The Columbia Democrat. (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1837-1850, February 11, 1843, Image 1

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t have sworn upon the Altar of God, e tenia! hostility to every form of Tyranny over the Mind of Man." Thomas Jtflerson
MINTED AND PUBLISHED BY II. WEBB.
Volume "YB.
JTOLOOMSBUKft, COLUMBIA COUNTY, PA. SATURDAY, FEBRUARY U, 1843. ' Number 4'
OFFICE OF THE DEMOCRAT
Opposite St. Paul's Church, Main-st
The COLUMBIA DEMOCRAT mil hi
published every Saturday morning, at
TWO DOLLARS per annum payable
half yearly in advance, .or Two Dollars
Fifty Cents, if not paid within the year.
No subscription will betaken for a short tf
period than six months; norany discon'
tinuance permitted, until all arrearages
are discharged.
ADVERTISEMENTS no exceeding a
square will be conspicuously" inserted at
One Dollar for the first three insertions,
and Twenty-Jive cents for every subsc.
quent nserlion. VCjpA liberal discount
made to those who advertise by the year.
LETTERS addressed on business, must
be posttpftidi, .
' '' From' tliorDcmocr'alic Review. '
X HARRY'BLAKE. X t ,
i. stonr "or cihcvhstXkti al evidence, ronKDED
' " ok ricT. ' , '
BY THE jAUTHOH OF "LUCV CRAWFORD.'
' i
CHAPTER VI.
By daybreak the country around" was as
tfr; men singly, and squads of three" and
four women and children old and young,
liale, (he sick, the decrepit, were all in
inoiiun, and drifting, tike a sluggish cur
rent, towards tlio scene of execution.
It Mras a large field, in a retired, out of
tlio way" spot, hemmed in by trees; a place
whose silence and solitude were rarely'
ilistuibed; yet now it hummed with life.
Fences, rocks, and .every little eminence of
ground, were packed with people. The
were ciowded with .masses of human
lm liiinn- llkR nrn from llicir
-...-, p .
ranches, and near the foot ol the gallows,
he eatth was black with them, crammed
lid wedged together, hot a foot not an
nch to spare. There tvas a great sea of
aces, junieu.up ai one time io me ian
ratne-worK aoove inem; ai anoiuer, iu-
ards whcie the far' distant road wound"
mongthe hillsl Occasionally theie was a
sufife,, antl the, jnass rocked Id and fro.like
forest waving, before, the wind and then
ame curves and. execrations from the wri-
imr multiJude: but by degrees, the tu-
uli subsided, ariif they were qiliet again.
linn tfiov lrtntrd nt tha" sun. and wonder-
11 ,... -..I.I . .1....
ere wearyjwith wailing. Somo spoke of
in, as'.of an old friend. He was a fine fel
w they had known him from childhood.
las he conefssed yet!' inquired one,
0, nol.'he, not he,' was the reply, 'He'll
give up till the last; it's thought he'll
it then. 1 heard some one say; that od
aleb Uravson was all last nieht in tits
, trying- to pump it out of him; but he
s irnmn i.nlnh rnulil ufil nnlhimr lrom
D W
11.' 'Come, I like that,' said the other,
ibing bis hands together. 'That's so
e Harm I'll bet ten to one, he II not
w the white feather at tlio last. Ha '.
id's thl!'
s he spoke, he pointed to a tall swar
man, who was seer, forcing his way
ungh the ciowd; jostling them hitlier and
Her, heeding not" tlio grumblings and
sings wnicti loiioweu nun, as ue uraggeu
1 sen on: once or iwicc. as some leuow
re suiniv i nan me rest wii nstoou nun.
turned and glanced at him, with a look
ucli savage and bitter again, that the
11 was pi ad io lei turn nass. J nus on
went, until ho reached 'the foot of the
a ,
ows; and there he fixed himself, taking
of no one, and regardless that' even
ml dense crowd a small circle was
led around him. as if there were con
nation in hi touch. Above him, from
ross-pleee of the gallows, the cord
- w
nj to and fro in the wind; and at times,
raised his aye to it, a amle crossed
ice, giving to it a strangely wild ex-
sion, ihat was long remembered'bv
1 who saw him there,
here'll boon be something to tigVten
stood nearest to him, with his good
ed eyo runninir from the speaker to
f
the cord, as if it struck bim, that the weight 1
it..:..- t .1 .
nisi lining lur uiai purpose were nearer
ihan he imagined.
'Yrs, there will, more's the pity,' said
ih'e man, in reply to the remark, afict pau
sing for some lime, sis if in doubt whether
it merited one, 'I for one am sorry for it.'
'Would you have the murderer escape!'
demanded the stranger.
'Let him hang when he is found, say I,'
rrp'ied the man, 'but Harry Blake denies
that he did it, and I believe him.'
Again that strange smile passed across
the stranger face, as he said, 'Twelve
sworn men, all of whom knew and liked
Blake, heard the testimony, and said that
he did it.- What mote would you want!-'
'I want Harry Blake's" own confession,
and we would have it if he was guilty.
That's whal I want. I wish to Heaven. I
had found him with tho murdered man, 1
'would have soon known, the truth. I went
lio ti-c. spot tho next day, .but' it was too
late. - , . .
'What do.you know!' inquiicd the stran
ger with some inteicst.
The man moved a little nsidc.antl show
ed the head of a large dog, who was seated
near him, .with his nose thrust forward, al
most touching the stranger. 'I went wi'ih
thai dog to the spot, and-1 put his noso to
the track. Ho went round and round, and
over tho ground for moro than a quarter ol
a milo. In tho woods ho futind an old hat,
which ho lore to rags. I believe ii belong
ed to the true murderer, (ho was smelling
that hat this very morning, for I took it
with me,) bul he lost tho seen-
carried him to Hatty Blake; but he would
not touch him.'
'A strange dog.'
'Damme sir!' said the man earnestly,
Do you know that he's been snuffing
about you for the lust ten minutes. Curse
me if 1 havn'i my suspicions of you; d d
if I havn'i.'
'The sjranger's eyes fairly g'owed as he
returned his look; and then he burst into a
loud Inugh.and turned, to those around:
Hear himl He says I murdered Wick
liffe; because bis dog smells at my knee.
Ha! ha!" ha! Why don't you arrest me!
.demanded he tutnjng to the, msn.
The, man evidently abashed at this ab-
tupt question, shook his head, muttered
something between his icolh, and remained
silent; and the stranger, after eyeing him
for several moments. seeing that ho was not
disposed for further conversation, and ap
parently not caring to be the object of at
tention to all eyes, as he evidently then
was, moved off, among the cowd ,and sta
tioned himself on the opposite side of the
gallows.
The time lagged heavily. 1 he crowd
. , . , 1" . . . i
grew restless anu uneasy; ana uere ana
there, one or two, irritated beyond their pa
tience commenced a quairel, which came
to blows. 1 his created a temporary ex
citement, but it was soon over, ami by de
grees they grew wearied again. They
stamped their feet on the ground, to keep
them war n. The farmeis talked of their
harvest and of their stock. Some of them,
gaped and yawned, and fell sound asleep
as they stood there. Young girls flirted
with and ogled their sweet-hearts, and there
was many a pretty face in that crowd, whoso
owner had been induced to come only for
the sake of him who was to escort her there
and who was thinking uioio of the young
fellow who stood at her side in his best ap
parel, than of Harry Blake. These, and
the'tioops of liberated schoolboys, to whom
a holiday was a great lining, even though
bought al the life of a fellow-being, were the
only persons unwearied.
But tho time came at last, and a loud cry
arnes in ilie distance and swept along
ihtouglr that multitude, becoming louder
and louder, Qntil it reached the gallows;
and the whole mass swayed backwatd and
forward, and rushed and crowded together,
as in tho distance tho prisoner was seen ap
nroschinir. With a slow steady paco, the
qoldieia which escorted him came, forcing
open the throne, and keeping an open
it - -
space around the can which conveyed him
Harry Blake was exceedingly pale, but lib
inauuur was compospa, and Ins eyo calm
and blight a in his best days, and many
a hp as he passed, muttered a God Uess
him.
Hespokn to no one; although his face
oi.ee or twice faintly lighted with a look o(
iccogniiion as he saw a familiar face
When he reached the foot of the scaiTolil
his eye fur a moment rf.sleil nn Caleb Gray-
son looking imploringly toward him. The
old man caught his glance and exclaimed
as hi ascended tho steps'
'Now Harry d) confess; do Hirry for
God's sake !'
Blake shook his head. 'No Caleb, 1
cannot, for I am innoeeut.'
Thpse were his last words; for in a few
minutes tho drop fel.l, and noor'"BIake's
earthly career was ended.
ilia.! lia !', exclaimed the same swar'hy
man who had stood during tho whole 'time
at the foot of, the gallows', anifwhom Gray
sou recognized as the person that he had.
mel'at thq lnn the night previous. 'Tha
business is over. Thai's law!1 And with
nut noticing tho startled looks of those
about him, with the same recklessness
which he lud displayed in coming he for
ced his way through the crowd and disap
pcated.
CHATTim VIlV
About three months 'after tho execution
l - ; f
of Blake, thejudge who presided al. the tri
al received a note from a prisonersj."'?
. . , . . -..woiig io see til ii (
S0nlr -f- . n ..
without delay, as his sentence was to be
carried into effect on the day following.
On his way thither 'ho ov,ertopk jm old
man walking slowly along the road on ac
costing whom he recognized Caleb Gray
son who had been a witness at Blake's trial
The old man had received a note similar Io
his own;' and was going lo the sumo place,
though lie-was equally al a loss to know the
Weaning of the summons. They both 'en
tered, tlie cell together.
The prisoner was, seated at.a wooden ta
ble, with & small lamp in front of him, his
forehead leaning on' his hand 'which slia
ded his eyes from llie.jight. lie. was a full
gaunt man, with dark sunken eyesand un
shorn beard and -yellow cheeks. He look
ed like one worn down by suffering' and
disease; yet one whom neither disease iiqr
suffering could conquer, and to whom re,
morse was .unknown. He did not move
when his visiters entered"olherwisc than
raise, his head. As he did so Grayson re'
cognized at a gjanco the stranger whom he
had seen at the tavern the night bofurc
Blake's execution;. and at the gallows.
'Well judge' said he, as soon as he saw
who they were, 'I sont for you to see if you
can'i get me out of Jhjsj scjape. , Must I
hang to morrow!' " ,
Thojiidgo shook" his'head. 'It's idle' to
hope, said lie: 'nothing can prevent your
execution.'
'An application might be made to the
higher authorities,' said the'prisoner. 'Par
dons haVc come, you know 'even' on the
scaffold.'
'Nona will come in your case',' replied
the magistrate.. 'It is needless for me to
dwell on your offence now; but it was one
that had no palliation, and yon may rest as
sttrou thai wnatever may nave occurred m
other cases, no pardon will come in yours.
In fast, I understand that an application has
been made for one, by your counsel, and
has been refused.'
The features of the prisoners underwent
the change; nor did tho expression of ,his
face alter, in ths least. But after a mo
mcnt'a pause, he said; 'In this hue j'udge
upon your hbnor!'
'If is, replied the judge. .
'Then I know ihc worst,' .replied the
criminal coldly, 'and will now tell, what I
nave to communicate, which I would not
havo done, whilo there was a hope of es
capo. Yout' said he, turning to the judge
'presided at the trial of young Henry
Blake, who was accused of murder, and
sentsnoed him to death.'
I dil.' '
And you,' said ho turning lo Grayson,
'were one of tho witnessess against him. '
You swore that you saw him stab Wick'
liffe. On your testimony, principally, he
was hung.'
'I was,' replied the old man; 'I saw him
whit my own eyes.'
The prisoner uttered low snecrine
laugh, as he said, turning to thejudge:
'inu, sir, sentenced an innocent man.'
'And you,' .said he, turning to the olhet,
swore to a falsehood. Harry Blake, did
not kill Wickliffe. He was, as innooent of
iho sin of murder as vou" were more inno'
cent than Vou arc now.
The old mnn, staggered as if ho had been
ttuck.and learned against the table to sup
port himself; whilst the condemned Won
'tood opposite hiln.Iookinjr at him with a
cold indifferent air.
Yes, ojd man,' said ho sternly, 'you!
have biood ahd.perjury on your soul, for l(
aid he, stepping forward, so that tho Hirhl
if the lainp fell stronlcy upon his savnnp
leatures, 'I murdered William Wickliffe!
I did it! Thank God, I did it, fori had a
long score to settle with him. Bui Blake
"d'ho hand in it. I met Wiekliffe on that
afternoon, alono with none to interfere
between us. I told him of the injuries he.
had done mo, and I told him that tho time
was crime for redress. He endeavored io
escape; bul I followed him up; I grappled
with him, and slabbed him. As 1 did so I
brant..!.-, -' - . -".ui.TTIUlJ )
ttaped into a . clump of bushes hiVJ, ,,.,
at the road side. At that moment Blake
came up, and found Wickliffe. lying dead
in the road. You-know the .rest. Tho tale
he told was as true as the Gospel. He
was only attempting to draw the knife from
the man s breast' when vou camp nrt and
harmed . him with the .crime, of murdcrl'
'Good, God.l Qap. litis be, posriblef ejaO'
ulated iho old fiia'n. 'It cannot! Villain.
voii'arc a liar!'
i'shaw!' muttered tho man- 'What
coujd I gain by a lie! To-inorrow I die.
I don't believe it! I don't believe It!'
exclaimed Grayson, pacing th'ojcelJ, 'and
that itmay jajsc;! thathis ,'drea'dful sin
pi ay ppt be,upuu4pjcA' . . . .
The prisoner sat down, anil lookell at
the-jmlgd- and'lho' witness wilh a calmness
whlf'h' Imil'lnmoflmirt .ImA.t ComH'M.
ijMt wlierj, contrasted with the extreme
agitation of th'o. one, and the metal agony
of the other." '
At last the old man stopped in front of
him; and with a calmness so suddenly a"s
sumed in the midst of his paroxsyms of re
morse; that even overawed the criminal.
taid; 'You are one whose life has been
a tissue of falsehood and" crime. You
must prove what you have said, or I'll not
licheve il.' .
Be it Bo;"repIicd the 'prisoner. I was
the whole, tiansaction, and heard ail' your
testimony at tho trial; for I was thcro too
I'll now icll yoti what occurred a 'the spot
oi me murdor, which you did not mention,
but which-1 saw. When you rodo up, the
man wilh you jumped off his' hnise and
seized Blake by the. collar: your hat fell off
on tho ponmcl of your saddle, but vou
caught it before il reached the ground.
You than sprang off your horsc.and whilst
alton held Blako, you examined the bo
dy. You attempted to pull the knife from
his breast, but it was covered with blood.
and slipped from your fingers. You rub
bed your hand on Ihe ground, and going lo
& bush on the road-side, broke off somo
leaves and wiped your hands upon them,
and alterwarus the handle of the knifo.
You then drew it out, and washed it in, a
small puddle of water at iho foot of a su
mach bush. As you did so, you looked
round at Blake, who was standing wilh his
f.i t..i -j i
arms toiueu, ana woo uatd, 'Don't bo un-
eisy abou me Caleb; 1 didn't kill Wick
tine anu uon i intend to escape.' At one
time you were within six feet of whore I
was. ltnlucky'you did not find mo, for
I was ready at that moment (o send yo
to keep company with Wickliffe; but I saw
all,, oven when you, stumbled and, dropped
your gloves as you mounted.your horse.'
'God havo mercy on mo!' ejaculated
Grayson. 'This is all true! But oho
word more. I heard Wickliffe.as'we rodo'
up, shriek oirt, 'Mercy; mcrcyHarry!' k
no was begging for his lifoMv first'
namy is Harryl ' t I f
The old man clasped his hand across his
face, and fell senseless on tho floor.
It is needleos to go jpio. tho details of th'o" -
piisoner's confession, which was so full
nnd;r!car, that il left no doubt on tho raind?
of the judge jha he wbs guilty "of, Wicki-
hffe s murder, and that Harrv Blako was
another of those vho had gone .to swell the
list ot victims to Circumstantial Evidence.
Fashion for Fedruaru.'Ezr A tans' 9r
much' Worn by ihe ladies, and drons ar tha'
nose by small children. Cardinals are more
in fashion than the cardinal virtues. Dresses
H'o how made fuller behind than' we ever'
saw them befor, and it is quite a pleasanV
morning's cxcur.ibn lo circumnavigaro' Ii
full dressed belie. Sacks aro the' 'walking1
costume of the gentlemen whether' given'
lo them by the ladies or not.wo 'canaot sayi
Gentlemen's boot ere now made too small
for tho feet so much so, that in eomej
cases the toes peep throueh Ihem. Feathere1
and jewels are' much in vogue and 'much"'
credit is given to tho IniliM for thefr taste J
in ihn r-rViculars. Thin' shoes for walv
iog ara an article of genera con'surDritirTn"-3'
' . ' ,:iH
Motto . Extra. 'A' paper dowpteast hV
this motto over 'head ' of its ""editorial 'cdl
lums: - ul ' ' ' 't
We'll gaily chase' dull care a"way.vflwwt'
And banish every sorrow,
Subscribers pjy your debts to day; 't
And wo'll pay ours to-moirow. ' r',w
An Irishman having hired a saddle horse,'
mounted the animal with, his .face towards
thetaijr Te hostlc'r told him he ws on
wiong end foremost. 'Och! and sure, said,
Pat, and how-do ,you knp.w which .way. Ji
rm going., So get up. awkward critter. -.'.,
,,, . - i- - t ' - ; i'
"When a gentleman is hanged for spnao,.
crime, it is impolite to throw it up in, a
course way, to bis relations; but.vou may,
go i Iy touch your, neck, under the ihe left
o i r nt, If, hah , tinirn, onrl airirli nvmn ...n
WH. II III , wu u.lV.a HIIU 0I4MWIT 1'IUIIUIIIIICO
tho word 'herein. n
Girls want nothinir
but husbands, 'an'd
when they have got them, they 'want.eve'rv
thing; - ' - -J-
Preltu Fair. All a moetin? on j recent
U O ' "
occasion, in a town in New Hampshire, th'a1
nroacher addressed his coii'rccation in the
fnllnuiiiiT fltvla lf' ' 'I
'My hearers, some of our brethern' tell
us that the Lord is coming in power and
glory on the 23d of April next, "when" lima'
will end anu the elements melt With fervent
heat. They say they shall want nothinir
after the date and are consequently neglect'
ing their fields and suffering their property
to'wiste! 'Now my friends, I tliink'tnisTa
ry unwise even supposing thefr belief to b"3
correct. I shall act on a different principle!
The Lord should be treated aa becomesMiis
greatness and majesty. My house want
paint, and I shall paint it; and my fences
need repair, aad I shall icpa'ir them;" so that
if ho does appear "at the time appointed'-ho
may be decently received.'
If vou meet a man who is your debtor
don't abuse him don't dun himbut taito
him kindly by the hand, evince an interest
for him. narl with him eood humoredlv if
he is not a scoundrel ho will reinlve'to'pay
you the earliest possible moment, When
flit ft II ID ft H tni l!hlnniB ftfei'-ft
' evii tiiut siuuiivou vibt
ao,
complishei more than anger.
Justice fs a duly generosity a-viriue.
Yot tha world is too vpt to - regard the
first as a farour and the leilo; as '
ofliy., . :