Part 5

"Sisters and friends, we extend across the ocean our hands to you in the fellowship of Christ. We pray that His Cross and the banner of your land may rise together over the Crescent and the Minaret--that your sons may hail the freedom of ancient Greece restored, and build again the waste places which the oppressor hath trodden down; and that you, admitted once more to the felicities of home, may gather from past perils and adversities a brighter wreath for the kingdom of Heaven.

"LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY, "_Secretary of the Greek Committee of Hartford, Connecticut._"

"MOTHER BAILEY."

No braver dames had Sparta, No nobler matrons Rome.

W. D. GALLAGHER.

Anna Warner was born in Groton, Connecticut, on the eleventh of October, 1758, and married Captain Elijah Bailey of the same town, in 1774. He participated in the hardships and dangers, and she in the trials of the struggle for Independence. He is dead; she is still living.[7]

[7] We are informed by the Postmaster of Groton, in a letter dated the tenth of December, 1850, that Mrs. B. is still living, and that her mind is somewhat impaired. She is now in her ninety-third year.

She was a witness of the terrible massacre at Fort Griswold, in Groton, on the sixth of September; and the following morning she hurried off to the scene of carnage, a distance of three miles, to search for an uncle who was among the brave defenders. She found him among the fatally wounded: at his request that he might see his wife and child before he died, she ran home, caught and saddled a horse for the feeble mother, and taking the child in her arms, carried it the whole distance, that it might receive the kisses and benediction of its dying father!

In the month of July, 1813 a blockading fleet appeared off the harbor of New London; and on the thirteenth, demonstrations were noticed of an intention to attack the place. Intense excitement now prevailed not only in New London, but in all the adjacent towns. Fort Griswold was once more occupied; small cannon--all to be had--were planted, and every preparation possible was made for a vigorous defence. The greatest deficiency was in flannel for cartridges; and in the emergency a messenger was dispatched to the village to consult with Mrs. Bailey on the most expeditious method of obtaining a supply. She promptly offered to see that each family was visited, and the wants of the soldiery made known. This was done, and each individual in the neighborhood cheerfully presented her and her co-laborers whatever of the desired articles could be spared, some in garments and some in the raw material. When these were delivered to the messenger, and there was still found a deficiency, she slyly slipped an under garment from her own person and charged him to give _that_ to the British. As the enemy did not deem it expedient to make an attack, it is difficult to tell what aid that garment rendered; nor does it matter: its patriotic surrender showed the noble spirit which has always actuated "mother Bailey," and was an appropriation for her country which never caused her a blush.[8]

[8] The editor of the Democratic Review, to whom we are indebted for a portion of these facts, visited the heroine of Groton in the fall of 1846, in the number of his periodical for the January following spoke of her as a remarkable woman, physically, as well as mentally and patriotically. She was then eighty-eight years old, yet as agile as a girl of eighteen, and neither sight nor hearing had began to fail. "Such then," he adds, "is Mother Bailey. Had she lived in the palmy days of ancient Roman glory, no matron of the mighty empire would have been more highly honored." In the same article Mrs. B. is spoken of as the Postmistress of Groton, an office, which the present Postmaster assures us, she never held.

Since the above was originally stereotyped, Mrs. Bailey has died. Her demise occurred in the winter of 1850-1.

ELIZABETH HEARD.

Kindness has resistless charms.

ROCHESTER.

Why should'st thou faint? Heaven smiles above, Though storm and vapor intervene.

PARK BENJAMIN.

Mrs. Elizabeth Heard, "a widow of good estate, a mother of many children and a daughter of Mr. Hull, a revered minister formerly living at Pisquataqua," was among the sufferers from captivity by the Indians in the latter part of the seventeenth century. She was taken at the destruction of Major Waldron's garrison in Dover, New Hampshire, about 1689. She was permitted to escape on account of a favor which she had shown a young Indian thirteen years before--she having secreted him in her house on the "calamitous day," in 1676, when four hundred savages were surprised in Dover.[9]

[9] Drake's Indian Captivities.

Having been suffered to escape, writes the Rev. John Pike, minister at Dover, to Dr. Cotton Mather, "she soon after safely arrived at Captain Gerish's garrison, where she found a refuge from the storm. Here she also had the satisfaction to understand that her own garrison, though one of the first that was assaulted, had been bravely defended and successfully maintained against the enemy. This gentlewoman's garrison was on the most extreme frontier of the province, and more obnoxious than any other, and therefore incapable of being relieved. Nevertheless, by her presence and courage it held out all the war, even for ten years together; and the persons in it have enjoyed very eminent preservations. It would have been deserted if she had accepted offers that were made her by her friends to abandon it and retire to Portsmouth among them, which would have been a damage to the town and land."

THE LADIES OF PHILADELPHIA IN 1780.

I have not shut mine ears to their demands, Nor posted off their suits with slow delays.

SHAKSPEARE.

During the long war which resulted in the Independence of the American Colonies, the women all over the land were warmly interested in the condition of the soldiers, and prompt to relieve their wants when suffering. There was, at times, a sad deficiency of wearing apparel; and many are the instances in which a noble sacrifice of ease and a liberal expenditure of time and strength, were made by the ladies that this comfort might be restored to the self-sacrificing soldiers.

In 1780, the ladies of Philadelphia city and county, learning that the soldiers were in great need of clothing, sold their jewelry and converted _other_ trinkets into something more serviceable; collected by solicitation large sums of money; purchased the raw material, plied the needle "with all diligence;" and in a short time the aggregate amount of their contributions was $7,500.[10]

[10] This sum was raised in and immediately around Philadelphia. The efforts of the ladies were not, however, limited to their own neighborhood. They addressed circulars to the adjoining counties and states, and the response of New Jersey and Maryland was truly generous.

The number of shirts made by the ladies of Philadelphia during that patriotic movement, was twenty-two hundred! These were cut out at the house of Mrs. Sarah Bache, daughter of Dr. Franklin. This lady writing to a Mrs. Meredith, of Trenton, New Jersey, at that time, says, "I am happy to have it in my power to tell you that the sums given by the good women of Philadelphia for the benefit of the army, have been much greater than could be expected, and given with so much cheerfulness and so many blessings, that it was rather a pleasing than a painful task to call for them. I write to claim you as a Philadelphian, and shall think myself honored in your donation."

THE WIFE OF PRESIDENT REED.[11]

Mightier far Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway Of magic potent over sun and star, Is love, though oft to agony distrest, And though his favorite seat be feeble woman's breast.

WORDSWORTH.

Undaunted by the tempest, wild and chill, That pours its restless and disastrous roll, O'er all that blooms below.

SANDS' YAMOYDEN.

Prominent among the ladies of Philadelphia who, in the summer and fall of 1780, were active in assisting the sufferers in the American army, was Esther Reed, the wife of President Reed. She stood at the head of the Association till her death, which occurred on the eighteenth of September of that year. She was succeeded by Mrs. Sarah Bache, Mrs. Francis, Mrs. Clarkson, Mrs. Blair and Mrs. Hillegas, who were constituted an Executive Committee.

[11] The facts embodied in this notice of Mrs. Reed, are mainly obtained from the Life and Correspondence of President Reed. _Vide_ volume II., chapter XII.

The maiden name of Mrs. Reed was De Berdt. She was born in London on the twenty-second of October, 1746. There, about the year 1763, she became acquainted with Mr. Joseph Reed, of New Jersey, then a student at the Temple. She had fond parents and lived in affluence, but from these she at length turned, and, being married in May, 1770, "followed the lover of her youth to these wild Colonies." Philadelphia became the home of the happy couple. The wife of an American, she imbibed the sentiments and manifested the spirit of an American, and to the day of her death showed herself worthy to be the wife of an American soldier. "During five years of war, more than half the time her family was broken up, and for a long period the young wife, with her little children and an aged mother, was driven to seek a distant and precarious refuge." Her husband was an Adjutant-General, and was in the camp much of the time, till he was chosen President--or, as we now say, Governor--of Pennsylvania, in 1778. Her letters written to him, breathe a patriotic and submissive spirit, and a cheerful trust in that "presiding Power" from whom all solace is derived in seasons of danger, disappointment and affliction.

She was placed at the head of the voluntary association of Philadelphia ladies at its formation in May, and as early as the twentieth of the following month, it will be seen, by an extract from a letter written by Mr. Reed to General Washington, the business of the society was progressing admirably: "The ladies have caught the happy contagion, and in a few days Mrs. Reed will have the honor of writing to you on the subject. It is expected she will have a sum equal to £100,000, to be laid out according to your Excellency's direction, in such a way as may be thought most honorable and gratifying to the brave old soldiers who have borne so great a share of the burden of this war. I thought it best to mention it in this way to your Excellency for your consideration, as it may tend to forward the benevolent scheme of the donors with dispatch. I must observe that the ladies have excepted such articles of necessity, as clothing, which the states are bound to provide."

The following letter, written the next month, explains itself:

"ESTHER REED TO WASHINGTON. "Philadelphia, July 4th, 1780.

"SIR,--The subscription set on foot by the ladies of this city for the use of the soldiery, is so far completed as to induce me to transmit to your Excellency an account of the money I have received, and which, although it has answered our expectations, does not equal our wishes, but I am persuaded will be received as a proof of our zeal for the great cause of America, and our esteem and gratitude for those who so bravely defend it.

"The amount of the subscription is 200,580 dollars, and £625 6_s._ 8_d._ in specie, which makes in the whole, in paper money, 300,634 dollars.

"The ladies are anxious for the soldiers to receive the benefit of it, and wait your directions how it can best be disposed of. We expect some considerable addition from the country, and have also wrote to the other States in hopes the ladies there will adopt similar plans, to render it more general and beneficial.

"With the utmost pleasure I offer any further attention and care in my power to complete the execution of the design, and shall be happy to accomplish it agreeable to the intention of the donors and your wishes on the subject.

"The ladies of my family join me in their respectful compliments and sincerest prayer for your health, safety, and success.

"I have the honor to be, "With the highest respect, "Your obedient humble servant, "E. REED."

During the months of July and August, though in feeble health, Mrs. Reed held frequent correspondence with General Washington on the best mode of administering relief to the destitute soldiers. Her desire to make herself useful may be inferred from the tone of a letter addressed to her husband from the banks of the Schuylkill, on the twenty-second of August. Among other things, she says, "I received this morning a letter from the General, and he still continues his opinion that the money in my hands should be laid out in linen; he says, no supplies he has at present or has a prospect of are any way adequate to the wants of the army. His letter is, I think, a little formal, as if he was hurt by our asking his opinion a second time, and our not following his directions, after desiring him to give them. The letter is very complaisant, and I shall now endeavor to get the shirts made as soon as possible. _This is another circumstance to urge my return to town, as I can do little towards it here._"

The responsible and onerous duties of Mrs. Reed during the summer of 1780, were no doubt injurious to her already poor health, and hastened the approach of death. Early in September she was laid upon a bed of fatal illness, and before the month had closed, as before mentioned, she was in the "mysterious realm." The Council and Assembly adjourned to pay their last respect to her exalted virtues. Her remains were deposited in the Presbyterian burying-ground in Arch Street, and the following epitaph was inscribed on her tomb:

"In memory of ESTHER, the beloved wife of Joseph Reed, President of this State, who departed this life On the 18th of September, A. D. 1780, aged 34 years. Reader! If the possession of those virtues of the heart Which make life valuable, or those personal endowments which Command esteem and love, may claim respectful and affectionate Remembrance, venerate the ashes here entombed. If to have the cup of temporal blessings dashed In the period and station of life in which temporal blessings May be best enjoyed, demands our sorrow, drop a tear, and Think how slender is that thread on which the joys And hopes of life depend."

COMPLETION OF BUNKER HILL MONUMENT.

The tardy pile, slow rising there, With tongueless eloquence shall tell Of them who for their country fell.

SPRAGUE.

Ladies, you deserve To have a temple built _you_.

SHAKSPEARE.

The Bunker Hill Monument Association was incorporated in June, 1823. Nothing further was done that year. At the second annual meeting, which was held on the seventeenth of June, efficient plans were devised to carry forward the enterprise; and at the end of another year, just half a century after the battle, the corner stone was laid. General Lafayette was then on a visit to the United States, and was appropriately chosen to take a leading part in this interesting ceremony. The monument did not get fairly under way till the spring of 1827. This apparent tardiness was owing to the circumstance that the material was to be brought from a granite quarry in Quincy, and a rail road--the first in the United States--had to be built from the quarry to the wharf in Quincy to convey the stone.

In 1828, the funds were exhausted, and the work was not resumed till 1834. Within a year the work was again suspended for the same cause. Nothing further was done, and but little said, till 1839, when it was announced that two gentlemen--Amos Lawrence, Esq., of Boston, and Judah Truro, Esq., of New Orleans--would give ten thousand each, provided a sum sufficient to complete the monument could be raised. This liberal offer caused some momentary stimulation; but no proposal immediately made was deemed expedient.

The affairs of the Association now wore, as they had done once or twice before, a gloomy aspect. In the annual report, made on the seventeenth of June, 1840, doubts were expressed whether the present generation would see the monument completed. The same discouraging remark was made soon after, in one of the sewing circles of Boston, when, instead of depressing the spirits, it raised the ambition and quickened the thoughts of the ladies, and several of them proposed to get up a Fair. It was a happy suggestion; was forthwith sanctioned by the board of directors; prompted the issuing of a circular by a sub-committee of the same; raised the stentorian voice of a free and patriotic press, and met with immediate favor all over the land.

The ladies had moved in the matter--_had taken the work into their own hands_--and all doubts in regard to its speedy completion seemed to vanish. The Fair was announced to be held in Quincy Hall, Boston, to commence on the fifth of September, 1840 Every female in the land was invited to contribute some article of her own hands' production, to the exhibition. The patriotic spirit of the _mothers_ of the Revolution was now warm in the hearts of their _daughters_, and ten thousand hands, engaged in the work of preparation, were "plying the needle with exquisite art."

The ladies were to have the complete management of the Fair; and, all things in readiness, it commenced. The product of so much industry and ingenuity, dispensed at the hands of the ladies, presented a scene to the thousands who gathered around the numerous well-stored tables, that is described by a writer--doubtless an eye-witness--as "brilliant and inspiring."[12]

[12] Frothingham's Siege of Boston.

The Fair continued till the fifteenth of the month. Its success was chronicled from day to day in a journal called "The Monument," printed in the Hall. It was the grandest movement of the kind ever made in the country; was conducted throughout in the most admirable manner, and wound up in triumph. Its net proceeds were $30,035 50. To this sum and the $20,000 pledged by the two gentlemen before mentioned, was soon added enough, from other sources, to make the fund $55,153 27; and the work went on to its completion.[13] Thus, at length, a "duty had been performed;" this imperishable offering to Freedom, "which had its commencement in manly patriotism," was "crowned by garlands of grace and beauty."

[13] The last stone was raised on the morning of the twenty-third of July, 1842; the government of the Association and a multitude of other people were present on the occasion. Just before this act took place, a cannon was raised to the apex and discharged--a morning salute to call the people together to engage in the matins of Freedom. Edward Carnes, Jr., of Charlestown, accompanied the stone in its ascent, waving the American flag as he went up, and the Charlestown Artillery were meanwhile firing salutes to announce to the surrounding country the interesting event.

LYDIA DARRAH.

The brave man is not he who feels no fear, For that were stupid and irrational; But he whose noble soul its fear subdues, And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from.

JOANNA BAILLIE.

We find the following anecdote of the amiable and heroic Quakeress, Lydia Darrah, in the first number of the American Quarterly Review:

When the British army held possession of Philadelphia, General Howe's head quarters were in Second street, the fourth door below Spruce, in a house which was before occupied by General Cadwalader. Directly opposite, resided William and Lydia Darrah, members of the Society of Friends. A superior officer of the British army, believed to be the Adjutant General, fixed upon one of their chambers, a back room, for private conference; and two of them frequently met there, with fire and candles, in close consultation. About the second of December, the Adjutant General told Lydia that they would be in the room at seven o'clock, and remain late; and that they wished the family to retire early to bed; adding, that when they were going away, they would call her to let them out, and extinguish their fire and candles. She accordingly sent all the family to bed; but, as the officer had been so particular, her curiosity was excited. She took off her shoes, and put her ear to the key-hole of the conclave. She overheard an order read for all the British troops to march out, late in the evening of the fourth, and attack General Washington's army, then encamped at White Marsh. On hearing this, she returned to her chamber and laid herself down. Soon after, the officers knocked at her door, but she rose only at the third summons, having feigned to be asleep. Her mind was so much agitated that, from this moment, she could neither eat nor sleep; supposing it to be in her power to save the lives of thousands of her countrymen; but not knowing how she was to convey the necessary information to General Washington, nor daring to confide it even to her husband. The time left, was, however, short; she quickly determined to make her way, as soon as possible, to the American outposts. She informed her family, that, as they were in want of flour, she would go to Frankfort for some; her husband insisted that she should take with her the servant maid; but, to his surprise, she positively refused. She got access to General Howe, and solicited--what he readily granted,--a pass through the British troops on the lines. Leaving her bag at the mill, she hastened towards the American lines, and encountered on her way an American, Lieutenant Colonel Craig, of the light horse, who, with some of his men, was on the look-out for information. He knew her, and inquired whither she was going. She answered, in quest of her son, an officer in the American army; and prayed the Colonel to alight and walk with her. He did so, ordering his troops to keep in sight. To him she disclosed her momentous secret, after having obtained from him the most solemn promise never to betray her individually, since her life might be at stake, with the British. He conducted her to a house near at hand, directed a female in it to give her something to eat, and he speeded for head quarters, where he brought General Washington acquainted with what he had heard. Washington made, of course, all preparation for baffling the meditated surprise. Lydia returned home with her flour; sat up alone to watch the movement of the British troops; heard their footsteps; but when they returned, in a few days after, did not dare to ask a question, though solicitous to learn the event. The next evening, the Adjutant General came in, and requested her to walk up to his room, as he wished to put some questions. She followed him in terror; and when he locked the door, and begged her, with an air of mystery to be seated, she was sure that she was either suspected, or had been betrayed. He inquired earnestly whether any of her family were up the last night he and the other officer met:--she told him that they all retired at eight o'clock. He observed--"I know _you_ were asleep, for I knocked at your chamber door three times before you heard me;--I am entirely at a loss to imagine who gave General Washington information of our intended attack, unless the walls of the house could speak. When we arrived near White Marsh, we found all their cannon mounted, and the troops prepared to receive us; and we have marched back like a parcel of fools."

WIDOW STOREY.[14]

Stick to your aim; the mongrel's hold will slip, But only crow-bars loose the bull-dog's lip; Small as he looks, the jaw that never yields, Drags down the bellowing monarch of the fields.

HOLMES.