Semi-weekly Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, South-Carolina) 1851-1852, 1851-09-02
From the State Rights Republican.
THE MARTYR OF SOUTH CAROLINA

would never again behold its setting, and
brought to his sad heart thoughts of his home.
his country, his own gloomy fate, and dreams
of the past-the buried past. tits the last time
that sun will ever dawn for hm-the last time
he can gaze upon its beams, glancing over the
bright waters, or watch the glad waves of the
blue Atlantic, as they lave the glowing shores
of his native State. There has gone forth that
awful sentence-"Thou shalt die" He has
! been condemned as traitor, and he must die
| 4 traitors death. Traitor! must such as he be
called traitor9
He was torn from the couch Of dying wife,
and marched to gloomy prison. There, the
soldiers of King George offered him his alter.
native: "Swear not to take up arms against
your king, and you shall not be called upon to
fight against your country. Give US this oath
and you may return; refuse, and the prison
must be your abode. The feelings of the man
triumphed over those of the patriot, and he
swore to remain neutral The promise of the
British was broken; he was called upon to
support the Royal Standard. This released
him from his allegiance, and he again drew his
sword in defence of America. This was trea
son to his Majesty; for this he must die. Moth
ing could save him. Lord Rawdon turned
away from the petition of the Governor, and
with cold elegance denied the request of "Ca-
rolinas rebel daughter" Then came she
"who was bound by the ties of sisterhood" to
the condemned, and with her his son; but the
proud Briton, turning away from that sisters
glance, and the mild, mploring look of that no.
Bile boy. as he prayed him to spare his fathers
life, answered still, ale must dew That sol.
emn edict, death by the gibbet's rope," has
been spoken, and calmly and fearlcssly Caro-.
lina's patriot son awaited his doom.
Alone in the deep and massy prison, the
stray sun-beams cleaning over the dark, damp
floor and the thick, grey wall, the spider wea-
wing her gassamer web over the names of those
who have suffered as he now suffers, the crick-
ct OIL the cold earth, was the captive-alone,
save with his God! That God only, might
ever know the conflicting emotions that swept
over heart and mind. He knew the keen ago
ny that wrapt his soul in gloom. He alone
could cheer that noble spirit, shrouded in dark.
ness and woe. a vision of the future came
over his soul a vision of his country in chains
and bondage; her soil, enriched by the hearts
blood of her brave sons, smiling plentiful har-
vest for the opprcSsor; her children the slaves
of all that he would have done for that bleeding
country; dream of the aurels she would have
wreatheI around his brow, and the blessing
that would have rested upon his name.
Clearly upon the still air St. Michpls chime
tol!ell forth the hour OF twelve. ST. MIchpls
chime. How many thou ,hts does that sound
bring to my mind. thoughts of all that has
been, and can never, never be again! My wife,
nave no tears Tor thee; they were all shed
when We laid thee down to sleep in thy still
damp grave. Thou hast watched over me in
"dccp, immaculate. Immortal love-" from thy
syi:i. home Thy smile has bcamed upon me
in the soft light of the stars-thy voice, low
toned and sweet, has whispered to me in the
gentle murmur of the wind. And now, | am
Fastening to join thee in that Heaven, where
pet, and the fierce battlccry are never heard.
There is bliss, there is Heaven in the thought,
and yet, Earth, thou hast strong ties to bind me
to thee! Nv children, must leave you faith
erlcss and alone The deep waters of the dark
and turbiu river will soon roll between you and
me. Then, who will care for you, my orphan
ones? He who has promised to be "fathcr
to the fatherlcss," even the Shepherd of Israel.
He will shield you from every danger and sus-
tain you through all the stormy strife of your
existence. Live so, that when he sends his
angels to call you from this world of death and
sorrow, You may be ready to meet him in 4
brighter and holer lan. May the only King
serve look down upon you, my children, and !
grant dying fathers "God bless you"
"My country! my country must leave
thee still in irons! thy shores trodden by the
foot Of the proud oppressor, thy houses desola-
ted aud laid waste by British tyrannys My
cup of agony is full, yet bless thee, my Fath-
er, that one drop of joy-stern, indeed-but
oh, how blissful is mingled amid its deepest,
darkest dregs. thank thee that may die for
my country, than which more glorious thy
sun never shonc upon. Willingly do give
back the life thou gavest, willingly do / lay it
down upon the altar of Liberty. might wish
that the manner of my death were more glorl-
ous-that could die on the battle field-dle |
supporting the banner of the stars. but ask
ed soldiers death-a soldiers burial. Brit
ain sternly denied mt. But this avails nothing
with thee. Thou wilt give me strength, my
Father, to teach my foes hoo an American can
die. Thou kncwest that | have been wronged
Thou wilt avenge me. How many hand Will
Grasp the sword, and rush to the field of car
mage, when the story of my wrongs my death
is heard! From the snowy mountains OF
Maine to the red old hills of Georgia, they will
rise up and nerve their hearts to yet sterner