The following facts have come to our knowledge, too late to be inserted
in their proper place. But we deemed them too interesting to be
altogether omitted. Indeed, every incident of his short, but virtuous
life, however slight, cannot fail to impart some degree of at least a
melancholy pleasure to every generous and patriotic bosom.
“One day, previous to his trial, as the governor was going his rounds,
he entered Emmet’s room rather abruptly, and observing a remarkable
expression in his countenance, he apologised for the interruption. He
had a fork affixed to his little deal table, and appended to it there
was a tress of hair. ‘You see,’ said he to his keeper, ‘how innocently I
have been occupied: this little tress has been long dear to me, and I am
plaiting it to wear in my bosom on the day of my execution.’ On the day
of that fatal event, there was found, sketched by his own hand with a
pen and ink, upon that very table, an admirable likeness of himself, the
head severed from the body which lay near it, surrounded by the
scaffold, the axe and all the paraphernalia of a high treason execution.
What a strange union of tenderness, enthusiasm and fortitude, do not the
above traits of character exhibit! His fortitude indeed, never forsook
him; on the night previous to his death, he slept as soundly as ever,
and when the fatal morning dawned, he arose, knelt down and prayed,
ordered some milk, which he drank, wrote two letters, (one to his
brother in America, and the other to the secretary of state, inclosing
it,) and then desired the sheriffs to be informed that he was ready.
When they came to his room, he said he had two requests to make: one,
that his arms might be left as loose as possible, which was humanely
acceded to. “I make the other,” said he, “not under any idea that it can
be granted, but that it may be held in remembrance that I have made it,
it is, that I may be permitted to die in my green uniform.” This, of
course, was not allowed him—and the request seemed to have no other
object than to show that he gloried in the cause for which he was to
suffer. A remarkable example of his power, both over himself and others,
occurred at this melancholy moment. He was passing out, attended by the
sheriffs and preceded by the executioner; in one of the passages stood
the turnkey who had been personally assigned to him during his
imprisonment: this poor fellow loved him in his heart, and the tears
were streaming from his eyes in torrents. Emmet paused for a moment; his
hands were not at liberty—he kissed his cheek—and the man who had been
for years the attendant of a dungeon, habituated to scenes of horror,
and hardened against their operation, fell senseless at his feet. Before
his eyes had opened again upon this world, those of the youthful
sufferer had closed forever!”