The Columbia Democrat. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1837-1850, 1846-01-03

ihln lips, that moved and moved. but made
no sound.
For momen, that farmer ued to speak
the horror that convulsed his feature.
AT last forcing the blacksmith along the
brown gravelled walk, now srewn with
cnders, he pointed 10 the smoking embeIs.
There, there amid that heap of black and
smoking ruin, the blacksmith beheld a
dark mass Of burnt flesh aud backened
bones.
Your ,o3e!' shrieked the farmer, q. his
agony found words. The British they
came IN the night, they'--and ,hen NJ
spoke that outrage. which the lip quivers
. think on, which the heart grows palsied
% tell that outrage too foul TO name
Your Wife he shrieked, pointing 10 lha
aideons lhlng, amid the smoking ruins
Ih0 Bnlish they murdered yout wife, they
lung her dead body in the flames the,
iashed your child against the hoarihstone!
This was the farmers story.
And there, as the gh, Of the breaking
day fell around the spot, there stood the
husband, the father, gszing upon that mas:
of burned flesh and bl4ckeneG bones-al
that waS once his tcDe.
Do YOU ask me for the words that tvem
bed from his white lips! Do you ask IN,
'or tie fire that bazed IN his eye!
ca0not tell you, Bot can tell 70,
that there was vow going up TO ieavel
from that bl,cksmilh's heart; that ihere wa
a clencbed hand,vprased, in the ligh, Of .h
breaking day!
Yes, yes, as lhs fret gean Of Ihs autum
nal dawn broke around tho spot, as the frs
ong sIs4m Of sunlight sreamed over th'
peeled skull Of that fair young wl(s--sh,
HaI that last nishl--tGeto was a vow geini
up 10 Heaven, the vow of a madLened hear
and augushed brain.
How was that vow kepl3 Go there Il
Brandy wine and where the carnage gait
ers ihckesb where The fght is most blood.
here yeu may see slou! form s.rIdIog on
ItIng a huge hammer ih'o Eghl-W hpr
hat hammer falls, il kills. wher5 thar ham
mer strikes it cIushes! ltls the blacksmith
form. And The uar-cry lhat he shouts? |
II a mad cry of venge4nce-haII howl, hal
hurrah! is ii but a fierce yeIl, breaking u
from his hearing chesI'
All no! All no!
Is it Ire name of--MARy! Ii is tn
name Of his young wife!
Oh, Mary sweetest name of woman
name SO soft, so ripling, 50 musical-nsm
uf lhe Molter Of Jesus. made holy by po
etry and reigion-how strangely did you
Sylables Of music ring ou! from that black
smiths lips, as he went numbering ch
'Nary! he shouts, as he drags that red
coated trooper from his s'ced; MARY! h
shreks, as his hammer crashes dowr
laying that officer in the dust, Look
Another officer, with a gallant face an
form another officer, glillerng in tnse
clasps that blacksmith by the knees, an
begs mercy.
Il have a wife--mercy! have wifi
yonder IN gIand-spare mel
The blacksmith, crazed as he s,remble
there is tear in his eye.
q would spare you, but there i5 form
before me-the form of my dead wife
That TORN has gone before ne all day.
She calls on me to strike!
And the hammer leII, and then rang ou
that strange wa,-cry-'MARY!'
At last when the battle was over, he wa
'ound by a wae0her, who bad at !eas
shoulGered cart whip in his country's ser
vce--he was found siI'ing by the roadside
his head sunken, his ley broken-lhe If
blood yelling from his many wounds,
The WAGNER would have carried hin
from the field, bu, the stout blacksmith re
fused.
you see, neghbor,' he said, in ths
voice husky with death, i never meddle
with the British uII they burned my home
ull Ihey'--he could not speak the ou
rage, bu, his wife, his child, were ever bt
fore his dying eyes.-'and now I've 5l
live minutes life in me. I'd like 10 give