Sentinel of the valley. [volume] (Woodstock, Va) 1841-1848, 1846-02-26
MISCELLANEOUS
.T'Ese Mechanic Hero.
A TALE OF THE REVOLUTION.

n AZ y 'lvNv- OAkSSfAAC AAtl'Oe f y
A TALE OF THE REVOLUTION.
I'll use the advantage Of pow'r,
And lay the summers dust with show'rs Of
blood, ,6* 8
RAND from the wounds of Slaughtered Eng
lishmen. Shakespeare
Near Dilworth corner, at the time Of
the Revolution, there stood quiet cot
tage, somewhat retired from the road,
under the shade of a stout chesnut tree.
1t was a quiet cottage, nesting away
there in one corner Of the forest road,
drear home in the wilderness, with
sloping roof, walls of dark grey stone,
and "a easement hidden among vines
and flowers. f.
On one side amid an interval of the
foreset trees, was seen ,he rough OUT
line of a. blacksmith's shop. There
was small garden in front, with a
brown gravelled walk, and beds of wild
flowers. s. aie .iA
Here, at the time of the Revolution,
there dwelt stout blacksmith, his
young wife and her babe. What car
ed that blacksmith, working away there
in that shadowy nook of the forest, for
iwar? 4 What feared he for the peril Of
the times; SO long as his strong arm,
ringing that hammer on the anvil,
might gain bread for his wife and
child? -. sa;.l..
All, he cared little for war, he took
little note of the panic that shook the
valley, when some few mornings be-
fore the battle of .Brandywine, while
shooting the horse of a Tory Refugee,
he overheard plot for the surprise and
capture of Washington. The Ameri-
can leader was to be lured into the
tolls of the Tories, his person once in
the British camp, the English Gener-
al might send the "1raitor Washing
ton" home, TO be tried in London.
13 Now our blacksmith, working away
there, in that dim nook of the forest,
without caring for battle or war, had
still sneaking kindness for this Mister
Washington, whose name rung on The
lips of all men. So one night, bid
ding his young wife hasty good bye,
and kissing the babe that reposed on
her bosom, smiling as it slept, he hur-
ried away to the American camp and
told his story to Washington.
1t was morning ere he came back
1t was in the dimness of the autumnal
morning, that the blacksmith was
Flooding mis- way ,along the forest road.
Some few PAGES ahead there was an
aged oak, standing out in the road-a
grim old veteran Of the forest, that had
stood the shocks of three hundred
years. Right beyond the oak was
that blacksmith's home.
With this thought warming his
heart, he hurried on. He hurried, on,
thinking of the calm young face and
mild blue eyes of that wife, who, the
night before, had stood in the cottage
door, waving him out Of sight with a
beckoned good bye-thinking of the
baby, that lay smiling as it slept upon
her bosom, he hurried on-he turned
the bend ofthe wood, he looked upon
his home.
All! what sight was there!
Where, the night, before, he had
left peaceful cottage, smiling under a
green chestnut tree, in the light of the
setting sun, now was only a heap of
black and smoking embers,a nd burnt
and blasted tree.
This was his home!
And there stood the blacksmith. ga
zing upon that wreck Of his hearth
stone-there he stood with folded
arms and moody brow; but in a mo-
Men. smile hroLa nver his face. 49,.
He saw itall. Inthe night his home
had taken fire, and had been burned to
cinders. But his wife and his child
had escaped. For that he thanked
God. eis
With the toll of his stout arm, plying
there on the anvil, he would build a
fairer home for his wife and child, fresh
flowers should bloom over the walk,
and more lovely vines trail along the
easement. agii
With this resolve -kindling over his
face,the blacksmith stood there, with a
cheerful light beaming upon his large
grey eyes, when a hand was laid upon
his shoulder. 1ss aa
He turned and beheld the face Of a
neighbor.
It was, a neighbours face, but there
was an awful agony aashinglfrom those
Drafting eyes-there was dark and a
terrible mystery speaking from those