Activate Javascript or update your browser for the full Digital Library experience.
Previous Page
–
Next Page
OCR
|
~
~ burned it to thi
10
“THE SMITHL OF DUNRAN.
I.
‘ TRE SMITHY.
iw the pass of Dunran, in the county of Wick-
low, where everything grand and sombre
in nature conspire to form one ‘romantic
© of, resounding busily
with the dall rattling sough of the bellows
and the clear ringing clink of the hammer,
It was very early in the morning, and i
summer, when business had commenced in
that little homstead, and now, although the
day was nearly spent, still the work went
resolutely on—the bellows puffed and labored,
the hammer rang upon the anvil, the lurid
flames acknowledged the acceptable rites, and
if there was wicked work goi ii
smithy, it should be at once acceded that
5
there was no rest for the wicked. But let us.
take a look into the interior and see can we
honestly and conscientiously pray ‘‘ may God
bless the work and the workers.”
At the anvil stood a man_ low in stature,
but broad-shouldered as a Hercules; his body
was naked to the hips, and the well-developed
muscles stood out on his back, neck and arms
in bold relief—his hair was short, black and
curly, and bis face, althongh swarthy and
sooty, and wet with heat and labor, still had
a kind and almost sweet expression in it. of
which a woman might have been proud. Op-
posite to him was a female figure, tall mas-
enline aud broad-browed; long matted red
hair hung down upon and about her face and
neck, and although her features were regular
and handsome, yet they were so harshly de-
fined as to be disagreeable and deterring in
their general effect. The arms raised up to
drag the ponderous bellows were not sinew:
or wasted as one might expect from the height
of her person and the nature of her employ-
ment; on the contrary, they were plump,
round, and well-formed, and’ showed that
Maurtah Ruadh wes vot by any means full
of years, but a goodly young woman, and one
seemingly well suited for Myles Murtagh, the
amith of Dunran. Two children, a boy and
girl, sat together lovingly on the forge-block,
with their arms wound about each other and
their eyes glistening with delight as they
looked at their parents banging and blowing
away at the housefal of work around them.
The boy .was dark, like his father, and the
tiny girl had the golden hair and fair skin of
her tall and remarkable mother—they were
respectively perhaps some twelve or thirteen
years old. The floor of the smithy presented
@ very unusual appearance, for instead of the
usual display of agricultural implements,
horseshoes, plow-irons, hoes, harrows, hooks,
chains, wheels and waste iron, it was gar-
nished with a heterogeneous heap of guns,
muskets, spear heads, blunderbusses, pis-
tols, a few bent bayonets and rolis and
sheets of dull gray lead, a sort of metal very
suggestive of various shades of utility without
the help of a pair of clean bullet molds, which
lay wide open beside them.
reader, the smith of Damran was armorer to
Captain Michael Dwyer and his men, and, ac, .
cording to the repeated asseverations of that
very active officer, worth a whole brigade in
himself, for he worked and fought, and coun-
seled, with as good a grace and as marked an
effect as even the great captain, his master.
Indeed, in Dwyor’s absence, Myles was always
looked up to as the man of the men, for he
was fertile in expedient, daring and prompt in
hough the yeomen watched the
little forge night and day, and would have
But, for the one day the
smith of Dunran patronized his own premises
he appeared to be absent for a month; or,
rather the yeos could ever hit upon the hap-
py hour for making an easy capture. 8
the repute, too, of being a bad husband, and
of leaving his wife and children either to com-
mon vagraucy of the charity of their neigh-
bors! but bless your soul it was quite the op-
posite, except in outer semblance, for Mauriah
loved her-husband as much as lady ever loved
her true knight, and her apparent vagrancy
was ever in the capacity of aidede camp on
his affairs and those of the general cause of
“the oountry—and as to the children—they
‘were two plump little kids, whose lives were
one scene of variety, excitement, love and lo-
comotion.. Never was a larder better filled
than theirs, with fish, and flesh, and wild fowl
and everything handy that the mountains
could supply within their father’s reach, or
the generosity of the sympathizing farmer
classes could convey tothem. In fact, when
father and mother were both required in their
country’s service, as in Dwyer’s case, the little
Myles, and Maureen were billeted upon the
neighbors, without the least hesitation, and
right happy seemed the family who had secur-
ed the interesting little prattlers within their
hospitable doors—they were s0 merry,
loveable, and so ready and willing to fratern-
ize with all other tiny younglings of all kinds
and descriptions—they were the children of
cosmopolitan parenta, and had drank in a long
draught of Celtic frankness and humor from
their father's eyes and their mothers’s breasts
but 9 smart tap atthe smithy door puts a stop
to ourdiscursive descriptions—''tap, tap, tap
» shining eyes, that appeared out of the bronze
REDPATIVS ILLUSTRATED WEEKLY.
—tap, tap, tap,” twice repeated, and hurriedly
and then a crow, like a cock, a ‘‘ quack,” like
a duck, anda terrible bluster, and gobble,
gobble, as if of a large turkey cock.
‘Danny Brien! Danny Brien !” cried out .
the two children with one voice, as they sprang
from the forge-block and ran directly to the
’** Siz,” repeated Mauriah, ‘but trumps
every one?” .
“ We can do it,” concluded Myles.
“You can do what you like!” said his wife,
proudly, .
“So you think, at least, Mauriah,” respond.
ed the smith, is
loor. “And I am a judge of it,” retorted the reso-
‘The smith flung away his huge sledge into lute wife. oe. . |
the corner, and his wife let free the ban ft ‘Trial makes mention,”. said the smith,
the great bellows, and folded her arms over looking kindly at the brave spokeswoman.
her breast. ‘*Danny,” he continued, you have your les-
‘Something in the wind, Myles,” she ob- son now, and take care you rehearse it care-
served with a shake of her head. oy try,” suid Danny drily
“Yes, gi ” a ry,” said .
svariny Bi pe dome ty een de wat the Danny Brien jumped up to go away; but
moving one great, strong bar of iron, adu.itt. before he reached the door, be Tanaged to
ed the evening visitor. The children danced Promise a present of a goshaw! to ue Myles,
with delight—the new comer tumbled overthe wu 2: ne Pedic to ine pre 'y taoles of
guns and pistola—there was therefore the delight. ‘e two poor c! ‘en in ecstacies o:
more fun and jollity, which the smith and his fre as et, a shes
wife countenaiced, after some such fashion os 4). ‘ ret him go!” cried the smith—"‘ he is on
a lion and lioness would contemplatively ob- *h® King’s service. ‘
serve the frotics of their cubs disporting them-
selves at the mouth of their cavern.
It.
ON THE KING'S SERVICE, :
Scarcely had Danny Brien left the smithy,
_ IL: when Myles Murtogh, having packed all his
THE COURIER, military paraphernalia into a large sack, pre-
Like two flakes of snow the smith of Dunran pared precipitately to follow.
landed his little children back on the forge- The children kissed him and hugged him,
block, whilst Mauriah closed up at their back, and told him to come back soon to them, and .
and Danny Brien took a place in the midat. Mauriah pressed him for a moment to her
Danny appeared to be about sixteen years of _ heart, and whispered— .
age ; low for his years, half skin, half bones, “Myles, my man, take care of yourself;
tanned, freckled, cow-licked, bare-footed, hard- we have nobody else and want nobody else.”
featured, but with a pair of round, large, blue The swith of Dunran returned the whisper
ii into her private ear, and her eye brightened
and her breast heaved, but she merely said:
“Good fellow! God bless you! come back
dusky frame, which was busy peeping out soon to the children,”
through his orbits. His teeth were large and So, hoisting the sack of arms on his back,
as white as snow, and hisshort garments were he stepped out of the smithy. As soon as he
all corduroy, coped witha cap of the most ex- was fairly free of the forge and out on the
ceptionable leather, The group is worth con-- main road he thrust his double finger in his
templating, as they stood together on a fading. mouth and sent forth one long, shrill whistle
summer evening by the dying embers of the that must have reached the Devil’s Glen.
smithy fire; the tall, red-haired woman, the After a moment the whistle. came back
half-naked man, the two little children, and gain, like an echo, and after a few minutes
the sun-baked boy. The instruments of war- more he was joined by two men, who came
fare scattered about in all directions, and the .from two different points of the compass.
appearence of stern composure of the adults, They were the guards placed, the one at the
as they cooly addressed themselves to a hear- mouth and the other at the opposite end of
ing of a fresh announcement—in times, when. the woody and rocky pass. In the meantime
every day brought about something more and Danny was on the road, and going, too, at a
more startling, and particularly to the party pace which promised to bring him to the end
there. assembled, whose lives were ever one of his journey in less than no time; in fact,
alarm, preparation and defence. Salvator the urchin had taken the liberty of borrowing
Rosa might have designed to adopt the scene, a horse out of the next paddock, and throw-
and any-Irish peasant would have recogniz- ing a halter over his head, which he had car-
ed it as a genuine brown, boskied nut, whose _ ried from the forge for the purpose, was gal-
kernal denoted nothing less than Freevom, loping away on the bareback animal at race-
“Three of the boys are taken,” brcke out horse speed, to the wonder of the urged beast,
Danny Brien. *t They are in the long bar- and his own peculiar and marked gratifica-
and brown and tan and tawneyness, asif there
was another sweet intelligent biped with his
racks at Enniskerry, and are to be brought , tion. .
into Dublin at midnight, oe .
“Who took them ?” asked the smith quietly,
“The yeos.”
“Is it three of Dwyer’s men taken by the
yeos ?” .
“Aye; they were drunk in Whelan’s public
house, and somebody turned stag.”
“Devil stag them; can they never keep
sober, and not to be bringing disgrace and
trouble on the whole of us. What did Dwyer
Bay?”
“He's gone to meet the general in the
glen, and he only left six of the men behind
hin.” * ‘ ‘
“Bad enough,” observed Mauriah, “for I
dare say the boys are well guarded.”
“El anny,” said the smith ; “how many
yeos are about them ?”
““Yeos! och, if it was only the yeos I
wouldn’t trouble immost, for I'd set fire to them
myself ; but they brought in the Highlanders
to help them, and they are men and no mis.
‘By Gor! they are, Danny, my boy, and
fair enemies, too. But. how many might be
in it? can you tell me?”
“Twenty Highlanders and a sergeant, and
twenty mounted yeomen with long swords
and big helmets, who are to carry the boys
to Dublin, and their horses picketed in the
paddoek, at tne back of their new barracks,”
‘* That looks bad again,” muttered Mauriah
to herself ; but the smith was silent for a few
moments,
‘*We must separate the grain from the chaff,
if we can,” said he, musingly. ‘Danny, can
you think of anything?” -
“Mo!” repeated Danny, gollantly—“ not I; ©
ask Mauriah.”
“Pat them on the scent of the ‘Smith of
Dunran,’” said Maurieh proudly, “and youll
tarn them off every other game.”
“*Kiss your mother for me, children,” ex-
claimed Myles; *‘for she is bully at a pinch,
although I get all the credit.” ”
The children jumped up, and sprang about
their mother’s neck; and Danny Brien cried,
“ Bravo, Mauriah!”
“Vil do it,” said the smith sententionsly.
‘Let us see what is the best way of going
about it.”
A council of war was held in the smithy of
Dunran—the smith in the chair; Danny on
the block, with children; and Mauriah, after
tightening up her htir behind her ears, with
flushed face, and dilated figuce, looking young
and handsome and dangerous; and the smith,
after donning his jerkin and lighting his pipe,
listened to all the arguments, advices, projects
and suggestions. ~ =~ =~ ~
“Only six men at home, Danny,” mused
Myles Mortogh, le wh rd
_ When he reached the village of Enniskerry
@ rode at once to vhe temporary barracks,
and after prancing up to the door in the most
ostentatious and noisy manner possible, called
out for Sergeant Close.
The sergeant appeared to the summons in
is long red cloak and hborse-haired brass
helmet, and looking at the juvenile and un-
military rider, asked him with an oath more
remarkable for verbosity than reason—and
for profanation than either—what he meant.
by challenging a whole barrack in go uncere.
monijous a manner,
~ Danny (always abrupt in his manner) eager-
ly said:
» **You promised me a hog and a tester, over
and over, if I put you, on the safe track of
6 smith of Dunran.”
“T did, and do,” replied the sergeant.
“Very well,” said Danny, alighting from
his_courser and sending him, less his collar,
ift to his own resources. .
“The smith’s now at the forge, puffing and
battering away at Michael Dwyer’s guns and
pistols. ellows was blowing and the
hammers ringing when I left the place to come *
to you. Sore you a man to your word, and
will you give me the hog and the tester?”
“‘Are you telling me the truth?” asked the
yeoman suspiciously. © .
‘‘No! I’m not!” was the indignant reply.
**Good-night !” :
“Stop!” cried the sergeant; have you no
more to say?” :
“‘T say,” retorted Danny emphatically, ‘‘ I
left the smith in the forge of Dunran, and his
/wife and his children, and I saw the forge.
fire blazing and heard the hammers going,
and if you don’t believe me, come back this
instant with me and I'll give you the sight of
your eyes for all that I am saying to you,”
‘Come in Danny,” said the sergeant, quite
molified. ‘Come, and maybe we might
manage to get you a bit of supper.” ~
anny went in, and was soon in high chat
with the Highlanders and yeomen, for, as
before stated, on Danny’s own authority,
ere were twenty men of either class sta-
tioned at the Doniskerry Barracks. A coun-
cil of war was held in this instance, too, 2s
well as the council held in the forge of Dun-
ran, Sergeant Close in the chair, the result
of which was that the three prisoners who
sat lugubriously enough on a Jong form ut
the end of the room, handcuffed, were not to
start for Dublin to be hanged as soon as was
intended, but were to remain in durance vile
for the honor of having the smith of Dunran
as the companion of their journey to the
metropolis, It was farther decided that the
Highlanders, being the party best calculated
to unearth Myles: Murtagh and to pursue
‘ asa
_and leaving their own
him, if necessary, through the woods and
crags of Wicklow, should forthwith proceed
with as much despatch as possible to the pass
of Dunran and bring back with them the body
of the celebrated smith of that locality, either
dead or alive, no matter which, Indeed, the
delicately-minded yeomen looked upon the
capture of a rebel in some such light as
one would the catching of a rat; if a snap-
trap caught him and mangled him, why it
would do, and if lured into a live trap and
preserved for torture, why it was equally
agreeable—‘‘dead or altve,” then, was the
ukase for the smith of Dunran
The Highlanders started on their mission
as the night fell, so we will leave them on the
road and follow the events which rapidly
transpired during the interval of their ab-
Iv. j
A CATASTROPHE, 1
Tt: was midnight, when a very: decided
knock was heard at the barrack door, : The
yeomen were in bed, except some half-dozen
or so who, with the sergeant, lay stretched on
benches, constituting the guard of the night.
‘Danny !” called out Sergeant Close, |‘ get
up, boy, and ask who goes there.”
Danny sprang up from his cosy corner and
went to the door.
“The sentry, sergeant.”
“What does he want?” drawled out the
sleepy yeoman, \
“There's lightning, he says, and the horses
are frightened and trying to break loose—he
says he wants help quick.”
‘Guard, turn out,” cried the sergeant.
‘* That will never do, Danny; we can’t afford
to lose our nags.”
‘The guard turned out without delay, in the
face of the emergency, and Danny . turned
out too. The door was opened, and ag the
yeomen hurried around the corner of the
building, the smith of Dunran suddenly made
his appearance, attended by his’ six despera-
does, all armed to the teeth,
“The carbines are piled to the right, under
the window, the pistols are heaped on the
table, same side,” whispered Danny, ‘‘and
the yeos are in bed, Myles, darling. 'I ‘must
go after the guard, to escape suspicion.”
hance favored the smith of Dunran, for
as he was hovering about the barracks, seck-
ing for a place to force an entrance and take
the yeomen by surprise, as he could not
work of a moment to dash now in through
6 Operation, and after frightening the yeo-
men with all sorts of terrible threats, to form
again into a compact body, carrying with
them all the captured pistols and carbines,
a . in their stead, and,
with the smith at their head; open the door
once more, charge forward boldly in search
of the nd so make a glorious and
successful end of one of the completest sur-
prises that occurred during the whole disas-
trous year of 1798. ‘
‘ut the guard were nowhere to be found,
for, hear: ng the seufile in the barrack room,
mon enemy,
——.
AN ORIENTAL POEM.
(Translated from “ Jaimini.")
Eternal as the Soul is Sound 3 :
\ Nor time nor space‘its life can bound :
Once spoken, Words can never die—
They echo through Eternity. .
‘ames REDPATH.
TOO LATE. :
The train departs at half. i
‘The traveler Tune apeg lent,
He yet may reach the station gate ;
It closes in his fac ' ,
He sces the train slide down the track.
He curses at his fate. .
And mutters as he wanders back :
¢'s left who comes too late |”
At six the dinner’s smoking hot.
The wine foams in the glasa, ”
A maiden holds a heart in thrall
ale cherishes a ,
nd sighs to gain her, that is all;
He does not tell his’ levee ts
Her wedding cards—thon let hi
"Ym left, who came toolten wal