It was a beautiful spring day in the little rural town of Braintree. Birds were singing in the trees, a fresh breeze was blowing, and a general feeling of peace pervaded the countryside. Owen Jacobs worked steadily in the small shed that served as his smithy. Being a blacksmith, he was not one to let a day go by without plying his trade, beautiful though the day might be. Today was no exception, yet he keenly felt the allure of the land about him, and the great calm that had settled upon the whole town.
Though the colonies were at war with England, Braintree was as yet untouched by its effects and unravaged by its horrors. But before long, feared Jacobs, war might even come to destroy the lovely, tranquil piece of countryside that was his home. He shuddered as he thought of his hometown being laid waste by the enemy. It must never happen, he resolved with calm determination. Jacobs was a man of strong ideals who seldom failed to keep a resolution.
As Jacobs pumped the bellows, he noticed a man coming down the road. The man was of medium height, portly, and dressed as one of great importance. He led a fine but slightly limping horse with one hand and grasped a newspaper with the other. Recognizing the man, the blacksmith hurried to greet him.
“Good day to you, Master Cartwright. It is a pleasure to see you”.
Samuel Cartwright took little notice of the warm greeting, merely nodding. Jacobs sought to draw him out.
“You are in good health, I trust?”
The man deigned to answer. “The very best, Mr. Jacobs.” His preoccupied manner warned his inquirer not to press him further. Assuming a business-like air, Jacobs asked after his client’s horse.
“He is need of new shoes, as he threw a few last week”, Cartwright replied in an indifferent tone.
Jacobs felt a momentary sense of injustice; that a horse should go a whole week without being shod! The man must not care for his beast at all, thought Jacobs indignantly. Yet, remembering his station, Jacob’s pride and common sense won over the inclination of his inner blacksmith.
“You do my humble smithy a great honor, Mr. Cartwright. Allow me to show you inside.”
Cartwright nodded and stepped into the smithy, respectfully followed by Jacobs. Due to the blacksmith’s modest income, it was small but equipped with every tool of the trade. Jacob’s pride in it was quite obvious as he bustled around in search of a more suitable chair for such a distinguished customer. Securing one, Cartwright sank into it contentedly, engrossed in his newspaper.
Jacobs set about making shoes for Cartwright’s horse.
For a while silence filled the smithy. Then the blacksmith, giving a cautious look at the seated man intently reading, decided to try his luck again.
“Interesting news, Mr. Cartwright?”
The man made an ironic chuckle. “It’s difficult not to find it so, Jacobs. Look at this”, and he thrust the paper at the blacksmith. Taking it, Jacobs read “FORT WASHINGTON TAKEN! YANKS DEFEATED!” He put the paper down.
“It certainly is interesting, Mr. Cartwright. But why should you think it comical?”
Cartwright looked at Jacobs quizzically. “Surely you find it absurd that American troops should pit themselves against British ones, Jacobs! They haven’t a chance of winning. Everyone knows it.”
The blacksmith was silent for a minute, not quite knowing what he should say. While he had no wish to offend his illustrious client, at the same time he felt compelled to defend his country. His nobler impulse won out.
“I’m sorry to say that I don’t share your views, Mr. Cartwright,” Jacobs said, quietly but firmly.
Cartwright blinked. “What was that?”
“I mean that I hold the American army to be fully capable of winning this war, and like every loyal American, I pledge my support to it.”
The politician was speechless. He was of the party that supported England’s side of the conflict, firmly believing that it was presumptuous and arrogant for America to rebel against the mother country. Being one who enjoyed every convenience in life, he regarded the war as a bother, especially in so far as it threatened to infringe upon his perfectly ordered life. Consequently, he found fault with Jacob’s firm stance on the controversial issue.
—-To Be Continued—-
Filed under: by Kate Murphy
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