history | ETERNALLY PLANTED

ELIZABETH MARTIN.

June 12, 2024April 4, 2024Tammy M CardwellLeave a comment

The mothers of our Forest-land !
Their bosoms pillowed men.
W. D. Gallagher

-A fine family is a fine thing.
Byron

The mother-in-law of the two patriotic women spoken of in the preceding article, was a native of Caroline county, Virginia. Her maiden name was Marshall. On marrying Mr. Abram Martin, she removed to South Carolina.

When the Revolutionary war broke out, she had seven sons old enough to enlist in their country’s service; and as soon as the call to arms was heard, she said to them, “Go, boys, and fight for your country! fight till death, if you must, but never let your country be dishonored. Were I a man I would go with you.”

Several British officers once called at her house, and while receiving some refreshments, one of them asked her how many sons she had. She told him, eight; and when asked where they were, she boldly replied, “Seven of them are engaged in the service of their country.” The officer sneeringly observed that she had enough of them. “No, sir, I wish I had fifty!” was her prompt and proud reply.

Only one of those seven sons was killed during the war. He was a captain of artillery, served in the sieges of Savannah and Charleston, and was slain at the siege of Augusta. Soon after his death a British officer called on the mother, and in speaking of this son, inhumanly told her that he saw his brains blown out on the battle field. The reply she made to the monster’s observation was: “He could not have died in a nobler cause.”

When Charleston was besieged, she had three sons in the place. She heard the report of cannon on the occasion, though nearly a hundred miles west of the besieged city. The wives of the sons were with her, and manifested great uneasiness while listening to the reports; nor could the mother control her feelings any better. While they were indulging in silent and, as we may suppose, painful reflections, the mother suddenly broke the silence by exclaming, as she raised her hands: “Thank God! they are the children of the republic!”*

•Vide Women of the Revolution, vol. 1 p. 278.

______

Excerpted from Noble Deeds of American Women
(Patriotic Series for Boys and Girls)
Edited by J. Clement
——
With an Introduction by Mrs. L. H. Sigourney
Illustrated
BOSTON: Lee and Shepard, Publishers
Entered by Act of Congress, in the year of 1851,
by E. H. Derby and Co., in the Clerk’s Office of the Northern District of New York
______

American Women: A Christian Woman in the Hour of Danger

September 20, 2023April 4, 2024Tammy M CardwellLeave a comment

O rainbow of the battle-storm!
    Methinks thou’rt gleaming on my sight;
I see thy fair and fragile form
    Amid the thick cloud of the fight.
                                                Sara J Clarke

One grain of incense with devotion offered,
Is beyond all perfumes or Sabean spices.
Massinger

The following incident, we are informed by Mrs. Ellet, was communicated to a minister- – Rev. J. H. Saye –by two officers in the Revolutionary war. One of them was in the skirmish referred to; the other lived near the scene of action; hence, it may be relied on as authentic. The name of the heroine is unknown, which is greatly to be regretted:

“Early in the war, the inhabitants on the frontier of Burke county, North Carolina, being apprehensive of an attack by the Indians, it was determined to seek protection in a fort in a more densely populated neighborhood in an interior settlement. A party of soldiers was sent to protect them on their retreat. The families assembled, the line of march was taken towards their place of destination, and they proceeded some miles unmolested -the soldiers marching in a hollow square, with the refugee families in the centre. The Indians who had watched these movements, had laid a plan for their destruction. The road to be traveled lay through a dense forest in the fork of a river, where the Indians concealed themselves, and waited till the travelers were in the desired spot. Suddenly the war-whoop sounded in front, and on either side; a large body of painted warriors rushed in, filling the gap by which the whites had entered, and an appalling crash of fire-arms followed. The soldiers, however, were prepared; such as chanced to be near the trees darted behind them, and began to ply the deadly rifle; the others prostrated themselves upon the earth, among the tall grass, and crawled to trees. The families screened themselves as best they could.The onset was long and fiercely urged; ever and anon amid the din and smoke, the warriors would rush, tomahawk in hand, towards the centre; but they were repulsed by the cool intrepidity of the back-woods riflemen. Still they fought on, determined on the destruction of the victims who offered such desperate resistance. All at once an appalling sound greeted the ears of the women and children in the centre; it was a cry from their defenders – a cry for powder! ‘Our powder is giving out,’ they exclaimed. ‘Have you any? Bring us some, or we can fight no longer!’ A woman of the party had a good supply. She spread her apron on the ground poured her powder into it, and going round, from soldier to soldier, as they stood behind the trees, bade each who needed powder put down his hat, and poured a quantity upon it. Thus she went round the line of defence, till her whole stock, and all she could obtain from others, was distributed. At last the savages gave way, and, pressed by their foes, were driven off the ground. The victorious whites returned to those for whose safety they had ventured into the wilderness. Inquiries were made as to who had been killed, and one running up, cried, ‘Where is the woman that gave us the powder? I want to see her!’ ‘Yes!- yes!-let us see her!’ responded another and another; ‘without her we should have been all lost! The soldiers ran about among the women and children, looking for her and making inquiries. Directly came in others from the pursuit, one of whom observing the commotion, asked the cause, and was told. ‘You are looking in the wrong place,’ he replied. ‘Is she killed? Ah, we were afraid of that!’ exclaimed many voices. ‘Not when I saw her,’ answered the soldier. ‘When the Indians ran off, she was on her knees in prayer at the root of yonder tree, and there I left her. There was a simultaneous rush to the tree–and there, to their great joy, they found the woman safe, and still on her knees in prayer. Thinking not of herself, she received their applause without manifesting any other feeling than gratitude to Heaven for their great deliverance.”

TAMMY’S NOTE

I hope you’re enjoying these glimpses into American History. At one point, I collected antique history books both because they were a pleasure to read and because, as we know, the closer you get to the source the more accurate your information is likely to be. Even as I handle the book, while pulling from its pages, it astounds me that I have the honor of holding a piece of American History that is over 160 years old!

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

American Women: Ann H. Judson

September 13, 2023April 4, 2024Tammy M CardwellLeave a comment

ANN H. JUDSON

God has a bright example made of thee,
To show that womankind may be
Above that sex which her superior seems,
Cowley.

About the commencement of the present century, a new field was opened for the display of Christian heroism. The despairing wail of the pagan millions of the East, had reached the ears of a few of the most devoted people of God on these Western shores, and the question arisen, Who shall lead the way to heathen realms, who among us first encounter the perils of an attempt to plant the standard of the Cross beside the pagodas of Buddhism? He who would then go forth, must leave his native land with the parting benediction of but few friends; must be accompanied with few and faint prayers; must make his own path through the tiger-haunted jungles, and face alone the untried dangers of a dubious assault on the strongholds of pagan superstition. But, notwithstanding the discouragements inwoven with the contemplation of the undertaking, and the great peril that must attend its completion, it was magnanimous and sublime, and there were hearts in the land philanthropic enough to embark in it and brave enough to face its terrors without fainting.

Among the foremost Americans who offered their services in this work, were the Rev. Adoniram Judson and his wife. They embarked from Salem, Massachusetts, for Calcutta, with Samuel Newell and lady, on the nineteenth of February, 1812: and five days afterwards Messrs. Hall and Nott, with their wives, and Mr. Rice, sailed from Philadelphia for the same place. The names of these pioneer missionaries are sacred to the memory of all living Christians, and, being embodied in the history of the grandest enterprise of the age, are to be handed down to all future generations.

While all the female portion of this little band, exhibited many excellent traits of character, and worked well while their day lasted, no other one endured so many and so great hardships and trials, encountered such fearful perils, and had such an opportunity to test the strength of the higher virtues, as Mrs. Judson.

Ann Hasseltine was born at Bradford, in Essex county, Massachusetts, on the twenty-second day of December, 1789. She was an active and enthusiastic. child; of a gay disposition, yet thoughtful at times; and before she was seventeen, gave religion that attention which its importance demands.

She became acquainted with Mr. Judson in 1810. He was then a student in the Andover Theological Seminary, preparing for the work of foreign missions A mutual and strong attachment sprang up, and they were married in February, 1812, two weeks before their embarkation for India.

Mr. and Mrs. Judson first halted at Serampore. There, soon after their arrival, they were immersed by an English missionary, having changed their views of the ordinance of baptism on the long voyage across the Atlantic and Indian oceans. From that place they were soon driven by the Directors and Agents of the British East India Company, who were at that time opposed to the introduction of the Christian religion into those parts. They sailed from Madras for Rangoon, on the twenty-second of June, 1813, and settled at the latter place.

From the commencement of missionary toil, Mrs. Judson had many inconveniencies to encounter, but they were met with patience and served to strengthen that energy which, it will be seen, was afterwards so much needed and so strikingly displayed. Four or five years after settling at Rangoon, Mr. Judson went to Chittagong, in a neighboring province, to secure help, some Arracanese converts being there, who spoke the Burman language. He expected to return within three months. “At the expiration of this period, however, when his return was daily expected, a vessel from Chittagong arrived at Rangoon, bringing the distressing intelligence that neither he nor the vessel in which he had embarked had been heard of at that port. Similar tidings were also contained in letters which Mrs. Judson received from Bengal.

“While the missionaries were in this state of fearful suspense, an incident occurred which was well calculated to increase the perplexity and dismay in which they were plunged. Mr. Hough,* who had continued quietly studying the language at the mission house, was suddenly summoned to appear immediately at the court house, and it was rumored among the affrighted domestics and neighbors who followed the officers that came for Mr. Hough, that the king had issued a decree for the banishment of all the foreign teachers. It was late in the afternoon when he made his appearance before the despotic tribunal that was charged with the execution of the imperial decree, and he was merely required to give security for his appearance the following morning; when, as the unfeeling magistrates declared, ‘if he did not tell all the truth relative to his situation in the country, they would write with his heart’s blood. Mr. Hough was detained from day to day on the most flimsy pretences, himself unable to speak the language, and with no one near him who would attempt to explain his situation or vindicate his objects and his conduct. The viceroy whom Mr. and Mrs. Judson had known, had recently been recalled to Ava, and he who now held the reins of the government was a stranger, and, as his family were not with him, Mrs. Judson, according to the etiquette of the court, could not be admitted to his presence. The order which had led to the arrest was found to relate to some Portuguese priests whom the king had banished, and Mr. Hough was at first summoned to give assurance that he was not one of the number, and then detained by the officers in order to extort money for his ransom. He was at length released by order of the viceroy, to whom Mrs. Judson boldly carried the cause and presented a petition which she had caused her teacher to draw up for the purpose.

“The anxiety occasioned by this arrest and its train of petty annoyances, and still more by the protracted and mysterious absence of Mr. Judson, was at this time greatly increased by rumors which reached Rangoon, of an impending war between the English and the Burman governments. There were but few English vessels lying in the river, and the English traders who were in the country were closing their business and preparing to hasten away, at any new indications of hostilities that should be presented. The condition of the missionaries was rendered still more distressing by the ravages of the cholera, which now, for the first time made its appearance in Burmah, and was sending its terrors throughout the empire. The poor people of Rangoon fell in hundreds before its frightful progress. The dismal death-drum continually gave forth its warning sound as new names were added to the melancholy list of victims to the desolating malady. In these gloomy circumstances, they saw ship after ship leave the river, bearing away all the foreigners who were in the province, until at length the only one remaining was on the eve of sailing. Harassed with doubts concerning the uncertain fate of Mr. Judson, and surrounded with perils, they saw before them what appeared the last opportunity of leaving the country, before the threatened hostilities should begin, and they should be exposed to all the merciless cruelties of barbarian warfare.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hough decided to go on board and escape to Bengal, while escape was still in their power, and they urged Mrs. Judson to accompany them. She at length reluctantly yielded to their advice, and with a heart burdened with sorrows she embarked with her companions, on the fifth of July, in the only ship that remained to carry them from the country. The ship, however, was delayed for several days in the river, and was likely to be subjected to still further detention. Mrs. Judson, who had gone on board rather in obedience to the entreaties of her associates, and the dictates of prudence, than from the suggestions of that truer instinct which often serves to guide the noblest natures in great emergencies, now decided to leave the ship and return alone to the mission house, there to await either the return of her husband, or the confirmation of her worst fears respecting his fate. It was a noble exhibiton of heroic courage, and gave assurance of all the distinguished qualities which, at a later period and amid dangers still more appalling, shone with unfailing brightness around the character of this remarkable woman. The event justified her determination; and, within a week after her decision was taken, Mr. Judson arrived at Rangoon, having been driven from place to place by contrary winds and having entirely failed of the object for which he undertook the voyage.”**

In the summer of 1890, Mrs. Judson’s health had become so far undermined by the deleterious influences of the climate, that it was deemed necessary that she should go to Calcutta for medical advice, better physicians being located there than in Rangoon. She was so feeble that her husband was obliged to accompany her. She was soon removed to Serampore, where were eminently skillful physicians and a purer atmosphere. Her health so improved in six months that she returned with her husband to Rangoon. The malady which had afflicted her was the chronic liver complaint. It was not entirely removed at Serampore, and a few months after her return, it began to distress her more than ever. It was now thought that nothing but a visit to her native land could save her. Accordingly, on the twenty-first of August, 1891, she started for Calcutta, where, after some delay, she found a ship bound to England, by which route she returned, reaching New York on the twenty-fifth of September, 1822.

She remained in this country nine months, During that short period, aside from paying a visit to her relations, she attended the Triennial Convention at Washington, held in May, 1823; visited the larger cities North and South; attended numerous meetings of female associations; and prepared a history of the Burman mission which was so ably written that even the London Quarterly Review, and, if we mistake not, other English periodicals of high critical character, noticed it in commendatory terms.

The following extracts from letters written to Dr. Wayland while in this country, show the interest she took in the affairs of Burmah while absent from that land of her adoption. Under date of “Baltimore, January twenty-second, 1823,” she says, “I want the Baptists throughout the United States to feel, that Burmah must be converted through their instrumentality. They must do more than they have ever yet done. They must pray more, they must give more, and make greater efforts to prevent the Missionary flame from becoming extinct. Every Christian in the United States should feel as deeply impressed with the importance of making continual efforts for the salvation of the heathen, as though their conversion depended solely on himself. Every individual Christian should feel himself guilty if he has not done and does not continue to do all in his power for the spread of the gospel and the enlightening of the heathen world. But I need not write thus to you. You see, you feel the misery of the heathen world. Try to awaken Christians around you. Preach frequently on the subject of Missions. I have remarked it to be the case, when a minister feels much engaged for the heathen, his people generaly partake of his spirit.”

Writing from Washington in the following March she says, “I long to be in Rangoon, and am anxiously hoping to get away in the spring. Do make inquiries relative to the sailing of ships from Boston and Salem. I must not miss one good opportunity.”

With her health much improved though not fully restored, she sailed for her Burman home on the twenty-second of June, 1823, and reached Rangoon on the fifth of the following December. She found the work of the mission prospering. The next year, however, a war broke out between the Burman government and the English in Bengal, and, not only suspended the operations of the missionaries, but jeopardised their lives. They were supposed to be spies employed by the English government. Mr. and Mrs. Judson, with Dr. Price, another of the missionaries, were at that time at Ava, where the imperial government of the Burman Empire had just been removed.

“It was on the eighth of June, 1824, that a company of Burmans, headed by an officer, and attended by a ‘spotted-faced son of the prison,’ came to the mission house, and, in the presence of Mrs. Judson seized her husband and Dr. Price, and after binding them tight with cords, drove them away to the court house. From this place they were hurried, by order of the king, without examination, to a loathsome dungeon, known as ‘the death prison,’ where along with the other foreigners they were confined, each loaded with three pairs of fetters and fastened to a long pole, so as to be incapable of moving. Meanwhile, Mrs. Judson was shut up in her house, deprived of her furniture and of most of her articles of property, and watched for several days by an unfeeling guard, to whose rapacious extortions and brutal annoyances she was constantly exposed, without being able to make any exertion for the liberation of the prisoners, or the mitigation of their cruel sentence. She however, at length succeeded in addressing a petition to the governor of the city, who had the prisoners in charge. By a present of one hundred dollars to his subordinate officer, their condition was somewhat meliorated, and by the unwearied perseverance of Mrs. Judson, and her affecting appeals to the sympathies of the governor, he was induced to grant her occasional permission to go to the prison, and at length to build for herself a bamboo shed in the prison yard, where she took up her abode, in order that she might prepare food for the prisoners, and otherwise minister to their necessities.

“At the end of nine months they were suddenly removed from Ava to Amarapura, and thence to a wretched place several miles beyond, called Oung-pen-la, where it was arranged that they should be put to death in presence of the pakah-woon, as a kind of sacrifice in honor of his taking command of a new army of fifty thousand men about to march against the English. This sanguinary chief had been raised from a low condition to the rank of woongyee; but in the height of his power, just as he was about to march at the head of the army he had mustered, he fell into disgrace, was charged with treason, and executed, at an hour’s notice, with the unqualified approbation of all classes of people at Ava. His timely execution saved the missionaries from the fate which hung over them, and they were left uncared for in the miserable cells of Oung-pen-la, till the near approach of the English to the capitol induced the king to send for Mr. Judson, to accompany the embassy that was about to start for the English camp, for the purpose of averting the destruction that now threatened the Golden City.

“During this period of a year and a half Mrs. Judson followed them from prison to prison, beneath the darkness of night and the burning sun of noon-day, bearing in her arms her infant daughter, – the child of sorrow and misfortune, who was born after the imprisonment of its father, – procuring for them food which Burman policy never supplies to prisoners, and perpetually interceding for them with their successive keepers, with the governor of the city, with the kinsmen of the monarch, and the members of the royal household. More than once the queen’s brother gave orders that they should be privately put to death; but such was the influence which Mrs. Judson possessed over the mind of the governor, that he evaded the order each time it was given, and assured her that for her sake he would not execute her husband, even though he was obliged to execute all the others. And when at last they were to be taken from his jurisdiction and driven to the horid prison-house of Oung-pen-la, at the command of the pakah-woon, the old man humanely summoned Mrs. Judson from the prison where he had permitted her to go and sit with her husband, in order that she might be spared the pangs of a separation which he had not the power to prevent. Her own pen has traced, in lines that will never be forgotten by those who read them, the affecting history of the dismal days and nights of her husband’s captivity. We follow her alike with admiration and the deepest sympathy as she takes her solitary way from Ava, at first in a boat upon the river, and then in a Burman cart, in search of the unknown place to which the prisoners have been carried. At length, overcome with fatigue, with exposure, and the bitter pangs of, hope deferred, we see her in a comfortless cabin, prostrate with disease and brought to the very gates of death, -while her infant is carried about the village by its father in the hours of his occasional liberation, to be nourished by such Burman mothers as might have compassion on its helpless necessities.

“Such is a single scene from this melancholy record of missionary suffering. History has not recorded: poetry itself has seldom portrayed, a more affecting exhibition of Christian fortitude, of female heroism, and all the noble and generous qualities which constitute the dignity and glory of woman. In the midst of sickness and danger, and every calamity which can crush the human heart, she presented a character equal to the sternest trial, and an address and fertility of resources which gave her an ascendency over the minds of her most cruel enemies, and alone saved the missionaries and their fellow captives from the terrible doom which constantly awaited them. Day after day and amid the lonely hours of night was she employed in conciliating the favor of their keepers, and in devising plans for their release, or the alleviation of their captivity. Sometimes, she confesses, her thoughts would wander for a brief interval to America and the beloved friends of her better days; ‘but for nearly a year and a half, so entirely engrossed was every thought with present scenes and sufferings, that she seldom reflected on a single occurrence of her former life, or recollected that she had a friend in existence out of Ava.’ “***

When peace was declared between the two powers, by the terms of negotiation, the European prisoners were all released; and thus closed the long and brutal incarceration of the missionaries. Mr. and Mrs. Judson immediately departed for Rangoon. They soon removed to Amherst, a new town on the Salwen or Martaban river. After having established a mission there, Mr. Judson had occasion to visit Ava. He started on the fifth of July, 1826, leaving his wife and infant daughter in the care of kind friends. He was detained at the Capital longer than he had anticipated; and before he returned he received the painful intelligence that his wife was dead. “A remittent fever had settled on her constitution, already enfeebled by suffering and disease, and she died on the twenty-fourth of October, 1826, amid the universal sorrow, alike of the English residents at Amherst and of the native Christians who had gathered around her at her new home. Her infant daughter died a few weeks afterwards, and side by side they were laid to rest, under a large hopia tree a few rods from the house where she had resided. Two marble stones, procured by the contributions of several female friends in her native land, are the humble memorial that marks the spot where sleeps one whose “name will be remembered in the churches of Burmah, in future times, when the pagodas of Gaudama shall have fallen; when the spires of Christian temples shall gleam along the waters of the Irrawaddy and the Salwen: and when the ‘Golden City’ shall have lifted up her gates to let the King of Glory in.”

* Mr Elough was a printer in the employment of the Baptist Board

AUTHOR.

** Gammell’s History of American Baptist Missions

*** Gammell

America Women: The Wife of John Adams

September 6, 2023April 4, 2024Tammy M CardwellLeave a comment

THE WIFE OF JOHN ADAMS

The mother in her office holds the key
Of the soul; and she it is who stamps the coin
Of character, and makes the being who would be a savage,
But for her gentle cares, a Christian man.
OLD PLAY

————— O we will walk this world,
Yoked in all exercise of noble aim.
Tennyson

Abigail Smith was a daughter of the Rev. William Smith, a Congregational minister of Weymouth, Massachusetts, where she was born on the eleventh of November, 1744, O. S. “It was fashionable to ridicule female learning,” in her day; and she says of herself in one of her letters, “I was never sent to any school.” She adds, “I was always sick. Female education, in the best families, went no further than writing and arithmetic.” But notwithstanding her educational disadvantages, she read and studied in private, and kept up a brisk correspondence with relatives, and by these means expanded and fed her mind, and cultivated an easy and graceful style of writing.

On the twenty-fifth of October, 1764, Miss Smith became the wife of John Adams, a lawyer of Braintree.* Her grandson, Charles Francis Adams, to whose Memoir of her we are indebted for these statistics, says, that “the ten years immediately following, present little that is worth recording.”

Prior to 1778, Mr. and Mrs. Adams had been separated at sundry times, in all, more than three years, which was a severe trial to her fortitude. The strength of her conjugal affection may be gathered from an extract from one of her letters: “I very well remember,” she writes, “when the eastern circuits of the courts, which lasted a month, were thought an age, and an absence of three months, intolerable; but we are carried from step to step, and from one degree to another, to endure that which at first we think impossible.” Thus she was schooled for separation from her husband, when, in 1778, he went to France as a joint commissioner. While he was absent from his country on that occasion, faithful to the calls of duty, she remained at home, and managed, as she had done before, the affairs of the household and farm. And there let the reader look at her and see a picture of a true mother of the Revolution. “She is a farmer cultivating the land, and discussing the weather and crops; a merchant reporting prices-current and the rates of exchange, and directing the making up of invoices; a politician, speculating upon the probabilities of peace or war; and a mother, writing the most exalted sentiments to her son.”

What nobler deed could the mother, thus situated, do with her son, John Quincy Adams, in a foreign land, than to write to him in a tone like that of the extracts which follow, and which are taken from letters dated 1778-8O:

“‘Tis almost four months since you left your native land, and embarked upon the mighty waters, in quest of a foreign country. Although I have not particularly written to you since, yet you may be assured you have constantly been upon my heart and mind.

“It is a very difficult task, my dear son, for a tender parent to bring her mind to part with a child of your years going to a distant land; nor could I have acquiesced in such a separation under any other care than that of the most excellent parent and guardian who accompanied you. You have arrived at years capable of improving under the advantages you will be likely to have, if you do but properly attend to them.

They are talents put into your hands, of which an account will be required of you hereafter; and being possessed of one, two, or four, see to it that you double your numbers.

“The most amiable and most useful disposition in a young mind is diffidence of itself; and this should lead you to seek advice and instruction from him, who is your natural guardian, and will always counsel and direct you in the best manner, both for your present and future happiness. You are in possession of a natural good understanding, and of spirits unbroken by adversity and untamed with care. Improve your understanding by aquiring useful knowledge and virtue, such as will render you an ornament to society, an honor to your country, and a blessing to your parents.

Great learning and superior abilities, should you ever possess them, will be of little value and small estimation, unless virtue, honor, truth, and integrity are added to them. Adhere to those religious sentiments and principles which were early instilled into your mind, and remember that you are accountable to your Maker for all your words and actions.

“Let me enjoin it upon you to attend constantly and steadfastly to the precepts and instructions of your father, as you value the happiness of your mother and your own welfare. His care and attention to you render many things unnecessary for me to write, which I might otherwise do; but the inadvertency and heedlessness of youth require line upon line and precept upon precept, and, when enforced by the joint efforts of both parents, will, I hope, have a due influence upon your conduct; for, dear as you are to me, I would much rather you should have found your grave in the ocean you have crossed, or that any untimely death crop you in your infant years, than see you an immoral, profligate, or graceless child.

“You have entered early in life upon the great theatre of the world, which is full of temptations and vice of every kind. You are not wholly unacquainted with history, in which you have read of crimes which your inexperienced mind could scarcely believe credible. You have been taught to think of them with horror, and to view vice as

‘a monster of so frightful mien,
That, to be hated, needs but to be seen.’

“Yet you must keep a strict guard upon yourself, or the odious monster will soon lose its terror by becoming familiar to you. The modern history of our own times, furnishes as black a list of crimes, as can be paralleled in ancient times, even if we go back to Nero, Caligula, or Caesar Borgia. Young as you are, the cruel war into which we have been compelled by the haughty tyrant of Britain and the bloody emissaries of his vengeance, may stamp upon your mind this certain truth, that the welfare and prosperity of all countries, communities, and, I may add, individuals, depend upon their morals. That nation to which we were once united, as it has departed from justice, eluded and subverted the wise laws which formerly governed it, and suffered the worst of crimes to go unpunished, has lost its valor, wisdom and humanity, and, from being the dread and terror of Europe, has sunk into derision and infamy. …

“Some author, that I have met with, compares a judicious traveler to a river, that increases its stream the further it flows from its source; or to certain springs, which, running through rich veins of minerals, improve their qualities as they pass along. It will be expected of you, my son, that, as you are favored with superior advantages under the instructive eye of a tender parent, your improvement should bear some proportion to your advantages. Nothing is wanting with you but attention, diligence, and steady application. Nature has not been deficient.

“These are times in which a genius would wish to live. It is not in the still calm of life, or the repose of a pacific station, that great characters are formed. Would Cicero have shone so distinguished an orator if he had not been roused, kindled, and inflamed by the tyranny of Catiline, Verres, and Mark Anthony? The habits of a vigorous mind are formed in contending with difficulties. All history will convince you of this, and that wisdom and penetration are the fruit of experience, not the lessons of retirement and leisure. Great necessities call out great virtues. When a mind is raised and animated by scenes that engage the heart, then those qualities, which would otherwise lie dormant, wake into life and form the character of the hero and the statesman. War, tyranny, and desolation are the scourges of the Almighty, and ought no doubt to be deprecated. Yet it is your lot, my son, to be an eye witness of these calamities in your own native land, and, at the same time, to owe your existence among a people who have made a glorious defence of their invaded liberties, and who, aided by a generous and powerful ally, with the blessing of Heaven, will transmit this inheritance to ages yet unborn.

“Nor ought it to be one of the least of your incitements towards exerting every power and faculty of your mind, that you have a parent who has taken so large and active a share in this contest, and discharged the trust reposed in him with so much satisfaction as to be honored with the important embassy which at present calls him abroad.

“The strict and inviolable regard you have ever paid to truth, gives me pleasing hopes that you will not swerve from her dictates, but add justice. fortitude, and every manly virtue which can adorn a good citizen, do honor to your country, and render your parents supremely happy, particularly your ever affectionate mother.

… “The only sure and permanent foundation of virtue is religion. Let this important truth be engraven upon your heart. And also, that the foundation of religion is the belief of the one only God, and a just sense of his attributes, as a being infinitely wise, just, and good, to whom you owe the highest reverence, gratitude, and adoration; who superintends and governs all nature, even to clothing the lilies of the field, and hearing the young ravens when they cry; but more particularly regards man, whom he created after his own image, and breathed into him an immortal spirit, capable of a happiness beyond the grave; for the attainment of which he is bound to the performance of certain duties, which all tend to the happiness and welfare of society, and are comprised in one short sentence, expressive of universal benevolence, ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.’ . .

…. .

” Justice, humanity, and benevolence, are the duties you owe to society in general. To your country the same duties are incumbent upon you, with the additional obligation of sacrificing ease, pleasure, wealth, and life itself for its defence and security. To your parents you owe love, reverence, and obedience to all just and equitable commands. To yourself, — here, indeed, is a wide field to expatiate upon. To become what you ought to be, and what a fond mother wishes to see you, attend to some precepts and instructions from the pen of one, who can have no motive but your welfare and happiness, and who wishes in this way to supply to you the personal watchfulness and care, which a separation from you deprived you of at a period of life, when habits are easiest acquired and fixed; and though the advice may not be new, yet suffer it to obtain a place in your memory, for occasions may offer, and perhaps some concurring circumstances unite, to give it weight and force.

“Suffer me to recommend to you one of the most useful lessons of life, the knowledge and study of yourself. There you run the greatest hazard of being deceived. Self-love and partiality cast a mist before the eyes, and there is no knowledge so hard to be acquired, nor of more benefit when once thoroughly understood. Ungoverned passions have aptly been compared to the boisterous ocean, which is known to produce the most terrible effects. ‘Passions are the elements of life,’ but elements which are subject to the control of reason. Whoever will candidly examine themselves, will find some degree of passion, peevishness, or obstinacy in their natural tempers. You will seldom find these disagreeable ingredients all united in one; but the uncontrolled indulgence of either is sufficient to render the possessor unhappy in himself, and disagreeable to all who are so unhappy as to be witnesses of it, or suffer from its effects.

“You, my dear son, are formed with a constitution feelingly alive; your passions are strong and impetuous; and, though I have sometimes seen them hurry you into excesses, yet with pleasure I have observed a frankness and generosity accompany your efforts to govern and subdue them. Few persons are so subject to passion, but that they can command themselves, when they have a motive sufficiently strong; and those who are most apt to transgress will restrain themselves through respect and reverence to superiors, and even, where they wish to recommend themselves, to their equals. The due government of the passions, has been considered in all ages as a most valuable acquisition. Hence an inspired writer observes, ‘He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit, than he that taketh a city.’ This passion, cooperating with power, and unrestrained by reason, has produced the subversion of cities, the desolation of countries, the massacre of nations, and filled the world with injustice and oppression. Behold your own country, your native land, suffering from the effects of lawless power and malignant passions, and learn betimes, from your own observation and experience, to govern and control yourself. Having once obtained this self-government, you will find a foundation laid for happiness to yourself and usefulness to mankind. ‘Virtue alone is happiness below;’ and consists in cultivating and improving every good inclination, and in checking and subduing every propensity to evil. I have been particular upon the passion of anger, as it is generally the most predominant passion at your age, the soonest excited, and the least pains are taken to subdue it

‘what composes man, can man destroy.?'”

With such a mother to counsel him, one is led to ask, how could John Quincy Adams help becoming a noble-minded and great man? Who wonders that, with good natural endowments and his excellent privileges, coupled with maternal training, he fitted himself to fill the highest office in the gift of a free people?

In June, 1784, Mrs. Adams sailed for London to join her husband, who was then our Minister at the Court of St. James. While absent, she visited France and Netherlands; resided for a time in the former country; and returned with her knowledge of human nature, of men, manners, &c., enlarged; disgusted with the splendor and sophistications of royalty, and well prepared to appreciate the republican simplicity and frankness of which she was herself a model. While Mr. Adams was Vice-President and President, she never laid aside her singleness of heart, and that sincerity and unaffected dignity which had won for her many friends before her elevation, and which, in spite of national animosity, conquered the prejudices and gained the hearts of the aristocracy of Great Britain. But her crowning virtue was her Christian humility, which is beautifully exemplified in a letter which she wrote to Mr. Adams, on the 8th of February, 1797, “the day on which the votes for President were counted, and Mr. Adams, as Vice-President, was required by law to announce himself the President elect for the ensuing term:”

“‘The sun is dressed in brightest beams.
To give thy honors to the day.’

“And may it prove an auspicious prelude to each ensuing season. You have this day to declare yourself head of a nation. ‘And now, O Lord, my God, thou hast made thy servant ruler over the people. Give unto him an understanding heart, that he may know how to go out and come in before this great people; that he may discern between good and bad. For who is able to judge this thy so great a people?’ were the words of a royal sovereign; and not less applicable to him who is invested with the chief magistracy of a nation, though he wear not a crown, nor the robes of royalty.

“My thoughts and my meditations are with you, though personally absent; and my petitions to Heaven are, that ‘the things which make for peace may not be hidden from your eyes.’ My feelings are not those of pride or ostentation, upon the occasion. They are solemnized by a sense of the obligations, the important trusts, and numerous duties connected with it. That you may be enabled to discharge them with honor to yourself, with justice and impartiality to your country, and with satisfaction to this great people, shall be the daily prayer of your “A. A.”

From her husband’s retirement from the Presidency, in 1801, to the close of her life, in 1818, Mrs. Adams remained constantly at Quiney. Cheerful, contented, and happy, she devoted her last years, in that rural seclusion, to the reciprocities of friendship and love, to offices of kindness and charity, and, in short, to all those duties which tend to ripen the Christian for an exchange of worlds.

But it would be doing injustice to her character and leaving one of her noblest deeds unrecorded, to close without mentioning the influence for good which she exerted over Mr. Adams, and her part in the work of making him what he was. That he was sensible of the benignant influence of wives, may be gathered from the following letter which was addressed to Mrs. Adams from Philadelphia, on the eleventh of August, 1777:

“I think I have some times observed to you in conversation, that upon examining the biography of illustrious men, you will generally find some female about them, in the relation of mother, or wife, or sister, to whose instigation a great part of their merit is to be ascribed. You will find a curious example of this in the case of Aspasia, the wife of Pericles. She was a woman of the greatest beauty, and the first genius. She taught him, it is said, his refined maxims of policy, his lofty imperial eloquence, nay, even composed the speeches on which so great a share of his reputation was founded.

“I wish some of our great men had such wives. By the account in your last letter, it seems the women in Boston begin to think themselves able to serve their country. What a pity it is that our generals in the northern districts had not Aspasias to their wives.

“I believe the two Howes have not very great women to their wives. If they had, we should suffer more from their exertions than we do. This is our good fortune. A smart wife would have put Howe in possession of Philadelphia a long time ago.”

While Mr. Adams was wishing that some of our great men had such wives as Aspasia, he had such a wife, was himself such a man, and owed half his greatness to his Aspasia. The exalted patriotism and the cheerful piety infused into the letters she addressed to him during the long night of political uncertainty that hung over these Colonies, strengthened his courage, fired his nobler feelings, nerved his higher purposes and, doubtless, greatly contributed to make him the right hand man of Washington.

The diligent and faithful Andromaches, the gifted and patriotic Aspasias of the Revolution, did their portion of the great work silently and unseen. Secretly they urged their husbands and sons to the battlefield, secretly spoke to them by letter in the camp or convention, and secretly prayed for wisdom to guide our statesmen and victory to crown our arms. Thus privately acting, how little of their labor or their worth is known. How few of their names are treasured in our annals. With rare exceptions, like the builders of the pyramids, their initials are lost. Then, while we have the name and the noble example of Mrs. Adams, with a few of her patriotic compeers, let us pledge our unswerving devotion to Freedom over the unknown names of the wives and mothers who secretly assisted in nerving the arm that broke the sceptre of British dominion on these shores, and gave the eagle of Liberty a safe and abiding home on our mountain tops.

*The part of the town in which he lived was afterwards called Quincy in honor of Mrs. Adams’s maternal grandfather.

American Women: The Wife of Washington

August 30, 2023April 4, 2024Tammy M CardwellLeave a comment

THE WIFE OF WASHINGTON

A woman’s noblest station is retreat:
Her fairest virtues fly from public sight
Domestic worth – that shuns too strong a light.
Lord Lyttleton

The drying up a single tear has more
Of honest fame than shedding seas of gore.
Byron

Woman may possess an equal share of the elements of greatness with man, but she has not an equal opportunity to display them in such a manner as to call forth the admiration and applause of the world. She was not made to pour the tide of eloquence in the Senate chamber, or lead on to victory the brave and heroic spirits of the land. Her course leads mainly through the quiet valley of domestic retirement, where the stream can rarely leap from dizzy heights with a thundering plunge, whose echoes shall go booming on to fill the ear of coming generations: her movements and influence are more like those of springs, which, flowing noiselessly and unseen, are widely scattered, and every where diffuse incalculable blessings.

The wife of Washington could not be the hero of a seven-years’ war, or the chief magistrate of a republic; but, as the companion of such a man, she could shine, in her own proper sphere, with a lustre as mild, as steady, as serene, as his. And thus she did. Prompt to obey the calls of duty, when the voice of humanity beckoned her to the camp, she hastened away, at the sacrifice of ease and comfort, to relieve the wants of the suffering; and when forced to leave her “paradise” at Mount Vernon, to preside, as the matron of the nation, at the President’s house, she did it with a dignity and propriety perhaps never equalled, certainly never excelled. But let us not anticipate.

Martha Dandridge was born in New Kent county, Virginia, in May, 1732. She was endowed with good sense, a strong mind, sound ideas of feminine proprieties, and correct views of woman’s practical duties: and these had to answer measurably as a substitute for the discipline of female seminaries, which were rare in the ” Old Dominion,” and in the Colonies generally, in her younger days. The advantages to be derived from domestic instruction, she enjoyed, and those only. They, however, were cut off at the age of seventeen, by her union in marriage with Colonel Daniel P. Custis, a gentleman of many excellent parts. They settled on his plantation in her native county. Beautiful, lovely in disposition, and fascinating in manners, the young wife was warmly admired by her neighbors and all with whom she came in contact; and her residence, known as the “White house,” was the centre of strong attractions, and the scene of much genuine or – which is the same thing – Virginian, hospitality. Colonel Custis became the father of three children, and then died. Previous to this solemn event, however, the White House had been veiled in weeds for the loss of his oldest child.

With two small children, a son and daughter, Mrs. Custis early found herself a widow, with the disposition and management of all pecuniary interests left by her confiding husband, at her control. As sole executrix, it is said that she “managed the extensive landed and pecuniary concerns of the estate with surprising ability, making loans on mortgages, of money, and through her stewards and agents, conducting the sales or exportation of the crops, to the best possible advantage.”

But from the cares of an extensive estate she was shortly relieved. On the sixth of January, 1759, she gave her hand, with upwards of a hundred thousand dollars, to Colonel George Washington, another planter of her native Colony. At the same time, she relinquished into his hands the guardianship of her children -the son six, and the daughter four years old – together with the care of their property. From the White House, Mrs. Washington now removed to Mount Vernon, which remained her home till her death, and became the final resting place of her remains.

In her new home, as in the White House, she superintended the affairs of the household, exercising continual control over all culinary matters; carefully educating her offspring, and aiming to rear them up for usefulness. These duties she discharged with the utmost assiduity and faithfulness, in spite of the many social obligations which a woman in her position must necessarily encounter.* Nor did the demands of courtesy and of her family debar her from habitual and systematic charities, dispensed in her neighborhood, or from those most important of all daily duties, the calls of the “closet.” In the language of Miss Conkling, in her Memoir: “It is recorded of this devout Christian, that never during her life, whether in prosperity or in adversity, did she omit that daily self-communion and self-examination, and those private devotional exercises, which would best prepare her for the self-control and self-denial by which she was, for more than half a century, so eminently distinguished. It was her habit to retire to her own apartment every morning after breakfast, there to devote an hour to solitary prayer and meditation.”

In 1770, she lost a child of many prayers, of bright hopes, and of much promise, her blooming daughter. She looked upon this affliction as a visitation from Him who doeth all things well, and bore it with becoming resignation, which the Christian only is prepared to do.

During the Revolution, Mrs. Washington was accustomed to pass the winters with her husband at the head quarters of the army and the summers at Mount Vernon; and it was in the camp that she shone with the lustre of the true woman. “She was at Valley Forge in that dreadful winter of 1777-8, her presence and submission to privation strengthening the fortitude of those who might have complained, and giving hope and confidence to the desponding. She soothed the distresses of many sufferers, seeking out the poor and afflicted with benevolent kindness, extending relief wherever it was in her power, and with graceful deportment presiding in the Chief’s humble dwelling.”**

In 1781, she lost her last surviving child, John Custis, aged twenty seven. Her widowed daughter-in-law and the four children, she took to her own home, and thenceforward they were the objects of her untiring solicitude.

The life of Mrs. Washington, after her husband took the Presidential chair, was marked by no striking incidents, and affords scanty material of the nature marked out for this work. During the eight years that he was Chief Magistrate, she presided in his mansion with the same unaffected ease, equanimity and dignified simplicity that had marked her previous course in more retired circles. Visitors were received on all days except the Sabbath, and, irrespective of rank, shared in her courtesies and hospitalities. A portion of each summer, at that period, was passed in the quiet and seclusion of Mount Vernon, she rarely, if ever, accompanying her husband on his tours through the land. She expressed regret when he was chosen President, because she preferred “to grow old” with him “in solitude and tranquillity;” hence it is not surprising that she found a luxury in retiring for a season from the scenes of public life, and in attending to the education of her grand-children and to other self-imposed tasks and important duties, in the performance of which she could bless her friends and honor God.

After the death of her illustrious companion, which occurred in December, 1799, she remained at Mount Vernon; where she spent seventeen months mourning her loss; receiving the visits of the great from all parts of our land, and from various parts of the earth; attending, as heretofore, to her domestic concerns; perfecting in the Christian graces, and ripening for the joys of a holier state of being. On the twenty-second of May, 1801, she who, while on earth, could be placed in no station which she did not dignify and honor, was welcomed to the glories of another world.

* We have the authority of Mr. Sparks for asserting that while Washington’s pursuits were those of a retired planter, he seldom passed a day when at home without the company of friends or strangers, frequently persons of great celebrity, and demanding much attention from the lady of the house.

** Mrs. Washington, in writing to Mrs. Warren, says, “The General’s apartment is very small; he has had a log cabin built to dine in, which has made our quarters more tolerable than at first.”