Part 7

"It is not a great while since I wrote my dear friend on my disappointment in not paying her a visit. Now methinks I hear her wondering how it is with her Cambridge friends, who are at this time delayed with British and Hessian--what shall I call them? who are prancing and patrolling in every corner of the town, ornamented with their glittering side-arms--weapons of destruction. A short detail of our situation may perhaps amuse you. You will be able to form a judgment of our unhappy circumstances. Last Thursday, which was a very stormy day, a large number of British troops came softly through the town _via_ Watertown to Prospect Hill. On Friday we heard the Hessians were to make a procession in the same route. We thought we should have nothing to do but view them as they passed. To be sure the sight was truly astonishing. I never had the least idea that the creation produced such a sordid set of creatures in human figure--poor, dirty, emaciated men. Great numbers of women, who seemed to be the beasts of burden, having bushel-baskets on their backs, by which they were bent double. The contents seemed to be pots and kettles, various sorts of furniture, children peeping through gridirons and other utensils--some very young infants, who were born on the road--the women barefoot, clothed in dirty rags. Such effluvia filled the air while they were passing, that had they not been smoking all the time, I should have been apprehensive of being contaminated. After a noble-looking advanced-guard, General Burgoyne headed this terrible group on horseback. The other generals also clothed in blue cloaks--Hessians, Waldeckers, Anspackers, Bruns-wickers, etc., etc., followed on. The Hessian generals gave us a polite bow as they passed. Not so the British. Their baggage-wagons [were] drawn by poor, half-starved horses. But to bring up the rear, another fine, noble-looking guard of American brawny victorious yeomanry, who assisted in bringing these sons of slavery to terms. Some of our wagons drawn by fat oxen, driven by joyous-looking Yankees, closed the cavalcade. The generals and other officers, went to Bradish's, where they quarter at present. The privates trudged through thick and thin to the hills, where we thought they were to be confined. But what was our surprise, when in the morning we beheld an inundation of those disagreeable objects filling our streets? How mortifying is it!--they in a manner demanding our houses and colleges for their genteel accommodation. Did the brave General Gates ever mean this? Did our legislature ever intend the military should prevail above the civil? Is there not a degree of unkindness in loading poor Cambridge, almost ruined before this great army seemed to be let loose upon us! What will be the consequence, time will discover. Some polite ones say we ought not to look on them as prisoners--that they are persons of distinguished rank. Perhaps, too, we must not view them in the light of enemies. I fear this distinction will be soon lost. Surprising that our general, or any of our colonels, should insist on the first university in America being disbanded for their more genteel accommodation; and we, poor oppressed people, seek an asylum in the woods against a piercing winter! Where is the stern virtue of a --------, who opposed such infractions, in former days? Who is there to plead our cause? Pity--pity it is our Assembly had not settled these matters before their adjournment. It will be vastly more difficult to abridge them after such an unbounded license. Perhaps you may see some of them at Plymouth. For my part, I think insults, famine, and a train of evils present themselves to view. General Burgoyne dined on Saturday in Boston with General ----------. He rode through the town properly attended, down Court street and through the main street; and on his return walked on foot to Charlestown Ferry, followed by a great number of spectators as ever attended a Pope; and generously observed to an officer with him, the decent and modest behavior of the inhabitants as he passed; saying, if he had been conducting prisoners through the city of London, not all the Guards of Majesty could have prevented insults. He likewise acknowledges Lincoln and Arnold to be great generals. It is said we shall have not less than seven thousand persons to feed in Cambridge and its environs, more than its inhabitants. Two hundred and fifty cords of wood will not serve them a week. Think then how we must be distressed. Wood has risen to L5 10s. per cord, and but a little to be purchased. I never thought I could lie down to sleep surrounded by these enemies; but we strangely become inured to those things which appear difficult when distant."

"If you like anecdotes, I will give you one more: "When General Phillips was travelling back of Albany, where it is very rocky and barren, he expressed his astonishment that they should ever cross; the Atlantic, and go through such difficulty to conquer so unfavorable a country, which would not be worth keeping when conquered. When they came upon the fertile banks of Connecticut River, General Whipple said to him, 'This is the country which we are fighting for.' 'Ah,' replied the General, 'this is a country worth a ten years' war.'"

Her indignation does not seem to have subsided at once. In February she says:

"Methinks I hear Mrs. Warren wondering how they do at head-quarters at Cambridge. Perhaps her wonder may increase when I tell her the British officers live in the most luxurious manner possible, rioting on the fat of the land, and talking at large with the self-importance of lords of the soil."

To return to Mrs. Warren. From her retirement, in which she was constantly visited by her friends, she continued to watch the progress of the struggle, and to treasure her observations for the historical work she had in contemplation. Early in 1777 she writes to her friend, Mrs. Macaulay:

"The approaching spring appears big with the fate of empires, and the wheels of revolution move in swift progression. They may smite the diadem from the brow, and shake some tyrant from his throne before he is aware. The flatterers of majesty may be more attended to than the prophetic voice that augurs evil; yet when the _mene tekel_ is inscribed on the walls of the palace, it cannot be blotted out by the hand of the prince who humbles not himself, though he sees the works that have been done in the days of his fathers."

After the close of the war, Mrs. Macaulay visited this country, and met with a reception due to the celebrity her works had gained. Her principles endeared her to the Americans, who were willing to bestow lasting honor on such as had distinguished themselves by the sword or the pen in defence of their opinions. Mrs. Warren says of her, writing to Mr. Adams, "She is a lady of most extraordinary talents, of commanding genius, and brilliancy of thought. This, in my opinion, often outruns her capacity of expression."

Mrs. Warren's correspondence with Mr. Adams continued while he remained abroad. From time to time she demands of him an account of the busy and important scenes in which he is engaged; and when she fails to receive intelligence, playfully accuses the watery nymphs of Neptune's court of having robbed the woodland dames of America. This was in allusion to the practice during the war, of sinking all packages in case of capture. "Otherwise," she says, "a folio from the court of France would, ere this, have reached Braintree, and one small octavo at least have found its way to Plymouth." The statesman was under an engagement to make observations for the use of more than one woman on the western side of the Atlantic. In a letter to him, dated October, 1778, she thus mentions Franklin:

"Are you, sir, as much in the good graces of the Parisian ladies, as your venerable colleague, Dr. F--------? We often hear he is not more an adept in politics than a favorite of the ladies. He has too many compliments of gratulation and esteem from each quarter of the globe, to make it of any consequence whether I offer my little tribute of respect or not. Yet I would tell him as a friend to mankind, as a daughter of America, and a lover of every exalted character, that no one more sincerely wishes the continuance of his health and usefulness; and so disinterested is my regard, that I do not wish him to leave the soft caresses of the court of France; for his unpolished countrywomen will be more apt to gaze at and admire the virtues of the philosopher, than to embrace the patriotic sage."

A soul like Mrs. Warren's must have been continually saddened by grief and pity, in the view not only of the miseries of war, but the depravity prevalent as one of its consequences. Yet while she mourned the crimes and follies of many to whom her country looked for succor, she followed with ardent admiration the career of those incorruptible patriots who kept their faith unshaken by misfortune or temptation. Her anxieties and hopes were freely communicated to her friends, whose answers show the intense interest felt in every movement. Miss Catharine Livingston, the sister of Mrs. Montgomery, writes in April, 1781:

"The news from the southward is by no means so favorable as the sanguine among us expected. Arnold, it is feared, will get off safely as well as Cornwallis. I think the British understand retreat better than we do pursuit. It has been an observation, this war, whenever the expectations of the multitude were raised to almost a certainty of success, the event has turned directly opposite to their views. This I believe we may extend to private, as well as public concerns."

A letter from Mrs. Montgomery, the year previous, so agreeably describes Mrs. Jay, that an extract must be given:

"You speak of my dear friend Mrs. Jay. We have heard from her at Hispaniola, where she was obliged to put in after the storm, in which she had like to have been taken. When she arrives at Paris, I expect to hear from her; if in the descriptive way, it shall be entirely at your service. She is one of the most worthy women I know--has a great fund of knowledge, and makes use of most charming language; added to this she is very handsome, which will secure her a welcome with the unthinking, whilst her understanding will gain her the hearts of the most worthy. Her manners will do honor to our countrywomen; and I really believe will please even at the splendid court of Madrid.

"The starting tear, and the heaving sigh, interrupt my thread. Strange that self will for ever discover itself! I find I am to learn much before I become a philosopher; but in every instance of my life I hope you, my dear madam, will ever find me your most sincere friend and humble servant,

"J. Montgomery."

Mrs. Warren wrote many letters to her sons at college, containing sound advice, of which she preserved copies, labelling the packages for the use of her grandchildren. Space can be afforded for but a single passage from one of these parental missives: "I am persuaded you will never counteract those native dictates that lead you to struggle for distinction by cherishing that ambition that dignifies the rational creature. May you extend your views beyond the narrow limits of time, that you may rank not only with those models of virtue and heroism that have been so much your admiration from your earliest youth, but may be able to stand with confidence before Him who discriminates character not according to the weak decisions of man, but by the unerring scale of eternal truth."

Rochefoucault, in his Travels in the United States, speaks of Mrs. Warren's extensive and varied reading. She was then seventy; and he says, "truly interesting; for, lively in conversation, she has lost neither the activity of her mind, nor the graces of her person." Her history of the Revolution was written, but not published till some years afterwards. This work exhibits her as a writer in advance of the age. Its sound judgment and careful research, with its clear and vigorous style, give it a high and lasting value. Her portraiture of Mr. Adams gave offence to the great statesman, which for a time threatened to interrupt the affectionate relations between the two families. But after a sharp correspondent, it was amicably settled; and as a token of reconciliation, Mrs. Adams sent her friend a ring containing her own and her husband's hair. This is now in the possession of one of Mrs. Warren's descendants.

For many years before her death Mrs. Warren was afflicted with the failure of her sight; but she submitted to the trial with pious resignation, continuing to receive with cheerfulness the company that frequented her house, and to correspond with her friends by means of a secretary. A passage from a letter to one of her sons, written in 1799, amidst the convulsions that agitated Europe, may serve to show that she still occasionally indulged in the elaborate style so much in vogue:

"The, _ices of the Poles_ seem to be dissolved to swell the tide of popularity on which swim the idols of the day; but when they have had their day, the tide will retire to its level, and perhaps leave the floating lumber on the strand with other perishable articles, not thought worth the hazard of attempting their recovery."

Towards the close of her protracted life, her influence did not diminish; for her mental superiority was still unimpaired and acknowledged. Seldom has one woman in any age, acquired such an ascendency over the strongest, by the mere force of a powerful intellect. She is said to have supplied political parties with their arguments; and she was the first of her sex in America who taught the reading world in matters of state policy and history.

By her own relatives and connections she was reverenced and beloved in a degree that affords the best testimony to her elevated character, and the faithfulness with which she had discharged her duty towards them. The influence commanded by her talents was enhanced by her virtues, and by the deep religious feeling which governed her throughout life. Her descendants are still taught to cherish her memory with reverent affection.

The portrait from which the engraving is taken, was painted by Copley. A lady who visited Mrs. Warren in 1807, describes her as at that time erect in person, and in conversation full of intelligence and eloquence. Her dress was a steel-colored silk gown, with short sleeves and very long waist; the black silk skirt being covered in front with a white lawn apron. She wore a lawn mob-cap, and gloves covering the arm to the elbows, cut off at the fingers.

In her last illness, her constant fear was that she might lose her mental faculties as death approached. She prayed to be spared this; and her prayer was granted. With an expression of thankfulness upon her lips--that reason was clear, and the vision of her spirit unclouded--she passed to the rest that awaits the faithful Christian, October 19th, 1814, in the eighty-seventh year of her age.

VI. LUCY KNOX.

|When Major Henry Knox, then a resident of Boston, was parading the company to the command of which he had just been elected, he was seen, among many who admired the young officer, by Miss Lucy Flucker, the daughter of the Secretary of the Province of Massachusetts. His noble form and martial appearance naturally attracted the attention of the young lady; and on a personal acquaintance, a mutual sentiment of regard grew up and ripened into love. Interruption to its course was threatened by the growing troubles of the times. Thomas Flucker, the father of Lucy, who had long held office under the British government, adhered to the royal side amidst popular discontent. The maiden had adopted her lover's views and feelings. In the gathering storm, the time came when her decision was to be made. It was made with a true woman's faith and self-devotion; and she pledged herself to the fortunes of a soldier's wife. The separation from her family that became necessary, was a painful trial, but submitted to with firmness and resolution. Mr. Flucker and his family removed from the country soon after the battle of Lexington; and Mrs. Knox, with her husband, joined the American army at Cambridge. From this time she adhered to her determination to encounter the perils and hardships incident to a military life. Neither her courage nor her powers of endurance failed. When Boston was occupied by the British, she escaped with her husband; and in their precipitate retreat, it is said that she concealed the sword he wore through the war, by having it quilted within the lining of her cloak.

In various journals we find the presence of Mrs. Knox noticed in camp. Chastellux describes the hut on a small farm where she lived with her children, a short distance from head-quarters at Verplanck's Point.

Whenever her health permitted, she followed the army: and it is represented that her presence and cheerful manners did much to diffuse contentment and enliven dreary scenes. The soldiers could not murmur at privations which she endured without complaint. Sad it is, that no record remains of the ministrations of women in thus softening war's grim features. The good they did, however, was at the time acknowledged with respectful gratitude. There is reason to believe that General Knox often deferred to his wife's judgment, regarding her as a superior being; and it is said that her influence and superiority were owned by Washington himself. Her mind was undoubtedly of a high order, and her character a remarkable one. She appears to have possessed an ascendancy over all with whom she associated. After the close of the struggle, while General Knox held the office of Secretary of War, his wife's position was next to that of Mrs. Washington, whom she advised in matters of ceremony. Mrs. Knox had a taste for the management and show of public life, and was a leader of the ton in the social circles at the seat of government. When the General retired from the political arena, she accompanied him to his--or rather her estates in Maine. She had inherited a share of the domain on Penobscot River and Bay which belonged to her mother's father, General Waldo, the proprietor of the Waldo patent in Maine. The property had been confirmed by government to her and General Knox after the peace.

Their residence was at Thomaston, in a splendid mansion at the head of St. George's River, furnished with taste and elegance. Here the soldier enjoyed the honors he had won, and spent his time in the indulgence of his literary tastes, and the companionship of his friends. His hospitality was unbounded, and numerous visitors frequented his house. *

* Sullivan, in his "Familiar Letters on Public Characters," speaks of the hospitality of Knox at his superb mansion. It was not unusual for him in summer, when visited by great numbers of his friends, to kill an ox and twenty sheep every Monday morning, and to have a hundred beds made up daily in the house. He kept for his own use and that of his friends, twenty saddle horses and several pairs of carriage horses in his stables. This expensive style of living encroached greatly on his means.

The influence of "Madam Knox," as she was called, on all within the circle of her acquaintance, was decided; and she shared the lot of all remarkable persons, in having enemies as well as friends. Tradition speaks much of her; but little of what is said is sufficiently well authenticated to relate. With rare powers of conversation, a memory stored with interesting incidents, and much knowledge of the world, she was, when she pleased, one of the most charming and entertaining of women; and her society was much sought by men of taste and talent, while the unreserved expression of her opinions to those with whom she conversed, sometimes displeased persons who could not appreciate the independence of an original and intelligent mind. The military life of which she had partaken, and her association with those in command, with her engrossing interest in political measures, perhaps imparted a tone to her character and deportment; none, it is said, could forget her superiority of intellect, though in her the loftier qualities of woman's nature were softened by the generous feelings that impel to the kindly courtesies and charities of life. Having accompanied her husband through the vicissitudes of an eight years' war--and shared with him the splendors of exalted public station--she was content to retire with him to the privacy of domestic life, and devote her talents to the education of her children. Her taste created the elegance that surrounded the General's home, and diffused a beneficial influence throughout the section of country in which they resided. With her strong mind and remarkable traits of character, it is not singular that the popular remembrance of her should be abiding, as of one who had filled more than the ordinary sphere of a woman. She had ten children, only three of whom lived beyond infancy. She lived at her place after the death of General Knox, continuing active in her charities, and in the exercise of hospitality, during her almost eighteen years of widowhood. She died in 1824.

The manuscript correspondence of General Gates, now in the library of the New York Historical Society, contains many letters addressed to Mrs. Gates, and some written by her. Although these give no detail of her personal history, they throw light upon some points in her character, showing that she was an efficient helpmate as well as an intelligent companion to her husband in all affairs that came properly under her supervision. She was undoubtedly well skilled in the art of managing the concerns of the household and farm, and acquainted with their details. Her interest in public affairs is however, not the less manifest. Colonel Wilkinson announces to her the news of the victory at Saratoga; and continual allusions in the correspondence show that she closely observed the progress of events. Her letter to the Count D'Estaing in acknowledgment of the compliments paid her husband, may serve to show that she could write both with ease and grace.

Danbury, Oct., 1778. Sir:

The terms in which your Excellency has expressed your esteem for General Gates are so personally obliging, that I am afraid I am rather more grieved than pure patriotism permits, that I cannot at this time send you his portrait. It is in Virginia.

If I can have it in time before you leave these parts, I need not assure you, Sir, that my partiality to the General will be such powerful inducement to my transmitting it to the painter you have directed to copy it, that you may depend on the gratification of what your kindness to the General has made you wish for.

With all the gratitude which the honor you feel inclined to confer on General Gates entitles you to from his family, and with the respect your personal merit commands from all, I have the honor to be, Sir, your Excellency's most humble and most obedient servant. *

* From the original MS.