The Ottawa Free Trader

A South American Tragedy in Real Life.

A correspondent of the Tribune writing from Buenos Ayres, gives some further particulars of an affair which has already been mentioned, as one of the thrilling tragedies of real life. The father of the lady alluded to was of Irish descent, and the correspondent adds:

"Mr. O'Gorman's ancestors came at an early period to the New World, and he is now the last male descendant of his race, an accomplished gentleman, married to a superior woman of the Spanish blood - has a good property though not rich. The joy of his house was his daughter Camila, who, from her father, inherited the clear complexion, dark blue eyes and black hair, peculiar to the west of Ireland. From her mother the grace, form and gait of the Andalusian. Indeed, to use a sporting phrase, she was a perfect cross. Her mental qualities were a happy combination of the wit and vivacity natural to her father's countrymen, with the repose and self-possession of her mother. Accomplished and better educated than most young women, she naturally sought companions who were most distinguished for intelligence. Scarcely eighteen, she had all the precocity of intellect which distinguish women of a southern clime, and give them the character of our women of thirty. The curate of the place was Don Sancho Gutierrez, who could also boast of the best blood of the province in his veins. Educated at the College of the Jesuits, he was remarkable for his talents, intelligence and acquirements. These good judges of character were proud of him, and selected him as a suitable representative of their order, against his own inclination, but persuaded by a fond mother, who had become a rigid devotee, he unfortunately consented, and took the solemn vows of the priesthood. He was just 22 years of age, of a commanding, graceful form, of a clear olive complexion, with a piercing black eye. His whole soul was absorbed in his duty, and he was held up to the degenerate priesthood as a perfect model for his devotion, bearing and correct conduct. Don Sancho was a constant visitor at the house of the father of Camila, by whom he was not more warmly welcomed than by the lovely girl herself In him she had found a genial soul; the poetry and literature not only of her own country, but that of France, Italy, and Germany, gave them an untiring subject of conversation and argument.

Their studies became the same, and two or three years glided on in uninterrupted happiness. The beauty, wit and accomplishments of Camila had brought numbers of suitors for a husband. To all she gave a deaf ear. From some speculations her father had met with losses, and the political troubles of the country made him anxious that Camila should make choice of a husband from the many admirers who surrounded her. Don Sancho and Camila then for the first time knew they loved.

You may conceive the conflict between duty and passion in the lovers. They fled, and escaped to a small town in a neighboring province, where, under assumed names, they were married. The Church was outraged. The bereaved parents, in their phrensy, solicited the Government to look for the fugitive. Six or seven months pass ed without their being discovered; and the affair was being forgotten, when, unfortunately, a curate to the town of their refuge, was sent from Buenos Ayres. He recognized his old college companion - informed, and they were arrested, and in irons sent to this city. With a refined cruelty they were placed in the same cart, but separated by a guard; they were not allowed to communicate. Twenty days of journeying over the wretched roads, exposed to the inclement season, was sufficient to shake the stoutest; but she, though enceinte (in two months more she would have been a mother.) bore the hardships and privations uncomplaining - sustaining by her example, her sinking husband, who, perhaps, knew too well the probable fate which awaited them. Upon their arrival, the Church claimed him as her own, and were ready to mete him the punishment allotted by the canons for the backsliding of her Priest! But no! The Government had taken the matter into its hands - and without trial, both were condemned to the death of felons, by superior order. You cannot understand this phrase, living in our happy country of Love and Order. Here the voice and will of a single individual is supreme. Where the people intrust the power into the hands of one, they have, unfortunately, to bear the consequences. You already know the history of Rosas - and never has a country felt a more iron rule. The execution took place at the military encampment a few miles from the city. The poor culprits had but one day's notice. The priests who were ordered to administer the last sacred rites of the Church, were chosen from the highest dignitaries. The unhappy couple were duly confessed, and horrible as it may appear, the unborn child was baptized in the bosom of the mother. Gutierrez came out pale and shrinking - Camila firm: at the first look, he fainted: she gave a cry so heart-rending that one of the attending priests was carried off in a swoon. She however, soon roused herself and addressing her recovering companion, reminded them of their love, and though in the eyes of man it might be sinful, she had faith in the goodness and justice of God, and soon they would meet in a better world, never again to be separated. She urged him to be firm and the struggle would soon be over. She refused to have her eyes bandaged, but with a modesty peculiar to her sex, requested her dress might be fastened round her ankles. She was clad particularly neat. Throwing her beautiful tresses over her face, she calmly seated herself beside her lover, and their arms were bound to the post. A file of soldiers was advanced - the order given to fire - not a trigger was drawn, for in the hearts of those wild men there still was something human. They were withdrawn under arrest, and the guard of Pampa Indians, not so sensitive, advanced within five yards of the poor victims and fired. They both fell dead without a groan.

The captain of the guard on whom devolved the service of the day, stung by remorse, or actuated by a more noble sentiment, formed the troop into a square round the mutilated corpses, and addressing his comrades said: - "I have obeyed my orders, but my business is not to shoot women" - then drew his pistol and blew out his own brains. I have given you a hasty sketch of this heart rending tragedy - of the poor parents I have not heard: but in the town there is but one feeling, that of horror; the whole city is aghast at so terrible a punishment, and that two beings, with their loving offspring, though still unborn, should suffer for having "Loved not wisely but too well," passes belief. But the details are so minute that I am most unwillingly obliged to admit its truth