MARY LINDLEY MURRAY
1720-1782
Except for one day’s events the story of Mrs. Murray is quickly told.
A famous Quaker belle in Philadelphia was the beautiful Mary Lindley.
After her marriage to Robert Murray, a merchant, she lived near
Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and in North Carolina, until in 1753 they
moved to New York City, where Murray and Sansom soon became one of the
great merchandising firms of the time. There were a dozen children in
the Murray household, one son being Lindley Murray, the grammarian.
Hoping the milder climate would benefit her husband’s health, Mrs.
Murray took her family to England where they lived for eleven years,
returning to America during the first year of the Revolution.
Always a belle, she is described as a lady of great dignity and
stateliness of manner, mild and amiable, quick at repartee. She and
her daughters were ardent patriots, but Mr. Murray, the rich merchant
and landowner, was not unnaturally a Tory, loyal to the Crown. Shortly
before peace was made with England, after the success at Yorktown had
crowned Washington’s efforts for America, Mrs. Murray died.
But on the fifteenth of September, 1776, Mary Lindley Murray gave aid
to Washington, her contribution to the War for Independence being
woman’s wit and beauty. That September was a difficult month for the
patriots. At the end of August had come the British victory at the
battle of Long Island, and Washington’s skilful retreat to Manhattan.
As usual Howe was dilatory in following and not until sixteen days
later did he cross with his troops.
The fifteenth of September was a hot day. From their country house on
a hill near the center of Manhattan Island the Murrays looked down on
the new breastworks thrown up at Kip’s Bay. They knew the Americans
were scattered--the main force at the north on Harlem Heights, and
Putnam’s men far to the south. Then up the East River sailed five
British men-of-war and anchored opposite the Murray house, in the bay.
Before the handful of militiamen had time to wonder why the ships had
come, out swarmed a number of dories. To the Murrays, watching from
the hill half a mile away, the river seemed suddenly dyed scarlet, for
under cover of the warships’ guns eighty-four boats landed the British
soldiers, while up the bank clambered four thousand Redcoats, driving
the Americans before them. At the first fire, the Continentals fled
from their trenches back to higher ground, fled in head-long retreat.
Four miles to the north Washington heard the booming of cannon
and galloped down to the scene of action. To his astonishment and
consternation his men were flying in all directions. Riding excitedly
into the midst of the runaways he shouted, “Take to the wall! Take to
the cornfield!” His attempt to rally them was vain. Chagrined he would
have ridden straight into danger, had not an aide seized his horse’s
bridle and turned the general back toward safety. In great confusion
and disorder the post at the bay was deserted. And there were Putnam’s
divisions to the south, separated from the main army, caught in a trap
if the British threw their men across the island.
Now this was exactly General Howe’s plan, but he failed to count Mrs.
Murray into his scheme. From the bay he marched west for a half-mile
until he came to the Murray house. Set in a wide lawn, with extensive
gardens on either side, “Belmont” was considered one of the loveliest
spots on the island. Its fair mistress had heard the firing, had seen
the disorderly retreat and realized what the Americans needed most of
all was time. She would make it for them!
She posted a maid in the cupola of the great square mansion, with
orders to report to her by signals how Putnam was progressing. It was
a season of extreme drought, and the dense clouds of dust made it
easy to follow his march. At the proper time Mrs. Murray sent a negro
servant with a cordial invitation to General Howe and his staff to dine
with her. This genial Quaker lady was not unknown to the Britishers,
for they had met her in England. Here was an opportunity to renew the
acquaintance of peaceful days, but duty first, for a general.
“I do thank you, madam,” was Howe’s courteous reply, “but I must first
catch that rascally Yankee, Putnam.”
“Did thee not hear he had gone?” was her quick rejoinder. “It is too
late to catch him. Pursuit is hopeless. Thee had better come in and
dine.”
If Putnam was really out of reach there was no need for haste, and
the day was sweltering. So across the broad veranda and into the cool
attractive house went Howe, with Clinton and Cornwallis and Governor
Tryon, and others of his staff. Outside, in the hot September sun, his
men rested and prepared and ate their midday meal. Within, Mrs. Murray
and her beautiful daughters proved charming hostesses, with a warm
welcome for their English guests. The good merchant, who was known to
be heartily loyal to the king, was not at home that day, but his rare
old Madeira was served with dainty cakes after the dinner.
So witty and delightful was the talk, so keenly did the others enjoy
Tryon’s raillery of their hostess about her patriot friends and how
the ragged Continentals had run that morning, that not one of them
noticed the rapid flight of time. And you may be sure that Mistress
Murray prolonged their stay, bearing the teasing with rare good humor
and making herself thoroughly agreeable, for every moment gained would
count.
Meanwhile, half a mile to the west, Putnam was hurrying northward,
his march greatly hampered by his cannon, his camp impedimenta, and
the refugee women and children. Terribly they suffered from the heat.
Alexander Hamilton gallantly led one company. A young major, Aaron
Burr, acted as guide, for he knew every foot of the ground; riding
back and forth he showed the patriots bypaths and lanes through the
thickets, until ahead they saw Washington’s tents on the heights of
Harlem, and knew they were safe. Through Mrs. Murray’s hospitality the
British had lost their chance to take four thousand prisoners. Her own
wit and her husband’s wine had saved the day.
Behind the Harlem entrenchments the patriots were ready for Howe’s
attack the following morning, and a spirited encounter that was in
the buckwheat field. But the British failed to capture the heights
and so force Washington off the island. Counted only by the number of
men engaged, this was really not a great battle, but it was a great
victory for the Americans who had lost heart after their defeat on
Long Island and their forced evacuation of New York. It restored their
confidence and put new hope into their hearts. It clinched Washington’s
determination and made possible the brilliant exploits at Trenton and
Princeton.
In Revolutionary journals kept by American and British soldiers you
will find Howe’s delay at the Murray home given as the reason for
Putnam’s escape. And it was a common saying among the Americans that
the beautiful Quaker lady had saved “Old Put,” the wolf-killer, and his
four thousand men. For patriotism and courage do not exist only behind
a bayonet. One can be heroic in any way that conquers circumstances.