The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1858-09-11
From Peterson's Magazine.
A Heroine of ZIG.
BY MRS. n. A. DAVIDSON.

breaks upon the ear with mopetonous reg
ularity. They are making tracks for rail
road in this old town. am not pleased
with the " improvement" as some call it.
for pleasant farmhouse and its surround
ing fields that sloped from high and undu
lating hills, have vanished forever before its
nod
The great genius Of enterprise, with his
ugly sheaes Of commerce, Is chopping at the
the poor wings Of poetry and romance, till
fear, by and by, they will have only to flap
along tho ground, their ETHEREAL faculties
chained down to stock taking and invoices.
am sorry the house is gone, for there
are some recollections connected with its
history, for the sake Of which it would be
pleasant, could it. have been spared. An
! old red farm house, surrounded by fields OF
waving grain aud corn, in the autumn time,
and overhung by various fruit trees, golden
with the fullness of time, is a sight Of pic
tureesque beauty in a rich valley, especially
| if fine old mountain looms up in the back
/ ground, or a deep of forrest trees stretches
away into tho clear, mellow atmosphere be.
yond.
| In that one before US, q am speaking now
as if it stood in the sold spot the widow Of
noble Captain Pisrpent lived some twenty
years age. The lady was fine specimen
OF an old time women; dignified, even com
rnanding i'll manner, with fresh bloom up
on her cheek, a finely moulded forehead,
and deep, earnest expression in her yet
bright eye.
She was a woman OF refined and cultiva-
ted intellectual powers, a woman who in her
youth had known no stint of wealth; whose
mind was stored with clasic lore; who had
never, till she emgrated to the wiIderner.
ness of the new world, soiled her W hite fin
gers with even household work.
Father and husband were both dead. The
bones of the former repossd in a far country
beneath a marble monument; the latter had
now slept two years in the little burying
beside the wooded church in sight Of the
red farm house, and q small grey stone
marked the spot where his ashes mingled
with the dust.
one day, during the hardes. campaign of
our sturdy soldiers, Madam Pierpont was
alone at the farm. Pomp, negro servant,
had gone Oh some errand which would de.
tain him till night, and Alex, the hired man
had wounded his hand in the morning with
an axe, SO that he was quit. disabled, and
was obliged to return to his home, about a
mile distant, which, by the way, was the
nearest homestead to the old farm house
The widows four brave sons, of ages va
rying from eighteen to twenty-six, had
started but two days previous TO the field OF
their country's battle.
While the widow realized that in all prob
ability some, perhaps all Of her treasures
would be sinitten by the ruthless hand Of
war, her check was still uRblauched, and
holy hope sat in the reposc OF her beauti-
ful features. Only now and then she turned
I 10 open the bible before her, and read few
, consoling passages and straightway resun'd
her work with an enduring smile. Alb,
patriotism found and an enduring home in
many such gentle heart.
Suddenly from the distance, came a
sound as Of the ,rampling Of horses feet, and
i great cloud of smoke betokened the ap-
proach ot travellers hurrying to their desti-
nation. The widow moved 70 the door,
and shading her eyes from the intense sun
shine, watched their progress They drew
nearer, and in another moment three horse
men drew up before the door.
They wore military cos:ome, and were all
fine looking men. The foremos, gentleman
far exceeded the others by his imposing fig
ure, and the greatness Of his countenancc.
1t needed no introduction to insure the wild
ow that this was George Washington
With that courtesy which ALWAYS cbarac-
terlzed him. he bowed gracefully to Madam
Pierpont, as he blandly asked if he could
find rest and refreshment.
"Our poor beasts" said one of the OIL
GERS patiing his smoking horse. /" would
they could be attended TO Immediately. Is
there a groom or servant about your
house madam, who could rub them down
and feed shem? will reward him liberal
ly."
We would ask no reward in this house
hold sir" replied the widow, if you will
lead them around they shall be cared for"
Make yourselves perfectly comfortable,
gentlemen" said the widow, land excuse
me while prepare your retreshment. You
must be hungry as well as fatigued."
In another minute the widow was in the
stable unsaddling the poor horses-work to
which she was not accustomed, but which
she nevertheless cculd do in time Of need,
being a woman ofestrong muscular frame
and great energy. She knew it must be
done by herself or not at all. AS for men
and horses, they were completely jaded out.
She with clean straw rubbed the animals
down with her own hands, led them into
the stalls, and prepared and gave them food.
After changing her dress the widow again
returned to the parlOr, where the officers
having unbuckled their soardS and donned
their caps, sat convcrsng together, evident
y enjoying good rest.
AS the widow stepped over the thresh-
old of the room, one Of the officers was re-
marking to his companions:
g. He was Of my best men, and as fine
looking young man as ever volunteered"
"Do you speak Of young Pierpont?" asked
another.
"Ycs, be fell yesterday, perced by three
bal!s-poor fellow, it was hard fate for
such a boy"
For one moment the cheek OF the woman
was blanched, the heart of the mother
shocked, but she spoke almost calmly as
she asked" Which one was it slr?"
Henry Pieapont, if am not mistaken
was he known to your"
Was he known to her? Oh! the agony of
that moment Henry! her noble first born;
he who had taken the place of the dead at
their board, and with gravity beyond his
ye1( carried out the plans his father left
unfinis ed!
And now his blue eyes were closed forev-
er-his bright locks soiled in the dust. Oh,
the thought was anguish! deathly faint
ness came over her, but she rallied with a
great effort, and said as calmly as before, as
she turned her whitening cheek away,
He was my son, sir"
I hey did not see her face as she walked
quickly and huridly from the room.
"Now God forgive me! feel aslf had
done a cowardly thing" murmersd the Off
Ger, while his lips grew pale with emotion.
looming here to partake of this woman's
hospitality, have cruelty stabbed her to
the heart" -I..-
"You are not to blame, my friend" said
Waship ston, in his deep tones, in when
was blended sudden pathos. Neither, II
l read her Alright, would she recall the cn'io
bravely fallen in his country's cause. ms
is no common woman-her very lace tens
of her souls's nobility. Mark me-when
next you see her she will De teariessi no
word of sorrow will issue from her lips. Our