Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1851-10-09

avais nothing with thee. Thou wilt give
me strength, my Father, to teach my foes ho'p
an American can die. Thou knowest that |
have been wrongcd. Thou wilt avcnge Inc.
How many hand will grasp the sword, and
rush to the field OF carnage, when the story OF
my wrongs-my death is heard! From the
snowy mountains of Maine 70 the red old hills
of Georgia. they will rise up and nerve their
hearts TO yet stcrncr deeds.
"And thou, my State, my gallant, patriotic
little State thought to see the bright star
Of victory, shining above thy Palmetto trees,
and the snowy dove of peace nesting amid
its green branches. But this blessed hope is
crashed, and must 90 down to the grave,
leaving thy shield SErouded in pail of dark
ness.-CHrolina, Carolina, with what death
less chains of love art thou twincd around this
heart Dearly hare loved thee-dearly do
| love thee. even now, in this last, darkest
hour of my existence. Thou vert the fore
most to throw off the domination Of old Eng
land. Never submit TO the yoke OF her mon
arch Ever choose death TO submissioli-a
grave to chains and Servitude. Sooner would
see every member Of my State die in her
defence ave, even as shall die ere this days
sun shall 90 to rest than that she should sub.
mi; and remain III bondage and oppression.
South Carolina, receive my blessing, the last
| shall ever give 10 thee. Guard thou the Pal
mctto Banner with thy life, when death only
can save it from dishonor let thy hearts
blood crimson its snowy whitcncss, but never
suffer the stain of submission to color IFS go-
rious rolds. But this is not Il time to cling
with such deathlcss affection to what is of
"ea.,il, earthly" The thoughts Of this last
hour should be of thee only, my Heavenly
Father"
It was the hour of noon Not zephyr
stirred the no: air. or ruffied old Oceans sleep
in~ !iows. The breeze scarcely murmured
amid the snowy flowers of the orange groves,
or WAY cd the willie iuccnse-cups Of the mag
nolia. The Red Cross of st. George waved
not proudly and free from the citadel turrct,
bat conscious OF the lie-blood that crimsoncd
its futterinms, dropped mourntully downward,
and. more human than lis defenders, could
uazc upon another scene of murder The
poured down its burning rays upon the
ing sands of Charleston: mournlully droo
the hanging moss from the branches OF
old oaks. How many u. dark and bic.
scene had that calm sky looked down
and oves those-siilhwaters, how oftcnhu'
sigh of the lonely captive, the groan @
diving soldier, been waited A stiffness
death-a gloom like the shadow Of the grave,
hung over the city. That deep silence, like
the calm preceding the tornadoes OF the In
dies, ioretold Il convulsion. but Il mighticr far
than that of wind or water The "still small
voice" that spoke in the Martyrs death, arous-
cd the fierce whir!wind and earthquake Of hu-
man passion.
Beyond the precincts of the city, upon
Worn out common, were gathered all those
who had deserted the streets Of Charleston.
There was the gold and scarlet uniform of
the British officer, the plain dress of the civil
liam, the peaceful drab of the quaker, even the
copcras suit Of the negro. There was not
heard the shout Of contcndiug armies, the roar
OF artillery, that attends the soldiers death.
No hcarsc with sable plumcs was there, no
mufi,cd drum, no crapc-shroudcd banner, to
mark the soldiers funeral Instead of these
were the gibbets, the rude white pine coffin,
the carriers cart-Beside that coffin stood
ISAAC H,yyE, the Martyr Of Carolina. A
halo seemed lowering around that noble form,
and on that glorious brow was written the
strength of hirh and holy resolve. There
was smile in his full dark eye, upraised to
Heaven, us though, like the exile returning to
his native land, he had pierced the mists
rnnIv ,.'yIr bnn,n .' ''>' ~
Tyn., hr,w w,s male unon every faee was
written the faeIinG of the hrart--hatred,
sorrow and wrath STRUGGLING for the mas
trrv But no fears were there that scene
was too sublime for tears. The soldiers Of
King George looked gloomy even to them,
Il voice WAS crying "Murder" The execu-
toner adranccd TO raise the fatal drop. Sud
denly the word "Faiher," WAS borne upon
the still mir, uttered in tones Of such wild ago
ny, that even the rude soldiers started, and
tie hand Of the cxcculoncr fell powcrcss by
his side. 4 boy, over whose head scarce
twelve summers suns had shone. dashed
through the crowd. Beautiful was that young
face, with its dark flashing eyes, lis raven
! curIs, waving over Il broad, high forehead,
upon whic! the seal ofintelect was stamped
"Faihcr" he exclaimed. as the Martyr fold
ed him to his heart, America will avenge her
murdered IIavnc. England shall yet weep
tears Of blood for thee" and his pale lip qulv-
cred with Scorn us he gazed upon his fathers
foes and his own.