Horseshoe Robinson—Who has not read Kennedy's delightful novel of this name, and who that has read would not give an half day's ride to see the venerable living Hero of this Tale of "Tory Ascendency," the Immortal Horseshoe himself—the extermination of "Jim Curry" and Hugh Habershaw? The venerable patriot bearing the familiar sobriquet, and whose uame Mr. Kennedy has made as familiar in the months of American youths as household words, was visited by us in company with several friends one day last week. We found the old Gentleman on his Plantation about 12 miles from this city, as comfortably situated with respect to this world's goods as any one could desire to have him. It was gratifying to us to see him in his old age after having served through the whole war of Independence thus seated under his own vine and fig tree, with his children around him and with the Partner of his early toils and trials still continued to him enjoying In peace and safety the rich rewards of that arduous struggle, in the most gloomy and desponding hour of which he was found as ready, as earnest, as zealous, for the cause of liberty as when victory perched upon her

standard, and the stare of the "Tory ascendency" was for a while dimmed by defeat—and in which he continued with unshaken Faith and constancy until It sank below the Horlson never again to rise. The old gentleman gave us a partial history of his Revolutionary adventures, containing many interesting facts respecting the domination of the Tory party in the South during the times of the Revolution, which Mr. Kennedy has not recorded In his Book. But It will chiefly interest our readers, or to that portion of them at least to whom the history of the old hero's achievements as recorded by Mr. Kennedy is familiar, to be assured that the principal Incidents therein portrayed are strictly true.

That of his escape from Charleston after the capture of that city, his being entrusted with a letter to Butler, the scene at Wat Adair's, the capture of Butler at Grindal's Ford, his subsequent escape and recapture, the death of John Ramsey, and the detection of the party by reason of the salute fired over his grave, his capturing of the four men under the common of the younger St Jermyn, his attack up Ines camp, and the death of Hugh Haberfshaw by his own hand and finally the death of Jim Curry, are all narrated pretty much as they occurred, in the old veteran's own language: "There Is a heap of truth in it, though the writer has mightily furnished It up." That the names of Butler, Mildred Lindsay, Mary Musgrove, John Ramsay, Hugh Habershaw, Jim Curry and In fact almost every other used In the Book, with the exception of his own, are real and not fictitious. His own name, he Informed us, is James; and that he did not go by the familiar appellation by which he is now so widely known until after the war, when he acquired it from the form of his Plantation in the Horseshoe Bend of the Fair Forest creek, which was bestowed upon him by the Legislature of South Carolina In consequence of the services he had rendered during the war—this estate, we understood him to say, he still owned.

He was born, he says, in 1759 in Virginia, and entered the army in bis seventeenth year. Before the close of war, he says, he commanded a troop of horse, so that his military title Is that of Captain. Horseshoe, although in Infirm health, bears evident marks of having been a man of great personal strength and activity. He Is now afflicted with a troublesome cough, which In the natural course of events must in a few years wear out his aged frame. Yet, notwithstanding his infirmities and general debility, his eye still sparkles with the fire of youth, as he recounts the stirring and thrilling incidents of the war, and that sly, quiet humor so well described by Kennedy may still be seen playing around bis mouth as one calls to his recollections any of the pranks be was wont to play upon any of the "tory vagrants," as he very properly styles them. The old Gentleman received us with warm cordiality and hospitality; and after partaking of the Bounties of his board and spending a night under bis hospitable roof we took leave of him, sincerely missing him many years of the peaceful enjoyment of that liberty which he fought so long and so bravely to achieve. It will not be uninteresting, we hope, to remark that the old hero still considers himself a soldier, though the nature of his warfare is changed; he is now a zealous promoter of the Redeemer's cause as he once was in securing the independence of his country.

Since the above was in type we have heard of the death of the aged partner of this venerable patriot. An obituary notice will be found In another column.

"The novel Horseshoe Robinson is interesting reading even in this critical and blase twentieth century. Judge A. B. Meek, a fine literary critic, says that "Mr. Kennedy, the author of 'Horseshoe Robinson,' has in that inimitable Tale of the Tory Ascendency' in South Carolina proved the suitableness of American subjects for fictitious composition of the most elevated kind. Although in his incidents and characters he has done little more than presented a faithful chronicle of facts, using throughout the veritable names of persons and places as they were stated to him by his hero himself, yet such is the thrilling interest of the story, the vivid pictures of scenery, manners, customs, and language, the striking contrasts of characters and the pervading beauty and power of style and description throughout the work, that we think we do not err in saying that it is not inferior in any respect to the best of the Waverly series.

"The home of James Robertson in South Carolina, where he lived for a third of a century, is still standing. It is in Oconee county a few miles from Westminster. It is now owned by a Mr. Cox and travelers frequently visit the place, drawn thither by the fame of 'Horseshoe Robinson'"—Mrs. P. H. Mell in Transactions of the Alabama Historical Society, Vol. iv, pp. 560-564.