Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1895-08-21

war ruined most OF US southern gentle
men, and our lands were bought up by
pork packers and successful drummers
and Yankee trash generally. I've been
luckier than some. I haven't sold rod
Of ground. I've been spared seeing filthy
railroads plow through my land, and
I've some other mercies to be thankful
for. That northerner was right when
he limited at my having blockade still
round here. I do run one. know it's
against the law, but the law-as laid
down by Yankees ruined me. Conse-
quently I've but small respect for it, spe-
cially as now it's sized to suit all shades
Of color. Como, sir. You said last night
you We're i'll no hurry to get on. Will
you stay awhile and rough it with me?"
The invitation was genuine, and the
Englishman remained, and because the
life was fresh and interesting to him,
and because old man Swanlee was loath
to let him go, he staid on till the
weeks grew to over month. There was
much to occupy his time. Any one with
taste for scenery may crafty it to the
full in the wooded mountains and val
leys Of the Allegheny country. Some
times he took his horse and rode along
the rough trails far afeld-over the
great Smokes and looked down on Ten
nessee Sometimes he roamed through
the second growth forest which had
sprung up in tropical luxuriance over
the once cleared land, occasionally shoot
ing wild turkey, or hawk, or flying
squirrel, or whipping in two a small
rattlesnake, but for the most part find
ing full enjoyment in admiring this gal
lery of pictures which nature by herself
had painted.
Once indeed he visited the distillery
in its weird hiding place under the wa
terfall and glanced curiously over the
crude appliances with which the fiery
corn whisky was produced. But that
was only once, and indeed the still
was seldom referred to. In the evening,
when they sat together under the wooden
piazza, the Englishman and his host
either rocked or smoked in silence, look.
ing into the warm southern night and
listening to its myriad insect noises, or
else the old man would talk and unfold
pictures of past southern splendor in the
halcyon days "befo' the wa" They
seemed to be living then in an atmos-
phere of nearly half century before,
and at times the Englishman had hard
work to bring himself back to the true
realities.
But at last there came breaking up
of the pastoral, and it arrived in bar
barous shape The place was raided by
the revenue men.
The visitor was away bee hunting in
tt!o woods When they arrived, but has
tened back when the sound of heavy fir
ing came down to him over the timber
He gained the hut, perhaps luckily, too
late for interference, but the history of
what had occurred was written out be-
fore him in rpddy lettering. Three Off
GERS of the excise lay twisted and dead
on the red soil, shot down by that ter
rible ten fire repeater, which carried its
charge like heavy ball for the short
distance. Farther out was Vanrennan,
doubled up over stump like a half
filled meal sack. Fitting in and about
the trees, still farther down the trail,
were four saddled horses leisurely graz
ing
There was no sign Of old man Swan
lee.
Had he run for the woods, Or
The newcomer rushed across the clear
ing and into the cabin. The Carolina
planter, the Confederate colonel, the
blockade distiller, the murderer, was
stretched out on the floor, with blood
oozing into pools around him. The Eng
lishman shuddered and bent down for
examination. An ear shredded through
by one bullet, temple grazed by another;
left elbow shattered by third. None Of
these were mortal; none could cause
this prostration. All, there was worse
wound, in the groin, that meant death
Under the impromptu surgery the old
man woke up
''That blasted Yankee Vanrennan!
Says I shot his father at Seven Pines
when was skirmishing for Lee outside
Richmond Very likely. I know the
orders were to take no prisoners. It was
all in the way Of business. And then,
by way of dirty vengeance, he brings
the excise about my ears. No southern
gentleman would have done that-none
but a mongrel Dutch Yankee. How
ever, he's got his Cruel, and so have the
revenue men, and I'm dying. Hello,
who are you?'
Old man Swanlee gripped his gun
again and started up full of fight.
"Oh, it's you, sir, is it? I ask your
pardon, I'm sure," he said, bowling
with old fashioned courtesy, "but this
little domestic trouble must be my ex-
cuse. Those fellows have pumped lead
into me till I've been trifle thrust off
my balance. Thanks If you would assist
me on to the floor again and bring the
corner of that box under my head. %
He rested a minute to collect his
thoughts, and then went Oh afresh.
"Now, Mr.-I'v forgotten your name
circumstances compel me to ask you
an intense favor. I've had good COM
rades, and I've had stanch friends, but
some were shot in the war, and some
have died since, and the rest are scat
tered I know not where. There isn't a
soul within riding distance, except Tar
Heelers, and I'd almost as soon trust my
little girl to niger as one of them.
"Your daughter is it that you're
speaking about?''
"That's so. haven't mentioned her
before. I don't let her have any truck
with the lot down here, and didn't in
tend to until the place was ready to re-
ceive her as she should be received-as
my mother was received when she came
upon the estate Yes, sir, that's what
I've been toiling and shaving for all
these years, barely spending 81 in cash
except a few cents an acre for taxes;
holding on to the land with miser's
grip, while the forest stamped the snake
fences out Of sight brewing vile spirit
for the mountaineers around. No, sir,
I've not sold moonlight whisky because
I liked it, or hugged my balance at the
banks merely to put myself back on the
ancestral dunghilL I've done my crow
ing But, sir, when my little girl was
born in Richmond, during the siege,
my wife made me promise before she
died that, come what might, I'd see the
child mistress of the house we'd been
driven from hore NV wife was a yery