The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1889-05-07

His Words Previous to Signing the
Declaration of independence

Declaration of independence.
Bold and Fiery Speech Delivered al a
rriticaz Period, and Omitted 6y
Compi1ers Of HIS Works
II is in the old Hall in Philadelphia, on
July 4th, I776. There is a silence IN tnis
hall: every voice is hushed, every Iace -
stamped with a deep and aWtul RESPONSE
bility. + door9
WHY is it so terribly still!
The Committee of Three, VINO nave
been out all night planning a parchment
are about to appear.
That parchment, with the signatures OF
these men, written with the pen lying on
wonder table, may either make the world
free or stretch these necks upon the glooet
wonder in Potter's field, or nail these
heads to the d~oor-post of these halls.
That was the time for solemn faces ana
At last, harkI The door opens-the
committee appear. Who are these mel
who come walking on to John Hancock 5
chair?
The tall man, with sharp features, the
hold brow and sand-hued hair, holding
the parchment in his hand, is the Virginia
farmer. Thomas Jefferson. That stout
h,iIt man. with r~esolute look and spark
Iing eve-that is a Boston man, one Jonn
Adams. And the calm-faced man, with
hair dropping in thick curls to his shout
ders: that man dressed in a plain coat and
E1ch odious homemade blue stockings
that is the Philadelphia printer, one Ben
iamin Franklin.
The three advance to the table. The
parchment is laid there. Shall 1t be
signed or notT
Then ensues a high debate; then all the
fa~jnt-hearted cringe in corners, Whne
Thomas Jefferson speaks out his few bold
words and John Adams pours out his
whole soul.
Then the soft-toned voice of Charles
Carroll is heard undulating in syllables OF
But still there is doubt, and that pale
faced man, shrinking in one corner,
H0ueaks out something about axes, scat
folds, and a-gibbet!
"Gibbetr echoes a fierce, bold tone,
that s~tartles men from their seats-and
look vonderl A tall, slender form rises,
dressed, although it is summer time, IN a
faded red cloak. Look how his white
hand trembles, as it is stretched slowly
out: how that lark eye burns while his
words ring through the hall.
"Gibbetl They may stretch our necks
on all the gibbets in the land; they may
turn every rock into a ~scaffold, every tree
into a gallows, every home into a grave,
and vet the words of that parchment can
never die! ,
"They may pour blood on a thousand
scaffolds, and yet from every drop that
dyed the axe, or drops on the sawdust OF
the block. a new martyr to freedom will
spring into BIRTH
"The British king may blot out the
stars of God from His sky, but he cannot
blot out His words written on the parch-
ment there. The work of God may
perish. His word, neverl 80
"These words will 60 forth to the
world when our bones are dust. 10 the
slave in bondage, they will speak hope;
to the mechanic in his workshop, freedom;
to the coward kings these words will
speak, but not in tones OF fattery,f ~4Ibey
viii speak the flaming syllaoles eniBel-
shazzar's wall: The days of your pride
and glory are numbered! The day OF
Judgment draws near!
ayes, that parchment will speak to
kings in language sad and terrible as the
trumpet of the Archangel. You have
trampled on the rights Of mankind long
enough. At last the voice of human woe
has pierced the ear of God, and called His
Judgment down. You have waded on to
thrones through seas of blood; you have
trampled on to power over the necks OF
millions: you have turned the poor mans
sweat and blood into robes for your deli
cate forms; into crowns for your an
nointed brows. Now, purpled hangmen
OF the world. For you comes the day OF
axes, and gibbets, and scaffolds; for you
the wrath Of man for you the lightning
of GodI
"Look how the light of your palaces on
fire flashes up into the midnight sky
Now, purpled hangmen of the world, turn
and beg for mercy Where will you FIND
it2 Not from God, for you have bias
phemed His lawsl Not from the people
Tor you stand baptized in their blood
Here you turn, and 10! a gibbet! There
and a scafold stares you in the face! Al
around you death, but nowhere pity
Now. executioners of the human race
kneel down-yes, kneel down on the
sawdust of the scaffold; lay your per
fumed heads upon the block; bless the
axe as it falls-the axe sharpened for the
poor mans neck.
"Such is the message of the declara,
ton of man to the kings of the world
And shall we falter now? And shall W.
start back appalled,, when our feet pres
the very Threshold of Freedom? d.
you see quailing faces around you, whel
our wives nave been butchered-whel
the -hearthstones of our lands are red will
the blood of little children. What Ar,
there shrinking hearts or faltering voice
here, when the very dead of our battle
parchment, or be aecursed.
"Signl if the next moment the glib
bets rope is around your neck. Signl i
the next moment this hall rings with tn