Rising Sun Times, Volume 1, Number 10, Rising Sun, Ohio County, 18 January 1834 — Page 1

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To "praise where praise is due," and blame where blamr, Bia spite of fashion, pride or other name. a.

THE RISING SUN L Prinled and published t: cry Saturday Bjr Iwrnc Stevens. Sc (o. TERMS. Tw o D;Lr. :s per annum, if paid in advan ;e. Two Dom,a:s. ami

J' i ftt ii.xts it u iiii ii; sis month, or Tmiri: Dollars at the :? of i'v y ear. A failure, to notify a discontinuance it the end ol" (Ik: time sii!-eribyd fur will he eoiisidtndu re :: it no'iU. frJ-Arrearage:. must S.- aid previcus to discontinuance. Advertisement!" not i-xcecdii-g one square, oik: dollar for three v. 01 ks. each subsequent insertion tv.cray-fne cents, larger one.- in proportion. Letter? addressed to the editor, must le postpaid to receive Mention SELECTED TALES. Sir William Dease, OR THE MAGIC OF WEALTH. By John Russell, of Blujfdale. Illinois. in the Boston Spectator, of June ?ih 1310, appeared the following editorial paragraph, '.i Freak of Fortune. The blind goddess ha? been furious in all age? for the singular and unexpected manner in which she frequent I v bestows her fivois; but never ha? ii fallen to our lot to record an instance of her versatility, f. extraordinary a the following. Letter- were received in town, by the brig Laura, Cap!. Hiil, which ai rived in this port a few days since, from Liverpool, announcing the death of Sir Robert Deane, of Deane Hall, Lancashire, England. By the demise of this baronet, all hi extensive domains in Lancashire, the yeaily rental of which exceeds thirty thousand pounds sterling together with his valuable porsoseil property, including upwards of . 100,000 in ready money, all descend to a cousin the only surviving member of that ancient family. But what renders the event so extraordinary, is the fa I that the sole inheritor of this immense fortune, is William Deane, an indigent tailor, in the village, of Mil ford, Vermont. It is said that he is well educated and that :x singular train of circumstan ces having reduced him to indigence, lie emigrated to the United Stales, and was subsequently driven to his present humble occupation for subsistancc. However this may be, the elevation from the shop board to the honors of knighthood, for the title goes with the estate is immense. Most cordially and sincerely do wc congratulate him on his ri-e to rank and fortune, and hope that w hen he is seated in the castle of his ancestors, he will remember with affection the laud in which he found an asylum and a home.' The above paragraph immediately went the rounds' of the, newspapers, and excited universal attention; but in Milford,the little country village where the fortunate subject of it resided, the sensation it produced, was absolutely overwhelming. The weekly mail had arrived that important event in village life and the post ollice was crowded, as usual, with peophj; all eager and impatient for news. To appease their importunities till he could assort and distribute I .is packages, the postmaster handed out the 'Boston Spectator" through the lattice work that fenced up a corner of the room into what was emphatically and in fact the post office. The owner of the paper seized it, and rapidly glancing his ey e over the inner columns eaw, and read aloud the article annouv.cing the good fortune of William Deane. It was the very first intelligence of the event that had reached the village. For an instant, every one was speechless with astonishment; in the next, the postmaster was the sole occupant of the office. In fifteen minutes every man, woman and child, from one end of Milford to the other had heard the news. The humble domicil of the Deanes was rushed into without the least ceremony, and twenty couriers, breathless with running, were telling them their good fortune at once. At hi st, no one thought of calling in question the correctness of the state merit in the Boston Spectator, but envy soon suggested that the editor might possibly have been misinformed, and some of the village nobility whose first impulse had been to go with the rest and congratulate the Deanes1, secretly concluded to wait til! the report was confirmed, before they condescended to pay their respects to a family which they had hitherto considered so immea urably beneath them. This confirma ion was -onn nMii ed. Mr. Ilcnson,

Ihopi incipal merchant of Milford, whose wealth and influence placed him decidedly at the head of the village, had rereived by ti e same mail, a letter from Mr. Walker, the steward of the late Sir Robert, confirming the intelligence in every particular. The letter was in part cor.fkler.tial, but Mr. Henson communicated all that the public could have any real interest in knowing. The steward of the estate was aware, from report, that the circumstance of the heir were low, and very considerately devised the means of rendering them, before his return to England, a little more in accordance with his future rank. To edict this object, he requested Mr. Henson to place the family of Mr. Deane in circumstances befitting their station and wealth, and to furnish him with funds to return to England with as little delay as possible, that he might enter upon his estates, and prepare for the removal of his family. To meet these expense?, Mr. Walker authorized Mr. Henson to draw upon a bank in New-York, to which he had sent funds amply sufficient. The exact place where Mr. Deane resided vas not known to the steward, which was the principal reason for not applying directly to the legatee himself. However, inclosed in the letter to Mr. Henson, was one to the heir, superscribed ' to Sir William Deane, Baronet.' This letter was couched in the; most obsequious terms, giving him an account of the death of his lamented uncle, and a statement of the annual inco i c of the estates, Sec. &c, not forgetting to solicit for himself, a continuance in the stewardship under the new lord of the manor, the duties of which he had so ably and faithfully performed under the late Sir Robert. Mr. Henson did not hesitate an instant in accepting the proffered agency, and pohtelv told Mr. Deanethalany.sum of money he might please to want was at his service. The people of the vil lage were too well acquainted with his shrewdness in money matters, and iiis

careful attention to the 'main chance, to give Mr. Henson the credit of doinn this from motivesof generosity or friendship. No, they knew him too well not to feel perfectly assured that had he not ascertained to a certainty that the Deans had become the actual and bona fide inheritors of an immense fortune, and would repay him fourfold for every cent he loaned them, or expended in their service, the Deanes' could not have obtained from him a dollar, even to prevent starvation. It is now high time to introduce the happy favorite of fortune, the heir of til this wealth and honor, more fully to the acquaintance of our readers. He was then about forty years of age, eigh teen of which had been passed in Milford. His arrival there, and subsequent history, were well remembered by all the elderly inhabitants. Being young of handsome person, and with no annarent fault in the world but that of 'drink ing and the like, he had no difficulty in entering the pale of matrimony, soon after his arrival, notwithstanding hipoverty, with a young lady of the vilage, whose merits and accomplish ments were equal to his own. Suffice it to say, that they managed to live, and it may be added, happily, not withstanding the warlike sounds which frequently greeted the ears of the neighbors, and those who chanced to be passing by. r or the honor of knighthood we lament that truth requires the acknow ledgment, that often while his wife was seated on the shop-board, mending the habits of other, her loving husband was indulging in very bad ones of ks own, at the sign of the harrow, a low tavern at the lower end of the village. Every sixpence he could possibly lay his hand on, stood a fair chance of being ex pended at that favorite place of his re sort. 1 he village barber, who was al ways ready with a joke, and several others, some of whom had been respec table in the world, till New England rum had reduced them to poverty and disgrace, were his constant companions It was amusing to observe (he traits of character which these taverrr friends exhibited when they had fairly drank down the carping cares of this mortal life. At such times especially, the ut most deference was paid to the rank of each other; not as the world considered it, but to the rank which either had formerly held, or would have held. had it not been for the ingratitude of the world, or the treachery of friend or relation. One of these associates,

actording to his own account, had been

a legislator in a distant state, and very rich, till some envious wretches swore falsely against him, and he was compelled to serve an apprenticeship to nail-making in a penitentiary. The latter part of the story was known to be true, and the rest, of course, taken for granted. This man was never addressed without his title, and becoming deference. But the hero of the whole party was Mr. Deane. Ik was the heir of a noble family in England, and had it not been for the chicanery of the law, and the viliany of a relative, would then have been enjoy ing rank and wealth, in-tcad of sitting oa the shop-board of a tailor. Everv time he : ,i . i ii. tit , I'll i

liKuigeu in oiue ruiHy wnich happened 'pretty considerably ' often, the story of his high birth, and the unbounded wealth of his uncle, Sir Robert Deane, of Deane Hall, Lancashire, was sure to be told, with all its particulars and am plilications. Nor did he once fail to predict, on such occasions, that he should one day inheiitthc title and estates of his uncle. Wre leave to philosophers the task of accounting for the propensity which some men exhibit while inebriated, to relate all their disappointments and expectations. Every man in Milford, who would listen to him, had heard his story an hundred times, but bey ond the circle of the harrow it won him no respect. The nobiiity of the v illage tor every com. tryvillage has its nobility, who look down with contempt upon all below them the village nobility so far from allowing Ids claims to e quality, like the priest and Levite, passed by on the other side, and rarely condescended to no! ice ei titer him or his family, even by a nod of recognition. He was characterized as a miserable, profane sot, with whom it would be disgraceful to have any thing to do, beyond employing him to make or mend their clothes. For several years, his family, which now consisted of himself his wife, and a daughter of seventeen, had inhabited a room in the basement story of a large building in the village. Great, indeed, was the astonishment of the Milfordites when they discovered that all his accounts of his high birth and princely expectations, were verilied to the very letter! What a fortune! Thirty thousand pounds reduced to federal money is upwards of an hundred thousand dollars; more than twice as much as Mr. Henson, the richest man in Milford, is worth; and this sum the Deanes' are to receive every y ear. It is truly overwhelming! What could they possibly do with such an immense sum? How could they ever spend half of it! To a man of such wealth, a few thousand dollars would be of no account nd not a few had secret hopes of be ing materially benefitted by his friend ship. Every one envied Mr. Henson for being made the temporary agent of such a man. His fortune would be made, for he could not fail of being am ply rewarded, though every one knew thai he had no friendship for Mr. Dearie or any one else, beyond his own inter est. The family of Mr. Deane, or as lie was now called. Sir U ilhan Deane, had ben immediately removed frcm their subter ranean residence, to one of the handsomest houses in Milford vv hich Mr. Henson rented and furnished for that purpose. Every thing befiting their new condition was provided, and magic itself could hardly have wrought a more striking change in the manners and appearance of this family. The elite of society, the very first people of the village, lost no time in paying them a visit. Parties were made in rotation at the houses of all the, principal gentry, solely to do honor to Sir William, his lady and daughter. 'What a genteel, jwrlite woman lady Deane is, said the wife of the minister; she seems as if she was born to the rank she fills! 'O, certainly,' was the response of the whole coterie. The excellent Dualities of the, mother and daughter afforded a most prolific theme of conversation in all good society, and could any measure of praise have been too great for such unheard of meiit, not a small share of the en comiums heaped upon them to their very face, might have been suspected of savoring a little of flattery and syco phancy. One lady, in the fulness ol her heart, seized lady Deane by both her hands, at a large parly, and 'won dered how it could possibly have hap pened that she had not become ac quainted with her before, and why lady Deane had never called upon her! Any thing in the world that she or her hus band could have done for her and Sir

William, would joyfully have been done, had they only called upon them

and made their request known; but, somehow or other, they had never till latelv tnjoved the supreme felicity of their acquaintance.' By the by, this same, lady, of all othets, hna been the most distinguished for the insulting dis dain she had formei ly manifested for (lie poverty and low standing cf the Deanes'. A thousand little presents flowed in upon the mother and the daughter, from the neighbors, and every hour in the day saw their house beseiged with genteel visiters, who 'just called to see how they were." If either of them chanced to catch (he slighest cold, it is astonishing how much sympathy and alarm it excited among tb ladies composing the 'good society' of Milford. Kind souls, they were half frightened out of their wits, for fear it might ter minate in consumption. Everv remedv that could be devised was recommend ed, and their attention to the supposed invalid? was as earnest and assiduous as if their own lives depended upoii tiie ue. So great was the friendship of these ladies, and so very anxious were they to show kindness to lady Deane and her daughter, that they would reIly have rejoiced to have had them afflicted with a moderate sized fever. merely to alleviate their sufferings and sympathize with and console them. Let not the reader imagine, for an instant, that any share of the overwhelming attention bestowed by these ladies and others, upon this family, was ;:t all owing to the trifling circumstance that tt.f y had risen to rank and fortune. iNo, not a pariicleof it was,byanvmeans chargeable-to that account; for I have often heard these ladies declare to lady Deane herself, that it was entirely ow ing to the ex died merits they discovered in lady Deane and her daughter; and that they would have admired them just as much, and been just as familiar with them years and years ago, had it not, somehow or other, unaccountably happened, that they not become acquainted with them tiil recently. 1 o dojnsticc to Sir Vv uliam.he wore his newly acquired honors with as much propriety of character, as most other men who have risen to sudden fortune. Dressed in an elegant suit of English broadcloth, from the store cf Mr. Hen son, he really looked the gentleman; and it was difficult to decide which was most to be admired, his dress or his crr'rms, so perfectly were his manners adapted to his new station in life. If the gentlemen of Milford had for merly been deficient in paying him re spect, which we are sorry to say was the fact, they now appeared eager to make ample amends for past neglect, by pay ing up all arrears, both principal and interest. This, common juslice required of them. Every one was now anxious to do him a favor. ' Is there nothing 1 can do for you, Sir William ? was inquired again and again. Each individual was incessant in his efforts to gain the particular friendship of the heir, and to defeat similar at tempts of others. the moral character of Sir William underwent a transformation a great and unexpected as that of his pecunitry allairs. It is true that he swore just as often, and just as profanely as lie did belore; but some how or other, though I am not philosopher enough to explain the 'reason why,' yet the effect was entirely ditlerent. Even the Rev. Mr. Polyglot, the worthy parson of the village, who had hitherto expressed the utmost horror of hisoatli9 and immoral character, now declared, that 'Sir Wil liam was really become a moral man; and though, to be sure, he sometimes used language that was a little profane, y et he did it from mere thoughtlessness and habit, and meant not the least ii reverence in the world.' Intention, alone, renders any thing evil : it followthat Sir William, having no evil intention, was in fact a moral man. He was intoxicated, pel haps, rather ollener than former!) ; but from entire ly a different cause and motive. I tore his elevation to rank, his intem perance was charged t mere sottish ncss of disposition, but he immediately laid aside this degrading propensity. Now, his intoxication was in conse quence of having accidentally drank upon an empty stomach or the liquor had an unusual cllect on account ol his being out of health or hospitality and politeness to guests required it. 1 said that he was 'intoxicated,' but people generally gave it another name, that of benifj in goc'i 'pir'tv In a word, it

was universally acknowledged, that Sir William Deane was temperate, and drank not a drop more than a man of his rank and wealth ought to drink. To do him justice he had not a fault in the world. He laid them all aside, the moment he heard of his elevation. Not a doubt existed in the mind of the Rev. Mr. Polyglot, that his wealth and influence would essentially promote the cause of virtue. To effect (his object, he managed to have Sir William elected president of a society which he had recently instituted to support the gospel, by raising a permanent fund tovav

his own salary. Miss Dearie, the heiress anoarent of all the accumulated wealth and dignity of the family, became at onct a conspicuous object of attention among the young lawyers, doctors and merchants, the rising nobility of the incorporated village of Milford. She was now about eventeen, and a girl of excellent quali ties. Her education was rather limit ed; but in fashionable life it is not necessary to be a 'blue-stocking,' or a philosopher. She had hitherto been known by the soft, poetic nam? of ' Betsy,' but more frequently was she designated by the far more pastoral one of ' Bets.' Remembering the words of Solomon, that 'a good name is more to be desired than great riches, the people of Milford, as if by universal consent, changed that of the gentle y oung lady in question, to ' Miss Eli zabeth. The principles of gentiiity and taste must have been innate and inherent in (he mind of Miss Elizabeth Deane, in deli ance of the theory of Locke; for in-. a surprisingly short lime could she display all the airs and affectation of high ton, and cut the acquaintance of her former associates in the most approved and fashionable style. It was certainly presumption in an untitled republican, to aspire to a connection with a Britith knight; but what will not disinterested love dare to hope? To give a detail of the rivalry for the smiles of this young heiress, would fill a volume, and we will therefore leave it all to the imagination of (he reader. Six weeks had scarcely elapsed since the intelligence of the death of Sir Robert had reached the village, when Llr. Henson had every thing in readi ness for the departure of Sir William, to England. The family were to remain in the elegant mansion in which Mr. Henson had placed them, till the return cf Sir William, who would come prepared to remove them, in style, to Deane Hall. Other letters had arriv ed, extracts from which had been pubished, urging his immediate departure md confirming all the particulars of the first intelligence, beyond the possibility of a doubt, had any existed. But none did, or could exist; for Mr. Hen;on was a man of all others, the least iable to be deceived. He had once eeu an importer of goods from Eng land; had often been in that country, where his acquaintance was extensive, and had likewise a deep knowledge of mankind. It was decided that Sir William should sail from Boston, which was about one hundred and fifty miles dis tant. Numerous and expensive were the parting dinners made on the occaSIOH. It could hardly have excited more profound regret, had his departure bccii final, instead of for a few months.. Sir William had become a warm friend to the Americans, and intended to persuade several of the y oung nobility of England with whom he. should become acquainted in his visit. to accompany him to Milford, when he returned to his family. This latter event was anticipated in the village with the most delighted expectation. The good offices and influence of Sir William would induce some of these young noblemen to marry in Milford j and more than one mother of a beautiful daughter, resolved to improve the interval by accomplishing her at a dancing school, and thus prepare her for the style of life she would enter upon in England. This ambition was not confined to the mothers and daughters. The fathers, also, entered with spirit into the pi. in, and having read in novel that English noblemen are excessively fond of the chase, and of hounds, many a good, honest, brindled dog, who had never dreamed of ny higher emyloyment than that of guarding (he house and sleeping in the shade, was put in training for the expected occasion. At length the farewells and adieus were all said and wept, and Mr. Henson accompanied Sir William to