The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1852-08-19


their channels. The next morning some
pitying neighbors sought the lone cot
tage on the hill but what scene pre-
sented itself! There lay the martyr,
calm as when he first entered into his
rest, half shrouded in the drifting snow,
and by his side his young widowed wife,
cold and stiff and dead, the big tear
drops frozen on her wan cheek. But
they had been tears of holy rapture and
Joy; she had found comfort in death, for
a calm smile still seemed to play about
her mouth, and, like the holy Stephen,
those who stood around "saw her face
as if it had been the face of an angel"
They both lie here, doubtless in hopes
of glorious and blessed resurrection,
and in that tomb sleeps their murderer,
till the thunder of the last dread trumpet
call the oppressor and the oppressed be-
fore His throne, who will judge all men
according to the deeds done in the flesh
whether they be good or evil. God
alone knows his fate; but, sir, not fol
the wealth of the Indies ten times told
would l change that little neglected hill
lock of earth for yonder proud sculptur-
ed tomb The curse has not yet fallen
on the house of the spoiler; but as sure
as that noontidc sun is shining over our
heads, it will come and that quickly.
The blood of Abel cried not in vain f ON
the earth, neither will that of John
Craig and lsabel Ross for precious in
Gods sight is the blood of his saints.
|
1t was long after the old man had
ceased to speak, that l looked up, and
when | did so he was gone. 1 was sit
ting alone, between the patrician tomb
and the humble earthen mould, through
the long rank grass f which the piping
wind whistled in wild 6tful gusts, as il
the inhabitants; of the tomb were lament
ing their distinies and woes.
When at last / rose, l felt as if 1 was
recovered from some strange sickness or
troubled dream. IHe Third Genera
tion," | continued repeating over and
over to myself-"the third generation 81
"'Tis indeed come. What if the strange
legend of that old dotard should be true
But no 'tis but an idle tale-the in
vention of ofcredulous superstition-an old
wife's fable. To frighten children with
al. May the curse light OF the inventor
of such an improbable farago - But
for all this l felt kind of nameless awe
and apprehension hang over me, and l
had wished that l had never seen the
peasant, and never heard his tale.
When going ont of the enclosure, 1
saw some farmers ride past in the direc-
tion of my fathers house, with favors in
their hats, as if for bridal and be-
tween the intervals of joyous shouts of
laughter, l heard mention made of Rath
house, as the scene of some such festivi-
ty. [ could not prevail on myself to
question the many groups as to particu-
lars, but rode on, congratulating myself
on my good fortune in reaching home on
such an occasion, when all would be
mirth, and happiness, and rejoicing.
Rath house, the seat of my fathers,
stands at the extremity of a steep per-
pendicular line, or curtain of rocks,
which, without break or stay goes sheer
down twenty fathoms, till it ends in
deep rapid stream, rushing through
narrow gorge, and scantily studded with
a sort of dwarfsh stunted brushwood,
through which the boiling and bubbling
of the water is seen at broken intervals
Along the ridge of this steep it was
the Gust ON, when any marriage, occur
red in the family, for the bridal process
sion to ride to church, which stood in a
glen about half mile distant; and on
such an occasion the bride and bride
groom rode double, that is, on one horse,
the lady sitting behind, on an ancient
pad used only for that purpose. Twas
one of those old antiquated observanccs
which almost every family Of any stand
ing has, and which is kept up merely
because practiced by former generations;
and as the ceremony generally took
place little after midday, so l fully
calculated on meeting the joyous throng,
midway at least. "It will be my broth
er's bridal" said I, land my father will
be there-and my uncle, Heaven bless
him will be there--and Helen We're,
perchance, will be there as bridesmaid
Little does she dream how soon she may
ride the principal feature in similar So
limnity." The thought of Helen inspired
me with new vigor; the legend of the