The Cadiz sentinel. [volume] (Cadiz, Ohio) 184?-1851, 1845-12-31
agriculture politics News Geran Gstorp BiOgrapbp Aeanits
ADIZ, WEDNESDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 81, l845

he shouts? Is it a mad cry of vengeance--half
howl, half hurrah? Is it a fierce yell, breaking
up from his heaving chest?
All no! All no!
1t is the name of--MARY! 1t is the name of
his young wife,
Oh, Mary-sweeest name of woman-nameI
so soft, so ripping, so musicaI--name of the
Mother of Jesus, made holy by poetry and reli-
gon- -how strangely did your sylIabes Of music
ring out from that blacksmith's lips, as he went
numbering on!
'Maryh he shouts, as he drags that red coat
ed trooper from his steed: sMary!' he shreks, as
his hammer crashes down, laying that officer in
the dust Look! Another officer, with gallant
face and form--another officer, gittering in tin
sci, clasps that blacksmith by the knees, and
begs mercy.
i have 4 wife-mercy! have wife yonder
IN Engand--spare men
The blacksmith, crazed as he is, trembles-
there is a Tear in his eye.
i would spare you--but there is form be-
fore me-the form Of my dead wife! That form
has gone before me all day! She calls on me
to strken
And the hammer fell, and then rang out that
strange war-cry--'Maryn
AT last, when the battle was over, he was found
by WAGNER, who had at least shouldered cart
whip in his country's service-he was found sit
ting by the roadside, his head sunken, his leg
broken-the life blood yelling from his many
wounds.
you see, neighbour he said, in that voice hus-
ky with death, Il never meddIed with the British
It'll they burned my home, till they'-he could
not speak the outrage, but his wife, his child
were there before his dying eyes--'And now
I've but five minutes life in me- I'd like to
give shot at the British aEore die Dye see
that cherry tree? Dye think you could drag
man of my build up thar? Place me thar; give
me powder horn, three rifle balls and good
rihe that's all ask
The WAGNER granted his request; he lifted
him 10 the foot OF the cherry tree; he placed the
rifle, the balls, the powder-horn in his grasp.
Then whipping his horses through the narrow
pass, from the summit of neighboring height,
he looked down upon the last scene of the black
smiths life
There lay the stout man at the foot of the
cherry tree, his head sunk, his broken leg hang
ing over the roadside bank. The blood was
streaming from his wounds he was dying.
Suddenly he raised his head--a sound struck
on his ears. A party of British came rushing
along the road ,mad with carnage and thirsting for
blood. They pursued scattered band of Con-
tinentals. An officer led tho way, waving them
on, with his sword
The blacksmith loaded his rife; with that eye
bright with death he took the aim. That's for
Washingtonn he shouted as he fred The off
Ger lay quvering in the roadside dust. On and
on came the British, nearer and nearer to the
cherry tree-he ContinentaIs swept through the
pass, Again the blacksmith loaded--again he
fred 'That's for mad Antony Waynen he shout.
ed, as another officer bit the sod.
The British now came rushing to the cherry
tree, determined to cut down the wounded man,
who with his face toward them, bleeding as he
was, dealt death among their ranks. A fair-vi-
saged officer, with golden hair waving in the
wind, led them on.
The blacksmith raised his riAe with that hand
stiffcning in death he took the am---he fred
the young Briton fell with sudden shrek,
'And that cried the blacksmith, in a voice
that strengthened into shout, 'and that's for
His voice was gone! The shrek died on his
white lips.
His head sunk-his rifle fell
A single word bubbled up with his death
groan. Even now mcthinks hear that worI
echong aud trembling there among the rocks
of Brandywinc. That word was--Mny!