The Southern journal., 1846-03-21
MISCELLANEOUS.
From the Saturday Courier.
THE HERO WOMAN:
A Legend from the Fourth Lecture Of George Lippad,
Esq, on the Romance Of the Revolution"

In thick wood not more than half
mile from the Schuylkill,th stood
in the time ofthe Revolution, quaint
old farbrie, built of mingled logs and
stone, and enriched by parallel
wall. 1t had been erected in the
days Of William Penn-perhaps some
years before the great apostle Of peace
first trod our shores-as a block house
intended for defence against the In.
dians.
And now it stood with its many
roofs, its numerous chimneys, its mas
sive square windows, its varied front
oi logs and stone, its encircling wall,
through which admittance was gained
BY large and stoutly built gate; it
stood in the midst of the wood, witt
ngeworn trees enclosing its veteran
outline on every side.
From its eastern window you might
obtain a glimpse ofthe Scuylkill waves
while large easement in the SOUTH
ern front commanded view Of the
winding road, as il sunk out of view,
under the shade Of thickly clustered
boughs. into deep hollow, not more
than one hundred yards from the man
sion.
Here, from the southern easements
on one Of those balmyssummer days
which look in upon the dreary autumn
towards the close of November, FAR
mer's danther was gazing, with dila-
ting eyes and half-clapsec hands.
Well might she gaze earnestly to
the south, and listen with painful in
tensity for the slightest sound! Her
brothers were away with the army Of
Washington, and her father, grim
old veteran,-he stood six feet and
three inches in his stockings--who
had manifested his love for the red
coat invaders, in many a desperate
contest, had that morning left her a.
lone in the old mansion, alone in this
small chamber, in charge of some
ammunition intended for band Of
brave farmers, about to join the hosts
Of freedom. Even as she stood there
gazing out a southern window, a faint
glimpse Of sunlight, from the faded
leaves above, pouring over her mild
face, shaded by clustering brown hair,
there, not ten PAGES from her side,
we're seven loaded rifles and keg of
powder.
Leaning from the easement, she lis.
tened with every nerve quivering with
suspense, to the shouts Of combatants,
the hurried tread of armed men echo
ing from the south.
There was something very beauti-
ful in that picture! The form Of the
young girl framed by the square mas
sive window, the contrast between
the rough timbers, and that rounded
face, the lips parting, the hazel eye
dilating, and the cheek warming and
flushing, with hope and fear; there
was something very beautiful in that
picture, a young girl leaning from the
wiadow of an old mansion, with her
brown hair, waving in glossy masses
around her face!
Suddenly the shouts to the south
grew nearer, and then, emerging from
the deep hollow, there came an old
man, running at full speed, yet every
few PAGES, turning round 10 fire the
rifle, which he loaded as he ran. He
was pursued by "A party of ten or
more British soldiers, who came rush
ing on, their bayonets fixed, as if to
strike their victim down, ere he ad-
vanced ten PAGES nearer the house.
On and on the old man came, while
his daugher, quivering with suspense,
hung, leaning from the window;-he
reaches the backhouse gate-look
He is sourrounded, their muskets are
levelled at bic head. he is down, down