The voice of freedom. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1839-1848, 1843-10-26
D. S. MURRAY, PRINTER.

menced; deep silence prevailed, and a
young man was busy in his defence. He
was OF noble and commanding aspect.
with countenance shaded by the gent.
lest melancholy. But his voice-it struck
Immediately 10 the agonzed feelings of
the cotager, and convinced him, thai! the
person he nov beheld, was the stranger of
his fancy, Robert Emmet--lhe patriot Of
his country. He denied the CHARGE of
treason with the most imprisoned elo.
quence, and sighed while he recalled the
memory OF the girl he loved, but whom
he had given up in his superior attach
ment TO his country. He wept, but he
wept not for himself; and the tears that
had never fallen for his own misfor,unes,
stole down his faded cheek, when he re-.
fiecIed on the miseries he had entaiIed on
the poor associates Of his rebellion. For
himself he sought no pardon but he sup
plicated the mercy of the Judge for the
wretched men he had missed, and con-
Icluded with that affecting appeal 10 pos
iterlty, which can never be forgotten:
" Let no man write my epitaph for as
no man who knows my motives dare vim.
dca,e them, let not prejudice or ignor.
ance asperse them; but let them and me
repoSe in obscurity and peace, and nv
tomb remain un!nscribed, till other times.
and other men, can do justice TO my char
acter." Even this appeal failed of its eff.
feet; he was condemned TO die the death
of traitor, and his execution was order
ed for the ensuing Monday, July, l843.
The evening before his death, while
the workmep were busy with the scat
fold, young lady was ushered into his
dungeon. It. was the girl he so fondIy
loved, and who had now come to bid him
her eternal adeu. He was leaning in a
melanchoI y mood against the window
frame of his prison, and the heavy clank-
ing of his chains smote dismally on her
heart. The interview was bitterly af-
lectng, and melted even the callous soul
Of the jalIor. AS for Emmet himself he
wept, and spoke little: but as he pressed
his beloved in silence TO his bosom, his
countenance betrayed his emotions Ina
low voice, half-choked by anguish, he
besought her not to forget him; he re.
minded her of their former happiness, of
the long-past days of their childhood, and
concluded by requesting her sometimes
TO visit the scenes where their infancy
was spent, and though the world might re-
peat his name with scorn, 10 cling to his
memory with affection.
At this instant the evening bell pealed
from the neighboring church. Emmet
started at the sound and as he felt that
this was the last time he should ever hear
its dismal echoes, he folded his beloved
Sarah Curran still closer TO his heart, and
bent over her shaking form with eyes
streaming with affection. The turnkey
entered at the moment; ashamed OF his
weakness, he dashed the rising drop from
his eye, and frown again lowered on his
The man in the mean
while approached TO tear the lady from
his embraces, Overpowered by his feel
ings, he could make no resistance; but as
he gIoomly released her from his hold,
gave her a miniature of himself, and with
his parting token of attachment, Imprint
ed the last kisses Of dying man upon her
own lips. Ga gaining the door, she turn
ed round, as If to gaze once more on the
object of her widowed love. He caught
ler eyes as she retired, it was but for
the dungeon door swung back
Ipon its hinges, and as it closed after her,
him too surely that they had met
or the last time on earth.