Noble Deeds Of American Women Part 19

MRS. SPALDING OF GEORGIA.

Through trials hard as these, how oft are seen The tender s.e.x, in fort.i.tude serene.

ANN SEWARD.

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

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

The part she bore in the dangers of the Revolution and the anxieties to which she was necessarily subjected, so impaired her health that "many years afterwards it was deemed necessary that she should try the climate of Europe. In January, 1800, she, with her son and his wife, left Savannah in a British ship of twenty guns, with fifty men, built in all points to resemble a sloop of war, without the appearance of a cargo.

When they had been out about fifteen days, the captain sent one morning at daylight, to request the presence of two of his gentlemen pa.s.sengers on deck. A large ship, painted black and showing twelve guns on a side, was seen to windward, running across their course. She was obviously a French privateer. The captain announced that there was no hope of out-sailing her, should their course be altered; nor would there be hope in a conflict, as those ships usually carried one hundred and fifty men.

Yet he judged that if no effort were made to shun the privateer, the appearance of his ship might deter from an attack. The gentlemen were of the same opinion. Mr. Spalding, heart-sick at thought of the perilous situation of his wife and mother, and unwilling to trust himself with an interview till the crisis was over, requested the captain to go below and make what preparation he could for their security. After a few minutes' absence the captain returned to describe a most touching scene.

Mrs. Spalding had placed her daughter-in-law and the other inmates of the cabin for safety in the two state-rooms, filling the berths with the cots and bedding from the outer cabin. She had then taken her station beside the scuttle, which led from the outer cabin to the magazine, with two buckets of water. Having noticed that the two cabin boys were heedless, she had determined herself to keep watch over the magazine.

She did so till the danger was past. The captain took in his light sails, hoisted his boarding nettings, opened his ports, and stood on upon his course. The privateer waited till the ship was within a mile, then fired a gun to windward, and stood on her way. This ruse preserved the ship."[51]

[51] Mrs. Ellet.

COURAGEOUS ACT OF MRS. DILLARD.

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

SARA J. CLARKE.

The day before the battle at the Green Spring, in the Spartanburg district, South Carolina, Colonel Clarke, of the Georgia volunteers, with about two hundred men, stopped at the house of Captain Dillard and were cordially welcomed to a good supply of refreshments. In the evening of the same day, Colonel Ferguson and another officer named Dunlap, with a party of tories, arrived at the same house and inquired of the mistress, if Colonel Clarke had been there, to which question she gave a direct and honest answer. He then inquired in regard to the time of Clarke's departure and the number of his men. She could not guess their number, but said they had been gone a long time. She was then ordered to get supper, which she did, though in a less hospitable spirit than she had prepared the previous meal. While at work, she overheard some of the conversation of the officers, by which she learned that they were bent on surprising Colonel Clarke, and would start for that purpose when supper was dispatched. As soon as the food was on the table, Mrs.

Dillard hurried out at the back door, bridled a horse that stood in the stable, and mounting without saddle, rode till nearly daylight before reaching the Green Spring where Clarke had encamped, and where he was to be attacked by Ferguson, at the break of day or sooner, as she had learned before starting.

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

PHOEBE PHILLIPS.

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

DRYDEN.

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

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

Affectionate, kind, generous, watchful, as a christian guardian; she was unbending, self-sacrificing and "zealous, yet modest," as a patriot.

During the seven years' struggle for freedom, she frequently sat up till midnight or past, preparing bandages and sc.r.a.ping lint for the hospitals and making garments for the ragged soldiers.

An offender of justice was once pa.s.sing her house on his way to the whipping-post, when a boy, who observed him from her window, could not withhold a tear. He tried to conceal his emotion, but Mrs. Phillips saw the pearl drop of pity, and while a kindred drop fell from her own eyes, she said to him, with much emphasis and as though laying down some golden maxim--"When you become a law maker, examine the subject of corporeal punishment, and see if it is not unnatural, vindictive and productive of much evil." She was very discriminating, and could detect talent as well as tears; and addressed the lad with a premonition that he was destined to become a legislator--which was indeed the case.

Elected to the a.s.sembly of the state, with the sacred command of his early and revered mentor impressed on his memory, he early called the attention of that body to the subject of corporeal punishment; had the statute book revised and the odious law, save in capital offences, expunged, and the pleasure of announcing the fact to the original suggestor of the movement.

WORTHY EXAMPLE OF A POOR WIDOW.

Howe'er it be, it seems to me 'Tis only n.o.ble to be good; Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.

TENNYSON.

The following article was communicated to the Christian Watchman and Reflector, of Boston, for January thirtieth, 1851. The facts are given without coloring or embellishment. The subject of the article has gone to the grave, but the influence of her exemplary life has not ceased to be felt. Her

"Speaking dust Has more of life than half its breathing moulds."

Some twenty years since, the writer became pastor of a church in the town of B. A few weeks after my settlement, I called at the humble dwelling of a poor widow, with whom I had already become somewhat acquainted. Having been apprised of the high estimation in which she was held by the church of which she was a member, for her cheerful and consistent piety, an interesting and profitable interview was antic.i.p.ated. I had been seated but a few moments when she placed in my hand one dollar, and proceeded, by way of explanation, to make the following statements, which I give as nearly as possible in her own language:

"Before you came among us, our church and people where in a very depressed and disheartened condition. For two or three Sabbaths we had no religious services during the day. How sad to be as sheep without a shepherd, and to have the house of G.o.d closed on his holy day! If the Lord would only send us a pastor, I felt willing to do any thing in my power to aid in sustaining him. But then the thought occurred to me, What can _you_ do, a poor widow, with four small children to support, and your house rent to pay? It is quite as much as you can do to meet necessary expenses. For a moment I was sad; but my mind still dwelt upon the subject, until finally this plan occurred to me: 'G.o.d has blessed you with excellent health, and you can sit up and work between the hours of nine and eleven or twelve o'clock at night; and what you thus earn you can give for that object.' I was at once relieved, and resolved before the Lord that, if he would send us a pastor, I would immediately commence my labors, and do what I could to aid in sustaining and encouraging him. I felt that now I could pray consistently, as I was willing to do my duty. With a faith and fervor to which I had before been a stranger, I besought the Lord speedily to favor us with an under-shepherd; and soon you came here to preach for us. I believed G.o.d sent you; and although at first you had no idea of remaining, I never doubted that you would become our pastor. As soon as you had accepted the call of the church, I began to work in accordance with my vow, and that dollar is the result of my earning, the last four weeks. And O, you would rejoice with me, could you know how much I have enjoyed these silent hours of night, when my children around me are wrapt in slumber, and all is as the stillness of the grave. The Lord has been with me continually, and I have had uninterrupted communion with him. When G.o.d had given us a pastor, I felt I must pray for a blessing to attend his labors among us; and, often have I been so impressed with the importance of a revival of religion, and the conversion of my children, and the people of this place, that I have been obliged to leave my work, and kneel down before my Maker, and earnestly plead with him that his Spirit may accomplish this work. Even after I had retired to rest, I have sometimes been obliged to arise and pray that he would save the souls of this people. And, blessed be his holy name, he has listened to prayer for this object also. When I heard of the numbers who attended the religious inquiry meeting, and the hopeful conversion of some to G.o.d, I felt I could say, 'This is the Lord, I have waited for him;' and I believe he will do greater things than these in our midst. Thus has G.o.d blessed one of the most unworthy of all his creatures; and I have often been led to sing, while I have been laboring here, lowly as is my condition,

'I would not change my blest estate, With all that earth calls rich or great; And, while my faith can keep her hold, I envy not the sinner's gold.'"

My attention had been absorbed with this interesting and affecting narrative; nor had I any inclination to interrupt it with remarks of my own. I now thought I could read the secret of the apparent success which had attended my labors in so short a time. As soon as I could recover from my emotions, I said to her, I am grateful for your prayers and this proffered donation; but, as my parish affords me a competent support, I can on no account feel at liberty to appropriate to my own private use the money thus earned. No; you shall have the additional satisfaction, while you are toiling at these unseasonable hours of night, of knowing that what you place in my hands shall be sacredly devoted to the cause of Christian benevolence, which I am sure you ardently love. With this she expressed herself satisfied; and continued her toils and prayers.

It may be asked, What was the result? The answer is recorded with pleasure, and, I trust, with grat.i.tude to G.o.d. Besides punctually attending all the meetings of the church, and laboring much in private for the eternal welfare of souls; besides supporting her family with more ease than formerly, as she stated to her pastor, at the close of the first year, and paying her a.s.sessments in several charitable societies to which she belonged, and also contributing something whenever a public collection was taken for benevolent objects; in addition to all this, she had placed in my hands ten dollars and a half, which was appropriated as stated above. Her donations for objects of religious charity must have amounted to at least _twelve dollars_ during that year, which, it is presumed, exceeded the amount given for similar objects by any other member of the church, although quite a number possessed a comfortable share of wealth. It may be thought that she was engaged in some business which yielded a handsome profit to reward her toils. But no; her business was shoe-binding, not then by any means very profitable. And who, with her disposition and spirit, could not do something to aid the cause of G.o.d? But what she earned and gave was not all. Her prayers, it is believed, had secured for the church a pastor, and been the means, with others, of the commencement of a revival of religion, which continued to prevail to a greater or less extent, for three successive years, during which time a large number were hopefully converted and added to the church: and among them several of her older children, who were away from home.

ELIZABETH ESTAUGH.

A perfect woman, n.o.bly planned, To warn, to comfort and command; And yet a spirit still, and bright With something of an angel light.

WORDSWORTH.

Elizabeth Haddon was the oldest daughter of John Haddon, a well educated and wealthy, yet humble, Quaker, of London. She had two sisters, both of whom, with herself, received the highest finish of a practical education. Elizabeth possessed uncommon strength of mind, earnestness, energy and originality of character, and a heart overflowing with the kindest and warmest feelings. A single anecdote of her childhood, told by Mrs. Child, will ill.u.s.trate the n.o.bleness of nature which characterized her life:

"At one time, she asked to have a large cake baked, because she wanted to invite some little girls. All her small funds were expended for oranges and candy on this occasion. When the time arrived, her father and mother were much surprised to see her lead in six little ragged beggars. They were, however, too sincerely humble and religious to _express_ any surprise. They treated the forlorn little ones very tenderly, and freely granted their daughter's request to give them some of her books and playthings at parting. When they had gone, the good mother quietly said, 'Elizabeth, why didst thou invite strangers, instead of thy schoolmates?' There was a heavenly expression in her eye, as she looked up earnestly, and answered, 'Mother, I wanted to invite _them_, they looked _so_ poor.'"

When eleven years of age, she accompanied her parents to the Yearly Meeting of the Friends, where she heard, among other preachers, a very young man named John Estaugh, with whose manner of presenting divine truth she was particularly pleased. Many of his words were treasured in her memory. At the age of seventeen she made a profession of religion, uniting herself with the Quakers.

During her early youth, William Penn visited the house of her father, and greatly amused her by describing his adventures with the Indians.

From that time she became interested in the emigrant Quakers, and early began to talk of coming to America. Her father at length purchased a tract of land in New Jersey, with the view of emigrating, but his affairs took a new turn, and he made up his mind to remain in his native land. This decision disappointed Elizabeth. She had cherished the conviction that it was her duty to come to this country; and when, at length, her father, who was unwilling that any of his property should lie unimproved, offered the tract of land in New Jersey to any relative who would settle upon it, she promptly agreed to accept of the proffered estate. Willing that their child should follow in the path of duty, at the end of three months, and after much prayer, the parents consented to let Elizabeth join "the Lord's people in the New World."

Accordingly, early in the spring of 1700, writes Mrs. Child, in whose sweet language, slightly condensed, the rest of the narrative is told, arrangements were made for her departure, and all things were provided that the abundance of wealth, or the ingenuity of affection, could devise.

A poor widow of good sense and discretion accompanied her, as friend and housekeeper, and two trusty men servants, members of the Society of Friends. Among the many singular manifestations of strong faith and religious zeal, connected with the settlement of this country, few are more remarkable than the voluntary separation of this girl of eighteen years old from a wealthy home and all the pleasant a.s.sociations of childhood, to go to a distant and thinly inhabited country, to fulfill what she considered a religious duty. And the humble, self-sacrificing faith of the parents, in giving up their child, with such reverend tenderness for the promptings of her own conscience, has in it something sublimely beautiful, if we look at it in its own pure light. The parting took place with more love than words can express, and yet without a tear on either side. Even during the long and tedious voyage, Elizabeth never wept. She preserved a martyr-like cheerfulness and serenity to the end.