made of the reception, by the suffering volunteers, of a
seasonable supply of clothes that had been made up and sent to
the army by the patriotic ladies of Kentucky. I have, since the
commencement of this publication, met with an article that
appeared in the Frankfort Commonwealth (when that paper was under
the editorial direction of Orlando Brown, Esq.) entitled
"Kentucky Mothers," in which allusion is made to the same
transaction. I have thought it not irrelevant to append it to
this, as it shows, in a striking manner, the deep devotion to
country felt by the ladies of Kentucky, and the extent of the
sacrifices they were prepared to make. Although Mr. Brown did not
give the name of this noble mother, I have his permission to
state that the lady alluded to is the venerable Mrs. Elizabeth
Love, who yet resides in Frankfort, beloved by all for her
eminent worth, and characterized by high intellectual endowments
associated with fervent piety, unaffected charity, and every
trait that dignifies and adorns the female sex.
KENTUCKY MOTHERS.
"The deep interest which passing events are giving to the history
of the campaigns of the North-Western Army, naturally sets the
memory to work in recalling the incidents that gave them their
peculiar character. The achievments of the volunteers under the
gallant Harrison, are written in the brightest pages of the
records of their country, and must live so long as the human
heart thrills at the contemplation of deeds of lofty heroism. But
Kentucky does not point solely to her brave soldiers, and
challenge admiration for them. Far, far from it; for to the noble
mothers and daughters of our State belongs a chaplet of unfading
laurels. _They_ espoused the cause of their country with an
ardour never surpassed in any land under the sun. Company after
company, batallion after batallion, left the State for the scene
of war, and although the bloodiest battles were fought, and men
came home with thinned ranks and wearied frames, and the wail of
the widow and the orphan was loud in the lament for the slain,
the fire of patriotism burnt the brighter, and the women of
Kentucky, never faltering, still urged on the men to battle.
Although we were at that time but a very small boy, well do we
remember all that passed under our observation at that stirring
period. We remember the letters that were received from the
volunteers describing their sufferings from cold and hunger and
nakedness, and we remember, too, how the ladies united together
for the purpose of sending clothing to the suffering soldiery.
They formed themselves into sewing societies, made hunting
shirts, knit socks, purchased blankets and fitted up all kinds of
garments that could add to the comfort of the troops. The ladies
of the town of Frankfort, alone, sent two wagon loads of clothing
to the frontier, which arrived most timely, and warmed alike the
hearts and bodies of the volunteers, for they reminded them that
such wives and mothers and sisters deserved to be defended at
every possible hazard.
A Spartan mother is said, on presenting a shield to her son, to
have told him "to return, _with it or upon it_." It is recorded
of another, that when her son complained of the shortness of his
sword, she bade him "take one step nearer his enemy and he would
find it long enough." And for such sayings as these, the Spartan
women have ever since been renowned in history. We remember an
incident that occurred in our own presence during the last war,
that proves that a Kentucky mother was fully equal in courage and
love of country to any of those whose fame has survived for so
many ages. We beg leave to relate it, and will do so in as few
words as possible.
Soon after the battle of the river Raisin, where the Captain of
the Frankfort company (Pascal Hickman,) had been barbarously
massacred in the officers' house after the surrender, Lieutenant
Peter Dudley returned to Frankfort for the purpose of raising
another company. The preceding and recent events of the campaigns
had demonstrated to all that war was, in reality, a trade of
blood, and the badges of mourning, worn by male and female,
evidenced that _here_ its most dire calamity had been felt. He
who would _volunteer_ now, knew that he embarked in a hazardous
enterprise. On the occasion alluded to, there was a public
gathering of the people. The young Lieutenant, with a drummer and
fifer, commenced his march through the crowd, proclaiming his
purpose of raising another company, and requesting all who were
willing to go with him, to fall in the ranks. In a few moments he
was at the head of a respectable number of young men; and, as he
marched around, others were continually dropping in. There was,
in the crowd of spectators, a lad of fifteen years of age; a pale
stripling of a boy, the son of a widow, whose dwelling was hard
by the parade ground. He had looked on with a burning heart, and
filled with the passion of patriotism, until he could refrain no
longer, and, as the volunteers passed again, he leaped into the
ranks with the resolve to be a soldier. "You are a brave boy,"
exclaimed the Captain, "and I will take care of you;" and a
feeling of admiration ran through the crowd.
In a little time, the news was borne to the widow, that her son
was marching with the volunteers. It struck a chill into her
heart, for he was her oldest son. In a few moments she came in
breathless haste, and with streaming eyes, to the father of the
editor of this paper, who was her nearest neighbor, and long
tried friend. "Mr. Brown," said she, "James has joined the
volunteers! the foolish boy does not know what he is about. I
want you to make haste and get him out of the ranks. He is too
young--he is weak and sickly. Mr. Brown, he will die on the
march. If he does not die on the march he will be killed by the
enemy, for he is too small to take care of himself. If he escapes
the enemy he will die of the fever. Oh, my friend, go and take
him away." After a few moments, she commenced again--"I do not
know what has got into the boy--I cannot conceive why he wants to
go to the army--he could do nothing, he is able to do nothing."
Again she paused; and at last rising from her seat, with her eyes
flashing fire, she exclaimed--"BUT I WOULD DESPISE HIM, IF HE DID
NOT WANT TO GO!" That noble thought changed the current of her
reflections, and of her grief--she went home, prepared with her
own hands the plain uniform of that day for her son, and sent him
forth with a mother's blessing. The lad went on with the troops,
bore all the toils of the march, was in the battle at Fort Meigs,
and fought as bravely and efficiently as the boldest man in the
company. The widow's son again came home in safety. Her
patriotism has not been unrewarded. On yesterday I saw that son
bending over the sick bed of the aged mother. He is the only
surviving child of a numerous family, and has been spared as the
stay and prop of her declining years.
Is it any wonder that the Kentuckians are brave and chivalric?
Were they otherwise, they would be recreant to the land of their
birth, and a reproach to their mothers' milk."
_Erratum_.--For _Captain Watson_, read _Captain Matson_, wherever
it occurs.