The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1905-12-24
Nv LEM w. sEAWELL.

There is no class OF people in North
Carolina who are more given to Jolity
and genuine enthusiasm during the
yuletide than the inhabitants of the
county which takes It's name from
.udge Maurice Moore, and no county
holds a more unique and interesting
history in the makeup of our State.
There are few people within the
borders Of Carolina who have not
heard the terms Peak" and Devil
Gut" and know that they are appli-
cable TO certain sections of Moore
county.
The section known as the Peak
lies beyond Deep River, and embraces
the rugged and billy part of the
county adjacent to chatham and Ran
dolph 1t was once considered the
toughest place in the county, geo
graphically and socially, but such is
not it's condition now.
The traveller who rode through the
Peak twenty years ago and saw the
crude customs of the people and heard
the "swishee- che hunk" of the ola
loom would be surprised were he TO
PASS through there today and see the
new order of things, and near instead
of the loom, the latest German airs
skilfully rendered on nice upright
pianos, by the fingers of those, who
when girls, manipulated the shuttle.
Early in the SOS the Peak was noted
for its Illicit stills. The deep recesseS
in the banks of Deep river and the
numerous pits once dug by prospective
miners in that section, afforded some
thing like spelaean retreats Tor the
b.ockaders.
The Peak was the home of Mar
garet Taylor, familiarly called
"Marg."
Marg, in her early training had not
received the tender care and constant
attention of which a hot house plant
, could boast, neither was she an
authority on ethics, nor was her lin
cage the envy Of aristocrats, but she
had a woman's pity for distressed hu-
manitv.
Her home was often the rendezvous
of the moonshiners when pressed by
reyenuers. and a good retreat 1T was.
She was the mother Of the noted out
law Bone" Taylor, who killed Waite
Seawell, a revenue officer about TWEEN
ty-five wears ago and afterwards died
| in Sing Sing.
on a Christmas eve when the wri-
ter was in his teens and teaching
| his first school, in a district adJoln-
| ing the Peak settlement, he attend
| ed a dance given at MargS house. III
was q typical quadrille of those days,
with the usual adjuncts, viz, two fid-
! dies, a banjo and a liberal supply or
| blockade whiskey, most of it hot
| from the STILL
| 1t was bitterly cold and large pieces
| of ice were floating in the river.
Marg's house was situated on
high hill, the incline of which extend
| ed down to the river brink.
About eleven o'clock someone came
/ hurrying in and said that a man was
IN II, ri q
ed out and ran. falling pell nell over
each other down to the ford. Marg
| in front, holding aloft a torch, which
| she had snatched out of the fire place
as We all scampered out.
Neatly everybody in Moore county
| know the dangers of Island ford. 1t
was at this particular point that the
| drowning man in question, who prov
| ed to be a minister, on his way to
| preach a Christmas sermon sore
where in Randolph the following day,
| had butted into one of the darndest
pieces of luck that he had ever met
with in his ecclesiastical career.
He had been washed down the riV-
| er about fifty yards. His horse was
drowned and the buggy floating on its
| side. while he was holding to one OF
| the wheels and engaged in supplica-
| ton that was personal in the extreme,
! All of this we saw by the light in
| Marg's hand. She was equal to the
| emergency and with the assistance of
! a Mr.. Brady, rowed out in a small
canoe and succeeded in extracting the
unhappy parSon from the wheel.
| They landed him but he was nearly
| frozen to death.
We carried him up to the house
and got him started into the drying
out process; pulling off his coat and
hanging it on the back Of q chair, we
| seated him near a hot roaring fire,
where he began shaking and expector-
ating sections of Deep river that his
| lungs had cornered on during his noe
| turnal bath.
He refused the whiskey that was
/ offered him and also declined the loan
| of one of Marg's dresses, which she
generously offered him to replace his
| wet clothes, there being no surplus
mems clothes on hand. but he did
| drink the hot coffee she prepared for
| him.
Pretty soon the dancing was reSum-
| ed, and that preacher sat gazing at
| the fire and looking just az if he was
| imposed upon. But as the dancers
warmed up to their business and the
ancient notes of molly Put the Kettle
| on" were being reeled off and the
calico skirts were SWlShlng by him in
rapid succession the parson said, in
| sort of an injured tone, that all was
| dry except his back and that he must
| turn it around to the fire, and it took
| him the remainder of the night to
| dry his back. His face soon lit up
| with a smile and he didn't look like
| man with a wet back or one who was
| saying his last prayer two hours be-
| fore.
! The old Seth Thomas clock that
stood on a shelf, struck three, and the
Prince Albert coat that hung on the
chair back was smoking furiously and
the little Bible that protruded from
| one of the tail pockets was in danger
| of igniting, but the parson needed it
not, he kept on drying his back and
some one else moved out the chair.
| He sat out the night with us and
| when morning came he shook hands
with the crowd and thanked us for
going to his rescue, but lamented the
drowning of his horse which would
keep him from preaching the Christ
mas sermon at the church which was
ten miles away. But it did not. He
L