Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1852-04-08
THE STORY TELLER.
From Graham's Magazine for April.
A TRUE IRISH STORY.
BY REDWOOD FISHER

Si' BY REDWOOD FISHER.
- in-Go-Brah,' the celebrated Irish song o
an exiled patriot-why it was written by
Scotchman, with an interesting account o
Campbell, the poet, and some account of Gen
A. McC-n, the Irish patriot.
o, sad is my fate, said the heart-broken stranger;
The wild deer and wolf to covert can flee,
But have no refuge from famine and danger,
A home and country remain not for me.
All! never again in the green shady bowers,
Where my nrefathers lived shall spend the sweet hours
Or cover my harp with the wild woven flowers,
And strike the sweet numbers of Erin -go-bragh.
-. .. See CampbelFs Poems.
In the year 1910, native of PhiIadelphi;
resided in the city of Altoona, and became init
mately acquainted with Gen. McC-, wht
commanded the Irish patriots at the battle O
Ballanahench. ..
The general was real Irish gentleman
with heart alive TO every refined sympathy o
human nature, and warmly attached to Ameri
cans and the American character. Never car
it be forgotten by those who were so happy as
to share mis- confidence, how his fine manly
countenance would light up. as he listened to
the answers his questions would draw forth
when inquiring into the private characters Of
any of our revolutionary sages or soldiers.
Often would the tears start into his eyes,
when, at the social bowl, some unpublished an
ecdote would be elected of the daring of Put
nam, the Hannibal-like qualities of Greene and
Marion, the persevering bravery of Rifle Nor
gan, or the daring of Gen. Wayne in his bat
ties with the savage foe.
His whole soul would appear to flash from
his expressive eye, and he would burst forth
with the exclamation: 'Oh, Erin. oh my be-
loved country, from which, alas | am banish-
ed, when will heroes such as these arise and
burst the bands by which thou art enslaved J.
Will just God never hear thy prayers9 Will
the groans of enslaved millions, will the ago
nies of brave and generous people never reach
thy throne, and call down thy vengeance upon
her persecntorsl Excuse me, he would say,
excuse the companion of the Emmets, the
McNevens, and others, who were confined with
me in Fort George, in Scotland, from whence
| was transported hither-baushed What a
word banished from the home of my child
hood-iorn from the land where my fnrefathers
dwelt!' On one occasion of this kind, when
the most of the company had retired, in his
own hospitable mansinn he invited his Phila-
deIpha friend to remain and hear the sad story
of his life
He rose from the table, and going TO book
case, he produced a copy of Campbell's poems,
and turning to the beautiful song of Erin-go
bragh-' there, said he, is my history, am
the original Erin-go-hragh. My countrymen,
I am told, often inquire how it happened that a
Scotchman should write this national, this
glowing account of the wrongs of my devoted
countrymen. Listen TO me, and | will truly
tell you the whole story-that is, if | can tell
it If can sufficiently compose myself, you
shall hear it; and should you survive me you
may publish it, that the mystery may be solved
and the world may know how the heart of the
Scotch poet was touched with the holy sympa-
thy of onr common nature, and has placed on
record, in the most exalted and touching num-
bers, the feeling of an Irish exile. While con-
fined in the fortress of Fort George, l was,
without any knowledge of what was to be my
fate, conveyed to seaport and put on board o
an English frigate, to be banished | knew moi
whither!' (The name of the port of embarka-
tion and of the vessel were given, bnt are moi
now remembered.) 'On board of this vessel
was Campbell, the Scotch poet, then about to
make his pedestrian tour on the continent OF
Europe. 1t was not long before we became
intimately acquainted, and as you may suppose
my whole heart was filled with woe.
During our passage to this place, we had
many and very close conversations, pending
which poured into his attentive ear, in impas
stoned language, the sad-the overwhelming
woes of my countrymen, and particularly m,
own hasd fate.
We were not very long in reaching our des
tination-we landed together at Altona, AM
what was my surprise to find my companion a
destitute of money as myself. | had bee
hurried away without the knowledge of m
friends, who had no intimation of my Danish
ment, and coming from close confinement, wa
not overburdened with a wardrobe, muc
less with the necessary funds for decency, t
say nothing of comfort.
Campbell was as poor as myself, and in thi
condition we entered very common inn an
were ushered into room, not very well fur
nished, having nothing but an oaken table ant
very few common chairs. We seated our
selves at opposite sides of the table, and gaze
at each other with no enviable feelings, when
on examining our exchequer, we found tn
whole sum in the treasury amounted to no NOR
than crown We called for candle, for
was growing dark, and ordered, in consonanc
with our finances, small bottle of rum. Th
light came, and YOU must believe me when
tell you it was dip candle stuck in black bo
tie. There was something so ludicrous In this
and in our general circumstances, that we bot
INDUCED in hearty laugh, applying ourselve
to the "Cruise Keen Lawn" to keep up for
time the tone of our feelings.
AS our spirits were operated upon by th
wretched liquor, which we drank more I
drown the rising sigh than for any partialit
for it, Campbell called fo- pen, ink and pape
"Mr. McC.," said he, "your story has deepl
interested me, and kind of notion has arise
that should like to put it upon paper"