Massachusetts spy and Worcester advertiser. [volume] ([Worcester, Mass.]) 1823-1825, 1825-01-26

our friends in peace. Dark was the curtain
of fate; little did he think he was cherishins
viper that would sting him to death.
We joined the army that was then station
ed near Lake Erie. The first months of our
stay there few on the swiftest wings of time.
The novelty of the life we led, the merry
companions around US, and the society of my
friend Henry, combined to make me perfectly
happy. was so till my cup of happiness
was dashed from my lips by my own rash
act.
have said we had cherished those feelings
which the world calls honorable, by which
one feels compelled to resent the slightest in
suit, even at the expense of life. The feelings
of my friend were as nice as mine, and, not
withstanding our friendship, there had been
times when he seemed ready to resent inno-
cent familiarities. But it was sudden burst
Of passion which his better feelings immedi-
ately overcame.
On the evening of joyous anniversary, the
officers of our corps had met to lengthen a
pleasant day by the festivities of the evening.
Unhappily, such occasions sometimes drew
forth an expression of sentiments upon ques-
tons that divided the people of the colonies,
upon the propriety and policy of certain acts
of the crown, and on which the officers of our
corps were divided in opinion. Such was
then the case; to some remarks of a brother
officer Henry replied tartly, and with consid-
cradle spirit. His reply was met by retort
from the officer equally spirited. saw the
storm gathering, and that the pleasures of the
evening were to be sacrificed to angry pas
sions, and interposed by mild rebuke, and
an intimation to Henry that be had better
drop the controversy. But his spirit was up,
his infammable temper had taken fire. 4
was answered with bitterness, charging ne
with an impertinent interference, and cow
ardly desertion Of my own principles, in tame
ly hearing the remarks OF his opponent. |
denied that had abandoned any principles,
and, i'll my heat, told him that none but a
hot-brain would think Of engaging in dispute
at such time. His passion, at being thus
addressed, became ungovernable he literal
y raved and exhausted epithets of abuse, by
calling me coward and poltroon. My bloof
boiled within me. 1t was the first time | ha{
heard such language addressed to me. for
got my friend in the insult had received
and flung back the charge with bitterness
We had gone too far 10 recede; the insult
had been public; the voice of the regimet
demanded satisfaction; was challenged OF
the spot, and, in my heat, accepted it. TlP
time of meeting was fixed at an early hour tn
next morning, as if to prevent our passiop
having time to yield to reflection.
1t was a sleepless nightto me. It was ne
fear, for the personal danger was TO encout
ter did not once present itself. thought {
the insult had received. thought HEM
ungrateful, and arose in the morning with
breast agitated by all the passions whish
wounded pride could call up. entered tie
field at the appointed moment. Henry WIS
there before me. His countenance was haI
gard, but the fire of anger still seemed to GLOW
in his eye. thought of him as the friendof
my youth. | thought of the hours we had
| spent together, but instautaneously checked
the current of my thoughts. My comrade
were around me-the scene, the array, tn
note OF preparation, banished all thought
but those OF the present. We met on tn
lake shore, and the hoarse muttcrings of tn
waves as they dashed over the breakers nea
us were IN accordance with my feelings.
mad no definite sensations; all was hurried
troubled, and vague. saw our seconds loao
and examine our pistols-I saw them conduct
my antagonist to the stand, and took my own
almost mechanically. But my feelings, al
that moment, were indiscribable. | looked
round upon those assembled to witness our
conflict, looked out upon the lake, tossing
anG. swelling in the summers breeze. All
was still IN the boundless forest at our rear.
and seemed anxiously to await the signal.
gained an additional Importance in this silent
expectation, and determined that it should
not be disappointed. The lots were drawn.
1t was Henry's turn to fire first. He raised
his pistol. saw his arm tremble, and thought
it was fear that weakened its nerve. There
seemed an effort to bring his feelings TO the
pont-a look of anger and contempt flashed
across his conference.-the fired. felt that
was wounded, my injured feelings awoke with
double force. hastily raised my pistol my
arm was steady, my aim was sure-I fred ,and
he fell. heard him shrek. Had | q thou
sand worlds at that moment, would have
given them all to have undone what | had
committed. forgot my injury and my anger.
thought only of my friend. / few to the
spot and raised the dying man; the agony Of
death was upon him, his fair features were
distorted, and every breath was uttered with
groan. He knew me and gazed for mo-
ment IN my face !; it was such look as he had
often cast upon me in our happier days. My
brother, said he, we must part-but let it be
in peace. Oh! go to my father, tell him
tell my dear mother-his voice faltered, a
slight quivering came over him, and his head
sunk on my breast, for his soul had departed.
! could endure no more-I tainted and the
first sensation of returning life found me
stretched on my cot bed, alone and unattend-
ed, in the silent camp. The events of the
morning came back upon me with all their
vividness. | felt desolation which was in
supportable. wished thousand times that
Henry's ball had taken effect and that had
fallen, ere had raised my hand against him.
Fancy was painfully alive: the hours of our
childhood came thronging back upon me
thought of the quiet and happiness of his ia
theirs house. The farewell charge of his pa
rents, and their parting benediction upon us
both still rung in my ears, and felt myself
the greatest villain alive. How my brain en-
dured il, | cannot tell should have sunk
under these reflections at another time.