Morris tribune., 1898-04-20

| that fatal error occurred and the army fed
Bessie Grey, whom one of the British Off
GERS described as "the fairest girl no had
ever looked upon," her lover and hen
brother fled from the disastrous battlefield
to their tragic fate And along the same
road they took, the lovely Lisburn road,
/ walked one day 100 years later. But nc
tramplod, trodden grass met my view, nc
shamrock stained with scarlet. All was
green and fair with heavens blue span.
ming 1t. And yet the road was just as fair
| a century ago when the bltle eyed Irish
| girl fled for her life,
Her brother and her lover were with her,
and close behind came the English con-
querors She heard the tramp of their
horses and their changing swords, and ter
ror lent wings to her feet. She bounded
over a hedge at the side Of the road up to
rocky spot where the cavalry could not
come and where she was concealed from
view. But her companions had not boon
% fleet of foot, and they were overtaken
by thoir pursuers. Painting and breath
hess in her place of conoealrnent, she heard
the death cry of her lover. Immediately
she ran back to the road and retraced her
footsteps. The unarmed man had been
struck in the neck by a sword and had
fallen lifeless at the feet of his slayer. The
brother for few moments with his bare
hands, parted the sword thrusts of the
soldier whowas endeavoring to strike him
down. His hands were wounded and
bleeding, and he could defend himself no
longer. AS the sword was poised to give
him the fatal blow there was wild cry,
"Spare my brother!' and white hand
and arm were interposed before the de-
scending blade. For an instant the SOL
der who held the sword paused and gazed
into the pleading eyes; then the blade fell,
and the fair hand of Bessie Grey was lying
on the green earth, and the red blood was
staining the shamrocks to a crimson hue.
But ere she had time to feel the pain of it
another soldier placed pistol against her
brow and sent bullet into her brain.
She fell on the sod by the side of the two
she loved and from whom her soul had
been parted but moment.
No stone marks the spot where Bessie
Grey sleeps, but it is known to all the
countryside, and on pleasant days the
youths and maidens wander along the
Lisburn road and tell the tragic story of
the grave in the vale of Ballycreen.
Shame on the cruel, ruthless band
Who hunted down to death their prey,
And palsy strike the murderous hand
That slew the lovely Bessie Grey.
The sword which the Irish heroine car
1ied on that eventful day is still in exist
ence. 1t had been a gift to her from her
lover. When fleeing from the battlefield
and from the pursuing soldiers, she hid
the sword in the thatched roof of cottage
she was passing, thinking when safety
was assured she would return for the
treasure. The farmer who owned the cot
tage found it, but in those times to &C
knowledge the possession of a weapon that
had belonged to one of the insurgents
might mean death to the owner, so he
concealed it. Forty-one years later two
peddlers travelling that way beguiled it
from the farmers wife with the gift of
bright shawl. The peddlers knew the
value of the sword and FASTENED on their
way to dispose of it to their employer, a
Mr.. Lindsay. Before they reached him,
however, they were overtaken by the an
cry farmer, who had learned of his wife's
weakness. and who Indignantly demanded
the return of the weapon But mans
vanity proved equal to the woman's, and
the farmer was silenced with pair of new
boots and couple of glasses of grog.
The peddlers then disposed Of it to Mr..
Lindsay, and it has remained in his family
tC the present day.