Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1846-01-30

as We would not, strive to redeem these al
so, from the bitter degradation-the cruel
suffering!
"Although extremely weak | found my
wife perfectly sane. Her kind mistress had
done everything that could then bo done to
promote her safety and comfort. When /
arrived she was holding a pale hand of the
sufferer between both of hers, and bathing 1t
with her tears. She loved poor Clusy with
n sisters love; but she could do nothing to
save her.
"Three weeks from that night, | escaped
with my wife; for her master had begun TO
renew his base proposals. | asked her if
she dared to undertake the journey, in her
then weak state. | told her of the blood
hounds, of the rifle shots, of the nameless
fortunes that would await us, if retaken; for
Clusy had been kindly dealt with almost all
her lie and knew very little of slavery. 81
can die" she replied; 81 am ready and will
ling; and ! must die soon; but cannot live
here. That answer determined me. | bore
her in my arms that night, to the heart of IA
thick swamp; and, on the cold wet earth we
nestled together. There was no terror in the
numerous serpents and reptiles that crept
around and crawled over us. They were
not So cold, or SO vcnomous, as the heart Of
the Shareholder. We seldom stirred abroad
by day; but at night we crept from our hiding
place, found out the north star, and resumed
our Journey. When she was overcome with
fatigue, which often happened, | carried her
in my arms; and l really began to hope that
the prospect of liberty would be the elixir Of
life, and completely restore her; but | found
that there is no medicine to heal a broken
heart. True, she seemed, at times, much
stronger-hcr eyes grew brighter every day;
and her fair check was tinged with a deep
spot of red, but when we had reached tho
northern boundary of Maryland, she could
go no farther.
"'Lay me down." she whispered. sit is
useless to strive on. | have painted for free
dom. | have struggled hard for 1t; but /
can struggle no longer. Pile me a bed of
leaves, and sit down beside me; for l feel
that ! am dying. There, let the north wind
blow upon my cheek, for it is the breath of the
free; and let me look once more upon tho
bright star We have-followed so long. Ithas
been our only friend. Do you think it
will shine in heaven, Laco? All, nowI hear
angels singing songs Of freedom! | Shall
never safer any more. | have no pain-no
sorrow. God will send a good spirit to lead
You, my husband, into the land of liberty!
., God, pity and forgive poor lassa! Oh,
Lord! bless dear, dear, Mlssis!-Is there a
clond upon tue moon! 1t is dark-dark.
And, now a bright light is springing up with
in me; and through it | see heaven! Never
mourn for Clusy! she is FREE! FREE She
murmured I few indIstinct words Of praise
and prayer; then her lips were still; and l
saw that without a struggle the free soul had
departed.
In the deep loneliness of a widowed heart
| sat by her til morning, and then by tho
help Of a small fiat stone, but mostly with
my hands alone | followed out a grave in
the sandy earth. There | buried her. There
| sat all day, so absorbed in my sorrow tina;
| saw nothing of the flight of time, until it
was dark again. The melancholy owl came
outand mourned with me. 1t seemed then
as if | had companionship-as if an i%ntelli-
gent being had spoken to me; and |, for tho
first time, gave utteraEce to my grief aloud.
At length whippoorwill anne and sat upon
the new grave, and sang her p~laintive song.
thought the pure spirit spoke to me in the
voice OF that gentle bird: and then the angel
of peace dropped his wings upon my weary
soul, and | slept.
81 left her there sleeping in the lonely
woods of Maryland; but | brought with ms
a shadow, which no earthly sun can chase a.
way. Tell my story" he added as he rose
from the ground--''publish it abroad; for if
any woman can hear it without a wish; a de-
termination TO labor with all her might to a.
bolish THE SLAVERY OF WOMAN, | inpeach
her virtue. She is NOT TRuE---she is NOT
PURE!"-Libcrty Chimes.
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