Cooper's Clarksburg register. [volume] (Clarksburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1851-1861, 1857-01-09
INcIlDENrs.

.
The hero ofthe following thrilling sto-
ry was embodied in the person of stout
blacksmith. aye, an humble blacksmith,
but in bisrstout frame, hardened with toll.
throbbed as generous an impulse Of frees
dom as ever beat in the bosom La Fay
ette, or around the heart of the mad An.
thony Wayne. sstr. Nj
It was in full tide OF the retreat that q
follower of the American camp. who had
at least shouldered cart whip in his
country's service. was dragging bag.
gage wagon from the field of ballle. willie
some short distance behind. q body OF
cOntinentals were pushing forward with
hody OF British in pursuit.
The wagon had arrived at a narrow
point Of the by-road leading 10 the south.
where too high banks Of rocks and cr4gs,
arising on either side. afforded just space
sufficient for the passage of the baggage
wagons, and not an inch more.
His eyes were arrested by the sight Of
stout muscular man, apparently some
forty years of age, extended at the foot oi
tree at the very opening Of the pass
He was clad in the coarse attire of me-
chanic. His coat had been flung aside.
and with his shirt sleeves rolled up from
his muscular arms, he lay extended on the
turf with his rife in his grasp. while the
blood poured in torrent from his right
leg, which was broken at the knee by
cannon ball.
The wagoner's sympathies were arres-
ted by the sight. He would have paused
in the very instance of his flight, and
placed the wounded man in his wagon,
but the stout hearted man refused.
"l'Il not go into your wagon" said he.
in his roagh way. but Ill tell you what
l will do. Do you see yonder cherry
tree on the top of that rock that hangs
over the road ? Do you think you can
lift man Of my build up there For
you see neighbor." he continued. while
the blood flowed down from his wound.
IL never meddled with the Britishers un>
til they came trampling over this valley
and burned my house down. And now
I'm all riddled to pieces, and hsint got
more than fifteen minutes in me but
l've got three balls in my cartridge box.
and SO Just prop me up against that tree.
and Ill give the whole three shots, and
them" exclaimed the blacksmith, "1'll
die"
The wagner started his horses ahead.
and then with sudden effort dragged the
wounded man along the sod to The foot Of
the tree. His face was 10 the advancing
troopers, and while his shattered leg hung
over the bank. the WAGNER rushed on the
way. when the doomed blacksmith pro.
ceeded cody TO load his rifle.
1t was not long before body Of Amo.
rican soldiers rushed by with the British
10 pursuit. The blacksmith greeted them
with a shout, and. raising his rifle to his
shoulder, he picked the I, remost from his
spirited steed, with the exclamation
That's for General Washington i"
Iu moment the rife was reloaded
aud again it was fred, aud the pursuing
British rode over another OF their fallen
officers.
That's for myself" cried The black
smith. and then, with hand strong with
the feeling of approaching death. again
loaded. raised his rlAe-fred his last shot
and another soldier kissed the sod A
tear quivered in the eye of the dying
blacksmith
{" And that" he said with a husky
voice, which strengthened almost into a
shout. " is for mad Anthony Wayne II
Loug after the battle of the Brandy.
wine was past. the body was discovered
against the tree. with the features frozen
in death, smiling grimly; while his right
hand still grasped The never failing ride
And thus died one Of the thousand brave
mechanic heroes of the Revolution; brave
III the hour of battle, undaunted in the
1our Of retreat. and undismayed 10 the
moment Of death.