Noble Deeds of American Women. Various
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"An undergoing spirit, to bear up
Against whate'er ensued."
During the struggle of our Revolution, the privations sustained, and the efforts made by women, were neither few nor of short duration. Many of them are delineated in the present volume, and in other interesting ones of the same class, which have found favor with the public.
Yet innumerable instances of faithful toil, and patient endurance, must have been covered with oblivion. In how many a lone home, whence the father was long sundered by a soldier's destiny, did the Mother labor to perform to their little ones both his duties and her own, having no witness of the extent of her heavy burdens, and sleepless anxieties, save the Hearer of Prayer.
A good and hoary headed man, who had passed the limits of fourscore, once said to me, "my father was in the army during the whole eight years of the Revolutionary war, at first as a common soldier, afterwards as an officer. My mother had the sole charge of us, four little ones. Our house was a poor one, and far from neighbors. I have a keen remembrance of the terrible cold of some of these winters. The snow lay so deep and long, that it was difficult to cut or draw fuel from the woods, and to get our corn to mill, when we had any. My mother was the possessor of a coffee mill. In that she ground wheat, and made coarse bread, which we ate, and were thankful. It was not always that we could be allowed as much, even of this, as our keen appetites craved. Many is the time that we have gone to bed, with only a drink of water for our supper, in which a little molasses had been mingled. We patiently received it, for we knew our mother did as well for us as she could, and hoped to have something better in the morning. She was never heard to repine; and young as we were, we tried to make her loving spirit and heavenly trust, our example.
"When my father was permitted to come home, his stay was short, and he had not much to leave us, for the pay of those who achieved our liberties was slight, and irregularly rendered. Yet when he went, my mother ever bade him farewell with a cheerful face, and not to be anxious about his children, for she would watch over them night and day, and God would take care of the families of those who went forth to defend the righteous cause of their country. Sometimes we wondered that she did not mention the cold weather, or our short meals, or her hard work, that we little ones might be clothed, and fed, and taught. But she would not weaken his hands, or sadden his heart, for she said a soldier's lot was harder than all. We saw that she never complained, but always kept in her heart a sweet hope, like a well of living water. Every night ere we slept, and every morning when we arose, we lifted our little hands for God's blessing on our absent father, and our endangered country."
How deeply the prayers from such solitary homes, and faithful hearts, were mingled with the infant liberties of our dear native land, we may not know until we enter where we see no more "through a glass darkly, but face to face."
Incidents repeatedly occurred during this contest of eight years, between the feeble colonies and the strong motherland, of a courage that ancient Sparta would have applauded.
In a thinly settled part of Virginia, the quiet of the Sabbath eve was once broken by the loud, hurried roll of the drum. Volunteers were invoked to go forth and prevent the British troops, under the pitiless Tarleton, from forcing their way through an important mountain pass. In an old fort resided a family, all of whose elder sons were absent with our army, which at the North opposed the foe. The father lay enfeebled and sick. Around his bedside the Mother called their three sons, of the ages of thirteen, fifteen, and seventeen.
"Go forth, children," said she, "to the defence of your native clime. Go, each and all of you. I spare not my youngest, my fair-haired boy, the light of my declining years.
"Go forth, my sons. Repel the foot of the invader, or see my face no more."
It has been recorded in the annals of other climes, as well as our own, that Woman, under the pressure of unusual circumstances, has revealed unwonted and unexpected energies. It is fitting that she should prove herself equal to every emergency, nor shrink from any duty that dangers or reverses may impose.
Still, her best happiness and true glory are doubtless found in her own peculiar sphere. Rescued, as she has been, from long darkness, by the precepts of the religion of Jesus, brought forth into the broad sunlight of knowledge and responsibility, she is naturally anxious to know how to discharge her debt to the age, and to her own land. Her patriotism is, to labor in the sanctuary of home, and in every allotted department of education, to form and train a race that shall bless their country, and serve their God.
There has been sometimes claimed for her, under the name of "rights," a wider participation in the pursuits, exposures, and honors appertaining to men. Were these somewhat indefinite claims conceded, would the change promote her welfare? Would she be a gainer by any added power or sounding title, which should require the sacrifice of that delicacy which is the life-blood of her sex?
Would it be better for man to have no exercise for those energies, which the state of a gentle, trustful being calls forth; those protecting energies which reveal his peculiar strength, and liken him to a god-like nature? Would it add either to her attractions or his happiness, to confront her in the arena of political strife, or enable her to bear her part in fierce collision with the bold and unprincipled? Might it not endanger or obliterate that enthusiasm of love, which she so much prizes, to meet the tutelary spirit of his home delights, on the steep unsheltered heights of ambition, as a competitor or a rival?
Would it be as well for the rising generation, who are given into the arms of Woman for their earliest guidance, that the ardor of her nature should be drawn into different and contradictory channels? When a traveler in those lands where she goes forth to manual toil in the fields, I have mourned to see her neglected little ones, deprived of maternal care, unsoftened by the blandishments of its tenderness, growing up like animals, groveling, unimpressible, unconscientious. Whatever detaches her thoughts or divides her heart from home duties and affections, is especially a loss to the young plants that depend on her nurture and supervision.
If, therefore, the proposed change should profit neither man, woman, nor the rising race, how can it benefit the world at large? Is it not the province of true wisdom to select such measures as promote the greatest good of the greatest number?
A moralist has well said, that "in contentions for power, both the philosophy and poetry of life are dropped and trodden down." A still heavier loss would accrue to domestic happiness, and the interests of well balanced society, should the innate delicacy and prerogative of woman, as woman, be sacrificed or transmuted.
"I have given her as a help-meet," said the Voice that cannot err, when it spake unto Adam "in the cool of the day," amid the trees of Paradise. Not as a slave, a clog, a toy, a wrestler, a prize-fighter, a ruler. No. A helper, such as was meet for man to desire, and for her to become.
If the unerring Creator has assigned different spheres of action to the sexes, it is to be presumed that some adaptation exists to their respective sphere, that there is work enough in each to employ them, and that the faithful performance of that work will be for the welfare of both. If He hath constituted one