Germans four or five miles north of the village of Herkimer, in the
upper part of the Mohawk valley, called Shell's Bush. Among the early
settlers, was John Christian Shell, who had a family of six brave sons
and a no less brave wife. When, on the sixth of August, 1781, a Scotch
refugee named Donald McDonald, at the head of sixty-six tories and
Indians, attacked that settlement, Mrs. Shell acted the part of an
heroic dame. The house was built for border emergencies, and when the
enemy approached, the husband and older boys[89] fled from the fields,
entered their castle, and strongly barricaded the doors. From two
o'clock in the afternoon until twilight, the besieged kept up an almost
incessant firing, Mrs. Shell loading the guns for her husband and older
sons to discharge. During the siege, McDonald attempted to force the
door with a crow bar, and was shot in the leg, seized by Shell and drawn
within doors. Exasperated at this bold feat, the enemy soon attempted to
carry the fortress by assault, five of them leaping upon the walls and
thrusting their guns through the loopholes. At that moment the cool and
courageous woman seized an axe, smote the barrels and bent and spoiled
them. Her husband then resorted to stratagem to drive the besiegers
away: running up stairs and calling to Mrs. Shell in a very loud voice,
he said that Captain Small was approaching with help from Fort Dayton.
Then raising his voice to its highest pitch, he exclaimed, "Captain
Small, march your company round upon this side of the house. Captain
Getman, you had better wheel your men off to the left, and come up upon
that side."[90] Fearing the phantom troops whom Mr. Shell's imagination
had conjured, the enemy shouldered their guns--crooked barreled and
all--and quickly buried themselves in the dense forest.
[89] The two youngest boys, who were twins and about eight years old,
were captured; and when the enemy fled, they were carried away as
prisoners.
[90] Border Wars of the American Revolution, vol. 2, p. 153.
FATHER TAYLOR'S WIDOWED FRIEND.
Humble toil and heavenward duty.
MRS. HALE.
"A pious widow, who resided among ignorant and vicious neighbors in the
suburbs of B----, Massachusetts, determined to do what she could for
their spiritual benefit; and so she opened her little front room for
weekly prayer meetings, and engaged some pious Methodists to aid in
conducting them. Much of the seed thus scattered on a seemingly arid
soil, produced fruit. One instance deserves special notice.
"Among others who attended, was a young sailor of intelligent and
prepossessing countenance. A slight acquaintance with him discovered him
to be very ignorant of even the rudiments of education; but, at the same
time, he had such manifestly superior abilities, that the widow became
much interested in his spiritual welfare, and could not but hope that
God would in some way provide for his further instruction, convert him
and render him useful. But in the midst of her anticipations, he was
suddenly summoned away to sea. He had been out but a short time when the
vessel was seized by a British privateer and carried into Halifax,
where the crew suffered by a long and wretched imprisonment.
"A year had passed away, during which the good woman had heard nothing
of the young sailor. Still she remembered and prayed for him with the
solicitude of a mother. About this time, she received a letter from her
relations, who resided in Halifax, on business which required her to go
to that town. While there, her habitual disposition to be useful, led
her with a few friends to visit the prison with Bibles and tracts. In
one apartment were the American prisoners. As she approached the grated
door, a voice shouted her name, calling her mother, and a youth appeared
and leaped for joy at the grate. It was the lost sailor boy! They wept
and conversed like mother and son, and when she left she gave him a
Bible--his future guide and comfort. During her stay at Halifax, she
constantly visited the prison, supplying the youth with tracts,
religious books, and clothing, and endeavoring by her conversation to
secure the religious impression made on his mind at the prayer meetings
in B----. After many months she removed to a distant part of the
provinces; and for years she heard nothing more of the young sailor.
"We pass over a period of many years, and introduce the reader to Father
T----, the distinguished mariners' preacher in the city of B----. In a
spacious and substantial chapel, crowded about by the worst habitations
in the city, this distinguished man delivered every Sabbath, discourses
as extraordinary, perhaps, as are to be found in the Christian world.
In the centre column of seats, guarded sacredly against all other
intrusion, sat a dense mass of mariners--a strange medley of white,
black, and olive; Protestant, Catholic, and Pagan. On the other seats in
the galleries, the aisles, the altar, and on the pulpit stairs, were
crowded, week after week, and year after year--the families of sailors,
and the poor who had no other temple--the elite of the city--the learned
professor--the student--the popular writer--the actor--groups of
clergymen, and the votaries of gayety and fashion, listening with
throbbing hearts and wet eyes, to a man whose only school had been the
forecastle, and whose only endowments were those of grace and nature.
"In the year 183--, an aged English local preacher moved into the city
of B---- from the British provinces.
"The old local preacher was mingling in a public throng one day with a
friend, when they met 'Father T----.' A few words of introduction led to
a free conversation, in which the former residence of his wife in the
city was mentioned, and allusion was made to her prayer meeting--her
former name was asked by 'Father T----;' he seemed seized by an
impulse--inquired their residence, hastened away, and in a short time
arrived in a carriage, with all his family, at the home of the aged
pair. There a scene ensued which must be left to the imagination of the
reader. 'Father T----' was the sailor boy of the prayer meeting and the
prison. The old lady was the widow who had first cared for his soul."
PICTURE OF A REVOLUTIONARY MOTHER.
This is my own, my native land.
SCOTT.
True wit is nature to advantage dressed.
POPE.
Mrs. Eliza Wilkinson resided during the Revolution on Yonge's island,
thirty miles south of Charleston, South Carolina. She was a cheerful,
witty and accomplished young widow, and a keen sufferer on account of
her whig principles. Her letters, arranged by Mrs. Gilman, and published
several years ago, afford a panoramic view of many dark scenes at the
gloomiest period of American history, and beautifully daguerreotype her
own pure and patriotic heart. A single extract will show her character.
She visited the city of Charleston soon after its surrender, and
witnessed the departure of her exiled friends. Referring to matters
about that period, she writes:
"Once I was asked by a British officer to play the guitar.
"'I cannot play; I am very dull.'
"'How long do you intend to continue so, Mrs. Wilkinson?'
"'Until my countrymen return, sir!'
"'Return as what, madam?--prisoners or subjects?'
"'As conquerors, sir.'
"He affected a laugh. 'You will never see that, madam!'
"'I live in hopes, sir, of seeing the thirteen stripes hoisted once more
on the bastions of this garrison.'
"'Do not hope so; but come, give us a tune on the guitar.'
"'I can play nothing but rebel songs.'
"'Well, let us have one of them.'
"'Not to-day--I cannot play--I will not play; besides, I suppose I
should be put into the Provost for such a heinous crime.'
"I have often wondered since, I was not packed off, too; for I was very
saucy, and never disguised my sentiments.
"One day Kitty and I were going to take a walk on the Bay, to get
something we wanted. Just as we had got our hats on, up ran one of the
Billets into the dining-room, where we were.
"'Your servant, ladies.'
"'Your servant, sir.'
"'Going out, ladies?'
"'Only to take a little walk.'
"He immediately turned about and ran down stairs. I guessed for what....
He offered me his hand, or rather arm, to lean upon.
"'Excuse me, sir,' said I; 'I will support myself if you please.'
"'No, madam, the pavements are very uneven; you may get a fall; do
accept my arm.'
"'Pardon me, I cannot.'
"'Come, you do not know what your condescension may do. I will turn
rebel!'
"'Will you?' said I, laughingly--'Turn rebel first, and then offer your
arm.'
"We stopped in another store, where were several British officers. After
asking for the articles I wanted, I saw a broad roll of ribbon, which
appeared to be of black and white stripes.
"'Go,' said I to the officer who was with us, 'and reckon the stripes of
that ribbon; see if they are _thirteen_!' (with an emphasis I spoke the
word)--and he went, too!
"'Yes, they are thirteen, upon my word, madam.'
"'Do hand it me.' He did so; I took it, and found that it was narrow
black ribbon, carefully wound round a broad white. I returned it to its
place on the shelf.
"'Madam,' said the merchant, 'you can buy the black and white too, and
tack them in stripes.'
"By no means, sir; I would not have them _slightly tacked_, but _firmly
united_.' The above mentioned officers sat on the counter kicking their
heels. How they gaped at me when I said this! But the merchant laughed
heartily."
SUCCESSFUL DARING.
----He stopped the fliers.
SHAKSPEARE'S CORIOLANUS.
Many years ago, while a stage was passing through Temple, New Hampshire,
the driver's seat gave way, and himself and a gentleman seated with him,
were precipitated to the ground. The latter was killed. The horses took
fright at the noise, and ran a mile or more at full speed. Meanwhile,
Miss Abigail Brown, the only inside passenger and now the sole occupant
of the stage, endeavored, by speaking soothingly, to stop the horses. At
length they came to a high hill, when their speed began to slacken, and
Miss Brown, having previously opened the door and taken a convenient
position to alight, sprang out. Not content to save her own life, but
bent on acting the part of a heroine, she rushed forward, seized the
leaders, turned them out of the road, and held them fast till persons
whom she had passed and who had tried to stop the flying steeds, came to
her relief. Had this feat, trifling as it may seem, been performed by
the wife of some Roman dignitary, she would have been apotheosized and
her biography inserted in Lempriere's Classical Dictionary.
WORTHY EXAMPLE OF FORGIVENESS
They who forgive most shall be most forgiven.--BAILEY.
"A worthy old colored woman in the city of New York, was one day walking
along the street, on some errand to a neighboring store, with her
tobacco pipe in her mouth, quietly smoking. A jovial sailor, rendered a
little mischievous by liquor, came sawing down the street, and when
opposite our good Phillis, saucily crowded her aside, and with a pass of
his hand knocked her pipe out of her mouth. He then halted to hear her
fret at his trick, and enjoy a laugh at her expense. But what was his
astonishment, when she meekly picked up the pieces of her broken pipe,
without the least resentment in her manner, and giving him a dignified
look of mingled sorrow, kindness and pity, said, 'God forgive you, my
son, as I do.' It touched a tender cord in the heart of the rude tar. He
felt ashamed, condemned and repentant. The tear started in his eye; he
must make reparation. He heartily confessed his error, and thrusting
both hands into his two full pockets of '_change_,' forced the contents
upon her, exclaiming, 'God bless you, kind mother, I'll never do so
again.'"
CROOKSHANKS SAVED BY A FEMALE.
----Oh the tender ties,
Close twisted with the fibres of the heart.
YOUNG.
The night before the surprise of Georgetown, Adjutant Crookshanks, one
of the enemy's officers, together with some of his commissioned
comrades, slept at a public house. The next morning it was surrounded,
and the Adjutant would have lost his life, but for the interposition of
the landlord's daughter, to whom he was affianced. Awakened and, at
first, alarmed by the firing without and the bustle at the door, and
hearing her lover's voice, she sprung out of bed and rushed, half
dressed, into the piazza. At that moment the swords of her countrymen
were raised over his head, and she threw her arms around his neck,
exclaiming, "O save! save Major Crookshanks!" Though made a prisoner, he
was forthwith paroled, and left, for the time, with the brave and
true-hearted maiden.
A PATRIOTIC ARTIST.
Genius, the Pythian of the Beautiful,
Leaves its large truths a riddle to the dull.
BULWER.
"At the commencement of the Revolution, Mrs. Wright, a native of
Pennsylvania, a distinguished modeler of likenesses and figures of wax,
was exhibiting specimens of her skill in London. The king of Great
Britain, pleased with her talents, gave her liberal encouragement, and,
finding her a great politician, and an enthusiastic republican, would
often enter into discussion relative to passing occurrences, and
endeavored to refute her opinion with regard to the probable issue of
the war. The frankness with which she delivered her sentiments, seemed
rather to please than to offend him; which was a fortunate circumstance,
for, when he asked an opinion, she gave it without constraint, or the
least regard to consequences. I remember to have heard her say, that on
one occasion, the monarch, irritated by some disaster to his troops,
where he had prognosticated a triumph, exclaimed with warmth: 'I wish,
Mrs. Wright, you would tell me how it will be possible to check the
silly infatuation of your countrymen, restore them to reason, and
render them good and obedient subjects.'--'I consider their submission
to your majesty's government is now altogether out of the question,'
replied Mrs. Wright: 'friends you may make them, but never subjects; for
America, before a king can reign there, must become a wilderness,
without any other inhabitants than the beasts of the forest. The
opponents of the decrees of your parliament, rather than submit, would
perish to a man; but if the restoration of peace be seriously the object
of your wishes, I am confident that it needs but the striking off of
_three heads_ to produce it.'--'O, Lord North's and Lord George
Germaine's, beyond all question; and where is the third head?' 'O, sir,
politeness forbids me to name _him_. Your majesty could never wish me to
forget myself, and be guilty of an incivility.'
"In her exhibition room, one group of figures particularly attracted
attention; and by all who knew her sentiments, was believed to be a
pointed hint at the results which might follow the wild ambition of the
monarch. The busts of the king and queen of Great Britain, were placed
on a table, apparently intently gazing on a head, which a figure, an
excellent representation of herself, was modeling in its lap. It was the
head of the unfortunate Charles the First."
TEMPERANCE MOVEMENT AMONG MOHAWK WOMEN.
Beware the bowl! though rich and bright
Its rubies flash upon the sight,
An adder coils its depths beneath,
Whose lure is woe, whose sting is death.
STREET.
In the years 1801 and 1802, great efforts were made by the chiefs of the
Mohawk Indians to prevent the sale of spirituous liquors among their
people. In this humane movement the women of the tribe readily joined;
and having assembled in council, on the twenty-second of May, 1802, they
addressed the chiefs, whom they had summoned, as follows:
"UNCLES,--Some time ago the women of this place spoke to you, but you
did not then answer them, as you considered their meeting not
sufficient. Now, a considerable number of those from below having met
and consulted together, join in sentiment, and lament, as it were with
tears in our eyes, the many misfortunes caused by the use of spirituous
liquors. We therefore mutually request that you will use your endeavors
to have it removed from our neighborhood, that there may be none sold
nigher to us than the mountain. We flatter ourselves that this is in
your power, and that you will have compassion on our uneasiness, and
exert yourselves to have it done." STRINGS OF WAMPUM.
This appeal had a good effect on the chiefs; and received suitable
attention, drawing from them the following reply. It was delivered by
Captain Brant:
"NIECES,--We are fully convinced of the justice of your request;
drinking has caused the many misfortunes in this place, and has been,
besides, a great cause of the divisions, by the effect it has upon the
people's speech. We assure you, therefore, that we will use our
endeavours to effect what you desire. However, it depends in a great
measure upon government, as the distance you propose is within their
line. We cannot, therefore, absolutely promise that our request will be
complied with."
STRINGS. 29
A FEMALE IN THE REVOLUTIONARY ARMY.
She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars.
SHAKSPEARE.
Deborah Samson, the daughter of very poor parents, of Plymouth county,
Massachusetts, began, when about twenty years of age, to feel the
patriotic zeal which had prompted the sterner sex in her neighborhood to
take up arms in their country's defence. She accordingly assumed male
attire, and enlisted in the Revolutionary army. We agree with Mrs. Ellet
that, while this course cannot be commended, her exemplary conduct,
after taking the first step, goes far to plead her excuse, and is worthy
of record. Her method of obtaining men's garments, and her military
career, are thus narrated by the author just mentioned:
By keeping the district school for a summer term, she had amassed the
sum of twelve dollars. She purchased a quantity of coarse fustian, and,
working at intervals when she could be secure from observation, made up
a suit of men's clothing; each article, as it was finished, being hid
in a stack of hay. Having completed her preparations, she announced her
intention of going where she could obtain better wages for her labor.
Her new clothes and such articles as she wished to take with her, were
tied in a bundle. The lonely girl departed; but went not far, probably
only to the shelter of the nearest wood, before putting on the disguise
she was so eager to assume. Although not beautiful, her features were
animated and pleasing, and her figure, tall for a woman, was finely
proportioned. As a man, she might have been called handsome; her general
appearance was extremely prepossessing, and her manner calculated to
inspire confidence.
She now pursued her way to the American army, where she presented
herself, in October, 1778, as a young man anxious to join his efforts to
those of his countrymen, in their endeavors to oppose the common enemy.
Her acquaintances, meanwhile, supposed her engaged in service at a
distance. Rumors of her elopement with a British soldier, and even of
her death, were afterwards current in the neighborhood where she had
resided; but none were sufficiently interested to make such search for
her as might have led to a discovery.
Distrusting her own constancy, and resolute to continue in the service,
notwithstanding any change of her inclination, she enlisted for the
whole term of the war. She was received and enrolled in the army by the
name of Robert Shirtliffe. She was one of the first volunteers in the
company of Captain Nathan Thayer of Medway, Massachusetts; and as the
young recruit appeared to have no home or connections, the Captain gave
her a home in his family until his company should be full, when they
were to join the main army.
We now find her performing the duties and enduring the fatigues of
military life. During the seven weeks she passed in the family of
Captain Thayer, she had time both for experience and reflection; but, in
after years, her constant declaration was that she never, for one
moment, repented or regretted the step she had taken. Accustomed to
labor from childhood, upon the farm and in out-door employment, she had
acquired unusual vigor of constitution; her frame was robust, and of
masculine strength; and having thus gained a degree of hardihood, she
was enabled to acquire great expertness and precision in the manual
exercise, and to undergo what a female delicately nurtured would have
found it impossible to endure. Soon after they had joined the company,
the recruits were supplied with uniforms by a kind of lottery. That
drawn by Robert did not fit; but, taking needle and scissors, he soon
altered it to suit him. To Mrs. Thayer's expression of surprise, at
finding a young man so expert in using the implements of feminine
industry, the answer was--that his mother having no girl, he had been
often obliged to practice the seamstress's art.
While in the house of Captain Thayer, a young girl visiting his wife,
was much in the society of Deborah, or, as she was then called, Robert.
Coquettish by nature, and perhaps priding herself on the conquest of
the "blooming soldier," she suffered her growing partiality to be
perceived. Robert, on his part, felt a curiosity to learn by new
experience how soon a maiden's fancy might be won; and had no scruples
in paying attentions to one so volatile and fond of flirtation, with
whom it was not likely the impression would be lasting. This little
piece of romance gave some uneasiness to the worthy Mrs. Thayer, who
could not help observing that the liking of her fair visitor for Robert
was not fully reciprocated. She took an opportunity of remonstrating
with the young soldier, and showed what unhappiness might be the
consequence of such folly, and how unworthy it was of a brave man to
trifle with a girl's feelings. The caution was taken in good part, and
it is not known that the "love passage" was continued, though Robert
received at parting some tokens of remembrance, which were treasured as
relics in after years.
For three years our heroine appeared in the character of a soldier,
being part of the time employed as a waiter in the family of Colonel
Patterson. During this time, and in both situations, her exemplary
conduct, and the fidelity with which her duties were performed, gained
the approbation and confidence of the officers. She was a volunteer in
several hazardous enterprizes, and was twice wounded, the first time by
a sword cut on the left side of the head. Many were the adventures she
passed through; as she herself would often say, volumes might be filled
with them. Sometimes placed, unavoidably, in circumstances in which she
feared detection, she nevertheless escaped without the least suspicion
being awakened among her comrades. The soldiers were in the habit of
calling her "Molly," in playful allusion to her want of a beard; but not
one of them ever dreamed that the gallant youth fighting by their side,
was in reality a female.
About four months after her first wound she received another severe one,
being shot through the shoulder. Her first emotion when the ball
entered, she described to be a sickening terror at the probability that
her sex would be discovered. She felt that death on the battle-field
were preferable to the shame that would overwhelm her, and ardently
prayed that the wound might close her earthly campaign. But, strange as
it may seem, she escaped this time also unsuspected; and soon recovering
her strength, was able again to take her place at the post of duty, and
in the deadly conflict. Her immunity was not, however, destined long to
continue--she was seized with a brain fever, then prevalent among the
soldiers. For the few days that reason struggled against the disease,
her sufferings were indescribable; and most terrible of all was the
dread lest consciousness should desert her, and the secret she had
guarded so carefully be revealed to those around her. She was carried to
the hospital, and there could only ascribe her escape to the number of
patients, and the negligent manner in which they were attended. Her case
was considered a hopeless one, and she perhaps received less attention
on this account. One day the physician of the hospital, inquiring--"How
is Robert?" received from the nurse in attendance the answer--"Poor Bob
is gone." The doctor went to the bed, and taking the hand of the youth
supposed dead, found that the pulse was still feebly beating; attempting
to place his hand on the heart, he perceived that a bandage was fastened
tightly around the breast. This was removed, and to his utter
astonishment he discovered a female patient where he had least expected
one!
This gentleman was Dr. Binney, of Philadelphia. With a prudence,
delicacy and generosity, ever afterwards warmly appreciated by the
unfortunate sufferer, he said not a word of his discovery, but paid her
every attention, and provided every comfort her perilous condition
required. As soon as she could be removed with safety, he had her taken
to his own house, where she could receive better care. His family
wondered not a little at the unusual interest manifested for the poor
invalid soldier.