Part 14

The siege of Fort Henry, at the mouth of Wheeling creek, in Ohio county, Virginia, occurred in September, 1777. Of the historical _fact_ most people are aware; yet but few, comparatively, knew how much the little band in the garrison, who held out against thirty or forty times their number of savage assailants, were indebted, for their success, to the courage and self-devotion of a single female.

The Indians kept up a brisk firing from about sunrise till past noon, when they ceased and retired a short distance to the foot of a hill. During the forenoon the little company in the fort had not been idle. Among their number were a few sharp shooters, who had burnt most of the powder on hand to the best advantage. Almost every charge had taken effect; and probably the savages began to see that they were losing numbers at fearful odds, and had doubtless retired for consultation. But they had less occasion for anxiety, just at that time, than the men, women and children in the garrison. As already hinted, the stock of powder was nearly exhausted. There was a keg in a house ten or twelve rods from the gate of the fort, and as soon as the hostilities of the Indians were suspended, the question arose, who shall attempt to seize this prize? Strange to say, every soldier proffered his services, and there was an ardent contention among them for the honor. In the weak state of the garrison, Colonel Shepard, the commander, deemed it advisable that only one person should be spared; and in the midst of the confusion, before any one could be designated, a girl named Elizabeth Zane,[48] interrupted the debate, saying that her life was not so important, at that time, as any one of the soldier's, and claiming the privilege of performing the contested service. The Colonel would not, at first, listen to her proposal; but she was so resolute, so persevering in her plea, and her argument was so powerful, that he finally suffered the gate to be opened, and she passed out. The Indians saw her before she reached her brother's house, where the keg was deposited; but, for some unknown cause, they did not molest her, until she re-appeared with the article under her arm. Probably divining the nature of her burden, they discharged a volley as she was running towards the gate; but the whizzing balls only gave agility to her feet, and herself and the prize were quickly safe within the gate. The result was that the soldiers inspired with enthusiasm by this heroic adventure, fought with renewed courage, and, before the keg of powder was exhausted, the enemy raised the siege.

[48] We learn, from Withers, that Miss Zane has since had two husbands.

The name of the second was Clarke, a resident of Ohio. She was living, not long since, near St. Clairsville.

A BENEVOLENT WIDOW

Charity ever Finds in the act reward.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

Several years ago, a poor widow had placed a smoked herring,--the last morsel of food she had in the house--on the table for herself and children, when a stranger entered and solicited food, saying that he had had nothing to eat for twenty-four hours. The widow unhesitatingly offered to share the herring with him, remarking, at the same time, "We shall not be forsaken, or suffer deeper for an act of charity."

As the stranger drew near the table and saw the scantiness of the fare, he asked, "And is this all your store? Do you offer a share to one you do not know? Then I never saw charity before. But, madam, do you not wrong your children by giving a part of your morsel to a stranger?" "Ah," said she, with tears in her eyes, "I have a boy, a darling son, somewhere on the face of the wide world, unless Heaven has taken him away; and I only act towards you as I would that others should act towards him. God, who sent manna from heaven, can provide for us as he did for Israel; and how should I this night offend him, if my son should be a wanderer, destitute as you, and he should have provided for him a home, even as poor as this, were I to turn you unrelieved away!"

The stranger whom she thus addressed, was the long absent son to whom she referred; and when she stopped speaking, he sprang from his feet, clasped her in his arms, and exclaimed, "God, indeed, has provided just such a home for your wandering son, _and has given him wealth to reward the goodness of his benefactress_. My mother! O, my mother!"[49]

[49] Abridged from Cyclopedia of Moral and Religious Anecdotes.

ANNE FITZHUGH.

Who shall find a valiant woman? The price of her is as things brought from afar.

PROVERBS.

'T is the last Duty that I can pay to my dear lord.

FLETCHER.

The wife of Colonel William Fitzhugh, of Maryland, while he was absent at one time during the Revolution, was surprised by the news that a party of British soldiers was approaching her house. She instantly collected her slaves; furnished them with such weapons of defence as were at hand; took a quantity of cartridges in her apron, and, herself forming the van, urged her sable subalterns on to meet the foe. Not looking for resistance, the advancing party, on beholding the amazon with her sooty invincibles, hastily turned on their heels and fled.

On a subsequent occasion, a detachment of soldiers marched at midnight to Colonel Fitzhugh's house, which was half a mile from the shore, and near the mouth of the Patuxent river, and knocked at the door. The Colonel demanding who was there, and receiving for reply that the visitants were "friends to King George," told the unwelcome intruders that he was blind and unable to wait upon them, but that his wife would admit them forthwith. Lighting a candle and merely putting on her slippers, she descended, awoke her sons, put pistols in their hands, and, pointing to the back door, told them to flee. She then let the soldiers in at the front door. They inquired for Colonel Fitzhugh, and said he must come down stairs at once and go as a prisoner to New York. She accordingly dressed her husband--forgetting meanwhile, to do as much for herself--and when he had descended, he assured the soldiers that his blindness, and the infirmities of age unfitted him to take care of himself, and that it could hardly be desirable for them to take in charge so decrepit and inoffensive a person. They thought otherwise; and his wife, seeing he must go, took his arm and said she would go too. The officer told her she would be exposed and must suffer, but she persisted in accompanying him, saying that he could not take care of himself, nor, if he could, would she permit a separation.

It was a cold and rainy night, and with the mere protection of a cloak, which the officer took down and threw over her shoulders before leaving the house, she sallied forth with the party. While on the way to their boat, the report of a gun was heard, which the soldiers supposed was the signal of a rebel gathering. They hastened to the boat, where a parole was written out with trembling hand, and placed in the old gentleman's possession. Without even a benediction, he was left on shore with his faithful and fearless companion, who thought but little of her wet feet as she stood and saw the cowardly detachment of British soldiers push off and row away with all their might for safety.

ESTHER GASTON.

True fortitude is seen in great exploits That justice warrants and that wisdom guides.

ADDISON.

The good alone are great.

BEATTIE.

On the morning of July thirtieth, 1770, Esther Gaston, afterwards the wife of Alexander Walker, hearing the firing at the battle of Rocky Mount, took with her a sister-in-law, and, well mounted, pushed on towards the scene of conflict. They soon met two or three cowardly men, hastening from the field of action. Esther hailed and rebuked them, and finding entreaties would not cause them to retrace their steps, she seized the gun from the hands of one of them, exclaiming, "Give _us_ your guns, then, and we will stand in your places." The cowards, abashed, now wheeled, and, in company with the females, hurried on to face the cannon's mouth.

While the strife was still raging, Esther and her companion busied themselves in dressing the wounded and quenching the thirst of the dying. Even their helpless enemies shared in their humane services.

During the battle of Hanging Rock, which occurred the next week, Esther might be seen at Waxhaw church, which was converted for the time into a hospital, administering to the wants of the wounded.

As kind as patriotic, with her hands filled with soothing cordials, she was seen, through all her life, knocking at the door of suffering humanity.

REMARKABLE PRESENCE OF MIND AND SELF-POSSESSION.

Were I the monarch of the earth, And master of the swelling sea, I would not estimate their worth, Dear woman, half the price of thee.

GEO. P. MORRIS.

Mr. Ralph Izard, a true "liberty man," resided, during the struggle for Independence, near Dorchester, in South Carolina. He was for awhile aid-de-camp to the commander of the Light Troops, and was an especial object of British hatred. On one occasion, while at home, he came very near falling into the hands of the enemy. A number of British soldiers surrounded his house, and on discovering them he hid himself in the clothes-press. They were confident he was in the house, and having instituted a thorough but ineffectual search, threatened to burn the building, unless his wife would point out his place of concealment. She adroitly evaded answering directly all queries respecting his quarters. They next robbed his wardrobe; seized all the better articles they could find in the house, and even tried to force off her finger-rings. She still remained composed and courageous, yet courteous and urbane, knowing that much, every thing, in fact, depended on her self-control. Her calmness and apparent unconcern led the marauders to conclude that they had been misled in supposing Mr. Izard was in the house; and at length they departed. He then sprang from his covert, and, rushing out by a back door, crossed the Ashley river and notified the Americans on the opposite side, of the state of things.

Meantime, the ruffians returned to the house, and, strange to say, went directly to the clothes-press. Again disappointed, they retired; but they were soon met by a body of cavalry, handsomely whipped, and all the fine articles belonging to Mr. Izard's wardrobe and house were restored.

THE WIFE OF GOVERNOR GRISWOLD.

Happy the man, and happy sure he was, So wedded.

HURDIS.

The residence of the first Governor of Connecticut, was at Blackhall, near Long Island Sound. While British ships were lying at anchor in these waters on a certain occasion, a party of marines in pursuit of his Excellency, presented themselves at the door. It being impossible for him to escape by flight, his affectionate and thoughtful wife secreted him in a large new meat barrel or tierce--for although he was somewhat corpulent, he could not vie in physical rotundity with the early and honored Knickerbocker magistrates. He was cleverly packed away in the future home of doomed porkers, just as the soldiers entered and commenced their search. Not finding him readily, they asked his quick-witted wife one or two hard questions, but received no very enlightening answer. The Legislature had convened a day or two before at Hartford, and she intimated that he was or ought to be at the capital. Unsuccessful in their search, the soldiers took their boat and returned to the ship. Before they had reached the latter, his unpacked Honor was on a swift steed, galloping to Gubernatorial head-quarters.

BOLD EXPLOIT OF A YOUNG GIRL.

Some god impels with courage not thy own.

POPE'S HOMER.

Robert Gibbes was the owner of a splendid mansion on John's Island, a few miles from Charleston, South Carolina, known, during the Revolution, as the "Peaceful Retreat." On his plantation the British encamped on a certain occasion; and the American authorities sent two galleys up the Stono river, on which the mansion stood, to dislodge them. Strict injunctions had been given to the men not to fire on the house, but Mr. Gibbes not being aware of this fact, when the firing commenced, thought it advisable to take his family to some remote place for shelter. They accordingly started in a cold and drizzly rain and in a direction ranging with the fire of the American guns. Shot struck the trees and cut the bushes beside their path for some distance. When about a mile from the mansion, and out of danger, reaching the huts occupied by the negroes on the plantation, Mrs. Gibbes, being chilled and exhausted, was obliged to lie down. Here, when they supposed all were safe, and began to rejoice over their fortunate escape, to their great astonishment, they discovered that a boy named Fenwick, a member of the family, had been left behind.[50] It was still raining, was very dark, and imminent danger must attend an effort to rescue the lad. And who would risk life in attempting it? The servants refused. Mr. Gibbes was gouty and feeble, and prudence forbade him to again venture out. At length, the oldest daughter of the family, Mary Ann, only thirteen years old, offers to go alone. She hastens off; reaches the house, still in possession of the British; begs the sentinel to let her enter; and though repeatedly repulsed, she doubles the earnestness of her entreaties, and finally gains admittance. She finds the child in the third story; clasps him in her arms; hastens down stairs, and, passing the sentry, flees with the shot whizzing past her head; and herself and the child are soon with the rest of the family.

[50] In addition to her own family, Mrs. Gibbes had the care of the seven orphan children of Mrs. Fenwick, her sister-in-law, and two other children. It is not surprising, that, in the confusion of a sudden flight from the house, one of the number should be left behind.

SUSANNA WRIGHT.

Work for some good, be it ever so slowly; Cherish some flower, be it ever so lowly; Labor--all labor is noble and holy.

MRS. OSGOOD.

Susanna Wright removed to this country with her parents from Warrington, in Great Britain, in the year 1714. The family settled in Lancaster county, Pennsylvania. Susanna was then about seventeen. "She never married; but after the death of her father, became the head of her own family, who looked up to her for advice and direction as a parent, for her heart was replete with every kind affection."

She was a remarkable economist of time, for although she had the constant management of a large family, and, at times, of a profitable establishment, she mastered many of the sciences; was a good French, Latin and Italian scholar; assisted neighbors in the settlement of estates, and was frequently consulted as a physician.

"She took great delight in domestic manufacture, and had constantly much of it produced in her family. For many years she attended to the rearing of silk worms, and with the silk, which she reeled and prepared herself, made many articles both of beauty and utility, dying the silk of various colors with indigenous materials. She had at one time upwards of sixty yards of excellent mantua returned to her from Great Britain, where she had sent the raw silk to be manufactured."

This industrious and pious Quakeress, who seems to have possessed all the excellencies defined in Solomon's inventory of the virtuous woman, lived more than four score years, an ornament to her sex and a blessing to the race.

"There was no need, In those good times, of trim callisthenics,-- And there was less of gadding, and far more Of home-bred, heart-felt comfort, rooted strong In industry, and bearing such rare fruit As wealth may never purchase."

PATRIOTISM OF 1770.

In conduct, as in courage, you excel, Still first to act what you advise so well.

POPE'S HOMER.

In the early part of February, 1770, the women of Boston publicly pledged themselves to abstain from the use of tea, "as a practical execution of the non-importation agreement of their fathers, husbands and brothers." We are credibly informed, writes the editor of the Boston Gazette of February ninth, "that upwards of one hundred ladies at the north part of the town, have, of their own free will and accord, come into and signed an agreement, not to drink any tea till the Revenue Acts are passed." At that date three hundred matrons had become members of the league.

Three days after the above date, the young women followed the example of their mothers, multitudes signing a document which read as follows: "We, the daughters of those patriots who have and do now appear for the public interest, and, in that, principally regard their posterity,--as such do with pleasure engage with them in denying ourselves the drinking of foreign tea, in hopes to frustrate a plan which tends to deprive the whole community of all that is valuable in life."

Multitudes of females in New York and Virginia, and, if we mistake not, some in other states, made similar movements; and it is easy to perceive, in the tone of those early pledges of self-denial for honor, liberty, country's sake, the infancy of that spirit which, quickly reaching its manhood, planned schemes of resistance to oppression on a more magnanimous scale, and flagged not till a work was done which filled half the world with admiration and the whole with astonishment.

MRS. SPALDING OF GEORGIA.

Through trials hard as these, how oft are seen The tender sex, in fortitude serene.

ANN SEWARD.

Mrs. Spalding was the niece of General Lachlan McIntosh, daughter of Colonel William McIntosh and mother of Major Spalding, of Georgia.

In 1778, after Colonel Campbell took possession of Savannah, Georgia, that section of the country was infested with reckless marauders, and many families fled to avoid their ruthlessness. Mr. Spalding retired with his wife and child to Florida; and twice during the Revolution, she traversed "the two hundred miles between Savannah and St. John's river, in an open boat, with only black servants on board, when the whole country was a desert, without a house to shelter her and her infant son."

The part she bore in the dangers of the Revolution and the anxieties to which she was necessarily subjected, so impaired her health that "many years afterwards it was deemed necessary that she should try the climate of Europe. In January, 1800, she, with her son and his wife, left Savannah in a British ship of twenty guns, with fifty men, built in all points to resemble a sloop of war, without the appearance of a cargo. When they had been out about fifteen days, the captain sent one morning at daylight, to request the presence of two of his gentlemen passengers on deck. A large ship, painted black and showing twelve guns on a side, was seen to windward, running across their course. She was obviously a French privateer. The captain announced that there was no hope of out-sailing her, should their course be altered; nor would there be hope in a conflict, as those ships usually carried one hundred and fifty men. Yet he judged that if no effort were made to shun the privateer, the appearance of his ship might deter from an attack. The gentlemen were of the same opinion. Mr. Spalding, heart-sick at thought of the perilous situation of his wife and mother, and unwilling to trust himself with an interview till the crisis was over, requested the captain to go below and make what preparation he could for their security. After a few minutes' absence the captain returned to describe a most touching scene. Mrs. Spalding had placed her daughter-in-law and the other inmates of the cabin for safety in the two state-rooms, filling the berths with the cots and bedding from the outer cabin. She had then taken her station beside the scuttle, which led from the outer cabin to the magazine, with two buckets of water. Having noticed that the two cabin boys were heedless, she had determined herself to keep watch over the magazine. She did so till the danger was past. The captain took in his light sails, hoisted his boarding nettings, opened his ports, and stood on upon his course. The privateer waited till the ship was within a mile, then fired a gun to windward, and stood on her way. This ruse preserved the ship."[51]

[51] Mrs. Ellet.

COURAGEOUS ACT OF MRS. DILLARD.

Thy country, glorious, brave and fair, Thine all of life-- Her name alone thy heart's depths stirred, And filled thy soul with war-like pride.

SARA J. CLARKE.

The day before the battle at the Green Spring, in the Spartanburg district, South Carolina, Colonel Clarke, of the Georgia volunteers, with about two hundred men, stopped at the house of Captain Dillard and were cordially welcomed to a good supply of refreshments. In the evening of the same day, Colonel Ferguson and another officer named Dunlap, with a party of tories, arrived at the same house and inquired of the mistress, if Colonel Clarke had been there, to which question she gave a direct and honest answer. He then inquired in regard to the time of Clarke's departure and the number of his men. She could not guess their number, but said they had been gone a long time. She was then ordered to get supper, which she did, though in a less hospitable spirit than she had prepared the previous meal. While at work, she overheard some of the conversation of the officers, by which she learned that they were bent on surprising Colonel Clarke, and would start for that purpose when supper was dispatched. As soon as the food was on the table, Mrs. Dillard hurried out at the back door, bridled a horse that stood in the stable, and mounting without saddle, rode till nearly daylight before reaching the Green Spring where Clarke had encamped, and where he was to be attacked by Ferguson, at the break of day or sooner, as she had learned before starting.

She had just aroused the whigs and notified them of their danger, when a detachment of two hundred picked, mounted men, commanded by Dunlap, rushed into the camp. They found their intended victims ready for the charge; were quickly driven out of the camp, and glad to escape by flight. Thus, fortunately for the friends of freedom, ended this battle, which, but for the daring of a single patriotic woman, would doubtless have resulted in the annihilation of the little band of Georgia volunteers.

PHOEBE PHILLIPS.

The secret pleasure of a generous act Is the great mind's great bribe.

DRYDEN.

Phoebe Foxcroft, afterwards the wife of Samuel Phillips, the joint founder, with his uncle, of the academy at Andover, Massachusetts, was a native of Cambridge, in the same state. Reared beneath the shades of "Old Harvard" and being the daughter of a man of wealth and high respectability, it is almost needless to say that she was well educated and highly refined. To mental attainments she added the finishing charm of female character, glowing piety. The last forty years or more of her life were passed at Andover, where, after the death of her husband, she assisted in founding the celebrated Theological seminary. She died in 1818.

It is said that she was accustomed, for years, to make the health of every pupil in the academy a subject of personal interest. Her attentions to their wants were impartial and incalculably beneficial. To those that came from remote towns, and were thus deprived of parental oversight, she acted the part of a faithful mother.

Affectionate, kind, generous, watchful, as a christian guardian; she was unbending, self-sacrificing and "zealous, yet modest," as a patriot. During the seven years' struggle for freedom, she frequently sat up till midnight or past, preparing bandages and scraping lint for the hospitals and making garments for the ragged soldiers.