Dover, to Dr. Cotton Mather, "she soon after safely arrived at Captain
Gerish's garrison, where she found a refuge from the storm. Here she
also had the satisfaction to understand that her own garrison, though
one of the first that was assaulted, had been bravely defended and
successfully maintained against the enemy. This gentlewoman's garrison
was on the most extreme frontier of the province, and more obnoxious
than any other, and therefore incapable of being relieved. Nevertheless,
by her presence and courage it held out all the war, even for ten years
together; and the persons in it have enjoyed very eminent preservations.
It would have been deserted if she had accepted offers that were made
her by her friends to abandon it and retire to Portsmouth among them,
which would have been a damage to the town and land."
THE LADIES OF PHILADELPHIA IN 1780.
I have not shut mine ears to their demands,
Nor posted off their suits with slow delays.
SHAKSPEARE.
During the long war which resulted in the Independence of the American
Colonies, the women all over the land were warmly interested in the
condition of the soldiers, and prompt to relieve their wants when
suffering. There was, at times, a sad deficiency of wearing apparel; and
many are the instances in which a noble sacrifice of ease and a liberal
expenditure of time and strength, were made by the ladies that this
comfort might be restored to the self-sacrificing soldiers.
In 1780, the ladies of Philadelphia city and county, learning that the
soldiers were in great need of clothing, sold their jewelry and
converted _other_ trinkets into something more serviceable; collected by
solicitation large sums of money; purchased the raw material, plied the
needle "with all diligence;" and in a short time the aggregate amount of
their contributions was $7,500.[10]
[10] This sum was raised in and immediately around Philadelphia. The
efforts of the ladies were not, however, limited to their own
neighborhood. They addressed circulars to the adjoining counties and
states, and the response of New Jersey and Maryland was truly generous.
The number of shirts made by the ladies of Philadelphia during that
patriotic movement, was twenty-two hundred! These were cut out at the
house of Mrs. Sarah Bache, daughter of Dr. Franklin. This lady writing
to a Mrs. Meredith, of Trenton, New Jersey, at that time, says, "I am
happy to have it in my power to tell you that the sums given by the good
women of Philadelphia for the benefit of the army, have been much
greater than could be expected, and given with so much cheerfulness and
so many blessings, that it was rather a pleasing than a painful task to
call for them. I write to claim you as a Philadelphian, and shall think
myself honored in your donation."
THE WIFE OF PRESIDENT REED.[11]
Mightier far
Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway
Of magic potent over sun and star,
Is love, though oft to agony distrest,
And though his favorite seat be feeble woman's breast.
WORDSWORTH.
Undaunted by the tempest, wild and chill,
That pours its restless and disastrous roll,
O'er all that blooms below.
SANDS' YAMOYDEN.
Prominent among the ladies of Philadelphia who, in the summer and fall
of 1780, were active in assisting the sufferers in the American army,
was Esther Reed, the wife of President Reed. She stood at the head of
the Association till her death, which occurred on the eighteenth of
September of that year. She was succeeded by Mrs. Sarah Bache, Mrs.
Francis, Mrs. Clarkson, Mrs. Blair and Mrs. Hillegas, who were
constituted an Executive Committee.
[11] The facts embodied in this notice of Mrs. Reed, are mainly obtained
from the Life and Correspondence of President Reed. _Vide_ volume II.,
chapter XII.
The maiden name of Mrs. Reed was De Berdt. She was born in London on the
twenty-second of October, 1746. There, about the year 1763, she became
acquainted with Mr. Joseph Reed, of New Jersey, then a student at the
Temple. She had fond parents and lived in affluence, but from these she
at length turned, and, being married in May, 1770, "followed the lover
of her youth to these wild Colonies." Philadelphia became the home of
the happy couple. The wife of an American, she imbibed the sentiments
and manifested the spirit of an American, and to the day of her death
showed herself worthy to be the wife of an American soldier. "During
five years of war, more than half the time her family was broken up, and
for a long period the young wife, with her little children and an aged
mother, was driven to seek a distant and precarious refuge." Her husband
was an Adjutant-General, and was in the camp much of the time, till he
was chosen President--or, as we now say, Governor--of Pennsylvania, in
1778. Her letters written to him, breathe a patriotic and submissive
spirit, and a cheerful trust in that "presiding Power" from whom all
solace is derived in seasons of danger, disappointment and affliction.
She was placed at the head of the voluntary association of Philadelphia
ladies at its formation in May, and as early as the twentieth of the
following month, it will be seen, by an extract from a letter written by
Mr. Reed to General Washington, the business of the society was
progressing admirably: "The ladies have caught the happy contagion, and
in a few days Mrs. Reed will have the honor of writing to you on the
subject. It is expected she will have a sum equal to L100,000, to be
laid out according to your Excellency's direction, in such a way as may
be thought most honorable and gratifying to the brave old soldiers who
have borne so great a share of the burden of this war. I thought it best
to mention it in this way to your Excellency for your consideration, as
it may tend to forward the benevolent scheme of the donors with
dispatch. I must observe that the ladies have excepted such articles of
necessity, as clothing, which the states are bound to provide."
The following letter, written the next month, explains itself:
"ESTHER REED TO WASHINGTON.
"Philadelphia, July 4th, 1780.
"SIR,--The subscription set on foot by the ladies of this city for the
use of the soldiery, is so far completed as to induce me to transmit to
your Excellency an account of the money I have received, and which,
although it has answered our expectations, does not equal our wishes,
but I am persuaded will be received as a proof of our zeal for the great
cause of America, and our esteem and gratitude for those who so bravely
defend it.
"The amount of the subscription is 200,580 dollars, and L625 6_s._ 8_d._
in specie, which makes in the whole, in paper money, 300,634 dollars.
"The ladies are anxious for the soldiers to receive the benefit of it,
and wait your directions how it can best be disposed of. We expect some
considerable addition from the country, and have also wrote to the other
States in hopes the ladies there will adopt similar plans, to render it
more general and beneficial.
"With the utmost pleasure I offer any further attention and care in my
power to complete the execution of the design, and shall be happy to
accomplish it agreeable to the intention of the donors and your wishes
on the subject.
"The ladies of my family join me in their respectful compliments and
sincerest prayer for your health, safety, and success.
"I have the honor to be,
"With the highest respect,
"Your obedient humble servant,
"E. REED."
During the months of July and August, though in feeble health, Mrs. Reed
held frequent correspondence with General Washington on the best mode of
administering relief to the destitute soldiers. Her desire to make
herself useful may be inferred from the tone of a letter addressed to
her husband from the banks of the Schuylkill, on the twenty-second of
August. Among other things, she says, "I received this morning a letter
from the General, and he still continues his opinion that the money in
my hands should be laid out in linen; he says, no supplies he has at
present or has a prospect of are any way adequate to the wants of the
army. His letter is, I think, a little formal, as if he was hurt by our
asking his opinion a second time, and our not following his directions,
after desiring him to give them. The letter is very complaisant, and I
shall now endeavor to get the shirts made as soon as possible. _This is
another circumstance to urge my return to town, as I can do little
towards it here._"
The responsible and onerous duties of Mrs. Reed during the summer of
1780, were no doubt injurious to her already poor health, and hastened
the approach of death. Early in September she was laid upon a bed of
fatal illness, and before the month had closed, as before mentioned, she
was in the "mysterious realm." The Council and Assembly adjourned to pay
their last respect to her exalted virtues. Her remains were deposited in
the Presbyterian burying-ground in Arch Street, and the following
epitaph was inscribed on her tomb:
"In memory of ESTHER, the beloved wife of Joseph Reed,
President of this State, who departed this life
On the 18th of September, A. D. 1780, aged 34 years.
Reader! If the possession of those virtues of the heart
Which make life valuable, or those personal endowments which
Command esteem and love, may claim respectful and affectionate
Remembrance, venerate the ashes here entombed.
If to have the cup of temporal blessings dashed
In the period and station of life in which temporal blessings
May be best enjoyed, demands our sorrow, drop a tear, and
Think how slender is that thread on which the joys
And hopes of life depend."
COMPLETION OF BUNKER HILL MONUMENT.
The tardy pile, slow rising there,
With tongueless eloquence shall tell
Of them who for their country fell.
SPRAGUE.
Ladies, you deserve
To have a temple built _you_.
SHAKSPEARE.
The Bunker Hill Monument Association was incorporated in June, 1823.
Nothing further was done that year. At the second annual meeting, which
was held on the seventeenth of June, efficient plans were devised to
carry forward the enterprise; and at the end of another year, just half
a century after the battle, the corner stone was laid. General Lafayette
was then on a visit to the United States, and was appropriately chosen
to take a leading part in this interesting ceremony. The monument did
not get fairly under way till the spring of 1827. This apparent
tardiness was owing to the circumstance that the material was to be
brought from a granite quarry in Quincy, and a rail road--the first in
the United States--had to be built from the quarry to the wharf in
Quincy to convey the stone.
In 1828, the funds were exhausted, and the work was not resumed till
1834. Within a year the work was again suspended for the same cause.
Nothing further was done, and but little said, till 1839, when it was
announced that two gentlemen--Amos Lawrence, Esq., of Boston, and Judah
Truro, Esq., of New Orleans--would give ten thousand each, provided a
sum sufficient to complete the monument could be raised. This liberal
offer caused some momentary stimulation; but no proposal immediately
made was deemed expedient.
The affairs of the Association now wore, as they had done once or twice
before, a gloomy aspect. In the annual report, made on the seventeenth
of June, 1840, doubts were expressed whether the present generation
would see the monument completed. The same discouraging remark was made
soon after, in one of the sewing circles of Boston, when, instead of
depressing the spirits, it raised the ambition and quickened the
thoughts of the ladies, and several of them proposed to get up a Fair.
It was a happy suggestion; was forthwith sanctioned by the board of
directors; prompted the issuing of a circular by a sub-committee of the
same; raised the stentorian voice of a free and patriotic press, and met
with immediate favor all over the land.
The ladies had moved in the matter--_had taken the work into their own
hands_--and all doubts in regard to its speedy completion seemed to
vanish. The Fair was announced to be held in Quincy Hall, Boston, to
commence on the fifth of September, 1840 Every female in the land was
invited to contribute some article of her own hands' production, to the
exhibition. The patriotic spirit of the _mothers_ of the Revolution was
now warm in the hearts of their _daughters_, and ten thousand hands,
engaged in the work of preparation, were "plying the needle with
exquisite art."
The ladies were to have the complete management of the Fair; and, all
things in readiness, it commenced. The product of so much industry and
ingenuity, dispensed at the hands of the ladies, presented a scene to
the thousands who gathered around the numerous well-stored tables, that
is described by a writer--doubtless an eye-witness--as "brilliant and
inspiring."[12]
[12] Frothingham's Siege of Boston.
The Fair continued till the fifteenth of the month. Its success was
chronicled from day to day in a journal called "The Monument," printed
in the Hall. It was the grandest movement of the kind ever made in the
country; was conducted throughout in the most admirable manner, and
wound up in triumph. Its net proceeds were $30,035 50. To this sum and
the $20,000 pledged by the two gentlemen before mentioned, was soon
added enough, from other sources, to make the fund $55,153 27; and the
work went on to its completion.[13] Thus, at length, a "duty had been
performed;" this imperishable offering to Freedom, "which had its
commencement in manly patriotism," was "crowned by garlands of grace and
beauty."
[13] The last stone was raised on the morning of the twenty-third of
July, 1842; the government of the Association and a multitude of other
people were present on the occasion. Just before this act took place, a
cannon was raised to the apex and discharged--a morning salute to call
the people together to engage in the matins of Freedom. Edward Carnes,
Jr., of Charlestown, accompanied the stone in its ascent, waving the
American flag as he went up, and the Charlestown Artillery were
meanwhile firing salutes to announce to the surrounding country the
interesting event.
LYDIA DARRAH.
The brave man is not he who feels no fear,
For that were stupid and irrational;
But he whose noble soul its fear subdues,
And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from.
JOANNA BAILLIE.
We find the following anecdote of the amiable and heroic Quakeress,
Lydia Darrah, in the first number of the American Quarterly Review:
When the British army held possession of Philadelphia, General Howe's
head quarters were in Second street, the fourth door below Spruce, in a
house which was before occupied by General Cadwalader. Directly
opposite, resided William and Lydia Darrah, members of the Society of
Friends. A superior officer of the British army, believed to be the
Adjutant General, fixed upon one of their chambers, a back room, for
private conference; and two of them frequently met there, with fire and
candles, in close consultation. About the second of December, the
Adjutant General told Lydia that they would be in the room at seven
o'clock, and remain late; and that they wished the family to retire
early to bed; adding, that when they were going away, they would call
her to let them out, and extinguish their fire and candles. She
accordingly sent all the family to bed; but, as the officer had been so
particular, her curiosity was excited. She took off her shoes, and put
her ear to the key-hole of the conclave. She overheard an order read for
all the British troops to march out, late in the evening of the fourth,
and attack General Washington's army, then encamped at White Marsh. On
hearing this, she returned to her chamber and laid herself down. Soon
after, the officers knocked at her door, but she rose only at the third
summons, having feigned to be asleep. Her mind was so much agitated
that, from this moment, she could neither eat nor sleep; supposing it to
be in her power to save the lives of thousands of her countrymen; but
not knowing how she was to convey the necessary information to General
Washington, nor daring to confide it even to her husband. The time left,
was, however, short; she quickly determined to make her way, as soon as
possible, to the American outposts. She informed her family, that, as
they were in want of flour, she would go to Frankfort for some; her
husband insisted that she should take with her the servant maid; but, to
his surprise, she positively refused. She got access to General Howe,
and solicited--what he readily granted,--a pass through the British
troops on the lines. Leaving her bag at the mill, she hastened towards
the American lines, and encountered on her way an American, Lieutenant
Colonel Craig, of the light horse, who, with some of his men, was on the
look-out for information. He knew her, and inquired whither she was
going. She answered, in quest of her son, an officer in the American
army; and prayed the Colonel to alight and walk with her. He did so,
ordering his troops to keep in sight. To him she disclosed her momentous
secret, after having obtained from him the most solemn promise never to
betray her individually, since her life might be at stake, with the
British. He conducted her to a house near at hand, directed a female in
it to give her something to eat, and he speeded for head quarters, where
he brought General Washington acquainted with what he had heard.
Washington made, of course, all preparation for baffling the meditated
surprise. Lydia returned home with her flour; sat up alone to watch the
movement of the British troops; heard their footsteps; but when they
returned, in a few days after, did not dare to ask a question, though
solicitous to learn the event. The next evening, the Adjutant General
came in, and requested her to walk up to his room, as he wished to put
some questions. She followed him in terror; and when he locked the door,
and begged her, with an air of mystery to be seated, she was sure that
she was either suspected, or had been betrayed. He inquired earnestly
whether any of her family were up the last night he and the other
officer met:--she told him that they all retired at eight o'clock. He
observed--"I know _you_ were asleep, for I knocked at your chamber door
three times before you heard me;--I am entirely at a loss to imagine who
gave General Washington information of our intended attack, unless the
walls of the house could speak. When we arrived near White Marsh, we
found all their cannon mounted, and the troops prepared to receive us;
and we have marched back like a parcel of fools."
WIDOW STOREY.[14]
Stick to your aim; the mongrel's hold will slip,
But only crow-bars loose the bull-dog's lip;
Small as he looks, the jaw that never yields,
Drags down the bellowing monarch of the fields.
HOLMES.
The first man who commenced a settlement in the town of Salisbury,
Vermont, on the Otter creek, was Amos Storey, who, in making an opening
in the heart of the wilderness on the right of land to which the first
settler was entitled, was killed by the fall of a tree. His widow, who
had been left in Connecticut, immediately resolved to push into the
wilderness, with her ten small children, to take his place and preserve
and clear up his farm. And this bold resolution she carried out to the
letter, in spite of every difficulty, hardship and danger which for
years constantly beset her in her solitary location in the woods. Acre
after acre of the dense and dark forest melted away before her axe,
which she handled with the dexterity of the most experienced chopper.
The logs and bushes were piled and burnt by her own strong and untiring
hand: crops were raised, by which, with the fruits of her fishing and
unerring rifle, she supported herself and her hardy brood of children.
As a place of refuge from the assaults of Indians or dangerous wild
beasts, she dug out an underground room, into which, through a small
entrance made to open under an overhanging thicket in the bank of the
stream, she nightly retreated with her children. And here she continued
to reside, thus living and thus laboring, unassisted, till, by her own
hand and the help which her boys soon began to afford her, she cleared
up a valuable farm and placed herself in independent circumstances in
life.
[14] For this anecdote and that of Mrs. Hendee, we are indebted to the
Hon. Daniel P. Thompson, of Montpelier, author of "The Green Mountain
Boys," "Locke Amsden," &c. In a note to the author, in a letter which
contained these anecdotes, he appropriately observes that "the women of
the Green Mountains deserve as much credit for their various displays of
courage, endurance and patriotism, in the early settlement of their
State, as was ever awarded to their sex for similar exhibitions in any
part of the world. In the controversy with New York and New Hampshire,
which took the form of war in many instances; in the predatory Indian
incursions, and in the war of the Revolution, they often displayed a
capacity for labor and endurance, a spirit and firmness in the hour of
danger, and a resolution and hardihood in defending their families, and
their threatened land against all enemies, whether domestic or foreign,
that would have done honor to the dames of Sparta."
MRS. HENDEE.
I am their mother, who shall bar me from them.
SHAKSPEARE.
On the burning of Royalton, Vermont, by the Indians, in 1776, Mrs.
Hendee, of that place, exhibited a praiseworthy and heroic character.
The attack was sudden, and her husband being absent in the Vermont
regiment, and she being in the field, the Indians seized her children,
carried them across White river, at that place perhaps an hundred yards
wide and quite deep for fording, and placed them under the keepers
having the other persons they had collected, thirty or forty in number,
in charge. On discovering the fate of her children, Mrs. Hendee
resolutely dashed into the river, waded through, and fearlessly entering
the Indian camp, regardless of their tomahawks menacingly flourished
round her head, boldly demanded the release of her little ones, and
persevered in her alternate upbraidings and supplications, till her
request was granted. She then carried her children back through the
river and landed them in safety on the other bank. But not content with
what she had done, like a patriot, as she was, she immediately
returned, begged for the release of the children of others; again was
rewarded with success, and brought two or three more away; again
returned and again succeeded, till she had rescued the whole fifteen of
her neighbors' children who had been thus snatched away from their
distracted parents. On her last return to the camp of the enemy, the
Indians were so struck with her conduct that one of them declared that
so brave a squaw deserved to be carried across the river, and offered to
take her on his back and carry her over. She, in the same spirit,
accepted the offer, mounted the back of the gallant savage, was carried
to the opposite bank, where she collected her rescued troop of children,
and hastened away to restore them to their over-joyed parents.
PATRIOTIC WOMEN OF OLD MIDDLESEX.
In the radiant front superior shines
That first paternal virtue, public zeal,
Who throws o'er all an equal wide survey,
And, ever musing on the common weal,
Still labors glorious with some great design.
THOMSON.
"Old Middlesex" being our native county, with peculiar pleasure and some
local pride, we record the following anecdote. Should the historical
ploughshare be driven through the other towns in the county, and the
towns generally of Massachusetts, it would turn up similar gems in
abundance, "of purest ray serene." We quote from Butler's History of
Groton:
"After the departure of Colonel Prescott's regiment of 'minute-men,'
Mrs. David Wright, of Pepperell, Mrs. Job Shattuck, of Groton, and the
neighboring women, collected at what is now Jewett's Bridge, over the
Nashua, between Pepperell and Groton, clothed in their absent husbands'
apparel, and armed with muskets, pitchforks, and such other weapons as
they could find; and having elected Mrs. Wright their commander,
resolutely determined that no foe to freedom, foreign or domestic,
should pass that bridge. For rumors were rife, that the regulars were
approaching and frightful stories of slaughter flew rapidly from place
to place, and from house to house.
"Soon there appeared one[15] on horseback, supposed to be treasonably
engaged in conveying intelligence to the enemy. By the implicit command
of Sergeant Wright, he is immediately arrested, unhorsed, searched, and
the treasonable correspondence found concealed in his boots. He was
detained prisoner, and sent to Oliver Prescott, Esq., of Groton, and his
dispatches were sent to the Committee of Safety."
[15] Captain Leonard Whiting, of Hollis, N. H., a noted tory, who was
the bearer of dispatches from Canada to the British in Boston.
THE CACIQUE'S NOBLE DAUGHTER.