Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1856-11-05
The Hero Woman.
BY GEORGE LIPpARD.

The Hero Woman.
BY GEORGE LIPPARD.
In the shadows of the Wissahickon
woods, not more than a half q mile from
the Schu kill, there stood in the time of
the Revolution, a quaint old fabric, built
Of mingled logs and stone, and encircled
by a paiisade wall. 1t has been erected in
the earlier days of William Penn, perhaps
years before the great apostle of peace
first trod our shores, as a block-house in
tended as a defence againt the Indians.
Aud now it stood with its many roofs,
its numerous chimneys, its massive square
windows, its varied front of logs and stone,
its encircling wall, through which admit
lance was gained by a large and stoutly
built gate ; it stood in the midst of the
wood, with agc-worn trees enclosing its
veteran outline on every side.
From its western window you could OBJ
tain a glimpse of the Schuylkill waves,
while a large easement in the southern
front, commanded a view of the winding
road, as 1t sunk out of view, under the
shade of thickly clustered bougts, into a
deep hollow, not moro than enc hundred
yards from the mansion.
Here, from the southern easement, on
one of those balmy summer days which
look in upon the dreary autumn, toward
) the close of November, and a farmers
daughter was gazing with dilating eyes and
, half clasped hands.
| Well might she gaze earnestly to the
; south, and listen with painful intensity for
: the slightest sound {! Her brothers were
: away with the army of Washington, and
e her father, a grim old veteran-he stood
$ six feet three inches in his stockings-who
r had manifested his love for the red coat
r invaders in many a desperate encounter,
e had that morning left her alone in the old
y charge Of some am nrun1tron intenGed for a
W band of brave farmers, about to join the
is hosts of freedom. Even as she stood thee.
gazing out of the southern window, a faint
r, glimpse of sunlight from the faded leaves
n above, pouring over her mild face, shaded
e by clustering brown hair, there, not ter
h PAGES from her side, were seven lcadtt
t, rifles and a key of powder.
Leaning from the easement, she listened
IN with every nerve quivering with suspeDs'
OF to the shouts Of combatants, the hurrie(
n tread of armed men echoing from the south
10 There was something very beautiful il
ne that picture! The form of the young girl
framed by the square. massive window, tn
1g contrast between the rough timbers tina
Is enclosed her, and that rounded face, tn
of lips parting, the hazel eye dilating, an
IT. the check warming and flushing with hop
he and fear there was something very beau
ct, tiful in that picture-a young girl leanin
from the window of an old mansion, wit
in her brown hair waving in glossy masse
it, around her face.
IN Suddenly the shouts of the south gre,
IN nearer, and then, emerging from the dee
lot hollow, there came an old man, runnin
he at full speed, yet every few PAGES turnin
wn round to fire his rife, which he loaded :
he he ran. He was pursued by a party
he ten or more British soldiers, who cam
we rushing on with their b~ayonets fixed, as
to strike their victim down ere he advance
the ten PAGES nearer to the house.
ere On and on the old man came, while h
O.! daughter quivering with suspense, hur
md leaning from the window. He reaches ii
eed block-house gate-look He is surrou.
ess, ded-their muskets are lerelled at his he;
md he Is down, down at their feet, grappliI
up for his life But look again! lie dash
lon his foe aside; with one bold movement
an springs through. the gate; an instant al
nee it is locked the British soldiers, mad wi
lee rage, gaze upon the high wall of logs a,
de- stone, and vent their anger in drunk
owe curses.
ok Now look to window! Where the your
we girl stood a moment ago, quiyering wi
ON suspense, as she beheld her father stru
S of Cling for his life, now stands the old nj
t is himself, his brow bated, his arm graspi
to the rifle, while his grey hair, waves ba
ave from his wrinkled and blood daubed fac
!, is That was a fine picture of an old vetera
ave nerved for his last ight-a stout warri,
ook preparing for his death-struggle.
Death-struggle Yes for the old ma
mo- Isaac Wampole, had dealt too many bio
fed among the British soldiers. tricked, foilt
and and cheated them too often to escape NO
b of A few moments longer, and they would
wife reinforced by a strong party of refugee
s. the powder, the arms, in the old bloc
1ch- house, perhaps that daughter herself, '
re- to be their reward. There was s~carcely
fca- hope for the old man, and yet he had
lark termined to make a desperate fight.
pale awe must bluff off these ~rascals ~
less, said, with a grim smile, turning to
wing child. "Now, Bess, my girl, when I
|, as this rife, do you hand me another, and
pa on, until the whole eight shots are fir
n so That will keep them on the other side
that the wall, for a few moments at least, q
nope then we will have to trust to God for
rest!'
nful. Look down there, and see a hand stt
ma ing over the edge of the wall! The
tless man levels ms piece-tnat british sold
ylan- falls back with a crushed hand upon
had comrades heads.
Elves No longer quivering with suspense,