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INGDON JOUR
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WHOLE No. 163. i
TERIVIS
OF TITS
ETTNTINGDON :017RMIZa.
The "Journal" will be published every
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ae continued, it will be kept in till ordeed;
but, and charge accordingly.
TH E GARLAND.
-"With sweetest flowers enricli'd
From various gardens cull'd xith care."
In order to show the , signe of the Tiihe'
we copy the following lines from the Boston
Atlas;
Harrison and Liberty
Bring festive wreaths and rosy wine—
Bring flowers to gem the minstrel lyre—
A nation's pledge at freedom's shrine
Is breathing fi om its strings of fire;
Bid music tones of gladness tell
To the sild winds o'er earth and sea;
The song that every bosom swells,
To "HAaaisux and RIBERTY?"
Strike! strike the festal harp of fame!
Awake its triumph tones prefuund—
The “guardian hero's" deathless name
Shall in their magic chorus sound
And while her banner floats unfu r'd.
America the proud and free,
Shall greet the echo through the wet la,
For "HARRISON and LIBERTY."
When freedom from her starry sky
Look'd down upon the battle's gloom,
'she saw the charms of conquest fly,
And smile above the invader's plume;—
The valiant warrior of the 'L'ham es
Then led the brave to victory:
Now with a country's proudest names,
Rank "HARRISON and LIBERTY!"
Joy let the floating signal fly,
For freedom's standard guarls tli braVe!
its ti °phi sulks arc streannng high—
'Tis planted on the spoiler's grave!
Let crouching vessalm, nursed in fear,
, To tyranats bend:the subject knee—
We give a welcome t ml a cheer,
To ''HARRISON and I..4IKRTY!"
FROM i'RE,ISXAMII42:R.
FATE! I have ask'd few ;tangs of thee,
And fewer have to ask.
Shortly, thou knowest, I shall be
No more . . . then con thy task
It one be left on earth so late
Whose love is like the past,
Tell her, in whispers, gentle Fate;
Not even love must last.
Tell her, I leave the noisy feast
Of life, a little tired,
Amidst its pleasures few possest
And many undesired.
Tell her with steady pace to come
And, where my laurels lie,
To throw the freshest on my totrili
When it has caught her sigh.
Tell her to stand some steps apart
From others on that day,
And check the tear (if tear should start)
Too precious for dull clay.
Beauty and Liberty.
From the Italian of De Rossi.
Round in Love's oppressive chain,
Beauty, captive, groan'd with pain,
Hoary Time at length drew nigh,
Saw her weep, and heard her sigh;
Then, with his all-conquering hand,
Severed every golden band—
Beauty joyful—Beauty tree—
Tasted now swtet Liberty,
Love on purple pinions came,
Held a glass before the dame,
Whispering, 'Mark thy charms are lost'
Dearly bath thy freedom cost.'
SELECT TALE.
From the Diary of a Philadelphia Latoyer.
TILE REPRIEVE.
"Audi
Natio unto . = de morte liominis cunctatin
longa est." Juvenal.
"When man's life is in debate,
The' udge can ne'er too long deliberate."
Dryden.
"Aan may God have mercy on your
soul !" There is an appalling and mourn
ful feeling that commies over the bystaiiaer
in a Court of Justice, when, after a period
of intense interest and breathless atten
tion from the crowded audience, the judge
concludes the sentence of death upon a
fellow being who has incurred the highest
penalties of the law, with the quaint and
simple supplication above. But at such
a time, who, without the experience, can
imagine the feelings of a young man—the
counsel fur the condemned, who sits be•
side his client after every energy has
been slier tin vain, and beholds the final
seal thus impressed upon the destinies
which had been cOnfided to his care and
protection.
All that ingenuity, all that iesearch,'
all that the midnight toil could accom•
plish has been fruitlessly exerted—every
hope, every chance has been concluded,
there is no error, no informality, no ap-
peal, and the hope and anxiety which has
animated every particle fin• some period
back with its intensity, has flickered its
last gleam upon the case. The prisoner
stands condemned to clic, by the sentence
of the law, wiiich he has violated. Oh! it
is a thrilling and a painful moment, and
ore which, though more than once expe
rienced, I would pray ever to avoid again.
_ .
John wastried for murder. He
was one of several brothers who had emi
grated early in lire to this country, and
who had left behind them every thing that
they had esteemed dear in kindred or in
friendship, to meet their fortunes in the
new country of the free. They had been
here for many years, and by thrifty in•
dustry had amassed a comfortable little
property for their security in time of need,
or in the decline of life. John was the
twin brother of another who had been left
at !mini to gather for the did people the
crops that were grdwn upon the home
stead. He was in the midst of his pros
perity--every thing around began to wear
the assurance of success of his honest and
upright career among his co-laborers,
and those with whom he was associated
—his house became the asylum of the des
titute of his countrymen, and his counsel,
the guide and support of the distressed,
In short, he was among his own class and
among his countryman, no common
When the news of the arrest was made
public, there was, as might be expected,
great excitement anteng his friends. Ev
ery deteriiiinatiori vas Set for his service
—every heart beat with a quick pulse in
his regard, and a hundred hands were
ready to lend their aid in securing hiS de
fence. The services of a senior counsel
& myself, were retained for the accused.
The exparte hearing was had, and upon a
positive accusation confirmed by some
circumstantial . evidence, the unfortunate
prisoner was remanded, to await his trial
at the next session of the Oyer and Ter
miner• The day fixed for the trial arrived.
The Court House was crowded in every
part, and amidst all the assemblage there
was not perhaps one being unconnected
~iith the issue, that did not feel a lively
and fervent desire for the acquitsl of the
prisoner. He had just arrived at the full
development of the man—he was about
thirty, and his well squared frame, his
healthy glow which stood upon the cheek
unchanged by the prison's dew or the
mind's distress, and his good humored
smile that was stamped by nature upon
his face in the hour of his birth—all made
him an object of interest; and his fate a
subject of solicitude to every one who
looked upon him. The trial occupied
several days, during which every assidui
ty and attention' which professional expe-
"ONE COUNTRY, ONH CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY."
A. W. BENEDICT PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR.
HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 28, 1838
Hence Lnd skill at the hands of those 're
tained for him could give, was bestowed
upon Hs case. All that Wends could do,
or means could command in his behalf
*as expended in the establishment of his
defence, Yet all could avail nothing
against the effective and effecting pawer
'of the prosecution. The widow of the
deceased, and the orphdfis of the murder
ed man, dressed in the sad habiliments of
mourning, came in the presence of the
prisoner, and when called upon to desig
nate the murderer of the husband and the
father, pointed with unerring certainty
and equal promptitude to the accused.
Tie evidence detailed a must foul and
deliberate deed. The deceased had been
watched on his way home to his residence,
which was some distance from the habit
ation of any fellow being. In a moment
of fancied security and quiet, when his
wife was busied in the preparation of the
plain and homely fare of the evening
board, and the children were clambering
around their father's knees, to hear his
account of the doings of the day with the
Out-door world, and manifesting their joy
at the return of their lab,,r-worn paretit
—at such a sacred moment, the assassin
Cad entered the door of the solitary 'ionic,
and with a demoniac fierceness, before
their eyes, and in the very drowning of
their' ries for mercy and for heap—had
slain their only support and protector, in
a strange, wide world; and with a nierci
less instrument with which he was pre
pared, had beaten the body of the deceas
ed until it presented behire them a loath
some gory mass, scarcely distinguishable
t.s halting been the habitation of the spirit
that had but a moment before enlivened
and Warmed: them with the ardor of its
affection. In addition to this evidence,
the prisouer, though residing several
miles from the place where the deed had
been committed, was seen in that neigh
borhood, by several persons who knew
him, but a short time previous to the hour
in which it was alleged the murder had
been perpetrated, . To all this the priso
ner could say nothing, but the unvarying
expression of the surprise in which lie
was overwhelmed at the character of the
charge, rind the evidence, and the reiter
ated pi otestations of his perfect and en
tire innocence of the crime alledged.
I• •
There was no chance of proving an alibi.
It was true he had been in the neighbor
hood of the place where the deed was
committed, abOtit the time of its transac
tion; he was there in search of a person
on some business, but at what precise
time he was at any particular place, he
was as unable to prove, as it was impossi
ble for him to give evidence of his entire
ignorance of the existence of such a being
as the deceased, prior to the time of his
accusation.
The trial was concluded, and the jury,
with every desire and disposition to re.
ceive and to cherish every shadow that
►night oppose the glare of evidence in
which the guilt of the prisoner was exhibi
ted to them, were soleinnly compelled to
seal their verdict of condemnation, and
to place the prisoner tipim the mercy of a
higher tribunal, for the numbering of his
days upon earth.• The day of sentence
was one of such impressive character, as
to leave its remembrance deep in the
heart, alter a lapse of many years.
There sat the three judges congrega
led together, to witness the imposing and
solemn disLharge of the last act of the
court, in pronouncing sentence. COll.
fronting them in the centre of the long
dock sat the convicted prisoner. On each
side was marshalled a small body or the
officers of the peae, with their staffs et
office, holding off the eager crowd that
pressed on all sides to obtains p look at the
unfortunate victim of the law. In the centre
of the forum sat the Members of the bar,
who had been attracted on this sad and
unusual occasion, each bearing iti his
countenance the deep Impression of
.the
high authority which they were about to
witness, exercised by man over his fellow
man. Every corner and every nook, ev
ery window and door that commanded an
inview to the court-room was thronged
with spectators. And yet, with all this
crowded assemblage, not a whisper was
heard to disturb the silence .that reigned
around. After a little while the prisoner
was ordered to stand up. He roe from
his seat and firmly took his position at
the bar. As he rose, hoivever, and expo
sed his manly features, his unwrinkled
brow and noble figure to the bystanders,
an int oluntary sigh heaved from the hearts
of the multitude, to beh,ld one so fair, so
mild and so youthful, aboat to receive the
doom of Murderer—the sentence of death.
The feeling judge, in a tone that betoken
ed the emotion under w.tich he labored,
addressed the prisoner by name, and - in a
solemn voice asked him if he had any rea•
suns, "why sentehce of death should nut
be pronounced upon him." He stood a
moment as if collecting his energies and
his thoughts, and after looking around
upon the mobs of fellow beings that sur
rounded him, lie answered as follows: "1
I eve been fairly tried and legally conVic
ted; fur the purposes of human justice lain
guilty—but in the presence of these my
fellow mortals, and in the presence of that
God I rom whose eye no deed is hidden,
and into whose ear no falsehood can en
ter, I do now as 1 have always done,
most solemnly avow my innocence of the
crime of which I stand convicted. AV re
liance is t.n Him, who iS the justifier of
the just, and the guardian of the innocent
—on Him I rely for my safe deliierance
from the ignominious death of the
murderer:" With these words he took
• his seat, and a moment of silence, still as
the deadly night of the charnel house,
pervaded the room. A cry of grief was
heard in a moment afterwards, from a
distant corner of the room. It grew more
violent until it became necessary to re
move the person from whom it proceeded
front the court-rootn. A female in a deep
swoon, unrecognized by any one, was
carried through the crowd, and placed in
an adjacent chamber, while assistance w
sent for to revive her from her lifeless
state. In the meantime the judge pro
' ceeded in his painful duty. The sentence
was brief and solemn. The prisoner re
ceived it without betraying the slightest
emotion, nor seemed to move either mus
cle or feature, until the last words 1 Il
win his ear—"and natty God have mercy
on your soul." He raised his eyes to
heaven t nAlie enunciation of the prayer,
and spoke from them, the strength of his
support. The order was given to clear
the court-room, and the asseinbled multi
tude dispersed, part speaking their still
belief in his innocence, and some regal-•
ding his calmness as the assurance of the
heartlessness of Cain.
In a little time the prison& was remo.,
veil from the dock, and under a guard of
officers was on his way to (he vehicle that
was to convey him to the prison front
whence it was ordered that he should ne
ver return with the spirit of life. As he
passed through the hall that faced the en
trance of the court, a wild slitiek was
heard, and immediately a frantic female
rushed into tl e crowd, grasping at the
prisoner, and exclaiming, "you cannot,
you shall nut take him yet." 'Twits the
woman that had swooned away in the
court-room. The unhappy man turned
around to behold the being, who had thus
unexpectedly involved herself in his wo,
and in meeting her eye, beheld a sister.
They had been seperated for many years,
and he had believed himself parted from
her by the broad ocean, and had hoped
that the tale of his suffering even had not,
would not, reach her ears. 6he was with
him, locked in his arms, and again help
less in the excitement of her feelings. He
could withstand no lon o cr the t,.rrent of
his anguish, and he anti she were each
carried away senseless from the spot of
their unexpected meeting. I immediate
ly gave directions to have the poor girl
removed to a comfortahle and convenient
place of repose, where I Could see her
and administer to her necessities, and gain
from her all the intelligence of her sud
den presence.
A few days found her, under the care
of good attendance, much; revived from
the shock it hich had seriously prostrated
her. My most industrious and sagacious;l
inquiry could elicit nothing, however,
that in any degree explained the mystery
)1 her sudden appearance, mid her unex
4,cted emigration. I at length sugges
ted to her a visit to her brother, in his cell
at the prison. The practicamlity of this,
which she had nut hoped for, scarcely, io
the deep dejection of her privation, %eon
ed to inspire a new life and a new vigor
to her mind. "Can I tlien see huu, and
speak with him agaia—alone tool" She
soliloquized and raising her arms towards
111(., seemed as if she would impress upon
me with manual force the emphasis of her
assurance, when she exclaimed, "lie is
then yet sate."
With the presence of the sheriff, the
next day, I conducted the unhappy gill
to the prison, and led her to the cell of
tier brother. entered it with a light
step, and in one Wend, she entwined bum
in her arms - again. But when she looked
the the response to her embrace, and saw
his helpless arms weighed down with the
load of chains that fettered Mtn, and his
feet clasped in the iron bands that bound
him to a block in the centre of the floor,
• her joy fell, and her heart sought the re
, lief that is gained when
"From tender hearts
By strong impulses called, tears burst at once
And streim obsequious to the leading eye."
The desire to be alone for a few mo
ments, that they might converse withciut
restraint. The request was granted to.
them, and they were left in close and ea
ger discourse for some time. V.l . ey were
at length seperated, and to our surprise,
parted with a smile upon each others
countenance, and an ordinary obeisanta;
as if they had seperatcd, friend from friend
in the ordinary sociality life.
To the sheriff in attendance, who had
taken the liveliest interest in the lite of
my client, as well as to myself, the oc.
currences of this visit opened new mys
teries and new anxieties for the confi
dence of the convict.
But with all the regard that he profes
sed for us, and all the reliance which he
had already placed ih me., our every ef
fort proved abortive, by which we endea
vored to raise the veil that the appearance
and the intercourse of the Sister had
thrown around him. Ile was suddenly
elevated by her presence, unexpected as
tt was, from dejection to cheerfulness,
from complaint to perfect indifference
and reisignation. The time appointed by
the executive of the commonwealth fo r
his execution was fast drawing near,
From months and weeks, we had already
began to count the days that intervened
between his execution and the present.
Hie pious catholic friend, the priest, was
called in, and having daily communion
with the prisoner, had at length promised
huniellso e much satisfaction to the. result
of his labors, as to administer the holy
sacrament to him. Yet there was no
confession—no other asservatiun but that
of reiterated innocence. The sister re
mained in the same mysterious 'silence,
and seemed to wait in patience the coming
day of the brother's doom. A few days
only now intervened for his destiny to
reveal itself, and I sought the sister to en
treat her to say, if' aught she could, why
t here should be delay or mercy extended
to the brother. She was still, and wrapt
herself in t le mystery of thoughtfulnes s
t hat had made her impervious to all in
quisition heretofore. At length I told
her that the scaffold on which her brother
was to hang, was already erected in the
jail-yard-4e rope was already prepared
—the warrant had been read to him, and
conjured her by these awful presages of
his fate to reveal what she knew, that
could avert hiedariger. Tlils conjuration
'proved the test of the natural feelings of,
the heart, and after a moment's pause,
.she asked if 'it was yet in time, todelay, at''
least, the execution, if the airara4e ut
good reason therefore could be given.
informed her that it was, if the utmost
pro4fitude was eiercised. She then de•
'minded who had the right to. grant her
the reprieve. I answered that it was the
prerogative of the governor, who was at
:the seat of government. and voltinteered
[ AroL. IV, No. 7
myself to be the hearer and the advOcate
of her claims to the indulgence which she
prayed. " Bear me to the governor as
speedily as possible," she replied, "and
MYselr will be the oracle and the advocate
of my prayer." Our• arrangements were
made fur our departure the next morning,
and the same evening we had an audience
with the governor. After the statement
of the nature and course of the trial, and
all the circumstances which were in my
posse,sion, to avail the convict, I turned
to their sister, who sat beside me, and
made known her relation to the subject of
my supplication. She rose from her chair
and, adi•ancing to the centre of the room
where the governor was seated, asked the
privilege of speaking in private with him.
I, of course, immediately withdrew, and
gave her the fullness of opportunity which
her precaution desired.
What took place at this interview was
a mystery to me, and I sought not, nor
felt an, anxiety to ingiiire into it, so that it
was efficient in the object for which it was
granted. The next day I was called upon
by the secretary of the executive, with a
reprieve of two weeks for my client.
Our immediete return to the City was
requisite to make our success available,
and we lost not a moment on retracing
our way limn:ward. The day before the
contemplated execution, the reprieve was
placed in the hands of the sheriff, and the
sister again admitted.to the cell, and to a
private interview with the brother. At
ter she had been engaged in converse for
some time, I approached the cell, uncon
scwus that she was there, and in my un
expected interruption, heard, as they has.
tily closed their couversat:on, the last
words of the sister. "Ile will then be far
on his way."
A new light seethed to burst upon me,
and I c h ained the sister, while I called
upon the gratitude of the brother, as a
plea, if my unrewarded labor in his be
halt constituted no assurance of the
cerity of my interest in him, whereupcn.
I was entitled to a revelation of the mys
tery that daily seperated me more and
more from their confidence, and removed
them farther and farther from my assis
tance. A period, just one week prece
ding the expiration of the reprieve, was
fixed by theth as the day on which I
should be made acquainted With every
secret in which they seemed so deeply
isolated. 1 his day, at length, arrived,
and the following was the revelation given
by both to me, as we were met, in the nar
row and dimlighted cell. The prisoner
was as innocent and ignorant of the deed
or the contemplation of it, as the infant
that Yielded its pure spirit yesterday to
the author who gave it. The twin broth.
er, who had been left in heland, and
whose resemblance to the convict, had ,
from infancy, baffled the scrutiny of the
most intimate friends to distinguish be.
tween them, had perpeiiated the fuul and
inhuman deed. The widow of the de
ceased, the principle witness in the pros.
ecution, was early betrothed t 6 hlin, and
had preceded him to America under the
most solemn vows of constancy and fidel
ity to the pledge that. mutually bound
them together. He was delayed from va
rious causes from his projected, emigre_
tion, and for years had lost all tidings of
its betrothed. He heard, at length, of
her perfidy. She was the wife of another,
had married the (*aged, and was the pa
rent of several children. By an unlucky
and unholy prompting, he made the re,
solve to put sue her and despoil her of her
perfidious happiness. His purpose was
overheard by the sister, but it was under
stood too late to prevent its fatal.execu_
tion. lie had already embarked for mer
ice, and no hope was left forh'er, to inter
vene be weep. him and his design, but o
pursue him as speedily its ,possible with,
the chance of overtaking him, before he
.had committed' tie dread device. She
arrived here, after a long passage, just in
time to receive the intelligence of her
,brother's arrest, and to discover in the,
courtroom, for the first tito , , the mistake
of the law in the prose'cutioi: o hia
tim. •