The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1873-12-04
The Cuban cause-A Retrospect.


The summary execution of the pa
triots recently captured on the Virgin
ius recalls the fate of others who have
| perished in the same cause. Do yoJ
remember the melancholy story o.
Gabriel Valdez, who was executed IL
Havana in 1874 on the charge of plot
ting the liberation of his country? He
was led from prison, with nineteen
others, to the fatal plaza. He passed
through the streets with the air of q
eonqueror, with a serene face and an
unfaltering step, chanting his prayer in
low but calm voice. When they
reached the plaza he addressed his
companions the last words of farewell
and consolation. He was to suffer first;
and when the signal was given he step
ped into the square, and knelt, with
perfect composure and unbandaged
eyes, before the soldiers who were to
execute the sentence. When the smoke
of the first voIley rolled away it was
seen that he had been wounded in the
shoulder, and had fallen forward bleed
ing and agonized. An irrepressible
murmur of pity and Indignation ran
through the multitude but the mar
tyr, still posed, recovered his posi-
tion, and standing erect, exclaimed !;
g Farewell, world, ever pitiless to me
Fire here 80 placing his hands on his
breast. The last tones of his voice
we're lost in the report of the muskets,
this time more merciful in their mis-
sion. The night before his execution
he penned the following lines to his
mother
The appointed lot has come upon me, mother,
The mournful ending Of my years of strife;
This changing world leave, and to another,
In blood and terror, goes my spirit life
But thou, grief-smiten, cease thy mortal weeping.
And let thy soul its wonted peace regain;
fan for right and thoughts Of thee are sweeping
Across my Tyre to wake its dying strain
strain Of joy and gladness, free, unfalling
All glorious and holy, pure. divine,
Aud innocent, unconscious as the wailing
Twittered at my birth and I resign,
Even now, my life ; even nows descending slowly,
Faiths mantle folds me to my slumbers holy;
Mother, FAREWELL God keep thee, and foreverl
Sad but heroic thoughts of the young
and gifted victim Well has it been
said that such men die not in vain.
''The blood of the martyrs is the seed of
the church"
And thus, likewise, died the gallant
Lopez. When captured with only one
attendant, by the Galatians and their
bloodhOunds, he exclaimed, "Kin me,
but pardon my friends p Desperately
wounded, exhausted by loss of blood
and by hunger, he could scarcely move,
yet, when they came to conduct him to
the place of execution, he stood up
erect and marched with a manly step.
He begged to have a soldiers death,
but submitted with fortitude to the
refusal. In firm voice he declared
that had he taken up arms for liberty ;
that the imputation of plunder and
piracy was a calumny that he medi-
tated only the happiness of his coun-
try, and was ready to perish for the
cause.
The tears of the spectators evinced
their sympathy when he was thrust into
the fatal embrace of the garroter.
" AdSo8, Cuba qasesinda," were the
last words he uttered. No thought of
vengeance disturbed his dying hour.
The "holy faith of Valdez supported
him, and the lifetime affection of his
heart, the dream and inspiration of his
career, dwelt latest upon his memory.
Farewell, mother l'' "Adieu, dear
Cuba 20 and the sublime martyrs slept
in their bloody graves
Shall we speak of the last moments
of our own dead-our kindred and
friends-our Crittenden, Ker, Stanford,
James, and others-who, soon after
ward, were executed on the Famparts of
Havana? {? Not while their bones moldeT
in foreign soil and their blood is still
unavenged. "LeE no man write their
epitaph" while the authors of their ex-
ecution live and prosper. They died as
patriots die-their bitterest pang that
their country might have saved them.
This, indeed, was the sting of death
this it was to die J
We have seen the last words of one OF
this noble band, addressed to his wife
scrawled on his commission with his own
blood" One word from Washington
would have saved u.s." But that word
was never spoken, and branded as "rob-
bers and banditti, " they died.
Death is the common friend or foe,
AS different men may hold,
And at its summons each must go,
The timid and the bold.
But whether on the scsffold high,
Or IN the battles van,
The fittest place where man can lie
Is where he dies for man.
| -NegO Orleans PicGytele.