Noble Deeds Of American Women Part 23

Love, lend me wings to make this purpose swift, As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift.

SHAKSPEARE.

During the struggle for Independence, Captain Richardson, of Sumter district, South Carolina, was obliged to conceal himself for a while in the thickets of the Santee swamp. One day he ventured to visit his family--a perilous movement, for the British had offered rewards for his apprehension, and patrolling parties were almost constantly in search of him.--Before his visit was ended, a small band of soldiers presented themselves in front of the house. Just as they were entering, with a great deal of composure and presence of mind, Mrs. Richardson appeared at the door, and found so much to do there at the moment, as to find it inconvenient to make room for the uninvited guests to enter. She was so calm, and appeared so unconcerned, that they did not mistrust the cause of her wonderful diligence, till her husband had rushed out of the back door and safely reached the neighboring swamp.

STRIKING INSTANCE OF PATIENCE.

Patience and resignation are the pillars Of human peace on earth.

YOUNG.

The panegyric of Decker on patience is beautiful:

Patience, my lord! why 'tis the soul of peace: Of all the virtues 'tis the nearest kin to heaven; It makes men look like G.o.ds.

Not every Christian sufferer wears this garment in its celestial whiteness, as did the G.o.d-man, whom the same writer calls

"the best of men That e'er wore earth about him."

One of the most patient beings in modern times was Miss Sarah Parbeck, of Salem, Ma.s.sachusetts. A lady who visited her in 1845, gives the following account of the interview:

The door was opened by a very old lady, wrinkled and bowed down with age, who invited us to enter. The room was so dark, that, before my eyes were accommodated to the change, I could only see a figure dressed in white, sitting upon the bed and rocking to and fro. This motion was attended by a sound like the click of wooden machinery, which arose, as I afterwards discovered, from the bones, as they worked in their loosened sockets. As we approached, she extended her hand to my companion, and said, in a painful but affectionate voice, "Eliza, I am very glad to see thee;" and then asked my name and place of residence.

She had just given me her hand, when a spasm seized her, and it was twitched suddenly from my grasp. It flew some four or five times with the greatest violence against her face, and then, with a sound, which I can only compare to that made by a child who has been sobbing a long time, in catching its breath, she threw up both her arms, and with a deep guttural groan was flung back upon her pillow, with a force inconceivable to one who has not witnessed it. The instant she touched the bed, she uttered that piercing shriek again, and sprung back to her former position, rocking to and fro, with those quick, heart-rending groans which I had heard while standing at the door. It was several minutes before she could speak, and then there was none to answer her.

Both my companion and myself were choked with tears. Her poor mother went to the other side of the bed, and smoothed the coverlid, and re-arranged the pillows, looking sadly upon her poor child, writhing in torture which she could not alleviate. I became faint, and trembled with sudden weakness: a cold perspiration stood upon my face. The objects in the room began to swim about me, and I was obliged to take hold of the bedside for support. I have been in our largest hospitals, and have spent hours in going from room to room with the attending physician. I have witnessed there almost every form of human suffering, but I had never beheld any thing to be compared to that now before me. She afterwards told me, as if in apology for her screams, that when she was hurled back upon her pillow, both shoulders were dislocated, and as they sprung back into their sockets, the pain was far beyond endurance, and extorted from her these shrieks.

Her sentences were broken, uttered with much difficulty, and frequently interrupted by the terrible spasm I have described above. Yet this was her "quiet" state; this the time when she suffered _least_. Day after day, night after night, _fourteen weary years_ have dragged themselves along, whilst her poor body has been thus racked. No relief; no hope of relief, except that which death shall give. When I asked her if her affliction did not at times seem greater than she could bear, "O!

never," she replied. "I cannot thank G.o.d enough for having laid his heavy hand upon me. I was a thoughtless sinner, and had he not, in his mercy, afflicted me, I should probably have lost my immortal soul. I see only his kindness and love. The sweet communion I have with my Saviour more than compensates me for all I suffer. I am permitted to feel, in a measure, in my poor body, what he suffered to save me, and my soul can never grow weary in his praise." This last sentence, I must say, gave me an argument which put doubts of the verity and power of religion to flight more effectually than all the evidences which the wisdom of man has arrayed against the skeptic; and I could not but exclaim, "If this be delusion let me be deluded!"

She spoke in the most tender terms of her Saviour's love. Her conversation was in heaven, from whence also she looked for her Saviour, knowing that he should change her body of humiliation, and fashion it like unto his glorious body. I shall never forget the tones and language in which she entreated my sobbing companion to give that Saviour her heart. As she recovered from a spasm, I said to her, "do you not often desire to depart, and be with the Saviour you love so fervently?" She had hardly recovered her exhausted breath, but replied with great decision, "By the grace of G.o.d, _I have never had that wish_. Though death will be a welcome gift when my Father sees fit to bestow it upon me, yet, thanks to his supporting grace, I can wait his time without impatience. He sees that there is much dross to refine away, and why should I wish against his will?"

I remained by her side for more than an hour; such, however, were the attractions of her discourse, that I was unconscious of the time. I know not when I have been so drawn towards a fellow Christian, and never had I been led to such delightful contemplations of our Saviour's character--his faithfulness and love. I remarked to her, as I turned to go away, "G.o.d has made you a powerful preacher, here upon your bed of pain." "O," she replied, "if he will make me the instrument of saving but a single soul, I am willing to live and suffer here until my hair is gray with age." I noticed some bottles standing upon a small table, and asked her if she found any relief from opiates. "Through G.o.d's kindness," she answered, "I probably owe the preservation of my life thus far to an extract made from blackdrop." "Does it enable you to sleep?" "O no," she replied, "I have not known sleep for a very long time." "What!" I cried, "do you never rest?" A severe spasm here seized her, and it was some time before she could answer me; she had been attacked in this way some twelve or fifteen times whilst conversing with us, and frequently in the midst of a reply. When she recovered, she said the physicians thought she obtained rest in her "long spasm," which lasted for more than an hour. "During that time," she continued, "I am dead to every thing but a sense of the most extreme anguish. I see and hear nothing; I only feel as though I was being crushed in pieces by some immense weight." This was her rest! the rack! Yet, through all this suffering, the smiles of G.o.d penetrated to her heart. She sees him just, and acknowledges his love.

SUSANNAH ELLIOTT.

----The painted folds thus fly, And lift their emblems, printed high On morning mist and sunset sky.

HOLMES.

She showed that her soft s.e.x contains strong mind.

SIR W. DAVENANT.

Susannah Smith, afterwards the wife of Colonel Barnard Elliott, was a native of South Carolina. Ramsay, in his history of that state, and other authors, give a glowing account of her presentation of a pair of colors to the second South Carolina regiment of infantry, commanded by Col. Moultrie. The ceremony took place on the twenty-eighth of June, '76, two or three days after the attack on Fort Moultrie, Sullivan's island. The colors, which were embroidered by her own hand, were presented in these words: "Your gallant behavior in defence of liberty and your country, ent.i.tles you to the highest honors: accept these two standards as a reward justly due to your regiment; and I make not the least doubt, under Heaven's protection, you will stand by them as long as they can wave in the air of liberty."

Mrs. Elliott had a plantation called "The Hut," and while there she once had three American gentlemen as guests. These she was obliged to hurry into a closet one day, on the sudden approach of the enemy; and, opening a secret door, she showed them a narrow apartment back of the chimney, which she had contrived expressly for a hiding place. Two of the guests entered, and were saved, while the third, attempting to flee on horse-back, was overtaken and slain.

After the British had thoroughly, though ineffectually, searched the house, and failed, by many threats, to persuade the mistress to disclose the hiding place of the others, they demanded her silver. Pointing to some mounds of earth near by, as they made the demand, they asked if the plate was not buried there.[58] She told them, in reply, that those mounds were the graves of British soldiers who had died under her roof.

The officers did not believe her, and made two of the soldiers dig till they came to one of the coffins, which was opened and which verified her a.s.sertion. The enemy then departed, when the two guests came forth, filled with grat.i.tude to their kind and ingenious hostess for the free use of this singular apartment.

[58] The silver was buried in a trunk, and remained in a marshy bed till the close of the war. When disinterred, it had turned black.

ANECDOTES OF ANNA ELLIOTT.

"The spark of n.o.ble courage now awake, And strive your excellent self to excel."

The wife of Charles Elliott, of Charleston, South Carolina, was one of those dames of Seventy-six who "appeared to concentrate every thought and every hour of existence to the interests of America." She cheered the prisoner, befriended the unjustly persecuted, comforted the sick, fed the hungry, and was humane alike to enemies and friends. Major Garden has paid her the following compliment: "I do not know an officer who did not owe to her some essential increase of comfort."

A British officer, whose cruel and persecuting disposition was well known to Mrs. Elliott, was walking with her in a flower garden one day, when, pointing to the chamomile he asked, "What is this, madam?" She at once replied, "The rebel flower." "And why," asked he, "is it called the rebel flower?" "Because," answered she, "it always flourishes most when trampled upon."

At another time, while an officer of the royal army was in her house at Charleston, a French officer, belonging to Pulaski's legion, pa.s.sed; and pointing to him, he vociferated, "There, Mrs. Elliott, is one of your ill.u.s.trious allies. What a pity the hero is minus his _sword_." The spirit of the woman was roused, and she replied, "Had two thousand such men been here to aid in the defence of our city, I should not at this moment, sir, have been subjected to the insolence of your observation."

When her father, the brave and zealous patriot, Thomas Ferguson, was put on board a transport ship at Charleston, preparatory to exile, she hastened from the country, where she chanced to be, and begged permission to receive his parting blessing. Her request being granted, she went on board the ship. Just as she entered the cabin, she was overcome with grief, and fainted. When recovered, she addressed her father as follows: "Let not oppression shake your fort.i.tude, nor the hope of gentler treatment cause you for a moment to swerve from strict duty. Better times are in store for us: the bravery of the Americans, and the friendly aid of France, will achieve the deliverance of our country from oppression. We shall meet again, my father, and meet with joy."[59]

[59] A similar spirit was exhibited by the wife of Isaac Holmes, one of the number who were sent into exile at St. Augustine. Just as the guard were separating him from his family, she said to him, "Waver not in your principles, but be true to your country. Have no fears for your family; G.o.d is good, and will provide for them."

PATRIOTIC STRATAGEM.

What bosom beats not in its country's cause?

POPE.

While the Legislature of Virginia was in session at Charlottesville, Colonel Tarleton, with his famous band of cavalry, made a secret march to that place, in order to capture the Governor and some public stores there collected. Several of the a.s.sembly-men were at the house of Colonel John Walker, a dozen miles distant, and directly on Tarleton's route. Colonel Walker was absent on duty in the lower part of the state.

Tarleton came suddenly up to the door, and succeeded in making one or two prisoners, the other members fleeing to town. He then ordered breakfast for himself and his whole corps, which the shrewd lady of the house prepared in the slowest manner possible. This she did in order that the members who had fled to the capital, might attend to the removal or concealment of the stores, in the preservation of which she was deeply interested. Her stratagem succeeded; and, after tarrying a day or two at Charlottesville, Tarleton went empty away.

INFLUENCE OF A FAITHFUL TEACHER.

Spread out earth's holiest records here.

SPRAGUE.