And join the border-fray,
They shrank not from the foeman,
They quailed not in the fight,
But cheered their husbands through the day,
And soothed them through the night.
W. D. GALLAGHER.
The most noted heroine of the Mohawk valley, and one of the bravest and
noblest mothers of the Revolution, was Nancy Van Alstine. Her maiden
name was Quackinbush. She was born near Canajoharie, about the year
1733, and was married to Martin J. Van Alstine, at the age of eighteen.
He settled in the valley of the Mohawk, and occupied the Van Alstine
family mansion. Mrs. Van Alstine was the mother of fifteen children. She
died at Wampsville, Madison county, in 1831.
In the month of August, 1780, an army of Indians and tories, led on by
Brant, rushed into the Mohawk valley, devastated several settlements,
and killed many of the inhabitants: and during the two following months,
Sir John Johnson, made a descent and finished the work which Brant had
begun. The two almost completely destroyed the settlements throughout
the valley. It was during those trying times that Mrs. Van Alstine
performed a portion of her heroic exploits which are so interestingly
related by Mrs. Ellet.
"While the enemy, stationed at Johnstown, were laying waste the country,
parties continually going about to murder the inhabitants and burn their
dwellings, the neighborhood in which Mrs. Van Alstine lived remained in
comparative quiet, though the settlers trembled as each sun arose, lest
his setting beams should fall on their ruined homes. Most of the men
were absent, and when, at length, intelligence came that the destroyers
were approaching, the people were almost distracted with terror. Mrs.
Van Alstine called her neighbors together, endeavored to calm their
fears, and advised them to make immediate arrangements for removing to
an island, belonging to her husband, near the opposite side of the
river. She knew that the spoilers would be in too great haste to make
any attempt to cross, and thought if some articles were removed, they
might be induced to suppose the inhabitants gone to a greater distance.
The seven families in the neighborhood were in a few hours upon the
island, having taken with them many things necessary for their comfort
during a short stay. Mrs. Van Alstine remained herself to the last, then
crossed in the boat, helping to draw it far up on the beach. Scarcely
had they secreted themselves before they heard the dreaded warwhoop, and
descried the Indians in the distance. It was not long before one and
another saw the homes they loved in flames. When the savages came to Van
Alstine's house, they were about to fire that also, but the chief,
interfering, informed them that Sir John would not be pleased if that
house were burned--the owner having extended civilities to the baronet
before the commencement of hostilities. 'Let the old wolf keep his den,'
he said, and the house was left unmolested. The talking of the Indians
could be distinctly heard from the island, and Mrs. Van Alstine rejoiced
that she was thus enabled to give shelter to the houseless families who
had fled with her. The fugitives, however, did not deem it prudent to
leave their place of concealment for several days, the smoke seen in
different directions too plainly indicating that the work of devastation
was going on.
"The destitute families remained at Van Alstine's house till it was
deemed prudent to rebuild their homes. Later in the following autumn an
incident occurred which brought much trouble upon them. Three men from
the neighborhood of Canajoharie, who had deserted the whig cause and
joined the British, came back from Canada as spies, and were detected
and apprehended. Their execution followed; two were shot, and one, a
bold, adventurous fellow, named Harry Harr, was hung in Mr. Van
Alstine's orchard. Their prolonged absence causing some uneasiness to
their friends in Canada, some Indians were sent to reconnoitre and learn
something of them. It happened that they arrived on the day of Harr's
execution, which they witnessed from a neighboring hill. They returned
immediately with the information, and a party was dispatched--it is said
by Brant--to revenge the death of the spies upon the inhabitants. Their
continued shouts of 'Aha, Harry Harr!' while engaged in pillaging and
destroying, showed that such was their purpose. In their progress of
devastation, they came to the house of Van Alstine, where no
preparations had been made for defence, the family not expecting an
attack, or not being aware of the near approach of the enemy. Mrs. Van
Alstine was personally acquainted with Brant, and it may have been owing
to this circumstance that the members of the family were not killed or
carried away as prisoners. The Indians came upon them by surprise,
entered the house without ceremony, and plundered and destroyed
everything in their way. Mrs. Van Alstine saw her most valued articles,
brought from Holland, broken one after another, till the house was
strewed with fragments. As they passed a large mirror without
demolishing it, she hoped it might be saved; but presently two of the
savages led in a colt from the stable, and the glass being laid in the
hall, compelled the animal to walk over it. The beds which they could
not carry away, they ripped open, shaking out the feathers and taking
the ticks with them. They also took all the clothing. One young Indian,
attracted by the brilliancy of a pair of inlaid buckles on the shoes of
the aged grandmother seated in the corner, rudely snatched them from her
feet, tore off the buckles, and flung the shoes in her face. Another
took her shawl from her neck, threatening to kill her if resistance were
offered. The eldest daughter, seeing a young savage carrying off a
basket containing a hat and cap her father had brought her from
Philadelphia, and which she highly prized, followed him, snatched her
basket, and after a struggle succeeded in pushing him down. She then
fled to a pile of hemp and hid herself, throwing the basket into it as
far as she could. The other Indians gathered round, and as the young one
rose clapped their hands, shouting 'Brave girl!' while he skulked away
to escape their derision. During the struggle Mrs. Van Alstine had
called to her daughter to give up the contest; but she insisted that her
basket should not be taken. Having gone through the house, the intruders
went up to the kitchen chamber, where a quantity of cream in large jars
had been brought from the dairy, and threw the jars down stairs,
covering the floor with their contents. They then broke the window glass
throughout the house, and unsatisfied with the plunder they had
collected, bribed a man servant by the promise of his clothes and a
portion of the booty to show them where some articles had been hastily
secreted. Mrs. Van Alstine had just finished cutting out winter clothing
for her family--which consisted of her mother-in-law, her husband and
twelve children, with two black servants--and had stowed it away in
barrels. The servant treacherously disclosed the hiding place, and the
clothing was soon added to the rest of the booty. Mrs. Van Alstine
reproached the man for his perfidy, which she assured him would be
punished, not rewarded by the savages, and her words were verified; for
after they had forced him to assist in securing their plunder, they
bound him and put him in one of their wagons, telling him his treachery
to the palefaces deserved no better treatment. The provisions having
been carried away, the family subsisted on corn, which they pounded and
made into cakes. They felt much the want of clothing, and Mrs. Van
Alstine gathered the silk of milkweed, of which, mixed with flax, she
spun and wove garments. The inclement season was now approaching, and
they suffered severely from the want of window glass, as well as their
bedding, woolen clothes, and the various articles, including cooking
utensils, taken from them. Mrs. Van Alstine's most arduous labors could
do little towards providing for so many destitute persons; their
neighbors were in no condition to help them, the roads were almost
impassable, besides being infested by Indians, and their finest horses
had been taken. In this deplorable situation, she proposed to her
husband to join with others who had been robbed in like manner, and make
an attempt to recover their property from the Indian castle, eighteen or
twenty miles distant, where it had been carried. But the idea of such an
enterprise against an enemy superior in numbers and well prepared for
defence, was soon abandoned. As the cold became more intolerable and the
necessity for doing something more urgent, Mrs. Van Alstine, unable to
witness longer the sufferings of those dependent on her, resolved to
venture herself on the expedition. Her husband and children endeavored
to dissuade her, but firm for their sake, she left home, accompanied by
her son, about sixteen years of age. The snow was deep and the roads in
a wretched condition, yet she persevered through all difficulties, and
by good fortune arrived at the castle at a time when the Indians were
all absent on a hunting excursion, the women and children only being
left at home. She went to the principal house, where she supposed the
most valuable articles must have been deposited, and on entering, was
met by the old squaw who had the superintendence, who demanded what she
wanted. She asked for food; the squaw hesitated; but on her visitor
saying she had never turned an Indian away hungry, sullenly commenced
preparations for a meal. The matron saw her bright copper tea-kettle,
with other cooking utensils, brought forth for use. While the squaw was
gone for water, she began a search for her property, and finding several
articles gave them to her son to put into the sleigh. When the squaw,
returning, asked by whose order she was taking those things, Mrs. Van
Alstine replied, that they belonged to her; and seeing that the woman
was not disposed to give them up peaceably, took from her pocket-book a
paper, and handed it to the squaw, who she knew could not read. The
woman asked whose name was affixed to the supposed order, and being told
it was that of 'Yankee Peter'--a man who had great influence among the
savages, dared not refuse submission. By this stratagem Mrs. Van Alstine
secured, without opposition, all the articles she could find belonging
to her, and put them into the sleigh. She then asked where the horses
were kept. The squaw refused to show her, but she went to the stable,
and there found those belonging to her husband, in fine order--for the
savages were careful of their best horses. The animals recognised their
mistress, and greeted her by a simultaneous neighing. She bade her son
cut the halters, and finding themselves at liberty they bounded off and
went homeward at full speed. The mother and son now drove back as fast
as possible, for she knew their fate would be sealed if the Indians
should return. They reached home late in the evening, and passed a
sleepless night, dreading instant pursuit and a night attack from the
irritated savages. Soon after daylight the alarm was given that the
Indians were within view, and coming towards the house, painted and in
their war costume, and armed with tomahawks and rifles. Mr. Van Alstine
saw no course to escape their vengeance but to give up whatever they
wished to take back; but his intrepid wife was determined on an effort,
at least, to retain her property. As they came near she begged her
husband not to show himself--for she knew they would immediately fall
upon him--but to leave the matter in her hands. The intruders took their
course first to the stable, and bidding all the rest remain within
doors, the matron went out alone, followed to the door by her family,
weeping and entreating her not to expose herself. Going to the stable
she enquired in the Indian language what the men wanted. The reply was
'our horses.' She said boldly--'They are ours; you came and took them
without right; they are ours, and we mean to keep them.' The chief now
came forward threateningly, and approached the door. Mrs. Van Alstine
placed herself against it, telling him she would not give up the animals
they had raised and were attached to. He succeeded in pulling her from
the door, and drew out the plug that fastened it, which she snatched
from his hand, pushing him away. He then stepped back and presented his
rifle, threatening to shoot her if she did not move; but she kept her
position, opening her neckhandkerchief and bidding him shoot if he
dared. It might be that the Indian feared punishment from his allies for
any such act of violence, or that he was moved with admiration of her
intrepidity; he hesitated, looked at her for a moment, and then slowly
dropped his gun, uttering in his native language expressions implying
his conviction that the evil one must help her, and saying to his
companions that she was a brave woman and they would not molest her.
Giving a shout, by way of expressing their approbation, they departed
from the premises. On their way they called at the house of Col. Frey,
and related their adventure, saying that the white woman's courage had
saved her and her property, and were there fifty such brave women as
the wife of 'Big Tree,' the Indians would never have troubled the
inhabitants of the Mohawk valley. She experienced afterwards the good
effects of the impression made at this time....
"It was not long after this occurrence that several Indians came upon
some children left in the field while the men went to dinner, and took
them prisoners, tomahawking a young man who rushed from an adjoining
field to their assistance. Two of these--six and eight years of
age--were Mrs. Van Alstine's children. The savages passed on towards the
Susquehanna, plundering and destroying as they went. They were three
weeks upon the journey, and the poor little captives suffered much from
hunger and exposure to the night air, being in a deplorable condition by
the time they returned to Canada. On their arrival, according to custom,
each prisoner was required to run the gauntlet, two Indian boys being
stationed on either side, armed with clubs and sticks to beat him as he
ran. The eldest was cruelly bruised, and when the younger, pale and
exhausted, was led forward, a squaw of the tribe, taking pity on the
helpless child, said she would go in his place, or if that could not be
permitted, would carry him. She accordingly took him in her arms, and
wrapping her blanket around him, got through with some severe blows. The
children were then washed and clothed by order of the chief, and supper
was given them. Their uncle--then also a prisoner--heard of the arrival
of children from the Mohawk, and was permitted to visit them. The little
creatures were sleeping soundly when aroused by a familiar voice, and
joyfully exclaiming, 'Uncle Quackinbush!' were clasped in his arms. In
the following spring the captives were ransomed, and returned home in
fine spirits."[43]
[43] Women of the Revolution.
Prior to the commencement of hostilities, Mr. Van Alstine had purchased
a tract of land on the Susquehanna, eighteen miles below Cooperstown;
and thither removed in 1785. There as at her former home, Mrs. Van
Alstine had an opportunity to exhibit the heroic qualities of her
nature. We subjoin two anecdotes illustrative of forest life in the
midst of savages.
"On one occasion an Indian whom Mr. Van Alstine had offended, came to
his house with the intention of revenging himself. He was not at home,
and the men were out at work, but his wife and family were within, when
the intruder entered. Mrs. Van Alstine saw his purpose in his
countenance. When she inquired his business, he pointed to his rifle,
saying, he meant 'to show Big Tree which was the best man.' She well
knew that if her husband presented himself he would probably fall a
victim unless she could reconcile the difficulty. With this view she
commenced a conversation upon subjects in which she knew the savage
would take an interest, and admiring his dress, asked permission to
examine his rifle, which, after praising, she set down, and while
managing to fix his attention on something else poured water into the
barrel. She then gave him back the weapon, and assuming a more earnest
manner, spoke to him of the Good Spirit, his kindness to men, and their
duty to be kind to each other. By her admirable tact she so far
succeeded in pacifying him, that when her husband returned he was ready
to extend to him the hand of reconciliation and fellowship. He partook
of some refreshment, and before leaving informed them that one of their
neighbors had lent him the rifle for his deadly purpose. They had for
some time suspected this neighbor, who had coveted a piece of land, of
unkind feelings towards them because he could not obtain it, yet could
scarcely believe him so depraved. The Indian, to confirm his story,
offered to accompany Mrs. Van Alstine to the man's house, and although
it was evening she went with him, made him repeat what he had said, and
so convinced her neighbor of the wickedness of his conduct, that he was
ever afterwards one of their best friends. Thus by her prudence and
address she preserved, in all probability, the lives of her husband and
family; for she learned afterwards that a number of savages had been
concealed near, to rush upon them in case of danger to their companion.
"At another time a young Indian came in and asked the loan of a drawing
knife. As soon as he had it in his hand he walked up to the table, on
which there was a loaf of bread, and unceremoniously cut several slices
from it. One of Mrs. Van Alstine's sons had a deerskin in his hand, and
indignantly struck the savage with it. He turned and darted out of the
door, giving a loud whoop as he fled. The mother just then came in, and
hearing what had passed expressed her sorrow and fears that there would
be trouble, for she knew the Indian character too well to suppose they
would allow the matter to rest. Her apprehensions were soon realized by
the approach of a party of savages, headed by the brother of the youth
who had been struck. He entered alone, and inquired for the boy who had
given the blow. Mr. Van Alstine, starting up in surprise, asked
impatiently, 'What the devilish Indian wanted?' The savage,
understanding the expression applied to his appearance to be anything
but complimentary, uttered a sharp cry, and raising his rifle, aimed at
Van Alstine's breast. His wife sprang forward in time to throw up the
weapon, the contents of which were discharged into the wall, and pushing
out the Indian, who stood just at the entrance, she quickly closed the
door. He was much enraged, but she at length succeeded in persuading him
to listen to a calm account of the matter, and asked why the quarrel of
two lads should break their friendship. She finally invited him to come
in and settle the difficulty in an amicable way. To his objection that
they had no rum, she answered--'But we have tea;' and at length the
party was called in, and a speech made by the leader in favor of the
'white squaw,' after which the tea was passed round. The Indian then
took the grounds, and emptying them into a hole made in the ashes,
declared that the enmity was buried forever. After this, whenever the
family was molested, the ready tact of Mrs. Van Alstine, and her
acquaintance with Indian nature, enabled her to prevent any serious
difficulty. They had few advantages for religious worship, but whenever
the weather would permit, the neighbors assembled at Van Alstine's house
to hear the word preached. His wife, by her influence over the Indians,
persuaded many of them to attend, and would interpret to them what was
said by the minister. Often their rude hearts were touched, and they
would weep bitterly while she went over the affecting narrative of our
Redeemer's life and death, and explained the truths of the Gospel. Much
good did she in this way, and in after years many a savage converted to
Christianity blessed her as his benefactress."
HEROIC CONDUCT AT MONMOUTH.
Proud were they by such to stand,
In hammock, fort or glen;
To load the sure old rifle--
To run the leaden ball--
To watch a battling husband's place,
And fill it should he fall.
W. D. GALLAGHER.
During the battle of Monmouth, a gunner named Pitcher was killed; and
when the call was made for some one to take the place of her fallen
husband, his wife, who had followed him to the camp, and thence to the
field of conflict, unhesitatingly stepped forward, and offered her
services. The gun was so well managed as to draw the attention of
General Washington to the circumstance, and to call forth an expression
of his admiration of her bravery and her fidelity to her country. To
show his appreciation of her virtues and her highly valuable services,
he conferred on her a lieutenant's commission. She afterwards went by
the name of _Captain Molly_.
The poet Glover tells us, in his Leonidas, that Xerxes boasted
"His ablest, bravest counselor and chief
In Artemisia, Caria's matchless queen;"
and Herodotus also very justly eulogizes the same character. Yet
Artemisia was scarcely more serviceable to Xerxes in the battle of
Salamis, than "Captain Molly" to Washington in the battle of Monmouth.
One served in a Grecian expedition, to gratify her great spirit, vigor
of mind and love of glory; the other fought, partly, it may be, to
revenge the death of her husband, but more, doubtless, for the love she
bore for an injured country, "bleeding at every vein." One was rewarded
with a complete suit of Grecian armor; the other with a lieutenant's
commission, and both for their bravery. If the queen of Caria is
deserving of praise for her martial valor, the name of the heroic wife
of the gunner, should be woven with hers in a fadeless wreath of song.
COURAGE OF A COUNTRY GIRL.
Honor and shame from no condition rise,
Act well your part, there all the honor lies.
POPE
In December, 1777, while Washington was at Valley Forge and the enemy
was in Philadelphia, Major Tallmadge was stationed between the two
places with a detachment of cavalry, to make observations and to limit
the range of British foragers. On one occasion, while performing
this duty, he was informed that a country girl had gone into
Philadelphia--perhaps by Washington's instigation--ostensibly to sell
eggs, but really and especially to obtain information respecting the
enemy; and curiosity led him to move his detachment to Germantown. There
the main body halted while he advanced with a small party towards the
British lines. Dismounting at a tavern in plain sight of their outposts,
he soon saw a young girl coming out of the city. He watched her till she
came up to the tavern; made himself known to her, and was about to
receive some valuable intelligence, when he was informed that the
British light horse were advancing. Stepping to the door he saw them in
full pursuit of his patroles. He hastily mounted, but before he had
started his charger, the girl was at his side begging for protection.
Quick as thought, he ordered her to mount behind him. She obeyed, and in
that way rode to Germantown, a distance of three miles. During the whole
ride, writes the Major in his Journal, where we find these details,
"although there was considerable firing of pistols, and not a little
wheeling and charging, she remained unmoved, and never once complained
of fear."
THE LEDYARDS AT FORT GRISWOLD
Ah never shall the land forget
How gushed the life-blood of the brave;
Gushed warm with hope and courage yet,
Upon the soil they fought to save.
BRYANT
How few like thee enquire the wretched out,
And court the offices of soft humanity.
ROWE.