Southern banner. (Athens, Ga.) 1832-1872, June 28, 1855, Image 1

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Newspaper Page Texth FAMI1Y jgjtffljjjAis PEVOTEP TP PWTtCS, ftSBtCUlTTOE, (HEWS AH0 UTEfiATM VOL. XXIV. ATHENS, GEO., THURSDAY, JLXE 28,1855. 4jjf#otttJ)fni®aum v r, PUBLISHED WEEKLY, B¥ niLL & SLEDGE, A. A. IRAUKLIS M1I.L, JAMES A. SLEDGE, EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS. 'Office Up-stdirs, No. 7, Granite Rote. TERMS: Two Dollar* per finnans, in adrnace, or Threr Dollar*, if delayed. To C lulls remitting SIO, in ndrancr, Six Co- Vie*»»ill bo noiit. .. . . Any subscriber failing to give notice of ins aesirc 'to ffit.cfl rttitiile his subscription at the expiration of \hc time for which it has boon paid, will lie considered 'tis wishing to continue it, and hold liable accordingly. T-ar No paper will be discontinued, (except at the •Option of the Editors,) until all arrearages are paiu. KATES of ADIKBTISIJIG. g of twelve lines small )ne Dollar for the first i for each weekly continu- nnec. Special contracts can be made for yearly advor- 'tining. Legal advertisements inserted at the nsnal rate*. Announcing candidates for office, Five Dollars, payable in advance, in all cases. Husbands advertising their wives, will bo charged $5, to bo paid invariably in advance. .... Advertisements should alfrays have the desired bnmbcr of ihiertions mnrked upon them when handed in, or otherwise the will be published till forbid, and Viharged accordingly. SOUTHERN BANNER. “ Various, that the mind Of desultorv tnan, studious of change, And pleased with novelty may he indulged.'' Cowper. DIRECTORY. Professional and Business men can have tlieir eards inserted umlcr'this head, for one year, at the rates of Five Dollars for a enrd of not more than six lines, nud seventy-five cents for each additional line. DR. C. D. LOMBARD, W OULD respectfully announce to the citizens of Athens and vicinity, that his office is still over Wilson A Veal’s Clothing Store, College Ave nue, opposite the Post Offico. Feb. 9—ly. MOORE & CARLTON, D EALERS in Silk, Fancy and Staple Goods, Hardware anil CWI.ry V.. v, o~-»- u..w. Alliens, (la. I dan. -ti. T. II. WILSON & BROS., W ill 1LESALE and retail dealers in Dry Goods, Groceries, Hardware, Crockery, Ac., Noe. 3 anil I, College Avenue, Athens, Ga. March 16. SAMUEL P. TI1CRM0ND, V TTORNKY AT LAW. Jefferson, Jackson coun ty, Ga., will attend promptly to anv business » ? 1 ^ r t In iu^ confiihil to hw caro. [April 19,1855. WILLIAM G. DELONEY, Attorney nt Law, W ILL give especial attention to collecting, and to the claims of all persons entitled In LAND WAR HANTS under the late bounty land bill of the last Congress. office Oa Broad Street, over the More of I. M. Ken ney, Athens, Ga, March 15—tf. IIILL A THOMAS* D EXttERS in Silk, Fancy, and Staple Goods, Raid ware, Crockery, Groceries; Ac., No. 4 Granite Row, Athens.Gn. [Jan. 19. FERRY & REESE, W HOLESALE and retail dealers inflate, Capa, , Boots, Shoes, Trunks, Ac., between Drs. Isings’ and White’s corner. Broad street. Alliens. Ga. [Jan. 19. F. IV. LUCAS, W HOLESALE and retail dealer in Drv Good*, GrocicJtics, Hardware, Ac., No. 2, T^oml *t. At hen*, Ga. (4.m 19. ('. W. & II. R. J. LONG, "TT|7TfOLESALK mid retail Druggists, Athens, V V Gn.,keep constantly on hand a lartrc and well selected stock of Paints, Oils, Varnishes, Dye Stuffs, Brashes, Window Glass and Pntty. Also.dealers in American, French and English Chemical, Drugs, Medicines, Perfumery and Fancy A articles. iir Physicians, Dealers and all others, can de pend upon their orders meeting prompt attention, upon the most accommodating terms. Their goods are selected with great care, and will be warranted ns represented. Jan. 19. T. STE.NHOl'SE, C. N\ AVER1LL. T. STENHOrSE & CO,., F ORWARDING and Commission Merchants, No. 2, Hayne Street, Charleston S. C. Refer to R. Dnlin. Hand, Williams A Wilcox, Charleston Hand, Williams A Co. Augnsta; J. Noreross, Allan tn; C. C. Chandler, Chattauooga; K. H. A D. L. Coffin A Co., Knoxville. July 20—ly. R. L. BLOOMFIELD, \lTnOLESALE and retail Clothing Store, Broad v V Strrcct, Athens, Ga, (May 10. P. N. jrDSON, C OMM1SSON MERCHANT, and dealer in choice Family Groceries, Confectionaries, Fruits, Ac. on the corner of Broad and Jackson streets, Athens Ga. April 26,1855. IRON AND BRASS FOUNDRY AND M ACIIINB WORKS. I RON and Brass Castings of every variety and description, Improved Iron Circular Saw Mills warranted equal to the best: Steam Engines, For einu Pumps, Gold Mining, Mill, Gin, and all other kinds of (leering; Mill Irons and all kinds of Ma chincry made to order; Iron Fencing of select pat terns: Plough and Wagon Castings and Dog-irons. Every variety of repairing and wrought iron work promptly executed. Our general assortment of patterns, are the aocu mulntiou of years. A list will be sent those ad dressing, post-paid, REUBEN NICKERSON, M. F„ Agent Athens Steam Co., Athens, Ga. -Jan 18—ly. FURNITURE MANUFACTORY AND WARE-ROO.TI. T I1K undersigned begs to announce that he has now on hand at his WARK-KOOM, near the Episcopal Church, an extensive assortment of Fa ‘ nUnre, of every description. Connected with ware room. Hi a CAB INF. T SHOP, where h prmiared to make any article of furniture to or und Ht short notice, and to repair old fumitnr upholstering, Ac., Ac. He keeps on hand tortment of Gilt Moulding, ot every variety. F4*U>* Patent Metallic and other coffins, -constantly on hand. jy TERMS CASH. November 30, 1854. WILLIAM WOOD. NO. 16. Watering Places. Now “ that the winter of our discontent is made glorious summer,” the people of the cities and hot places are looking to see where they' will pass the summer with theit fami lies. We. will not say to Southerners, do not visit Saratoga, Newport, and Cape May, for we bolievn that the intermingling with our Northern brothers and sister* has a good social effect on the hearts of the American people, and help bind us together with those delightful cords of feeling, which Unite us in one brotherhood of humanity; for— “ No pent-np Utica contracts our powers, But the whole boundless continent is ours.” Dut let us not forget that there are within our own State the most delightful places for health, sight-seeing, and amusement. Thd developement of man depends much on the climate Atid physical nature of the country. The people under the Equator are too effeminate and la’Ck energy, but have ex cess of feeling. Those near the poles* as the Esquimaux, are frozen up; while in the Canncas and Northern States we have ener gy and go-ahead braced up notions, but the spirHuelle slightly under the proper point.— Georgia is about in that latitude which unites the beauties of both ; warm enough in parts for the highest feeling, and also cool enonglt I by her mountains to give energy and deter mination sufficient to make life lovely. Georgia has, 'ike the Medea of Cornielle, resources within herself" suitable for all.— At the Indian Springs are congregated many from the Middle parts of the Stale, as from Macon and Milledgeville. Those from Co lumbus and the South West are found at the Meriwether and Warm Springs, while many from Eastern Georgia, and the “ low country” go to the Madison Springs, Galns- ville, Clarkesville, and on the State Road to Catoosa. The Heliacan Springs, five miles from Athens, were once a pleasant resort.— And those who attend the famous Madison Springs, 23 miles from Athens, where fre have passed many a pleasant day, frill never regret it. The Montvale Springs in East Tennessee will probably be the most numer ously attended in the South. From some, whom we learn will be there, the Catoosa Springs, promise a most brilliant and delight ful season; for wherever charming ladies go, there all nature seems to smile; the flowers look prettier, the birds sing sweeter, and even the winds of Heaven which cool the cheek, will appear like Pindar’s— Breezes that blow around the tales of the blessed.” AH! MANY A THROBBING HEART OF PAIN. Ah ’ many a throbbing heart of pain Doth beat beneath a silken vest, And many a wildly plaintive strain, Disturb the honest, poor man’s breast; For life liuth many a joy and care, Thatj off concealed, avoid thVgoze; And this old world hath many a suaro Lay hid within a golden mitze. The fickle smiles of fashion lend A sickly charm to earthward aims, And nten, ulus! in folly bend. To pay the debt which custom claims. The world is growing old in sirife, And gold, by man "oft deem'd divine, Usurps the noblest powers of life, And makes the pure in heart to pine. Those spirits who but dare to soar, Like eagles in their dauntless flight, The realms of knowledge to explore, And yield the minds of men more light— Ah! rarely will they know the bliss, A jtcople’s gratitude s'.tonld raise Their worth. A future age—not this— Shall recognise and sing their praise. Oh! Is there not a stinging smart, Derm felt when haokneyed worldings chide, And, fiendish like, enslave the heart, To add more splendor to their pride? Mind—heart—those giftf of priceless worth, Arc slaves to Mnmmott, and oft crushed; While men, estranged upon the earth, Go forth with features wanly flushed Great Spirit of the World, how long, Shall weakness, purity, and truth Remain oppress'd—while Mammon strong, Makes earth the scene of joyless ruth— A plague more fearful than the scourge That visits.oft our favored land, Is raging in life’s heart to purge Its veins of all that’s truly grand? Bis broad head shone in an occasional sumbe&m or grew crimson with the flash, of an occasional cArinon or rifle. Histwhite uniform was rent and stain- ed, in fact, from head to foot, he was cov ered with dust, and blood. Still Iris right arm was free; still it rose there, executing a British hireling when it fell; still his voice was heard, hoarse and husky, but strong in every turn—‘‘Forwarts.Brudem!” He beheld the division of Sullivan re treating from the field; lie saw the Brit ish yonder stripping their coats from their backs, in the madness of pursuit. He looked to the south for Washington, who with the reserve finder Greene, was hur rying to the chief was not in Then Pulaski -qvas convulsed with Camp-Meetings and the Frenchman. Those who go to camp-meetings have wit nessed the zeal with which some ardent breth ren call up mourners. There was a little French Dancing-master who attended one, because, like the blind man, he “ wanted to see.”— A brother, with a “forty-hirse parson pow was exhorting the people to “come up—now is the accepted time”—and ap proaching the Frenchman, said to him “ Come, go to Heaven this evening.*' “ Ah,” said Monsieur, not liking the idea of leaving this pleasant world, “ excuse me this time— I have a little dancing school that I have pro mised especially to meet this evening." Matrimonial Advertising. The pursuit of happiness in seeking a husband or wife, often developes some rich and racy things. The German custom of advertising for your conjugal and conjugial partner, is becoming more frequent in Aineri ca, and one of the best we have seen is this, from a New York paper: A PERSONAGE, (feminine thereabouts, rich! r) of 17 or thereabouts, richly endowed with intellectual gifts, told some at baking beans. Wishes to form the acquaintances of a nice yonng Man, with a View of a Matrimonial alliance. He ronst be of a pliable disposition, and willing to remain silent most of the time. Money no object (with the applicant.) A diploma from Bamum, a recommendation. Ad dress, with full particulars, BETSEY, Box No, 141 Tribune office. Let any “nice young ntan” find Miss Bet sey, so “rich in intellectual gifts, and some at baking beans,” and they will perhaps realise the poet’s vision— “grow together, Like to a double cherry, seemed parted. But yet a union in partition; Two lovely berries moulded on one stem; So with two seeming bodies, but one heart’ **. ROSSIGNOL’S COMPOUND EXTRACT OF SARSAPARILLA, F OR the cure of Rhenmatism, Scrofula, Syphil illc And Mercurial disrmsf-a. TlIntpliM most efficient remedies known, and approved by the ■medical faculty, for the cure of tfceabbve named afflicted with any of them, W nL find U,b .\ , P e ? dy < pleasant and effectual remedy. .. The proprietorja so confident of the success of this medicine, (after an experience of twelve yean,) that be will purchase negroes afflicted with rbeuma- osm, who have become useless to their owners at a fair valuation, or will treat such cases, if sent to him and warrant a cure or no charge for his services. ’ This medicine ia prepared from a vegetable sub- •tance, and does not contain one grain iff mineral. Price, one dollar per bottle. Prepared and sold, ° f Hardware, Iron, Crock*™ low, for cash, by April 26. for in making a visit to a fascinating lady, he so far lost his identity with things tempor al, that he was entirely uncouscious of the flight of time. Yet nearly the same thing occurred with the talented Richard Brinsley Sheridan, who, visiting one evening, Miss Linely, staid to too late an hout; but the next day he sent this beautiful apology: “Too late I’ve staid—forgive the crime, Unheeded flew the hours, For noiseless falls the foot of time, That only treads on flowers.” LARGE stock of Dry ds, Hats, Boots and Shoes, -a?!?. Groceries, Ac., for tale ORADY A NICHOLSON “‘■SBacon, for ApSu. b/ T - BISHOP A SON. 100SjfcWtor-* «£»JPT? ar for uie April iS*’ by T ’ ***8HOP * BON. California is a progressive State. The visions of beauty and innocence, which are connected with our idea of Home, and the peaceful dwelling at night, form a picture somewhat in contras?to the one which one of their citizens thus draws: * “Dtumrrnu. Residence.—In a late ode to Santiago, California, by the renowned John Phcknix, the follow lines occnr: •AU night in the tweet little village, Ton bear th* soft notes of thepSof And the pleassot shriek of thevictim. 1 Sam Turning Saint.—Since the election in Virginiq.'Sam, like Rachael, refuses to comforted, for hit children are not, A down East paper says, his voice can be heard wait ing at night, and praying— “ Ob! for oLodge in some vast Wilderness,’ The air is tainted by its breath, E’eu men iuhnlo 'disease in health, Or feel the Hammy hand of death, That plague is hut the nation’s wealth. The cry of misery echo's loud, A fjj nature aids her wailimr voice, nr justice totho toiling crown— The people’s hope, the people's choice. rage. °* death they came. Routed, defeated, crushed, the red-coats flee from the hill, while the iron band srftep round the form of George Washington—they encircled him with their forms of oak, their swords of steel—the shout of his name shrieks through the air, and afray to the Ameri can host they hear him in all soldier’s joy. It was at Savannah that night catne down upon Pulaski. Yes, I see him now, under the gloom of nirtit riding toward yonder rampart, his black steed rearing aloft, while two hundred of his own men follow at Lis back. ..clc uui - Right on, neither looking to the right t'e rescue,, but the American or left . he rides, his eye fixed upon the mt in ^!ew. cannon of the British, his sttOrd gleam ing over his head! For the last (ime they heard that war fery; “Forwarts, Burdefti, Forwarts ! rt Then they saw the black horse plung ing forward, his fore-feet resting on the cannon of the enemy ; while his rider rose in all the pride of his form, his face bathed in a flush of red light. The flash once gone, they saw Pnlaski no more. But they found him—‘yes, be neath the enemy’s cannon, crushed by the same gun that killed his steed—yes, they found him, the horse and rider, to gether in death, that noble face glaring in the midnight sky with glassy eye. So in his glory lie died. He died while America and Poland were yet iii chains. He died in the stout hope that both one day would he free. With regard to America, his hopes have been fullfillod* but Poland , by those tfcho have visited it, one of the most beautiful places in the world. A clear river of water winds through it, and an Indian mound with ono solitary tree crowning its summit, are objects of ten spoken of by travellers . The monnd is an Indian' grave, and thereon hangs a tale, lovo, Pulaski. It was at the battle of Brandywine that Count Pulaski appeared in all his glory. As he rode charging there, into the thickest of the battle, he fras a warrior to look upon hut once and never for get. Mounted on a large black horse, whose strength and beauty of shape made you forget the plainness of his caparison, Pu laski himself, with a form six feet in height, massive chest, and limbs of iron, was seen from afar relieved by the black cloud of battle. His face, grim with the scars of Po land, was the face of a man who had seen much trouble, endured much wrong. It was stamped with an expression of abiding melancholy. Bronzed in hue, lighted by large black eyes, with the lip darkened by a thick moustache, his throat and chin were covered with a hea vy heard, while his hair fell in raven masses from beneath his trooper’s cap, shielded with a ridge of glittering steel. His hair and beard were of the same hue. The sword that hung by liis side, fash ioned of tempered steel, with a hilt of iron, was one that a warrior alone could lift. It was in this array that he rode to battle, followed by a band of three hun- dured men, whose faces, burnt with the scorching of a tropical sun, or hardened by northern snows, bore: the scars of ma ny a battle. They were mostly Euro peans ; some Germans, some Polandcrs, and some deserters from tlic British army. These were the men to fight. To he taken by the British would be death on the gibbet; therefore they fought their best, and fought to their last grasp, rath er than mutter a word about “quarter.” When they charged, it was as one man, their three hundred swords flashing over their heads against the clond of bat tle. They came down upon the enemy in terrible silence, without a word spo ken, not even a whisper. You could hear the tramp of their steeds, you could hear the rattling of their scabbards, but that was all. As they closed with the British, you could hear a noise like the echo of a hundred hammers beating the hot iron on the an vil; you could see Pulaski himself, riding yonder in his white uniform, his black steed rearing aloft, as turning his head over his shoulder, he spoke to his men: Forwarts, Bubdern Forwarts!” It was hut broken German, yet they understood it, those three hundred man Plato Wild begins to think that there may .of sunburnt faces, wounds and gashes.— be something in Mrs. Mowatt’s notion of With one hurst they rushed npon the ones having "different states of consciousness," enemy. For a few moments they used their swords, and then the ground was covered with dead, while their living enemy scattered in panic before their path. It was on this battle day of Brandy wine, the Count was in his glory. He understood but little English, so he spake what I 16 had to say with the edge of his sword. It was a severe lexicon, but the British soon learned to read it, and to know it. All over the field, from yonder Quaker meeting-honse away to the top of Os borne’s hill the soldiers of the enemy saw Pnlaski come, and learned to know his name by heart. That white uniform, that bronzed vis age, that black horse with burning eyes and quivering nostrils—they knew the warrior well, they trembled when they heard him say: “Forwarts, Burdern, Forwarts! It was at the retreat of Brandywine, that the Polander was most; terrible. It was when the men of Snllivan—badly armed, poorly* fed, shabbily clothed— gave way, step by step before the over whelming discipline of the British host, that Pnlaski looked like a. battle fiend mounted on his demon 6teed. His cap had fallen from his brow.— He rode madly npon the bayonets of the pursuing British, his sword gathering victims, even there, in front of their whole army; he flung his steed across the path of the retreating American; he besought them in his broken English to turn, and make one more effort; he shouted in hoarse tone that the day was not yet lost! They did not understand his words, but the tone in which he spoke thrilled their blood. That picture, too, standing out from the clouds of battle—a warrior convulsed with passion, covered with blood, leaning over the neck of his steed, while his eyes seemed turned to fire, p.nd the muscles of liis bronzed face writlnng like Serjjefct that picture, I say, filled many a heart with new courage, nerved many a wound ed armfortlie fight again. These retreating men turned—they faced the enemy again—like the wolf at hay before bloodhounds—they sprang upon the necks of the foe, and bore them down by one desperate charge. Those people know hut little of the character of Washington who term him the American Fabitis—that is, a Gener al compouded of prudence and caution, with a spark of enterprise. American Fabius ! When will you show me the Roman Fabius that had a heart of fire, nerves of steel, a soul that hungered for the charge, an enterprise that rushed from wilds like Skippock, upon an army like that of the British at Germantown, or startled from ice and snow, like that which lay across the Delaware, upon hordes like those of the Hessiansat Tren ton—then I will lower Washington down into Fabius. This comparison of oUr heroes with the barbarian demigods of Rome, only illustrates the poverty of the mind that makes it. Campare Brutus, the assassin of his friend, with Washington, the deliverer of his people! Cicero, the opponent of Cataline, with Henry, the champion of a continent! Let ns learn to he a little ^dependent, to know our great men as they were, not by comparisons with the barbarian Heroes of old Rome. Let us learn that Washington was no negative thing, hut all chivaly and gen ius. It was in the battle of the Brandywine that this truth was made plain. He came rushing on to battle. He beheld his men hewn down by the British. He heard them shriek liis name, and, regardless of his personal safety, he rushed to join them. It was at this moment that Washing ton came rushing on once more into bat tle. Yes, it was in the dread havoc of that retreat that Washington, rushing forward into the very centre of the melee, was.en- tangled in the enemy’s troops on the tpp of a high hill, southwest of the meeting house, while Pulaski was sweeping on with his grim smile, to have one more hout with the red-coats. Washington was in terrible danger— his troops were rushing to the south—the British troopers sweeping up the hill and around him—while Pulaski on a hill some hundred yards distant, was scat tering a part ing blessing among the hordes of Hanover. It was a glorious prize, this Mister Washington, in the hearts of the British army. Suddenly the Polander turned—his eye canght the sight of the iron gray and his rider. He turned to his troopers; liis whiskered lip was wreathed with a grim smile—he waved his sword—he pointed to the iron gray and his rider. There was but one movement. With the impulses that iron hand wheeled their war horses, and then a dark body, solid and compact was speed ing over the valley like a thunderbolt sped from the heavens—three hundred swords rose glittering in a faint glimpse of sunlight—and in front of the aval anche, with his form raised to his full height, a dark frown on his brow, a fierce smile on his lip, rode Pulaski, like a spirit roused into life by the thunderdolt he rode—his eyes were fixed the iron- gray and his rider—his band had bnt one look, one will, one shout*—Wash ington 1 The British troops had encircled the American leader—already the head of that traitor, Washington seemed to yawn npon the gates of London. Bnt what trembling of earth is in the valley yonder ? What means it 1 What terrible beating of hoofs; what does it protend I That ominous silence—and now that shout—-not of words or of name* but that half yell, half horirah, which shrieks from the iron men as they scent their prey ?— What means it all 1 Pnlaski is on our track 1 the terror of the British army is in our wake ! And on he came, he and his gallant hand. A moment and he had swept over the Britishers—crashed, mangled, dead and dying, they strewd the green sod.— He had passed over the hill,lie had pass ed the form of Washington. Another moment, ana that iron hand had wheeled—back to the same career Tell me, shall not the day come when yonder monument—erected by .those ■yrtxxnx Ouullicin Kcarto at BaTAlluall^W ill yield up its dead ? For Poland will yet hte free at last, as sure as God is just—as sure as He governs the Universe. Then, ^when re-created Poland rears her Eagle aloft again atnolig the banners of the nations, will her chil dren come to Savannah to gather up the ashes of their hero, and hear him home with the chant of priests, with the thun der of cannon, with the tears of millions, even as reperihnt France bore home her own Napoleon. * A sad tradition of i Of sorrows borne and < When the Indian sought his gamo in The thick wood.’ r unhappy 1 ond ended long ego, But I forget now 'fallat it is. It is how ever, something similar to the story of ‘Monument mountain’ in one of the school-books, only I. think in the grave both lovers lie bii'rried instead of one.— I had seen an engraving of the valley, in Harper’s Magazine, and had been told again and again of its exquisite loveli ness and wltfen one bright afternoon, the guide called to its to st -p and pointed out, the far away summit of Mt. Yonah, looking in the distance cveu like some huge prop Of earth, thrown up to sup port the sky, the belle and I both jump a most significant lesson as to sustaining the productiveness of tny vineyard^ in the unchecked growth lengthwise.—- Therefore, I invariably scarify the ground underneath the canopies, before expected frosts, to cause the leaves to fall; hfld after they fall, to prevent their blowing, away, or, by blowing off, to coqpteraCt the m-actical principle that the IfeavUs and Utter of any plant is the best ma nure, or equivalent therefor. ' - . I plant other kinds of vines 10 apart each way; but the Scuppemcmg should never bo planted, for a perma nent stand in a vineyard, nearer than 20 feet each way, for the branches will eventually run 100 feet or inortf. Some of mine are 30 or 40 feet apart, locking and enterlocking their branches on the canopies. So'it may readily be con ceived how one Scuppemong vine UlaV; by right culture ana management, even tually cover near a qutirter of on acre of canopy, and produce five barrels of wine annually—^a fact I know of in two instan‘ ed out of the carriage to have a better ces me tier here “ "mg am ^ Y From- the Democrat Sketches of Southern Travel. MOONLIGHT AMONG THE MOUNTAIN. Earth seems to wed the sky.—HILL As fre pursued our journey towards the Blue Ridge, nothing could exceed the soft loveliness of the monlight nights which we spent ‘beneath the open sky. They seemed to' Uih to be a realization of eastern life, and were periods which the invalid enjoyed. The hot and dtis. ty hours of the travel were over—the white tent was spread—the bright fires kindled—the horses were to the back of the baggage wagon and could be distinct ly heard eating the com—the bird upon the tree-top sunk into her nest frightened into forgetfulness of her song, by the stir and bustle about her, and the fire flies danced among the oaks,as the flush ed twilight slowly deepened into dark ness. Around the files moved the dus ky figures of the servants, cooking the evening meal—their turbans towering into unusnal dimensions, when seen by the flickering light. The guide gener ally "throw himself down at the roots of a tree, and watched with his keen, In dian like eye everything transpiring around him, and made shrewd observa tions upon what we had seen during the day. The Doctor propped up with pil lows, leaned against the tent, while we sat down around him, and enjoyed the cool breeze, peculiarly gratcftil to his languied brow. Now and then a mountaineer, passing along the road, stopped to exchange a few courteous words with the ‘campers.’ This scene, which would have been so unique in New England was a familiar one here—-almost any night a like group might be seen. The mountaineer thought nothing about its novelty—he only stop ped perhaps to say, that the evening was a lovely one, or to ask from what part of the low country, (for our speech be trayed us) we were. Now and then a negro would come, clattering by, on hU mule returning from plantation work, his head snrmobnted •by a shockingly had hat’—every trace and chain jingling while he disappeared in the wood, singing at the top of his voice, some rude African melody such as * G Witte down to »h in-bone alley Long time ago.’ The wood would take up the echo, and long time ago’ would come back with startling distinctness. When the strong coffee was prepared,(for every true south erner when traveling' takeB coffee at night, as well as in the morning) we all gathered around the rude table, and laughed and talked as merily as though we had been at some elegant festival. I never realized the charms of an Indian, or gipsy life until then. After supper we strolled off to walk in the moonlight, taking care not to go oat of sight of the fires, or else we sat down around the invalid, who refreshed now, would relate in his inimitoble manner humorous an ecdotes of his college life, or incidents which afterwards oceured to him while traveling. I often at this hour, imagined the seene to be eastern—the servants now sitting around the flickering fires, I thought most resemble the Arabs, and I almost looked for thelcngnecks of the camels, to be seen stretching over their master’s shoulders. Bat the yah / yah ' yak l which soon burst from their lips, was too peculiarly African to admit of the illusion's lasting long, and I realized that we were, a party of southerners, journeying among the wildest and most beautral scenes in Nature. When we left Tallulah Falls, it with the intention of going up the beau tiful valley of Narcoochee, to the foot of Mount .Yonah; we were all eager to moke the trip. This valley is said to be, veiw of it. It was the only view we ever got, for almost at the entrance of the valley, the invalid sickened, and it was decided by ail present, to give up the trip and hasten on to some White Sul phur Springs in Hall county. He him self though that tlie medical virtues of these waters might benefit him. But earth held no panacea for his dis ease—it was in vain to nourish hope, and we all knew and felt this, as we wended in sorrow our way onward, but neverthe less we said often one to another, in con soling tones, that rest and quiet would restore his feeble strength. We found on our arrival at this water ing place, a gay crowd—many of them like ourselves from the low country, mid among them some acquaintances, whose company, under less melancholy circum stances, would have afforded us great pleasure. But we were all engrossed by one thought—haunted by one fear, and life in all of its gay phases passed by like idle mockery. We had a sensitive ear to a low and hollow cough, but the laughter of the happy rung like a dis sonance. Alas! “ Tears,” must ever be here “the tribute which we pay, for lov- and being loved.” ""ours, truly, C. W. B. From the Agricultural Pateut Office Report. The Southern System of vine Culture and Wine-Making. BY SIDNEY WELLER, OF BRINkLEYVILLE NORTH CAROLINA. About twenty years since, I settled as farmer and vine grower at my present residence. At first, an ardent’friend of temperance, I was induced to turn my at tention to the vineyard business, because, learning from reliable information that in Eastern countries, where this species of culture is widely disseminated, little or no drunkeness prevails; and therefore, so fur as the vineyard canse is promo ted in our country the horrid vice of in* temperance would decrease. The result of my vineyard enterprise and industry therein, is about a dozen acres of flourishing vines, mostly on scaffolding, or as canopies, covering con tinuously frith brahehes (and when in hearing, with leaves and fruit) overhead, from 8 to 10 feet high, and nothing is seen between these vines; and the posts or rock pillars to support the frame-work above. My annual yield of wine has been as high as GO barrels; besides en tertaining hundreds of visitors at 25 cents each entrance, and 50 cents pet gallon for select grapes gathered to carry away My vineyard is the largest, I learn, in the South, and I am encouraged to en large it every year. To show that the Scuppemong is the grape of grapes,” South, (it does not do well north of latitude 37£°.) I may state, at our late fair at Raleigh, I took diplomas on grapes and wines, and cs- lecially on the Scuppemong, as most tighly commended by the judges. 1 exhibited Scuppemong grapes four inch es in circumference, unparalleled in size ; and no mean judges of wine, from differ ent parts of the country, pronounced my “Scuppemong hock” the best of wine.-r- I here digress, to state that, of half a dozen brands of the Scuppemong wine, I sell all readily, as soon as fit for mar ket, from $1 to 36 per gallon. . As to cultivation, I would state that whatever diversity, in North Carolina or elsewhere, in the mode of culture of other grapes, there is only one uniform mode of success with the Scuppemong —the arbor or scaffolding method. I have heard repeated, and not unfrequent- ly seen it inserted in books, that Scup pemong vines should never be trimmed, This is agreat mistake, for noy oung grape vines need trimming more than Scup pemong; for, if left to grow bushy, (os they always will if not trimmed,) they will not bear well, and soon will come to nothing. In fall and summer, all the of the young vines are to be re moved, and one or two main stems only suffered to grow unchecked in length.— But after the main stems are five or eight feet high, and branches thence spread ing over the scaffolding, trimming is un called for. Some of the first planted of the Scuppemong part of my vineyard have not been trimmed nor manured at all for fifteen years, and every season they have produced abundantly, and grow better now than at the first of that period. Posts and seaffolding have had to be renewed and repaired occasional ly. . According to my American system of vine culture, set forth years since in the old “American Farmer,” I never curtail The Scuppemong cannot be success fully cultivated by cuttings; but by grafting and layering, all desired success attends its propagation. The layers arh made by burying freshly grown lateral branches in the spring and summer, with ends left out of ground; and, in the fall, the small rooted plants are cut from the parent stock, planted in rofas, And culti vated in the nursery a year or so» and they result in well-rootfed plants fotf your own propagation,, or for sale, t send hundreds yearly, monthly South, at the medium price of 25 cents each; and cuttings of^ill kinds at 4 cents each. I send, also, both wines and vines to Petersburg or Norfolk, Va., one place ahott; 7ft, and the other about 100 miles distance; mostly ay railroad—the cost of transportation from 25 to 50 cents per hundred weight. For distant places, I box cask of wine, as well as illy other products, for market. And not only does boxing the casks prevent chances of abstraction, hut the adulteration of the wine, In the comers of the boxes I put bottles of wine as samples and pres ents. Most generally, my articles gd safely thousands of miles, at first to Pc* tersburg, thence direct to New Orleans, or by New York, and thence, say to Sit Louis, or elsewhcrei ScUppernong and Muscadine grape£ ripten for successive gatherings, for near* ly two months, and.are collected for wine making as follows: A large sheet of strong cloth, fastened to poles on two opposite sides, held by two persons; and a third shakes the canopy above the sheet with a forked stick. All the grapes then ripe fall and roll ihto thtf middle of the sheet. The grapes are mashed with a machine, consisting of two rollers, on a frame, placed over Rii open-headed hogshead, turned by han dles, at opposite ends, by two persons, with a third one putting the grapes ihtd a hopper above. After masking, and no fermenting in the must, I press off in straw rings, as for cider; and folds of a woolen blanket put oh a frame over the tub to recive the juice from the press and strain it, promotes the -maturity of the wine by taking out the greater part of the extraneous matter that would have produced over fermentatipn in the cask. Wine is made frith spirits, only as the safc-kccpiug, enriching ingredient —one-third or less added, according to the weather and state of the grapes as to dryness and maturity; and the mixture is put into a clean cask and well shakeh; where it undergoes a gentle fermentation and natural clarify, as indicated bjr the several quarts of Ices found at the bot tom of the barrel in two or three months, when the clear wine is drawn off for sale or use. The Scuppemong champaigne r&- I quires one bushel, say, of purple Scup pemong grapes, mashed with six or sev* en of the white or proper Scuppemong; and fermented in the must tfrenty-fouf hours or more, according to the heat of the weather. After pressing, as afore said, a fourth part of spirits and onti pound of double-refined sugar per gal lon, arc added, before turning or putting into the cask. For Scuppemong hock the same pro* cess is pursued, with nothing more ttd* ded than three pounds of double-refined sugar, with some additional trouble of racking, &c., to prevent the danger of acetous fermintation. Doubtless On the same principle, Mr Longworth, of Gina cinnati, distinguished for vineyard enter 1 prise, sells his Qatawba Chatapaghe stf much higher than his wine, with no in 1 f redient added. What I sell for purest cupperaong, at $6 per gallon; is made with Scuppempng brandy, distilled from soured Scuppemong juice, and mix* ing A third part thereof with the juice of the same grape. , . , Having read of the fact, in the vinfi* yard treaties of Hoar and others, that, through the discovery, by a French chemist, of 6ome property in vine-leavfe# as in the fruit, good wine could be made of leaves only, I produced from Scup pemong leaves a wine that was pronoun* ced by competent judges, at oar late State fair, superior to foreign Port. My Scuppemong leaf, or Port wine, is made by steaming, say six bushels of leaves for a barrel, in a box made of oak plank) with a sheet-copper bottom, placed over a furnace. The juice or decoction, as the result of such steaming, is mixed with one-third spirits, and from one to two pounds of sugar per gallon. In a similar manner, as stated in the vineyard treaties of Mr. Adiuin, the pioneer of the vineyard enterprise in our country, I make good vine of Scuppemong and other green grapes by adding on extra quantity of pure ingredients, as sugar and spirits, t . i; As to the cost of making wine, I would state that on a farm of about 400 acres, and a comparatively small pro* portion in vineyard and nursery, and the length of vine. Nature’s process in ^ _ keeping up and increasing fertility in other tillage, I have, on an average, woods and old pihey fields, afforded me about half a dozen good hands, at the

Georgia Historic Newspapers

Southern banner. (Athens, Ga.) 1832-1872, June 28, 1855, Image 1