The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1862-03-05
Love OF CouGkx9s
Fron the speech Of Rev. Henry Clay
Dean, delivered in Dcs Moincs, Jan. 16th,
we make the following beautiful extract:

Fro.s the speech of Rev. Henry Clay
Dean, delivered in Dcs Moincs, Jan. 10th,
we make the following beautiful extract:
"Ancient history affords no parallel to
the love Of liberty exhibited by the found
ers OF own Government will cite bat
one illustrious example. There was
young man Of IIuguenot descent in thu
! lounssins Of South Carolina who engaged
early in the Revolutionary war as prin-
ciple, Partisan, officer. After long cam.
pagn he detailed a sergeant to carry flag Of
truce to the camp Of the enemy and bear
an invitation to an officer Of Blood and
Rank to dine with him. Soon after he had
taken his seat, the British officer was con.
Quoted to the table, entirely innocent Of
knives, forks or plates. Taking bin seat
by the side of the young Huguenot, thsss
came large, stalwart negro with broad
ebony and musical eye, bearing in his sun
burnt hands few well.roasted sweet pofas
toes, which he laid before his master and
his guest.
Rather a scanty dinner, Colonel, is this
we have, bat is the best we could prepare
for you to-day, says the Huguenot.
Replies the British officer, IL suppose
this is one of your usual meals"
yes, sir" replies the young Huguenot,
'rather better to-day than common, on
your account"
"Ah indeed? suppose, General, what
you lack in meal you make up in malt; what
you lack in rations, is made up in money! :"
mo, SIR" replied the General, am re-
ceiving nothing for any services"
"Why, then," inquired the Colonel, "do
you endure cold and hunger, risk liberty
and life, and all the perils Of war! ~ ....
The General answered, AS tears were
stealing down his manly cheek, IL am in
love, sir, and am fighting for the hand Of
beautiful bride, for whom ] could freely
die, rather than surren ler 10 the British al
my
"Pray, General, that must be lovely
enc indeed, who is worthy of such sacri.
fee, and quite as exacting, who demands
it,"
"Sir, she is Of all the Goldcsscs most
adorable beautiful than Venus
chastc IS Dina-her form graceful as the
fashion of the angels-her forehead pale
and rich in intelect-her heart as pure as
the waters that gush from beneath the AL
pine snows--her eye sparkles like stars
that adorn the cloudless sky Of a wintry
night-her lips like the leaf of the lily
her cheeks bloom with the fires Of courage
her voice makes music with the storm-
she playfuly frolics on the bosom Of the
seas--scorns riches and laughs at gcncalc-
gies-makes merry at the pomp Of kings
sometimes she will go tripping in the moon
light, with her garments wet with dew, and
steal from her forest home to speak, and
chide and cheer me At midnight she
bends over my hammock, and drops tear
upon my forehead, and pre- ;ses kiss upon
my fevered lips In the morning her track
less footsteps have borne her far away -
Only yesternight she sat in pcnsive grief
before me-her black ringlets lay loosely
upon her broad shoulders almost breath
less, she caught me by the hand and held
the holy cross before me, and bade me look.
to Heaven With eyes fixed upon the
home of the illustrious dead, of Warren,
and of Brutis,- hands clasped in the
name to fight until she was inathe my
own"
The Colonel remarked, General, you
are extravagant. Pray, where may see
your bridey'
To this the Huguenot replied, "She will.
not see you. You, for paltry dust, have
harmed her and hunt her down. When she
sang by the ocean side, with voice sweet
as the Eolian harp, your intrusive calling
drove her of, when she fed to the noun
tains You sought her there! She pities
you, and hates your sovereign!'
What may call her name ~ inquired
the Colonel with emotion.
''Her name is LIBERTY !" replied Francis
| Marion. "And in her name will fight
until the last tyrHnt has been been driven
| from my home, or until the last drop Of
my Huguenot blood has moistened the
dust of my native land ~
The British soldier snapped his sword
| in twain, to be tieshed in the blood Of his
| kinsman no more forever"