Wyoming democrat. [volume] (Tunkhannock, Wyoming Co., Pa.) 1867-1940, 1868-07-22
VALLEY FORGE.
A Legend of the Revolution.
BY GEORGE LIPPARD.


waste of snow.
1t was cold dark winter night, and
the snow began to fall-while from the
fireplace of the old farm m-house, the cheer.
ful blaze of massive logs, flashed around a
wide and spacious room.
Two persons sat there by that fire, a
father and child The father who sits
yonder, with soldiers belt thrown over
his farmers dress, is a man of some fifty
years, his eyes blood-shot, bis hair, chang
ed to ultimately gray, his face wrinkled
and followed by care, and by dissipation
more than care.
And the daughter who sits in the full
light of the blaze opposite her father-a
slenderly formed girl of some seventeen
years, clad in course l:nsey shirt and
kerchief, which made up the costume of
farmers daughter in the days Of the
Revolution.
She is not beautiful ah, no!
Care perhaps tkat disease consumption,
which makes the heart grow cold to name,
has been busy with that young face, sharp.
ened its outlines, stamped it with death =
ly paeness:
There is no bloom on that young cheek.
The brown hair is laid plainly aside from
her pale brow. Then tell me, what is it
you see when You gaze in her face?
1ou look at that young girl, aud see
nothing but the CLEAN Of two large dark
eyes, that burn into your soul.
Yet, those eyes are unnaturalIy dark,
and large and bright perhaps consump-
tion is feeding their iame.
And now then as the father sits there
so moody and sulIen, or the daughter sits
yonder SO sad and silent and pale, tell me
| pray you, the story Of their lives.
The farmer, Jacob Mannheim, was a
peaceful, happy man before the Revolu-
tion. Since the war; lie had become
drunken, and idle driven his wife brok-
enhearted to the grave and, worse than
all, joined band of Tory refugees, who
secured the land at dead of night, burn
ING and numbering as they went.
Tonight at the hour of two, this Tory
band will lie in wait in neighbnring pass
to attack aud murder the rebel Washing
ton, whose starving soldiers are yonder in
the huts of Valley Forge.
Washington, on his lonely journeys, is
went to pass this farmhouse the cut
throats are there in the next chamber,
drinking and feasting as they wait for two
o'clock at night.
And the daughter Mary-for her name
was Mary they loved that name IN the
good old times-what is the story of her
brief young life?
She had been reared by her mother, now
dead and gone home, to revere this man
Washington, who tonight will be attack
ed and murdered ; to revere him next to
God. Nay, more, that mother, on her
| death-bed, joined the hands of this daugh-
ter in solemn betrothal with the hands oil
a young partizan leader, Harry Williams,
who now shares the crust and the cold at
Valley Forge.
Well may that maiden's eye flush with
unnatural brightness, well may her pale
face gather a single flush in the centre oi
each cheek,
For yesterday afternoon, she went four
miles over roads of ice and snow, to tell
Captain Williams 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, the
partizan captain will occupy the rocks
above the ncighboring pass, to trap the
trappers of George Washington.
| Yes, that pale, slender girl, remember
ing the words of her diving mother hat
broken through her obedience to her faith
er, after long and bitter struggle. How
dalk that struggle in a faithful daughters
heart !! She had betrayed his plot to hi
enemies, stipuIating first for the life ant
safety of her traitor father.
And now, as father and child are sitting
there. the shouts of the Tory refugees echo
from the next chamber, as the hand of th,
old clock is on the hour of eleven -
Hark there is sound of horses hoof
without the farmhouse there is a pause
the door opens; tall stranger, wrapped
in thick cloak, white as snow, enters, aa
vanccs to the fire, and in brief words solic
its some refreshments and an hours re,
poe.
Why does the Tory Mannheim star
aghast at the sight of the strangers blu
and gold uniform Then mumblin,
something to his daughter about getttn
some food for the traveller, rush wildl
into the next room where his brothe
Tories are feasting.
Tell me, why does that young girl stan
trembling before tie tall stranger, yelling
her eyes from that calm face, with Its blu
eyes and kindly smile
All, if we may believe the legends Q
that time, few men, few warriors. who dar
ed the terrors of battle with smile cou
stand unabashed before the solemn pres
ence of Washington.
For it was Washington, exhausted will
long journey; his limbs stifened an,
his face numbed with cold; it was tn
great rebel of Valley Forge, who return
ing to his camp sooner than his usual hour
was forced by the storm to take refuge il
the farmers house, and claim little foot
and hours repose at his hands.
In few moments, behold the soldie
with bis cloak thrown off sitting at tha
oakeu table, partakiug Of the food spreat