H i
VOLUME X.
LENOIR. JT. C, WEDNESDAY. MARCH 11, 1885.
NUMBER C5.
"3 ...
Wallace.
Bros.
3TATESVILLE, N. O.
WlioIessLlS DoalerS
ieneiali Merchandise.
-tot-
Largest Warehouse
and best facili
ties for han
dling
Dried Fruit. Ber
ries, etc.. in
the State.
Respectfully , -
Wallace
August 27th, 1884.
J. U. SPAI11H0DR,
Cnduate Battissrs Dental" Collsgs, 1
rj io Impure Material for
; Filliae Teeth.
Work as Low as Good
Work can be Done.r
Patients from a'dista&ca may
aroid delar by informiiig ,
kim at what time they I . ?
propose coming.
F. LEE CLINE, I
lTTORKITiT - LAW,
xxxcxxonsr, n. o.
XIDLlUrJD JOrJC3,
iniiilirjiiailiT;
JLElfom, IT. C.
CLniTOIT A. CILLEY,
a tonwyW
osioiLiri XT. O.'
Bros
Dentist
LETTER FBOS THE SEA-SldE.
j.- .. i .-.
"Wilmington, Feb. 28.
Mr. Editor :Tn one of my first
letters I promised to give your read
ers a view on board a vessel ; this
morning I will make good that
-promise. "Ye will go to the foot of
1)o' street where we will find a
Urit ivsh vepsel, and of the largest!
clus that can come to the port of'
Wilmington. She is registered for
C49 tns burthen 1,298,000. pounds'
cn carry across th ocean 3245
bales of cotton, or 4635 ba.rels of
rosin. A cargo" of cotton would! be
alued at about ill, 500 a cargo f
rosin about $6500. " I '
Across the stern of the vessel we
read her name, Harriet Campbell.
Now let us imagine ourselves taking
a view of this vessel entirely above
the surface, clear her deck of masts,
riS2'nS tc, and she would look
like the half of a huge watermelon
lying on the back. In length she
measures 180 feet, in width at cen.
tre 42 feet, bight from keel to rim
around deck 40 feet, or twice the
hight of usual two-storey buildings.
Now raise your eyes and view the
masts and rigging, two masts, each
120 feet high and 26 inches in di
ameter at base, one 90 feet, these
masts are made of timbers jointed
together after the manner of flag
poles, only far more secure. ! To
these masts are fastened huge cross
pieces, the two lower ones 42 feet in
length, about 14 inches in diameter
at the centre, and gradually tapers
to a small poiht at the ends. These
pieces are sYnaller and shorter to
wards the top of the masts. To
hold the masts and rigging to their
proper .places requires about ! 205
ropes averaging 50 feet in length
10250 feet of roping. fFrom these
masts 2350 yards of sails' float to the
breezes of old ocean, and on average
time these breezes will move the ves
sel across the Atlantic in 40 davs.
Some times these ropes, sails; etc,
'get out of order. Then a sailor whose
special business : it is to climb the
masts must go up by means of rope
ladders and re-arrange them. At
the top of the masts a nian looks
like a five year old boy. This climb
ing of the masts is tho most danger
ous work onboard a vessel as it must
be done at all times, even while tho
roughest storms are ragitig o'er the
bosom of the great deep. At time.--when
the sea is very rough and the
vessel being tossed abeut like a cork'
lies as it were on the side these tall
masts hag far out over the water.
Imagine the sailor clinging with ene
hand ; o the trembling timbers,
while with the other he arranges the
disordered gearing. I have heard
them tell of being thrown from the
mast at these times and how they
battled with the waves until taken
on board. Just here I will say that
a person wllnet I sink as quickly in
salt, as in fresh water. ,
But just tfiere over the bow of the
vessel haDg her anchors each weigh-,
ing 1250 pounds, and each fastened
to chain 80 fathoms in length, 480
feet weight of chain 55 pounds to
the fathom 4400 pounds, i The,
links in this chain are 6 inches long,
If inches in diameter, and the chain
is wound about a windlass the shaft
of which' Is, 28 inches in diameter
as large as any of your old mill
wheel shafts. These anchors hold
the old ship "both sure and stead
fast" no wonder Paul used it to
illustrate the nature of the j chris
tian's faith. Both anchors are used
only in times of extreme danger,
one will hold the ship steady in or
dinary gales. The anchor is almost
in shape of the letter "T" with ends
of top part of letter curving toward
the Btem and flattened like the blade
of the eld "Ame's shorel'? with wtich
you and I hare so often thrown blue
and red mud.
But there, by the masts on either
side, are made secure two ; large
casks ; these, contain 115. gallons
each of fresh water for cooking and
drinking -during the royage. For
fear that this will not be enough for
13 men to use in case of prolonged
Toyage several' barrels of crater are
taken on board, U
! Now yi 't look at i the cabin, ? near
the rear or stern of the-vessel. A
house about 26x6, and;9 feet m
height with flat roof and sky-light
intiw; this IsiTidedntoS or 10
;cozy little rooms ; - the Bleeping
apartments of the. sailors, furn.shed
with necessary articles of the toilet.
The captain's room looks like a par
lors, nicely is it furnished. To use
the captain's own words "the ocean
rocks me to sleep at night and makes
me dream of the little crib of baby
days." '' j' i '.
- Next we look at the "galley? the
kitchen and dining room, size 12 x
18 feet, kitchen fnrnished just like
any other, only the stove has an iron
frame about the top to keep the ves
sels from turning over when the sea
, is rough. The dining room has its
tables and chairs, but often when
old ocean is '"wrathy" they have to
eat like thostj pco.f did hefore dish
es were made1 "with hands and fin
gers." :
Next we will notice the apparatus
for, governing the course of the ship;
these consists of a wheel about four
feet in diameter around the shaft of
which winds or unwinds the chain
fastened to t
the rudder
le rudder, and by which
is .made' to direct the
ves.sui in
wheelman
whatever direction the
niay Uirect it to
o.
Behold also the ships,
which
vet
though the
be so
great
are they turned about with a very
i-mall helm" Jaives 3o 4v.
There back at the centre of the
ship we iiud an opening 10x12 feet.
Through this we descend into, the
'"hold," or! what a boomer', - would
term the cellar of the ship. When
standing or? the bottom timbers of
this j our heads are 11' feet under
water. . In this vast space the cargo
is stored away. The packing away
begins in the centre of the hold'and
proceeds towards the ends of the
ship; by thus beginning the cargo
packs itself, as the ends are higher
than the centre. To look at the
tremendous beams, bolts etor, that
arc used in the construction of a
ship one would hardly think that
she could so soon be made "a poor
old fit rand ed wreck."
A look at the sailors. What dirty
fellows ! "Tars' sure enough ; for
they look as if they had been rolled
in tar and then slid up and down on
a board till they glistened. Poor
fellows ! How much do we owe to
them for many of the blessings of
life that they bring to us from dis
tant lands.
The captain is a well dressed fel
low the aristocrat of the number..
I'ow saucy he is; cursing and swear
ing jut the poor sailors who seemed;
to be working for'life. I felt like
"spanking" him. I did tell him
that perhaps they would, do. as he
wanted them if he would use gentler
language.': To "curse like a sailor"
js sjniply to reach the high-tide mark
in profanity. But there are some
good men among sailors, and when
we find one we find a man who has
the j respect and confidence of, his
comrades.
But it is a very mean thing that
canliot be turned into some good,
andjln old sea captain tells that he
onceknew a preacher who thanked
God that the sailors were, cursing ;
hence if the divine was sincere there
must have been apparent good in it,
especially for him. I wjll give the
incident and leave the reader to his
own opinion of the sincerity or'
fright of the parson. The preacher
had started across the ocean and
when far out at sea a terrible storm
came up. Naturally tho preacher
sought comfort in asking the cap
tain as to the danger of being lost.
The captain told him that there was
no danger of being wrecked or lost
as long as the sailors were cursing.
In possession of this information the
"doubting Thomas" would tramp
back and forth from sailors to cap
'tain eagerly watching this immoral
and satanic barometer as it measur
ed the force of the storm. When
the storm was raging in its wildest
fury he listened for a second to the
cursing, then running back to the
captain he said "thank the Ixrd
they're 'cursing yet."
But truthful sailors say that 'tis a
fact that when" there is great danger
of being wrecked at sea there is no
'cursing among the sailors. All are
quiet and subdued while he that
rideth in the storm is blowing his
breath orer the bosom of the mighty
deep. - .v.
- This brings us to remember that
often a poor sailor sickens and dies
"when far out on the ocean. Then
comes the seaman's "sad burial ser
rice. The dead man's body is sew
ed up in heary canvass cloth, to the
feet are fastened leaden weights al
most as heavy as the man, himself ;
the body is then placed on a smooth,
plank, the centre of which rests on
the railing of the vessel and while
in this position the burial service is
read after which the plank is raised
by two sailors designated for the sad
duty; and the body, plunges into its
deep grave never to rise until the
morn of the resurrection vyhen the
sea shall be called upon to give up
her dead. What a sad burial. No
tender parent' there, noj- sister's
quiet prayer, indeed "there is a lack
of woman's tears." o tlcar one
can visit the place in twilight;" dewy
hour and breathe there an
evening
prayer, or ; leave there a full blown
flewer. j ' ' .
Now we leave the vessel and turn
to other things. A most interesting
study at a seaport is the great varie
ty of human life with w!
cornels- in contact. . On nnv
dch
one k
uay one
can siee vessels -from nearlyj
luropean countries most
all the
usually
from ' England,
Germany,' Fiance,
Noi way, -Denmark, Italy and Rus
sia. Then wc see them from the
West Indies and South jArnciica.
Thierc is always a rush when it is
known that a West Indies fruit ves
sel has reached' her wharf, laden
with lemons, oranges, banainis, pine
jjpples, cocoanuts, etc. On board
the$e vessek you see meii from many
nations and each has peculiar char
acteristics that will identify him at
puce. ' - .j
Here comes a squabby, jostling,
jelly-like, beer-gurgling, generous.
'i
'overly covetous Germ
as if from a land of
an. He looks
materialistic
endeney. ' I
There goes with a quick, V elastic
step, the raw-boned, inuscular Eng
lish sailor; he is dart'iii'.' about the
ipity as if his keen eye wassearching
out th Q-i eon's businesF. tic walks
he talks as if from a land of pro
gressive intejligence. .
There you ee a slovenly, awk
ward, swathy " looking fellow, with
expresjioiiless eye, and countenance
with deadened pallor ; he is a Span
ish sailor, a fit representative of a
land where individual thought has
been stifled for centuries and mental
prowess made stagnant by the de
crees of tyrannical ecclesiasticism.
The Portugese sailor, in looks and
.- -
manner, is very much after the style
of the Spaniard, but manifests a
more daring or independent spirit
than his national neighborj from the
f;iet .'that so manv- of them desert
. - . ' . i .
their vessels when they reach
shores ;ind seek homes among
our
our
people.
Then comes the musical Italian,
low, heavy built, very dark with
poetic, tinge to glance of eye nd
tone, of voice he will give you
plenty of music and then after good
old Methodist fashion, will pass
around his hat for a half dime, and
unless you desire a satanic; blessing
in rapid speech you had better not
get too much music without throw
ing in he will brand you as a fraud
which would be too near-, the truth
to bo palatable. j
There is another fellow who looks
as if he had stolen some one's milk,
crock, cut it squarely intwo and had
taken the bottom half thereof,
painted it red, put a red tassel in
the centre and wearing it for a hat.
It is almost as bad a sham j as some
of the lad ies wear now-o-days. This
last named chap is a Turk and will
try to sell you relics from Jerusalem.
Other interesting characters are,
the Russian, Norwegian, South
American, Indian, to whose com-
piexions tne copper cent; Dears a
vcy striking resemblance.
Another thin j no ticeab
e among
the people at and around seaports is
how they adopt in conversation the
language - or peculiar terms of ex
pression used among sailors. The
common conversation of the sailor
becomes the "slang" of the popu
lace, vor instance in speaking ef
a man who breaks in business they
say "he is si ok ing," "his head's un
der water." Or of mak'og a "cor
ner" in a bargain they say, "I'll tack
on him." If two fellows get into a
quarrel you'll hear such language as
"I'll go aboard you" or 'I'll wieck
you." They say much more than
they mean the best fighters say the
least. In these days we need more
work and less gush. j
Now, Mr. Editor and readers, this
will close my regular descriptive
letters from the seaside will give
the remainder in broken F doses. I
thank you sincerely for the space
you have given me in your excellent
Eaper. The sketches have been!
urriedly written, therefore imper
fectly. 1 'am conscious of having
made mistakes, but if none criticise
-but those who are free from error.
then my critics will be few. If in
them you've found merit applaud ;
is demerit spread over it tne gor
geous mantle of charity "for blessed
are the merciful for they shall ob
tain mercy." So one and all ; when
a life of error is done may gems of
joy, and pearls of peace sparkle in
your "crown of rejoicing'
. Hebxdox Tuttlb.
MR. BOWER'S SPEECH ON TKfc EX-COHFED-EBiTE
PEHS10M BILL IN
THE SENATE.
Reasons Why This Humana Act Shculcf
Commend Jtseif to Every Patriotic Per
son Pnpar Gralituda to tho Brava. ;
Mr. Bower said : . :
Mb. President : Observation
and study have taught me there ex
ist here, as elsewhere, two distinct
classes of legislators, characterized
by the motives which impel them
to action. I hardly know by what
terms to designate them unless we
distinguish them' as the realists and
the sentimentalists.' To one class
everything that is useless and practi
cal addresses itself with special force,
while to the other the strongest im
pulse to action is often naked, blind,
and uncalculating sentiment. The
first are always painstaking and par
simonious, though generally safe
representatives, while the latter,
though loftv and disinterested in
motive, are usually speculative! and
unreliable repositories of publid
trust. -The first are all facts and
t figures, the latter all feeling and
hearf. The latter move to themu-.
sic of the noblest passions of the
human breast, the former keep time
to -the "eloquent chink" of dollars
and cents. These two distinct, but
-by no means reprehensible types of
representatives, are strikingly ilhjs-.
trated in the occupauts of this
chamber. They exist as checks and
counter-chocks upon each other.
uBut distinctions are invidious, and
II shall npt enter upon so delicate a
classification. . I have attempted in
Lmy short legislative career to blend
as far as possible in happy composi
tion the two prominent traits of
both classes, and thus bring to bear
in my official conduct a proper de
gree of mingled economy and liber
ality. The measure before us is to
be settled by ah appeal,, to the heart
or to tke purse. To my mind it
presents the strongest merit, found
ed, as it is, in the most rigid justice
and the noblest sentiment. A pre
liminary question that claims, our
investigation is our financial ability
to meet theexpenditiire contemplat
ed by this act. Much as our hearts
may plead for the "measure if upon a
calm survev of our .situation we find
ourselves .unable, pecuniarily, to
meet its demands, it should fall to
the ground. A donation that op
presses the giver, . is not a gratuity,
but an exaction. Thanks, however,
to the wise counsels that have pre
vailed in the past, such is not our
condition. If the report of our
Treasurer be at all reliable we have
never been iii a better situation to
respond to the dictates of kindness
and benevolence . than now. Our
treasury is overflowing, while the
rate of taxation was never lower
than to-day. It would almost seem
that, that hideous bugbear, a sur
plus, is upon us.
Our State debt is a mere bagatelle
anticipating the favorable action
of Congress in respect to the Blair
bill, we are soon to be relieved of
any contribution to the educational
fund, or at any rate our appropria
tions in this direction are to be
greatly diminished. Wre are told by
those authorized to speak and com
petent to advise, that a levy of ten
cents upon one hundred dollars val
uation of property will be sufficient
to meet the obligations of our State
government the coming year. Our
financial status as a State is indeed
enviable. ., We have passed beyond'
the pale of any momentary stringen
cy, or even embarrassment. In1
point of State-credit and pecuniary
ability, we are as prominent, as lofty
and as fixed figuratively speaking,
as the rocks of Gibralter.
Was there ever a time then so pro
pitious 'as this for inaugurating . a
measure of kindness, of love, -of
.meagre chanty, to the limbless he
roes and bereaved heroines of the
"Lost Cause." Now when the lapse
of twenty years has to a great extent
neutralized or at least . modified the
passions and prejudices of the late
war, and 'gilded with the mellow
halo of distances, the glorious
achievements of that memorable
contest, now when the bickerings of.
party are for the time hushed, now
when the nation stands tip-toe
awaiting the herald of a new section
al love and a new restored union,
now when our beloved old common
wealth has. arisen in her might and
shaken from her limbs the manacles
of sloth, inactivity and want, ! now
when our hearts swell with sympa
thy and our coffers o'erflow with
money, now is the time, the accept
ed time, to dp meagre justice toj the
unfortunate living and the unfor
gotten dead: It is true we can never
hope to 'emulate, the national muni
ficence in this regard. Circum-
scribed as we are in territorial ex
tent, and in wealth, and in sources
of revenue our pensions musti ap
pear to our national representatives
as trifling and unimportant, but it
is none the less our duty to bestow
them. '; j
And who arc to be the recipients
of our bounty ? The Confederatej sol
dier occupies a strange position in
modern history. Though conquer
ed he is theoretically and practically
on a plane With his conqueror. j His
defeat was the restoration of ' com
plete national citizenship. ,In the
exercise of every right and in the
enjoyment of every national l)Oon
save one, he is the peer of his an
tagonist who wore the "blue." One
thing only marks a distinction. jThe
one is the ward of the nation, hon
ored for his services and compensat
ed for his sufferings, the other is
banned for his gallantry, and for his
devotion to his' home excluded from
the generosity of his government. I
invite your minds to the contempla
tion of the' contrast. Two men from
the bosom of the same family, jnur
jshed at one common breast jstep
forth in life. The fortune o one
carries him north of the Mason and
Dixon line, the other lingers itk the
sunny clime of his southern home,
happy mid the scenes of his natiyi
ty. The years glide by,' and' at
length war's dread, alarm is heard in
the land. Prompt to the dictates
of duty, and responsive to th call
of his country, each buckles on his
sword and marches to the front! In
battle they meet, they conteudjthey
bleed. Each leaves a limb ,on the
field of battle, a souvenir to jiuty
and patriotism. What is the result?
He who fought under the stars; and
stripes, returns to his home, and an
applauding country welcomes jhim
with extended arms -to its gratitude
and its love, y Nor is this all. The
treasury of that country is open to
him and a pension of two hundred
aud odd dollars per annum secures
him against want and discomfort.
How different it is with the poor
weather-beaten Confederate, j He
too returns to his home, but 'tis to
a home made barren and desolate by
the ravages of war to a family in
poverty and rags, to a State too 'poor
to extend even a pittance to allevi
ate his misfortunes. Doubtless he
exhibited upon'the field all the en
durance and ! indomitable , pluck
which constitute the true -soldier-.
The fiery dashing spirit of Ney, the
unyielding courage of Turenneiwere
his. But alas ! with his wounds are
unpensioned and chivalry unrequit
ed. j
But I rejoice that this act, iakeii
in connection with one passed a few
years since, will to some extent re
move the inequality of which I have
spoken. By an act passed in the
year 1876, we have sent an eloqueut
and touching
message to
the blind
soldiers of the State. To those un
fortunate heroes we have said :) We
cannot indeed restore to you1 ttyi
glorious blessing of sight. Tjo you
the ' cheering landscape an4 the
greeu fields that waken to ecstasy
the swelling heart of boyhood! shall
rest in memory only; as a sweet
dream of the past. But we have
seen your distress and our money is
yours. And, sir, believe me, though
shut out from the light of day and
wrapped in perpetual darkness, the
keen eye of gratitude will peer forth
from his soldier heart, and see in
undimmed light and unnlarred
beauty the form of his benefactor.
Then, sir, there is a moving pathos,
in the provisions of this act. Through
it we say to the unfortunate maimed
soldier : "Sir, we cannot give bacl
to you the limb lost in the carnage
of battle. Long since it has resolv
ed itself into its original dusk ' To:
us belongs not the power to bid na
ture's particles coalesce or reanimate
the cold and lifeless clay,: we cannot
restore the symmetry and grace of
manhoods form ; but a part at least
of our wealth shall be dedicated to
thy use ; and when this announce
ment shall go forth over all the
State, the halt 'the lame, the limb
less veterans shall in their hearts
leap with gladness and joy. , ; j
But, sir,, to me there is one fea
ture in this bill especially gratify
ing, and calculated ! to redeem it
from any possible adverse criticism.
I allude to that provision which
looks to the interests of the widows
of Confederate soldiers, those hon- .
ored ! relicts of dead heroes. It is no
less a kindness to these worthy wo- -men
than a tribute to those whose
treasured names they bear. And
whatmen they were ! What deeds
bUtJ "VIIU. . iv uuc iull new iuvub 4 l
Tlion- rrravoa mav Ya aat4n liTWn Of f FT Tt
field of battle and in almost every
consecrated plat' of ground from the
Potomac to the Atlantic ocean.
They dot our lowlands and our val leys
of the East, and how many of
thern alas! are nestling upon the
hill-tops and in the little vales that !
girt my own mountain home, f They
can how be affected neither by our
criticism nor our commendation.
Their good swords are rust,
Their bones are dust, '
Their spirits are with God, I trnst. ': !
Asj in life . their splendid deeds !
gave a lustre to Southern arms, and
lto the cause which they espoused.
so in death they have set a seal upn
their own and their country's glory.
Let us honor them anew by aiding
those whom they loved best, and.
around whom their dearest thoughts
clustered while upon earth.
Sketch of the Smith Family in CiUwill.
George Smith, Sr.,' was born, in j
Germany in May, A. D. 1768. His
father, -George or Henry, (not cer- ;
tain as to his given name,) came to
America with his family about 1778
and settled in Lincoln county, not
far from Lincolnton, where he raised
his family. . 1 I
George Smith, pr., was about ten
years old when his father landed in
thifr county. He grew up and mar-
ried in Lincoln county, N. C. j His I
wife's maiden name was Catherine
Raider. She was born in Sept. A. j
D. 1770. Soon after his marriage ,'
he moved to Caldwell county, then
Burke, and settled where M. D. r
Smith now lives, in the same house
in which he' lives. He raised eleven
children to be grown, seven boys ,
and four girls ; all of whom remov-1
ed to tho west except two, George
and Henry. j r.
Henry settle 1 where L. S. Hart- ;
ley, Esq., nowjlives. He raised a i
large family and died at a 'good old j
age.- '.;.' - I. . ; : - ' V Vj; .
I George Smith, Sr., died in 1851, im
aged 83 years. His wife had pre- .
ceded him. She diexl in 1845, aged ;
75 years. i :
; Their son, George Smith, Jr., was
born Oct. 10th, 1797 and married i
Susan Sherrill, daughter of Isaac!
Sherrill, Sr. She was born Nov.
6th, 1800. He settled where Rev.
G. D. Sherrill mow lives, lived there
a few years and moved' back .to his
fat hers, and , cared for his father;
and mother in' their old age,! where !
he continued to live until kis death;
He raised ten children to be grown,
seven boys and three girls. He died
March 22d, 1878, aged . nearly 82
years. His wife had preceded him,,
having died June 30th, 1876, aged
7G. ' . - .'- ' '
Their son, M. D. Smith, Esq.,
.was born January 1835, and married
Miss Sarah J. Cottrell, daughter' of
Wm. Cottrell, in Feb. 1859. She
was born in June, 1838. They set- " )
tied with the old people at the old
homestead, and cared for them in
the infirmities of old age, and still :
live at the same place, in the same -
hb)ise, with some improvements to
be sure. '
Hero are Rome singular facts. ,
(teorge Smith, Sr., in the house
where ' our fellow, citizen, M. .D. .
Smith, ) now lives, 2 miles from
Lenoir, abmit the year, 1807, raised
eleven children to be grown. He
lived to be 83 years old and his wife
75. His son George Smith, Jr.,
lived in the same house and raised
ten children to be grown. He lived
to be 81 years old, and bis wife 76.
Ilia son, "M. D. Smith, the present
owner and occupant of tne old
homestead, has nine children, and
there has never been a death in the
house except the four old people, ;
who all filled out the measure of
their three score and ten, and the
two old gentlemen more than four
score years each. Thea, like shocks
of corn fully ripe, they ' were gath-
ered to their v fathers, full of years
and with reputations unsullied. The
sum of the ages of the four old peo
ple is 315 years. ' '
' George Smith, Sr., purchased the
E lace from one Howell who had -uilt
the house and made some other
improvements as much as ' twenty
five years before Smith' purchased.
So the place has been settled at least
one hundred vears and there, has
never been a death, so far as I ,'havo
been able to learn, of a person under
75 years of , age, upon the . precises,
and there have been '. thirty children
raised in the house. ,r-
W. A. Pool.
Mr