Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1886-10-11
ST. NIICHAEL's CHURCH.
How a Slaves Heroic Act Saved st. Mich
ael's and Secured His Freedom.

The following poem about St. MichaePs
Church, Charleston, S, c., which was almost
destroyed by the earthquake, will be familiar
to many, as it has often been recited by Mrs.
Dainty and other readers.
DO you beg for a story, my darling, my brown
eyed Leopold;
ana you, Alice, with face like morning, and
curling locks of gold;
Ihen come, If you viii, and hsten-stand
close beside my knee
To tale Of the Southern city, proud Charlie s.
ton by the sea-
1t was long ago, my children, ere ever the sig
nal gun
That blazed about Fort Sumter had wakened
the North as one;
Long ere the wondrous pillar of Battle-cloud
and fire
Had marked whore the unclaimed millions
marched on TO their hearts desire.
On the roofs and the glitterlug turrets, that
night, as the sun went down,
The mellow glow of the twilight shOne like
jewcled crown;
And, bathed in the living glory, as the people
lifted their eyes,
They saw the pride of the city, the spire of st.
MichaePS rise.
High over the lesser steeples, tipped with the
golden ball
That hung like a radiant planet caught in its
earthward fall
First glimpse of home to the sailor who made
the harbor round,
And last slow-fading vision dear to the out
ward bound.
The gently gathering shadows shut out the
waning light;
The children prayed at their bedsides as you
will pray tonight;
The noise of buyer and seller from the busy
mart had gone,
And in dreams of peaceful morrow the city
slumbered on.
But another light than sunrise aroused the
sleeping street.
For cry was heard at midnight, and the rush
of tramping feet
Men stared ut each others faces through
mingled fire and smoke
While the frantic bells went clashing, clamor-
Gus stroke on stroke.
By the glare of her blazing tree the houseless
mother fed,
With the babe she pressed to her bosom
shrieking in nameless dread
| While the fire-king's wild battalions scaled
wall and capstOue high,
And planted their faring banners against an
inky sky.
From the death that ragged behind them, and
the crash of rum loud
To the great square of the city, were driven
the surging crowd,
Where yet, firm in all the tumult uuscratched
by the fiery food,
With its heavenward-pointing finger the
Church Of st. Michael stood.
But even as they gazed upon it there rose
a cry Of horror, blended with the roaring of
the gale,
On whose scorching wings, up driven, a single
Aloft on the towering steeple chung like
bloody hand.
''Will it fade?" The whisper trembled from
thousand whitening lips;
Far out Oh the lucid harbor they watched it
on the ships
a baleful CLEAN that brighter and ever bright
e. ShOne,
Like hickering trembling will-o'-wisp to a
steady beacon grown.
"Uncounted gold shall be given to the man
whose brave right hand
For the love Of the peried city plucks down
yon burning brandt
So cried the Mayor of Charleston, that the
people heard
But they looked each one at his fellow, and no
man spoke word
Who is it leans from the belfry, with face up
turned TO the sky,
Clings to q column and measures the dizzy
sprc with his eye?
Will he dare it, the hero undaunted, that ter
llble siclSening hightI
Or will the hot blood of his courage freeze in
his veins at the sight?
But, see! he has stepped on the railing; he
Climbs with his feet and his hands;
And firm on the narrow projection, with the
belfry beneath him, he stand;
Now once, and once only, they cheer him-a
single tempestuous breath
And there falls on the multitude gazing
hush like the stiffness of death.
Slow steadily mounting. unheeding aught
save the goal of the fire,
Still higher and higher an atom, he moves on
the face Of the spire
He stopsl VIII he fall? Lol for answer
CLEAN like a meteor track.
And, hurled on the stones of the pavement,
the red brand hes shattered and black.
Once more the shouts Of the people have rent
the quivering air;
And at tic church-door Mayor and Council
wait, their feet on the stair;
And the eager throng behind them press for
touch Of his hand
The unknown savior, whose daring could
compass deed so grand.
But VIII oes a sudden tremor seize on them
while they gaze?
And what meaneth that su3ed murmur of
wonder and amaze?
He stood at the gate of the temple he had per-
lied his life TO save;
And the face.of the hero, my children, was
the sable face Of a slave.
With folded arms he was speaking, in tones
that were clear, not loud,
And his eyes, blaze in their sockets, burnt
into the eyes Of the crowd
You may keep your gold; scorn it; but an
swer me, ye who can,
If the deed have done before you was not
the deed of q man?"
He stepped but a short space backward; and
from all the women and men
There were only sobs for answer; and the
Mayor called for pen,
And the great seal of the city, that he might
read who ran;
And the slave who saved ST. MchacPs went
out from its door, a man.
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