The Republican journal., 1873-11-06
An Old Woman's "Reminiscences.

| Bret Harte writes to the Tribune a pleas
ant letter about an old woman he met at
Morristown, N. j., who remembered
| Washington, but had the Father of his
| country strangely mixed up in her mind
with one Perkins, a worthy farmer Here
are two striking anecdotes of revolutions
AIRY times which the writer gathered from
the old lady
In the little field beyond, where the
pioW still farms up musket balls and car
fridge boxes, took place one of those IT.
regular skirmishes between the militia
men and Knyphausen's stragglers that
made the retreat historical 4 Hessian
soldier, wounded i'll both legs and utterly
| helpless, dragged himself to the cover OF
hazel copse and lay there hidden for
two days. On the third day, maddened
by thirst, he managed to creep to the rail
fence OF an adjoining farm house, but
found himself unable to mount il OF
pass through. There was no one in the
house but little girl of six or seven
years. He called to her and in faint voice
asked for water She returned to the
house, as if to comply with his request,
but mounting a chair took down from the
chimney Il heavily loaded 'Queen Anne"
| musket, and going to the door, took de-
lberate aim at the helpless intruder and
fired The man fell back dead without Il
groan. She replaced the musket, and re-
turning to the fence, covered the body
with boughs and leaves until ii was hidden
Two or three days after she related the
occurrence in a careless causual way. and
leading the way to the fence, with piece
Of bread and butter in her guileless little
fingers. pointed out the result Of her sim
pie unsophisticated effort The Hessian
was decently buried but | could not find
out what became of the little girl Nobody
seemed to remember | trust that in after
years she was happily marricd-that no
jersey Lovelace attempted to trihe with a
heart whose impulses We're SO prompt
and whose purposes were so sincere. They
did not seem to know if she had married
OF not Yet it does not seem probable
that such simplicity of conception, frank
ness Of expression and dettness of cXecu-
ton were lost to posterity, or that they
failed in their time and season to give
flavor to the domestic felicity OF the peri
cd, Beyond this, the story perhaps has
little valne-eycapt as RI oti5ct t0 the
usual anecdotes Of Hessian atrocity. X #
1t was Il terrible night that Winters
night when she and the century were
Young together. The sun was lost at
three o'clock; the snowy night came down
like white sheet that Tapped around the
house. beat at the windows with its edges
and at last wrapped it in a close embrace.
In the middle of the night they thought
they heard above the wind a voice CRYING
"Christus. Christus.' in a foreign tongue
They opened the door--no easy task in
the north wind that pressed it, strong
shoulders against it but nothing was to be
seen but the drifting snow The morning
aawned on fences hidden, and landscape
changed and obliterated with drift Dur
ing the day they again heard the cry of
"Christus y this time faint and hidden
like Il child'> voice. They searched in
vain the driftcd snow hid its secret. On
the third day they broke q path 10 the
fence, and then they heard the cry distinct
y. Digging down they found the body Of
a man-a Spanish sailor, dark bearded,
with earrings in his ears. As they stood
gazing down At his cold and pUlselee~
figure, the cry Of ''Christus again rose
upon the wintry' air, and they turned and
fled in Superstitiou9 terror 10 the house
And then one of the children hOldcr than
the rest, knelt down and opened the dead
mans pea jacket and found-what think
you pa little blue and green parrot nest
ling against his breast 1t was the bird
that had echoed mechanically the last
despairing cry Of the life that was given
to save it. Ii was the bird that ever after
amid outiandiSh oaths and wilder sailor
song, that fear shocked the pure ears of
lis gentle mistress and brought scandal
into Jerseys, still retained that one weird
and mOlumtlll cry