 CHAPTER 9 Dorothy Hancock Mrs. Hancock was one of those who, at Cambridge, extended courtesies to the ladies of Bill Gawings' army when under the Convention of Surrender. She was the daughter of Edmund Quincy of Massachusetts and was born in 1750. At the age of twenty-four, she was married to one of the greatest men of the age. The honour that encircled the name of John Hancock received added luster from the fair partner of his fortunes. Moving in the best circles of society and a leader in taste and fashion, she failed her illustrious station with dignity and dispensed with grace the hospitalities of her house. There might have been seen at her table all classes, the grave clergy, the veteran and the gay, and the gifted in song or anecdote or wit. The social customs of the day savoured of profusion. It was a practice in families of respectability to have a tankard of punch made in the morning of which visitors during the day were invited to partake. Dinners and suppers were frequently interchanged and the tables were loaded with provision. The dinner hour was at one or two o'clock, and three was the latest for formal occasions. The evening amusement was usually a game at cards, and dancing was much in vogue. There were concerts, but theatrical amusements were prohibited. Much attention was paid to dress and coats various in colour were worn. Mrs. Hancock was not only admirable in the pleasing duties of mistress of her household, but in hours of disease and pain soothed her husband and calmed his sensitive and irritable temper. She had her share, too, in the terrors and dangers of the war. Even the British made their attack at Lexington and Concord. She was at the latter place with Mr. Hancock and fled with him to Woburn. Many a scene of revolutionary days in which she was herself an actor or a spectator, she was accustomed to depict and after-years. She would often describe the appearance and manners of the British officers who had been quartered in Boston, dwelling particularly on the military virtue of Earl Percy, who slept in a tent among his soldiers and camped on the common in the winter of 1744 to 45 and whose voice could be heard at the dawn of day, drilling his troops. During the life of her husband, Mrs. Hancock was of necessity much in the gay world in which she occupied a position so distinguished. After his death she married Captain Scott, with whom she passed a less brilliant yet not a less happy life. Her later years were spent in seclusion. She was still, however, surrounded by friends who were instructed and charmed by her superior mind and cheerful conversation. She went but little into society and whenever she appeared was received with great attention. Lafayette, on his visit to this country, called upon her and many spoke of the interesting interview witness between the once youthful Chevalier and the splendid Bell. She died in her 78th year. Several anecdotes are told of her sprightliness, good sense and benevolence, but unfortunately cannot be obtained in a form sufficiently authentic for this sketch. Sarah Hull, the wife of Major William Hull, was one of those women who followed their husbands to the camp, resolved to partake their dangers and privations. She was with the army at Saratoga and joined the other American ladies in kind and soothing attentions to the fair captives after the surrender. She was the daughter of Judge Fuller of Newton, Massachusetts, and was born about 1755. At the close of the war she returned home and when her gallant husband was appointed general of the county militia did the honors of his maquque and received guests of distinction with a grace, dignity and appability that attracted general admiration. For several years General Hull held the office of Governor of Michigan Territory. In her eminent station Mrs. Hull displayed so much good sense with more brilliant accomplishments that she improved the state of society in her neighborhood without provoking envy by her superiority. The influence of a strong intellect with cultivated taste and refinement presided in her circle. Those who visited the wild country about them found a generous welcome at her hospitable mansion and departed with admiring recollections of her and her daughters. But it was in the cloud of misfortune that the energy of Mrs. Hull's character was most clearly shown. Governor Hull, having been appointed major general in the war of 1812, met with disasters which compelled his surrender and subjected him to suspicions of treason. His protracted trial and his defense belonged to history. His wife sustained these evils with a trustful serenity, hoping that the day would yet come when all doubt should be cleared away and her husband restored to public confidence. The loss of her son in battle was born with the same Christian fortitude. Her quiet, calm demeanor exhibited no trace of the suffering that had wrung her heart. She lived to see her hopes realized in the general's complete vindication and died in 1826 in less than a year from his decease. CHAPTER X Harriet Ackland The story of female heroism, fidelity and piety with which the name of Lady Harriet Ackland is associated is familiar to the readers of American history. To the fairer page where such examples of virtue are recorded we delight to turn from the details of military achievement. The presence that shed radiance on the sunny days of hope and success relieved and brightened the season of disaster. Her offices of mediation softened the bitterness of political animosity. The benevolent and conciliating efforts are known by which this heroine endeavored to settle differences that arose between the captive British soldiers and their conquerors at the time the troops were quartered at Cambridge after the surrender. Lady Harriet was the wife of Major Ackland, an officer in Burgoying's Army. She accompanied him to Canada in 1776 and in the disastrous campaign of the following year from Canada to Saratoga. Beautiful and admired as she was and accustomed to all the luxuries and refinements incident to rank and fortune her delicate frame ill-calculated to sustain the various hardships to be undergone she yet shrank not from her husband's perils and privations in traversing the dreary wilderness. When he lay ill at Chambley in a miserable hut her attention was assiduous in defiance of fatigue and discomfort. When he was wounded at Hubbardton she hastened from Montreal where she had at first persuaded to remain and crossed Lake Champlain resolved to leave him no more. Her vehicle of conveyance on the march of the army was part of the time a small two-wheeled tumble drawn by a single horse over roads almost impassable. The women followed in the rear of the artillery and baggage, but heard all the uproar in encounters with the enemy. On the advance of the army to Fort Edward the tent in which Lady Ackland lodged took fire the light being pushed over by a pet newfoundland dog and she and her husband made their escape with the utmost difficulty. But no hazards dissuaded the wife from her purpose. She was not only the ministering angel of him she loved so devotedly but won the admiration of the army by her amiable deportment continually making little presence to the officers belonging to his corps whenever she had anything among her store's worth acceptance and receiving in return every kind attention which could mitigate the hardship she had daily to encounter. As to risk. Bouguin's campaign, Thatcher's military journal and other authorities. Return to text. In the decisive action of the 7th of October Lady Ackland was again in the tumult of battle. During the heat of the conflict tortured by anxiety she took refuge among the wounded and dying. Her husband commanding the grenadiers was in the most exposed part of the battle and she awaited his fate in awful suspense. The baroness retaisal and the wives of two other field officers were her companions in apprehension. One of the officers was brought in wounded and the death of the other was announced. In the midst of the heart-rending scenes that followed intelligence came that the British army was defeated in that major Ackland was desperately wounded and a prisoner. The unhappy lady sustained by the counsels of her friend the baroness determined to join her husband in the American camp. She sent a message to General Bouguin through his aide de Gaulle Lord Petersham to ask permission to depart. The British commander was astonished at this application. He was ready to believe patience and fortitude most brightly displayed in the female character but he could hardly understand the courage of a woman who after suffering so long the agitation of suspense exhausted by want of rest and want of food was ready to brave the darkness of night and the drenching rain for many hours and to deliver herself to the enemy uncertain into what hand she might fall. The assistance I was able to give, he says, was small indeed. I had not even a cup of wine to offer her. All I could furnish was an open boat and a few lines written on dirty and wet paper to General Gates recommending her to his protection. How picturesque is the grouping of scenes we have at this point and how do women's strength of character and ardent affection shine amid the surrounding gloom, the army on its retreat, the sick and wounded abandoned to the mercy of the victors, the state of confusion following disasters so fatal to British power, the defeated general appealing in behalf of the suffering wife by his tribute written in haste and agitation to her grace and excellence and his expression of compassion for her hard fortune and her own forgetfulness of danger in hastening to her husband's aid. She obtained from the wife of a soldier the refreshment of a little spirits and water and set out in an open boat accompanied by the British chaplain Brudanel, her own waiting-maid in her husband's valet, who had been severely wounded in the search for his master when first missing from the field of battle. They went down the river during a violent storm of rain and wind and arrived at the American outposts in the night having suffered much from wet and cold. The sentinel of the advance guard heard the sound of oars and hailed the boat. What must have been his surprise to hear that a woman had braved the storm on such an errand? He sent for Major Dearborn, the officer of the guard, before he would permit the passengers to land. Major Dearborn invited Lady Acklin to his guard-house, offered her a cup of tea and every accommodation in his power and gave her the welcome intelligence of her husband's safety. In the morning she experienced the kindness of General Gates, who treated her with the tenderness of a parent bestowing every attention which her sex and circumstances required. She was conveyed under a suitable escort to the quarters of General Poir on the Heights to her wounded husband, and there remained till he was taken to Albany. Her resolution and devotion to him touched the feelings of the Americans and won the admiration of all who heard her story. It is related that Major Acklin showed his sense of the generous treatment he had received by doing all in his power while in New York on parole to alleviate the condition of American prisoners of distinction. After his return to England he lost his life in defense of American honor. At a dinner of military gentlemen a Lieutenant Lloyd threw out sneering remarks upon the alleged cowardice of the American troops. This was an indirect aspersion on the bravery of the unfortunate officers who had been taken captive with Burgoying's army and was felt undresented by Major Acklin. High words ensued and a duel was the consequence in which Acklin fell at the first fire. The shock of his death deprived Lady Harriet of reason and she remained two years in that sad condition. After her recovery she quitted the gay world and gave her hand to the Reverend Mr. Brudenell who had accompanied her on that gloomy night to the camp of General Gates. She survived him many years and died at an advanced age. The narrative of that celebrated campaign contains an anecdote of female compassion which though not connected with the subject of this notice may be properly mentioned here. Colonel Cochran having been sent to Canada as a spy his mission was suspected and a large bounty offered for his head. While there he was taken sick and knowing that he was suspected concealed himself for a few days in a brush heap within about two miles of the American lines unable to make his escape or even to walk. Having suffered much from his sickness and want of nourishment and having discovered a log cabin at considerable distance from the spot where he was concealed the only one in sight he crept to it on his hands and knees for the purpose of soliciting assistance. On his approach to the rear of the cabin he heard three men in earnest conversation and it happened that he was the subject of their discourse. Having heard of the heavy bounty offered for the Colonel and having seen a man in the vicinity a few days before answering the description of him they were forming their plans and expressing their determination to find his whereabouts and take him for the sake of the bounty. One of the men was the owner of the cabin. His wife was also present and the others were his brother and brother-in-law. Soon after this conversation the three men departed in pursuit. He crept into the cabin and frankly told the woman who seemed favorably impressed towards him on account of his almost helpless condition that he had overheard the conversation that he was the man of whom they were in search and that he should throw himself entirely upon her mercy trusting to her fidelity for protection. This she very kindly promised him to the utmost of her ability. Having received some restoratives which seemed to give relief and taken suitable nourishment he lay down on a bed in the room for the purpose of taking some repose. After the men had been absent about three hours they returned when she concealed him in a closet by the side of the fireplace and shut the door taking good care while the men were in the house to keep near it that if anything should be wanted from within she might be ready to get it herself. During the time the men were in the cabin they expressed much confidence in the belief that the Colonel was concealed somewhere in the vicinity and named many places in which they intended to look for him. Having taken some food and otherwise prepared themselves the men departed to renew their search. Soon after they retired the women not considering the Colonel's present situation safe proposed that he should conceal himself at some distance from the cabin where she might secretly bring him food and render such other assistance as he needed. She accordingly directed him to take post on a certain hill about half a mile distant where he might be able to discover any person's approach and to flee if he was able should it become necessary. He manifested an inclination to resume his former position in the brush heap which was in the midst of a patch of ground that had been cut over a fallow. But she told him her husband intended to burn it the next day and in that case he would certainly be discovered or perish in a conflagration. He then submitted entirely to her directions and crept along to the hill in the best way he could. He remained some time in this place of concealment undiscovered by anyone except this faithful Rahab of the forest who like a good Samaritan poured in the oil and wine until his strength was in a measure restored and he was enabled to return to his country and his home. Some years after the close of the war and while the Colonel lived at Ticonderoga he accidentally met with this kind-hearted woman whose name I have not been able to ascertain and rewarded her handsomely for her FIDALITY Chapter 11 HANA ERWIN ISRAEL About the close of the year 1777 while the Commander-in-Chief of the British forces was in possession of Philadelphia a foot passenger might have been seen on the road leading from Wilmington to that city. He was a young man of tall figure and powerful frame giving evidence of great muscular strength to which a walk of over thirty miles under ordinary circumstances would be a trifle. But the features of the traveller were darkened by anxiety and apprehension and it was more the over-tasking of the mind than the body which occasioned the weariness and lassitude under which he was plainly laboring. His dress was that of a simple citizen and he was enveloped in a large cloak affording ample protection against the severity of the weather as well as serving to conceal sundry parcels of provisions and a bag of money with which he was laden. It was long after dark before he reached the ferry but renewed hope and confidence filled his heart as he approached the termination of his journey. Sir William Howe, it will be remembered, had entered the capital towards the end of September after much maneuvering and several battles, Washington having made ineffectual efforts to prevent the accomplishment of his object. He was received with a welcome apparently cordial by the timid or interested citizens. His first care was to reduce the fortifications on the Delaware and remove the obstructions prepared by the Americans to prevent the British fleet from ascending the river. While Fort Mifflin at Mud Island and Fort Mercer at Red Bank were occupied by their garrisons, he could have no communication with his fleet and was in danger of being speedily compelled to evacuate the city. Count Donop, detached with the Hessian troops to take possession of the fort at Red Bank, was repulsed and mortally wounded. The invaders' fortune, however, triumphed and the Americans were finally driven from their posts. Their water force was compelled to retire from the fire of the batteries and the British at length gained free communication by way of the Delaware between their army and the shipping. Thus the reverses in New Jersey and Pennsylvania had cast a gloom over the country which could not be altogether dispelled even by the brilliant victories of Saratoga and the capture of Bill Going and his army. The condition of the American army when it retired into winter quarters at Valley Forge was deplorable enough to change hope into despair and presented truly a spectacle unparalleled in history. Absolute destitution held high court and never was the chivalric heroism of patriotic suffering more tangibly manifested than by that patriot band within those frail log huts that barely covered them from the falling snow or sheltered them from the keen wintery blasts. This privation of necessary food and clothing during one of the most rigorous winters ever experienced in the country, this misery, the detail of which is too familiar to need repetition, was endured by the continental soldiers at the same time that the English and the Metropolis were reveling in unrestrained luxury and indulgence. Asterisk. Marshall's manuscript journal says, December 28, 1777. Our affairs were a very gloomy aspect. Great part of our army gone into winter quarters. Those in camp wanting britches, shoes, stockings, and blankets, and by accounts brought yesterday were in want of flour. Our enemies reveling in balls attended with every degree of luxury and excess in the city, writing and wantingly using our houses, utensils, and furniture. All this and a numberless number of other abuses we endure from that handful of benditty to the amount of six or seven thousand men headed by that monster of rap in general how. Return to text. Many weak families meanwhile who remained in Philadelphia plundered and insulted by the soldiers, wanted the comforts of life, and received assistance clandestinely from their friends at a distance. To return to our narrative. When the traveler arrived at the ferry he was promptly hailed by the sentinel with, who goes there? A friend, was the reply. The counter sign. The counter sign for the night was promptly given. Pass, friend, said the soldier, and the other went on quickly. Israel was a native of Pennsylvania. He had left America at twenty-one for the island of Barbados, and by nine or ten years of patient industry had amassed considerable property. He returned rich to his native country, but in a few months after his marriage the war broke out and his whole fortune was lost or sacrificed by agents. He had resolved with his brother at the commencement of the struggle to take up arms in the cause of freedom. But the necessity was imperative that one should remain for the protection of the helpless females of the family and their entreaties not to be left exposed to a merciless enemy without a brother's aid at last prevailed. Israel and Joseph drew lots to determine which should become a soldier. The lot fell upon the younger and unmarried one. At this period the residence of Israel was on a small farm near Wilmington, Delaware. His mother had removed with her family to Philadelphia, her house at Newcastle being thought too much exposed in the vicissitudes of war. After the occupation of the capital by the British they endured severe hardships, sometimes suffering the want of actual necessaries. Israel watched over their welfare with incessant anxiety. The knowledge that his beloved ones were in want of supplies and that his presence was needed determined him to enter the city at this time, notwithstanding the personal hazard it involved. One of his Tory neighbors who professed the deepest sympathy for his feelings procured for him the counter-sign for the night. He had thus been enabled to elude the vigilance of the sentinel. When arrived at his mother's dwelling, Mr. Israel found that it was in possession of several soldiers quartered upon the family. Among them was a savage looking Hessian with aspect of itself quite enough to terrify timid women. But all annoyances and the fatigues of his long walk were forgotten in the joyful meeting. A still more pleasing surprise was reserved for him. His young brother Joseph was that very hour on a secret visit to the family. For some hours of the evening the household circle was once more complete. But such happiness in those times of peril was doomed to be short-lived. At eleven o'clock while the family were seated at supper the tramp of horses was heard without and the rough voices of soldiers clamored at the door. Within all was confusion and the terrified women entreated the brothers to fly. They followed the younger with frantic haste up the stairs where he left his uniform and made his escape from the roof of the house. The knocking and shouting continued below. Israel descended accompanied by the pale and trembling females and himself opened the door. The intruders rushed in. At their head was the Hessian sergeant who instantly seized the young man's arm exclaiming, We have caught him at last, the rebel rascal. Mr. Israel's presence of mind never foresook him under the most appalling circumstances. He was sensible of the immanence of his own danger and that his brother's safety could be secured only by delay. He shook off the grasp of the officer and calmly demanded what was meant and who it was that accused him of being a rebel. There he is, replied the Hessian pointing to Caesar, a slave Mr. Israel had brought from the West Indies and given his mother for a guard. The master fixed upon the negro his stern and penetrating look so steadfastly that Caesar trembled and hung his head. Dare you, Caesar, call me rebel, he exclaimed. Gentlemen! The muscles of his mouth worked into a sneer as he pronounced the word. There is some mistake here. My brother Joe is the person meant, I presume. Let me fetch the uniform and then you can judge for yourselves. Caesar, come with me. So saying and taking the black by the arm with a vice-like grip he led him upstairs. Not one word you rascal was whispered in his ear or I'll kill you upon the spot. The negro do his breath hard and convulsively but dared not speak. The uniform was produced and exhibited and Israel made efforts to put it on before his captors. The person whom it fitted being short and slight in figure, its ludicrous disproportion to the towering height and robust form of the elder brother convinced the soldiers of their mistake and the sergeant made awkward apologies, shaking the hand of the man he had so lately called a rebel, assuring him he had no doubt he was an honest and loyal subject and that he would take care his fidelity should be mentioned in the proper quarter. And now, he said, as your supper is ready we will sit down. He seated himself beside his host whose resentment of the familiarity was tempered by the thought that his brother was saved by the well-timed deceit. The ladies also were compelled to take their places and to listen in silence to the coarse remarks of their unwelcome guest. With rude protestations of goodwill and promises of patronage he mangled boastful details of his exploits and slaughtering the rebels that caused his auditors to shudder with horror. Mr. Israel used to relate afterwards that he grasped the knife he was using and raced it to strike down the savage but that his mother's look of agonized entreaty withheld the blow. The Hessian continued his recital accompanied by many bitter oath. The powerly affair, cried he, was capital. I was with General Gray in that attack. It was just after midnight when we forced the outpost and not a noise was heard so loud as the dropping of a musket. How the fellows turned out of their encampment when they heard us. What a running about! Barefoot and half clothed and in the light of their own fires. These showed us were to chase them while they could not see us. We killed three hundred of the rebels with the bayonet. I stuck them myself like so many pigs, one after another till the blood ran out of the touch-hole of my musket. The details of the Hessian were interrupted by Mr. Israel starting to his feet with face pale with rage convulsed lips and clenched hands. The catastrophe that might have ensued was prevented by a faint shriek from his young sister who fell into his arms in a swoon. The sergeant's horrible boastings thus silenced and the whole room in confusion he bade the family good-night saying he was on duty and presently quitted the house. The parting of those who had just gone through so agitating a scene was now to take place. Caesar was sternly questioned and reprimanded for his perfidy but the black excused himself by pleading that he had been compelled to do as he had done. For the future with streaming eyes he promised the strictest fidelity and to his credit be it said remained steadfast in the performance of this promise. Having bid adieu to his family Mr. Israel set forth on his journey homeward. He arrived only to be made a prisoner. The loyalist who had given him the counter sign had betrayed the secret of his expedition. He and his wife's brother were immediately seized and carried on board the frigate Robach lying in the Delaware a few miles from the then borough of Wilmington and directly opposite his farm in order to be tried as spies. Being one of the Committee of Safety the position of Mr. Israel under such an accusation was extremely critical. On board the ship he was treated with the utmost severity. His watch, silver shoebuckles and various articles of clothing were taken from him. His bed was a coil of ropes on deck without covering from the bitter cold of the night air and to all appearances his fate was already decided. The testimony of his Tory neighbors was strong against him. Several were ready to swear to the fact that while the loyal population of the country had willingly furnished their share of the provisions needed by the ships of war he had been heard to say repeatedly that he would sooner drive his cattle as a present to General Washington than receive thousands of dollars in British gold for them. On being informed of this speech the commander gave orders that a detachment of soldiers should proceed to drive the rebels cattle then grazing in a meadow in full view down to the river and slaughter them in the face of the prisoners. What meanwhile must have been the feelings of the young wife herself about to become a mother when her husband and brother were led away in her very sight. The farm was a mile or more from the river but there was nothing to intercept the view, the ground from the meadow sloping down to the water. Mrs. Israel was at this point about nineteen years of age and is described as of a middle height and slight but symmetrical figure, a fair complexion with clear blue eyes and dark hair, her manners modest and retiring. She was devoted to her family and her domestic concerns. It needed the trying scenes by which she was surrounded to develop the heroism which in times more peaceful might have been unmarked by those who knew her most intimately. From her position on the lookout she saw the soldiers land from the ships shoulder arms and advanced toward the meadow. In an instant she defined their purpose and her resolution was taken. With a boy eight years old whom she bad follow her at his utmost speed she started off determined to baffle the enemy and save the cattle at the peril of her life. Down went the bars and followed by the little boy she ran to drive the herd to the opening. The soldiers called out repeatedly to her to desist and threatened if she did not to fire upon her. Fire away! cried the heroic woman. They fired. The balls flew thickly around her. The frightened cattle ran in every direction over the field. This way, she called to the boy, nothing daunted. This way, Joe, hit them there. Stop them, Joe. Do not let one escape. And not one did escape. The bullets fired by the cowardly British soldiers continued to whistle around her person. The little boy, paralyzed by terror, fell to the ground. She seized him by the arm, lifted him over the fence and herself drove the cattle into the barnyard. The assailants, baffled by the courage of a woman and probably not daring for fear of the neighbors to invade the farmhouses, retraced their steps and returned disappointed to the ship. All this scene passed inside of the officers of the roebuck and the two prisoners. The agony of suspense and fear endured by the husband and brother when they saw the danger to which the wife exposed herself may be better imagined than described. It may also be conceived how much they exalted in her triumph. The trial was held on board the ship. The Tory witnesses were examined in due form, and it was but too evident that the lives of the prisoners were in great danger. A kind-hearted sailor sought an opportunity of speaking in a private with Mr. Israel and asked him if he were a freemason. The answer was in the affirmative. The sailor then informed him that a lodge was held on shipboard and the officers who belonged to it were to meet that night. The prisoners were called upon before their judges and permitted to answer to the accusations against them. Mr. Israel in bold but respectful language related his story and acknowledged his secret visit to Philadelphia, not in the character of a spy, but to carry relief to his suffering parent and her family. He also acknowledged having said, as was testified, that he would rather give his cattle to Washington or destroy the whole herd than sell them for British gold. This trait of magnanimity might not have been so appreciated by the enemies of his country as to operate in his favor, but that, watching his opportunity, he made to the commanding officer the secret sign of Masonic Brotherhood. The effect was instantly observable. The officer's stern countenance softened, his change of opinion and that of the other judges became evident, and after some further examination the court was broken up. The informants and those who had borne testimony against the prisoners hung their heads in shame at the severe rebuke of the court for their cowardly contact in betraying and preferring charges against an honorable man bound on a mission of love and duty to his aged mother. The acquitted prisoners were dismissed, loaded with presents of pins, handkerchiefs, and other articles not to be purchased at that time for the intrepid wife, and were sent on shore in a splendid barge as a mark of special honor from the officer in command. Such was the adventure in which the courage and patriotism of the subject of this notice was displayed. The records of the Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania, of which Mr. Israel was grand master for many years, bear testimony to his having been saved from an ignominious death by masonry. Mrs. Israel's family name was Irwin. Her ancestors were Quakers who came with Penn, her parents, Native Americans, and she herself was born in Wilmington, Delaware. Her first meeting with her husband was romantic enough. Mr. Israel had sailed in a soup or packet from Philadelphia to visit New Castle, where his mother and family resided. He observed on deck an extremely pretty girl, hardly seventeen years of age, and very neatly and tastefully dressed, with the finest turned foot and ankle in the world. All who went on such voyages were then obliged to furnish themselves with provisions, and his attention was drawn by the young girl's kindly distribution of her little stock, handing it about from one to another, till but little was left for her own portion. In passing him, she modestly hesitated a moment and then offered him a share. This led to conversation. He learned that she was the daughter of highly respectable parents and resided in Wilmington. Love at first sight was as common in those days as now. After seeing his mother, he visited Wilmington, became better acquainted, offered himself and was accepted, and on his marriage rented the farm above mentioned and commenced life anew. It may be proper to mention here that the castle from which the town of New Castle took its name was in very early days the property and residence of his ancestors. Subsequently he became the purchaser of the old castle, and removed the tiles that covered it with the vein that graced it to his country seat where part of them several hundred years old are still to be seen. Mr. Israel died in 1821 at the age of seventy-eight. The death of his wife took place at his country seat near Philadelphia at the age of fifty-six. She was the mother of thirteen children, many of whom died young, but two are now living and reside in Philadelphia. One of them is the accomplished lady herself the wife of a gallant officer thirty-five years engaged in the service of his country, from whom I received these particulars. To this glance at the condition of some of the citizens of Philadelphia at that time may be added a description from a lady's letter to her friend of the first entrance of the British army into the city. We had for a neighbor and an intimate acquaintance a very amiable English gentleman who had been in the British army and had left the service on marrying a rich and excellent lady of Philadelphia some years before. He endeavored to give my mother confidence that the inhabitants would not be ill-treated. He advised that we should be all well-dressed and that we should keep our houses closed. The army marched in and took possession of the town in the morning. We were upstairs and saw them pass to the State House. They looked well, clean and well-clad, and the contrast between them and our poor, barefooted and ragged troops was very great and caused a feeling of despair. It was a solemn and impressive day, but I saw no exaltation in the enemy, nor indeed in those who were reckoned favorable to their success. Early in the afternoon Lord Cornwallis's suite arrived and took possession of my mother's dwelling. But my mother was appalled by the numerous train in her house and shrank from having such inmates, for a guard was mounted at the door and the yard filled with soldiers and baggage of every description. And I well remember what we thought of the haughty looks of Lord Rodin and the other aide-de-con as they traversed the apartments. My mother desired to speak with Lord Cornwallis and he attended her in the front parlor. She told him of her situation and how impossible it would be for her to stay in her own house with such a train as composed his Lordship's establishment. He behaved with great politeness to her, said he should be sorry to give trouble and would have other quarters looked out for him. They withdrew that very afternoon and we felt glad of the exemption. But it did not last long, for directly the quarter-masters were employed in billeting the troops and we had to find room for two officers of artillery and afterwards in addition for two gentlemen, secretaries of Lord Howe. General Howe during the time he stayed in Philadelphia seized and kept for his own use Mary Pemberton's coach and horses in which he used to ride about the town. My wife says Marshall in his manuscript diary, February 14, 1778, looks upon every Philadelphian who comes to see us as a person suffering in a righteous cause and entitled to partake of our hospitality. Tradition has preserved in several families anecdotes illustrative of the straight to which even women and children were then reduced. One of Mary Redmond may be mentioned. She was the daughter of a patriot somewhat distinguished among his neighbors in Philadelphia. Many of her relatives were loyalists and she was playfully called among them the little black-eyed rebel. She was accustomed to assist several women whose husbands were in the American army to procure intelligence. The dispatches were usually sent from their friends by a boy who carried them stitched in the back of his coat. He came into the city bringing provisions to market. One morning when there was some reason to fear he was suspected and his movements watched by the enemy Mary undertook to get the papers and safety from him. She went as usual to the market and in a pretended game of roms threw her shawl over the boy's head and thus secured the prize. She hastened with the papers to her anxious friends, who read them by stealth after the windows had been carefully closed. When the news came of her going surrender and the wig women were secretly rejoicing, the sprightly girl, not daring to give vent openly to her exaltation, put her head up the chimney and gave a shout for gates. End of chapters 9, 10 and 11. Chapters 12 and 13 of the Women of the American Revolution Volume 1 by Elizabeth F. Ellett. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 12 Lydia Dara On the second day of December 1777, late in the afternoon, an officer in the British uniform ascended the steps of a house in Second Street, Philadelphia, immediately opposite the quarters occupied by General Howe who at that time had full possession of the city. The house was plain and neat in its exterior and well known to be tenanted by William and Lydia Dara members of the Society of Friends. It was the place chosen by the superior officers of the army for private conference whenever it was necessary to hold consultations on subjects of importance and select it perhaps on account of the unobtrusive character of its inmates, whose religion inculcated meekness and forbearance and forbade them to practice the arts of war. This anecdote is given in the first number of the American Quarterly Review and is said to be taken from Lydia's own narration. It is mentioned or alluded to by several other authorities and in letters written at the time. The story is familiar to many persons in Philadelphia who heard it from their parents so that there appears no reason to doubt its authenticity. The officer, who seemed quite familiar with the mansion, knocked at the door. It was opened and in the neatly furnished parlor he met the mistress who spoke to him calling him by name. It was the adjutant general and he appeared in haste to give an order. This was to desire that the back room above stairs might be prepared for the reception that evening of himself and friends who were to meet there and remain late. And be sure, Lydia, he concluded that your family are all in bed at an early hour. I shall expect you to attend to this request. When our guests are ready to leave the house I will myself give you notice that you may let us out and extinguish the fire and candles. Having delivered this order with an emphatic manner which showed that he relied much on the prudence and discretion of the person he addressed, the adjutant general departed. Lydia betook herself to getting all things in readiness. But the words she had heard, especially the injunction to retire early rang in her ears and she could not divest herself of the indefinable feeling that something of importance was in agitation. While her hands were busy in duties that devolved upon her, her mind was no less actively at work. The evening closed in and the officers came to the place of meeting. Lydia had ordered all her family to bed and herself admitted the guests after which she retired to her own apartment and threw herself without undressing upon the bed. But sleep refused to visit her eyelids. Her vague apprehensions gradually assumed more definite shape. She became more and more uneasy till her nervous restlessness amounted to absolute terror. Unable longer to resist the impulse, not of curiosity, but surely of a far higher feeling, she slid from the bed and taking off her shoes passed noiselessly from her chamber and along the entry. Approaching cautiously the apartment in which the officers were assembled she applied her ear to the keyhole. For a few moments she could distinguish but a word or two amid the murmur of voices. Yet what she did hear but stimulated her eager desire to learn the important secret of the conclave. At length there was a profound silence and a voice was heard reading a paper loud. It was an order for the troops to quit the city on the night of the fourth and march out to a secret attack upon the American army then encamped at White Marsh. Lydia had heard enough. She retreated softly to her own room and laid herself quietly on the bed. In the deep stillness that reigned through the house she could hear the beating of her own heart, the heart now throbbing with emotions to which no speech could give utterance. It seemed to her that but a few moments had elapsed when there was a knocking at her door. She knew well what the signal meant but took no heed. It was repeated and more loudly. Still she gave no answer. Again and yet more loudly the knocks were repeated and then she rose quickly and opened the door. It was the adjutant general who came to inform her they were ready to depart. Lydia let them out, fastened the house and extinguished the lights and fire. Again she returned to her chamber and to bed but repose was a stranger for the rest of the night. Her mind was more disquieted than ever. She thought of the danger that threatened the lives of thousands of her countrymen and of the ruin that impended over the whole land. Something must be done in that immediately to avert this widespread destruction. Should she awaken her husband and inform him? That would be to place him in special jeopardy by rendering him a partaker of her secret and he might too be less wary and prudent than herself. No, come what might, she would encounter the risk alone. After a petition for heavenly guidance her resolution was formed and she waited with composure though sleep was impossible till the dawn of day. Then she waked her husband and informed him flower was wanted for the use of the household and that it was necessary she should go to Frankfurt to procure it. This was no uncommon occurrence and her declining the attendance of the maid servant excited little surprise. Taking the bag with her she walked through the snow, having stopped first at headquarters, obtained access to General Howe and secured his written permission to pass the British lines. The feelings of a wife and mother, one whose religion was that of love and whose life was what a quiet round of domestic duties, bound on an enterprise so hazardous and uncertain whether her life might not be forfeit, may be better imagined than described. Lydia reached Frankfurt distant four or five miles and deposited her bag at the mill. Now commenced the dangers of her undertaking, for she pressed forward with all haste towards the outposts of the American army. Her determination was to apprise General Washington of the danger. She was met on her way by an American officer who had been selected by General Washington to gain information respecting the movements of the enemy. According to some authorities this was Lieutenant Colonel Craig of the Light Horse. He immediately recognized her and inquired whether she was going. In reply she prayed him to a light and walk with her which he did ordering his men to keep in sight. To him she disclosed the secret after having obtained from him a solemn promise not to betray her individually since the British might take vengeance on her and her family. The officer thanked her for her timely warning and directed her to go to a house near at hand where she might get something to eat. But Lydia preferred returning at once and did so while the officer made all haste to the commander-in-chief. Preparations were immediately made to give the enemy a fitting reception. With a heart lightened and filled with thankfulness the intrepid woman pursued her way homeward carrying the bag of flour which had served as the ostensible object of her journey. None suspected the grave demure quakress of having snatched from the English their anticipated victory. Her demeanor was as usual quiet, orderly and subdued and she attended to the duties of her family with her wanted composure. But her heart beat as late on the appointed night she watched from her window the departure of the army on what secret expedition bound she knew too well. She listened breathlessly to the sound of their footsteps and the trampling of horses till it died away in the distance and silence reigned through the city. Time never appeared to pass so slowly as during the interval which elapsed between the marching out and the return of the British troops. When at last the distant roll of the drum proclaimed their approach when the sounds came nearer and nearer and Lydia who was watching at the window saw the troops pass in martial order the agony of anxiety she felt was too much for her strength and she retreated from her post not daring to ask a question or manifest the least curiosity as to the event. A sudden and loud knocking at her door was not calculated to lessen her apprehensions. She felt that the safety of her family depended on herself possession at this critical moment. The visitor was the adjutant general who summoned her to his apartment. With a pale cheek but composed for she placed her trust in a higher power Lydia obeyed the summons. The officer's face was clouded in his expression stern. He locked the door with an air of mystery when Lydia entered and motioned her to a seat. After a moment of silence he said, Were any of your family up, Lydia, on the night when I received company in this house? No, was the unhesitating reply. They all retired at eight o'clock. It is very strange, said the officer and mused a few minutes. You I know Lydia were asleep for I knocked at your door three times before you heard me. Yet it is certain that we were betrayed. I am altogether at a loss to conceive who could have given the information of our intended attack to General Washington. On arriving near his encampment we found his cannon mounted his troops under arms and so prepared at every point to receive us that we have been compelled to march back without injuring our enemy like a parcel of fools. It is not known whether the officer ever discovered to whom he was intended for the disappointment. But the pious Quakerus blessed God for her preservation and rejoiced that it was not necessary for her to utter an untruth in her own defence. And all who admire examples of courage and patriotism, especially those who enjoy the fruits of them, must honour the name of Lydia Dara. CHAPTER XIII REBECCA FRANKS The celebrated Miss Franks, so distinguished for intelligence and high accomplishment in revolutionary times, could not properly be passed over in a series of notices of remarkable women of that period. In the brilliant position she occupied in fashionable society she exerted, as may well be believed, no slight influence. For wit and beauty are potent champions in any cause by which they choose to arm themselves. That her talents were generally employed on the side of humanity and justice, that the pointed shafts of her wit which spared neither friend nor foe were aimed to chastise presumption and folly. We may infer from the amiable disposition which it is recorded she possessed. Admired in fashionable circles, and courted for the charms of her conversation, she must have found many opportunities of exercising her feminine privilege of softening asperities and alleviating suffering, as well as of humbling the arrogance of those who military success rendered regardless of the feelings of others. Though a decided loyalist her satire did not spare those whose opinions she favored. It is related of her that at a splendid ball given by the officers of the British Army to the ladies of New York, she ventured one of those jets frequently uttered which must have been severely felt in the faint prospect that existed of a successful termination to the war. During an interval of dancing Sir Henry Clinton previously engaged in conversation with Miss Franks called out to the musicians, give us Britain's strike home. The commander-in-chief exclaimed she has made a mistake. He meant to say, Britain's go home. The keenness of her irony and her readiness at repartee were not less promptly shown in sharp tilting with the American officers. At the festival of the Miss Kienza where even wig ladies were present, Miss Franks had appeared as one of the princesses. She remained in Philadelphia after its evacuation by the British troops. Lieutenant Colonel Jack Stewart of Maryland dressed in a fine suit of scarlet took an early occasion to pay his compliments and gallantly said, I have adopted your cutters, my princess, the better to secure a courteous reception. Dane to smile on a true night. To this covert taunt Miss Franks made no reply, but turning to the company who surrounded her exclaimed, how the ass glories in the lion's skin. The same officer met with another equally severe rebuff while playing with the same weapons. The conversation of the company was interrupted by a loud clamor from the street which caused them to hasten to the windows. High headdresses were then the reigning fashion among the English bells. A female appeared in the street surrounded by a crowd of idlers, ragged in her apparel and barefoot, but adorned with a towering headdress in the extreme of the mode. Miss Franks readily perceived the intent of this pageant, and on the Lieutenant Colonel's observing that the woman was equipped in the English fashion replied, not all together Colonel, for though the style of her head is British, her shoes and stockings are in the genuine continental fashion. Asterisk. Garden. Many anecdotes of her quick and brilliant wit are extant in the memory of individuals, and many sarcastic speeches attributed to her have been repeated. It is represented that her information was extensive and that few were qualified to enter the list with her. General Charles Lee in the humorous letter he addressed to her, a jus d'esprit she has said to have received with serious anger, calls her, a lady who has had every human and divine advantage. Rebecca Franks was the daughter and youngest child of David Franks, a Jewish merchant who immigrated to this country about a century since. He married an English woman before coming to America and had three sons and two daughters. The eldest daughter married Andrew Hamilton, brother to the well-known proprietor of the Woodlands. After the termination of the war, Rebecca married General Henry Johnson, a British officer of great merit, and accompanied him to England. He distinguished himself by some act of gallantry in one of the outbreaks of rebellion in Ireland and received the honor of knighthood. Their residence was at bath where their only surviving son still lives. The other son was killed at the Battle of Waterloo. The lady who furnished the above details informed me that her brother was entertained in 1810 at Lady Johnson's house in Bath where she was living in elegant style and exercising with characteristic grace the duties of hospitality and the virtues that adorn social life. He described her as a person of the middle height, rather inclined to en bon point, and her expression of countenance as very agreeable with fine eyes. Her manners were frank and cheerful and she appeared happy in contributing to the happiness of others. Sir Henry was at that time living. It is said that Lady Johnson not long after this period expressed to a young American officer her penitence for her formatorialism and her pride and pleasure in the victories of her countrymen on the Niagara frontier in the war of 1812. It has been remarked that favorable sentiments towards the Americans are general among loyalists residing in England, while on the other hand the political animosity of revolutionary times is still extant in the British American colonies. A loyal spinster of four score residing in one of these went on a visit to one of her friends some two years since, saw on the walls among several portraits of distinguished men a print of the traitor Washington. She was so much troubled at the sight that her friend to appease her ordered it to be taken down and put away during her visit. A story is told also of a gentleman high in office in the same colony on whom an agent of the New York Albion called to deliver the portrait of Washington which the publisher that year presented to his subscribers. The gentleman highly insulted ordered the astonished agent to take the blank thing out of his sight and to strike his name instantly from the list. Miss Franks it has been mentioned was one of the princesses of the Miss Chianza. This Italian word signifying a medley or mixture was applied to an entertainment or a series of entertainments given by the British officers in Philadelphia as a parting compliment to Sir William Howe just before his relinquishment of command to Sir Henry Clinton and departure to England. Some of his enemies called it his triumph on leaving America unconquered. A description of this singular fact may be interesting to many readers. I therefore abridge one written it is said by Major Andre for an English ladies magazine. I have seen a facsimile of the tickets issued in a volume of American historical and literary curiosities. The names are in a shield on which is a view of the sea with the setting sun and on a wreath the words Luchio Descendens Acto splendore risergam. At the top is General Howe's crest with the words Vive Valley. Around the shield runs a vignette and various military trophies fill up the background. The entertainment was given on the 18th of May 1778. It commenced with a grand regatta in three divisions. In the first was the ferret galley on board of which were several general officers and ladies. In the center the Hazar galley bore Sir William and Lord Howe, Sir Henry Clinton, their suite and many ladies. The Cornwallis galley brought up the rear. General Nifhausen and suite, three British generals and ladies being on board. On each quarter of these galleys and forming their division were five flat boats lined with green cloth and filled with ladies and gentlemen. In front were three flat boats with bands of music. Six barges wrote about each flank to keep off the swarm of boats in the river. The galleys were dressed in colors and streamers. The ships lying at anchor were magnificently decorated and the transport ships with colors flying which extended and aligned the whole length of the city were crowded as well as the wharves with spectators. The rendezvous was at Night's Wharf on the northern extremity of the city. The company embarked at half past four, the three divisions moving slowly down to the music. Arrived opposite Market Wharf at a signal all rested on their oars and the music played God Save the King, answered by three cheers from the vessels. The landing was at the old fort, a little south of the town and in front of the building prepared for the company, a few hundred yards from the water. This regatta was gazed at from the wharves and warehouses by all the uninvited population of the city. When the general's barge pushed for shore, a salute of seventeen guns was fired from his Majesty's ship, Roebuck, and after an interval, seventeen from the vigilant. The procession advanced through an avenue formed by two files of grenadiers each supported by a line of light horse. The avenue led to a spacious lawn lined with troops and prepared for the exhibition of a tilt and tournament. The music and managers with favors of white and blue ribbons in their breasts led the way followed by the generals and the rest of the company. In front, the building bounded the view through a vista formed by two triumphal archers in a line with the landing-place. The pavilions, with rows of benches rising one above another, received the ladies, while the gentlemen ranged themselves on each side. On the front seat of each pavilion were seven young ladies as princesses in Turkish habits and, wearing in their turbans, the favors meant for the knights who contended. The sound of trumpets was heard in the distance and a band of knights in ancient habits of white and red silk mounted on gray horses, comparisoned in the same colors attended by squires on foot, heralds, and trumpeters entered the lists. Lord Cathcart was chief of these knights and appeared in honor of Miss Akmati. One of his esquires bore his lance and other his shield, and two black slaves in blue and white silk with silver clasps on their bare neck and arms held his stirrups. The band made the circuit of the square saluting the ladies and then ranged themselves in a line with the pavilion in which were the ladies of their device. Their herald, after a flourish of trumpets, proclaimed a challenge, asserting the superiority of the ladies of the blended rose in wit, beauty, and accomplishment, and offering to prove it by deeds of arms according to the ancient laws of chivalry. At the third repetition of the challenge another herald and trumpeters advanced from the other side of the square, dressed in black and orange, and proclaimed defiance to the challengers in the name of the knights of the burning mountain. Captain Watson the chief appeared in honor of Miss Franks, his device, a heart with a wreath of flowers, his motto, love and glory. This band also rode round to the list and drew up in front of the white knights. The gauntlet was thrown down and lifted. The encounter took place. After the fourth encounter the two chiefs, spurring to the center, fought singly till the marshal of the field rushed between and declared that the ladies of the blended rose and the burning mountain were satisfied with the proofs of love and valor already given and commanded their knights to desist. The bands then filed off in different directions, saluting the ladies as they approached the pavilions. The company then passed in processions through triumphal arches built in the Tuscan order to a garden in front of the building, and then ascended to a spacious hall painted an imitation of Sienna marble. In this hall and apartment adjoining were tea and refreshments, and the knights, kneeling, received their favors from the ladies. On entering the room appropriated for the pharaoh table a cornucopia was seen filled with fruit and flowers. Another appeared in going out, shrunk, reversed and empty. The next advance was to a ballroom painted in pale blue, paneled with gold with drooping festoons of flowers, the survey's pink with drapery festooned in blue. Eighty-five mirrors decked with flowers and ribbons reflected the light from thirty-four branches of wax lights. On the same floor were four drawing rooms with sideboards of refreshments also decorated and lighted up. The dancing continued till ten. The windows were then thrown open, and the fireworks commenced with a magnificent bouquet of rockets. At twelve large folding doors which had hitherto been concealed were suddenly thrown open, discovering a splendid and spacious saloon richly painted and brilliantly illuminated. The mirrors and branches decorated as also the supper table, which was set out according to Major André's account, with four hundred and thirty covers and twelve hundred dishes. When supper was ended the herald and trumpeters of the blended rows entered the saloon and proclaimed the health of the king and royal family, followed by that of the knights and ladies, each toast being accompanied by a flourish of music. The company then returned to the ballroom, and the dancing continued till four o'clock. This was the most splendid entertainment ever given by officers to their general. The next day the mirrors and lusters borrowed from the citizens were sent home with their ornaments. The pageant of a night was over. Sir William Howe departed. The folly and extravagance displayed were apparent not only to the foes of Britain. It is said that an old Scotch officer of artillery when asked if he would be surprised at an attack from General Washington during the festivities of the day replied, If Mr. Washington possesses the wisdom and sound policy I have ever attributed to him he will not meddle with us at such a time. The excesses of the present hour are to him equivalent to a victory. It is interesting to contrast the situation of the two hostile armies at this time and to follow the destiny of the revelers. When the alliance was concluded between France and America it was determined in Great Britain immediately to evacuate Philadelphia and concentrate the royal forces in the city and harbor of New York. In one month knights and army marched from the city they had occupied. Major Andre represented as a charm of the company who had aided in painting the decorations and illustrated the pageant by his pen went forth to mingle engraver scenes. General Wayne writes on the 12th of July tell those Philadelphia ladies who attended house assemblies and levies that the heavenly sweet pretty red coats the accomplished gentlemen of the guards and grenadiers have been humbled on the plains of Monmouth. The knights of the blended roses and of the burning mount have resigned their laurels to rebel officers who will lay them at the feet of those virtuous daughters of America who cheerfully gave up ease and affluence in a city for liberty and peace of mind in a cottage. But the empire of beauty was not to be overthrown by political changes. The bells who had graced the fate found the reproach cast on them by indignant patriots speedily forgotten. When the Americans on their return to the capital gave a ball to their own and the French officers and it was debated whether the ladies of the Miskianza should be honored with invitations the question was soon decided by the reflection that it would be impossible to make up an agreeable company without them. He was a native of Scotland, distinguished as a physician in the city, and for some time was colonial collector of the port. He married Anne, the daughter of Sir William Keith, then governor of Pennsylvania. More than thirty years before the revolution, when these premises were occupied by Governor Thomas, the fruit trees, garden, and shrubbery often allured the townsfolk to extend their walks thither. The youth of that day were frequently indebted to the kindness of the governor's lady who invited them to help themselves from a long range of cherry trees, and when May Day came the young girls were treated to bouquets and wreaths from the gardens. After the death of Dr. Graham in 1772 the property passed successively into different hands. In time of the war the house was appropriated for the use of the sick American soldiery who died there in hundreds of the camp fever. The sufferers were supplied with nourishment by the ladies of Philadelphia, and General Washington himself sent them a cask of madera which he had received as a present from Robert Morris. The mansion was the scene moreover of a most touching spectacle on one occasion when a mother of a youth from the country came to seek her son among the dead in the hospital. While mourning over him as lost to her forever she discerned science of life and ere long he was restored to consciousness in her arms. Hasterisk. See Watson's Annals of Philadelphia. Return to text. While occupied by Dr. Graham the house was long rendered attractive and celebrated not only by his exuberant hospitality but by the talents and accomplishments of his youngest daughter. She was the center of the literary coteries of that day who were accustomed to meet at her father's residence. Even in early life she discovered a mind richly endowed with intellectual gifts. These were cultivated with care by her excellent and accomplished mother. She was born in 1739. In her youth she passed much time in study for which and the cultivation of her poetical talents opportunities were afforded in the pleasant retreat where her parents spent their summers. Graham Park in Montgomery country twenty miles from Philadelphia. It is said that the translation of Telemachus into English verse the manuscript volumes of which are in the Philadelphia library was undertaken by Elizabeth Graham as a relief and diversion of her mind from the suffering occasioned by disappointment and love. After this the failure of her health induced her father to send her to Europe. Her mother who had long been declining wished her much to go and for a reason as singular as it is touching. Asterisk C. Hazard's Pennsylvania Register volume three page three ninety four for a memoir Mrs. Ferguson first published in the portfolio from which are derived these particulars of her personal history. Some of her letters appeared in the portfolio. Return to text. She believed the time of her death to be at hand and felt that the presence of her beloved daughter prevented that exclusive fixing of her thoughts and affections upon heavenly things which in her last hours she desired. This distrust of the heart is not an uncommon feeling. Archbishop Lightfoot wished to die separated from his home and family. A mother some years ago in her last moment said to her daughter who sat weeping at her bedside. Leave me my child. I cannot die while you are in the room. Something of the same feeling is shown in an extract from one of Mrs. Graham's letters written to be delivered after her death. My trust, she says, is in my heavenly Father's mercies procured and promised by the all-sufficient merits of my blessed Saviour so that whatever time it may be before you see this or whatever weakness I may be under on my deathbed be assured this is my faith. This is my hope from my youth up until now. Mrs. Graham died as she expected during the absence of her daughter but left two farewell letters to be delivered on her return. These contained advice respecting her future life in the relations of wife and mistress of a household and the most ardent expressions of maternal affection. Elizabeth remained a year in England under the guardianship of the Reverend Dr. Richard Peters of Philadelphia whose position enabled him to introduce her into the best society. She was sought for in literary circles, attracted the attention of distinguished persons by her mental accomplishments and was particularly noticed by the British monarch. The celebrated Dr. Fothergill whom she consulted as a physician was during his life her friend and correspondent. Her return to Philadelphia was welcomed by a numerous circle of friends who came to condole with her upon her mother's death and to testify their affectionate remembrance of herself. The stores of information gained during her visit to Great Britain where she had been all eye, all ear and all grasp were dispensed for the information and entertainment of those she loved. She now occupied the place of her mother and her father's family managing the house and presiding in the entertainment of his visitors. During several years of their winter residence in the city Saturday evenings were appropriated for the reception of their friends and strangers who visited Philadelphia with introductions to the family of Dr. Graham. The mansion was in fact the headquarters of literature and refinement and the hospitality of its owner rendered it an agreeable resort. Ms. Graham was the presiding genius. Her brilliant intellect, her extensive and varied knowledge, her vivid fancy and cultivated taste offered attractions which were enhanced by the charm of her graceful manners. It was at one of these evening assemblies that she first saw Hugh Henry Ferguson, a young gentleman lately arrived in the country from Scotland. They were pleased with each other at the first interview being congenial in literary tastes and a love of retirement. The marriage took place in a few months notwithstanding that Ferguson was ten years younger than Ms. Graham. Not long after this event her father died having bequeathed to his daughter the country's sedentary Montgomery County on which she and her husband continued to reside. The happiness anticipated by Mrs. Ferguson in country's occlusion and her books was of brief duration. The disc contents were increasing between Great Britain and America which resulted in the war of independence. It was necessary for Mr. Ferguson to take part with one or the other and he decided according to the prejudices natural to his birth by espousing the royal cause. From this time a separation took place between him and Mrs. Ferguson. Her connection with certain political transactions exposed her for a time to much censure and mortification. But there is no reason to doubt the sincerity of her declarations with regard to the motives that influenced her conduct. Many of her unobtrusive charities testified to her sympathy with her suffering countrymen. She not only visited the cottages in her neighborhood with supplies of clothing, provisions or medicines for the inmates but while General Howe had possession of Philadelphia she sent a quantity of linen into the city spun with her own hands and directed it to be made into shirts for the benefit of the American prisoners taken at the battle of Germantown. Another instance of her benevolence is characteristic. On hearing in one of her visits to the city that a merchant had become reduced and having been imprisoned for debt was suffering from aught of the comforts of life she sent him a bed and afterwards visited him in prison and put twenty dollars into his hands. She refused to inform him who was his benefactor but it was discovered by his description of her person and dress. At this time her annual income it is said was reduced to a very limited sum. Many other secret acts of charity performed at the expense of her personal and habitual comforts were remembered by her friends and many instances of her sensibility and tender sympathy with all who suffered. Her husband being engaged in the British service she was favored by the loyalists while treated with respect at the same time by the other party as an American lady who occupied a high social position. Asterisk. The reader is referred to the life and correspondence of President Reid by his grandson William B. Reid, Volume 1, Page 381. Mrs. Ferguson's letters are there quoted with her narrative at length. Return to text. It was natural that she should be in some measure influenced by attachment to the old order of things and a respect for the civil institutions she had been accustomed to venerate while her desire for the good of her countrymen led to ardent wishes that the desolations and miseries she witnessed might cease. It is said she often wept over newspapers containing details of suffering. The sensibility that could not bear to look on the woes even of the brute creation must have been severely tried by the daily horrors of civil war. It is not surprising therefore that she should be eager to seize any opportunity that offered of being instrumental in ending them. Immediately after the British took possession of Philadelphia, Mrs. Ferguson was the bearer of a letter from the Reverend Mr. Duchet to General Washington, which greatly displeased him, causing him to express to her his disapprobation of the intercourse she seemed to have held with the writer and his expectation that it should be discontinued. At a later period she came again to Philadelphia under a pass granted her by the commander-in-chief for the purpose of taking leave of her husband. She was at the house of her friend Charles Steadman, which chanced to be the place appointed for the residence of Governor Johnston, one of the commissioners sent under parliamentary authority to settle the differences between Great Britain and America. She was in company with him three times, the conversation being general on the first two occasions. His declarations, she says, were so warm in favor of American interests that she looked upon him as really a friend to her country. He wished, since he could not himself be permitted to pass the lines, to find some person who would step forward and act a mediatorial part by suggesting something to stop the effusion of blood likely to ensue if the war were carried on. Mrs. Ferguson said repeatedly that she believed the sentiment of the people to be in favor of independence. I am certain, were her words in the last conversation on the subject, that nothing short of independence will be accepted. Yet it does not appear that her own views were averse to a reunion of the two countries. Governor Johnston then expressed a particular anxiety for the influence of General Reid, and requested Mrs. Ferguson, if she should see him, to convey the idea that provided he could come formably to his conscience and view of things, exert his influence to settle the dispute, he might command ten thousand guineas and the best post in the government. In reply to Mrs. Ferguson's question, if Mr. Reid would not look upon such a motive of obtaining his influence as a bribe, Johnston immediately disclaimed any such idea, said such a method of proceeding was common in all negotiations, and that one might honorably make it a man's interest to step forth in such a cause. She, on her part, expressed her conviction that if Mr. Reid thought it right to give up the point of independence, he would say so without fee or reward. And if he were of a different opinion, no pecuniary emolument would lead him to give a contrary vote. Mr. Johnston did not see the matter in this light. A day or two after this communication was suggested, Mrs. Ferguson sent by a confidential messenger a note to General Reid at headquarters, requesting an hour's conversation previous to her going to Lancaster on business and desiring him to fix a place where she could meet him without the necessity of passing through the camp. She stated that the business on which she wished to confer with him could not be committed to writing. The note was received on the 21st of June after General Reid's arrival in the city which had been evacuated three days before by the British. He sent word by the bear that he would wait upon Mrs. Ferguson the same evening. At this interview, the conversation treating of Governor Johnston's desire of settling matters upon an amicable footing and his favorable sentiments towards Mr. Reid, General Reid mentioned that he had received a letter from him at Valley Forge. Mrs. Ferguson then repeated in all its particulars the conversation that had passed at the house of Mr. Steadman. Her repetition of the proposition of Governor Johnston brought from General Reid the prompt and noble reply, I am not worth purchasing, but such as I am, the king of Great Britain is not rich enough to do it. General Reid laid before Congress both the written and verbal communications of Governor Johnston, withholding however the name of the lady from motives of delicacy and reluctance to draw down popular indignation upon her. An account of the transaction was also published in the papers of the day. It was useless to attempt concealment of her name, suspicion was at once directed to her, and her name was called for by a resolution of the Executive Council of Pennsylvania. As to risk, the attempt through the wife of a loyalist to bribe a member of Congress to aid in uniting the colonies to the mother country proved of incalculable service in recalling the doubting and irresolute wigs to a sense of duty. The story and the noble reply were repeated from mouth to mouth, and from the hour it was known the wigs had won, the Tories lost the future empire. Sabine's American loyalists. Return to text. Congress issued a declaration condemning the daring and atrocious attempts made to corrupt their integrity, and declaring it incompatible with their honor to hold any manner of correspondence with the said George Johnston. As may be imagined, disagreeable consequences ensued, which were severely felt by Mrs. Ferguson. As soon as she saw the article in the town's evening post which reached her at Graham Park, July 26, 1778, she addressed a letter of remonstrance to General Reed, bitterly complaining of having been exhibited in the newspapers as a mere amissary of the commissioners. I own, I find it hard, she says, knowing the uncorruptness of my heart to be held out to the public as a tool to the commissioners. But the impression is now made, and it is too late to recall it. How far at this critical juncture of time this affair may injure my property is uncertain. That, I assure you, is but a secondary thought. Asterisk. Letter published in the Remembrancer, Volume 6. Return to Text. It appears evident that Mrs. Ferguson did not act this part in any expectation of deriving advantage for herself. Her associations and connections being chiefly with the royalists, it was natural that her opinion should be influenced by theirs. But her desire for the good of the country was undoubtedly disinterested. After the return of Governor Johnston to England, he ventured to deny the charge preferred in the resolution of Congress by a letter published in Rivington's Gazette. And in a speech in November in the House of Commons, boldly asserted the falsehood of the statement made by General Reed. His denial no sooner reached America than Mrs. Ferguson, anxious that justice should be done to all parties, published her narrative of the transaction confirmed by her oath. The excellence of the motives which had actuated her in consenting to act as Johnston's confidential agent is sufficiently apparent in the spirit she now exhibited. Among the many mortifying insinuations that have been hinted on the subject, none has so sensibly affected me as an intimation that some thought I acted apart, in consequence of certain expectations of a post, or some preferment for Mr. Johnston to be conferred on the person dearest to me on earth. On that head I shall say no more, but leave it to any person of common sense to determine, if I had any views of the kind, whether I should in so full and solemn a manner, call in question what Mr. Johnston has asserted in the House of Commons. A proceeding of this kind must totally exclude all avenues of favour from that quarter, were there ever any expected, which I solemnly declare never was the case. If this account should ever have the honour to be glanced over by the eye of Governor Johnston, I know not in what medium he may view it. It is possible that the multiplicity of ideas which may be supposed to pass through the brain of a politician in the course of a few months, may have jostled the whole transaction out of his memory. Should this be the case, insignificant and contemptible as I may appear to him, I believe there are two or three people in Britain who will venture to tell him, in all his plenitude of power, that they believe I would not set my hand to an untruth. Mrs. Ferguson's poetical talent has been mentioned. Her verses were said to possess vigor and measure but to lack melody, while her prose writings indicated both genius and knowledge. She was well-read in polemical divinity and a firm believer in the doctrines of Revelation. She is said to have transcribed the whole Bible to impress its contents more deeply upon her mind, hence the facility with which she would select appropriate passages to illustrate or adorn the subjects of her writings or conversation. She had no children, but adopted the son and daughter of one of her sisters who on her deathbed committed them to her care. The nephew, an accomplished scholar and gentleman, was till his death a lieutenant in the British army. The talents and attainments of Mrs. Ferguson, her virtues elevated and invigorated by Christian faith, her independence and integrity of character, and her benevolent feeling for others, endeared her name to a large circle of friends. Yet her life appears to have been one darkened by sorrow. In her later years the reduction of her income diminished her means of usefulness, but she would not permit any privations to which she found it necessary to submit to be a source of unhappiness. She died at the house of a friend near Graham Park on the 23rd of February, 1801, in the sixty-second year of her age. Chapter 15 Mary Phillips In 1756, Colonel George Washington, then commander in chief of the Virginia forces, had some difficulties concerning rank with an officer holding a royal commission. He found it necessary to communicate with General Shirley, the commander-in-chief of his Majesty's armies in America, and for this purpose left his headquarters at Winchester and traveled to Boston on horseback attended by his aide-de-camp. On his way he stopped in some of the principal cities. The military fame he had gained and the story of his remarkable escape at Braddock's defeat excited general curiosity to see the brave young hero, and great attention was paid to him. While in New York, says his biographer, Mr. Sparks, he was entertained at the house of Mr. Beverly Robinson, between whom and himself an intimacy of friendship subsisted, which indeed continued without change till severed by their opposite fortunes twenty years afterwards in the Revolution. It happened that Miss Mary Phillips, a sister of Mrs. Robinson and a young lady of rare accomplishments, was an inmate in the family. The charms of this lady made a deep impression upon the heart of the Virginia Colonel. He went to Boston, returned, and was again welcomed to the hospitality of Mrs. Robinson. He lingered there till duty called him away, but he was careful to entrust his secret to a confidential friend whose letters kept him informed of every important event. In a few months intelligence came that a rival was in the field and that the consequences could not be answered for if he delayed to renew his visits to New York. Washington could not at this time leave his post, however deeply his feelings may have been interested in securing the favor of the fair object of his admiration. The fact that his friend thought fit to communicate thus repeatedly with him upon the subject does not favor the supposition that his regard was merely a passing fancy, or that the bustle of camp life or the scenes of war had a face to her image from his heart. Mr. Sparks assures me that the letters referred to which were from a gentleman connected with the Robinson family, though playful in their tone, were evidently written under the belief that an attachment existed on Washington's part and that his happiness was concerned. How far the demonstrations of this attachment had gone it is now impossible to ascertain, nor whether Miss Phillips had discouraged the Colonel's attention so decidedly as to preclude all hope. The probability is, however, that he despaired of success. He never saw her again till after her marriage with Captain Roger Morris, the rival of whom he had been warned. Mary Phillips was the daughter of the Honorable Frederick Phillips, Speaker of the Assembly. He was lord of the old manor of Phillips borough and owned an immense landed estate on the Hudson. Mary was born at the manor hall on the 3rd of July 1730. No particulars relating to her early life can be given by her relatives, but the tradition is that she was beautiful, fascinating, and accomplished. Her lady now living in New York who knew her after she became Mrs. Morris and had visited her at her residence near the city tells me that she was one of the most elegant women she had ever seen and that her manors, uniting dignity with affability, charmed everyone who knew her. The rumor of Washington's former attachment was then current and universally believed. Her house was the resort of many visitors at all seasons. She removed to New York after her marriage in 1758 with Roger Morris who was a Captain in the British Army in the French War and one of Braddock's aide-de-con. A part of the Phillips estate came by right of his wife into his possession and was taken from him by confiscation in punishment for his loyalism. Mrs. Morris was included in the attainder that the whole interest might pass under the act. Asterisk. The authentic facts relating to Captain Morris and Colonel Robinson and to their wives have been preserved by Mr. Sabine and his American loyalists. He visited the relatives of the family in New Brunswick. Return to text. The rights of her children however as time showed were not affected and the reversionary interest was sold by them to John Jacob Astor. The descendants of Mrs. Robinson, the sister of Mary Morris, speak of her with warm praise as one who possessed high qualities of mind and great excellence of character. To one of these a gentleman high in office in New Brunswick, the author of the loyalists, once remarked in conversation that there was some difference to his aunt between being the wife of the commander-in-chief, the first president of the United States, and the wife of an exile and an outlaw herself attainted of treason. The tables were turned upon him by the reply that Mrs. Morris had been remarkable for fascinating all who approached her and molding everybody to her will and that had she married Washington it could not be certain that she would not have kept him to his allegiance. Indeed, Washington would not, could not have been a traitor with such a wife as Aunt Morris. Without dwelling on the possibilities of such a contingency one can hardly think, without some degree of national shame, that a lady whom we have every reason to believe had been the object of Washington's love should be attainted of treason for clinging to the fortunes of her husband. Mrs. Morris died in England in 1825 at the advanced stage of 96. The portrait of her is engraved from an original painting taken after her marriage and now in the possession of her namesake and grand-nese, Mrs. Governor, who resides at Highland Grange, Phillips-down in the Highlands. It is stated in the history of Westchester County that Miss Mary Phillips was the original of the lovely character of Francis in Mr. Cooper's novel of the Spy. This is incorrect. Susanna, the sister of Mary Phillips, was the wife of Beverly Robinson of New York. There is some ground for the belief that she actually exercised over her husband's mind some portion of the influence said to have been possessed by her sister, for it appears that he was at first disinclined to take any active part in the contest between the colonies and Great Britain. He was so much opposed to the measures of the ministry that he would not use imported merchandise, but was at length prevailed on by his friends to enter the royal service. As before mentioned, he and Washington were intimate friends before they were separated by difference of political opinion. The Robinson House, which had been confiscated with the lands, was occupied by Arnold as his headquarters and by Washington at the time of Arnold's treason. When Colonel Robinson gave up the quiet enjoyment of country life, his wife took her share of the outlawry that awaited him, she as well as her sister being included in the act of confiscation. After their removal to England they lived in retirement. She died near Bath at the age of 94 in 1822. Her descendants in New Brunswick preserve among other relics of the olden time a silver t-earn of rich and massive workmanship said to be the first of such articles used in America. END OF CHAPTER SIXTEEN OF THE WOMEN OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION VOLUME ONE by ELIZABETH F. ELLIT CHAPTER SIXTEEN CERA REEVE GIBS The failure of the British commissioners to conclude an amicable adjustment of differences between the two countries and the ill success of the effort to gain their ends by private intrigue and bribery annihilated the hopes of those who had desired the acceptance by Congress of terms of accommodation. War was now the only prospect, the reduction of the colonies to obedience by force of arms or the establishment of national independence by protracted struggle. The movements and expeditions which succeeded the Battle of Monmouth, the incursion of the Indians and Tories under Colonel John Butler and Brant for the destruction of the settlement in the lovely Valley of Wyoming, the terrible tragedy of July with the retaliatory expeditions against the Indians and the repetition of the barbarities of Wyoming at Cherry Valley in November, were the prominent events that took place in the middle and northern sections of the country during the remainder of 1778. The scene of important action was now changed to the south. In November Count de Stang with the French fleet sailed for the West Indies to attack the British dependencies in that quarter. General Sir Henry Clinton on his part dispatched Colonel Campbell from New York on an expedition against Georgia, the feeblest of the southern provinces. His troops landed late in December near Savannah which was then defended by the American general Robert Howe. His small force being enfeebled by sickness defeat was the consequence of an attack and the remnant of the American army retreated into South Carolina. The British having obtained possession of the capital of Georgia, the plan of reducing that state and South Carolina was vigorously prosecuted in 1779 while the armies of Washington and Clinton were employed in the northern section of the Union. Soon after the fall of Savannah, General Prevot with troops from East Florida took possession of the only remaining military post in Georgia and joining his forces to those of Colonel Campbell assumed the chief command of the Royal Army at the south. The loyalists who came along the western frontier of Carolina to join his standard committed great devastations and cruelties on their way. General Lincoln who commanded the continental forces in the southern department sent a detachment under general Ash across the Savannah to repress the incursions of the enemy and confine them to the low country near the sea coast. The surprise and defeat of this detachment by Prevot completed the subjugation of Georgia. But in April General Lincoln entered the field anew and leaving Moultrie to watch Prevot's movements commenced his march up the left bank of the Savannah and crossed into Georgia near Augusta with the intention of advancing on the capital. Prevot attacked Moultrie and Pulaski compelling them to retreat and then hurry to place himself before Charleston. From this position however he was obliged to withdraw on Lincoln's approach. He proceeded to the island of St. John's separated from the mainland by an inlet called Stono River and leaving a division at Stono Ferry retired with a part of his force towards Savannah. On the 20th of June Lincoln attacked the division at Stono Ferry but was repulsed. The British soon after established a post at Beaufort and the main body of the army retired to Savannah. For some months the hot and sickly season prevented further action on either side. The siege of Savannah under Destang and Lincoln took place in early October 1779. The Americans were repulsed the gallant Pulaski receiving his death wound and the enterprise was abandoned. The French fleet departed from the coast and General Lincoln retreated into South Carolina. A cloud of despondency hung over the clothes of this year. The flattering hopes inspired by the alliance with France had not been realized. The Continental Army reduced in numbers and wretchedly clothed, the treasury empty, the paper currency rapidly diminishing in value, distress was brought on all classes and the prospects seemed more than ever dark and discouraging. On the other hand Britain displayed new resources and made renewed exertions notwithstanding the formidable combination against her. Sir Henry Clinton determined to make the South his most important field of operations for the future and planned the campaign of 1780 on an extensive scale. He arrived in Georgia late in January and early in the succeeding month left Savannah for the siege of Charleston then defended by General Lincoln. The fleet of Arbethnaught was anchored in the harbor and the British overran the country on the left side of the Cooper River. The surrender of Charleston on the 12th of May seemed to secure the recovery of the southern section of the Union and Clinton immediately set about re-establishing the royal government. The foregoing brief glance at the course of events during the two years succeeding the evacuation of Philadelphia is necessary to prepare the reader for the southern sketches that follow. A few hundred yards from a fine landing on Stona River upon Johns Island about two hours sail from Charleston stands a large square ancient looking mansion strongly built of brick with a particle fronting the river. On the side towards the road the wide piazza overlooks Elan and a venerable live oak with aspen, sycamore and other trees shaded from the sun. On either side of the house about 20 yards distant stands a smaller two-story building connected with the main building by a neat open fence. In one of these the kitchen and out offices. The other was formerly the schoolhouse and tutors dwelling. Beyond are the barns, the overseers house and the negro huts appertaining to a plantation. The garden in old times was very large and well cultivated being laid out in wide walks and extending from the mansion to the river. The river walk on the verge of a bluff eight or ten feet in height followed the bending of the water and was bordered with orange trees. Tall hedges of the evergreen wild orange tree divided the flower from the vegetable garden and screened from view the family burial ground. The beautifully laid out grounds and shaded walks give this place a most inviting aspect rendering it such an abode as its name of peaceful retreat indicated. At the period of the revolution this mansion was well known throughout the country as the seat of hospitality and elegant taste. Its owner Robert Gibbs was a man of cultivated mind and refined manners. One of those gentlemen of the old school of whom South Carolina has just they made her boast. Early in life he became a martyr to the gout by which painful disease his hands and feet were so contracted and crippled that he was deprived of their use. The only exercise he was able to take was in a chair on wheels in which he was placed every day and by the assistance of a servant moved about the house and through the garden. The circuit through these walks and along the river formed his favorite amusement. Unable by reason of his misfortune to take an active part in the war his feelings were nevertheless warmly enlisted on the Republican side and his house was ever open for the reception and entertainment of the Friends of Liberty. He had married Miss Sarah Reeve, she being at the time about 18 years of age. Notwithstanding her youth she had given evidence that she possessed a mind of no common order. The young couple had a house in Charleston but spent the greater part of their time at their country seat and plantation upon John's Island. Here Mrs. Gibbs devoted herself with earnestness to the various duties before her. For in consequence of her husband's infirmities the management of an extensive estate with the writing on business it required devolved entirely upon her. In addition to a large family of her own she had the care of the seven orphan children of Mrs. Fenwick the sister of Mr. Gibbs who at her death had left them and their estate to his guardianship. Two other children one her nephew Robert Barnwell were added to her charge. The multiplied cares involved in meeting all these responsibilities with the superintendents of household concerns required a rare degree of energy and activity yet the mistress of this well-ordered establishment had always a ready and cordial welcome for her friends dispensing the hospitalities of peaceful retreat with a grace and cheerful politeness that rendered it a most agreeable resort. It was doubtless the fame of the luxurious living at this delightful country seat which attracted the attention of the British during the invasion of Prebo while the royal army kept possession of the seaboard. A battalion of British and Hessians determined to quarter themselves in so desirable a spot arrived at the landing at the dead of night and marching up in silence surrounded the house. The day had not yet begun to dawn when an aged and faithful servant tapped softly at the door of Mrs. Gibbs's apartment. The whisper, Mistress, the red coats are all around the house, was the first intimation given of their danger. Tell no one sees her but keep all quiet she replied promptly and her preparations were instantly commenced to receive the intruders. Having dressed herself quickly she went upstairs, waked several ladies who were guest in the house and requested them to rise and dress with all possible haste. In the meantime the domestics were directed to prepare the children of whom with her own eight and those under her care there were sixteen, the eldest being only fifteen years old. These were speedily dressed and seated in the spacious hall. Mrs. Gibbs then assisted her husband as was always her custom to rise and dress and had him placed in his rolling chair. All these arrangements were made without the least confusion and so silently that the British had no idea anyone was yet awake within the house. The object of Mrs. Gibbs was to prevent violence on the enemy's part by showing them at once that the mansion was inhabited only by those who were unable to defend themselves. The impressive manner in which this was done produced its effect. The invaders had no knowledge that the inmates were aware of their presence till daylight when they heard the heavy rolling of Mr. Gibbs' chair across the great hall towards the front door. Supposing the sound to be the rolling of a cannon the soldiers advanced and stood prepared with pointed bayonets to rush in when the signal for assault should be given. But as the door was thrown open and the stately form of the invalid presented itself surrounded by women and children they drew back and, startled into an involuntary expression of respect, presented arms. Mr. Gibbs addressed them yielding of course to the necessity that could not be resisted. The officers took immediate possession of the house leaving the premises to their men and extending no protection against pillage. The soldiers roved at their pleasure about the plantation helping themselves to whatever they chose, breaking into the wine room, drinking to intoxication and seizing upon and carrying off the negroes. A large portion of the plate was saved by the provident care of a faithful servant who secretly buried it. Within the mansion the energy and self-possession of Mrs. Gibbs still protected her family. The appearance of terror or confusion might have tempted the invaders to incivility but it was impossible for them to treat otherwise them with deference, a lady whose calm and quiet department commanded their respect. Maintaining her place as mistress of her household and presiding at her table she treated her uninvited guests with dignified courtesy that ensured civility while it prevented presumptuous familiarity. The boldest and rudest among them bowed involuntarily to an influence which fear or force could not have secured. When the news reached Charleston that the British had encamped on Mr. Gibbs' plantation the authorities in the city dispatched two galleys to dislodge them. These vessels ascended the river in the night and arriving opposite opened a heavy fire upon the invaders' encampment. The men had received strict injunctions not to fire upon the house for fear of injury to any of the family. It could not, however, be known to Mr. Gibbs that such a caution had been given and as soon as the Americans began their fire dreading some accident he proposed to his wife that they should take the children and seek a place of greater safety. Their horses, being in the enemy's hands they had no means of conveyance but Mrs. Gibbs with energies roused to exertion by the danger and anxious only to secure shelter for her helpless charge set off to walk with the children to an adjoining plantation situated in the interior. A drizzling rain was falling and the weather was extremely chilly. The fire was incessant from the American guns and sent, in order to avoid the house, in a direction which was in range with the course of the fugitives. The shot, falling around them, cut the bushes and struck the trees on every side. Exposed each moment to this imminent danger they continued their flight with as much haste as possible for about a mile till beyond the reach of the shot. Having reached the houses occupied by the Negro laborers on the plantation they stopped for a few moments to rest. Mrs. Gibbs, wet, chilled and exhausted by fatigue and mental anxiety felt her strength utterly fail and was obliged to wrap herself in a blanket and lie down upon one of the beds. It was at this time when the party first drew breath freely with thankfulness that the fears of death were over that on reviewing the trembling group to ascertain if all had escaped uninjured it was found that a little boy, John Fenwick, was missing. In the hurry and terror of their flight the child had been forgotten and left behind. What was now to be done? The servants refused to risk their lives by returning for him and in common humanity Mr. Gibbs could not insist that anyone should undertake the desperate adventure. The roar of the distant guns was still heard breaking at short intervals the deep silence of the night. The chilly rain was falling and the darkness was profound yet the thought of abandoning the helpless boy to destruction was agony to the hearts of his relatives. In this extremity the self-devotion of a young girl interposed to save him. Mary Anna, the eldest daughter of Mrs. Gibbs, then only thirteen years of age determined to venture back in spite of the fearful peril alone. The mother dared not oppose her noble resolution which seemed indeed an inspiration of heaven and she was permitted to go. Hastening along the path with all the speed of which she was capable she reached the house still in the undisturbed possession of the enemy and entreated permission from the sentinel to enter persisting in spite of refusal till by earnest impartunity of supplication she gained her object. Searching anxiously through the house she found the child in a room in a third story and lifting him joyfully in her arms carried him down and fled with him to the spot where her anxious parents were awaiting her return. The shot still flew thickly around her frequently throwing up the earth in her way but protected by the providence that watches over innocence she joined the rest of the family in safety. Asterisk Major Garden who after the war married Mary Ann Gibbs mentions this intrepid action. There are a few errors in his account. He calls the boy who was left a distant relation and says that the dwelling house was fired on by the Americans. The accomplished lady who communicated the particulars to me heard them from her grandmother Mrs. Gibbs and the fact that the house was not fired upon is attested by a near relative now living. The house never bore any marks of shot though balls and grape shot have been often found on the plantation. Again Garden says the family were allowed to remain in some of the upper apartments and were at last ordered to quit the premises implying that they were treated with some severity as prisoners. This could not have been the case as Mrs. Gibbs constantly asserted that she presided at her own table and spoke of the respect and deference with which she was uniformly treated by the officers. Her refusal to yield what she deemed a right ensured civility toward herself and household. Return to text. The boy saved on this occasion by the intrepidity of the young girl was the late General Fenwick distinguished for his services in the last war with Great Britain. Fenwick place still called headquarters was three miles from peaceful retreat. The family Bible from which the parentage of General Fenwick might have been ascertained was lost during the revolution and only restored to the family in the summer of 1847. Some time after these occurrences when the family were again inmates of their own home a battle was fought in a neighboring field. When the conflict was over Mrs. Gibbs sent her servants to search among the slain left upon the battleground for Robert Barnwell her nephew who had not returned. They discovered him by part of his dress which one of the blacks remembered having seen his mother making. His face was so covered with wounds, dust and blood that he could not be recognized. Yet life was not extinct and under the unremitting care of his aunt and her young daughter he recovered. His son Robert W. Barnwell was for some years president of the South Carolina College. Scenes like these were often witnessed by the subject of this sketch and on more than a few occasions did she suffer acute anxiety on account of the danger of those dear to her. She was accustomed to point out the spot where her eldest son when only sixteen years old had been placed as a sentinel while British vessels were in the river and their fire was poured on him. She would relate how with a mother's agony of solicitude she watched the balls as they struck the earth around him while the youthful soldier maintained his dangerous post not withstanding the entreaties of an old negro hid behind a tree that he would leave it. Through such trials the severity of which we who enjoy the peace so purchased cannot fully estimate she exhibited the same composure and readiness to meet every emergency with the same benevolent sympathy for others. During the struggle while Carolina was invaded or in a state of defense her house was at different times the quarters of friend and foe. The skirmishes were frequent and many who went forth in the morning in health and vigor returned no more nor did she know from day to day who were next to be her guests. Mrs. Gibbs had a cultivated taste and amidst her many cares still found leisure for literary occupation volumes of her writings remain failed with well selected extracts from the many books she read accompanied by her own comments with essays on various subjects copies of letters to her friends and poetry everything from her pen evinces delicacy as well as strength of mind extensive information and refinement of taste with a tender sensibility and a deep tone of piety most of her letters were written after the war and throw no additional light on the feeling or manners of that period she was in the habit of putting aside locks of hair and closed with appropriate political tributes as mementos of her departed friends and many of these touching memorials have been found among her papers for 15 years she was deprived of sight but lost nothing of her cheerfulness or the engaging grace of her manner nor was her conversation less interesting or entertaining to her visitors. A stranger who shortly before her death was at her house with a party of friends whom she delighted by her conversation expressed great surprise on being informed she was blind during the latter part of her life she resided at welton the country seat of mrs barnhard elliot where she died in 1825 at the age of 79 her remains rest in the family burial ground upon johns island a beautiful monumental inscription in st paul's church charleston records the virtues that adorned her character and the faith which sustained her under many afflictions end of chapter 16