Liberty advocate. [volume] (Liberty, Miss.) 1835-1866, 1846-02-28
THE MECHANIC HERO.
A TALE OF THE REVOLUTION

I'll use the advantage o: my power.
And lay the summers dust with show'rS
Of blood.
Rain'd from the wounds of Slaughtered
Englshmen
... SHAKSPEARE.
Near DiIworth corner, at the time Of
the Revolution, there stood quiet cot
tage, some what retired from the road,
under the shade of stout chestnut tree.
TWAS quiet cottage, nesting away there
in one corner Of the forest road, dear
home in the wilderness, with sloping roof,
walls of dark gray stone, and easement
hidden among vines and flowers.
On one side, amid an interval Of he
forest trees, was seen the rough outline OF
a blacksmith's shop.
There was small garden in front, tn
a brown gravelled walk and beds OF wild
flowers.
Here, at the time Of the Revolution,
there dwelt stout blacksmith, his young
wife and her babe What care that black
smith, working away there in that shad-
owy nook OF the forest, for war? What
feared he for the peril of the times, so
long as his strong arm, ringing that ham
mer on the anvil, might gain bread Tor
his wife and child.
All, he cared little for war, he took lit
tie note ofthe panic that shook the val
lev, when some few mornings before the
battle of Brandywine, while shoeing the
horse Of Tory Refugee, he overheard a
plot for the surprise and capture OF Wash
ington. The American leader was to be
luTed into the tolls of the Tories; his per-
son, once in the British camp the English
General might send the Traitor Wash
ington" home, to be tried in London.
Now our blacksmith, working away
there in that dim nook oil the forest with,
out caring for battle or war, had sui a
sneaking kindness for this Mister Wash
ington; whose name rang on the lips oil
ali men. SO one night, bidding his wife
o hasty good bye, and kissing the babe
that reposed on her bosom, smiling as |:
slept, he hurried away 10 the American
camp, and told his story to Washing
ton.
l, twas morning ere he came back. i
was in the Gmness of the autumna morn
ing, that the blacksmith was plodGing his
way, along the forest road. Some few
PAGES ahead there was an aged oak stand
ing out in the road-a grim old veteran
Of the forest, that had stood the shocks
of three hundred years. Right beyond
that oak was that blacksmith's home.
With this thought warming his heart
he hurried on. lie hurried on, thinking
of the calm young face and mild blue eyes
of that wife, who, the night before, hac
stood in the cottage door, waving him ou
OF sight with beconed good bye-think
ing ofthe baby, that lay smiling as it sep
upon her bosom, he hurried on--he turned
the bend of the wood, he looked upor
his home.
aa All! what sight was there! .
"a. Where, the night before, he had left g
peaceful cottage, smiling under greer
chesnut tree, in the light of the setting
sun, now was only heap of black ant
smoking embers, and burnt and BLASTED
tree!
This washis honey
And there stood the blacksmith, gazing
upon that wreck of his hearth-slone-
there he stood, with folded arms an(
moody brow; but in a moment smli
broke over his face.
- He saw it all. In the night his hom
had taken fire, and been burned to GIN
ders, But his wife, his child had escaped
For that he thanked God.
With The toll of his stout arm, ply IN
there on the anvil, he would build iall