Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

the log struck the shore, jumped off and swam for it. Having made his bargain with the stranger, he went home, and the latter went again to his house and brought his axe and a brand of fire. In the meantime I was nearly frozen. There was only one place where I could move, and that was in a circle about six feet in diameter, round a tree. On one side there was a man, with a fire flaring near him, chopping away at an oak tree four feet through; and on the other I was pacing round my circle, which I wore as deep, hard and smooth as a buffalo-path. At the expiration of about three hours, the tree came down, and barely reached the shore. The upper end was covered with water, and I had to get on it a-straddle, with the water up to my neck. However, I reached the shore in safety; and though I suffered no inconvenience from sickness, in consequence of my adventure, I learned never to go down river again, in an overflow, without knowing how I was to get back.

Yours,

ALBERT PIKE.

THE INCONVENIENCES OF BEING LYNCHED.

MR. EDITOR, Do you remember Pierce Parker, the Rogue in spite of himself? Well, it is he who now addresses you. They have just done Lynching me. If it were not that I am used to these things, I should have perished under the operation. I begin to think that there was sound sense and humanity in the reply of the old woman, who on being rebuked for the cruelty of her manner of skinning eels, said, 'La, sir, they dont mind itthey's used to it.'

On my last escape from jail, where I was confined for unknowingly passing a counterfeit bill, which had been given me by an old gentleman, whom I had saved from drowning- I determined to try my fortune farther South. Seeing one day in the Richmond Enquirer an advertisement offering one hundred dollars reward for a runaway slave, and being pressingly in want of money, I determined to go in search of the individual described. With this view, I rambled through the country, kept a watch in out-ofthe-way places, and looked very hard at all the negroes who passed. On the second day of my search, I reached the little village of Featherville. I had just given up all hopes of attaining my object, and was sitting on a rock, with my chin resting on both hands, and my elbows on my knees, hungry and disconsolate, when a rough gripe was laid on each of my shoulders.

I attempted to start up, but was prevented. On looking round, I saw that Judge Lynch and his whole posse comitatus had pounced upon me. With a skilful celerity, they tied my hands behind me, and then, amid shouts and execrations, drove me towards the village square.

My good friends, you are mistaken in the person whom do you take me for? - let me ent-tr-tr—'

My expostulations were abruptly broken off, by one of the foremost of my captors, whom I took to be his Honor, gagging me with a handful of shavings. Finding it quite difficult to talk, after being supplied with this mouthful, I submissively held my peace. My amiable conductors dragged me towards an old poplar tree, and tied me to the trunk.

'Now, my lads,' exclaimed his Honor, with a horrid grin, rubbing his hands—now my lads, we'll show you a biped with feathers. It cant be said now, that the devil's to pay, and no pitch hot. Hand along the tar-kettle, Mike, my lad, — and, Jemmy Dickin, toss us along that bag of feathers."

With a horrible alacrity, these orders were obeyed. I tried to speak to move-O, the dastards! I was bound fast. I could not. I looked unutterable things. Dust was flung in my eyes. What could I do? I ground my teeth in agony, in wrath and in scorn. There is but one step from the farcical to the tragical. Like imps of Pandemonium, the good people of Featherville, flocked round me, and beheld unmoved such tortures inflicted, as an uncivilized Arab would weep to witness. The tar and the feathers were bestowed with a liberal hand. There was no lack of generosity in these articles. I believe they are both the natural productions of the State.

As soon as there was a cessation in the tender mercies of Messieurs, the mob, I unclogged my right eye from the tar that surrounded it, and looked forth. On the slope of the opposite hill, I noticed a horseman riding at full speed, and making vehement gestures towards the crowd. They were arrested in their valiant doings, by these pantomimical appeals. In a few moments, the rider arrived on the spot, and dismounting drew the Judge aside, and communicated to him the intelligence with which he was charged. The result was, that his Honor approached me, relieved my mouth of the shavings which he had thrust into it, and untying my arms, told me, that I might go; that he believed there was some mistake, but that it was better that fifty innocent ones should suffer than that one guilty should escape- - and that he took me for a d-d abolitionist.' The jury shouted acquiescence in the decision of the Judge.

I attempted to speak, but could not-not that my heart was too full of gratitude for utterance-but because my lips were glued with the tar.

At the tavern, at which I had casually stopped that morning, I had given my name as Andrew Jackson Smith. It seems, that a trunk with that name upon it, was received after my departure, and as it was tied with red tape, sealed with wax, the landlord remarked, that it was very mysterious.'

6

Very, indeed,' echoed the editor of the Featherville Banner of Liberty, as he threw his tobacco quid away, and swallowed a mint julep.

[ocr errors]

Upon my word, it's very odd,' said the Postmaster, trying the lock. Landlord,' continued he, bring me a hammer and chisel, and I'll take the responsibility, as the old Gin'ral says. Amos will bear me out in it.'

The hammer and chisel were brought the trunk was forcibly opened and in the dressing-case, carefully concealed under some soap and razors, was found a torn page of a murderous print, published in New York, called the Emancipator.

Treason!' shouted the Postmaster, holding the scrap up to

view.

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

'Bloody treason!' echoed the landlord. What is it?' 'Lynch him,' said the editor, lighting a cigar.

Call the Judge-call the Judge,' said the Postmaster.

'Ay, ay,' rejoined the editor; who, by the way, was a pig-eyed gentleman, rather slim and snugly dressed, with light eye-brows, and hair a blackguard in print and a vulgarian out of print. "Where is he?"

"Who is he?'

Is he here?'

• Is he gone ?

'Where in the devil is he?'

These questions were poured in upon my host in rapid succession. He finally recollected, that a wo-begone looking gentleman, in a suit of rusty black, had bought a loaf of bread of him that morning, and that his name corresponded with that on the trunk. The reader knows the rest of my story. The whole village was soon at my heels, and I was regularly Lynched. It was afterwards ascertained that the trunk containing the incendiary article, belonged to the son of an eminent slave-holder, whose name I had unwittingly borrowed.

I write, Mr. Editor, in a good deal of a hurry, but a person is apt to feel a little confused after being treated as I have been. An eminent author has depicted the inconveniences of being hung they are not equal to those of being tarred and feathered. I beg the good people of Featherville to bear in mind this homely truth; that the very worst use you can put a man to, is to Lynch him.'

6

The morning after this unpleasant affair, on taking up the Banner of Liberty, I saw the following flattering version of the transaction.

ANOTHER ARREST.

A white man of the name of Andrew Jackson Smith, was yesterday arrested on a writ issued by Judge Lynch. It seems, that the suspicions of the Postmaster were aroused by the singular appearance of Smith's trunk; and on breaking it open, his worst conjectures were more than realized. It was found full of inflammable papers, Emancipators and Liberators, evidently intended for distribution among the slaves. On this being known, the people of the town, headed by his Honor, Judge Lynch, turned out in pursuit of the monster Smith. He was soon caught, and being brought into the village, was furnished gratis with a new coat of tar and feathers black turned up with white. The craven roared lustily during the operation, and manifested the most cowardly impatience. He has had a lesson, which he will not soon forget.

P. S. We learn that it has been satisfactorily ascertained that Smith is innocent of the charges against him. We are glad of it. The man, who would come here at this time, to raise a rebellion, is unworthy the name and the respect of a man. He is indeedfit for murder, stratagem and spoils.' We congratulate Mr. Smith that the suspicions against him have proved to be unjust.

And this, Mr. Editor of the New England Magazine, is all the satisfaction that I have had for my martyrdom! I am not the man, they took me for! Very consoling, upon my word. But with all this believe me- there is no mistake about the inconveniences of being Lynched. Farewell!

P. P.

SONNET.

TO A FRIEND IN ITALY.

YES - you will thrill with rapture while you gaze
On the rich relics of that sacred shore,

Made holy by the tales of classic lore,

And its own dreamlike beauty. You will stand
In the lone places of that distant land,

And see its crumbling temples - while the rays

Of the glad sun will fall on Arno's rills,

And bathe with gold fair Tempe's leafy floor,
And the old towers of Rome's imperial hills,
And Tuscan vales, and Istria's sandy shore.
Yes-fairer scenes than ours will greet thine eyes
Beneath the azure of Italian skies;

But let not these win thy affections more
Than the bleak rocks that gird thy native shore.

[blocks in formation]

R. C. W

MY JOURNAL.

In traversing a newly settled country, rich in the gifts of nature, and rapidly becoming populous, the imagination naturally turns upon the appearance it will present after being inhabited and cultivated long enough to acquire the name of an ancient land. It is not to be denied that natural scenery is greatly increased in beauty by the addition of works of art; and though our majestic rivers and mountains, our broad lakes and fair fields, our cataracts and precipices are perhaps among nature's master-pieces, there is still a possibility that art may one day heighten their charms; not that nature is to be moulded and formed and perverted by man; the Lord preserve us from the false taste of clipped trees and formal gardens and artificial cascades. There is another way in which art adorns nature. To one who has ascended the Rhine, or wandered through the vales of Italy, who has seen the tradititionary crag surmounted by the battlemented ruin, or the picturesque waterfall, and the clear, cool stream, on whose margin stands some classic temple, of delicate proportion,' or some ruptured bridge, festooned with the clustering ivy, which dips its leaves into the dark waters beneath, there is no mystery in the fact that nature is heightened in loveliness by art.

[ocr errors]

But how is our country to be thus adorned by art? The wars and the rapaciousness and tyranny, which reared the stately walls and the embattled towers of the feudal castle, have passed away, and with them have passed away the weakness and terror which drew men together, and caused them to build their little romantic-looking cities, walled and trenched around, on the hill-tops, high as the eagle's flight. The enthusiasm in religion, which called into being the magnificent Gothic order, founded the abbey and the cathedral, and poured the treasures of monarchs into the lap of the church, is lost perhaps forever. For us there is no romance. Our ruins, if we ever have any, must be the ruins of factories and warehouses; our temples are raised to the worship of Mammon ; our cities grow up at the voice of commerce, not of war; our waterfalls are prized in proportion to their 'power;' our hills are to be levelled and our vallies filled up for the accommodation of the railroad.

Still, as time rolls on, the objects of art are unavoidably invested with some degree of romance and interest, be their character what it may. Indeed, many of the ruins of classic land were, in their original purpose, of anything but a romantic character the long arcade which stretches across the campagna di Roma, and forms a very striking and beautiful feature in the landscape, was built for an aqueduct; and one of the most interesting

« ZurückWeiter »