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There are spots, however, in the vicinity of this river,

"Belov'd o'er all the world beside,"

over which in the early dawn of life, many who have followed me in my excursion, have roved with the free and careless step of boys-have stood in the ancient hall of their fathers-have seen the sun rise to call them out by day upon the upland lawn, and then have watched the shades of evening descend to gather them again around the domestic hearth-have visited from Sabbath to Sabbath, the lonely Chapel in the woods, opening its arms to receive them, like a mother's love, with its hope, and its sanctity-and have even pondered over the old tombstones, by which they had to pass, cradling their touching memorials of the dead in their youthful hearts. To all, then, to whom these fancies apply-who love occasionally, like pilgrims weary of a foreign land, to revisit the scenes of their childhood, or to hear again at a distance, even a faint echo, that will reopen the fountains of early memory, and bring back to their yearning souls, the recollected music of other days, perhaps I have not been a tedious or unprofitable guide; I, therefore, respectfully dedicate to them this humble token of my affectionate regard.

NUMBER FOUR.

"Few men there are, but can recite
A proper reason, why they write!"

A "very noble and approved good" writer in wishing to assign a good reason for his lucubrations very laconically remarks, "I must write!" So with my humble self, in again appearing before the public, upon a subject, that may, peradventure possess little or no interest for “the great majority," I am constrained to reiterate the excuse above given, and say, "I must write!" It is to me, what play, or any other stimulus is to many men-it affords me excitement-and keeps me from many a worse occupation. At all events, I feel it to be an innocent pastime, even if it confers no good upon mankind.

Thus much I have thought proper to say, because at the conclusion of my last number, I intimated that "A Day on Cooper River," was at an end. I really thought so then; for the sun that brightened my excursion, had, indeed, gone down upon the Western Branch, and all was Night! As in the course of nature, however, the same bright luminary rose on the morrow, and is now up again high in the heavens, gilding "in my mind's eye," with its rising beams several spots upon the Eastern Branch, I am disposed, if my indulgent readers will only bear with me yet a little, to commence another day with them, and endeavor to conduct them as agreeably as I can, through another portion of the same interesting river.

By referring to what has already been written, it will appear that Cooper River divides into its Eastern and Western branches, at a point about forty miles by water from the city, called the T. The western branch, for the more general accommodation of the planters, being the one generally taken by the Steamboat, and of which we have already written, but the Eastern Branch is no less bold and interesting, either in an agricultural or historical point of view. A few of its most prominent features, therefore, I propose to notice.

On entering the eastern branch from the T, we pass between the lands of the "Hagan" plantation, on the right, and lands of "Comingtee," on the left, already mentioned. Where the Hagan lands terminate, Mr. W. POSTELL INGRAHAM'S place begins.It is called "Benevento;" purchased of Dr. B. HuGER in 1839, originally a part of his paternal estate, the Hagan. When Mr. INGRAHAM purchased Benevento, he added to it a plantation called "Spring Hill," on the southern extremity of French Quarter Creek, purchased from EDWARD LAURENS, Esq., who bought it from Col. I'ON, originally settled and owned by Mr. THOMAS DARRINGTON. On this place there was a very sharp skirmish during the war, between a detachment of Marion's Brigade, and a corps of Cavalry under Tarleton's command. A very respectable old resident of St. Thomas' Parish, who is now enjoying a green old age, says he remembers when the bones of those who fell in the engagement, might be seen whitening in the sun!

French Quarter Creek runs immediately between these two places. It is a stream bold enough for a

vessel carrying 120 barrels of rice, to penetrate as far as Spring Hill landing, about five miles. This creek was formerly navigable much higher up, as far as Kerwen's, but it was stopt up by Mr. DARRINgton, who threw a dam across it, substituting a canal which he dug a mile and a half in length. This canal still remains, though much filled up and obstructed by fallen trees. The high road through St. Thomas' Parish passes on a bridge over it, near the fourteen mile stone from Calais. Calais, as my readers will remember, I explained in my first number, was the name given by Mr. LAURENS to Clement's Ferry, and is seven miles distant from the city.

French Quarter Creek took its name from the circumstance of many Huguenot families having settled in its vicinity. It is the outlet for several inland plantations, among the number is "Brabant," celebrated in history, not only as having been the seat of the late venerable Bishop SMITH, but also as having been the head quarters of Quarter Master Jack, during the war.

When it was ascertained that the British were approaching the place, the overseer, in the employ of Bishop SMITH, concealed all the silver, and other moveable articles. Quarter Master Jack, on his arrival, seeing so well appointed an establishment in other respects, but no plate, was at once convinced, that many valuable articles must have been removed, which, if he could obtain possession of, would add considerably to his comfort during his residence in that neighborhood. He, therefore, immediately arrested the overseer, and threatened to hang him, as a traitor, if he did not conduct him to the spot where

he had secreted the silver, &c. The overseer denying all knowledge of what he was accused, was seized, a rope put round his neck, and then suspended from a limb of a tree. After the expiration of a second or two, he was let down, and again asked to divulge the secret-he again declined, and was again suspended. This the soldiers repeated three times. At last, Quarter Master Jack finding him inexorable, steadfast, immoveable-said he must either be innocent, or be a very faithful worthy fellow-too good in either case to be hung like a dog. He, therefore, ordered his men to release him, and to give him safe conduct beyond the lines of the encampment.

Bishop SMITH, on hearing the above circumstance, sought out his faithful friend, and, in reward for his fidelity, provided for him in a becoming manner, during the residue of his days on earth.

The subject of the above narrative was an Irishman-his name was Mauder-a native of Belfast, where he commenced business in early life, but being unsuccessful, he emigrated to this country with his wife and three children, in a very destitute condition. Bishop SMITH met them in Meeting-street. Moved by their affecting situation-without money and without friends,-like the good Samaritan, he stopt by the wayside to administer to their necessities. On learning their history, he offered an asylum on his plantation to the family, employing Mauder as an overseer, and his wife as a dairy woman. The children he educated, and was afterwards instrumental in establishing them comfortably in life.

On the breaking out of the war, Bishop SMITH'S silver, with the sacramental plate of the Church, was

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