The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1861-05-09
VALLEY FORGE.
4 GkafcEa Of the Revolution.

old farm house the cheerful blaze of massive
| logs flashed around wide and spacious room.
1.-TWO persons sat by the fre--a father and
Child. The father, who sits yonder with a sol
dier's belt thrown over his farmers dress, is a
man of some fifty years, hiseyeS bloodshot, his
face wrinkled with care, and by dissipation
more than care.
The daughter who sits in the full light of the
blaze, is a slender formed girl Of some seven
teen years, clad in a coarse linsey skirt and
kerchief which made up the costume of a farm
er's daughter in the days of the Revolution.
She was not beautiful-ah no.
/ Cere-perhaps that disease, consumption
which makes the heart grow cold to name
have been busy with that yOnng face, sharp
enlng its outlines and stamping it with deadly
! palenes.
There is no bloom on that pale cheek. The
brown hair is laid plainly aside from that pale
brow. Then tell me what it is you see when
you gaze into her face.
| You look at that young girl and see nothing
but the CLEAN Of two large eyes, that burn into
your soul.
Yes, those eyes are unuaturaly large, and
dark, and bright; perhaps consumption is feed
ing them.
And now, as the father sits there SO moody
and silent and pale, tell me, pray you,the sto-
ry of their life.
That man, Jacob Mannheim, was a peaceful
happy man before the Revolution. Since the
wsr began, he has become drunken and idle,
driven his wife, broken-hearted, to the grave,
and worse than all, joined band of tory rcfu-
gees, who scour the land at the dead Of night,
burning and numbering as tho go.
Tonight, at the hour of two, this tory band
will lie in wait at a neighboring pass, to attack
and murder the rebel, Washington, whose starry
ing soldiers are yonder in the haunts of Valley
Forge.
Washington, in his lonely iourneyings, is
wont to pass this farm house; the cut tbroats are
in the next room, drinking and feasting,as they
wait for two o'clock at night.
And the daughter Mary her name was Mary;
they loved that name III those good old timesI
what is the story of her life
She had been reared by the mother, now dead
and goue home to revere this man Washington,
who will be attacked and murdered to revere
HIM next TO God. Nay, more; that mother, ON
her death bed, Joined the hands Of Mary and a
partisan leader Henry Williams, who now
shares the crust aud cold at Valley Forge.
Well might the maiden's eye fash with I'M
natural brightness; well may hey pale face gath
er single burning flush III tho centre OF each
cheek
For yesterday afternoon she went four miles
over roads of ice and snow, to tell Capt. Will
liams of the plot Of the refugees. She did not
reach Valley Forge until Washington had left
on one of his lonely journeys SO, this night at
twelve o'clock TIE partisan company occupied
the rocks above the ncighberirg pass, to t ap
the trappers of George Washington.
! Yes, that slender eirl,remem6e'i the words
of her dying mother, had broken through the
obedience to her father, after long and bitter
| struggle. How hard and sore that struggle III
a faithful daughters heart! She had betrayed
his plot to bis enemies, stipuating first for the
life of her father.
And now as father and child are sitting there,
! tAo shouts Of the Tory refugees echO froI1 the
next chamber,as the old clock is On the eleven.
Hank there is sound Of horses feet within
the farm yard; there IS pause; the door opens,
and tall fgnre, wrapped in q thick cloak,
white with snow, sohcits some refreshments
and an hours repose.
Why does the tory Mannheim start aghast at
the sight Of the strangers blue and gold uni
form? Then mumbnr to his daughter about
! getting some food for the traveller, he rushed
wildly into the next room where his brother
Tories were feasing. Tell me, why does that
young girl stand trembling before the tall stran-
ger, yeiing her eyes from that calm face with
blue eyes and kindly smile.
! All if we may believe the legends of that
| time, few men, few warriors, who dared the ter
rOfs OF battle with a smile could stand unabash-
ed before the solemn presence of Washington.
For it was Washington, exhausted with a long
journey, his limbs stiffened his face benumbed
with cold. It was the rebel Of Valley Forge,
who, returning to the camp sooner than his
usual hour was forced by the storm TO take rel
uge in the farmers house and claim a little food
and an hours rest at his hands. In few min
utes, behold this stranger with his cloak thrown
Off, sitting at the oaken table, eating the food
spread out there by the girl who stands trem-
bling by his side.
And look! her hand is extended,as if to warn
him of his danger but she makes no sound -
Why all this agony for the man who sits 50
calmly there?
One moment ago, as the girl i'll preparing the
hasty supper, opened the door Of yonder closet
adjoining the next DOM, she heard the low
whispers of her father and the Tories. She
heard the dice box rattle as they were casting
| lots to sec whu should stab Washington in his
! seep
| And now the words Besare on this night
you die :" trembed half iormed, upon her lips,
when her father comes hastily into the room,a and
bushes her with look.
| Show the gentleman into his chamber, Ma
ry, how calmly polite murderer can be) What
chamber at the head of the stairs on the left
On the left, you mind
Mary takes the light, trembling aud pa,e.-
She leads the soldier up the old oaken stairs.
They stand on the landing, i'll this wing of the
farm house, composed Of two rooms, divided
by thick walls from the main body OF the man
sion. On one side, the right, is the door Of
Marys chamber on the other the left, is the
chamber of the soldier, to him a chamber of
death.
For moment Mary stands there, trembling
and confused. Washington gazes u on the pale
girl with look OF surprise. Look she Is about
to warn him of his danger, when, see there
her fathers rOuob fapn auDparS above the head
OF the stairs.
! Mary show that gentleman into the room
on the left. And lock ye, girl It's getting late
aud you had better go to sleep.
While the tory watches from the head OF the
stairs, Washington enters the room on the left;
Mary on the right.
An hour passes. Still the storm beats on the
root still the snow drifts on the hills. Before
the fire, in the dim old hall Of that farm house,
are seven drunken men, with that tall tory, ia
cob Mannheim, sitting in their midst, the MUIR
derer's knife in his hand for the lot has fallen
to him. He ID to 60 up and stab that sleeping
man.
Even this half drunken murderer turns pale
at the thought; how the knife trembes IN his
! guilty hand trembes against the pistol barrel;
the Jeers OF his comrades arouse him to the
work the light is in one hand, the knife in the
other; he goes mp stairs he listens first at the
] "
the door of the soldier, on the left he is gone
a moment; Silence there is faint groan he
comes forth again, rushes down the stairs, and
stands before the FIRE with the bloody knife in
his hand
Look = he shriek5, as he scattcrs the red
drops Of blood over his comrades, and over the
hearth, into the fire, look it is the blood Of
the traitor, Washington
! His comrades gather around him with yells of
Joy; already, in fancy, they count the gold which
will be theirs for this deed, when 10 the stair
door opens, and there, without wound, stands
George Washington, asking calmly for his
horse
What shrieked the tory Mannheim, can
neither steel nor bullets harm your Are you
a living man? Is there no wound in your uni
form?
Il The spparition drives him mad.
He starts forward, he places his hand trem-
!, blingly upon the arms and breast Of Washing