American Republican and Baltimore daily clipper. [volume] (Baltimore, Md.) 1844-1846, 1846-04-08

and father gazing upon the mass of burned
flesh and blackened bones-all that waS once
his ,0Ue.
Do you ask me for the words that trembled
from his white lips? Do you ask me for the
fire that blazed in his eye?
| cannot tell you. But can tell you that
there was vow going up to Heaven from
that blacksmith's heart; that there was Glen
ched hand appraised in the light of the breaking
day.
Yes, yes, as the first CLEAN of sunlight
streamed.over the peeled skull of that fair
young wife-she that was last nght-there
was VOW going up to Heaven, the vow of
maddened heart and anguished brain.
How was the vow kept? Go there to Bran
DIVINE, and where the carnage gathers thick
est, where the fight is most bloody, there you
may see a stout form striding on, lifting a huge
hammer into light. Where that hammer falls
! it kills-where that hammer strikes it crushes
1t is the blacksmiths form. And the war cry
that he shouts? Is it mad cry of vengeance
half howl, half hurrah! Is it but fierce
yell breaking up from his heaving chest?
All, no! ah, no!
1t is the name of-MARY! 1t is the name of
his young wife.
Oh, Mary-sWeetest name ofWoman-name
so soft, SO ripping, so musical-name OF the
mother of Jesus, made holy by poetry and re-
| lion, how strangely did your sylables of music
ring from that blacksmith's lips, as he went
numbering on!
"yNaryl' he shouts, as he drags that red
coated trooper from his steed. "MarY!" he
shreks, as his hammer brushes down, laying
the officer IN the dust Look!-another Off
Ger, glittering in unseI, clasps that blacksmith
by the knees, and begs for mercy.
81 have wife--mercy have a wife yon-
der in England-spare mel"
The blacksmith crazed as he is, trembles-
there is a tear in his eye.
III woud-but there is form before me
the .orm of my dead wife! That form has
gone before me all day! She calls upon me to
strike!"
The hammer fell, and then rang out the
strange war cry-"Mary!"
Aud last, when the battle was over, he was
found by a wagner, who had at least Shout
dered cart whip in his country's service, he
was found sitting by the roadside, his head
sunken, his leg broken, and his life blood well
tering from his many wounds.
The WAGNER would have carried him from
the field, but the stout blacksmith refused.
"You see, neighbour he said, in that voice
husky with death, 81 never meddled with the
British till 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 have but five minutes life
in me, I'd like to give a shot at the British be-
fore die. Dye see that cherry tree? Dye
think you could drag man ofmy build up
there? Place me there, give me a powder
horn, three rifle balls and a good rifle; that's
all ask"
The WAGNER granted his request; he lifted
him to the foot of the cherry tree; he placed
the rife, the balls, the powder horn, in his
grasp.
Then whipping his horses through the mar
row pass, from the summit of neighborng
height he looked down upon the last scene OF
the blacksmiths life.
There lay the stout man at the foot of the
cherry tree, his head sunk, his broken leg
hanging 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 narrow road mad with carnage, anc
thirsting for blood. They pursued a scattered
band of continentals. An officer led the way
waving them on with his sword.
The blacksmith loaded his rifle; with thai
eye bright with death TO look the aim. THAT
for Washington" he shouted as he fired. The
officer lay quivering in the roadside dust. Vi
and on came the British nearer and nearer The
, cherry tree-the Continentals swept through
the pass. Again the blacksmith loaded-agair
he fired. "That's for mad Anthony Waynel'
he shouted, as still 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 towards them, bleed
ing as he was, dealt death among their ranks
) A fair visaged officer, with golden hair waving
, in the wind, led them on.
The blacksmith raised his rifle; with tina
hand stffenng with death he took the aim
1 he fired-the young Brton fell with a piercin!
| shrek. "And that" cried the blacksmith, il
voice that strengthened into shout, ''ant
that's for"
/ His voice was gone The shrek died on hi
$ white lips.
His head sunk-his rifle fell
A single word dubbed up with his deatl
} groan. Even now, mehtinks, hear that wore
echoing and trembling there among the rock
of Brandywine. That word was-MARY!
ANEcpoTE OF DANIEL WEBSTER AND THU
} LATE CHEF JUSTICE Story. The Boston SUI
relates the following amusing anecdote Of Dan
a iel Webster and the late Judge Story:
In an excursion made many years ago to Rec
=. Hill, in or near Moultonborough, New Hamp
shire commanding most beautiful view of LAX
= Winnipissiogee, we had as a guide the latte