Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1857-02-26
Gaeof tie Attol1ttto1r.
THE HERO OF BRANDYWINE.

heVoiutl0n, tnere StOOu qulet cottaSe,
somewhat retired from the road under the
shade ola stout chesnut tree. 1t was aquiet
cottage, nesting away there in one corner
of the forest road-a dear home in the will
derness, with sloping roof, walls of dark
gray stone, and easement hidden among
vines and flowers, ..
On one side, amid an interval of the for
est trees, was seen the rough outline of a
blacksmith's shop. There was small gar
den in front, with 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 cared the blacksmith, working away
there in the shadowy nook of the forest, for
war;. What feared he for the peril of the
time, 50 long as that strong arm, ringing the
hammer on the anvil, might gain bread for
his wife and child
,sAh, he cared little for war; he took little
note of the.panic that shook the valley, when
some few mornings before the battle of Bran
dywine, while shoeing the horse of Tory
refugee, he overheard a plot for the surprise
and capture of Washington.
The American leader was to be lured into
the tolls Of the Tories, his person once in the
British camp, the English General might
send the "Traitor Washington" home, to be
tried in London.
Now, our blacksmith, working away there
in that dim nook of the forest, without car
ing for battle or war, hao still a sneaking
kindness for the "Mister Washington" !"
whose name rang on the lips of all men.
$50, one night, bidding his young wife a
hasty goodbye, and kissing the babe that
reposed on her bosom, smiling as it slept, he
hurried away to the American camp, and
told his story to Washington.
1t was morning ere he came back. 1t was
in the dimness of the autumn morning that
the blacksmith was ploddiug his way along
the forest road. Some few PAGES ahead there
was an aged oak standing out into the road
"a grim old veteran of the forest, that had
stood the shocks of three hundred years.
Right beyond that oak stood the blacksmith
house.
With the thought warming his heart, he
hurried on. He hurried on, thinking of the
calm young face and mild blue eyes of that
wife, who, the night before stood in the cot,
tage door, waving him out of sight with a
beckoned goodbye, thinking Of the babe
that lay smiling as it slept on her bosom, he
hurried, on-he turned the bend of the wood
he looked upon his home.
All, what sight was there?
Where, the night before, he had left q
peaceful cottage, smiling under a greer
chestnut tree, in the light of the setting sun
now was only heap of black and smoking
embers, and burnt and blasted tree?
This was his home!
And there stood the blacksmith gazing
upon chat wreck of his hearth-stone; there
he stood with folded arms and moody brow
but in moment smile broke over his
face.
He saw it all. In the night his home haG
taken fire, and been burned to cinders. But
his wife and child had escaped. For thai
he thanked God.
With the toll of his stout arm, playing
there on the anvil, he would build fairel
home for his wife and child; fresh flower.
should bloom over the garden walks, anc
more lovely vines trail along the easement
With this resolve kindling over his face
the blacksmith stood there, with Cheerful
light beaming from his large grey eyes, wher
"a hand was laid upon his shoulder. HI
turned and beheld the face of a neighbor
1t was aneighbor's face, but there was al
awful agony flashing from those dilating eye:
there was dark and terrible mystery
speaking from those thin lips, that moved
and moved, and made no sound.
For moment that farmer tried to speal
the horror that convulsed his features
At last, forcing the blacksmith along tn,
brown gravelled walk, now strewn with Gin
ders, he pointed to the smoking embers
There, there amid that heap of black ant
smoking ruins, the blacksmith beheld darl
mass of flesh and blackened bones!
"Your wife !" shrieked the farmer, as hi
agony found words; sthe British, they cam