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They immediately proceeded to the house of Mrs. T. .1- | hunted outlaws were driven froin place to place ner, forced an entrance, and turning down the sheets and found no rest. Turner left his familiar haunts of her bed, wiped upon them their gory swords. “This in the woods and swamps, and took his departure for blood ”_ the murderers shouted in her ears—" is the Florida. His mother lived to a great age, and was blood of your young son!” and with fierce exultation respected in the neighborhood, for the guilt of her sons at the mother's grief and horror, they left her to her was not imputed to her. After her death, in 1810, Ned search for the lad's mangled body.
ventured back—a worn and aged man-to pay a visit The news of this sacrifice quickly reached the two to his kindred in South Carolina, and receive some brothers who served with Cunningham, and they share of his mother's estate. vowed a fearful vow of bloody vengeance. With The sons of Stokely Towles were soon informed that one associate, they set out, as on one of their midnight their father's cruel murderer was walking free and excursions for plunder, and marched from the Saluda unharmed among the scenes of his former violence and River to Indian Creek. There, surprising the little set- crime. “Blood for blood," was the cry of nature tlement in the midst of peaceful slumber, they burst within them. They raised a party, resolute as thieminto the unprotected houses, dragged four Whig lads selves for vengeance; and marching at night, surrounded from their beds and from the presence of their mothers, the house of Turner's niece, in which he was then stayheedless of shrieks and entreaties for mercy, and rusbinging as a guest. with these prisoners into the forest, put them to death Colonel Towles, pistol in hand, took his position at by hewing them in pieces with their swords, amid their the door. The old man within was soon made aware, piercing cries and supplications. This brutal retaliation by some means, that his enemies had surrounded him, was in its turn revenged; one of the murderers being and were determined to visit upon him a fearful retri. afterwards killed by kinsmen of the victims.
bution. His ancient fire and cunning revived with the The thirst of blood was not yet slaked in the brothers pressure of danger, Seizing his clothes, he dressed Turner, after this horrible deed. In one house they himself hastily, and stood in readiness; and the instant found Stokely Towles—a man whom they knew for an the door was thrown open, he sprang through it like active patriot-prostrated with the small-pox. Not lightning. Colonel Towles, however, was quick and even the fear of contact with this loathsome disease bold, and prepared for accidents. He fired as the old could turn them from their fell purpose. They dragged ruffian dashed past him; Ned Turner staggered forward him from the hole into which he had crept for conceal- a few steps, and fell in the yard, apparently lifeless. ment, and inhumanly butchered him. Could the ima- The ball had entered his neck. John Towles looked gination of a writer of romance picture scenes more ter- at the body; the man seemed to have breathed his last, rible or revolting! We give the simple outline but he was not certain, and he called out to his brother of truth, without a tint of coloring; the reader will not to “shoot the old rascal again.” But the colonel be at a loss to fill out the sketch.
refused, and forbade any of the others to do it; it was The fate of the violent and bloody man is foretold. a shame, he said, to shoot a dead foe. The party One of the actors in this tragedy-Dick Turner—was quitted the place immediately. captured by stratagem, not far from his mother's resi- / Presently, the mistress of the house walked slowly dence. He was brought before the commanding officer into the yard, to search for the body of her slaughtered of the party. “Tell me," said the officer, “where are uncle. She was weeping loudly, and invoking venyour comrades p"
geance on those who had slain him. Her cries and The prisoner made no reply.
lamentations were interrupted by a faint sound from the " Tell me!" shouted the other, “ tell-or- "and he corner of the fence. The victim had crawled there to presented a loaded pistol at Turner's breast_“I will hide himself. As the startled woman ran to the spot, shoot you!"
she was greeted by the words, uttered in a distinct and "Shoot, and be d-d!” was the answer of the fear- strong voice : less ruffian. The officer pulled the trigger, and the rob- “Don't be a fool! Bring me my horse. Old Ned ber and murderer fell expiring at his feet.
ain't dead yet!" His brother, Ned, remained in Cunningham's corps The horse was speedily brought. The old man meanthrough the War, and after its close, was placed, with while had arisen, and walked into the house. The bul. his associates, under the ban of the State. They were let had inflicted only a flesh wound, and that an inconproclaimed outlaws by the governor, and a reward was siderable one. He lost no time in preparing to mount his offered for every man of them, dead or alive. The horse, and commence his homeward journey, for he remaining members of this notorious band fled for had good reason to fear pursuit from his enemies, refuge to the vast swamps, and the thickets on the should they learn that he was not killed. He reached banks of Saluda, Bush, and Little Rivers. In these bis home in safety, and there died, having attained a wild fastnesses, impenetrable save to those who knew great age. how to trace the labyrinths, they remained concealed; The adventures of Ned Turner would afford material were called “outliers," and were the terror of the for a novel; and the close of his career inculcates honest and industrious families of the settlements. a moral as striking as that illustrated by any fiction.
Search for them, however, was not given up by those who bad suffered from this ferocious gang, and the
| house, and made his way to the barn, where he conTHE OUTLIER AND HANNAH GAUNT.
cealed himself. HUBBs was one of Turner's companions, and an asso
Hubbs was not killed, though when the stone struck ciate in the band of Cunningham; he also became an
him the blood had spouted up to the low ceiling. He "outlier” after the War. One of his excursions,
scrambled to his feet in the confusion of Gaunt's in which he had the company of Ned and another com
escape, and leaped on a table under a window, through rade, was for the purpose of robbing a sturdy old man.
which he jumped or fell into the yard, striking upon --one Israel Gaunt—who lived in the manner of the
his head in the descent. His associates carried him Quakers, and used their language, though not one
off. He recovered, and was, some time afterwards, of their society. Hubbs proposed an attack on his
hanged in Georgia. Gaunt recovered from his wounds,
and in after years often spoke with astonishment of the house, having heard that money was kept there. Israel Gaunt was a man of gigantic frame, of great
| hardness of the outlaw's head. “It was a violent strength, and indomitable courage. His house and
hard head,” he used to say ; "as hard as any ram's kitchen, as was usual in the dwellings of the Quakers, were under the same roof. It was a comfortable abode,
ASSOCIATE OUTLIERS. and rather inviting, in the view of the marauding " ontliers."
One of Hubbs's associates, and another outlier, who Some time after sunset, three men, who appeared also had served under Cunningham, was called Moulto be travellers, rode up to the door, and requested trie. On one occasion four of this gang determined on lodging for the night. It was refused; the aspect of the going to rob the house of Andrew Lee, who lived visitors being not prepossessing enough to overcome the at Lee's Ferry, on the Saluda. Lee had several powfear of strangers, natural enough among women in these erful dogs, that were his protectors at night; and to troublous times. “Hubbs then rode up close to the provide against any sudden emergency, he had given kitchen door, in which Mrs. Gaunt was standing, and arms to his negro men. asked her for a mug of water.
The party came to the house, and Moultrie, by some As the matron turned back to get the water, Hubbs, means, managed to effect an entrance. He found himwho had dismounted, sprang into the kitchen after her. self seized and grappled with by the strong arms of She handed the water to him, and at the same moment Lee; they struggled desperately, and fell together upon discovered the arms he wore concealed in his dress. a bed. Lee had the mastery, and held his enemy down, She instantly communicated the fact to her husband, while he cried to his wife to take the axe and knock the who lost no time in closing and securing the doors. | robber on the head. The trembling woman obeyed;
Finding himself thus cut off from his companions, but in her agitation, aiming the first blow, it fell upon and in peril of capture, the outlaw drew his pistol, with the hand of her husband. an oath, and presented it at the breast of Gaunt. He shrieked with pain, but did not relax his hold; At that instant Hannah Gaunt, the old man's daughter the woman repeated the blow with more judgment and -a young woman possessed of the powerful frame and effect; the pole of the axe was driven into the outlaw's unflinching courage of her father, sprang suddenly for- head, breaking his skull; and Lee always maintained ward, and threw up the pistol; its contents entered the that a portion of the brains flew out, and stuck to the ceiling, and she closed in a desperate struggle with the headboard of the bedstead. intruder.
He threw Moultrie on the floor, supposing him dead, Hannah succeeded in throwing Hubbs on the floor, sprang to his feet, called his negroes, and with them where she held him with an iron gripe, notwithstanding and his dogs, rushed upon the other marauders. They bis violent struggles to release himself, and his plunging fled from the conflict, and Lee nearly succeeded in caphis spurs again and again into her dress and her turing Ned Turner. limbs. While the Amazonian damsel thus pinned him On his return from the chase he found Moultrie alive; down, her father snapped two loaded muskets at and before day he had so far recovered his strength his head; but both missing fire, he “clubbed " the last, that his captor found it necessary to bind him. He was and with it beat his foe till the stock was broken into taken to Ninety-six, tried, condemned and hanged. It fragments, and the barrel bent; then seizing a stone of was stated that his skull was so badly fractured, "it fourteen pounds' weight, dashed it at his head. moved up and down with every breath he drew."
The party outside made a few unsuccessful attempts Hall Foster, one of the outlaws who went on this to force the doors, and, ruffianlike, unwilling to meet an expedition, was the beau of the outliers. While runarmed man in full encounter, fired through the window ning every day for his life, and skulking at night in the and wounded the brave old man; breaking his arm and forest, he wooed and won the affections of a nymph of sending a ball into his side. Another ball grazed the the woods, and married her. His career was closed by temple of the heroic girl. The wounds Gaunt had a long aim, and possibly a random ball. received rendered him powerless, and supposing the Foster sometimes presented himself at the house of outlaws intended to break into the house and murder Colonel Cleary, on account of old acquaintance. The hiin, he yielded to the entreaties of his wife and daughter, colonel had figured as a loyalist at the battle of Musto lose not a moment in getting out of their reach. He grove's Mills, but after the peace, deporting himself as succeeded in escaping unobserved from the rear of the l an honest man, he was allowed to return quietly to his
plantation on the Saluda; his “delusion” being pitied | fence, where he laid hid. He seated himself deliberateand forgiven.
ly, while the robber dandy was wheeling and curvetting, At one time a patriot named Isaac Norrell was an and with a rifleman's rest took a rifleman's aim! He inmate of Cleary's house, and ill with fever and ague. fired: the ball entered Foster's head between the eyes ; Foster heard that his old comrade had given shelter to he fell to the ground, and his charger fled without a this man, was very angry at it, and announced his reso- rider! After lingering in pain a few hours, this favorite lution of riding up to the house to give Norrell “a companion of Cunningham through peril and bloodshed, cursing "-taking it for granted that the invalid was not ceased to be numbered among the sons of men. able to harm him or defend himself. Norrell, however, Jesse Grey was the last of the outliers, and his life who had heard of his intention, was able that day to was often in danger from the rifles of pursuers. Carewalk about, and was prepared for his enemy with a less of peril, and confident in the speed and strength of good rifle.
his gallant horse, he would often throw himself in their Cleary managed to send word to Foster of the danger way, on purpose to show them, according to the slang he would incur by approaching his house. The ruffian of the day—"a clear pair of heels.” The establishment had no desire to encounter an armed adversary, and of peace and good order at length drove him from his accordingly halted, when about a hundred and fifty wild forest haunts. He went to Nova Scotia, and it yards from the house, and began corvetting his horse, was ascertained, to the astonishment of all who heard by way of showing his reckless courage. Norrell had of it, that he there actually lived and died an honest warily observed his movements from a corner of the 'man!
A WALLACHIAN TRAGEDY.
PEOPLE appear to live at Bucharest solely to amuse gardens towards sunset, smoking a cigar, and listening themselves, and in this respect it reminded us very to a divine melody of Strauss, played gloriously well by inuch of Paris. The day begins with promenades and an Austrian band. “ Would you like to hear a romance music in the delightful gardens belonging to the town, in real life ? would you like to know what a little devil where an excellent band seems to be always playing, she is? Come and sit down in the shade, order a couand where the Wallachian ladies love to exhibit the ple of ices, and I will tell you all about her. Look at freshness of their foreign toilettes, and to dazzle with her now," continued our friend, one of those men their native charms. The latter are by no means to be whom one meets so often in foreign society, who seem despised, and we should recommend armor of proof to to know everybody's business and everybody's secrets, any susceptible young gentleman who takes his airing “Look at her now, with her large black eyes, and her in the afternoon through the fashionable resorts of raven hair, and her pretty features, sunken a little with Bucharest. The artillery brought into position is truly late hours and excitement, but still mignonne, and formidable_eyes of sparkling black, or, more danger-charming to a degree. Not another woman in the garous still, the deepest and softest blue; masses of dark dens could wear that simple white dress and little white waving hair; rich, deep-toned complexions, and mag- bonnet, relieved only by a red ribbon, and yet look so nificent Juno-like forms, are ready to rout him utterly brilliant as she does! What a coquette it is! How at a moment's notice. True, he has the option of sur- she smiles and shows her pretty teeth, and waves that rendering at discretion; and to do these Latin ladies little white hand. There is blood upon it, though. justice, they treat their prisoners with considerable Yes, mon cher, as surely as if she herself had pointed clemency and kindness. All day long goes on fiddling, the weapon. I have known her from a girl; she is not and flirting, and mischief-making, and then people dine so very young now, but some women never get old; and go to the Opera, and come to the gardens again ; she has plenty of mischief before her yet. Sappraand the same agreeable but not very edifying process is mento! I like her, too-she is such a thorough-going practised far into the night. And this sort of thing, vixen! One of those men is her husband, mon cher : only changing the scene with the variations of the cli- she makes love to him when there is nobody else by, or mate, week after week, month after month, and year when she wishes to pique some of his friends. “Marafter year. No wonder society is pretty well demoral. guerite,' I said to her one day, scarcely two years ago, ised at Bucharest; no wonder the Wallachian boyards ‘do you wish all mankind to be at your feet? Is your are sunk overhead in debt and steeped in profligacy.! vanity so insatiable? Will you not spare poor Adolphe, Pleasure is indeed a pleasant thing, but its effects are and be content with one brother? Fritz is your devoted always the same, when it is made the chief business of slave. He is the elder, do what you will with him, but life.
let the poor boy off for my sake; he is my friend. “Do you see that lady talking with such vivacity to Marguerite, I know him thoroughly-you will break his those three gentlemen under the tree ?” asked a very heart.' agreeable acquaintance as we were strolling through the “She drew her slight figure up, and looked as wicked
as she alone can look, whilst she replied— No, no; a | how she made Adolphe give his word of honor that he thousand times, no. I will put my foot on his neck-I would never lift his hand against his brother's life-she will humble him. He said Baronne B— was hand made it the condition of her love; she told Adolphe somer and cleverer than me, did he? Baronne B she would be bis-and his alone. The boy was wild that great foolish blonde. I will teach him to know with happiness; he was young, as I have already told ine; and then let him break his heart, if he will be you, my friend, and a sad fool. He raved about her all such a fool. Come to me to-morrow; I will show you the evening; I was very tired of him, I assure you, by how I manage him, you are all alike, you men.
bedtime. He walked all night under her windows-it .“I put Adolphe on his guard; I reasoned with him, was fortunate he could not see inside-and next day and warned him. Sapristie, we must help each other; she was driving out with Fritz, and distant as ever with such women are the natnral foes of our kind. But it my very ridiculous young friend. So she played brother was of no use; Adolphe would not believe a word I said against brother, and made each believe the other was to him. She had given him a rosebud and one of her the only obstacle to his own happiness ; but more gloves, and he was mad about them. Que voulez-vous ? especially she delighted in her triumph over poor the boy loved her—as a man loves only once-with all | Adolphe, and, as she had vowed that she would do, his heart and soul; not like you and me, mon cher, who when I remonstrated with her, she did indeed put her are men of the world, but like a fool. Of course, if I foot on the boy's neck. This could not go on. The couldn't save him, it was no use distressing myself brothers would have fought a hundred times, but for about the affair. These things must take their course. the word of honor they had passed. The Hungarian I went with him to her house, and I watched her as never forfeits his word. They were of the old Hun. one watches a cat playing with a mouse. Poor boy! Igarian noblesse; rich, handsome, gallant, and devoted. saw in two seconds it was all over with him, and that Must such men be sacrificed to a woman's momentary he was that woman's slave. How cleverly she did it; triumph ? Must the noblest, truest heart break because first greeting him kindly, then talking about his brother a little devil in muslin chooses to play the fool? It is -his rival, mark you, and a devilish handsome one, no business of yours and mine. Our hearts don't break too—and so making him thoroughly angry and half quite so easily, and I, for one, never allow love-making wild ; and lastly, pressing his hand at parting, and ask- to interfere with dinner; but Adolphe and his brother ing, with a glance at me (as if she hadn't begged me were très peu philosophes, and, would you believe it, in herself to come), why she never could see him alone ? their madness they threw the dice to decide which of The boy's Hungarian blood couldn't stand it; if Mar- the two should commit suicide. It must have been a guerite had told him to lie down and die at her feet, ghastly main, and although she does look very pretty he would have been fool enough to obey her, and she this evening, with the light of the setting sun behind would bave laughed at him afterwards. As we walked her, I think you will agree with me that the stake was away, he raved about her to me. His features writhed hardly worth the hazard. I never knew of it till after when he mentioned her name; it was quite a study. I all was over. It appears that the loser was to have a But, to tell the truth, I had rather it had been any one year's grace by consent, and during that year to be unthan Adolphe. So the affair went on, and she played molested in his love by his rival. I remarked that one brother against the other, till they were both mad | Adolphe rushed suddenly into the deepest extravagance, with jealousy, and the younger was capable of any and appeared, what they call at Paris, to 'manger? his thing—anything. It was an ugly business, my friend, fortune very rapidly, also to have rid himself comI was present when they quarrelled, not about her, but pletely of his rival, but this I thought was owing to the a foolish dispute at cards. Blows passed; they were superior good sense or greater caprice of the elder mad; they must have been mad. A challenge was brother. I wonder whether he ever told Marguerite! given and accepted. Will you believe it, they went out I sometimes think that she knew it all the time. For to fight! these two brothers that had clung to the the first few months I verily believe Adolppe congratusame mother's breast. We managed the affair quietly ; lated himself on his success. For one year of her we drew the ball from each of their pistols. Judge of society he was content to barter life—and more than their fury, especially of that of Adolphe, when the life, too, perhaps—but as time drew on, I remarked his fraud was discovered. Was I not right? I respect the cheek grow paler, and his brow more haggard day by laws of arms; I have been on the ground' myself day. Moreover, even then she could not resist the more than once; but brothers, you see, mon cher, c'était pleasure of making him unhappy. I tell you, my un peu trop fort. More and worse would have hap- friend, that woman has no more heart than & stone. pened, but I entreated Margnerite to interfere. Would One morning I knew it all. Adolphe had spent his to God I had let it alone! Forgive me—would I had last florin, and blown his brains out. He left a letter brought my handsome Adolphe home shot through the for me, and I learnt everything. He kept his word, heart— kismet' says our neighbor the Turk. I some- you see, and behaved quite like a gentleman. They times think there is such a thing as destiny. How she found her glove on his body. Fritz never came back. managed Fritz I know not. He was a cool, resolute I do not think she minded that very much. It is fellow, and fond as he was of her, not a man that any scarcely six months ago: do you think she looks very woman on earth could make a fool of; of course, she sorrowful now? Bah! my friend: let us smoke ons liked him the better of the two. But Adolphe—I know more cigar, and then go to the Opera.”
-SHAKSPEARE has always been pursued by a pack of com- , where he exclaims : mentators, who have fastened upon him with hound-like
“There where I have garner'd up my heart; tenacity and fierceness. Profound, indeed, must be the obli
Where either I must live, or bear no life; vion of the grave, if Shakspeare rests in peace. There isn't
The fountain from which my current rung, a learned man anywhere, that doesn't want to throw a stone
Or else dries up; to be discarded thence !" at him ; there isn't a vain man, or an ambitious one, that we are gravely informed that "garner'd up," means “treadoesn't try to send his name floating down the stream of sured up.” time with that of his. Some, even, audaciously attempt to In those tremendous lines which Constance heaps with go before, and show him the way to immortality. Some such bitter vehemence upon Austria : play the usher, and pit their own importance against that
“Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward; of his. To associate one's name with that of Shakspeare is
Thou little valiant, great in villainy; an epidemic among a certain class. There is an itch, which
Thou ever strong upon the stronger side; might be known as the Shakspearean itch. Some want to bang their learning upon him—to sport in foot-notes, and amble along on the same page with the mighty one ; others
Thou wear a lion's hide! Dofr it for shame,
And hang a call's skin on those recreant limbs," to slip their names along with his, by a Boswell sort of legerdemain. Think of going down to posterity in this wise : we are absolutely referred to a note at the foot of the page, “ Blair's Shakspeare," just as a certain reverend succeeded, which, with unexampled and incredible simplicity, explains by a dextrous trick, in slipping betore, and bowing Gibbon this passage thus : down the ages as “ Milman's Gibbon."
“Constance means to call him a coward ; she tells him that But, indeed, we had hoped that the race of Shakspearean the skin of the lion's prey would suit his recreant limbs betcommentators was extinct. Not so, however. They spring ter than that of a lion." up day by day. They come thickly, even now. If they! We could multiply instances of Mr. Singer's astute edikeep on, they will eventually smother the Poet altogether. I torship, like these, through pages. We will content ourself He already staggers under the mass of litter they accumu with one more example : late upon him. It would crush out of being any other man.
" In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, The tenacity and patience of his enemies, make up for their
But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, insignificance. Ant-like, they move mountains by infinites
Obscures the show of evil! In religion, imals, and may succeed even yet in “ making Ossa like a
What damned error but some sober brow
Will bless it, and approve it with a text?" wart." Centuries hence some industrious antiquarian will disembowel him to an astonished world, from the moun One would suppose that the “meanest capacity" could tain of rubbish under which he now threatens to disappear. comprehend this passage ; not so believed the editor. He
A new edition of Shakspeare, with a new annotator, has just takes pains to tell us that “gracious," means “ pleasing, appeared in London, which outdoes all that has gone before. winning favor," and that “approve" is in the sense of to The annotator is the most sanguinary and mendacious we “justify it." ever read. He is so determined to thrust himself into the The book is called, “The Works of William Shakspeare, attention of the reader, that, at the slightest provocation, or with Notes, by S. W. Singer.” This is very modest. with none at all, he slips before the text and flaps his fool's Mr. Singer might have reversed it, and said, “Essays of cap in your eyes. He can hardly let a line escape without S. W. Singer, with Notes, by William Shakspeare.” That putting his teeth in it. If there's nothing to explain, he would have been giving precedence where Mr. Singer evi. explains all the same. He hangs vast stores of learning dently thinks precedence is due. We certainly expect to upon a preposition. If he wants to say anything, he is see some commentator follow out this idea yet-take never at a loss for an excuse. He touches the most insigni- for himself the body of the page, and give the foot to ficant word, and out there flows a stream of erudition, in Shakspeare. which he disports exultingly. We are stopped at “proper man," to be told that it means, "a tall, comely, or well-pro
- "Oil Paintings, with Rich Gilt FRAMES," is the siga portioned man;" “imperious.” is annotated as "command that obtrudes upon the attention of the Broadway promeing, stately;" “our fast intent,” is gravely explained to
nader, not a thousand yards from the St. Nicholas. The mean, “our determined resolution; “to let,” is to “hinder;"
vender is a shrewd fellow. He knows how to put the “flourish,” is “ ornament;" and so on through the whole
attractive side foremost. It is not the wretched canvas work. In the passage from the lines on Dover Cliff,
which is to tempt the buyer—the Rich Gilt Frames are the
inducement. People want ornaments for their walls. A " I'll look no more Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
showy frame is just the thing, and if a painting is incidentTopple down headlong,"
ally thrown in, why well and good. And such outbursts of
ornament and elaboration as some of these same frames we are stopped to be told that “topple," means "tumble.” The familiar line :
are! They dazzle with their gorgeousness, and no doubt,
utterly captivate the many who lack “the delicate sense." "I am nothing, if not critical,"
As for the paintings that are attached to them, heaven save is explained : “critical, i, e., censorious or cynical.” In the mark! one needs to see them in order to thoroughly Othello's touching speech :
comprehend how poor such attempts can really be. In the “Had it pleased Heaven to try me with affliction," collection we have in view, there are copies of Cole's Voy.