The Western Georgian. (Rome, Floyd County, Georgia) 1838-18??, November 06, 1838, Image 1

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''TPIbTTBs xsy tbs wtbs rßyi Vol. 1., PUBLISHED EVERY TVKSI>AY MORNING BY 3SAMUEIL S JACK. Tci*ms. ’Three Dollars per annum,in six months or four Doi- Urs at the expiration of the year. Subscribers living nut ofthe State, will be expectcdiu all cases to pay in advance. No subscription received for less than one year, unless the money is piid advance; and no paper will be discontinued until all arreargee are pain, ex cept at the option ofthe Publisher. Persons request ing a discontinuance of their Papers, are requested to bear in mind a settlement of their accounts. Advertisements will be inserted nt the usunl rates, when the number of insertions is not specitied, they will be continued until ordered out. [] j* Ann Letters to tho Editor or Publisher, on matters connected with the establishment, must be Post Paid in order to secure attention. 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She fled, with one reproachful look On him who hade her go, And scarcely could the Patriarch brook That glance of voiceless wo; In vain her quivering lips essay’d His mercy to implore, Silent the mandate she obey’d. And there was seen no more. The burning waste and lonely wild Received her as she went, hopeless she clasp’d her fainting ’child, - With thirst and sorrow spent. And in the wilderness so drear She raised her voire on high, And sent forth that heart-stricken | rayct— “Let me not sec him did” tier beautiful, liter only boyq Her all of hope below ! So long his fathet’s pride and joy, And yet from him tho blow? Alone she must hie head sustain, And watch his sinking breath, And on his bright brow mark the stain Os the destroyer, Death! “Let me not see him die,’’ and lo! Tho messenger of peace: Once more her tears forgot to flow, Once more her sorrows cease. Life strength and freedom now are given With mighty power, to one Who from his father’s roof was driven, And he—the outcast’s eon. How often wo like Hagar moarn, When some unlook’d for blight Drive us away, no more to turn To joys wo fancied bright. Forced from our idols to retreat, And seek tho Almighty's care, Porohance we are sent forth to meet, A desert angel there! XIBCELLA N V. From the Southern Post. A TALE OF SOUTH CAROLINA. It was one of those neat cottages, so often to be mot with in tho Southern States, situated on a commanding eminence, at a little distance from the public road, and surrounded by all the comforts unusually found upon the farm of a Southern Planter, to which the reader’s attention is now directed. The cottage was of tho larger class, and divided into several com partments, but built of log*, the interstices of Which hod been filled with clay and plastered ROME, FLOYD COUNTY, GEORGIA, NOVEMBER, 6, 1838. over with white; On the side facing the’ road, a delicate wood! ine nearly concealed the side of the house, while, near it, several grace ful cedar trees shot up their tiny tops, as if to vie with the majestic oaks which, growing in their natural profusion around, nearly hid the cottage from view with their overspreading branches. Add to this, a neat little flower garden in front, laid out with scrupulous exact ness, and filled with a variety of flowers which shed their fragrance, in every direction, and you may form some idea of the residence of Joseph Wilmer, with whom the reader may become better acquainted - The interior pre sented a scene, if possible, more prepossessing than the outside. The furniture was plain but extremely neat, and disposed with a nicety about the room which betokened the taste of its fair mistress. Near the window were sea ted two persons, evidently deeply absorbed in some important topic* The man, who the rea der will recognise as our hero was about twenty five years of ago, tall and straight, and formed in a mould which indicated great strength and activity.. His face possessed great manly beauty, but, by long exposure to the sun, had acquired a tawny color, which characterized the frontier farmers in the ear lier nges of our country. His companion, whom we introduce ns Mrs. Wilmer, was some years his junior. She was about the common height, rather slender, but with a form of such matchless symmetry, that it would have done honor to the loftiest conceptions of a Ra phael. Ilcr face was not what would be ter med beautiful at first sight, but was of that kmd which discovers some new charm to the beholder whenever contemplated. Her large, | lustrous, dark eye, surmounted by finely arch- j ed eyebrows, formed a sinking contrast to the; exceeding fairness of her skin, while her glos sy hair, which might vie wlth’the raven’s wing, was now neatly tied in a knot upon the crown of her head, except a ringlet here and there which hud escaped from its confinement, and seemed to kiss her check, and revel in the beauty it served to heighten. Such was the woman lo whom Wilmer had given his best,, his earliest affection; nnd whom he still loved ; with an ardor which would bid defiance to all description, and which could only be equalled l>y the frivor with which it was returned. She} had 1 een reared in all the luxury which wealth, aided by the fondness of a doting fa- j ther, could bestow. But this could do no fa jury to a character like hors, formed under the care of a pious mother, who early taught I her the utter insufficiency of all worldly hon-' ors, nnd tutored her to become what she then ', was, the devoted follower of the meek and} lowly Jesus. She had left her parental rdof, and relinquished wealth nnd luxury, to share the fortunes of the poor, but, in many respects, noble Wilnter. What wonder then, tha*. he adored her? What wonder that his hopes nnd I destinies were centered in her? We have' said, they were engaged in conversation, and from the frequent recurrence of tho words whig—lory—Gates—the render need not be I told that our story opens soon after the defeat of tjiat unfortunate General; when brother 1 was arrayed against brother, father against son, and when the very name of wlrg was but '• the passport to destruction. ‘‘But why not join tho army, Joseph?” said the lady. “What? Mary nnd leave you at the mercy , Os those n Branding blackguards?” “Nay, do not fear for me; my sex will be} tny shield. Surely they Would not injure an I Unprotected female?” “Trust them not. They, who would prove reurcant'to the cal! ot their siifleriag country, could not be moved, even by the cricS of atl } injured woman.” “But you would be safe then, and they would have no reason to molest me.” “I cannot trust them;” was the laconic an-' } swer. It was during tho nigh*, after this conversa tion had taken place, when Wilmer had retir od to rest, that he was awakened suddenly by a negro at his window, who hastily told him the lories were coining, and besought him to |fl c. Disregarding the latter injunction, he sprung from his bed, seized his rifle (in the use of which ho was without a superior even lin these troublesome limes) and posting him self by the window, firmly awaiting the arrival j of tho tories. Ho was not kept long in suspense, ; for soon ho heard the trampling of horses, and ! tho fierce and loud laughter of the ap j proaching company. Presently, he saw, by ■ the dim starlight, tho foremost tery entering | the gate, he raised his rifle and took deliberate * aim, when his wife seized his arm. “Hold, Joseph, you will but seal your fate: fly, for in flight only is there safety now. If you remain, destruction is certain.” “But you, Mary!” “Will be safe—fly, or you are lost.” He saw the danger of his situation, and knowing the character of the marauders who now threatened him; he was well aware of the death, that awaited him if he fell into their hands. Already were the tories at the door, struggling for entrance, and donouncing ven. geance against the unfortunate Wilmer. Still was he undetermined whether to flee for W Hdoni,Jnstice, and Mo deration. life, or meet daath in defence of his wife and his home. “Flee?” again exclaimed his wife, as she imploringly threw her arms around his neck, and besought him to save himself before it was too late. He waited for no more but bound- ; ing through an opposite door, was lost to sight just as the tories forced an entrance - “Thank God, he ii safe/’ Said the agonized Mary, as Wilmer cleared the door, nnd the in furiated band rushed in . “The scoundrel is gone, but we’ll save him vet;” cried the leader of the squad, a tall ath letic man, of a dark complexion, with large, black whiskers, which gave him an exceeding, iy fierce aspect. “Had he consulted his own feelings,” said Mary, “you at least, would not have been here to traduce the excellence to which you could never aspire.” “ I suppose,” replied the tory, with an im- 1 pudent sneer, “he showed his courage by lea ving you here to take care of yourself, while he took to the swamp to save his cowardly neck from the halter, he knows he deserves.” The crimson blood instantly suffused her checks —she felt the delicacy of her situation, but resolving to defend her husband’s charac ter as became a woman and a wife, she repli ed. “For myself, my sex should be a protec. tion against men, who, though they are tories, should recollect they are Americans. As to my husband, you perhaps may have an oppor tunity of testing his courage in a manner you will not relish.” “No, I never relish running through the [ swamps at night after a vagabond who trusts j more to his heels than his hands.” • “The scamp is a long ways off by this time, Guess,” eaid an overgrown wretch, as he 1 rftdly thrust Mary aside with such violence as to throw her against the wall, and was pro ceeding to her apartment. “Not so far as you think,” said a hoarse voice from without, as the report of a rifle was heard, and the villain fell prostrate, weltering in bis gore. Tn an instant, Wilmer rushed in, almost frantic with rage: the veins on his forehead were swelled .almost to bursting; his brows were contracted until they almost met; his fist clenched, and he seemed altogether the pic ture of desperation. Seizing the rifle of tho dead man, before the tories recovered fiom their surprise, he prostrated another, and the ponderous weapon was lifted oVer the head of the leader, when ho received a blow from be hind which staggered him, and before he re covered, he was Overpowered by numbers. ■ Still, however, he continued to struggle with the desperate valor of a man who is conscious that his all is at slake, and aided by the faith ful Pompey, had nearly disengaged himself, when Mary, thinking her presence Would be a shield against the repeated blows aimed at her husband, threw herself between him and his enemies. Regardless of her danger, the leader directed a furious thrust at Wilmer, which entered the bosom of his wife—it reach ed her heart, and she fell without a groan. “Unhand me,” cried Wilmer, in a voice of 1 thunder, as with a superhuman effort he dash- ■ cd them aside, and kneeled beside her pros i train body. His feelings may be imagined— they cannot be described. For sometime, not I a weird waS spdken; but burst after burst of grief which escaped him, showed but too I plainly that his was a wound that time could • not cure. The tories involuntary shrunk from the contemplation of a scene in which j they had baen such prominent actors, nnd stood round silently awaiting the issue. Sud denly he became calm, and erecting hiS noble form to its full height, and raising his now I pale countenance towards heaven, he swore, by the lifeless corpse, of her he loved so well, ! that henceforth his life should bo devoted to ’ vengeance, until it should be Satiated by the , death of her murderer. Then springing at the tory captain, unarmed as he was, he Seized 1 him by the throat, and before they were a- • ware of his intentions, by an art well known, tripped his legs from under him, nnd they bo s h rolled together on the floor. They struggled violently for some moments, each endeavoring to obtain the mastery and their motions were so rapid, that the tories were afraid to strike, lest they should wound their leader. By de- | grees, Wilmer’s efforts become feebler, until at last overcome by his own feelings, and exhaus ted by the violence of his exertions, he sunk upon the floor. Seizing the opportunity, they bound him, placed him on a horse and setting fire to the house, rodeotT. They proceeded at a rapid pace about the distance of a mile, when they arrived at a house bordering the swamp. Dismounting they entered with the freedom of those who were assured of’ a hear ity welcome. Within was seated a man, a lone and apparently absorbed in meditation, whose open countenance, and broad thick set form, proclaimed him a native of the Emerald Isle. Between this man and Wilmer had long existed an unalterable friendship; and although, j at the commencement of the war, they had cs -1 poused different sides, yet each had pledged himself to assist the other, whenever occasion required. Nothing could exceed his surprise and indignation when he heard of his friend’s misfortunes, and saw him before him; his hands tier] behind him like a felon! his clothes torn and bloody, and every feature giving in dications of the intensity of his anguish. He vented his anger against the captain in such language as his feelings suggested, and with the volubility that characterizes his na tion. Stung with remorse, arid maddened to desperation, lhe latter declared his intention of sacrificing Wilmer in reVenge for his mur- ■ dered companions. “Touch him if you dare!” said the gener ous Irishman, in the Warmth of his feelings, as he placed himself before his friend and pre sented his rifle, “Touch him if you dare, and, upon my honor, your life will be the forfeit.” “But, come,” said he, suddenly changing his manner, and producing a jug, ‘come let us , take a drink,” The tories crowded round the liquor, and, he. seeing his opportunity, dexterously cut the chords that bound Wihnei and handing him a rifle, besought him to flee. “No! life is of no use after I shall obtain vengeance, and now is my time,” said the lat ter as he raised his rifle. “For God’s sake Wilmer;” said McDef mot grasping the rifle, “for your owrt sake, think! my life as well as your own is at stake if you fire; you will have a better chance. To the swam! 1 will manage the rest.” Wilmer reluctantly left the house-, and di rected his steps towards the swamp. Scarce, , however, had he reached it, before the tories j discovered his escape and immediately set out in pursuit - Heedless of the directions of Mc } Dermot, who tried to mislead him, and char ! grined at being twice foiled, the tory captain [ hastily ordered a few of his men to pursue an [ Opposite course and dashed into the swamp I with the rest, in the direction Wilmer had ta i ken. The day was dawning, and by the im ' perfect light he saw his enemies approaching; | placing himself behind a tree, he cocked his I rifle and awaited their arrival. “I will have “revenge now,” muttered he as he singled out the murderer of his wife, and levelled his piece. The tories rushed on ' unconscious of their danger, until they came I opposite the place he was standing, the report ' of a rifle echoed through the woods, the tory [ gave an unearthly cry and fell dead upon the ‘ s P ot ‘ . “Mary! you are revenged,” said Wilmer, j a'S he stepped from his hiding place, and re i ceived a dozen bullets in his breasts. ♦ *•***** Tile farmer’s plough now passes over the ‘ spot where Me Dermot laid him, with the ash ies of his wife; an I many years have rolled i their careless course along, since he fell, a vic i tim to his love and rashness. Stranger! A tear to his memory. C. I GYeenslorough Georgia. THRILLING SKETCH. “A portal of the arena opened, and the com batant, with a mantle thrown over his fade and figure, was led in surrounded by the Soldiery. The lion roared and ramped against the bars of his den at the sight. The guard put a sword and buckler into jhc hands rs the Chris tian, and he was left alone. He drew the mantle from his face, and firmly looked around the am| hitheatre. His fine countenance and lofty bearing had raised n universal cry of admiration. He might have stood for an Apol lo encountering the Python. His eyes at last raised to mine. Could I believe my sense*? Constantins was before me? “All mv rancor vanished. An hour past I ' could have struck my betrayer to the heart— I could have called ou the severest vengeance of man and heaven to smite the destroyerof my child. But, to see him hopelessly doom ed; the man whom I had honored for his no ble qualities, wh >m I had ever loved, whose crime was at the worst, but the crime of giv ing way to the strongest temptation that can bewilder the heart of man —to see this noble creature flung to the savage beast, dying in torture, torn piecemeal before my eyes, and his misery wrought by me. I would hive en treated heaven and earth to Save him. But my tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth. My limbs refused to stir. I would have thrown myself at the feet of Nero; but I sat like a man of stone —pale, paralyzed—the beating of my pulses stopt. “ The gate of the den was thrown back, and the lion rushed in with a roar and a bound that bore him half across the arena. I saw the sword glitter in the air; when it waved a gain, it was covered with blood. A howl told that the blow had been driven home. The hon, one of the largest from Numidia, and ; mad? furious by thirst and hunger, an animal • of prodigious power, crouched as if to make sure of his prey, crept a few paces onward, and sprang at the victims throat/ He was met by a second wound, hut this impulsO was irresistable, and Constantius was flung upon the ground. A cry of natural horror rang a round the amphitheatre. The struggle was now for an instant; life or death. They rolled over each other—the lion reared upon his hind ’ feet, and with gnashing teeth and distended } talons, plunged on the man—again they rose together. Anxiety was now at its wildest height. The sword swung round the cham pion’s head in bloody circles. The hand of Constantius had grasped the lion’s mane, and the furious bounds of the monster could not loose the hold, but his strength was evidently giving way—“-he still struck terrible blows, but each blow was weaker than the one before—- till collecting his whole force for a last effort, he darlecl one mighty blow into the lions throat, and sank. The savage yelled, and spouting out blood, fled howling round the arena. But the hand grasped the mane and there his con querer was dragged whirling through the dust at his heels. A universal outcry now arose to save him if lie were not already dead. But the lion, though bleeding at every vein, was still too terrible, and all shrunk from the haz» Card. At last the grasp gave way and the body lay motionless upen the ground. “What happened for some moments after I know not. There was a struggle at the por tal: a female forced her way through the guards, rushed in alone, and flung herself upon the victim. The sight of a new prey roused the lion; he tore the ground with his talons he lashed his streaming side with his tail; he dreaded the sword, apd came snuffing the blood on the sand, and stealing round the body in circuits still diminishing. “The confusion in tho vast assemblage was now extreme. Voices innumerable called luf aid. Women screaming and fainting; mefl burst into indignant clamors at this prolonged cruelty. Even the hard hearts of the popu» lace, accustomed as they \Vere to the sacrifice of life, were aroused to honest curses. The guards grasped their arms, and waited for a sign from the Emperor. But Nero gave no sign-. “I looked upon the woman’s face. It was Salome! I sprang upon my feet: I called her by every feeliag of nature to fly from that place of death, to come to my arms, to think of the agonies of all that loved her. ‘She had raised the head of Constantids on her knee, and was wiping the pale visage with her hair. At the sound of my voice she look ed up, and calmly casting back the locks from her forehead fixed her eyes upori me. She still knelt; one hand supported the head’, with the other she pointed to it, as her only answer. I again adjured her. There was the silence of death aqjOrig the thousand's around rtle; A fire flashed in her eyes—her cheek hbrned.— She waved her hand with an air of stiperb sorr.O'V; “1 am come to die,” she uttered in a lofty tone. “This bleeding body was my husband. I have ho father. The world to me but this clay in my arms. Yet,’ and She kiss, ed the ashy lips before her. ‘Yet my Con starttius, it was to-saVethat father that your generous heart defied the peril of this hour. It was to redeem him from the hand of the evil, that you abandoned your quiet home! — you, cruel father, here lies the noble being that threw open your dungeon, that led you safe through the conflagration, that to the last moment of. his liberty, only thought how lie might preserve and protect you ’ Tears at length fell in floods from her eyes. ‘But,’ said she in a tone of wild power, ‘he was be trayed, and may the powers, whose thunders avenge the cause of his pedple; pour down just retribution upon the head that dared ’ p ‘I heard my dwn condemnation about to ba pronounced by the lips df my child. Wound up to the last degree of suffering, 1 tore my hair, leaped upon the bars before me, and plunged into the nrena by her side. The height Stunned ine; 1 tottered a few paces and fell. The lion gave a roar and sprang upon me. I lay helpless under him- 1 felt his fie ry breath—l saw his liicid eye glaring; 1 heard the gnashing of his white fangs above me. ‘Ari exulting shout arose. I saw him reel as if struck; gore filled his jaws. Another mighty blow was driven to his heart, lie sprang high in the air with a howl - He drop ped—he was dead; Tho amphitheatre thun dered with acclamations, While Salome was clinging to my bosons. Constantius raised me from the ground. Tho roar of the lion had roused him from his swoon, and two blows saved me; The falchion was broke in the heart of the monster - The whole multitude Stood up, supplicating for our lives in the name of filial piety and heroism. Nero, ; devil as he was, dared not resist the strength ■of the popular feeling. He waved a signal |to the guards; the portal w - as opened; and my children, sustaining my feeble steps and show, ered with garlands nnd ornaments from innu merable hands, slowly led me from lhe are na.— Salalhicl. We think we do not transcend the bounds of truth when we say there arc one hundred rats for every human being in St. Louis. There are at least one thousand m our office. We could stand a siege as long as any body - Missouri Argus. A branch of the Illinois State will shortly commence operations in Belle viUe.—' AO 43,