The Sun.
London, England, 1845-01-04 00:00:00

ROMANTIC YET TRUE.

Although years have elapsed since the following
remarkable circumstance occurred, it by some acci-
dent escaped our notice till very lately: and even
then in so indirect a shape, that it became necessary
to enter into a little correspondence, before directing
attention to an incident illustrating very forcibly the
verity of the old adage " that truth is sometimes
stranger than fiction.' Such inquiries as we were
enabled to jot have at length been answered to our
own satisfaction ; and before proceeding further, we
have to return our best thanks to Mr. Roderic
M‘Litren, formerly of Glenluce, hut now of Carlisle,
and Lieut. Taylor, staff-officer, paymaster of out-pen-
sioners, Stranraer.
As there are two heroes connected with the tale,
we begin with the first, David Kelly, a native of
%Vigtownshire, who at present resides in the village
of Portwilliam. As a horse-breaker, or trainer, he
has long maintained an excellent character, and as such
is well known to the gentleman of the county, by
whom he is employed, and even a good way beyond
its bounds. In early life he entered the army, as a
private in the 2(1 Ileavy Dragoons, or Scotch Greys.
From this corps he was discharged on the '24th
January, 1816, on the moderate allowance of sixpence
per day, in cons,quence of a severe swordcut receivel
on his left hand. He had been only three years en-
listed, when it was his fortune to abide the brunt of
the most tremendous battle fought in modern times :
and at this period, when in the prime of manhood.
he must have been a remarkably handsome, soldier-
looking man. Even yet, at the age of fifty-three, he
stands fully five II et eleven inches high, and is so
firmly knit together, that nature must have anticipated
his calling, by moulding his shoulder' beautifully for
the combined burdens of a fiery war-charger, heavy
helmet, carabines, and sword.
Of the other personage connected with a tale cf
real life less h known, from the circumstance that 17e
belongs to the Emerald Isle. and had also been a
soldier in his youth, in the 4th Dragoons, or Ennis•
killers, in which capacity it was his fate to becorm,
an acto-.- at Waterloo. "1.10 different persons he ba,
mentioned that, shile in the service, he was promoted
to the rank of sergeant, and received a temporary
allowance after the great battle which was discon•
tinned many years ago. To all appearance he is a
man about sixty, hiving long travelled the whole
south of Scotland as an itinerant cutler ; and who, at
least in one respect, cannot say with Canning's knife-
grinder—" Story; God bless you! I have none to
tell, sir."

With these preliminaries we proceed to state that
on one occasion the above two characters forgathered
—point of contact, parish of Mochrum, estate of Mon-
reich, on the public road leading to Portwilliam. The
cutler, who had been either treated to a dram, or
felt fatigued by a long day's journey, in pausing
tor a brief space to recover his breath, had fallen
fast asleep by the roadside. His barrow and
wheel stood close at hand ; but, at the same -
time, projected rather further on the public
path than men in authority, such as road trus-
tees, willingly permit. At this juncture the trainer
appeared, mounted on a young horse he was engaged
in breaking, and as the animal shyed at objects so
unwonted, he essayed every art to urge his steed
onward in the right direction. But, in place of
moving forward, it became restive, which so annoyed
the rider that he bawled out as loudly as possible,
commanding the sleeper to get up instantly, and re-
move his nuisance apparatus to a proper distance.
This injunction he repeated more than once without
extracting the slightest response, and, losing all
patience, he called the poor cutler all sorts of names,
telling him, among other things, that he well
deserved fine or imprisonment, in thus en-
dangering the safety of valuable property by
daring to obstruct the King's highway. How long
the clamour continued we do not know ; but, as much
was said and more threatened, the unconscious offender
at length awoke, and, after rubbing his eyes and look-
ing up, on noticing the irregularity, put everything to
rights as speedily as possible. A way thus cleared,
the trainer moved onwards; but, as his temper was
still chafed, he abused the wayfarer up hill and down
dale, in a long string of angry expressions, plentifully
interlarded with expletives altogether unfit fur ears
polite. The cutter in the first instance bore all pa-
tiently ; but, naturally enough, became a little nettled
when his opponent threatened to dismount and treat
him to a sound drubbing, which he would remember
all the days of his life. Accordingly, looking sternly,
he said, " It's one thing to say and another to
do; cannot two play at that game? And to be plain,
I would sooner feel the weight of your list, and you
mine, than be bothered any longer with your abomi-
nable tongue. An' as to the sport you so brag about,
I've seen inure of that in two hours than you ever saw
in your born days, let alone your iltther and grand-
'Other afore you." Kelly—" You, you lubber; what
did you ever see, you thief? Your brogue I did
not notice before ; but now see that, like all your
squad, you like to spin a long yarn." Cutler—
' " Softly, my boy; I an' the Ennerskillers did
what we could at Waterloo, a place you never
saw and never will." Kelly—" I was there mysel ;
but as for you, I would like a better warrant
than yours at the foot of the halberds, with the
drummer at your back, ready to lay on with the cat
and nine." Cutler—" Say you so, my boy ; and
supposing you spake true, what regiment had the
benefit of your mighty services ? " Kelly—l belonged
to the Scotch Greys." Cutler—" Indeed ! the Scotch
Greys; well, I saw one of your lubbers, as you called
me, set on by three French cavalry, and, thinking
three too many for one, I galloped from my own
ranks and cut down one of them; and, when his com-
rades saw that, they made off in a twinkling." Kelly
—" An' do you know what became of the Grey
after ? " Cutler—" The poor fellow had got his
bridle-hand cut nearly through at the wrist, by a
Frenchman's sabre, an' with that, and fighting a-while
afore, he seemed quite squeamish ; so I took him to
the rear, an' gave him a brandy sip out of my pocket-
pistol; but as I had to lave him to join my
own ranks, I never saw him more. 1 never
saw him but that once, an' he may dead or living for
ought I know. But as you are an ould Grey, you
should be civil to Paddy, for the sake of your com-
rade." " Civil," retorted the trainer eagerly, " par-
don, pardon, pardon ! Forget every word I said; if
strangers before, we are brothers now ; there is the
wrist that got so fell a stroke ; and by the blood and
wounds that raged so rife at Waterloo, you are the
very man that saved my life."
The sequel of the story is soon told. The two men,
perfectly satisfied as to their respective identity, found
their way to Portwilliam, where, under the roof-tree
of a kind hostess, they spent four days and nights in
one another's society, as happy as princes, plsdging,
on parting, the most lasting friendship, and vowing to
boot never, never to quarrel more under whatever
circumstances they might chance to meat.—Dumfries
Courier.

STRANGE STORY.--The letters from Florence men-
tion an occurrence which is scarcely credible. The
Countess Z of St. Petersburgh, who is known for
the many male enmities she has kindled, and seems to
delight in, had just entered her carriage in order to go
to the promenade ; the horses were about to start, when
perceiving that she had forgotten something at home,
she descended and re-entered her residence ; but she
had scarcely passed the door, when a tremendous ex-
plosion blew the carriage to pieces, and killed the coach-
man. An infernal machine had been introduced into the
body of the carriage. This horrible attempt is imputed
to a young man who had sworn to be conspicuously
revenged on the c. lebrated Countess. The corpse of the
poor coachman was removed to the Brothers of Mercy.
—Revue de P.sris.