Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1849-12-17

1 T.
child, laid there on the sacramental altar
opens its 'clesE dark eyes, and clasps it
tiny hands and 1Lniles!
That child was BENEDICT ARNOLD.
Near hall cen.nry had passed away
|It was night 10 that New England town
where forly ears before, that mother
lin lhe calmness of The Sabbath evening
brough her be, and laid it on The altar.
>It MA nsidniight. lshe village girl hae
Ibiddau Ipssrsn Inst. good night, thai
[sa fe@1l ifiaa 6lo1bisu useieait
ii lhsir 6sds. g -. -
d 1 once, raising IRON .fs.deep saeecs ,
horrid yef went up to, the midnight SKY
ALL once blaze OF fire burst over the
roof. Look yonder! That father murder
ed on his threshold-lhat mother stabbed .ir
the midst of her children-that maiden
kneeling there, pleading for life as the
sharp steel crashes into her brain!
Then the blood flows in the startled
streets-then British troopers fit to and fro
in the red light; then, rising in the, centre
of the town, that quiet village church, with
its rustic steeple, towers into the blaze.
And there-oh, Father of Mercey! there,
in ths steeple stands soldier, with dark
cloak halfwrapped around his red uniform;
yes, there he stands, with folded arms, and
from that height surveys with calm joy,
the horrid scene of massacre below.
Now, mother ofArnold, look from Hea.
ven and. weep! Forty.five years ago, you
laid your. child on the sacramental altar of
this church, a3d now ha stands in yonder
steeple drinking in with calm joy, the
terrible cries of old men and trembling 6
women, and little children, hewn down in
hideous murder, before his eyes.
Look there, and learn what devil Re-
MoRsEcan make, of such man!
Here are the faces he has known in
childhood-the friends Of bis manhood
the mairons who were little girls when he
was boy; here they are, hacked by British
swords, and he looks on and smiles!
At last the cries are slilled in death; the
last flash of the burning town glares over
The steeple, and there, a:tired in that
scarlet uniform, his bronzed face stamped
with the conflict of his bideous passions;
there, smiling sill amid the scenes of ruin
and blood, stands BENEDICT ARNOLD.
That was the last act of the Traitor on
our soil. In a few days he sailed from
our shores,yand came back no more.
And now, as he goes yonder, on his
awful way, while millions curse the echo of
his name, in yonder room two orphans
bless that name.
What is it that you say? Orphans bless
the name of Arnold Yes, my friends;
for there was a night when those orphans
without crust of bread, while their father
lay mouldering on the sod of Bunker Hill.
Yes, the Legislature Of Massachusetts had
left these children 10 the cold mercy of the
world, and that when they bore his name
who fell on Bunker Hlll-,he immortal
WARREN.
While they sat there, hungry and cold,
no fire on the hearth, not crust OF bread
On the table, their eyes fixed upon the
fearful face of the good woman who gave
hem the shelter of roof, letter came
and in its folds FIVE hundred dollars from
Benedict Arnold.
This at the very moment he was STEEL
ng his soul to the guilt Of Treason. This
1t the very moment when his fortune had
,een scattered in banquets and pageants-
when asssailed by clamorous creditors, he
vas ready to sell his soul for gold.
From the last wreck OF his fortune, all
hat had been left from the parasites who
ed upon him while they could, and then
'tung the hand that fed them, he took five
hundred dollars and sent them TO the chill
lren of his comrade, the patriot Warren.
Il is true, that when the curse Of all or
,hans culver up yonder, the Angels of God
he'd tears at that sound Of woe! Then, at
he awful hour when Arnold's soul went
Up in judgment, did the prayers Of Warren's
orphan children 60 up there, and like
Angels plead for him with COP.