Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1867-06-14
"REMEMBER PAOLI."
A Legend of the Revolution.
BY GEO. LlPPARD.

/
air of night towers the rock and fort Of
Stony Point.
The Britishers have retired to rest
They sleep in their warm, quiet beds,
American maidens dishonored, and
American fathers with gray hairs dab.
bled in blood.
They shall have merrier dreams soon,
| trow. Aye, aye
All is quiet around Stosy Point-the
sentinel leans idly over the walls that
bound his lonely walk; he gszes down
iato the void of darkness until his glance
falls upon the broad and magnificent
Hudson. He hears nothing and sees
nothing.
1t is pity for that sentinel that his
eyes are not keen and his glance piercing.
Had his eye been little ksener he might
have seen death creeping up that ram
part in hundred shapes he might have
seen the talon.like fingers of the skeleton
god clutching for his own plump British
throat. But his eyesight was not keen !;
more s the pity for him.
Pity it was that the sentinel could not
hear more keenly. Had his ears been
good, he might have heard little whis.
per that went forth from two hundred
tongues around the ramparts of Stony
Point
General, what shall be the word ? |"
And then, had the sentinel inclined
his ear over the ramparts, and listened
very attentively, indeed, he might have
heard the answer, sweeping up to the
heavens like voice of blood
Remember Paoli
Ho, no And so Paoli is to be remem-
bered and so the voice of blood has pot
shrieked in the ears of God in vain.
So vengeance for Paoli is creeping up
the ramparts of the fort. Ho, ho Pity
Lord Grey was not there to see the
glorious sport
The sentinel was not blessed with su-
pernatural sight or hearing he did not
see the figures creeping up the ramparts;
he did not hear their whispers, until
rude hand clutched him by the throat,
and up to heaven went the shout
Remember PaoliF
And then a rude bayonet pinned him
to the wood of the ramparts; and then
the esplanade of the fort and its rooms
and it's halls were filled with silent
avengers, and then came the Britishers,
rusinC from their beds and crying for
quarter, and they had 1.-THE quarter of
Paoli
And then through the smoke, and the
gloom, and the bloodshed of that terrible
night, with the light now falling on his
face, with the CLEAN of starlight or
torch now giving a spectral appearance
to his features, swept on, right over heaps
of dead, one magnificent warrior, grasp
ing a broad.sword in his right hand,
which sternly fell, emitting soldier at
every blow and laying them along the
fort in the puddle Of their own hireling
blood.
Ghost of Paoli, shout Are you not
terribly avenged :
"Spare me; l have a wife-a child /;
they wait my return to England Quar-
ter Quarterp y
~ mind me of man named Shoels-
mire he had a wife and child--a mother,
old and gray haired, waiting his return
from the wars. On the night OF Paoli,
he cried for quarter Such at be got |
give you. Remember Psoli !"
And the broad sword fell on the Brit
on's head.
"SAve me- Quarter I"
How that sword hisses through the air;
Remember Paoli !"
"I have q gray headed father Quar-
ter
al would spare thee, if | dared, but
the ghosts of PaOli nerve my arm.
Hark do you not hear them shrek 2
We had no swords at Paoli Aye. re-
member Paoli T.
And as the beams Of the rising moon
utreamed through yondsr narrow win
dow for a moment, to light up the brow
of the Avenger, dusky with battle smoke,
red with blood, deforned with passion;
behold That sword describes q hsry
circle in the air, it hisseI down, sinks
into the victims skull MOI
His arm falls nervsless by his side
the sword-that grim, rough blade, dented
with the records Of the fight At Brandy
wine-elatters on the floor
at is my duty; the ghosts OF Paoll
call TO me; bat | cannot kill you," shouts
the American warrior; and hit weapon
less hands are extended to the trembling
Briton.
Allarouud is smoke and darkness, and
blood the cry for quarter and the death
senteuce-remember Paoli but here m
the center OF the scene Of slaughter-
yes, in the center Of that stream OF
moonlight pouring through the solitary
window, beheld a strange and impressive
sight
The kneeling form Of a Eray-haired
man Who had grown hoary doing murder
in the name OF King George, his hands
uplifed in trembling suppicaiion, hrs
eyes starting from the dilsted lids, as he
asks Tor the mercy be never gave.