Cooper's Clarksburg register. [volume] (Clarksburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1851-1861, 1855-10-10
THE ECIIANIC HERO.



Near Dalworth corner, at the time of
the Revolution, there stood quiet COT
tage, somewhat retired from the road, un-
der the shade Of stout chestnut tree
1t was quiet cottage, nesting away
there in one corner of the forest road, q
dear home in the Wilderness, with slOping
roof, walls of dark gray stone and case
ment hidden among vines and flowers.
On one side, amid an interval of forest
trees, was seen the rough outlines of a
blacksmith shop. There was n small
garden in front, with a brown gravelled
walk and Ecds Of beautiful flowers. Here,
at the time of the Revolution, there dwelt
stout, hardy blacksmith working away
in that shady nook of the forest, for war?
What feared he for the peril OF times, so
long as his strong arm, ringing that ham,
mcr on the anvil, might gain bread for his
wife and child ? All, he cared little for
war-he took little note of the panic that
shook the valley-when some few morn
ings before the battle Of Brandywine,
while shOcing the horse of Tory Refu-
gee, he overheard plot for the surprise
and capture of Washington. The Ame-
rican leader was to be lured into The folds
of the Tories his person once in the Brit
ish camp, the English General might
send the " Irnitrr, Washington" home
to DC tried in London. Now our black
smith, working away there in that dim
nook Ut the forest, without caring for bat.
tie ur war, had still sneaking kindness
tor this Mister Washington, whose name
rang on the lips OF all men. So one night,
bidding his wife hasty good bye, and
kissed the babe th"t 'reposcd on her hos
som, smiling MS it slept, he hurried away
to tn" American camp, and told the story
to Washington.
1t was morn ere lie came back-it was
;hr dimn"SS of the autumnal morning that
III" black smith WAS puddny his way along
the forest road. S 'mc few PAGES ahead
there WAS an aged oak standing out in
the road-a gr.m old veteran OF the for
est that had stood the shocks of three
hundIcd years. Right beyond that oak
was lhr black smiths home With this
thought warming his heart, he hurried on
he hurried ON thinking of the calm
young face and mild kur eyes OF his wife.
who, the night before, had stood in the
cottage door waivinw him out Of sight,
with IL bcckoncd good byc-thinking of
that baby who lay smiling, as it slept
upon her bosom. He hurried on--!c
turned the bend Of the wood, he looked
upon his home. An what IL sight WAS
there ? Where, the night before, he had
left IL peaceful cottage, smiling under IL
green chestnut tree, in the light Of the
setting sun, now WAS only heap of black
and smoking emberS, and IL burnt and
blasted tree. This was his home And
there stood the blacksmith, gazing upon
the wreck Of his hcarthstOne-thcre he
stood with folded arms and moody brow
but Ill moment IL smile broke over his
face. He saw it all. In the night his
home had taken fire, and been burned to
cindcrS, but his wife and child had es-
Caped-for that he thanked God With
the toll of his stout arm, plying there on
the anvil, he would build lairer home
for his wife and child, fresh flowers should
bloom over the walks, and more lively
vines trail over the easement. With this
resolve kndlng over his face, the black
smith stood there, with Il cheerful light
beaming upon his large grey eyes, when
hand was laid upon his shoulder.
lie turned, and beheld the face Of a
neiyhbOr. 1t was Il neiyhbor's face but
there was an awful agony flashing from
those dIIaIing eyeS-there was Il dark and
terrible mystery speaking from those
thin lips that moved and moved, but
made no sound. For moment the far
mer tried to speak the horror that convul.
Sed his features. At last, forcing the
blacksmith down the brown grayelled
H., L.,
ted to !he smoking embers. These, these
AMID that heap of black and smoking
RUNS the blacksmith beheld dark m 5
OF burnt flesh blackcned bones. "Youl
NNe !: Shrlcked the farmer, as his agony
iouad woruS' " The British they came
IN the night they'-and then he spoke
mat courage which the lip Quivered tc
think on which the heart grows paralized
TO tell-that outrage too foul to name
" } our Wife," he shrieked, pointing tc
That hldeous mass amid the smoking RI.
ms: " The British, they murdered Won,
vile; they flung her dead BODY in the
flames they dashed your child against
the hearthstone." This was the farmers
story. And there as the light of the
breaking day fell around the spot, there
stood the husband, the father gazing up
on that mass of flesh and blackeuet
bones' all that was once his wife d.
you ask me for the words that tremhleC
from his white lips? Do YOU ask m,
for the fire that blazed from his ewes .
l. cannot tell you but can tell YOU tha
there was vow going up to heaven from
that blacksmith's heart that there IVA
clenched hand upraised in the Iipht o