The Abbeville banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1847-1869, 1847-06-16
NO. 16.
Robert Emmet and his I,0vp

desired admitance into the dungeon. She
was closely veiled and the keeper could not
imagine who she was, nor why one of such
proud bearing should be suppliant at tho
prison door. However, he granted the boon.
led her to the dungeon opened the massive
iron door, then closed it again and the
lovers were alone. He leaned against the
prison with down cast head, and his arms
We're folded upon his breast. Gently she
raised the veil from her face, and Emmett
turned to gaze upon all that earth contain
cd for him-the girl whose sunny brow in
the days Of boyhood had been his polar
star--the maiden who had sometimes made
him think this ''word was all sunshine"
The chinling Of heavy chains sounded like
a death knell to her ears, and she wcpt like
a child. Emmct said but little, vet he
pressed her warmly to his bosom, and their
feelings held a silent mccting-such a
meeting perchance as is held in heaven, only
there we part no more. In low voice he
bcsought her not to forget him when the
cold grave received his inanimate body. He
spoke OF by-gone days-the happy hours of
childhood when his hopes were bright and
glorious-and concluded by requesting her
sometimes to visit the places and scenes that
were halowcd to his memory from the days
OF his infancy; and should the world pro.
nounce against his name with scorn and
contempt he prayed that she would cling to
him with affection, and remember him when
all others should forget. Hark the church
bell sounded and he remembered the hour
of execution. The turnkey entered and
separated them from their long embrace
and led the lady from the dungeon At the
entrance she turned and their eyes met
they could not say farewell, the door swung
on its hinges, and they parted forever. No!
not forever! Is there TO Heaven?
AT sunrise next morning he suffered glo-
riously-a martyr to his country and to
liberty.
"And one-o'er her the myrtle showers,
It's leaves by soft winds fanned
She faded midst Italians flowers
The last of that fair band''
Twas in the land of Italy-what mag.
nifcent scene. A pale emaciated girl Law
upon her bed of death. Oh it was hard
for her to die, far from home in this beauti-
ful land, where flowers perennial, and the
balmy air comes freely to the pining soul.
Oh no-her star was set!-The brightness
of her dream had faded-her heart was
broken. When ties have been found on
earth-close burning ties-what is more
heart-rending and agonizing to the spirit
than to find at last the beloved one snatch.
ed away, and all our love ic given to "pas.
sive flower" Enough she died the be.
trothed of Robert Emmett, the lovely Sarah
Cochran. Italy contains her last remains
its flowers breathe their fragrance over her
grave, and the lulling tones ofthe shepherds
lutte sounds requiem to her memory.
In France change has taken place in
the Ministry, which is now composed of M.
Jayr, Public Works; Duke de Montebello,
Marine; Dumon, Minister of France; Gen.
Trezel, War; Guizot, ad interim Marine.
Itis said that Abd-cl- l-Kader has rendered his
submission to the French.
The government of M. Guizot is, accord
ing the general opinion, trotting to its fall.
His i'll success at Madrid and at Athens,
and his failure to bring about an entente COR
diGle with Russia, have shaken the conf
dence which the majority Of the Chambers
have hitherto reposed in him, and the dis
covery of the wholesale system of corruption
of home government has tended so to da-
mage lllS Illdt Nc Illdy llOW De COu"
sidercd almost as Minister on suferance
merely. An article which appears In the
Journal des Debats Of Sunday, in which GER
tain officials are vehemently attacked, as a
proof that M. Guizot himself considers his
ministerial position insecure.
Nj. Guizot is evidently preparing TO organ
ize an opposition party, on whichto fall back
when he quits Office. Free Trade will no
doubt be his cheUI de bataike.
An officer who sailed up river onethe
coast of Guinea, furnished the following at
tractive picture Of the face Of the country;
"Weare thirty miles distant from the sea,in
acountry although uncultivated, ,overf1owed
with hwater--sorrounded with thick impen-
etrated woods, and oyerrun with slime
The air was so vitiated, noisome, and thick,
that our torches and candles burnt i'm, and
seemed ready to be extinguished and even
the human voice lostits natural tone. :,