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 Fac-simile of a Two Dollar Bill — Revolutionary Currency 
 Frb. 17, 1776. 
 
GRACE BARCLAY'S DIARY 
 
 PERSON JL RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 American Revolution, 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 SIDNEY BARCLAY 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 New-York : 
 
 ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH, 
 770 Broadway, cor. Ninth St. 
 
 1S66. 
 
T. 5 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S59, by 
 
 SIDNEY BAECLAY, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southem 
 
 District of New York. 
 
 iZ/^'Ol^ 
 
 1 
 
To 
 WASHINGTON IRVING, ESQ. 
 
 THIS VOLUME 
 
 Is with permission inscribed, as a slight 
 
 S^tslimomal of ll^spctt 
 
 S. B. 
 
Preface 
 
 'TpHE following Papers are taken from private records of the 
 Revolution, written by a mover among, and an eye-witness 
 of, the scenes therein described ; commencing with the occupa- 
 tion of Long Island by the British. 
 
 The actors therein served, not in tented fields, or cabinet 
 councils; their names are not enrolled on the page of history; 
 their deeds are unsung; or unremembered ; their sufferings, 
 losses, and privations are unrecorded. Yet, in their patient 
 endurance they served their country no less than if their blood 
 had been spilled upon her fields of battle, or their treasure given 
 to acquire her freedom. 
 
 Placed in a region of country which was taken early, and held 
 
 by the enemy during the war, they were subject to the depreda- 
 
 11 
 
Preface. 
 
 tions, insults, and levies of the British, and to robbery, incen- 
 diarism, and brutal assaults from a class of outlaws, between the 
 armies; the refuse of both parties, called Runners, Rangers, 
 Cow-boys, etc. 
 
 Those of the noble true-hearted countrymen of Long Island, 
 who were at all active in behalf of freedom and their country, 
 were exiled from their homes and obliged to fly ; if taken, they 
 were imprisoned, their families were scattered, and their dwell- 
 ings indiscriminately plundered ; while, by wearing a bit of red 
 ribbon in their hats, as royalists, they might have been undis- 
 turbed and protected. 
 
 On the morning of the 30th of August, 1776, under cover of 
 a heavy fog, while the enemy were so near that the sound of their 
 pickaxes and shovels, as they dug the trenches, was distinctly 
 audible to the Americans, General Washington, with unrivalled 
 skill and judgment, effected the silent retreat and memorable 
 passage of the East River. 
 
 "After this," says a recent writer, " the British and their allies, 
 the Tories and Refugees, had possession of the island, and many 
 distressing scenes occurred, which were never made public, and 
 can therefore never be known." 
 
 Of this history, the following pages, from unpublished records, 
 long kept, and often curiously though cursorily peeped into, afford 
 a dark, though true picture. It is the history of the trials and 
 
Preface, 
 
 sufferings, hopes, fears, privations, and grievances of a neighbor- 
 hood in the heart of the island. To dwell for a season with 
 fervent gratitude and affectionate pride on the self-denying spirit, 
 indomitable heroism, and inexhaustible patience, which animated 
 our Fathers and Mothers in the Revolutionary struggle, will 
 serve to keep fresh in our remembrance the price paid for our 
 Freedom ; will recall our minds from the all-engrossing Present, 
 and rouse them from the benumbing influence of luxury and 
 ease. 
 
 The writer of these Letters, and this Diary, was the wife 
 of an officer of the Revolution, and the daughter of a clergyman 
 of the Church of England, who, though endeavoring to main- 
 tain the neutral ground (as became one who owed allegiance to 
 the Prince of Peace) in the contest which was then raging, divid- 
 ing the hearts of households, whose peace and joy had never 
 before known a cloud, was yet loyal at heart through all trial, 
 temptation, and loss. His daughter's position, as the reader 
 will perceive, was a pecuHar and painful one. 
 
 The journal was written during a long period of separation 
 from her husband. It presents a true picture of her life, and 
 commences with an extract from one of his letters to her. It is 
 full of minute details, which, from their beauty and simplicity, 
 have been left untouched. The old manuscript has been faith- 
 fully adhered to, the writer of this preface being confident that 
 
Preface, 
 
 its authenticity will not be doubted by those who, taking truth 
 and nature for their guide, can relish a plain tale plainly told. 
 
 It is questionable whether there could be found in our whole 
 country a spot where time has made so few changes, or custom 
 so little inroad, as in the region which was the scene of these 
 reminiscences. The habits and manners of its inhabitants are 
 unaltered. The same houses, the same furniture, the same farms, 
 the same trees, remain to this day. The spot where some 
 cruelty or outrage was committed is still pointed out, and the 
 very hearthstone is shown, under which lay hidden, until the 
 danger passed by, the little relics of the broken househcld family 
 plate, or perhaps all the money possessed by the needy owner. 
 
The Journal 
 
The Journal 
 
 1776 
 
 " V^TT'RITE from thy hearty Mary, from 
 the inmost recesses of it, that I may 
 look into it, as it laves^ hopes, thinks, fears, 
 that, though absent, thou mayest le near, and 
 that thy troubles, thy cares, may be shared., 
 though not alleviated, by one whom thou lovest, 
 and who laves thee" 
 
 The request shall be granted; each 
 day a page in the journal, or a letter to 
 my husband. 
 
 Still at the Parsonage with my three 
 precious children; already heart-weary 
 
 September. 
 
1776 American Revolution. 
 
 at your absence, but striving to keep 
 up courage. To-day received intelli- 
 gence of the unfortunate affair of Brook- 
 lyn. What a skilful movement was 
 that of General Washington — a won- 
 derful retreat I — the enemy so near that 
 the sound of their pickaxes and shovels 
 could be heard ! It is a new proof of 
 his cool forethought and judgment. 
 The heavy fog seemed to fall provi- 
 dentially. May we not accept it as an 
 omen that our leader is the favored of 
 Heaven ? 
 
 In this quiet nook where we had 
 hoped to find peace and safety, we shall 
 have disturbance, fear, and danger; since 
 the enemy have possession of the island, 
 there can be no doubt of it, but to some 
 extent my father's neutral stand, and 
 sacred profession, will protect us. 
 
 As we have moved to this place, dear 
 
American Revoluti 
 
 on. 
 
 1776 
 
 Edward, since you left us, I t±iink it 
 will be agreeable to you to have some 
 little description of it. It is a low- 
 roofed, Dutch style of house, with its 
 gable to the road; white-washed and 
 covered with sweetbriar and creeping 
 vines of many kinds; and my father has 
 planted the ivy, which came from his 
 dear Old England. It grows slowly, 
 and the children love to pick its glossy 
 leaves, and carry them to grandpa. At 
 the sight of them, his heart of tender- 
 ness reverts to early days ; he tells them 
 of the old castles, and grey ruins it man- 
 tles over the sea, and of the one which 
 overgrew the cottage where he was born. 
 The thoughts of my dear, honored 
 parent remind me of a brave old tree 
 torn up by its roots, and transplanted 
 into a foreign soil ; it may not die, but 
 it has a sickly appearance, and its leaves 
 
17/6 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 have lost their living green, and are pale 
 and yellow. 
 
 The front door opens into a hall of 
 moderate size. On the right is the par- 
 lor; back of it my father's study, while 
 on the other side is the dining-room 
 and bed-room, and in the wing the 
 kitchen. The rooms above are spa- 
 cious and convenient, the windows at 
 the end being large, admitting air and 
 light. Across the front of the dwelling 
 runs a piazza, or covered porch. Here 
 we sit and sew, and talk, and read. 
 My father tells me the news, which he 
 gathers in his walks in the neighbor- 
 hood; and I read to him portions of 
 your letters, which indeed is but seldom, 
 because they are so few. His breast is, 
 I think, agitated by contending emo- 
 tions. He is attached to the land of his 
 adoption, and can sympathize in her dis- 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 tress, but naturally his first, his dearest 
 affections, were given to the land of 
 his birth. Can we censure this? call 
 it infatuation, blindness? Oh no I I 
 honor my father for the sentiment. 
 Do not condemn it, Edward. We love 
 this, our native land, the native country 
 of my mother, of both your parents. 
 Her cause seems to us a righteous one. 
 She is over-taxed, oppressed, insulted; 
 my father feels this, he is indignant at 
 it; yet, in his character of ambassador 
 of Christ, follower of the Crucified, as 
 well as by nature's instinct, he liates the 
 sin, while he loves the sinner. They 
 seem (the English) the foes of our own 
 household to him; brother lifting up 
 sword against brother, in unnatural war- 
 fare, which he prays may speedily come 
 to an end ! 
 
1776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 October 3^. 
 
 "PJEAR, dear husband ! was there ever 
 anything so sorrowful, so dreadful, 
 as young Nathan Hale's fate "? Tears 
 are running down while I write. 
 
 Would that the enemy's designs could 
 have been discovered without so costly 
 a sacrifice ! Gen. Washington desired, 
 for he knew it to be of vital importance 
 to the Continental Forces, that some 
 one should penetrate the British Camp, 
 to discover their plans. 
 
 In the performance of this duty, the 
 flower of the army has fallen a victim 
 to British wrath and brutality. 
 
 Rhoda Pemberton wrote me that at 
 the time when Colonel Knowlton first 
 made known to the officers, the wish of 
 the Commander-in-Chief, a dead silence 
 prevailed ; and then Captain Hale 
 looked up and said, " I will undertake 
 it." It seemed, she said, against right 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 and nature to all his friends, and even to 
 strangers, that so young and gallant an 
 officer should go out on such service. 
 But young Hale said, " Every kind of 
 service for his country became honor- 
 able. It was desired by the Com- 
 mander of her armies." 
 
 Young Captain Hale left the camp at 
 Harlem Heights under General Wash- 
 ington's orders, late in last month, I 
 believe. 
 
 Before reaching the British lines he 
 assumed the dress of a school master; 
 he wore a suit of brown broad-cloth, and 
 a round broad-brimmed hat. 
 
 He took off his silver shoe buckles 
 too. His college diploma was in his 
 port-manteau, signed by the Reverend 
 Doctor JSTapthali Daggett of Yale Uni- 
 versity. 
 
 He passed, so Rhoda tells me, safely 
 
1776 
 
 American Revolution, 
 
 through the British Hnes, every where, 
 along the posts, and among the tents and 
 barracks, to Huntingdon, about nine 
 miles from this place. It was the place 
 from which he started a short time 
 before. A boat was to meet him, to 
 sail over to Connecticut Main. 
 
 The young man went down to the 
 shore at day-break in perfect security; 
 no doubt buoyed with joy at the success 
 of his enterprise. 
 
 He saw a boat moving shoreward. 
 // was the enemy I He did retreat, but 
 they cried out " Surrender, or Die." 
 
 An armed vessel, the " Halifax," stood 
 around the neck, out of sight. Thither 
 the young man was taken, and put in 
 irons. 
 
 His papers, .written in some dead lan- 
 guage (Latin, I believe), were under the 
 soles of his pumps. They betrayed him. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 The next morning at daybreak, after 
 he received sentence, he was executed. 
 
 " I only regret," he said, just before 
 he ascended to the gibbet, " that I 
 have but one life to lose for my coun- 
 try." 
 
 Rhoda gave me this account. She 
 says that Prevost Cunningham (the in- 
 human wretch I) called out, " Swing the 
 Rebel off I" 
 
 I cannot write this without weeping. 
 It was a noble testimony, but a bitter 
 necessity. So likely, so young, so 
 brave. 
 
 It was on the 2 1st of September '76. 
 They tore up the leLier he wrote to his 
 family, saying, the rebels should never 
 know they had a man in their army 
 who could die with such firmness. 
 
 25 
 
1776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 Tuesday. | ^T^HE Hessians have been ordered to 
 cut down all the saplings they can 
 find. They pile them along the road 
 about twelve feet high, then by pressing 
 teams and wagons, they cart it away to 
 forts and barracks at a distance. 
 
 It is a serious loss; in a few years 
 our farms will be without wood for use. 
 They (the Hessians) burn an immense 
 quantity; — even the rail-fences, unless 
 we take care to cut and cart wood for 
 their constant use. Keeping the fire 
 a-going all night, many a poor farmer 
 rises in the morning to find his cattle 
 strayed miles away, or his grain trampled 
 down and ruined I 
 
 Wednesday. A BOUT thirty miles to the eastward, 
 
 a countryman was met on the 
 
 road by a company of English soldier 
 
 ruffians, when they began to curse and 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 swear, and threaten to compel him to 
 say, "God save the king," which he 
 resolutely and unwisely refused to do; 
 though doubtless not counting on their 
 putting their threat into execution. 
 
 One of the villains, more in liquor 
 and more violent than the rest, stepped 
 up to the American, with a drawn sword, 
 which he kept flourishing over the poor 
 creature's head, and shouted, " Say it, or 
 
 ly you! re a dead man I " The villain 
 
 paused an instant ; the dumb silence of 
 the man continued, and the dreadful 
 threat was put into execution ! 
 
 I suppose there are many around us 
 who would have done the same thing. 
 Few, in this our day and generation, 
 pray for their enemies, not even " Good 
 King George!''^ 
 
1776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 Saturday. J^UTH FLOYD'S husband (you re- 
 member Ruth, my old friend) has 
 been murdered ! 
 
 She married Nathaniel Woodhull. 
 He was elected last year President of 
 the Provincial Congress. There are no 
 bounds to the indignation and horror. 
 A pattern of Christian meekness must 
 he or she be, to be able to forgive and 
 pray for such enemies. But that God 
 will turn their hearts I do most fervently 
 implore. 
 
 I jot down a few of the particulars, 
 although it is a painful task. 
 
 His duty was to drive the live stock 
 from the shore to the interior of the 
 island, out of the reach of the enemy. 
 
 Being poorly off for men, he was 
 forced to wait a reinforcement at 
 Jamaica. He was Brigadier-General of 
 Suffolk and Oueens. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 The General fell a victim to his high 
 sense of honour. He refused to aban- 
 don his perilous post, while any hope 
 of reinforcement remained. 
 
 My father thinks that he would have 
 been justified in withdrawal. His force 
 was reduced to less than 100 men, from 
 'a desire to remove their families to 
 places of safety. 
 
 Those remaining, were worn down, 
 and their horses over-driven, in repelling 
 the ravaging parties of the enemy. The 
 British (landing at Gravesend) were 
 pouring over the Island in swarms, cut- 
 ting off communications with the Ame- 
 rican force at Brooklyn. 
 
 A severe thunder-storm compelled 
 him to take refuge in an inn near by. 
 He was overtaken by the 17th regiment 
 of British Dragoons. The General gave 
 up his sword in token of surrender. A 
 
1776 American Revolution, 
 
 ruffian ordered him to say, " God save 
 the King." The General replied, " God 
 save us all;" on which the cowardly 
 assassin brutally assaulted the defenceless 
 General with a broad-sword. 
 
 He would have killed him, but his 
 hand was arrested by an officer of more 
 magnanimity and honour. 
 
 One arm was horribly mangled, from 
 shoulder to hand. In this situation he 
 was dragged from place to place : at 
 length he was released from a filthy 
 little vessel used to transport live stock 
 for the use of the British army by the 
 enemy, and removed, mangled, bleeding, 
 and parched with fever-heat, to an inn 
 at Jamaica, Mrs. Hinchman's tavern. 
 
 She gave up the best room and bed 
 for the poor wounded General's use. 
 He begged her not to leave him alone 
 in the hands of the enemy. The 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 humane woman answered, " Don't be 
 uneasy, General; I don't expect to go 
 to bed to-night." 
 
 The next day he v/as taken westward 
 again. Mrs. Hinchman had dressed the 
 wounds, bandaged his head, which was 
 terribly cut, and the shattered arm. 
 
 At a half-way house, while the escort 
 regaled themselves within, the wounded 
 General was left with a guard, under the 
 horse-shed ! Here again woman acted 
 the part of the good Samaritan. Mrs. 
 Howard, the landlady, went out to 
 minister to the weak and fainting patriot. 
 
 She brought bread, and wine-sangaree, 
 and invited him with tender pity and soli- 
 citude, to partake of some refreshment. 
 
 The guard impudently asked, " If she 
 had nothing for them ?" 
 
 "I give to prisoners, you can luy^^ the 
 kind woman replied. 
 
17/6 
 
 American Rd'oh/tion. 
 
 The fainting General was conveyed 
 to New Utrecht. He felt himself ra- 
 pidly growing worse ; his little remain- 
 ing strength was fast ebbing. He 
 urgently requested that his wife might 
 be sent for. Strange to say, the request 
 was granted. The arm was cut off by 
 the surgeon, but mortification took 
 place, and the brave man breathed his 
 last, his wife, Ruth Floyd, having arrived 
 only in time to receive his dying 
 sigh. 
 
 Poor Ruth ! What must have been 
 her feelings when the news of her hus- 
 band's state reached Mastick I 
 
 Rhoda writes that she was wonder- 
 fully sustained, and showed great pre- 
 sence of mind. She (Ruth Woodhull) 
 caused a wagon-load of provisions to 
 be put up ; but little could her poor 
 husband partake of 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1776 
 
 General Woodhull lived Ibut a few 
 hours after she reached New Utrecht. 
 He was in the enemy's hospital, in a 
 comfortless, wretched condition. It was 
 his request, that Ruth should distribute 
 the provisions among the poor starved 
 American prisoners there, which she did, 
 and then placed her dear, lost husband's 
 body in the wagon, and went on her 
 lonely way home. 
 
 Poor woman I 
 
 Yet, as she slowly travelled that dreary 
 journey of 70 miles, in tears, there must 
 have been some comfort in the thought 
 that the precious remains of her gallant 
 husband were not left with the enemy, 
 to be denied the rites of sepulture ; but 
 that she could lay him by the side of his 
 forefathers, in the family burial-place; 
 in hope, and honourable pride, that for 
 his country he had laid down his life. 
 
1776 
 
 American Resolution. 
 
 Thursday. /^NCE a month the Hessians go 
 to head-quarters for their rations, 
 including spirits, and then for three days 
 they are for the most part given up to 
 intoxication, and we have trying and 
 grievous scenes to go through ; fighting, 
 brawls, drumming and fifing, and danc- 
 ing the night long ; card and dice play- 
 nig, and every abomination going on 
 under our very roofs ! The noise from 
 the kitchen, which they always occupy, 
 is terrifying. The door opening into 
 the rest of the house is nailed fast, but 
 the inmates are continually in dread of 
 having their dwelUngs burnt over their 
 heads. 
 
 Friday 'T^HE Pattisons had a fine young 
 Morning. heifer killed during the night. 
 
 Some of the family heard the noise, but 
 thought it most prudent not to make 
 
Amencan Revolution, 
 
 1776 
 
 any resistance. The creature was drawn 
 and quartered in the barn. What bold- 
 ness! 
 
 Mrs. Clement, the wife of James Cle- 
 ment, was alone in the house with her 
 children yesterday, about two miles 
 hence, when an officer rode up, dis- 
 mounted, and entered. He told her 
 very civilly that he wanted supper for 
 his company (about sixty men). She 
 politely declined. He then began to 
 insist, and at length said they slioulcl 
 come. Mrs. Clement repHed that it 
 was out of the question. She had no- 
 thing prepared ; no person to assist her, 
 and four little children to take care of 
 Still he rode off, saying they would be 
 back in an hour for supper, and if she 
 did not get it ready, she must take the 
 consequences. 
 
 She sat in fear and trembling through 
 2 35 
 
1776 
 
 American Rcrcolution. 
 
 the hour, and her helplessness overcame 
 her so, that she could not resist tears 
 most of the time, though she tried to 
 put her trust in the Lord, that He would 
 deliver from her distress. 
 
 She thought it would be well if she 
 could take her children and leave the 
 house, but the nearest neighbor was a 
 mile by the road, though only half that 
 distance through the woods. But the 
 wood was often infested with robbers, 
 and the very thought of going that way 
 made her shudder. In her state of 
 weakness and fear she was quite unable 
 to carry her baby, and the three Httle 
 ones were unable to walk the distance 
 of a mile. So she determined to wait 
 the event, and when the British came 
 to tell them the truth. 
 
 Whether they found a better prospect 
 elsewhere, or what the seeming cause 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 was, I cannot say; but they did not 
 return, and I cannot help believing 
 that they were providentially deterred 
 from so doing. 
 
 T HAVE to-day to record deeds of 
 horror, and of heroism, seldom 
 equalled. 
 
 The house of' Mr. Wilmot Oakley, 
 near Cold Spring, was attacked last 
 night. He had long expected, and was 
 prepared to meet, the attack, being pro- 
 verbially brave and powerful. 
 
 The robbers forced open the front 
 door, and entered the sitting-room, ad- 
 joining Mr. and Mrs. Oakley's bed- 
 room. Two loaded guns stood in the 
 corner of the room. The robbers were 
 armed with pistols and swords. On 
 opening the door, Mr. Oakley saw three 
 men, one of whom called out, " Surren- 
 
 Saturday. 
 
1776 Americari Revolution, 
 
 der, and give up your money I" Not: 
 he. They had this time met their equal 
 in daring — the man to fight it out, and 
 the woman too ! 
 
 Mr. Oakley fired his gun, and one of 
 the intruders his pistol, which triflingly 
 grazed the ear of Mr. Oakley. He 
 handed his wife the gun, and took from 
 her the loaded one ; fired it off, and his 
 man fell. While she reloaded, he warded 
 the other two of the rascals off with the 
 gun in his hand. He then took the gun 
 again loaded by Mrs. Oakley, fired, and 
 the second man reeled and fell. The 
 other man, seeing one of his comrades 
 dead and the other fallen, ran out of 
 the house, Mr. Oakley (with his gun 
 reloaded) after him, fired at him as he 
 was running on the road. The next 
 morning traces of blood were seen in 
 the road and on the fence, so that there 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 is little doubt that he was wounded, 
 though he escaped* 
 
 I am glad to say every effort was 
 made to save the life of the robber, who 
 lay in a dreadful condition on the floor 
 of the parlor, but it proved unavailing. 
 He followed his companion in wicked- 
 ness before the light of day. 
 
 J^ATION-DAY. The Hessians bor- 
 rowed a young horse of Mr. Pat- 
 tison, to fetch home their rations, taking 
 a pail for the liquor. After two hours' 
 absence they drove up, cursing with 
 rage at the horse, and whipping the 
 poor creature most unmercifully. The 
 reason was soon manifest. It seems, 
 just as one of them had set the pail of 
 spirits in the wagon, the young horse 
 reared on his hind legs, and upset the 
 whole ! 
 
 Tuesday, 
 \6th Oct, 
 
//' 
 
 Am 
 
 encan 
 
 Revolution. 
 
 We could scarcely conceal our plea- 
 sure on hearing this, well knowing we 
 had escaped one horrible jollification at 
 all events, thanks to the high-mettled 
 animal. 
 
 IFednesday. /^HARLES accompanied John Har- 
 ris home from school, with my 
 permission, last night. He returned this 
 morning, with a story of the night, which 
 he related to me in breathless excite- 
 ment. 
 
 A family living a mile from us were 
 quietly sitting together in the evening, 
 when a noise was heard at the door like 
 that of a sharp instrument thrust into it. 
 On opening the door, there stood a red- 
 coat with his sabre in his hand, which 
 he had stuck into the wood an inch or 
 two. He was backed by a dozen men. 
 They pushed their way in, and were 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 very unruly, rummaging and ransacking 
 every drawer and closet ; but the family 
 had long before taken the precaution to 
 place all their valuables and money in a 
 small room, which opened out of the 
 common sitting-room, putting a large 
 cupboard before the door, which covered 
 it entirely; so that the Hessians quar- 
 tered there last winter never discovered 
 the existence of the room. A cunning 
 device. 
 
 The red-coats, highly enraged at find- 
 ing nothing, began to threaten terrible 
 things if they did not divulge the hiding 
 place. Mr. W. told them, that if they 
 dared do any violence he would report 
 them to the commanding officer ; where- 
 upon they actually went into the kitchen, 
 kindled some hght wood, came out, and 
 set a burning brand at each corner of 
 the house.. The family were exceed- 
 
1776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 Ingly alarmed. In great terror, Sarah, 
 the youngest daughter, rushed out. She 
 is famed through all the north side for 
 her comeliness. I can well imagine that 
 she must have appeared to them like a 
 lovely apparition, with her flashing eye 
 and glowing cheek. The ringleader, 
 astonished, stood with a torch in his 
 hand, gazing at her. 
 
 At length he said, " Angel I " 
 
 " Stop, I entreat you," said Sarah. 
 His looks were riveted upon her in 
 ardent admiration, which embarrassed 
 her. 
 
 "I will, on one condition," said .he. 
 
 "What is it?" said she. 
 
 "Will you grant it?" 
 
 " If I can," replied Sarah. 
 
 " It is, that you will allow me to kiss 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, if that is all," said her father, 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 "comply, my daughter." So, as she 
 made no resistance, the rough soldier 
 planted a fervent kiss on her lips, ex- 
 pressed himself satisfied, and departed. 
 
 They found before her baby-house 
 that the soldiers had stuck the dolls on 
 their bayonets, and railed among them- 
 selves and laughed. 
 
 It is seldom that a man's house is 
 attacked more than once. Mr. Harris 
 had his turn some time ago ; therefore, 
 although he saw some suspicious-looking 
 persons lurking about, he feared nothing, 
 and rose before daylight, with the inten- 
 tion of going to the south of the island 
 for salt hay. 
 
 Mrs. Harris, however, began to feel 
 uneasy and timid, from the reports she 
 heard during the day, and the recollec- 
 tion of her never-to-be-forgotten injuries, 
 and persuaded her husband to remain at 
 
1776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 home. That night passed without dis- 
 turbance. 
 
 About nine o'clock the next evening, 
 a neighbor stopped at the gate in his 
 wagon, and he and Mr. Harris were 
 running over the exciting times and 
 scenes enacting round the country, when 
 they saw a man moving about the fields, 
 and peering out of the edge of the 
 woods now and then. One of the iserv- 
 ing women, too, had seen some one 
 about dusk standing close by the wood- 
 pile, who vanished on her appearance at 
 the door of the kitchen. In consequence 
 of these signs, Mr. Harris concluded not 
 to retire, but to sit up and keep lights 
 and fires burning about the house. 
 
 Charles and the other children were 
 sent to bed, but not to sleep ; that was 
 impossible, with their perturbed and 
 
 excited imaginations. 
 
 44 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 About twelve o'clock, Mr. Harris 
 being on the look out, saw a man at a 
 short distance from the house, appa- 
 rently reconnoitring; he now held a 
 council with his wife and the two hired 
 men. 
 
 They came to the conclusion that an 
 attack was intended, and that it was 
 time to act; and they determined to 
 leave the house in a body, taking the 
 two guns, loaded, the money, silver, and 
 small valuables. 
 
 Though the next house was full a 
 
 half mile off, there seemed no other 
 
 alternative. The poor little frightened 
 
 children were hurried up and dressed; 
 
 their fears and cries were hushed, and 
 
 they were carried down stairs. As 
 
 quietly as possible all left the house by 
 
 the back door. 
 
 It was a moment of intense anxiety ; 
 
 45 
 
1 77^ American Revolution. 
 
 their hearts beat with dread and terror. 
 With trembling Hmbs, that almost re- 
 fused to bear them, they slowly and 
 painfully moved on. "Faint, though 
 pursuing," they endeavored to stay their 
 minds above. 
 
 At length arrived at Mr. S.'s, another 
 difficulty presented itself The family 
 would inevitably take them for robbers, 
 and be liable to fire upon them. 
 
 In this dilemma Mr. Harris thought 
 it best to go close to the door, and call 
 out his name, trusting that his voice 
 would be recognised, which was the 
 case. 
 
 The poor wanderers were warmly re- 
 ceived, and provided with comfortable 
 beds, after they had talked over their 
 fright. 
 
 The house of Mr. S. has never been 
 attacked, it is so well secured, the doors 
 
 46 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 and windows being lined and barred 
 with iron, which is well known. 
 
 A new source of trouble has appeared 
 on the south side — kidnapping negroes. 
 
 The ruffians come in sloops from the 
 Delaware and Maryland country, and 
 landing on the island in the night, they 
 steal the poor creatures while asleep, 
 after the labor of cutting the salt mea- 
 dow grass for their masters. When they 
 get them away, they sell them at the 
 South. 
 
 A week since, while the men were at 
 work, four persons, in broad day, their 
 faces blackened, and dressed like ne- 
 groes, appeared suddenly, each armed 
 with a gun, and before the others could 
 come to the rescue, a man and a boy 
 were forcibly taken, put in a boat, and 
 rowed off to a cutter out at sea. On 
 the deck the villains could be seen 
 
1776 
 
 American Resolution. 
 
 putting chains on the poor creatures. I 
 tremble at the thought of the future ! 
 
 Wednesday^ 
 
 Nov. 2\th. 
 
 YESTERDAY my indignation was 
 aroused to a high degree. I was 
 sitting in the end of the porch, my father 
 at my side, and Httle Mary, with your 
 letter in her hands, which she was 
 pretending to read, when a loud cry 
 startled us. It seemed to come from 
 neighbor Pattison's, our nearest neigh- 
 bor. Charles went over, returned, and 
 gave us this account of the affair. It 
 appears that Edmund Pattison was enjoy- 
 ing his noon rest quietly in the barn (he 
 is a noble-looking lad of eighteen, tall 
 and athletic, and of a high spirit), when 
 a light-horseman rode up to the door. 
 " Youngster," said he, " make haste 
 and bestir yourself Go and assist the 
 driver of the two yoke of oxen there to 
 
Ajnerican Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 unload his cart of the timber into the 
 road." 
 
 Now Edmund had been hard at work 
 with his own hired man, loading the 
 wagon to take the timber to a farmer 
 three miles off, to whom it was sold by 
 his father; the waggon and teams both 
 belonged to the Pattisons. 
 
 " Hurry, sir," said the light-horseman. 
 
 Edmund firmly replied, " I shall not 
 do it." 
 
 " What, sirrah ! we shall see who will 
 do it ; " and drawing his sword, he held 
 it over the head of Edmund, cursing 
 and swearing, and threatening to cut 
 him down, unless he instantly unloaded, 
 and took his team, and helped to carry 
 in it provisions for the army. 
 
 With unblanched cheek Edmund Pat- 
 tison reiterated his denial, and told him 
 to do it himself 
 
1776 
 
 Anierican Revolutk 
 
 on. 
 
 Incensed and enraged beyond mea- 
 sure at such a contempt of orders, it 
 seemed as though the man must strike 
 and kill the stubborn boy, who, firm 
 and undaunted, said not a word. 
 
 At this time our Charles, who was on 
 the spot, ran to the house and told Mrs. 
 Pattison that " the Britisher was going to 
 kill her Edmund." 
 
 Her cry it was that we heard from the 
 porch. She ran to the barn, and begged 
 the soldier to desist. He was more 
 furious than ever, supposing the fear of 
 the mother would induce compliance ; 
 she too expostulated with her son, im- 
 ploring him to assist in unloading the 
 wagon, and save himself from death. 
 
 "No fear of death, mother; he dare 
 not touch a hair of my head." The 
 boy was more determined than before, 
 and the soldier more enraged, flourish- 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1776 
 
 ing his sabre, and swearing that he would 
 be the death of him. 
 
 " You dare not. I will report you to 
 your master for this," said Edmund, very 
 boldly. Upon this the light-horseman 
 mounted his horse, and told the brave 
 Edmund once more, that if he did not 
 instantly comply with his request he 
 would cut him into inch pieces ! 
 
 Edmund coolly walked across the 
 barn-floor, armed himself with a huge 
 pitchfork, and took his station in the 
 doorway. 
 
 " You cowardly rascal," said he, " take 
 one step towards this floor, and I stab 
 you with my pitchfork ! " 
 
 His mother could endure the scene 
 no longer ; she ran to the house, where 
 she met her husband, and sent him to 
 rescue Edmund. Friend Pattison, a sen- 
 sible, clear-headed man, rode up, and 
 
776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 Saturday, 
 
 Nov. 27. 
 
 seeing matters at this high pass on both 
 sides, said to the Britisher, " You know 
 your duty, and have no right to lay a 
 finger on hi?n, a non-combatant on neu- 
 tral ground." 
 
 Seeing no signs of relenting, farmer 
 Pattison turned his horse into the direc- 
 tion of the road, and said he would soon 
 see Colonel Wurms, and know wlio had 
 the power to abuse and threaten the far- 
 mers of the country in such a manner. 
 
 The light-horseman was now alarmed, 
 and thinking it best to get there first, 
 
 put spurs into his horse, and rode off, 
 
 uttering awful imprecations. 
 
 Thus this time Edmund escaped, 
 
 though I very much fear his defying, 
 
 fearless spirit may yet cost him dear. 
 
 "DECEIVED a few hasty lines from 
 White Plains. They mention an 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 engagement on the 28th October; "re- 
 treated with loss." The aspect of affairs 
 is gloomy indeed. I cannot but feel 
 despondent. Where is it to end., and how ? 
 The army is greatly reduced by killed, 
 wounded, and taken, and those whose 
 enlistments have expired daily leaving; 
 the poor creatures remaining, many 
 without shoes or comfortable clothing, 
 are sadly disheartened. The enemy 
 have possession of the city of New 
 York, of Staten Island, and of Long 
 Island. Who can look without trem- 
 bling at the failure of this struggle to 
 throw off our yoke ? The reins drawn 
 tighter, more oppressed and . circum- 
 scribed, and the examples made of 
 rebels — it is fearful to think of 
 
 It must have been an affecting sight 
 to witness the enthusiasm of the poor, 
 barefooted, ragged, hungry troops, toss- 
 
1776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 Ing up their crownless hats in the air, 
 when, on his white charger, the general 
 rode into camp ! 
 
 I will confess a womanly admiration 
 of a noble exterior. Washington's in- 
 fluence and authority must be enhanced 
 by his gallant bearing and commanding 
 figure, as he sits his proud steed. 
 
 You never look at the possibility of 
 failure. It is the cause of liberty, the 
 cause of humanity; yet your letter 
 breathes discouragement. We are so 
 far separated, there is so much uncer- 
 tainty, and war is so sorrowful, that I 
 sometimes feel a longing to fly with you 
 to a place of peace and safety. 
 
 Adieu! The little ones are well; 
 they (blissful things!) know not the 
 care and anxiety of 
 
 Your fond and foreboding wife. 
 
 54 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 ''pHE depredations, robberies, and not 
 seldom murders, committed by the 
 Cow-Boys and Runners, are alarming, 
 and exasperating the people in the ex- 
 treme. The farmers suffer dreadfully 
 from the levying, taxing, and quartering 
 upon them of the Hessians and British 
 soldiers. They are very insolent, mak- 
 ing most unreasonable demands, and the 
 meek-spirited, unresisting Quakers are 
 martyrs to their lawlessness and rapacity. 
 There are two homesteads besides our 
 own which border The Pond. It is a 
 beautiful little sheet of water. My 
 father often says it would, in the old 
 countries, be called a lake, tarn, or some 
 other pretty name. Well, it would not 
 any more enliven our prospect as it spar- 
 kles in the sun, and grows dark and 
 shadowy in the twilight. Nor would 
 Charley delight the more to sail his 
 
 December. 
 
1776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 mimic ship, or paddle the canoe upon 
 its bosom, than he does now the Kve- 
 long day. There is a small island in 
 the centre, which is called after the silly 
 birds which dearly love to swim the 
 water, land thereon, flap and dry their 
 wings, and scream their pleasure — Goose 
 Island. 
 
 Monday. JJENRY PATTISON, the nearest 
 neighbor, has eight sturdy sons, and 
 one little timid daughter. He belongs to 
 the Society of Friends, is a fine specimen 
 of humanity, owns a valuable farm, yet 
 has a pretty hard struggle to bring up 
 his large family. He was beginning to 
 prosper a little, when the war began; 
 but he is a mild, patient, pious man, 
 consulted in all troubles and difficulties 
 the whole country round ; has prevented 
 much going to law; visits the sick in 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 soul and in body, and relieves them by 
 his judicious advice, temporal and spi- 
 ritual. He is called hereabouts The 
 Peace-Maker. 
 
 Friend Pattison appears to have nei- 
 ther "part nor lot" in the struggle in 
 which the country is engaged. How 
 strange ! ^ole a man^ and remain neutral! 
 His soul abhors War. This principle of 
 their sect is enrooted in his breast. Yet 
 he is a severe sufferer from it. Six Hes- 
 sians are quartered upon him. They 
 took possession of the kitchen; swung 
 up their hammocks; cook his (the far- 
 mer's) food, and hang about, smoking 
 and drinking the live-long day. Dear, 
 how annoying ! When shall we be rid 
 of them *? 
 
 QENERAL HOWE has issued a 
 
 proclamation offering pardon to 
 
 3^ 57 
 
 Thursday. 
 
1776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 all who will submit to royal authority. 
 Pardon ! for what ? A just indignation 
 against rights trampled upon ! 
 
 It is said that many wealthy and influ- 
 ential persons have deserted the Ameri- 
 can cause. It is indeed a gloomy hour ! 
 But we must triumph. The descendants 
 of those who sought here a peaceful 
 asylum from oppression, — Huguenots, 
 Puritans, Covenanters, — will not submit 
 to oppression here. They will defend 
 it with their lives. The ocean rolled 
 between them and their tyrants, tlien^ 
 as it will again. It is God's decree that 
 this people shall be free. The broad 
 lands of this new continent are destined 
 to all time to be the asylum of the 
 Persecuted, the Poor, the Suffering I 
 Tyranny here shall never hold his bale- 
 ful sway I 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 T^HE impressments of men, horses, 
 and wagons, to carry provender, 
 hay, and soldiers, about the country, are 
 unceasingly going on. When the dread- 
 ful work begins, the light-horseman is 
 seen flying like lightning from house to 
 house; the men take the alarm, and 
 make every effort to get out of the way, 
 and to hide their horses and wagons. It 
 is very difficult. Many a noble animal 
 is ruined, worked to death. When the 
 farmers are once caught, and receive 
 orders, they dare not disobey, for perse- 
 cution is sure to follow. They receive 
 less injury by complying. 
 
 Monday. 
 
 JgDITH PATTISON came over to 
 the Parsonage to-day for the first 
 time. She is a sweet young Quakeress ; 
 her pure, lovely, and attractive looks are 
 indeed winning. She wore a silvery 
 
 Tuesday, 
 
1776 
 
 American Rcvoh^tion. 
 
 drab poplin ; the sleeves came just above 
 the elbow, a little white frill below ; her 
 arms are round and white. She wears 
 always a neat gauze cap ; it is thought 
 unseemly in their Society that a young 
 woman's head should be uncovered. 
 She is very fair, though her hair and 
 eyes are dark ; her aspect is mild, gentle, 
 and pensive. I can describe to you the 
 outline of Edith's features, but not the 
 spiritual expression of her face. She is 
 made a perfect lady of by her eight 
 doting brothers. They will fetch, and 
 carry, and run for their beautiful sister, 
 as though she were a queen. And when 
 you look at her, you do not think it 
 strange, her air and mien are so serene, 
 and dignity sits enthroned upon her 
 brow. 
 
 Doubtless when you read my Journal, 
 penned for your eye, you will exclaim. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 " How could she calmly write these de- 
 tails in stirring times like these ? " But 
 remember, Edward, I must be occupied 
 about something; it beguiles the atten- 
 tion, and keeps off sad thoughts of 
 you, which, when I give way to them, 
 rend my heart. My precious father's 
 peace is disturbed, and even the dear 
 children appear to participate in the 
 foreboding gloom. 
 
 'T'O-DAY little Marcia found me weep- 
 ing over your miniature. She took 
 it out of my hand, and covering it with 
 kisses, said, " Oh, that is my dear papa. 
 He is a brave man, is he not, mamma ? 
 and the best man too that ever lived. 
 When will he come back ? " 
 
 This prattle will be sweet to your 
 ears, for it comes from the heart. 
 
 Thursday 
 
1776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 Sunday. 'T^HE church was opened for divine 
 service to-day. It was unusually 
 solemn; many officers and soldiers 
 attended ; they were serious and atten- 
 tive. 
 
 Our beautiful clover-field is trampled 
 upon and ruined. My dear father was 
 so fond of its luxuriance I When the 
 dew was on it, the air came laden 
 with delicious odor, regaling us when we 
 sat in the porch. The children used to 
 make posies and wreaths of the large red 
 and white flowers, and often expatiated 
 fondly and gratefully on the rich feast 
 preparing for the horse and brindle cow, 
 by Him who "giveth the early and the 
 latter rain." The clover-seed came from 
 England. While in church a company 
 of fifty horsemen rode into the field, 
 and quite cropped and destroyed it. I 
 have persuaded my father to make 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 complaint to Colonel Wurms ; but there 
 is no redress. 
 
 A PRESS for horses yesterday. I 
 will relate how Charley saved our 
 young horse. He and James Pattison 
 were idly sitting on the fence, the other 
 side of the pond, talking indignantly 
 of the insults of the British, to whom 
 the former shows no mercy, when they 
 espied a light-horseman at the door of a 
 farm-house. They knew the next place 
 would be Isaac Willetts', which, though 
 only across the pond, is completely hid 
 from our view by a stately row of pop- 
 lars, which forms a leafy screen; and 
 they knew his errand too, that he would 
 be here in an instant, for when "press- 
 ing," they gallop from house to house 
 with violent speed. 
 
 " Fleetfoot shall not go," said Charles, 
 
 Tuesday. 
 
1776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 "without an effort to save him;" and 
 running with all his might to the barn, 
 he jumped on his back, and made for 
 the woods. 
 
 On the instant he was seen by the 
 red-coat, who put spurs to his horse, 
 and came on a full run towards the 
 woods, where Charles had disappeared. 
 My heart beat quick when the red-coat 
 too was lost to sight. My dear, brave 
 child might fall from his horse and be 
 dashed against the trees, in the hot pur- 
 suit of the hght-horseman. 
 
 My father and I sat gazing intently 
 towards the woods, awaiting the result 
 in breathless anxiety, astonished at the 
 boy's daring, and ready to reprove his 
 rash spirit in attempting to save the 
 young horse at the risk of his own 
 safety. 
 
 In about an hour's time we saw the 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1776 
 
 red-coat come out of the woods below; 
 he stopped a man In the road, and made 
 inquiries, but getting no satisfaction, 
 rode off, muttering curses. 
 
 At nightfall, peeping his way through 
 the wood, Charles made his appearance, 
 still mounted on his favorite Fleetfoot. 
 By signs we made known to him that 
 the danger had passed, and he rode up 
 to the house. Overjoyed to see him, 
 he told us his story, which Grace and 
 Marcia drank in with greedy ears. In- 
 deed the scene in the porch was worthy 
 of Hogarth's pencil. On one side was 
 his pale affrighted mother, and the little 
 girls, with eyes open v/ide and full of 
 wonder; near by, the venerable grand- 
 father, with silver locks parted upon a 
 peaceful brow, and Charley standing 
 close to his. steed, as he recounted his 
 wrongs and hairbreadth escape, leaning 
 
776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 his head occasionally against his proud 
 neck, so that my son's curls of gold 
 mingled with the ebon mane of Fleet- 
 foot. 
 
 He said that he struck deeper and 
 deeper into the woods, going from one 
 piece to another, until the forest became 
 very dense and dark. He rode into a 
 tangled, marshy place, where he stood 
 five hours without moving I 
 
 At one time he heard his pursuer 
 close by ; heard his fearful oaths, heard 
 him lashing the sides of his own jaded 
 horse. Charley's heart beat violently. 
 But the bog was wet and gloomy, and 
 the soldier's ardor was dampened — he 
 durst not venture. So Charles and 
 Fleetfoot were left to themselves in 
 the deep wood. A brave feat for a 
 boy of fourteen ! 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 AN officer of high rank is in winter 
 quarters with us; resistance is out 
 of the question; wounded and ill, we 
 deeply sympathize with him. Foe or 
 friend, he must be cared for compas- 
 sionately. 
 
 jyjAJOR MUSGRAVE has two ser- 
 vants. They attend upon him 
 assiduously, but we can minister to the 
 mind of the poor gentleman, and by 
 reading and conversing, can beguile him 
 sometimes of the thought of his situa- 
 tion. 
 
 Oh, dear husband, war is a weari- 
 ness ! Its effects sicken the soul. Every 
 hour some fresh account of murder, 
 robbery, wounding, destroying, depre- 
 dating ! 
 
 When will this unnatural warfare be 
 at an end *? 
 
 1776 
 
 December. 
 
 Tuesday 
 
1776 
 
 A^ncrican Revolution. 
 
 JVednesdax. 
 
 jy[AJOR MUSGRAVE is very ill 
 to-day, but yet considerate, and 
 full of the thoughtful courtesy of the gen- 
 tleman. What a blessed thing it is, that 
 national animosity can be lost sight of, 
 forgotten, in sorrow and compassion for 
 a fellow-creature's distress I It leads me 
 constantly to bring home to my own 
 thoughts and feehngs the idea of a 
 beloved husband, child, or brother, in 
 such a situation, away from me and all 
 that he loved ; amid those against whom 
 his hand had been raised in warfare ; 
 wounded, ill, in pain, and anguish of 
 spirit. Should I not cherish, in the deep 
 places of my heart, an everlasting grati- 
 tude ? And should I not teach it reli- 
 giously to my children, to those who had 
 thus ministered unto mine own ? 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 "^'O public news this many a day. 
 My womanish fears, as you name 
 them, get the better of me. The dis- 
 parity between the contending parties Is 
 so Immense. The mother country, the 
 first maritime power on the globe; her 
 great wealth, vast resources, well disci- 
 plined armies, experienced military and 
 naval commanders. What have the 
 Colonies to oppose to such an array of 
 means and power ? 
 
 Inexperienced officers; raw, undisci- 
 pHned troops; scant arms and muni- 
 tions of war; small revenue ; few armed 
 ships I 
 
 Be still, my anxious heart I "All 
 things are possible to them that believe." 
 "By faith we can remove mountains." 
 Mountains they appear when we look 
 at human means, which seem utterly 
 inadequate. But "the race is not to 
 
 Friday. 
 
1776 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 the swift, nor the battle to the strong." 
 What is this struggle of the Colonies ? 
 Is it a war of aggression, of cupidity, of 
 conquest, of fierce passion, for tyranny 
 and despotic sway? No — it is the 
 noble endeavor, the strong purpose, 
 founded in inalienable right, to throw 
 off a galling yoke unjustly and perse- 
 veringly imposed. It is the cry of 
 humanity against oppression, usurped 
 power, insolence, and rapacity. Will 
 it prevail, or will it be smothered? 
 Will those evils, from which our fathers 
 fled to this new-found country, like 
 hydra-headed monsters, raise here their 
 heads, nor be smitten ? 
 
 Monday. ^HE neighbors feel in Major Mus- 
 grave an involuntary interest. Sym- 
 pathy forms this .bond. They call often 
 to see him, and inquire about him, and 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1776 
 
 bring nice things to tempt the sick man's 
 appetite. Such attentions touch him 
 sensibly. The wound is very bad; it 
 has induced a high fever. He is patient 
 and uncomplaining, which is ten times 
 more touching than if he were cross and 
 irritable. 
 
 T CANNOT but be powerfully moved 
 by the wounded man who lies below. 
 His heroic patience in such deep suffer- 
 ing is to be greatly admired; also his 
 consideration of others in the midst of 
 it. He seems to forget himself, in 
 the dread of giving trouble and incon- 
 venience. My father says it is the gift 
 of God — Grace^ which enables him to 
 triumph over the pains of the body. I 
 asked Major Musgrave if he had always 
 endured suffering so patiently? He 
 replied, " I have not borne mental trials 
 
 Tuesday, 
 
//' 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 with patience or meekness ; they are more 
 difficult to endure than bodily pain." 
 He has before made allusion to some 
 great sorrow which he has experi- 
 enced. 
 
 D('c. 30///, 
 1776. 
 
 T^HE year has closed disastrous, 
 gloomy; panic and despair reign 
 in many a breast. All the future is un- 
 certain; none can foretell what another 
 year may bring forth. Our great com- 
 mander is still hopeful; although he 
 prays Congress for more effort and assist- 
 ance, he never speaks a discouraging 
 word as to the result of the struggle. 
 If Congress would appropriate more 
 money, and men could be enlisted on 
 longer terms, say during the war, and 
 properly equipped, greater things could 
 be done. Now, no sooner are they 
 organized, and become a little drilled, 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 than the term of enlistment expires, and 
 raw recruits take their place. 
 
 J^EWS of the Battle of Princeton. 
 My husband safe, thank Heaven I 
 General Washington victorious ; Gene- 
 ral Mercer mortally wounded I How the 
 thoughts of his loved ones rush to my 
 heart ! God have mercy upon them ! 
 The Commander-in-Chief, by his judg- 
 ment, skill, and cool intrepidity, has 
 struck the enemy with surprise. They 
 have looked with contempt on our raw 
 men, many of whom never saw a battle. 
 They expected to crush us; to quell 
 with ease, by their giant power, the 
 rebels, as the lord of the forest crushes 
 the insects beneath his feet. With all 
 Major Musgrave's politeness, this is dis- 
 coverable. 
 
 They forget the deep-rooted indigna- 
 
 4 7;j 
 
 777 
 
 Jan. i^t/i. 
 
1/77 
 
 Amcr'n \ in Revolution. 
 
 tion which burns in our breasts ; the 
 determination to be free, animating the 
 whole colonies with one heart and pur- 
 pose, to do and dare for liberty, or death I 
 
 Thursday. 'T^HE Major is rather better; the 
 w^ound appears to be healing, but 
 he is miserably weak and ill. I went 
 into his room to-day rather unexpect- 
 edly; he appeared to have a miniature 
 in his hand, and put it hastily aside. I 
 asked no questions, of course. 
 
 Friday, 
 
 QENERAL WASHINGTON has 
 
 completely dislodged the British 
 along the Delaware river, and recovered 
 almost the whole province of New Jer- 
 sey. Does it not teach man to look' to 
 Him, and remember who it is that 
 blesses the means, when to mortal view 
 they seem totally inadequate ? 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 ^111 
 
 /^UR trials in this quarter, I have no 
 doubt, appear to you trifling, and 
 insignificant. In comparison with the 
 great sacrifices and noble deeds now 
 enacting on a broader field, they are so. 
 Nevertheless they are irritating and ex- 
 asperating in the extreme, and hard to 
 be borne. Were I to undertake to 
 relate the injuries, insults, horrors, and 
 sufferings our poor farmers are subject 
 to, I should never finish the story. They 
 take the fence rails to burn, so that the 
 fields are all left open, and the cattle 
 stray away and are often lost ; burn fires 
 all night on the ground, and to replenish 
 them, go into the woods and cut down 
 all the young saplings, thereby destroy- 
 ing the growth of ages. But worse 
 than all, robbers come over from the 
 main shore in boats, and keep us in 
 constant alarm! They belong to no 
 
 Monday. 
 
1777 
 
 Aincr 
 
 'lean 
 
 Revolution. 
 
 party, and spare none; freebooters, 
 cowardly midnight assassins, incendi- 
 aries, indiscriminate, bold, and daring. 
 " Their hand is against every man, and 
 every man's hand is against them." 
 
 We have been spared as yet on ac- 
 count of the Hessians and officer, which 
 are quartered here, whom they fear. 
 Thus " some strange comfort every state 
 attends." 
 
 Wednesday. 
 
 T^HE soldiers take so much notice of 
 the children, that I fear lest they 
 should contract evil, especially Charles. 
 They have taught him to speak their 
 language ; he understands nearly all 
 their conversation. .They make pretty 
 willow baskets for Marcia and Grace, 
 and tell them of their own little ones at 
 home, over the stormy ocean. The 
 children are fond of them, and they feel 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1777 
 
 no enmity towards them. What is 
 more melancholy than the trade of a 
 hired soldier? I deeply commiserate 
 their wretched lot. Nothing to ennoble 
 the contest; no homes and hearths to 
 fight for; no country to save; no free- 
 dom to bleed and die for. It may be 
 " sweet and proper for our country to 
 die," as saith the old Roman, but it is 
 bitter servitude to risk life and limb for 
 lucre ; and revolting, sickening, to serve 
 in a cause by which we have nothing to 
 gain in victory, or to lose in defeat I 
 
 A MOST daring deed was perpe- 
 trated last night about a quarter of 
 a mile from us. Mr. Robert Lester is 
 a Tory, and has been somewhat active. 
 He was awakened at midnight by a 
 loud crash ; it was occasioned by an im- 
 mense stone thrown with violent force 
 
 Tuesday. 
 
1777 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 against the front door, which broke in. 
 The robbers efttered the house. They 
 ordered Mr. Lester to dress himself in- 
 stantly; he dared not disobey, being 
 completely in their power ; he was blind- 
 folded, taken to the harbor, placed in 
 the light craft which they call " whale- 
 boats," and rowed over to the main shore, 
 seven miles. The villains will sell him 
 to the Whig Committee of Safety. 
 
 Thursday. ^TPHE army in winter quarters at Mor- 
 ristown. Depredation and destruc- 
 tion going on about here. 
 
 Major Musgrave sits up an hour or 
 two every day; he powerfully awakens 
 my sympathy. Do not be frightened, 
 my husband. Pity, admiration of his 
 patient endurance, no other sentiment 
 can animate my breast. He is our coun- 
 try's foe, but circumstances have made 
 
American Rrooliitlon. 
 
 hiiii so; and he said to me this day, " It 
 is a wicked war, and if it please God to 
 raise me up, I shall never again engage 
 
 m it.' 
 
 1777 
 
 gPRING is again opening, and the 
 war seems just begun! 
 
 A young French nobleman has ar- 
 rived, having embraced voluntarily the 
 American cause ; the love of freedom, 
 and a desire to succor the oppressed, 
 were his only incentives. The Marquis 
 de la Fayette has been appointed a 
 Major-General. He is not twenty years 
 of age. A man of wealth, and used to 
 the luxury of a court. 
 
 Our cause assumes consequence in 
 the eyes of foreign powers. Even poor 
 Major Musgrave speaks with greater 
 moderation of probable success in quell- 
 ing "the revolt." 
 
 March 6th, 
 
/// 
 
 American Rrcolution. 
 
 Mofida] 
 
 TAMES PARKER, a farmer near by, 
 was driving home late last evening, 
 from the town; the night was uncom- 
 monly dark; he passed a large tree; 
 behind it stood a man with a loaded 
 gun. A voice called out to the travel- 
 ler to stop; it was unheeded. The 
 robber fired and hit him ; he fell off his 
 seat and expired ! 
 
 The horses took fright, and running 
 three miles, came to a noted tavern 
 kept by Increase Carpenter, where they 
 stopped under a shed, and stood still un- 
 til morning, when they were discovered 
 with their sad burthen, the dead man I 
 The goods in the wagon were of course 
 untouched, owing to the horses running 
 away. The indignation of the people 
 is without bounds, and very active mea- 
 sures of defence are talked of 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 ^111 
 
 T^O-DAY took Edith into Major Mus- 
 grave's room, he having expressed 
 a wish to see the kind lady who had sent 
 him so many dehcacies made by her 
 own hand. She has many admirers; 
 soldiers and ploughmen, lettered and 
 unlearned, the peaceful disciple of her 
 own quiet sect, and the officer with 
 epauletted shoulder and sword on side. 
 She is lovely and captivating, but 
 
 " Securely she smiles on the forward and bold. 
 They feel what they owe her, and feel it untold." 
 
 Yesterday I saw her pass the window 
 with a gallant at her side. The contrast 
 between them — she in her little close 
 bonnet, grey dress, and sober mien, and 
 the gay officer in scarlet regimentals — 
 was very striking. Edith's eyes were 
 cast down to the ground, while his were 
 fixed upon her sweet face pleadingly. 
 
 4* 81 
 
 Thursday. 
 
1777 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 I heard him say, in a low tone, " Oh, 
 Edith, how shall I win your favor ? " 
 
 I can tell him ; he will not win it 
 unless he relinquish the warrior's craft. 
 To Edith, all " the pomp and circum- 
 stance of glorious war" is shrouded in 
 gloom. "The shrill fife and spirit- 
 stirring drum " drowneth not in her ear 
 the groan of the wounded, the cry of 
 the dying. • Amid the din of arms, she 
 listeneth to the widow's wail ; and when 
 the shout of victory rises, she sees the 
 orphan's tears ! 
 
 ' Do you know, dear husband, that 
 papa and I are much of her way of 
 thinking of late? although it needed 
 not Edith's eloquent defence of peace 
 to convince us. I long for the hasten- 
 ing of the day when " the nations shall 
 not learn war any more, nor lift up 
 sword against nation; but the sword 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 ^111 
 
 shall be turned into the ploughshare, 
 and the spear into the pruning hook." 
 
 I suppose you will say, " So be it" — 
 after our independence is secured ! 
 
 /^UR vines are putting forth; the 
 grass is springing; all nature has 
 put on her lovely garb of green. The 
 children are full of joy; it is difficult to 
 keep them to their tasks ; but through 
 the long winter they have been more 
 industrious. Charles is quite a profi- 
 cient in study, his grandpa thinks. I 
 hope you may not have reason to be 
 ashamed of him. This weary absence 
 maketh sick the heart; but I will not 
 dwell upon the sad subject; it pains 
 you to hear me repine. I trust God in 
 his providence will so order the course 
 of events, that all will work together for 
 good. I will try to bear without mur- 
 
 Tuesday, 
 May I St, 
 
1777 
 
 American Revolutioji. 
 
 muring whatever He in his wisdom 
 may send. 
 
 ** They also serve who only stand and wait." 
 
 Tliursday. |^AJOR MUSGRAVE'S wound is 
 quite healed, but he is still low 
 and feeble. Nature appears to have 
 struggled hard with some deep inward 
 grief, which is striving for the mastery; 
 he has great fortitude, but may, notwith- 
 standing, sink under it. I fear so. I 
 would not for worlds intrude on his pri- 
 vate sorrows ; but oh, that I could share 
 and alleviate them I 
 
 Friday. 'IPHE farmers have devised a scheme 
 to make known through the neigh- 
 borhood the presence of the "Runners." 
 They are generally seen lurking about 
 at twilight, spying the points most favor- 
 able for attack ; if observed, they walk 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1777 
 
 on in an unconcerned manner, whistling 
 or singing. Sometimes they will stop, 
 and inquire the way to some place ; 
 suddenly disappearing, they are unex- 
 pectedly seen again in the edge of the 
 wood, or from behind a hay-stack in the 
 field, peering about, terrifying every 
 body, above all women and children. 
 These signs are not to be mistaken. 
 We are on our guard ; the " great gun " 
 with which all are provided, is loaded 
 and fired off. Pop I Pop I go the 
 answering guns for five miles round; 
 each house takes up the alarming tale, 
 and thus it spreads, warning of impend- 
 ing danger, and frightens away the 
 enemy, for that time at any rate. 
 
 "^EIGHBOR Pattison, of his peace- 
 loving spirit, and horror of the 
 " murderous weapon," hath made a large 
 
 85 
 
 Aug. i^th. 
 
1777 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 conch-shell do the office of a gun; it 
 makes a noble sound, and being close 
 in our vicinity, is a well-known signal. 
 Charles no sooner hears it, than he is on 
 the alert ; out comes papa's rusty great 
 gun, whose loud report is soon responded 
 to by the whole neighborhood. 
 
 Tuesday. r^ONGRESS has passed important 
 resolutions, and increased General 
 Washington's power, investing him with 
 unlimited command. They are endea- 
 voring to rouse the people by an impres- 
 sive Address. Benjamin Franklin, Silas 
 Deane, and Arthur Lee, are sent to so- 
 licit aid of foreign powers. 
 
 Wednesday. "jV/TAJOR MUSGRAVE seems very 
 
 feeble; it is doubtful whether he 
 
 survives the winter. 
 
 It is affecting to 
 
 see him, he is so weak and helpless, yet 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 ^111 
 
 patient and uncomplaining. On going 
 into his room to-day, he appeared to be 
 reading old letters, and was evidently 
 much moved. I assured him of my 
 hearty sympathy ; he said with emotion, 
 "Oh, dear madam, why do you pity 
 me ? yoii^ who know nought of the past." 
 
 " I do commiserate your present con- 
 dition ; is it not enough to call it forth ? " 
 
 " It may be," replied Major Mus- 
 grave. "But there are sufferings so 
 deep, that the lassitude and decay of 
 the body, although wrought by them, 
 are unheeded, swallowed up by their 
 intensity; even the pang of death is 
 subdued by the peace which it heralds." 
 
 As the Major did not offer to unbur- 
 den his mind to me, I took up Bishop 
 Jeremy Taylor*s "Holy Living and 
 Dying," which my father so delighteth 
 in, and asked whether I should read to 
 
J 777 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 him. He assented gratefully, and I read 
 an appropriate comforting passage. 
 
 September . 
 
 ine. 
 
 '^EWS of the battle of Brandywi 
 
 The troops mostly fought bravely, 
 but the day was against us. The young 
 French marquis is wounded; my hus- 
 band, I trust, is safe. Let me continue 
 to put my trust in the Almighty arm. 
 }ie only can deliver. 
 
 My father frequently sits an hour or 
 two with the Major, whose mind is 
 enriched to a degree that makes him 
 an instructive, as well as a delightful, 
 companion. Even religious subjects my 
 dear father does not avoid (he could 
 not if he would) ; he tells me that he 
 finds in the Major an understanding lis- 
 tener, appreciating states of mind and 
 points of faith, which he scarcely ex- 
 pected from one in his walk of life. 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 \\7'E were awakened in the dead of 
 night by the sound of the conch- 
 shell ! Oh, dear husband, I cannot de- 
 scribe to you our consternation. Our 
 turn, I thought, had at length come I 
 My first thought was my precious father, 
 old and feeble ; the second of the poor 
 Major. They have both rooms on the 
 first floor. The children clung to me 
 with terror. I felt so powerless! Not 
 so Charles, he was bold as a lion — your 
 true son! He promptly got out the 
 great gun, and loaded and fired it, which 
 more than all frightened poor Marcia, 
 and Grace. In vain I bade them be 
 pacified; they hid their faces in my 
 gown; the little things trembled with 
 fear. 
 
 Major Musgrave ordered his two men 
 to their points of defence. I persuaded 
 papa to go up stairs ; he appeared calm 
 
 1777 
 
 Nov, \otli. 
 
1777 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 and self-possessed amid our agitation. 
 We now listened intently ; not a sound 
 did we hear, but the ticking of the great 
 clock, and our own beating hearts. 
 Again and again we listened ; all was 
 still. We remained almost motionless 
 until the dawn of day. The first ray of 
 light was hailed with joy. Charles stole 
 over to neighbor Pattison's, expecting, 
 yet dreading to hear a tale of horror, 
 when lo I they greeted him with a great 
 burst of laughter! Now, what think 
 you was the cause, the innocent cause of 
 all this fear and consternation? Little 
 Joseph Pattison ! This is the story of 
 it: 
 
 At noon the elder boys, while stand- 
 ing around the porch, one after the other 
 had been trying the strength of their 
 lungs on the great conch-shell, calling 
 the hired men to their dinner. Joseph 
 
American Re'colutlon. 
 
 1777 
 
 was eagerly waiting Us turn, but it never 
 came at all. The meal was ready, the 
 shell was put away on the high shelf 
 over the door, and dinner over they 
 all went to work again. 
 
 Now little Joseph's imagination that 
 night, strongly impressed with his dis- 
 appointment, ran upon robbers, and the 
 urgent necessity of sounding the shell. 
 Up he sprang, ran down stairs, through 
 two rooms, still asleep, took a chair, 
 reached the conch, and blew it most 
 lustily outside the back door, which 
 roused the household. Down they 
 come, and their astonishment is great 
 to behold the little boy with the sea- 
 shell in his hand, and, though undressed 
 and barefooted, perspiration standing in 
 beads on his forehead from the violent 
 exertion I Would that our frights might 
 always prove as groundless ! 
 
^777 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 Monday. C\^ every Monday exercising is prac- 
 tised opposite our house. To-day, 
 when the manoeuvring w^as over, a man 
 who had been found intoxicated the 
 night before, was stripped and whipped 
 severely, with a rattan, till the blood 
 streamed down his back. Oh, it is 
 dreadful to witness such horrors I I 
 fled from the sight, but the heart-pierc- 
 ing cries of the poor creature followed 
 me. I could no longer refrain from 
 running out of the house, and begging 
 them to desist. They paid no attention, 
 and closed the gate upon me. The rat- 
 tan struck his cheek, perhaps by acci- 
 dent, cut it open, and it bled terribly I 
 I screamed out " murder !" They were 
 startled, and stopped. The appealing 
 look of gratitude I received from the 
 poor maimed soldier was sweet reward. 
 Mary Pattison, whose sympathy for 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 the suffering never failed, took the poor 
 creature in; commiserating his pitiful 
 condition, she dressed his wounds, which 
 were frightfully deep, and like the good 
 Samaritan, poured in the oil of conso- 
 lation. 
 
 The principles of this peace-loving 
 Society are destined one day to cover 
 the earth as the waters cover the sea. 
 They are the same which our blessed 
 Redeemer came to reveal, and sealed 
 with his blood. They are Eternal 
 Truth. " Love to God, and good will 
 to man," He proclaimed ; and Love is 
 written on the white ensign of the 
 Prince of Peace I 
 
 jQAYS of agony and nights of tears 
 
 are my experience ; the agony of 
 
 suspense, the tears of widowhood ! In 
 
 imagination I have no longer a hus- 
 
 1777 
 
 Friday, 
 
^777 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 band I He is slain on the field of battle, 
 of which no tidings have come ; or the 
 victim of neglected wounds and dis- 
 ease, he is in the hands of the enemy. 
 If alive and at liberty, we surely should 
 long ago have heard from him. How 
 can I endure it? Oh, God, endue me 
 with patience, or I sink ! Thy pro- 
 tection is for those who trust in thee. 
 Do I ? Oh, Lord, help me, I pray 
 thee! 
 
 My father meekly reproves my impa- 
 tience, and so does Major Musgrave. 
 The long-suffering of the Quakers is 
 also a loud rebuke. The words of our 
 blessed Saviour seem to be held by them 
 in sacred remembrance : " I was sick, 
 and ye ministered unto me ; naked, and 
 ye clothed me ; hungry, and ye fed me ; 
 in prison, and ye visited me." 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1778 
 
 "V\/'HAT extremes there are in life ! 
 
 Robert Adams came last night 
 to ask my father to unite him to Rose 
 Wilson. It was strange to see two 
 happy faces amid violence, gloom, and 
 destruction. I was saddened when I 
 thought how soon the joy beaming there 
 would be clouded over in these stormy 
 times. But when my father, whose heart 
 is full of heavenly grace, pronounced his 
 benediction upon the young, hopeful 
 couple, mine responded a deep " Amen.'' 
 
 Marcia went into the other room, and 
 picked two white rosebuds off her bush, 
 and some geranium leaves, which she 
 tied up and gave to the sweet bride, 
 who in purity and grace could almost 
 vie with the flowers. 
 
 The ceremony was performed in Ma- 
 jor Musgrave's room, at his request. 
 He was much affected, and gave them 
 
 Jan. \otli. 
 
1778 
 
 American Revolution, 
 
 each at parting a gold piece, and the 
 blessing, he said, of a dying man. 
 
 After they departed. Major Musgrave 
 said to me, " Madam, will you do me the 
 favor to sit with me a while ? I would 
 unburden my mind while I have strength, 
 and make a few requests of you." 
 
 His faithful servant, Shultz, stood at 
 the back of his chair. He is as atten- 
 tive as a woman could be to the comfort 
 and wants of his master, and a love and 
 pity passing hers, if that could be, speaks 
 in his face. He talked in a low tone, 
 and walked quietly about the room. 
 
 The Major intimated to him that he 
 would be alone with me for a little time. 
 He disposed the pillows gently about 
 his master, and withdrew. 
 
 "As regards the war," said Major 
 Musgrave, after some conversation on 
 other topics, " I will say to you, 1 regret 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1778 
 
 having ever engaged in it, and had it 
 pleased God to have spared my life, it 
 was my determination to have retired 
 from the service." 
 
 I was surprised to hear this avowal, 
 for a more loyal subject of King George, 
 and dearer lover of England, cannot be 
 found. Major Musgrave proceeded to 
 say that it was a most wick-ed and un- 
 natural war. " The very idea," said he, 
 " of shooting down men who speak the 
 same language and own a common ori- 
 gin, is monstrous. My share in it hath 
 pierced me with sorrow. 
 
 " I shall never be able," he continued, 
 
 " to show the sincerity of my repentance ; 
 
 but, my dear madam, I speak the truth 
 
 before the Searcher of hearts. You will 
 
 believe this, my solemn asseveration. 
 
 Time is drawing to a close. It hath 
 
 pleased God to try me and sift me sorely 
 5 97 
 
1778 
 
 American Revolution, 
 
 in this life. I have grievously rebelled 
 against his will ; have murmured, have 
 mourned, have wept, have agonized. 
 My spirit hath beat so long and unre- 
 mittingly against the bars of the prison- 
 house, that at last it sinks weak and 
 powerless. And it is in this passive, 
 childlike state, that the first germs of 
 daybreak, the first faint whispers of 
 hope and peace, have visited me. And 
 yet the strength is wanting now, to 
 sing the song of praise and 'thanks- 
 giving." 
 
 I was awed to witness the devotional 
 state of mind to which divine grace had 
 brought Major Musgrave. 
 
 He continued. 
 
 " And now, my dearest lady, how can 
 I express my overflowing gratitude to 
 you ? I who have been so burdensome, 
 who have trespassed so long and so 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1778 
 
 much on the truest, the most patient 
 kindness?" 
 
 My heart leaped at this noble acknow- 
 ledgement of the little we had done. 
 I assured him that we should be rejoiced, 
 and amply repaid, to feel assured that 
 we had alleviated one pang, or beguiled 
 one hour of his suffering mind and body. 
 And when I remember, dear Edward, 
 the day the poor wounded man* was 
 brought here, how troubled and willing 
 to be rid of the charge I was, conscience 
 smote me, and I felt that I deserved no 
 thanks. The edifying contemplation of 
 such patient sorrow and unselfishness is 
 worth purchasing, at ten times the in- 
 convenience. 
 
 Major Musgrave continued. 
 
 " I have one request to make, which 
 I trust your honored father will not be 
 
 displeased with. It is, that my body 
 
 99 
 
1778 American Revolution. 
 
 may be laid in the Friends' burial-place. 
 The desire I have expressed, will prove 
 the influence which their principles have 
 obtained upon my mind; my admira- 
 tion of opinions so new to me is great. 
 The neighboring family, the Pattison 
 family, do so beautifully enforce and ex- 
 emplify them, the head of it especially. 
 I have, and shall ever venerate the 
 Church of England, the church of my 
 forefathers, of my mother. But the 
 peaceful tenets of this simple people 
 come home so to my state, shedding such 
 balm and repose over a wounded spirit, 
 that I trust the desire to find a last rest- 
 ing-place with them will be regarded." 
 
 He requested that the service for the 
 burial of the dead should be read at his 
 grave. 
 
 I assured Major Musgrave of my 
 
 sympathy and appreciation of his feel- 
 
 100 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1778 
 
 ings. Nor do I think this change to be 
 wondered at in one fresh from witness- 
 ing and experiencing, in his own per- 
 son, the sickening horrors and dreadful 
 evils of War. My own wretched sus- 
 pense and anxiety doubtless has its influ- 
 ence. I am trying to write down thought; 
 to beguile myself a little while of mise- 
 rable fears. 
 
 The Major placed in my hands a 
 manuscript. He said he had written it 
 for my perusal, wishing to acquaint me 
 with his past experience; but feeling 
 too acutely still to do so verbally. He 
 requested me to present his watch to 
 my father, gave a valuable ring contain- 
 ing a brilliant to me, and a memento to 
 each of the children. His consideration 
 and composure were so sweet and touch- 
 ing, that they affected me, and I could 
 
 not refrain from tears. 
 
 101 
 
1778 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 I hastily quitted the room, fearing to 
 excite my dear friend, and knowing that 
 he required rest. 
 
 Monday (^H, dear husband, it is a mournful 
 Morning, xKmg to contemplate I A man full 
 
 of gentle courtesy, of sensitive and 
 shrinking delicacy, receiving at the hands 
 of strangers, in the attitude of their 
 enemy, all of sympathy or earthly sup- 
 port that he can receive in his dying 
 moments I It grieves me inexpressibly. 
 In such circumstances all animosity of a 
 public nature is completely swallowed 
 up. It must be a heart of stone that is 
 not moved, melted to pity ! 
 
 Tuesday. 
 
 pTEAVEN be praised! We have 
 just heard of your safety, and of 
 the surrender, though it happened so long 
 
 sum 
 smce. 
 
 102 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1778 
 
 General Arnold has gained a bright 
 laurel in the affair ; he proved himself a 
 skilful and brave officer. The surren- 
 der excites great astonishment among 
 the British hereabouts. "Discretion 
 the better part of valor," thought Bur- 
 goyne, his troops worn out, and his situa- 
 tion becoming more and more critical. 
 
 Our letters, stained and yellow, looked 
 indeed as though they had come from 
 the wars. I suppose we receive only 
 about one in six. 
 
 The American cause seems to assume 
 a brighter aspect since this event. It 
 will doubtless Inspire confidence in its 
 ultimate success. The cause of free- 
 dom — Heaven grant it I 
 
 'T^HERE is an old proverb which 
 
 saith, " It is an ill wind which blows 
 
 nobody good." The Hessians and sol- 
 
 Monday. 
 
'778 
 
 AincriCi in Rcvolu/io/i. 
 
 dicrs billeted about here for six months 
 past, left to-day for the mainland cam- 
 paign, and the robbery, from which we 
 have for some time been exempt, will 
 now go on again. The villains feared 
 the soldiery; dreadful tax as it is to 
 keep them, it is nothing in comparison 
 to the other evil. 
 
 T/i/irsi/iiv. 
 
 T^HE robbers have been over already; 
 they landed last night at the har- 
 bor. In the dead of night they sur- 
 rounded the house of John Pearsall, 
 He is called rich, and there is no doubt 
 they counted on large booty. Their 
 first care is generally to prevent escapes, 
 lest the alarm should be given to the 
 neighbors. Whenever they have rea- 
 son to think that any one has escaped 
 to inform, they invariably scamper, fear- 
 
 mg surprise. 
 
 101 
 
 On finding his house so 
 
AincricLiii RcvoltiHoii. 
 
 77« 
 
 hcuiniccl in, Mr. Poarsall, who was tin; 
 only man in the lioiisc, nia(l<! a [i;r(:at 
 noise and bhistcring, calhn^' Tom, John, 
 and Harry to load and firc^ then ran to 
 the top of the house with the- gun, and 
 fired three times in (juiek suecession. 
 The robbers took the alarm, jumped 
 into the boat, and shoved off. Tlu'y 
 were fired upon, but 1 do not know 
 whedicr injured, but trust not, for they 
 surely arc; not fit to die. 
 
 Major Musgrave still Kngers. I found 
 him very weak to-day, but in no pain, 
 for which I desire to be thankful. He 
 appeareth very sad at times; was so to- 
 day. I tried to soothe and comfort him, 
 assuring him again that I would attend 
 to all his wishes; write a particular ac- 
 count to his mother, whom he fondly 
 loves, of his last words, of liis constant 
 consideration and thoughtfulness of 
 
1778 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 others, his patience, and of his hope of 
 pardon and peace, vouchsafed to him in 
 the holy calm and perfect rehance which 
 he is often favored to experience. 
 
 I besought him to cast all his care 
 upon Him who careth for us. We re- 
 mained for a few moments in sweet and 
 solemn silence, and when I rose to leave 
 the room, and remarked that I thought 
 he was in a peaceful frame of mind, the 
 poor man, or rather the rich man, bowed 
 his head in assent, and said, " Bless the 
 Lord, O my soul. All that is within 
 me, bless his holy name." 
 
 Saturday A TALE of horror has just come to 
 Evening. ^^j. ^2iX?>\ we have not heard the 
 
 details, nor do I wish to, they are so 
 horrible. It seems the Runners entered 
 the house of John Wilson, and threat- 
 ened, until the wife, to save the life of 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1778 
 
 her husband, revealed the hiding-place. 
 But it was too late ; he died the next 
 morning from a sabre-cut which he then 
 received, cleaving the skull and occa- 
 sioning so great loss of blood. The vil- 
 lains took a large sum of money, which 
 was in silver coin, in bags under the 
 hearthstone. Mr. Wilson was much 
 beloved in the neighborhood ; his death 
 produced the greatest excitement and 
 indignation. 
 
 I went over to Henry Pattison's this 
 evening; he, with his wife, had just re- 
 turned from the scene of the dreadful 
 catastrophe ; they never witnessed any 
 thing more distressing than Mrs. Wil- 
 son's state — wringing her hands continu- 
 ally with grief and horror, and at times 
 quite out of her mind. A great com- 
 pany is out in search of the robbers. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 Monday. 'T^WO out of three were taken last 
 evening, the other had gone off 
 with the money. It is said that the 
 serving girl connived with the thieves, 
 one of whom was her cousin. How 
 awful to contemplate ! I suppose Tory 
 influence will screen them; they were 
 sent to New York this morning strongly 
 guarded. The times are so disordered, 
 that we have to keep still, and bear 
 everything; complaint seemeth utterly 
 useless. 
 
 Tuesday. TUST received the joyful news of the 
 •^ Treaty of Alliance with France. My 
 heart beats tremulously with hope and 
 expectation, and yet I scarcely know 
 what to hope for. Can I, a woman, 
 wife, and mother, delight in warfare, or 
 desire the destruction of the children of 
 ? No! May God 
 
 a common origm 
 
 108 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1778 
 
 of his merciful goodness grant a speedy 
 termination of the war I This be my 
 prevailing, my fervent prayer. 
 
 It is thought the news of General 
 Burgoyne's surrender decided the nego- 
 tiations, by giving strong encourage- 
 ment. 
 
 My father is very quiet about the 
 news; he longs for peace, but cannot 
 turn against his dear native England. 
 He loves her with all her provocation, 
 or in spite of it. 
 
 Nor have I spoken of the treaty to 
 Major Musgrave, but would rather spare 
 his feelings ; he is too low to be dis- 
 turbed with human affairs. 
 
 A BAND of ruffians entered the house 
 
 of Mr. Miller at East Hampton, at 
 
 midnight, when the men folk were 
 
 absent. Mrs. Miller caught up her 
 
 Thursday. 
 
778 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 youngest child, an infant, and ran out 
 at the back door ; the next, a Httle boy 
 of four years, crept under a table to get 
 out of sight. But one of the creatures 
 
 spied him, and saying, " Here's a d d 
 
 little rebel," stuck his poignard into his 
 thigh, making a severe wound. Think 
 of the savage hardness of the heart of 
 the man, who would inflict injury upon 
 an innocent helpless child ! 
 
 Monday. A SCENE took place at neighbor 
 Pattison's the day before the red- 
 coats left, which I will note down for 
 your amusement ; for when the battles 
 are fought, the victory won, and we sit 
 down beneath our own vine and fig-tree, 
 to con together these pages, we will 
 weep and smile over them, and bless 
 Heaven that the trials and dangers are 
 past. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 >778 
 
 Well, Edith hath been sadly perse- 
 cuted of late by one of the officers, Cap- 
 tain Morton. And I am of opinion that 
 she would rather favor his suit, if he 
 were anything but a soldier; but love 
 will not run away with her judgment. 
 He is a high-spirited, noble-looking 
 young man, and desperately in love 
 with Edith, which surely is not to be 
 wondered at. Being constantly in her 
 train in their time of leisure, several 
 gentlemen have become enamored of 
 her. 
 
 On this occasion she was in the sitting- 
 room, spinning. I he^rd that Captain 
 Morton had said that he would waste 
 all day to see Edith spin. Indeed she 
 does look serenely beautiful, and stately, 
 as, with measured though light step, she 
 throws the great wheel, while her deli- 
 cate fingers hold the slender thread. 
 
.778 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 The wheel as it goes round makes a 
 monotonous, sad sound which I love to 
 hear. So, often when Bridget spins, I 
 open the door of the upper room, that 
 the sound thereof may reach me be- 
 low, where I sit sewing, or teaching 
 the children. It reminds me of the 
 fall winds among the withered lea\''es, 
 or the distant sound of rushing wa- 
 ters. 
 
 Well, I doubt not Edith was enjoy- 
 ing her own pure and peaceful thoughts, 
 when Captain Morton entered the room. 
 She was grieved to see him, thinking 
 and consoling herself that he had wholly 
 left these parts, in that she heard no tid- 
 ings of him for many days. 
 
 He began abruptly to speak, say- 
 ing, 
 
 "Edith, you have not seen me for 
 some time, in accordance with your 
 
 112 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1778 
 
 wish ; I have been making trial of my 
 power of self-control. Look at me ; 
 behold my success I " 
 
 She directed her attention to the young 
 man, and was struck with the change 
 which was manifest in his appearance. 
 From the handsome, fine-loqking Bri- 
 tisher that he was, he had become pale, 
 stooping, and hollow-eyed. 
 
 " Give me hope, or I die ; some word 
 of comfort ; a look or tone of love ; 
 some promise for my thoughts to feed 
 on, to sustain me in absence. To-mor- 
 row with this precious boon I go ; with- 
 out it, this is my resource." 
 
 Thus saying, the desperate young 
 man took his pistol from his side, and 
 pointed it at his breast. Edith was ter- 
 rified, but preserving that quietness of 
 manner which belongs to the people of 
 their sect, she left her wheel, and gently, 
 
 113 
 
1778 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 but firmly, took the pistol out of his 
 hand, and laid it aside. 
 
 The officer made no resistance; but 
 seemed as though beneath a spell. The 
 spell was the serene sweetness and com- 
 posure of her demeanor. 
 
 "The intemperance thou showest," 
 said Edith, " would intimidate me from 
 forming any closer intimacy with thee. 
 Besides, how dost thou think it would 
 seem to my parents and to Friends, that 
 I should contract an engagement with 
 one who holds it no wrong to lift up 
 sword against his fellow-man ? " 
 
 "Edith, do not set down against me 
 that in which I had no control. Am I 
 to be blamed for being bred to the 
 profession of arms, that I am become 
 the instrument of power to suppress 
 the rebel colonies *? The members of 
 your Society are generally supposed 
 
Afiierican Revolution. 
 
 1778 
 
 to be on the side of the Mother Coun- 
 try." 
 
 "It is true," said Edith, "they are 
 called 'Tories., but unjustly, as they espouse 
 neither cause. From their great princi- 
 ple, ' Resist not evil,' and submission to 
 the powers that be, they are opposed to 
 the rising of the people against the 
 Mother Country." 
 
 (Her father, I have a strong suspi- 
 cion, wishes, though very cautious, suc- 
 cess to the cause of freedom.) 
 
 Captain Morton said, "You surely, 
 Edith, wish to see the rebellion quelled, 
 and order and quiet restored ^ " 
 
 " I desire peace most fervently ; but 
 you, our brethren, have oppressed us 
 wrongfully, trodden upon our rights, 
 and domineered over us until patience 
 hath had her perfect work, and seemeth 
 to be no longer a virtue. And I will 
 
//" 
 
 American Resolution. 
 
 venture to predict that the side which 
 so wise, so temperate, so just a man as 
 George Washington leads, will be the 
 successful one. Heaven will smile 
 upon it." 
 
 The Captain was certainly surprised 
 at this earnest ebullition of feeling, and 
 disappointed too. But his love over- 
 bears all, and makes him take rebuke 
 from Edith most patiently. 
 
 He said he would reflect upon her 
 remarks; his hopes seemed to have 
 risen, why, she knew not; he took her 
 hand in his, and pressed it to his lips. 
 She promised to remember him with 
 kindness, and they parted. 
 
 She will doubtless hear from him 
 again, which I think she will not regret.'^ 
 
 ^' This young officer's love for Edith led him to 
 remain in this country after independence was 
 
Ainerican Revolution. 
 
 1778 
 
 'npHE British Ministry begin to speak 
 of American affairs with more mod- 
 eration. It is probably the effect of the 
 fate of their Northern Army, and the 
 Alliance ^ith France. Lord North laid 
 before Parliament bills for conciliation, 
 and commissioners are appointed to 
 bring terms of accommodation. The 
 day is passed for that. Two years ago 
 perhaps reconciliation might have been 
 effected; but we have proceeded too 
 far, we are too sanguine of success, to 
 admit now of listening to any terms, 
 but acknowledgment of our indepen- 
 dence. 
 
 May ^tlu 
 
 achieved, and, in the course of time, and through 
 her influence, he became a consistent member of the 
 Society of Friends, and her beloved, and loving hus- 
 band. 
 
1778 
 
 Ainerican Revolution. 
 
 Monday, 
 June i6th. 
 
 ]y[AJOR MUSGRAVE is no more. 
 His conflict is over, and he sleep- 
 eth in peace. 
 
 My father had been much with him 
 during the day. He was distressed at 
 times with difficulty in breathing. In 
 an interval of quiet he read to him (my 
 father) the beautiful Visitation of the 
 Sick. Those comfortable words seemed 
 like the dew to the parched herbage ; 
 his soul drank them in and was refreshed. 
 In an hour after he fell asleep, and we 
 thought the summons might be delayed 
 some time longer; but at midnight I 
 was called by Shultz. I went quickly ; 
 but when I leaned over the bedside to 
 catch the faintest whisper, the dying 
 man tried to speak but could not. He 
 pressed my hand, and raised his eyes to 
 heaven; this action, and the ineffably 
 grateful expression of his countenance 
 
 118 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1778 
 
 said, as plainly as words could, " God 
 Mess you ! " 
 
 Major Musgrave had become so near 
 in sympathy and interest to us all, 
 that it seems like the loss of a dear 
 friend. 
 
 It costs us some effort to obey his 
 injunction as regardeth his last resting- 
 place. It seems to my father a strange 
 request ; but it shall be held sacred. 
 
 'TpHE body was to-day laid in the 
 green burial-ground, near the meet- 
 ing-house of the Friends. It was fol- 
 lowed to the place by three companies 
 of soldiers, marching to the solemn 
 music and the muffled drum. 
 
 The sublime and impressive words of 
 the Burial Service were read by my dear 
 father. How they appeared to awe 
 every one I 
 
 119 
 
 Thursday 
 Evening. 
 
1778 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 '' Man that Is lorn of a osoman hath hit 
 a short time to live^ and is fiill of misery. 
 He Cometh up and is cut down like afffiver ; 
 he Jieeth as it were a shadow^ and never con- 
 timieth in one stayT 
 
 These words convey a mournful les- 
 son, but those which follow are full of 
 hope. 
 
 " 7 heard a voice from heaven saying unto 
 ;//<?, IVrite from henceforth^ Blessed are the 
 dead who die in the Lord {in faith and love 
 to hini)\ Even so, saith tlie Spirit ; for they 
 rest from their labors'' 
 
 The firing over the dead, awakening 
 thoughts of strife and battle, was in 
 painful contrast to these life-giving 
 words. The echoes of that peaceful 
 spot had never before been thus awak- 
 ened. Though many soldiers of the 
 cross lie there, this is the first, and likely 
 to be the only, instance on record, of a 
 
 120 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1778 
 
 soldier of earthly combat and carnal 
 weapons taking there his last rest. 
 
 There is no stone to mark the spot; 
 but by a young tree growing near / 
 know it, and my thoughts will often 
 visit it. 
 
 A LONG, sad day; no news from 
 my dear husband, and the house so 
 desolate I The engrossing occupation 
 gone, my hands hang idly, while anxiety 
 and care reign within. Even the chil- 
 dren's prattle sounds discordant to a 
 mother's ear, which is attuned only to 
 stories of violence and outrage, which 
 are so familiar they excite no surprise. 
 Yet fear, and dread, and horror, never 
 flee away. 
 
 I will strive, lest despair take entire 
 possession of my soul; and, "faint, 
 though pursuing," follow the rugged 
 
 Friday, 
 
1778 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 path my Saviour trod, that leads to 
 peace enduring, and a crown of joy. 
 " He is a strength to the needy in his 
 distress; a refuge from the storm; a 
 shadow from the heat." 
 
 Saturdaw 
 
 T HAVE been employed to-day in 
 putting up with great care everything 
 belonging to Major Musgrave, that they 
 may be sent, when occasion offers, to 
 his friends in England. In a little box 
 of spice-wood (of which he gave me 
 the key) I found the packet of letters 
 and papers left for my perusal, and put 
 them away for some future time. Re- 
 collection is too fresh now. 
 
 The consciousness that my feeble 
 efforts were made to assuage his grief 
 (and it is my conviction that Major 
 Alusgrave's sorrows were deeper than 
 met the eye), to smooth his passage to 
 
American Rccolution. 
 
 1778 
 
 the tomb, and to comfort his last hours 
 with sympathy and care, is full of in- 
 ward peace and satisfaction. 
 
 T RECEIVED, dearest Edward, to- 
 day, your charming letter of the 15th 
 August. 
 
 The arrival of the French fleet, twelve 
 ships of the line and four frigates, under 
 command of Count d'Estaigne, is joyful 
 news. 
 
 The British troops remain inactive in 
 New York since the battle of Mon- 
 mouth. The American loss that day 
 was small; but the great heat occa- 
 sioned many deaths, and much grievous 
 suffering in both armies. 
 
 I look forward to the day with trem- 
 bling eagerness when all shall be over, 
 and we shall be in the enjoyment of the 
 peace earned so dearly ; for though you^ 
 
 Tuesday. 
 
1778 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 my dear Edward, never stopped to 
 count the cost, when you enlisted life, 
 limb, and fortune in the cause, 7 cannot 
 help thinking sometimes, in my de- 
 sponding moments, that the risk of life 
 and limb, neglect of affairs, loss of pro- 
 perty, of health, of ease, of comfort, is 
 the tremendous price of liberty. You 
 say " she is worth ten times as many 
 sacrifices, if could be, than these even." 
 She may be to those surviving to enjoy 
 and reap her laurels, but patriotism in 
 my breast, just now, is too faint a 
 spark to glory in perspective, in a 
 hero's memory, though embalmed in 
 tears I 
 
 It seemeth too dear at such a price. 
 Bear with me, my husband ; you know 
 I am sorely tried. I will strive for more 
 patience and submission, and commit 
 thy precious life to the care of Him, 
 
 124 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 .778 
 
 without whom not a sparrow falleth to 
 the ground. 
 
 Amid all the trouble and gloom sur- 
 rounding, a ludicrous incident will pro- 
 voke a smile. 
 
 T AST night the Runners appeared 
 round a house near West-Town, and 
 were about forcing a door in front when 
 they were discovered. John Rawlins, 
 the owner, sent a negro up stairs to fire 
 when the word was given. It was a 
 bright moonlight night, and he saw the 
 creatures step up to the door from a 
 window near it with -^ pane of glass out. 
 In alarm, he looked out for something 
 wherewith to defend himself; seeing the 
 broom, he took it for want of something 
 better, and ran it through the broken 
 window. It touched the shoulder, and 
 grazed the cheek of one of the villains. 
 
 Wednesday. [ 
 
1778 
 
 American Revolution, 
 
 who, supposing it to be a loaded gun, 
 cried out piteously, " Oh, heavens, don't 
 kill me!" as though he had never an 
 evil intention towards any one. 
 
 The signal was now given, and the 
 man above fired; they soon scattered, 
 leaving Jown Rawlins aiming his broom- 
 stick through the broken window-pane I 
 
 Thursday. TV/TY precious father is obliged to go 
 to New York; it is to him a 
 great undertaking. He dreads impedi- 
 ments of every kind, having arrived at 
 the age so feelingly described in holy 
 writ, " When the grasshopper shall be a 
 burden, and desire shall fail, and fears 
 shall be in the way." 
 
 Friday. 'T^HEY left this morning (papa and 
 
 Charles) in the chariot. Received 
 
 a condoling and scolding letter from 
 
 Aunt Barbara. She dwells feelingly on 
 
 126 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1778 
 
 you, in that you have joined the rebels, 
 whose cause, she appears to think, is 
 that of anarchy, confusion, and insubor- 
 dination. "She dreads to look at the 
 end to which it will bring us ; confisca- 
 tion, contumely, and perhaps the forfei- 
 ture of life." 
 
 Dear, simple soul ! The possibility 
 of the struggle being successful, and the 
 yoke shaken off, never seems to have 
 entered her imagination. I suppose she 
 pities mir delusion, while we commise- 
 rate liers ! Heaven only knows which 
 the most justly. 
 
 JJOUSE-BREAKING, horse-stealing, 
 and depredation are so common, 
 that I am weary of noting them down, 
 and have pretty much ceased to do so. 
 But as an incident occurred last night 
 which illustrates and proves the power 
 
 Saturday. 
 
1778 
 
 Ajiierkan Revolution. 
 
 of the Law of Love, it must not pass 
 unrecorded. 
 
 The Runners came over from the 
 main shore to attack the house of Ste- 
 phen Willetts, a Quaker; he stands 
 high in the Society, is a preacher, and 
 devout man. The family had retired ; 
 he first took the alarm, and knew in a 
 moment that his time of trial had come. 
 He made (he says) a mental ejaculation 
 of prayer to God for grace, to do and 
 say the thing that was right. 
 
 Thus led, who can doubt that his 
 petition was granted ? The demon of 
 Fear was cast out by the angel of Love. 
 He threw open wide the door and said, 
 " Walk in friends, and warm yourselves, 
 it is chilly this evening." He threw 
 wood on the fire, and kept talking so 
 kindly, that the men, though ever so 
 evilly disposed, had not time to say a 
 
 1-28 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 word. He then went and called at the 
 foot of the stairs for his servant ; " Cae- 
 sar, come 'down; get ready some supper 
 for these friends. They must be very 
 cold, and need refreshment." Minced 
 pies, meat and bread, were put upon the 
 table, and cider ordered to be drawn. 
 
 The robbers looked at each other in 
 silent amazement; but the old man's 
 kindness was so pressing, and seemed 
 so hearty, it was out of their power to 
 refuse; so they sat down and partook 
 of his good cheer. After they had eaten, 
 Mr. Willetts told them when they wished 
 their beds were ready. They were now 
 completely overcome ; their hard hearts 
 melted, making them as unable to begin 
 the work of plunder as though bound 
 in chains of iron ! One of them spoke, 
 and said that they had some distance to' 
 go on the morrow, and as they were up, 
 
 ^ 129 
 
 1778 
 
1778 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 they might as well walk a few miles 
 farther. They then thanked the Friend 
 for his kindness, and bade him good 
 night. As they walked out they could 
 but ill conceal the knives and pistols 
 they bore about them. 
 
 Tuesday. pAPA and Charles safely returned; 
 the latter much excited by all he 
 saw, and the former cheerful and well, 
 having met with no difficulties. I trust 
 that he may be spared to see many good 
 days, or ever the silver cord be loosed, 
 or the golden bowl broken. 
 
 Charles gave me a vivid description 
 of the plains around Jamaica, which 
 were filled with white tents, and pre- 
 sented a pretty and lively aspect. In 
 the village of Bruyklin, he says there 
 are built many small one-story houses 
 for the soldiers. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1778 
 
 He saw a sight too in New York, 
 which, with your republican notions, 
 dearest Edward, would excite little emo- 
 tion; but the very mention of which 
 made the blood tingle in my veins. 
 They saw a Prince of the blood royal ! 
 Prince William Henry .^^' 
 
 He is about seventeen years old, very 
 stout (my father thinks) for that age. 
 The royal family are said to be inclined 
 that way. King George is portly. The 
 young Prince wears the British army 
 uniform ; he has a pleasant countenance, 
 but very crooked, knock-kneed legs, of 
 which you must knov/ papa is a keen 
 observer, a handsome limb being in his 
 eyes of no small importance in view of 
 personal appearance. 
 
 They saw the Prince passing down 
 
 
 * Afterwards King William IV. of England. 
 
 131 
 
1779 
 
 American Revolution, 
 
 Queen Street. My father took off his 
 hat as he walked near, and bade Charles 
 do the same. This may be a great 
 weakness ; but the seed sown in youth 
 by the honored dead, and nourished and 
 grown with the growth, cannot be rooted 
 out in a day. 
 
 The French fleet has sailed for the 
 West Indies without having accom- 
 plished anything of importance, being 
 unsuccessful in all its enterprises. A 
 great disappointment. Well, if no other 
 good effect follows, its presence inspired 
 confidence in the Continental army, 
 and importance in the eyes of the 
 enemy. 
 
 'T^HERE is great distress from the 
 depreciation of our bills of credit ; 
 it dispirits and enfeebles exertion. Gene- 
 ral Washington sorely perplexed amid 
 
 132 
 
uimerkan Revolution. 
 
 '%o 
 
 his murmuring men. Heaven grant 
 speedy relief ! '" * ^* '"- '^ * 
 (The Journal is defective here, and 
 several letters are wanting.) 
 
 gATTLE of Camden. i6th August. 
 Hard fought. The Continentals 
 defeated. Baron de Kalb, a Prussian 
 gentleman, slain. The second officer in 
 command. 
 
 The greater part of our forces, mili- 
 tia, who fled at the first fire, and could 
 not be rallied, which I cannot find in 
 my woman's heart to condemn, dear as 
 freedom is to its every pulse. I can so 
 vividly fancy myself standing up for the 
 first time before the enemy's murderous 
 batteries, and the courage oozing out at 
 my finger ends. 
 
 Sept. loth. 
 
 133 
 
1780 
 
 American Revolutioti. 
 
 Tuesday, "VTEWS to-day of the arrival of an- 
 other French fleet. Seven ships 
 of the Hne ; 6,000 land troops, com- 
 manded by Count de Rochambeau, at 
 Rhode Island. 
 
 Will give new life to Congress and 
 the army. 
 
 October ^th. 
 
 A LETTER from my husband; still 
 inactive, the South having now be- 
 come the principal seat of action, which 
 I do not regret. The French fleet re- 
 turned to France I Thus has perished 
 our hope of naval assistance. It seems 
 unaccountable. The land forces re- 
 
 mam. 
 
 Thursday. 
 
 A DEEPLY interesting document 
 from Edward, in which is recorded 
 a most detestable and flagrant instance 
 of treachery. 
 
 134 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1780 
 
 The Lord be praised, we have been 
 deUvered from the consequences ! 
 
 A plot of General Benedict Arnold 
 for giving into the hands of the enemy 
 the fortress of West Point I Who can 
 imagine what might have been the re- 
 sult had not the despicable design been 
 providentially frustrated ? 
 
 Arnold has acted with bravery in 
 several actions. It is said the cause of 
 his dreadful defection is that the laurels 
 which lie won at Saratoga were awarded 
 to General Gates by Congress, and but 
 little notice taken of his valor on that 
 occasion. Is this any excuse for such 
 Satanic revenge? A bad man, and 
 never a true lover of his country. 
 
 A patriot would drain his heart's blood 
 for her, even though she should prove 
 ungrateful. 
 
 135 
 
lySo 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 Saturday, QENERAL GREENE appointed to 
 the command of the Southern divi- 
 sion. 
 
 Monday. ^HIS neighborhood is still infested 
 with the odious Hessians. They 
 are so filthy and lazy, lounging about 
 all day long, smoking and sleeping. 
 The patience of the good Friends is 
 inexhaustible. After filling up their 
 parlors, kitchens, and bed-rooms, the 
 whole winter with chests, liquor-casks, 
 hammocks, bird-cages, guns, boots, and 
 powder-flasks, they were last week or- 
 dered to Jamaica. Oh the rejoicing I 
 It veould flash out of the eye, though 
 their discreet tongues spake it not. 
 
 The moment the Hessians took their 
 leave Friend Pattison caused the broken 
 places in the wall to be repaired, for the 
 Colonel's lady had the room ornamented 
 
 136 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1780 
 
 all around with stuffed parrots, perched 
 on sticks driven in the wall. The quar- 
 terly meeting of the Society is near at 
 hand. They expect friends and rela- 
 tions to stop with them, and make pre- 
 parations for their reception. 
 
 Well, all were putting their houses in 
 order, when the appalling news spread like 
 wildfire — " T7zi? Hessians are coining hack!" 
 
 Running to the window, I descried 
 them in the distance like a cloud of 
 locusts, dusky and dim ; but the fife 
 and drum, assailing our ears, if we 
 needed additional evidence, convinced 
 us that it was too true. They had in- 
 deed been ordered back. How many 
 tears of vexation I shed I 
 
 ]y[AJOR ANDRE ! How my heart 
 
 bleeds for him I 'Tis true he was 
 
 a spy, and he dies the death of a spy; 
 
 137 
 
 Monday. 
 
lySo American Revolution. 
 
 but his many noble traits and accom- 
 plishments, ardent temperament, intrepi- 
 dity and gentleness, win admiration, and 
 excite compassion and regret. I cannot 
 think of his bitter fate. General Wash- 
 ington, it is thought, would have granted 
 his last affecting request (to die by the 
 musket), but others sternly just, refused 
 the boon, and he died ignominiously. 
 
 My father knew his family, and re- 
 members hi/n. A noble, handsome-look- 
 ing man ; tall, and of a remarkably well- 
 proportioned person. 
 
 He is spoken of by the officers as the 
 soul of honor. It seems strange that a 
 person of his character could engage in 
 such an undertaking. The noble senti- 
 ment of Amor Patriae becomes soiled 
 when made the plea for clandestine ac- 
 tions, which will not bear the scrutiny 
 of justice, the light of day. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1780 
 
 And yet I grieve at his sad end. Is it 
 on account of his fascinating quahties, the 
 blandishment which rank, beauty, and 
 chivalrous bearing cast around him? 
 Or is it simply as a man that I pity and 
 deplore him'? 
 
 I trust he would have my sympathy, 
 were he the humblest private in the 
 British army. 
 
 Major Andre had an unfortunate at- 
 tachment, and died with the miniature 
 of the young lady close to his heart. 
 An ignominious death — how shocking 
 
 to his feel 
 
 mgs 
 
 T HAVE not courage yet to open Ma- 
 jor Musgrave's manuscript, having a 
 presentiment that it will be of a very sad 
 nature. 
 
 Tuesday. 
 
 TTNTO how many evanescent things 
 is human life likened in Holy Writ ! 
 
 139 
 
 Thursday. 
 
i78o 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 Tuesda 
 
 jy. 
 
 "What is your life>? It is even a 
 vapor that appeareth for a little time 
 and then vanisheth away." 
 
 " As the night-watch that is past. As 
 a dream of the night." 
 
 " As for man, his days are as grass : 
 as a flower of the field so he flourisheth. 
 For the wind passeth over it, and it is 
 gone ; and the place thereof shall know 
 it no more." 
 
 T^HE neighborhood has been more 
 quiet for a week past, and the Hes- 
 sians have really left, bag and baggage, 
 for which Heaven be praised! They 
 are like the locusts of Egypt, desolating 
 the land, and eating up every green 
 thing. 
 
 JVednesday. " fTE will give the oil of joy for mourn- 
 ing, and the garment of praise 
 
Ameriaan Revolution. 
 
 1780 
 
 for the spirit of heaviness." These com- 
 forting words have been in my thoughts 
 this day, making me peaceful. I have 
 hstened to the still small voice within 
 me. Oh that I could be enabled to do 
 this oftener ! How much care and tur- 
 moil of spirit would It lighten I 
 
 "^rO news of importance. A depu- 
 tation of Friends was sent last 
 month to a place called Nine Partners, 
 about twenty miles east of the Hudson 
 River. Henry Pattlson was one of the 
 number; he gives a very interesting 
 account of their progress. They crossed 
 the water to Mamaroneck, and pro- 
 ceeded to White Plains. They had 
 some questioning to undergo from the 
 enemy, as they were obliged to pass the 
 Continental lines; and coming from 
 Long Island, where the British power Is 
 
 Thursday, 
 
178o 
 
 American Reyokition. 
 
 supreme, they had fears of being stopped; 
 still, beheving themselves to be in the 
 way of their religious duty, they per- 
 severed. They passed near General 
 Washington's head-quarters. On ap- 
 proaching, they were stopped, examined 
 severely, and handed over to the Com- 
 mittee of Safety, which declared they 
 could not allow them to proceed con- 
 sistently with the orders they had re- 
 ceived. 
 
 They then desired that General Wash- 
 ington might be informed of their deten- 
 tion, and requested that he would give 
 them an interview. It was granted; 
 they were received with marked defer- 
 ence and respect. It is the custom of 
 this peculiar sect to speak with modera- 
 tion, never in strong terms, either in 
 condemnation or praise, complimentary 
 language being specially disapproved 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1780 
 
 of. But I can gather from their quaint 
 though guarded phrase, that they were 
 much struck with the elegance and dig- 
 nity of General Washington's person 
 and address. 
 
 Friend Pattison admitted that he was 
 a Hkely man, and conducted with great 
 propriety. As much praise as they 
 could be expected to bestow upon " a 
 fighting character." 
 
 After politely requesting them to be 
 seated, the General made close inquiry 
 relating to the British force on the 
 island. 
 
 His manner being calculated to in- 
 spire confidence, they very candidly told 
 all they knew, and acquainted him with 
 some facts before unknown to him. 
 
 General Washington inquired where 
 they passed the night, and said he was 
 entirely convinced, from his knowledge 
 
i78o 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 of their Society, and of the person with 
 whom they tarried, that their object was, 
 as they represented, entirely rehgious. 
 He apologized for their detention, say- 
 ing, it seemed unavoidable, and if they 
 returned the same way, he should be 
 happy to hear of their success in seeing 
 their friends. 
 
 When the humble company entered 
 the General's presence, an aide stepped 
 up, and hinted to them the propriety of 
 removing their hats. 
 
 Henry Pattison said, "In presence 
 of God in prayer alone, do we bow the 
 uncovered head. Before kings, or the 
 mightiest of earth's potentates, this re- 
 spect is not shown. In Ris sight there 
 is no respect of persons; in ours, all 
 men are brethren." 
 
 General Washington said he was well 
 acquainted with their customs, and some 
 
 144 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1780 
 
 of his best friends were of their body. 
 He advised them to go forward, and 
 always plainly tell the truth. 
 
 On their return, passing again near 
 the camp, they availed themselves of 
 General Washington's invitation. He 
 appeared deeply interested in their rela- 
 tion of what they had seen and heard, 
 and dismissed them with kind assurances 
 of regard, requesting them to represent 
 to the enemy whatever they chose, as 
 he knew they would tell only the truth, 
 in which he was willing to trust. 
 
 pUBLIC affairs engage but little atten- 
 tion hereabouts ; each family is ab- 
 sorbed in its own toils and privations. 
 
 Benedict Arnold has received, as a 
 reward of treachery, the appointment of 
 Brigadier-General in the British army, 
 and, it is said, a large amount of money 
 
 7 145 
 
 Friday. 
 
i78o 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 besides. Small compensation for the 
 forfeiture of honor, principle, reputation, 
 all that man holds dear ! A bold, am- 
 bitious, bad man, pitiless and selfish, he 
 betrayed his country from ..the unworthy 
 motive of revenge. True, he served 
 her nobly in the expedition to Quebec, 
 and proved himself on other occasions 
 a fearless officer, and Congress awarded 
 too little praise, and acted perhaps un- 
 wisely in promoting younger men before 
 him ; but personal aggrandizement, and 
 not patriotism, actuated him ; while the 
 love of freedom, devotion to right and 
 justice, is the principle of action of 
 Washington, Greene, and Montgomery, 
 whose memory many a tear will em- 
 balm, and whose heroic bravery, beauty, 
 graceful attractiveness, and melancholy 
 fate, will form the theme of praise and 
 regret to beings yet unborn. 
 
.American Revolution, 
 
 1780 
 
 TN reading my Bible to-day I came 
 to that beautiful passage : " And 
 nation shall not lift: up sword against 
 nation, nor learn war any more. The 
 sword shall be turned into the plough- 
 share, and the spear into the pruning- 
 hook." It appears to indicate that the 
 peaceful pursuits of agriculture will pre- 
 vail over the earth, and war and devas- 
 tation cease. May God hasten the day I 
 Yet the resistance of the Colonies 
 against oppression is righteous and just. 
 This land is destined to be the Home 
 of the Free. It seems as though God, 
 having prepared and decreed it for the 
 refuge of the persecuted and the wretched 
 of the earth, had opened the eyes of the 
 hardy Spaniards, whose faith was cer- 
 tainty, and whose adventurous spirit 
 never flagged, revealing the existence 
 of a broad continent over the wide wa- 
 
 Tuesday. 
 
1780 
 
 American Revolution, 
 
 ters, which appeared to others a wild 
 chimera. And then the indomitable 
 perseverance of the early settlers, which 
 no difficulties could daunt, no hardship 
 subdue. The piety and self-denial of 
 the Puritans ; the enthusiastic faith and 
 devotion of the Covenanters, the Hu- 
 guenots, in deep baptism of sorrow ; all 
 here came, the chosen of God, to a place 
 prepared for them in wisdom and mercy 
 — the Canaan to the Israelites! Over 
 these broad lands and fertile fields a 
 race is to spread, and become like the 
 leaves of the forest, or the sands of the 
 sea, for numbers. Here liberty, peace, 
 and plenty shall prevail beneath the 
 benignant smile of the Lord. But never 
 may we or our children's children, like 
 the Israelites, wax wanton, and turn 
 against the God of all our mercies I 
 The declension of the Covenant peo- 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1780 
 
 pie is affectingly portrayed in the eighth 
 chapter of Deuteronomy, and fearful 
 denunciation is pronounced against those 
 in such a case. 
 
 "For the Lord thy God bringeth 
 thee into a good land, a land of brooks 
 of water, of fountains, and depths that 
 spring out of valleys and hills; a land 
 of wheat, and barley, and vines, and fig- 
 trees, and pomegranates ; a land of olive 
 oil, of milk and honey; a land wherein 
 thou shalt eat bread without scarceness. 
 Thou shalt not lack anything in it. A 
 land whose stones are iron, and out of 
 whose hills thou mayest dig brass. And 
 thou say in thine heart, My power, and 
 the might of mine hand, hath gotten 
 me this wealth. But thou shalt remem- 
 ber the Lord thy God, for it is He that 
 giveth thee power to get wealth." 
 
lySo 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 Monday. 
 
 PLUNDER, rapine, and violence still 
 go on, and " the end doth not ap- 
 pear." With Job I feel that I can 
 almost say, " My soul is weary of my 
 life." This long separation is hard to 
 be borne. Lord save me from selfish 
 repinings, enable me to renounce my 
 own wishes and desires for the common 
 weal ; and in thy good time restore my 
 husband to us, and peace and freedom to 
 this tempest-tossed and afflicted people. 
 
 Wednesday. T AST night Mr. Burr, a storekeeper, 
 was asleep in the store (as was his 
 custom, for the purpose of guarding it), 
 when he was aroused by a noise at the 
 window, which was so heavily barred 
 that though they bored the shutter, and 
 tugged at it a great while, they could 
 not open it. Near the top of the shut- 
 ter there is unfortunately a small open- 
 
 150 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1780 
 
 ing to admit the light. Through this 
 one of the villains put his gun and fired, 
 killing Mr. Burr. The ball passed 
 through his body, as he was sitting up 
 in bed. The wretches then fled, and 
 their victim lived but a few moments, 
 just long enough to tell the particulars. 
 When will deliverance come ? 
 
 T^HERE is a man by the name of 
 Hugh Jarvis,^ a Tory, from the 
 province of New Jersey, who is ex- 
 tremely persecuting and hard on the 
 people, especially the unresisting Quak- 
 
 Saturday, 
 
 * This man, after the war, manifested the deep- 
 est and most heart-felt contrition, on account of his 
 brutal conduct towards the Friends. He became a 
 member of their Society ; visited them, and wished 
 to make any reparation in his power for the injuries 
 inflicted ; and even offered his body to the smiter, 
 humbling himself, and mourning his iniquities. 
 
 151 
 
1780 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 ers. It seems as though when once a 
 man sides with the enemy, he goes 
 to greater lengths to show his zeal ; or 
 by bullying and threatening the un- 
 offending, to hide his own shame. 
 
 He will not listen to expostulation or 
 reason, and seems to be devoid of mercy. 
 He will often take the last morsel of 
 hay or provender out of a barn, when 
 the owner pleads for only a little, for his 
 famishing cattle, for the night. 
 
 He yesterday ordered John Perkins 
 to go out with his boys, and take their 
 scythes and cut the grass off some mea- 
 dow-land of their own, which they 
 counted on as winter feed for their crea- 
 tures ; by threatening and fearful oaths 
 he compelled compliance. But it was 
 a hard day's work. 
 
 152 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1780 
 
 A DREADFUL deed was committed 
 last night. Four persons came over 
 from the mainland and attacked the 
 house of Richard Albertson. They sur- 
 rounded it, and one of them knocked 
 loudly at the door. Knowing it to be 
 useless to resist, he got up and opened 
 it; they entered, and with violent ges- 
 tures told him to hand them all his 
 money. He is considered a wealthy 
 farmer, and they doubtless knew it. He 
 said he had very little in the house, and 
 they would be welcome if they would 
 be satisfied. They thereupon swore 
 furiously, saying they did not believe 
 it, and commenced searching, rummag- 
 ing drawers, opening closets, and even 
 lifting up the hearthstones, which they 
 have discovered is a favorite hiding- 
 place. They found nothing of value. 
 Incensed highly, they commenced swear- 
 
 Monday. 
 
 7^- 
 
 153 
 
lySo American Resolution, 
 
 ing and threatening the women, who 
 were excessively terrified ; they ordered 
 them to uncord the bedstead, they them- 
 selves pulling off the bed-clothes. Afraid 
 to disobey, their trembling fingers re- 
 fused the task. (Mr. Albertson had 
 been put out of the room, so as to play 
 upon the fears of the females.) The 
 ruffians said they wanted the rope to 
 hang him with. They could extort no 
 more by threatening. 
 
 They now dragged in the master of 
 the house, and proceeded to put the 
 rope around his neck and tie his hands 
 behind him. 
 
 Then the wife and children fell upon 
 their knees, and begged the rufRans to 
 spare their father. 
 
 Mr. Albertson calmly told them that 
 it was useless to kill him ; tliat would 
 not bring money. The wife then offered 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1780 
 
 the wretches all her silver spoons, and 
 twenty dollars in money besides, which 
 they rudely clutched, but demanded 
 more, as violently as before. They 
 now began to abuse his only son, Wil- 
 liam, a boy of about fourteen years, 
 thinking, doubtless, that by exciting the 
 fears and sympathy of the father, the 
 booty would be produced. 
 
 The poor man, sorely tried, told the 
 ruffians that money was nothing to him 
 in comparison ; if he had it, he would 
 give it them. What Httle he did 
 possess was let out to his neighbors. 
 Whereupon they began to strike at him 
 with their sabres, knocking him down, 
 and then standing him up, and cutting 
 him dreadfully, he begging for life ; his 
 wife, having fainted away, was lying on 
 the floor. 
 
 This went on until day began to 
 
 155 
 
1780 
 
 American Revolution, 
 
 dawn, when they left, cursing and threat- 
 ening to burn his house over his head. 
 The cord was unloosened from the neck 
 of Mr. Albertson, and the deep gashes 
 dressed. He received severe injury, 
 and will bear the scars thereof through 
 life, for I am thankful to say his life is 
 not despaired of Great indignation 
 prevails, and a plan has been devised 
 by the people to protect themselves from 
 such great evil in future. A company 
 of young men is to be associated, to 
 ride about on horseback all night; twelve 
 go out at once, and are relieved at a 
 certain hour by others. They are wtII 
 armed, and will give the alarm where 
 they discover signs of an intended at- 
 tack. Richard Thompson is their leader, 
 a bold, intrepid man. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 'T^HIS text dwells on my mind to-day : 
 " The Lord is king, be the people 
 never so impatient. He sitteth between 
 the cherubim, be the earth never so un- 
 quiet." It has comforted me much — 
 the faith that God is over all, blessed for 
 ever! 
 
 Tuesday. 
 
 'npHERE was another robbery perpe- 
 trated about twenty miles from this 
 place, under most singular circumstances, 
 last week. There were three men, and 
 they appeared to be entirely superior to 
 the Runners, or Cow-boys, who infest the 
 country, in station, though not in hu- 
 manity. They all wore black masks, 
 and were armed with cutlasses, as well 
 as silver-mounted pistols. It was the 
 house of Joseph Willetts, an aged man. 
 They very politely told him not to be 
 at all alarmed, as they only wanted his 
 
 Thursday. 
 
1780 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 
 money, and would not injure him, or 
 any of his family. The old man com- 
 plied with their request, but could not 
 satisfy their rapacity. He offered them 
 now, though most reluctantly, his old 
 silver timepiece (a heavy old-fashioned 
 watch, which he had worn at his side 
 fifty years), and it seemed like parting 
 with a friend. 
 
 The creatures now threw off the mask 
 of politeness, though not those they co- 
 hered their faces with, and uttered the 
 most fearful oaths, and threats of death 
 and cruelty. It is generally believed 
 they were British soldiers. One of them, 
 horrible to relate, let fall his cutlass on 
 the head of the aged man, aiming doubt- 
 less to kill him ; but as he stooped to 
 avoid the blow, it struck his cheek, 
 making a dreadful wound. He fell; 
 his daughter ran to him, and leaning 
 
 158 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1780 
 
 over her venerable parent in agony of 
 spirit, cried, " Oh God, they have killed 
 him I" 
 
 The villains then began to cut up the 
 chairs, to destroy the furniture, and break 
 the looking-glass. After which they re- 
 lieved the wounded man and his out- 
 raged family of their presence. 
 
 The whole country round is roused, 
 and determined to ferret out the of- 
 fenders. 
 
 The end is with Him " who neither 
 slumbers, nor sleeps," in whom is "nei- 
 ther variableness, nor shadow of turning." 
 
 l^AITH in an overruling Providence 
 was nobly exemplified in a case 
 which occurred in one of the Jerseys. 
 A Friend was pinioned in his own barn. 
 He stood with his back to the large door, 
 with a drawn sword close to his breast. 
 
 Saturday. 
 
1780 
 
 American Resolution, 
 
 which an enraged Britisher, with threat 
 of instant death, in case of denial or re- 
 fusal of compliance with some outra- 
 geous demand, held in his hand. Calm 
 and still, the aged Friend stood. It 
 seemed to exasperate his persecutor be- 
 yond all bounds. With a horrible objur- 
 gation he flourished his sabre, and bring- 
 ing it down within a hair's breadth of 
 the noble man's throat, paused: fiery 
 wrath gleamed in his eye. It was a 
 moment of terror to the bystanders; 
 they besought the Friend to give in. 
 
 The stillness was profound. The 
 aged man looked in his enemy's eye, 
 and spoke : " Thou canst do no more 
 than thou art permitted to do." The 
 voice struck solemnly on the ear. 
 
 For an instant more the sword was 
 uplifted ; then it fell as though the arm 
 had been palsied. The violent man was 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 cowed, awe-struck. He strode out of 
 the barn, mounted his horse, and rode 
 away furiously. 
 
 npHERE is a rumor of a great battle 
 fought at the South, and the Con- 
 tinentals victorious. I cannot vouch for 
 the truth of it. My first thought and 
 prayer is my husband's safety ; the next 
 for our country. 
 
 By skilful military manoeuvres, Gene- 
 ral Washington has kept Sir Henry 
 Clinton in a state of continual alarm and 
 uncertainty for some time. It was gene- 
 rally understood that New York was the 
 point of attack. But the General sud- 
 denly broke up the camp at White 
 Plains, and crossed the Hudson river. 
 
 J^EPORT of the dreadful deed I re- 
 corded (of the masked men) was 
 
 1780 
 
 Thursday. 
 
 Fridav. 
 
i78o 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 made to the captain of a company quar- 
 tered at Jericho. By inquiry, three 
 men were found to have been absent 
 on the night of the attack. The officer 
 professed himself desirous of having 
 them severely punished, if they could 
 be identified. Whereupon the wounded 
 man, Mr. Willetts, being yet too ill, 
 his sister, an aged spinster, with others 
 of the household, went to head-quarters. 
 The men were assembled, and she recog- 
 nised two, by their voices, and their 
 size, and general appearance, as the of- 
 fenders. They were made to confess and 
 designate the third, who had deserted. 
 
 Though he whom they^sorely injured, 
 humanely, and in a forgiving spirit, 
 pleaded for them, and begged that they 
 might not be severely dealt with, they 
 were punished severely, by what they 
 call picketing. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1780 
 
 'T^HE house of Fry Willis, of Jericho, 
 was entered by way of the kitchen, 
 where a young man and woman were 
 sitting over the fire. The robbers fired 
 off a gun to obtain a light. They then 
 set a guard over each bed, and searched 
 for money and valuables. The man- 
 servant, "a warrior," attempted to run 
 for his sword, but was held back. They 
 ransacked cabinets, desks, etc., and took 
 money to a considerable amount, the 
 serving-man's excepted, which was con- 
 cealed under a drawer. 
 
 TBe venerable and respected Thomas 
 Willis, then a boy sleeping in his trun- 
 dle-bed, narrates these incidents of the 
 war of the Revolution, elucidating, in 
 the trials and afflictions of his people 
 (the Friends), and their patient submis- 
 sion, that divine charity which suffereth 
 long and is kind. 
 
 163 
 
1780 
 
 American Revolution, 
 
 John Searing had been observed by 
 the enemy carting pork ; counting upon 
 his having received the money for it, 
 the creatures went to his house and de- 
 manded it. On refusing it, his Hfe was 
 threatened. He persisted, was seized 
 and his head placed upon a block, and 
 a man stood over him with an axe, 
 bringing it down every moment as if 
 to sever his head from his body. His 
 wife then placed all the money they 
 had, about forty pounds, at their feet, 
 and rushed to save her husband by 
 placing her arm across his neck. • 
 
 The sight of the money caused them 
 to desist their threatenings. 
 
 The same person, Mr. John Searing, 
 was equally fearless when commanded 
 by an officer to go with his team to the 
 harbor to cart liquor. He was in his 
 own wagon on the road and driving. 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1780 
 
 , He refused the request. A sword 
 was brandished over his head, with a 
 threat of instant death. 
 
 There was a pause, and a solemn 
 upHfting of the heart to God on his 
 part. 
 
 The trustful man then said, " If thou 
 seest anything in me worthy of death, 
 why then take my Kfe." 
 
 John Searing did not feel free, con- 
 science free, to perform such a behest. 
 
 Such perfect trust in Divine protec- 
 tion disarmed the atrocious wretch. His 
 arm fell powerless. He took the good 
 man prisoner and carried him to the colo- 
 nel, who respected his rehgious scruples. 
 
 His walk home over the fields alone 
 was full of the joy and peace of a faith- 
 ful ^Deliever. He used through his after- 
 life to recur to it as the most dehghtful 
 walk he ever took. 
 
i78o 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 The robbers, on entering the house of 
 John Willis, were so exasperated at 
 finding no booty, that they tied the 
 hands of all the family behind them, as 
 well as those of the eminent preacher, 
 Joseph Delaplaine, who was their guest 
 at the time. 
 
 They dragged the wife of Mr. Willis 
 by the hair about the house, and then 
 left them, telling them that they had set 
 fire to the house, which was true, as 
 they saw the flames kindling and curl- 
 ing up the wooden jamb beside the fire- 
 place. Their hands all tied ! 
 
 A young woman named Phebe Powell, 
 by dint of the most powerful efforts, at 
 length loosened one of her hands and 
 ran to extinguish the flames, which she 
 succeeded in doing before releasing the 
 rest from their thonefs ! 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 lySc 
 
 pjEART-SICK, and weary of record- 
 ing these deeds of horror, and long- 
 ing to divert the thoughts and allay the 
 feelings of indignation and unquiet, to 
 which they give rise and continually 
 keep in exercise, I determined to de- 
 vote this morning to the perusal of Ma- 
 jor Musgrave's writing, which, though 
 it fills my soul with sadness, exasperated 
 and harassed as it is in my present state, 
 must still be a relief, though a momen- 
 tary one. 
 
 I insert it in my diary for your peru- 
 sal, trusting that you will participate, 
 my dear husband, in the interest I felt 
 for my lost friend, and will feel with me 
 a lively concern in what so nearly relates 
 to him. 
 
 Saturday. 
 
 THE MANUSCRIPT OF MAJOR MUSGRAVE. 
 
 " Inclination and gratitude, my dear 
 
 107 
 
lySo 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 madam, prompt me to relate to you 
 some of the secrets of my life, feeling 
 assured, from the interest you have tes- 
 tified in me, that it will not be deemed 
 burdensome or intrusive. 
 
 " My youth was passed in the vicinity 
 of the pretty town of Tiverton, in De- 
 vonshire, surrounded by most sweet and 
 pleasant influences. 
 
 " The window of the little dormitory 
 from which my eye used to wander on 
 awakening from my morning slumbers, 
 took in a wide and beautiful range; 
 distant hills, verdant soft meadows, 
 browsing sheep, and lowing herds. 
 The little river Ex, like a thread of sil- 
 ver, ran through and around them all, 
 to join the Lowman, and even passed 
 through the main street of the village. 
 In midsummer we could jump over it; 
 but in the spring time, when it was 
 
 168 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1780 
 
 swollen by the rains, we had to go 
 around and cross it by the bridge. 
 
 "Our noble mansion stood on an 
 eminence, commanding a fine view of 
 the surrounding park, and the upland 
 and meadows beyond. 
 
 "The inmates consisted of my wi 
 dowed mother, one brother, myself, and 
 an orphan cousin. 
 
 "Howard and I were very unlike; 
 he a boy of noble impulses, but vola- 
 tile, unsteady, impulsive. Of a contem- 
 plative turn myself, I was studious, and 
 though deep, strong, and ardent in feel- 
 ing, yet of a calm, auiet demeanor. 
 While Howard made himself heard 
 wherever he was, engaging in field 
 sports, violent exercises, running, wrest- 
 ling, and leaping, I stayed at .home in 
 the large library chair, buried in some ex- 
 citing wild romance, legend, or tradition. 
 8 m 
 
lySo 
 
 Avierican Revolution. 
 
 " In my earliest years my imagina- 
 tion revelled in taks of enchantment 
 and fairy-land ; when older, it wondered, 
 delighted, and fed on the lore of chi- 
 valry ; built feudal castles in the air and 
 stormed them; battled down portcullis, 
 crossed the moat, stood first in the court, 
 a bold knight and true, encased in ar- 
 mor, fighting his way through deadly 
 foes, armed to the teeth, eager to plant 
 the standard of his chief on the castle 
 summit, or to rescue from oppression and 
 confinement the faire ladye of his love. 
 
 " This fuel to an already heated ima- 
 gination, poisonous food to a mind so 
 constituted (a temperament highly ex- 
 citable), was deadening to all the prac- 
 tical uses of life. 
 
 " My dear mother did not undertake 
 to direct our pursuits or watch our men- 
 tal habits ; so that we were out of harm. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1780 
 
 she left us to pursue the even tenor of 
 our way in peace. 
 
 " So I grew up a visionary; averse to 
 society, to active life, yet with a pure 
 heart, and a high moral sense. 
 
 "Howard had a roving disposition, 
 and longed to see the world, which I 
 only knew, or cared to know, through 
 books. He entered the Royal Navy, 
 that his wandering propensities might 
 have 'ample scope and verge enough.' 
 He was two years my senior. 
 
 "After what has been said, you will 
 readily believe that if love should take 
 possession of my heart, it would prove 
 an absorbing, consuming passion. So 
 hath it proved. 
 
 " In my sixteenth year Grace Arden 
 went to school at a distance from home. 
 When she was gone I first knew that I 
 loved her, and loved her not as a sister 
 
lySo 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 as I thought I did. I missed her every 
 moment, and longed for her return. In 
 one year she came ; not only in my eyes, 
 which were those of a lover, but in the 
 eyes of everybody, transcendently beau- 
 tiful, lovely, and engaging beyond de- 
 scription. 
 
 "I might dwell in rapture on those 
 graces, and glowingly paint from the 
 heart on which they are indelibly en- 
 graven, the impression of their ineffable 
 loveliness; but it is breaking at the 
 thought that it is not for me that she is 
 so fair; that all her wealth of charms 
 which I gazed and • doated on, dreamed 
 about, counted my own, and idolized as 
 a miser does his gold, was snatched from 
 my grasp ; and that the fruit so fair to 
 the eye, proved — can I say it^ — but 
 ashes, and bitterness within. 
 
 " But I could never impute a fault to 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1780 
 
 Grace, then, and it almost kills me to 
 write it now ! 
 
 "I told my love to her; she listened 
 with maidenly grace, seemed moved, 
 excited, and said it was returned. In 
 short, Grace accepted my suit. I was 
 happy — oh, how happy ! — in the convic- 
 tion ! 
 
 " We rode through groves and sha- 
 dowy lanes ; by moonlight paced the 
 terrace, breathing vows of love ; strolled 
 by the rivulet, and sat down by its side, 
 mingling our voices with its ripple, sing- 
 ing, musing, whispering ever of one and 
 the same theme — love I With Grace 
 it was a sentiment, with me a passion; 
 with her a pastime, with me the destiny of 
 my life ; with her evanescent, changeful 
 as the April clouds, with me enrooted 
 and entwined among the very heart- 
 strings ! 
 
 173 
 
178o 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 "Now, when I retrace these scenes, 
 it seemeth strange, and I wonder that I 
 clothed her mind in so many sweet per- 
 fections. But then I know that I made 
 her the embodiment of the fair vision of 
 a fervid imagination ; the ideal charmer, 
 complete in every feminine grace; in- 
 vesting her with all that fancy pictured 
 fair, and wise, and good in woman I 
 Methinks I hear you sigh. So do /, 
 now the dream is over. Had any one 
 then whispered the shadow of a suspi- 
 cion of the constancy of my Grace, I 
 should have regarded it as the vain bab- 
 bling of a fool. 
 
 "The house was thrown into un- 
 wonted confusion by the news that 
 Howard was returned from the Medi- 
 terranean, in the ship of war Vulcan; 
 and when he came dashing in one day in 
 the Royal Navy uniform, his brown curls 
 
Ajtierican Revolution, 
 
 1780 
 
 falling about his handsome embrowned 
 face, as he removed his cap, kissed Grace, 
 and the blood mantled her face, I felt 
 a slight twinge; but it quickly passed, 
 for I was secure of my possession — her 
 undivided heart. 
 
 " I said nothing of our engagement, 
 to Howard, nor did Grace, thinking it 
 prudent not to publish it until my path 
 and business in life was marked out. 
 
 " Howard remained on shore six 
 weeks, and we crowded into this short 
 space of time much enjoyment. We 
 one day took a more than ordinary dis- 
 tant ride on horseback; Grace dearly 
 loved the exercise, and Howard was an 
 accomplished horseman. I endured it 
 for her sake, for otherwise I had no plea- 
 sure in it. 
 
 " The day was fine, and we rode far 
 among the Devonshire hills. Howard 
 
1780 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 led the way up their steep sides, often 
 where neither road nor path could be 
 traced, chatting and laughing merrily 
 all the time, for his spirits were inex- 
 haustible. 
 
 . " The sun was near setting when 
 Grace switched up her little grey pal- 
 frey and left us behind ; in a moment 
 she was out of sight, and in another we 
 , heard a scream. Howard put the spurs 
 into his horse and dashed on. For one 
 instant I was stunned in alarm, but I 
 followed with the swiftness of light. 
 He was in time to save her ! 
 
 " She had mounted to the summit of 
 the hill so rapidly, that she found it im- 
 possible to arrest her progress on the 
 brink of the precipice or declivity on the 
 other side, and it could not be seen un- 
 til it was too late to avert the danger. 
 " The horse fell and rolled over and 
 
 17(5 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1780 
 
 over, Grace still fast, unable to extricate 
 herself. At this point Howard reached 
 the spot, leaped from his horse, ran 
 down the steep place, caught the pal- 
 frey by the rein, and when I came up, 
 was holding Grace in his arms, insensi- 
 ble and pale as marble. 
 
 " I thanked Heaven in a mental eja- 
 culation for her preservation ; but wished 
 — how deeply I — that / might have been 
 her deliverer. When Grace at length 
 opened her eyes, and lifted them till 
 they rested on Howard's face ; when she 
 murmured his name, looked her thanks, 
 and seemed so content in her position, 
 I felt another twinge, and wished him 
 on the blue Mediterranean, if not at the 
 bottom of it. 
 
 " For a few days after this accident 
 I felt a little nervous, and the usual 
 
 finale of such a catastrophe — the lave of 
 
 8* 
 
i78o 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 the lady — haunted my thoughts conti- 
 nually. 
 
 "But I saw nothing to excite the 
 least suspicion. Grace was as confiding 
 and loving as before, and I never loved 
 her half so well. 
 
 " In a few days after I went to Lon- 
 don for a week (for which I have ac- 
 cused, nay, hated myself since). My 
 mother wished me to go on some busi- 
 ness transaction for the family. 
 
 " I cannot say that the thought of 
 Grace and Howard's being constantly 
 thrown together did not cross my mind 
 rather unpleasantly; but it was dismissed, 
 I remember, as an unworthy one, and 
 implicit faith in the truth and fidelity of 
 my love was triumphant. 
 
 " The day after my return Howard 
 sailed for the West Indies. 
 
 " I thought Grace was distracted and 
 
 178 
 
Ainerkan Revolution. 
 
 1780 
 
 sad; rather more so than parting with 
 one for whom she had only a cousinly 
 attachment might warrant. But in a 
 little while she cheered up, and appeared 
 almost unchanged. 
 
 "Grace and I were inseparable, and 
 she acted well her part. Oh, hateful 
 dissimulation ! 
 
 " I was sleeping on the brink of ruin ; 
 basking in the sunlight on the bosom of 
 the earth which was to engulf me ; lis- 
 tening only to the voice of the charmer, 
 but deaf to the tone of warning ! 
 
 "Yet the beautiful mask must fall, 
 soon or late ; I mi/st be awakened from 
 the fascinating dream. 
 
 "The truth one day was revealed. 
 Letters came from Howard; one for 
 my mother, and one for me, and an- 
 other for Grace. 
 
 " Ours were read aloud, and handed 
 
 179 
 
i78o 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 about ; slie went away to open hers. I 
 rallied her on her return to the drawing- 
 room about keeping her letter so secret, 
 and said it was but a fair return of favor 
 to share it with us. 
 
 " In looking at her, I thought she had 
 been weeping ; there were evident traces 
 of tears on her face. 
 
 "Grace saw my surprise, and said 
 something soothing and evasive. My 
 excited suspicions were again lulled. 
 Oh, fond, infatuated fool I 
 
 " I would fain linger, and shrink from 
 the dreadful final hour. My dear, dear 
 friend, I know your warm heart feels 
 for me, and its sympathy is grateful, 
 although it fails to assuage my sorrow. 
 
 " Though Grace maintained the same 
 demeanor towards me, I began to feel a 
 change. Still the reality never dawned 
 on my mind. Could 1 distrust a being 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1780 
 
 whom I loved as my own soul ? Loved 
 idolatrously, and therefore sinfully, you 
 will say, and as I too have since learned 
 to see it. But it was' as uncontrollable 
 as phrensy ; as vain then the attempt to 
 moderate or temper it, as to allay the 
 storm-wind with a breath, or to lull the 
 tempestuous sea. 
 
 " I said that I felt a change. She had 
 a sort of patient, enduring manner when 
 with me ; a want of responsive warmth 
 of feeling; languor, if not indifference, 
 was plainly discernible. To sum all, I 
 experienced no more that indescribable 
 blissfulness, that repose, that joy, that 
 perfect happiness in her presence, which 
 reciprocal love once gave. The casket 
 was there, but the precious, priceless 
 gem was lost ! 
 
 " How long this state of deception 
 on one part, and delusion on the other, 
 
 LSI 
 
i78o 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 might have lasted, I know not. I was 
 again called to London. Excuse me, 
 dear madam, from dwelling on distaste- 
 ful, painful details ; you will pardon me 
 if I hasten my relation towards its pain- 
 ful close, and will believe that every 
 incident connected with this journey is 
 hateful to me, though stamped as with 
 red-hot iron upon my seared brain. 
 This is strong language ; you will say 
 it is the language of passion. True, my 
 dearest lady; but can I speak calmly, 
 though on the bed of death, of the re- 
 fined cruelty of suffering, the heart- 
 breaking misery which I at that time 
 endured ? 
 
 " Of the bitterness of such a retro- 
 spection, the exquisite pain of such a 
 memory (the fine edge of which is never 
 blunted), may neither you nor yours 
 ever have the faintest conception. 
 
 1S3 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1780 
 
 " I received two letters while in Lon- 
 don ; one for myself, the other to be 
 mailed by me to Howard. Of the cor- 
 respondence I was aware, and thought 
 it but natural and cousinly in Grace, 
 unsuspicious that I was I 
 
 " With a lover's impatience I opened 
 my own, as I thought. These are the 
 words which greeted my eyes : ' Oh, 
 dearest Howard, can I longer bear this 
 cruel separation?' I was startled, but 
 I instantly thought, *The mistake is 
 only in the name. It was quite a natu- 
 ral one in writing two letters.' I read 
 on : ' It is hard to seem to love another, 
 when my heart is wholly yours.' The 
 knife was driven into mine, but not yet 
 to the core. I thought myself justified 
 in reading on, or rather now think so ; 
 then I should have laughed at the ques- 
 tion. Not open my eyes when led 
 
lySo 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 blindfolded to the brink? Shut them 
 to the perfidy which betrays, destroys 
 me? 
 
 "A dimness came over my sight, a 
 sense of faintness, and yet I read on : 
 'Charles is as listless and spiritless as 
 ever. I do wish he possessed a spark 
 of the fire oi your ambition, a particle 
 of force of character; he would be at 
 all events the more agreeable as a com- 
 panion; as to love^ that is in vain for 
 him to win, or keep, with his brilliant 
 brother for a competitor.' Dizziness 
 overpowering compelled me to pause 
 ere I broke the seal of the other letter, 
 for the truth now flashed upon me : 
 ' These cruel words were intended for 
 Howard^ and the letter was directed 
 wrongly to ?ne ! ' 
 
 " At length I opened the true one, or 
 rather the false one — false indeed I 
 
American Revolution. 1780 
 
 " There were indeed no protestations 
 of love, but it was taken for granted 
 through the whole; and a longing 
 anxiety was expressed for my return, 
 and many kind things said. 
 
 " In an agony of disappointment I 
 tore the paper into shreds, and stamped 
 it beneath my heel, and wept — wept 
 such tears as manhood sheds — tears 
 wrung from the soul ! But in an in- 
 stant I resealed the precious document 
 to Howard, rang, and instantly dis- 
 patched it. 
 
 " I was not ill, no fever seized me ; 
 outwardly I was calm. But the sick- 
 ness of despair, of grief, of deception, of 
 wounded feeling and betrayed affection, 
 prostrated body and spirit. They have 
 been doing their work on this weary 
 frame from that moment, bringing me 
 to what you have seen. God knows I 
 
178o 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 have striven against it. A strong delu- 
 sion, you will perhaps think. Yes, it 
 was. I ca?2^ and could reason well ; ques- 
 tion myself as to its sin, and smile at 
 the folly of regretting one so unworthy. 
 But the spectre of my lost love haunted 
 me with its sweetness, its charm. It 
 stood before me when I attempted to 
 mingle with my fellows, when I lay 
 upon my sleepless pillow, when I knelt 
 in prayer, sat at my untasted meals, or 
 entered the house of God. The sense 
 of misery, of desertion, viper-like, preyed 
 upon my lacerated heart I 
 
 "To go home, it was impossible. 
 For ?ne there was no home. Affection 
 maketh a home. And yet I felt that 
 there was one being to whom I must 
 pour out my sorrow, on whose loving 
 breast it would soothe me to rest my 
 aching head — my Mother ! 
 
 18.3 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1780 
 
 " I wrote to her, entreated her to come 
 to London quickly; to come alone, on 
 business, or any other plea. 
 
 " She came, and was shocked at my 
 appearance beyond measure. I told her 
 all. She wept with me. The only 
 balm that had been poured into the 
 wound — her sympathy — was sweet, but 
 it could not cure me. Astonished and 
 aggrieved, she wished to intercede. 
 The idea was intolerable to me. I 
 shrank from it with inconceivable dis- 
 like, and exacted a promise from her of 
 entire silence. 
 
 '* London would not hold me now, 
 nor England. I must go somewhere. 
 My mother suggested the Continent. 
 New scenes and travel, she felt sure, 
 would in time restore me to my wonted 
 cheerfulness. Oh, little my mother knew 
 of the spirit-wound I had received! 
 
1780 
 
 A?nerican Revolution. 
 
 " The revolt of the American Colo- 
 nies had broken out. It was the field 
 for me. I knew that I must have ac- 
 tion; it was the only escape from the 
 thoughts which assailed me, the phan- 
 tom of the past which pursued and 
 tormented without ceasing. 
 
 " It was a dreadful separation to my 
 mother. If a mother ever feels an in- 
 tenser love for one child than for an- 
 other, mine^did for me; a son after her 
 own heart, dependent on her for sympa- 
 thy, even when a child, and as a man, 
 trustful, confiding, and affectionate. Be- 
 sides, was I not now the object of her 
 deep commiseration'? The tenderest 
 emotions of the heart flowed out to me 
 in near and embracing sympathy. 
 
 " I cannot recur to the parting scene. 
 Having obtained a commission of rank 
 in the army, I embarked for the Colo- 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 178c 
 
 nies. Here I have been struggling with 
 fate three long years. You, my dear 
 
 Mrs. C , have seen the end. Your 
 
 tears fall. You weep that one so young 
 should be the victim of unrestrained 
 passion. It is sorrowful thus to die. 
 But Death, I hail thee as a merciful 
 messenger ! I know that I am in the 
 hands of One who knoweth and pitieth 
 my infirmities. He will have mercy 
 on me. All my pangs, my struggles, 
 are not hid from him. He heareth the 
 voice of my prayer. Blessed be his holy 
 name I 
 
 " P.S. I heard two years since of 
 the marriage of Howard. I can, and 
 do forgive them. . . . Place the minia- 
 ture on my heart. Send the other keep- 
 sakes to my precious mother. My heart 
 aches for her in anticipation of the an- 
 guish she will have on my account! 
 
 189 
 
l78o 
 
 American Revolution, 
 
 God bless her I And you, my dear 
 lady, your honored father, and little 
 ones. You have all solaced and com- 
 forted me." 
 
 Will not tears indeed flow at the pe- 
 rusal of this affecting recital ? I regret, 
 dear Edward, that you never knew Ma- 
 jor Musgrave ; I am sure that your dis- 
 criminating judgment would have led 
 you to appreciate him. 
 
 We still feel his loss deeply. Even 
 Charles, though young and volatile, was 
 saddened many days after his departure, 
 as were the servants, and every one 
 about the house. Old Nero would 
 have done anything to serve him. I 
 have seen tears coursing down his dark 
 face when the Major, on some mild 
 sunny morning, assisted out by Shultz, 
 would stand in his dressing-gown, lean- 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1781 
 
 ing against the garden gate, looking so 
 woful and so pale ! No wonder Nero's 
 heart was touched; he has as warm a 
 one as ever beat beneath a white man's 
 breast. 
 
 A N unusual press for men and horses 
 to-day. The Sabbath is no more 
 regarded than any other day, especially 
 as it affords a favorable time for stealing 
 hay, cattle, etc., when most of the men 
 are attending divine worship. 
 
 Being at private devotions, I was in- 
 terrupted by the entrance of Charles, 
 shouting vociferously, " The Britisher is 
 after Nero I " 
 
 It seems that a light-horseman rode 
 up rapidly to Henry Pattison's, inquiring 
 for men; all were gone to meeting. 
 He looked about and in the house, and 
 satisfied himself of the fact, but unfor- 
 
 Sunday 
 
 191 
 
lySi Ajnerican Revolution. 
 
 tunately espied our Nero standing in the 
 stable doorway. 
 
 "By Jove," said he, "I'll have that 
 negro." 
 
 Seeing the soldier running towards 
 him, poor Nero expected to be taken, 
 and was already trying to reconcile him- 
 self to his fate, but he suddenly thought, 
 " It's not worth while to give in without 
 an effort." So, keeping the barn be- 
 tween himself and his pursuer, he made 
 for a large hay-stack enclosed in the 
 middle of the field. 
 
 The red-coat ran his horse violently, 
 with the intention, doubtless, of overtak- 
 ing him before he reached the stack ; but 
 Nero, though rather old and stiff, reached 
 it, and jumped over the fence of en- 
 closure. 
 
 Almost instantly the Britisher rode up 
 with his drawn sword, and swore if he 
 
 1P2 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1781 
 
 did not yield himself up, he would run 
 him through. 
 
 We now saw the soldier ride furiously 
 round the hay-stack, and old Nero get 
 on it, although with some difficulty, for 
 it was ten or fifteen feet high. Then 
 the enemy dismounted and leaped over 
 the fence. Nero running backwards 
 and forwards on the hay-stack (the top 
 of it was flat and about thirty feet long), 
 the soldier striking at him unsuccessfully 
 with his sword all the time. At length 
 we saw that he too got upon the hay- 
 stack, and we gave up poor Nero; his^ 
 fate seemed inevitable. Not so; he 
 most adroitly eluded the light-horseman ; 
 jumped off, crossed the fence, and made 
 for the woods. 
 
 His pursuer meanwhile mounted his 
 horse and was in hot pursuit; indeed, 
 close at his heels. Luckily there was a 
 
 9 103 
 
1781 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 thick hedge to cross, where our old hero 
 had the advantage, for the horse would 
 not leap it, and the rider, fuming and 
 cursing dreadfully, was obliged to dis- 
 mount again ; but the fugitive was now 
 far on his way to the woods, where it 
 was fruitless to follow. He was in such 
 a rage at being thus baffled, that Nero 
 would have fared badly had he ever 
 fallen into his hands. He remained in 
 the woods until after dark, when he 
 crept home, and received a warm wel- 
 come, especially from the children. 
 
 Tuesday. ^T^HE news of the battle of Yorktown 
 confirmed. 
 Some months since General Wash- 
 ington broke up the camp at White 
 Plains and crossed the Hudson river, 
 passed quietly through the Jerseys and 
 the Province of Pennsylvania, and joined 
 
 104 
 
American Revolution. 1781 
 
 the young Marquis de la Fayette, who 
 commanded a large force at Elk river. 
 
 Here they separated the forces, one 
 body sailing for Virginia, the other 
 marching for the same point. 
 
 At a place called Chester (I believe 
 in the Province of Pennsylvania), Gene- 
 ral Washington heard the joyful news 
 of the arrival of twenty-four French ships 
 of the line, under Count de Grasse. 
 
 They had an engagement with the 
 enemy under Admiral Graves, in which 
 the French Allies were victors, and left 
 masters of the Bay of Chesapeake. 
 
 The whole American force under 
 Washington surrounded the king's 
 troops at Yorktown; they were block- 
 aded by land and by water by an army 
 (including French and militia) of 16,000. 
 
 The tremendous firing of artillery 
 took the enemy by storm ; they could 
 
lySi 
 
 American Revolution, 
 
 neither rally nor recover. Their bat- 
 teries and defences were completely de- 
 molished ; their guns were silenced, and 
 no hope of relief or way of escape re- 
 mained. 
 
 On the 17th of October, Lord Corn- 
 wallis, the British commander of the 
 land forces, proposed a cessation of hos- 
 tilities, and two days afterwards surren- 
 dered ; and articles were signed by which 
 the troops, stores, and shipping fell into 
 the hands of General Washington. 
 Thus was the pride of the royal army 
 laid low. 
 
 The thanks and praise be to God I 
 We do not dare ascribe it to the strength 
 of an arm of flesh, but to the righteous- 
 ness of our cause, and to the might and 
 power our great commander hath been 
 endued with from on high. 
 
 The people are cautious in their ex- 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 1781 
 
 presslons, being surrounded by the Bri- 
 tish; but their joy is irrepressible at the 
 good news, though no pubhc demonstra- 
 tion can be made. 
 
 Divine service was performed in the 
 American brigades, and the Commander- 
 in-Chief recommended that all who were 
 not on duty should join in worship, 
 enjoining "a serious deportment, and 
 that sensibility of heart which the recol- 
 lection of the surprising and' particular 
 interposition of Divine Providence in 
 our favor claims." 
 
 ^y^HILE joy reignc in a large por- 
 tion of the country, we are not 
 released from persecution. It has in- 
 deed been at times almost beyond 
 endurance. "Day unto day uttereth 
 speech." Sometimes we are ready to 
 exclaim, "Wo is the day that ever my 
 
 - 197 
 
 Wednesday, 
 
78i 
 
 A7nerican Revolution. 
 
 But the morning 
 
 eyes saw the light I " 
 
 is breaking; our Father in heaven hath 
 
 not utterly hid his face from us. 
 
 Nov. 5^/z. 
 
 IV/f Y husband writes most cheeringly. 
 The letter was brought by a friend 
 of Major Musgrave, who wished to 
 make inquiries respecting him, and take 
 charge of his effects. The gentleman 
 seemed to have loved him well, and to 
 have appreciated the sweetness and deli- 
 cacy of his nature. He was much 
 moved at my recital of the Major's suf- 
 ferings, mental and bodily. We weep, 
 but not for him ; he sleepeth well. 
 
 A DAY of public thanksgiving. May 
 the incense of prayer and praise 
 ascend from the altar of my heart I 
 
 My honored father participates in the 
 general joy ; not for the discomfiture of 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 1782 
 
 the British, but from the hope of peace, 
 which his soul loveth, and the heahng 
 of discord. 
 
 TT is the first day of the year. The 
 httle ones are very merry, and are 
 wishing all they meet " a happy coming- 
 year." It is for them a pleasant day, but 
 we are saddened by its recurrence. The 
 sunshine of their hearts is not clouded; 
 blessed season of hope and joy I In my 
 own, too, it dawns more brightly than 
 the last. My loved partner is not here, 
 but I have cause to sing the song of 
 deliverance, in that his precious life hath 
 been preserved amid so many and great 
 dangers, which he has never shunned 
 but rather courted. Is not the prospect 
 brightened for my country since this 
 time last year? And for him whom 
 the voice of men placed at the helm — 
 
 Jan, \st. 
 
1782 
 
 American Revolution. 
 
 the great Washington — is there no joy, 
 no. gratitude, in the deep places of my 
 heart, that God hath raised him up, hath 
 preserved, hath prospered him ? 
 
 Aug, \oth. "l^EWS of Lord North's resignation 
 of the office of Prime Minister, 
 and the forming of a new cabinet, who 
 advise His Majesty to discontinue the 
 war. Glorious news! Heaven grant 
 it may be true. It is certain the war 
 has proved but great loss of life and 
 treasure, without any real gain to Eng- 
 lish valor, or concession on the part of 
 the Colonies. 
 
 Faces of men, women, and children, 
 brighten with expectation of better times. 
 May their hope be not again over- 
 clouded ! In war there is not a gleam 
 of light to illuminate the darkness. Its 
 practices are adverse to the law of con- 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 782 
 
 science, and lacerating to the feeling 
 heart. 
 
 We are ready to shout the pean of 
 victory, to exult afar off in the triumph, 
 and to cheer on the conflict. Buf could 
 we witness the heart-sickening details, 
 see the loathsome reality, hear the pierc- 
 ing groan, the horrid imprecation, the 
 fiendish laugh, we should " rejoice with 
 trembling," and mourn the necessity, 
 while we return thanks for the victory. 
 
 Then let us pause in silence, and 
 while the good angel of our thoughts 
 brings to our recollection the frightful 
 Gorgon-brood of evils which follow in 
 the train of War, pray without ceasing 
 that Peace may come and reign in our 
 land. 
 
 'TpHE cry of peace resounds I The 
 
 news came to-day. The children 
 9* 
 
 201 
 
 April 23. 
 
1783 
 
 American Revolution, 
 
 ran from school, dismissed by the teacher, 
 that all might share in the general joy. 
 They are told that some great good has 
 happened, they know not what. The 
 time will come when they will experi- 
 ence and treasure it as the highest favor 
 vouchsafed by a kind Providence. God 
 be praised I 
 
 The soldiers and Hessians are mov- 
 ing off in bands, and the sick are left 
 behind to follow after. Many of the 
 poor creatures have formed attachments, 
 and the ties of kindness and gratitude 
 are hard to break. The human heart, 
 of whatever clime or station, v:ill respond 
 to good treatment; and it is cheering 
 and delightful to observe that, in spite 
 of the greatest personal inconvenience, 
 by patience and good offices, we may 
 awaken interest and gratitude in those 
 beneath us. 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 /^o 
 
 Many of them begged to be permit- 
 ted to remain in some menial capacity; 
 but the ties of kindred prevailed with 
 the greater part. 
 
 203 
 
Appendix. 
 
A Sermon 
 
 PREACHED ON THE EVE OF THE BAT- 
 TLE OF BRANDYWINE BY THE REV. 
 JOAB TROUT, SEPTEMBER loth, 1777. 
 
 " N'^'^ ^°"^ since," writes Mr. Hamil- 
 ton Schefmyer, "searching into 
 the papers of my grandfather, Major 
 John Jacob Schefmyer, who was out in 
 the days of the Revohition, I found the 
 following discourse, delivered in the 
 presence of a large portion of the Ame- 
 rican soldiery, General Washington, 
 General Wayne, and other officers of 
 the army, on the eve of the battle of 
 Brandywine." 
 
 207 
 
uimerkan Revolution. 
 
 " '^Jicy that take the sword shall perish hy 
 the sword'' — St. Matthew, chap. 27, v. 52. 
 
 Soldiers and Countrymen : 
 
 We have met this evening, perhaps 
 for the last time I We have shared 
 the toil of the march, the peril of the 
 fight, and the dismay of the retreat 
 alike ; we have endured the cold and 
 hunger, the contumely of the internal 
 foe, and courage of the foreign oppres- 
 sor. We have sat, night after night, 
 beside the camp fire ; we have heard 
 together the roll of the reveille, which 
 called us to duty, or the beat of the 
 tattoo, which gave the signal for the 
 hardy sleep of the soldier, with the earth 
 for his bed and the knapsack for his 
 pillow. 
 
 And now, soldiers and brethren, we 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 have met in the peaceful valley on the 
 eve of battle, while the sunlight is dying 
 away behind yonder heights — the sun- 
 light that to-morrow morn will ghmmer 
 on scenes of blood I 
 
 We have met amid the whitening 
 tents of our encampment; in time of 
 terror and of gloom have we gathered 
 together. God grant it may not be for 
 the last time ! 
 
 It is a solemn moment, brethren. 
 Does not the solemn voice of nature 
 seem to echo the sympathies of the 
 hour ? The flag of our country droops 
 heavily from yonder staff; the breeze 
 has died away along the green plain of 
 Chadd's Ford, the plain that spreads be- 
 fore us glittering in the sunlight. The 
 heights of the Brandywine arise gloomy 
 and grand beyond the waters of yonder 
 stream. All nature holds a solemn si- 
 
 209 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 lence on the eve of the uproar, of the 
 bloodshed and strife of to-morrow ! 
 
 " '^hey that take the sword shall perish hy 
 the sword," 
 
 And have they not taken the sword "? 
 
 Let the desolated plain, the blood- 
 sodden valley, the burned farm-house, 
 blackening in the sun, the sacked vil- 
 lage, and the ravaged town, answer! 
 Let the whitening bones of the butch- 
 ered farmer, strewed along the fields of 
 his homestead, answer ! Let the starv- 
 ing mother, with the babe clinging to 
 the withered breast that can afford no 
 sustenance, let her answer, with the death- 
 rattle mingling with the murmuring 
 tones that mark the last struggle of life ! 
 Let that dying mother and her babe 
 answer ! 
 
 It was but a day past, and our land 
 slept in the quiet of peace. War was 
 
 210 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 not here ; wrong was not here. Fraud, 
 and wo, and misery, and want dwelt not 
 among us. From the eternal solitude 
 of the green woods rose the blue smoke 
 of the settler's cabin, and golden fields 
 of corn looked forth from amid the 
 waste of the wilderness, and the glad 
 music of human voices awoke the si- 
 lence of the forest. 
 
 Now — God of mercy! — behold the 
 change ! Under the shadow of a pre- 
 text, under the sanctity of the name of 
 God, invoking the Redeemer to their 
 aid, do these foreign hirelings slay our 
 people ! They throng our towns, they 
 darken our plains, and now they encom- 
 pass our posts on the lonely plain of 
 Chadd's Ford. 
 
 " '^hey that take the sword shall perish ly 
 the sword." 
 
 Brethren, think me not unworthy of 
 
 211 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 belief when I tell you the doom of the 
 British is near I Think me not vain, 
 when I tell you that beyond the cloud 
 that now enshrouds us, I see gathering, 
 thick and fast, the darker cloud and the 
 blacker storm of divine retribution I 
 
 They may conquer us to-morrow. 
 Might and wrong may prevail, and we 
 may be driven from this field, but the 
 hour of God's own vengeance will 
 come ! 
 
 Ay, if in the vast solitudes of eter- 
 nal space, if in the heart of the bound- 
 less universe, there throbs the being of 
 an awful God, quick to avenge and 
 sure to punish guilt, then will the man 
 George of Brunswick, called King, feel 
 in his brain and his heart the vengeance 
 of the eternal Jehovah ! A blight will 
 be upon his life, a withered brain and 
 accursed intellect ; a blight will be upon 
 
 212 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 his children, and on his people ! Great 
 God, how dread the punishment ! 
 
 A crowded populace, peopling the 
 dense towns, where the man of money 
 thrives while the laborer starves; want 
 striding among the people in all its 
 forms of terror; a proud and merciless 
 nobility adding wrong to wrong, and 
 heaping insult upon robbery and fraud ; 
 a God-defying priesthood ; royalty cor- 
 rupt to the very heart, and aristocracy 
 rotten to the core; crime and want 
 linked hand in hand and tempting men 
 to deeds of wo and death; tliese are a 
 part of the doom and retribution that 
 will come upon the English throne, and 
 the English people I 
 
 Soldiers, I look around upon your 
 familiar faces with strange interest. To- 
 morrow morning we will all go forth to 
 the battle ; for need I tell you that your 
 
 213 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 unworthy minister will march with you, 
 invoking God's aid in the fight ? We 
 will march forth to battle ! Need I 
 exhort you to fight the good fight; to 
 fight for your homesteads, for your wives 
 and children ? 
 
 My friends, I might urge you to fight 
 by the galling memories of British 
 wrong. Walton, I might tell you of 
 your father butchered in the silence of 
 night on the plains of Trenton; I might 
 picture his grey hairs dabbled in blood ; 
 I might ring his death-shriek in your 
 ears! 
 
 Shelmire, I might tell you of a butch- 
 ered mother ; the lonely farm-house, the 
 night assault, the roof in flames, the 
 shouts of the troopers as they dispatched 
 their victims; the cries for mercy, the 
 pleadings of innocence for pity. I might 
 paint this all again in the vivid colors 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 of the terrible reality, if I thought your 
 courage needed such wild excitement. 
 
 But I know you are strong in the 
 might of the Lord. You will march 
 forth to battle on the morrow with light 
 hearts and determined spirits, though 
 the solemn duty, the duty of avenging 
 the dead, may rest heavy on your souls. 
 
 And in the hour of battle, when all 
 around the darkness is lit by the lurid 
 cannon glare, and the piercing musket 
 flash, when the wounded strew the 
 ground and the dead litter your path, 
 then remember, soldiers, that God is 
 with you ! The etcinal God fights for 
 you ! He rides on the battle-cloud ; he 
 sweeps onward with the march, or the 
 hurricane charge ! God, the awful and the 
 infinite, fights for you, and will triumph ! 
 
 " ^hey that take the sword shall perish ly 
 the swordr 
 
 215 
 
American Rccolution. 
 
 You have taken the sword, but not 
 in the spirit of wrong and ravage. You 
 have taken the sword for your homes, 
 for your wives, for your little ones. 
 You have taken the sword for truth, for 
 justice and right; and to you the pro- 
 mise is, "Be of good cheer, for your 
 foes have taken the sword in defiance 
 of all that man holds dear, in blasphemy 
 of God." They shall perish by the 
 sword. 
 
 And, now, brethren and soldiers, I 
 bid you all farewell ! 
 
 Many of us may fall in the battle to- 
 morrow. God rest the souls of the 
 fallen I Many of us may live to tell 
 the story of the fight to-morrow, and in 
 the memory of all will ever rest and 
 linger the quiet scene of this autumnal 
 night. 
 
 Solemn twilight advances over the 
 
 216 
 
American Revclution. 
 
 valley. The woods on the opposite 
 heights fling their long shadows over 
 the green of the meadow. Around us 
 are the tents of the Continental host; 
 the suppressed bustle of the camp, the 
 hurried tramp of the soldiers to and fro 
 among the tents, the stillness and awe 
 that marks the eve of battle. 
 
 When we meet again may the sha- 
 dows of twilight be flung over a peace- 
 ful land. God in heaven grant it I 
 
 Let us pray. 
 
 Oh God of mercy, we pray thy bless- 
 ing on the American arms. Make the 
 man of our hearts strong in thy wisdom; 
 bless, we beseech thee, with renewed 
 life and strength, our hope and Thy 
 instrument, even George Washington. 
 Shower thy counsels down on the Hon- 
 orable the Continental Congress. Visit 
 the tents of our host; comfort the sol- 
 
 10 217 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 dier in his wounds and afflictions ; nerve 
 him for the fight; prepare him for the 
 hour of death. 
 
 And in the hour of defeat, oh, God 
 of Hosts, do thou be our stay; and in 
 the hour of triumph be thou our guide. 
 
 TeUch us to be merciful. Though 
 the memory of gaUing wrongs be at our 
 hearts knocking for admittance, that 
 they may fill us with the desire of re- 
 venge, yet let us, oh. Lord, spare the 
 vanquished, though they never spared 
 us in the hour of butchery and blood- 
 shed ! 
 
 And in the hour of death do thou 
 guide us to the abode prepared for the 
 blessed ; so shall we return thanks unto 
 thee through Christ our Redeemer. 
 
 God prosper the Cause. Amen. 
 
 218 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 
 Recolle ctions 
 
 OF 
 
 General Washingto 
 
 N 
 
 'pHE following note was found among 
 the papers of the late Lord Erskine : 
 
 "To General Washington: 
 
 "Sir,— I have taken the liberty to 
 introduce your august and immortal 
 name in a short sentence which is to 
 be found in the book I send to you. 
 
 '' I have a large acquaintance among 
 the most valuable and exalted class of 
 men; but you are the only human being 
 for whom I ever felt an awful reverence. 
 
 219 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 I sincerely pray to God to grant a long 
 and serene evening to a life so glori- 
 ously devoted to the happiness of the 
 
 world. 
 
 "T. Erskine." 
 
 In the year of our Lord 1790, I stood 
 upon the door-step of the counting- 
 house, of which I was then but the 
 youngest clerk, when the companion 
 beside me hurriedly said, "There he 
 comes ! There comes Washington ! " 
 
 I looked up Pearl Street, and saw 
 approaching, with stately tread and 
 open brow, the Father of my country. 
 His hat was off, for the day was sultry, 
 and he was accompanied by Colonel 
 Page and James Madison. 
 
 Never have I forgotten, nor shall I 
 to my dying day forget, the serene, the 
 
 220 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 benign, the god-like expression of the 
 countenance of that man of men. His 
 lofty mien and commanding figure, set 
 off to advantage by an elegant dress, 
 consisting of a blue coat, buff small 
 clothes, silver knee and shoe buckles, 
 and white vest; his powdered locks, 
 and powerful, vigorous look (for he 
 was then in the prime and strength of 
 his manhood), have never faded from 
 my mind during the many years which, 
 with all their chances and changes, have 
 rolled between. 
 
 As Washington passed near the spot 
 where I stood, his mild, clear, blue eye 
 fell upon me, and it seemed as though 
 his very glance was a benediction. 
 Though high deeds and noble acts, 
 fame, death, a nation's worship and 
 tears, have since in the deep places of 
 my heart consecrated his name above 
 
 221 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 every other name of earth, yet even 
 then, boy as I was, the glance thrilled 
 me through and through ; my eyes fell 
 beneath it, and my hand was involun- 
 tarily raised to uncover my head as that 
 august personage passed by. 
 
 The aspect of the outer man alone 
 was calculated to enforce respect, to 
 compel awe and reverence. But there 
 is that in the sight and presence of a 
 being we revere, a being whose name 
 we have been taught to lisp in infancy 
 with grateful affection, and have had 
 held up to us in boyhood as worthy of 
 all honor and imitation, which stirs feel- 
 ings which lie far down in the depths of 
 the soul, and inspires faith and trust in 
 God, and in human goodness. Oh! 
 heaven-taught, heaven-endowed man ! 
 ordained of thy Maker to be thy coun- 
 try's deliverer ! 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 Once again I saw the President. He 
 was riding, the carriage being drawn by- 
 four beautiful bays. I remember well 
 its silver plate and yellow panels (yel- 
 low, by the way, has ever since seemed 
 to me a proper and aristocratic color for 
 a vehicle of this kind). Mrs., or Lady 
 Washington, as she was always called, 
 sat by his side. She was of a comely 
 and pleasant countenance, and appeared 
 to be conversing in a lively manner 
 with the General. 
 
 "Be not too familiar, lest men see 
 thine infirmities, and learn to cavil at 
 thy teaching." 
 
 This truth Washington appears to 
 have appreciated ; or rather it was in- 
 nate in his character. Yet no man had 
 fewer infirmities than he, and none 
 could have less dread of scrutiny. The 
 most conspicuous trait in his character, 
 
 223 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 and one of the rarest virtues, was mode- 
 ration. This was exemplified in every 
 act of his life. Temperance shone in all ; 
 it was the guide of his conduct, the key 
 to his great successes. Ambition, fame, 
 military glory, considered in themselves, 
 seem never to have had entrance into 
 his clear, conscientious mind. With 
 him all " the pomp and circumstance of 
 glorious war" was never dreamed of 
 The right and freedom nerved his arm. 
 He drew only the sword of defence. 
 Though his courage was undaunted, 
 enthusiasm formed no part of his cha- 
 racter. " The loud clarion and the spirit- 
 stirring drum " never drowned in his ear 
 the cry of despair, the shriek of the dy- 
 ing. He never for a moment forgot 
 that the fall of the meanest soldier on 
 the battle-field carried desolation, wailing, 
 and often destitution, into an household. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 But to return. The gaily prancing 
 steeds soon rolled the carriage out of 
 sight, and left me standing in the street, 
 an enthusiastic boy-dreamer, with won- 
 dering gaze and crowding thoughts. 
 
 Once more was he borne along; the 
 steeds not now prancing and gay, but 
 one, the old war-horse, led before his 
 master's body, saddle and stirrup empty, 
 and cloth of black covering him I Mourn- 
 fully the dumb animal seemed to walk. 
 How mutely eloquent it was ! 
 
 The scene is now before me ; the so- 
 lemn procession slowly moving, marked 
 through all its length with the sad trap- 
 ping of wo. The unutterably solemn 
 strain of music, the march for the dead, 
 rings in my ear. I seem to see again 
 the serious, downcast faces of the men 
 who followed it. Again I hear the sobs 
 and the weeping of the women, and see 
 
 10* 225 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 the wondering and affrighted , look of 
 the little children. Each mourned as 
 with a personal grief Earth will never 
 again behold such a spectacle — a nation 
 melted in tears ! 
 
 Why were they shed? What trait 
 of our beloved Washington do we most 
 gratefully reverence? Is it not his 
 transcendent goodness, his unsullied in- 
 tegrity, his purest patriotism? Yes, 
 we love while we honor his memory. 
 While he lived, we reposed trust in 
 him, as in an ark of safety, a shield of 
 defence. A God-fearing man. He pros- 
 pered and blessed his life. Favored of 
 Heaven, he enjoyed the confidence of 
 men. No, I repeat, never shall I forget 
 the words which wrought wonder, con- 
 sternation, and fear in my mind — Wash- 
 ington is dead! 
 
 For many years I dwelt in the very 
 
 226 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 house in which the great defender lived. 
 I slept in the very room in which 
 he slumbered. Sometimes an ancient 
 friend of the family would point out 
 with pleasure and honorable pride the 
 very spots where the General and his 
 lady stood on grand reception days; 
 how they were attired; what gracious 
 words they spake, and how kindly and 
 how hospitable they were. 
 
 And then the old man, sighing, said 
 to my mother, with the retrospective 
 glance of age, " Ah, madam, these were 
 palmy days!" 
 
 There was one article in the house 
 which had belonged to the Washington 
 family, and only one. It was an old 
 mirror. It fitted over the mantelpiece 
 underneath the wainscotting, and was 
 never removed. Well do I remember, 
 when a mere child, being told this by 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 an old servant, and how I gazed upon it 
 with veneration, because it had often re- 
 flected the face and form of the beloved 
 Washington. It was held as a relic of him. 
 Many a weary night when I have 
 lain sleepless on my bed, the wind 
 whistling mournfully without, a lonely 
 feeling would creep over me as I looked 
 upon the wainscotted walls of The 
 Great Room, the old blue tiles of the 
 large fire-place, and the deep embrasured 
 windows, and felt the stillness so pro- 
 found within that I could almost hear 
 the beating of my heart. Then the ter- 
 rors of a fearful imagination would be 
 exorcised, as the words of my mother 
 seemed to whisper me again: "When 
 vain fears disturb thee, remember the 
 good man who once lay where thou 
 liest, and be thankful. The dark vision 
 will be dispelled." 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 Then I have thought, "His eyes 
 have rested on the objects which I now 
 behold." I have fancied the thoughts 
 that might have filled his mind as he 
 lay on a sometime sleepless pillow- 
 thoughts pure, thankful, self-sacrificing 
 noble ! ^ 
 
 A vivid picture of the illustrious man 
 was before me; his countenance up- 
 lifted and lustrous with heavenly peace 
 and hope; his hands upraised, and his 
 lips moving with words of prayer and 
 praise. For I had been told diat he 
 was a man of prayer; and in this, I had I 
 been taught to believe, lay his strength. | 
 
 And then (easy transition), a yet more 
 glorious vision passed before me— a 
 beatific vision. T have seen him one 
 of the throng of those who walk in 
 white beneath the shadow of the Eter- 
 nal Throne; his face radiant with joy. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 and a crown of light encircling his brow, 
 yet wearing the same serene, majestic 
 look which he wore on earth. 
 
 Spirit of Washington! wise, mild, 
 merciful, temperate, just, we evoke thee ! 
 Influence, guide, and rule thy country- 
 men! 
 
 230 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 Recollections 
 
 OF 
 
 General La Fayette 
 
 TN dwelling upon Washington, the 
 name of another great man rises 
 involuntarily — La Fayette. His disin- 
 terestedness, noble heroism, and pure 
 integrity, shine with unsullied lustre. 
 We experience a hearty reverence and 
 affection; are proud that such a man 
 espoused our cause, and freely accord 
 to him the high honor of one worthy 
 to be called the Friend of Washington. 
 Kindred in spirit, in aims, in hopes. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 Washington tempered the ardor of La 
 Fayette, viewing him in the hght of a 
 dear son, while La Fayette reverenced 
 the wisdom, greatness, and virtue of 
 his guide, his example, his more than 
 friend. 
 
 Married to a lovely and high-born 
 woman in the year 1774, when but a 
 little over seventeen years of age, in the 
 summer of ^76 La Fayette was sta- 
 tioned on military duty at Metz, being 
 then an officer in the French army. 
 Dining at that time with the Duke of 
 Glocester (brother to the King of Eng- 
 land) at the house of the commandant 
 of that place, the conversation fell on 
 American affairs. 
 
 The details were new to the young 
 Marquis. He listened with eagerness 
 and intense interest. The cause seemed 
 to him just and noble, from the repre- 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 sentations of the Duke himself, and be- 
 fore he left the table he devoted himself 
 heart and hand to it. He determined 
 to offer his services to a people who 
 were struggling for freedom and inde- 
 pendence, And from that hour he could 
 think of nothing but this chivalrous en- 
 terprise. 
 
 The property of La Fayette being at 
 his own disposal (an annual revenue of 
 two hundred thousand livres), he was 
 enabled to pursue in this respect his 
 heroic inclinations. His youthful ima- 
 gination was fired with the thirst of 
 glory. The dazzling vision of conquer- 
 ing and establishing a wide country 
 over the sea, to be the habitation, home, 
 and dwelling-place of Freedom, so dear 
 to his lofty and untrammelled mind, be- 
 came real and palpable. Recollections 
 of the glorious Fast, its republics and 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 their ancient splendor, arts, letters, poets, 
 orators, and warriors, filled his mind, 
 and mingled with the cry of the op- 
 pressed sounding in his ear, above the 
 booming ocean which rolled between, 
 fixing his firm resolve. 
 
 Born and cradled amid the most aris- 
 tocratic influences, brought up in the 
 lap of luxury, and united to the object 
 of his affections, rank, wealth, friends, 
 power, whose blandishments are so blind- 
 ing to the mental and moral vision, and 
 so inimical to high purposes and noble 
 deeds, were unheeded by La Fayette. 
 That cry for succor was never stilled. 
 He would not turn a deaf ear to it. 
 The promptings of a generous heart 
 were obeyed. The sacrifice was made ; 
 to him no sacrifice, yet in truth a tremen- 
 dous one, one which we feel with a thrill 
 of gratitude, and shall to all generations. 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 By leaving France, La Fayette in- 
 curred the displeasure of his king and 
 of the nobles and his own relations. To 
 his wife he thus writes, when fairly off 
 at sea : 
 
 "How many fears and anxieties en- 
 hance the keen anguish I feel at being 
 separated from all that I love most 
 fondly in the world! How have you* 
 borne my departure ? Have you loved 
 me less? Have you pardoned me? 
 Your sorrow, that of my friends, and 
 my child, all rushed upon my thoughts, 
 and my heart was torn by a thousand 
 painful feelings. I could not at that 
 instant find any excuse for my own 
 conduct. 
 
 " If you could know all that I have 
 suffered, and the melancholy days that 
 I have passed, whilst flying from all 
 that I love best in the world ! Must I 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 join to this affliction the grief of hear- 
 ing that you do not pardon me? I 
 should feel in truth too miserable. But 
 I need not fear this, need I, my dearest 
 love?" 
 
 In reading such letters we fully esti- 
 mate the costliness of the sacrifice. We 
 may perhaps feel regret in reviewing 
 some scenes in the life of La Fayette. 
 We regret that the life of Louis and 
 his beautiful queen, placed in his hands, 
 were not, by decision, firmness, and fore- 
 thought, saved. Speaking of them, he 
 says: "The king and queen, whose 
 lamentable fate only allows me to pride 
 myself on some service I have rendered 
 them." Again : " If I have erred in the 
 path I am pursuing, forgive the illusions 
 of my head in favor of the good inten- 
 tions and rectitude of my heart." 
 
 Washington's love for La Fayette 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 forms one of the softest and most beau- 
 tiful traits of his august character. " He 
 came," says the Marquis, in speaking of 
 a severe illness he suffered, " every day 
 to inquire after his friend, but fearing to 
 agitate him, only conversed with the 
 physician, and returned home with tear- 
 ful eyes, and a heart oppressed with 
 grief." 
 
 When La Fayette was wounded at 
 Brandywine, Washington said to the 
 surgeon, "Take care of him as if he 
 were my son, for I love him the same ; " 
 and he expressed for him during this 
 illness the most tender and paternal 
 anxiety. 
 
 "How is it possible," exclaims La 
 Fayette, whose love and respect knew 
 no bounds, "that he should not have 
 been warmly cherished by his disciple — 
 he who, uniting all that is good to all 
 
 237 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 that is great, is even more sublime from 
 his virtues than from his talents ? Had 
 he been a common soldier he would 
 have been the bravest in the ranks ; had 
 he been an obscure citizen, all his neigh- 
 bors would have respected him. With 
 a heart and mind equally correctly 
 formed, he judged both of himself and 
 circumstances with strict impartiality." 
 
 "Nature," he adds, "while creating 
 him expressly for that Revolution, con- 
 ferred an honor upon herself And to 
 show her work to the greatest possible 
 advantage, so constituted it, that each 
 distinct quality would have failed in 
 producing the end required, had it not 
 been sustained by all the others." 
 
 The most delightful recollections of 
 my earliest childhood are those of the 
 visit of General de La Fayette to Ame- 
 rica. The splendid pageant of his en- 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 trance into this city is indelibly im- 
 printed on my memory; as is also the 
 being held on men's shoulders in the 
 Park, after viewing, in all its pompous 
 length, the procession, to behold the 
 benevolent and beaming countenance 
 of one whom I had been taught to re- 
 vere. 
 
 Afterwards too, the honor that I felt 
 in being taken by the hand by this 
 great and brave man, my heart beating 
 proudly the while beneath the ribbon 
 badge which I wore, stamped with his 
 features, and with the words, ''''Welcome 
 to the Nation's Guest." 
 
 Oh, happy day for me ! thrice happy 
 and glorious to him ! 
 
 The animated face, plain dress, few 
 courteous words, and gracious, kind 
 looks of La Fayette, are well remem- 
 bered. 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 Kings and emperors have visited the 
 kingdoms of their compeers, when more 
 elaborate pageantry, more royal pomp 
 has been displayed. 
 
 From war, victors have come laden 
 with spoils, while the populace, with 
 frantic zeal, have dragged their cnariots 
 through the crowd of benighted wor- 
 shippers; but such an universal, spon- 
 taneous outburst of national gratitude — 
 the impulse of millions as of one undi- 
 vided heart and mind — cherished, trans- 
 mitted, and grown with the nation's 
 growth, during the lapse of near fifty 
 years, was never before exhibited to the 
 world — was never recorded on history's 
 page I 
 
 240 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 Anecdotes of 
 
 AND 
 
 Tributes to Washington. 
 
 JN 1754 he was stationed at Alexan- 
 dria with his regiment, the only one 
 in the colony, of which he was the colo- 
 nel. There happened at that time to be 
 an election in Alexandria for members of 
 the Assembly, and the ballot ran high 
 between Colonel George Fairfax and 
 Mr. William Elgey. 
 
 Washington was on the side of Fair- 
 fax, and a Mr. William Payne headed 
 the friends of Elgey. 
 
 11 241 
 
Ajnerican Revolution, 
 
 In the course of the contest, Wash- 
 ington grew very warm (for his passions 
 naturally were very powerful, though a 
 wise regard to duty, Le. honor and hap- 
 piness, soon reduced them to proper 
 command), and unluckily said some- 
 thing to Mr. Payne, who, though but a 
 cub in size, was a lion in heart, elevated 
 his shillelah, and, at a blow, extended 
 our hero on the ground. 
 
 News was soon carried to the regi- 
 ment that their colonel was murdered 
 by the mob ! 
 
 On the passions of the soldiers, who 
 doated upon their commander, such a re- 
 port fell at once like a flash of lightning 
 on a magazine of gunpowder. 
 
 In a moment the whole regiment was 
 under arms and in rapid motion to- 
 wards the town, buming for vengeance. 
 
 During this time Washington had 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 been liberally plied with cold water, 
 acids, and volatiles; and, happily for 
 Mr. Payne and his party, was so far 
 recovered as to go out and meet his 
 enraged soldiers, who crowded round 
 him with faces of honest joy to see him 
 alive again. 
 
 After thanking them for such an evi- 
 dence of their attachment to him, he 
 assured them that he was not hurt in 
 the least, and begged them, by their 
 love of him and of their duty, to return 
 peaceably to their barracks. 
 
 As for himself, he went to his room, 
 generously chastising his passion, which 
 had just struck but a spark that had 
 like to have thrown the whole town in 
 a flame ; and feeling himself the aggres- 
 sor of Mr. Payne, he resolved to make 
 him the honorable reparation of asking 
 his pardon. 
 
 243 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 No sooner had he made this heroic 
 resolution, than recovering that deHcious 
 gaiety which ever accompanies good 
 purposes in a virtuous mind, he went 
 to a ball that night, and behaved as 
 pleasantly as though nothing had hap- 
 pened. 
 
 Early the next morning he wrote a 
 polite note of invitation to Mr. Payne 
 to meet him at the inn. 
 
 Payne took it for a challenge, and 
 repaired to the inn in full expectation 
 of smelling gunpowder. But what was 
 his surprise, on entering the chamber, 
 to see, in lieu of a brace of pistols, a 
 decanter of wine and a pair of glasses 
 on the table. 
 
 Washington rose to meet him, and 
 offering his hand, with a smile began : 
 
 " Mr. Payne, to err sometimes is na- 
 ture; to rectify error is always glory. 
 
Amencan Revolution. 
 
 I believe I was wrong in the affair of 
 yesterday. You have had, I think, 
 some satisfaction, and if you deem that 
 sufficient, there is my hand ; let us be 
 friends." 
 
 An act of such sublime virtue, pro- 
 duced its proper effect upon the mind 
 of Mr. Payne, who, from that moment, 
 became the most enthusiastic admirer 
 and friend of Washington ; and for his 
 sake, ready at any time to charge up to 
 a battery of two-and-forty pounders. 
 
 " Would our youth," says the narra- 
 tor, " but be persuaded to act in a style 
 so correct and heroical, our papers would 
 no longer shock us with accounts of 
 elegant young men murdering each 
 other on false principles of honor ; by 
 one desperate deed depriving them- 
 selves of all present pleasure, and of all 
 future hope." 
 
American Revolution, 
 
 " There was a man," says an eloquent 
 writer, "who stood on the loftiest seat 
 of power and did not fall. Hallowed 
 for all time be the anniversary of his 
 birth ! Our Washington was one of the 
 few great men in the world, in whom 
 the better sentiments were wrought into 
 established and governing principles." 
 
 This was emphatically his greatness. 
 His whole character was based upon 
 steadfast and inflexible principles. I 
 see this trait in all his writings. I see 
 everywhere, how all that there was of 
 feeling and enthusiasm in his mind was 
 tamed down to the sedateness and 
 strength of principle. I see in his 
 whole life the same concentration of 
 everything to the one point of duty. 
 
 Duty, principle, was the pole-star that 
 guided him through the troubled and 
 trying scenes of his life. 
 
 246 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 It is this which the sculptor has set 
 forth when he represented the victorious 
 chief with one hand surrendering to the 
 country the sheathed sword, the emblem 
 at once of command and of power, and 
 with the other pointing to heaven, in 
 token of humble and solemn gratitude, 
 and allegiance to the Power Supreme. 
 
 And this was, in the sphere in which 
 he moved, a greatness of which many 
 who are called great were utterly in- 
 capable. It was a greatness which no 
 man in similar circumstances ever ex- 
 hibited. A Csesar grasping at the scep- 
 tre of empire, an Alexander sweeping 
 the skirts of Asia with his hosts, a Na- 
 poleon or a Cromwell, vaulting, when 
 occasion served, to the seat of arbitrary 
 power — what were those examples of 
 miscalled greatness to the sublime and 
 Christian heroism of our Washington ? 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 This demands a resolution, an energy, 
 a nobleness, to be seen nowhere else. 
 To abjure all ease, all softness, all in- 
 dulgence, all ambition, as the solemn 
 behest of charity ; to bring to an end 
 this eternal conflict — the contradiction 
 between our ideal and our practice — to 
 pass through the great regeneration from 
 passive sentiment to resolved and active 
 principle. This, in every walk, indi- 
 vidual, social, poHtical, in every career 
 of communities or nations, is the only 
 path to unfading glory on earth, and 
 eternal bliss in heaven. 
 
American Resolution, 
 
 Remarks on the Death 
 
 General La Fayette 
 
 T^HE majority of men estimate the 
 superiority of their fellows solely 
 by the indications of power — of power 
 under whatever shape it may present 
 itself; no matter how unequal may be 
 its development, or how destructive its 
 display. What mind does not shrink 
 before the blazing intellect of Byron — 
 the iron ambition of Napoleon ? 
 
 But how few can appreciate the moral 
 grandeur, the wonderful assemblage, the 
 
 249 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 just balancing and developing of good 
 and great qualities, in the character of 
 Washington? And yet that character 
 was such a phenomenon as a singular de- 
 parture from the wonted exhibitions of 
 human nature, under its most glorious 
 aspects, as ever had a place upon the 
 annals of mankind. 
 
 And history will regard La Fayette 
 as one of those immortal benefactors of 
 our race who have stretched their arms 
 beyond one generation to embrace the 
 children of centuries in advance — a liv- 
 ing model of goodness in every age I 
 One of the few nobly great men who 
 live on the pages of the world's history, 
 to teach us, when despairing of the on- 
 ward destiny of our race, that there have 
 been some who have dared to be honest 
 under all circumstances, and who have 
 retained their benignity and love of 
 
 250 
 
American Revolution. 
 
 
 mankind, when philanthropy became a 
 
 
 reproach and a by-word ! 
 
 
 The honesty that rose to the dignity 
 
 
 of heroism, and the moderation which 
 
 
 in classic story would be dignified as 
 
 
 the loftiest philosophy, will leave un- 
 
 
 questioned the greatness of La Fayette. 
 
 
 THE END. 
 
 
 251