treaeherousl and in these
historic dates am curiously weak. But could
never forget you, my dear Oolonel; you look ~
above the piano, as you did in the actual fesha
cavalier full of Life, gayety, gallantry, wit and with
certain air Of exquisite courtesy as Of the tray
eled man, long moving IN the tnost society OF tne
the English Court-and had the Earl of Orrery for
your intimate friend, as well as many others :, who
valued YOU much, and presented yon with their
portraits, hanging all around me as look: Among
these your own picture impresses me most, and ioW
utter. say to my travelling companion: There is
something brave, gallant and charming in that
countenance, which looks down upon you from
under the flowing curls OF the immense peruke ana
above the lace and rules at neck and bos ON. Have
you ever seen faceof greater personal beauty1
tesy, I higR breeding and nob!esse2 There
is none IN the roll Of English worthless more hand
some and attractive. Not Philip eidneys, or that
of the lover Of the beautiful Elizabeth Oeol stars
his mild bright eyes, his perfectly arched brows,
his mouth full Of character, sweetness, and lurk-
ing humor-with his bel air OF gentlemen, not
ha1ghty, not obsequious, but simRRle-the R master
He would have been forgotten, but he wrote !, Q
book-the old MS. in faded ink lying there beneath
his picture. That, may it please you, my dear
travelling companion, is "The Westover Manu-
script" so called from the name Of the authors
narrates the adventures Of the Colonel and his
comrades as they went FORTH bravely, in that good
year 1877, to the wds Of the Roanoke and the Dig
NAL Swamp to draw the dividing line The MS:
has been printed-read it. It is oharmngi fun OF Of
scenery, and touched here and there by gay yet
mordat wit, Some Of this wit is too broad for to-
day-savoring as it does Of the atmosphere in
which wrote Congreye, Wyoherly and vanbrugh:
Doubtless the good Colonel had known the great
Sir William Congreve, and caught from the society
in which ho moved that tone Of daring perstfage,
and polished irony mingled with an odd, rich hui
NOR which spared nothing, He was gallant, and m
gentleman in all-but some Of his jokes upon the
ladies are shocking
Ae YOU salute the noble face Of the old master OF
Westover, and seem to see him make courtly
movement with his stately head in reply, your
glance will wander to another portrait, hanging on
the wall not fur from his.the picture Of another
the same time Tis Q stranger, is it not, that you
gaze upon, good my ow-trayeller But she is
none to me. This is Evelyn Byrd, the daughter OF
the worthy Colonel and alliances long ago, they say,
to the young Lord Peterborough: Ihey were never
century-he was Catholic and the young lady was
a Protestant So the match was broken of; the
young nobleman went into religious house, and
the maiden died few years afterward-that is au:
Not much you will saybut you nave eny = 70 @ lHs
not be difficult to shape sweet and pathetic ro-
NANCE
'Tis sweet and gracious face, that Of Evelyn,
the fair morning star Of day that is dead She
the rose in her hair, and tho twin roses blooming
in the delicate checks. There is a red bird there
in one corner Of the picture, but the paraquet
scarcely attracts your attention,-you are looking
fingers My-white, rest there on tho blue satin lap;
the fair, round neck bends sidowise with an e1qu-
site grace; the beautiful head inclines slightly to-
wards the shoulder, like q flower. Of the dawn
weighed down with the dews Of night. Tho figure
Of the maiden is little and undulating; the waist
long, slender, slight enough to span thosyoung
bosom under the Marie Stuart bodice is half-opell
bud of the Spring. You look at her there on the
old walls of the hall, and you murmur "He must
have loved her dearly |"
One other memory Of the t'mighty men Of old"
and we come back to the present. We have reach,
cd City Point at the mouth Of the Appomattox, md
enter the broad door of an old mansion called
Cawsons. In this year of our Lord, 1885, Oawsons
is forgotten ruin, for fire long ago destroyed it;
but in iH-, whom wo cross the threshold, it is O
fine old Virginia house, full of charming people.
Let us look at the famiy-tlley are worthy of at
tention. Yonder in his groat dining-room is
gray-haired old cavalier; at ten PAGES from him is
beautiful woman of middle age with profuse rayen'
hair bnck ewes that sparkle whenever she speaks,
and complexion OF deep olive which sho derives
from her anoestrcss, Pocahontas. But it is noth
or with the smiling old cavalier or the dark beauty
near him that we may now concern ourselves. Let
us look rather at that beautiful child yonder, play
ing on the grass, over which his small feet scarce