Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1876-09-30


to cinders. But his wife-his child |
escaped; for that he thanked God.
With the toll of his stout arm ply
ing there on the anvil, he would build
a fairer house for wife and child; fresh
flowers should bloom over the garden
walks, and more lovely vines trail
along the easement.
With this resolve lKindling over his
face, the blacksmith stood there, with
cheerful light beaming from his large
gray eyes, when hand was laid upon
shoulder.
He turned and beheld the face of a
neighbor.
1t was a neighbor but there was an
awful agony stamping those plain feat
ures-there was an awful agony fash
ing from those dilating there was
dark and terrible mystery speaking
from those thin lips, that moved but
made no sound.
At last, forcing the blacksmith along
the brown graveled walk, now strewn
with cinders, he pointed to the snok-
ing embers. There, there-amid that
heap of black and smoking ruins, the
blacksmith beheld a dark mass of
burnt flesh and blackened bones.
Your wife r. shrieked the farmer,
as his agony found words. The Brit
ish they came in the night; they
And then spoke that outrage which
the lip quivers to think on, which the
heart palsied to tell-~Your wife, he
shrieked, pointing to thathideous thing
amid the smoking ruins; the British
they murdered your wife, they flung her
dead body in the fames-they dashed
your child against the hearthstone."
This was the farmers story.
And there, as the light of breaking
| day fell round the spot, there stood
the husband, the father, gazing upon
that mass of burned flesh and black
ened bones-all that was once his wife.
Do you ask me for the words that
trembled from his white lips? Do you
ask me for the FIRE that blazed in his
| eye? Il AF @1Af AN
1 cannot tell you. But l can tell
you that there was VOW going up to
heaven from the blacksmiths heart
that there was clenched hand, up
raised in the light of the breaking day.
Yes, yes, as the first gieam of the
autumnal dawn broke around the spot,
as the first long CLEAN Of sunlight
streamed over the peeled skull of that
fair young wife-she that was last night
there was a vow of maddened heart
and anguished brain.
How was that VOW kept? Go there
to Brandy wine, and where the car
mage gathers thickest, where the fight
is most bloody, there you may see a
stout form striding on. lifting huge
hammer into light Where that ham,
mer falls, it kills-where that hammer
strikes it crushesl 1t is the black
smiths form. And the war-cry that
he shout? Is it mad cry of venge-
ance-half howl, half hurrah? Is it
but fierce yell, breaking up from his
I heavy chest?
All, mol All, no
1t is the name of-Maryl 1t is the
name of his young wife
Oh, Mary-sweetest name of woman
name so soft, so ripping, so musical
name of the mother of Jesus, made
holy by poetry and religion-hOw
strangely did your syllables of music
ring out from that blacksmith's lips,
as be went numbering on
Mary he shouts, as he drags the
relocated trooperfrom his steed; Ma
ryl he shrieks, as his hammer crashes
: down, laying that officer in the dust.
Look Another officer with gallant
face and form-another officer, glitter
ing in tinsel, clasps that blacksmith by
the knees and begs for mercy.
II have wife-merey | have a
wife yonder in England-spare me p
The blacksmith, crazed as he is,
trembles; there is a tear in his eye.
II would spare you, but there is a
form before me-the form of my dead
wife That form has gone before me
all day She calls on me to strike p
And the hammer fell, and then rang
out that strange war cry-''Mary
At last, when the battle was over, he
was found by a WAGNER, who had at
last shouldered a eart-whip in his
country serviee-he was found sitting
by the roadside, his head sunken, his
his many wounds.
The WAGNER would have carried
him from the field, but the stout black
smith refused.
You see, neighbor," he said in a
i voice husky with death, "Inever med
died with the British till they burned
/ my home, till they" He could
not speak the outrage, but his wife,
his child, were there before his dying
eyes. And now I've but FIVE minutes
r life in me. I'd like to give shot at
the British before l die. Dye see that
cherry tree?
Dye think you could drag a man Of
my build up thar? Place me thar
give me a powder-horn, three rife
balls, an a good rife; that's all | ask. ,
The WAGNER granted his request; he
lifted him to the foot of the cherry
tree, he placed the rife, the balls, the
powder-horn in his grasp.
= Then whipping his horses through
the narrow pass, from the summit of {
r neighbOring height he looked dowI
upon the last scene Of the blacksmith
E life.
There lay the stout man, at the foOt
j of the cherry tree, his head sunk, hT
broken leg hanging over the roadside
bank The blood was streaming from
his wounds-he was dying.
Suddenly he raised his head-asounC
on his ears. A party of British came
e rushing along the narrow road, mac
t with carnage, and thirsting for blood
e They pursued scattered band of con
: tinentals. An officer led the way, wav
= ing them on with his sword.
e The blacksmith loaded his rifle; will
}, that eye, bright in death, he took the
y aim.
g That's for Washington" he shout
ed as he fired The officer lay culver
J., ing in the roadside dust On and OIL
S came the British, nearer and nearer tt
/ cherry tree-the continentals sweep
t the pass. Again the blacksmith load.
? ed-again he fired.
e That's for mad Anthony Wayne I
: he shouted, and another officer bit the
t sod.
The British now came rushing on tC
< the cherry tree, determined to cut dowT
e the wounded man, who, with his face
e toward them, bleeding as he was, deal
= death among their ranks. A fair-vis
e aged officer, with golden hair waving
In the wind led them on.
: The blacksmith raised his rife; will
s that hand stitfening in death he tool
e aim-he fred-the young Briton fell
| with a sudden shrek. And that.
- cried the blacksmith, in a voice tina
strengthened into shout, and that.
Y for"
!, His voice was gone. The shriel
i died on his white lips. His head sanl
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