The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1876-05-25
AN AMAzoN's RECEPTION.

AN A4uA1OA - A&1OA1 4AVAte
"Tryon is coming Tryon is comingl"
was the cry that blanched many cheek
in Connecticut in the month of July,
1879.
This news spreading like wildfre about
the towns of Fairfield and Norwalk, was
well calculated to excite alarm in
patriotic breasts, for Tryon was merci-
less invader, and wherever he went the
torch completed his work of destruction.
In the month of February of the year
Just written he had rayaged Kingsbridge
and Horseneck, and now, for the second
time, had entered the state.
His soldiers committed, under his very
eye, atrocities of the most shocking de-
scription; they plundered without dis
tinction; old and young, rich and poor
felt alike the merciless hands of the
kings man. East Haven, Fairfield and
Norwalk were reduced to ashes, and a
thousand acts of barbarous cruelty were
rerpetrated on the homeless patriots. A
force sufficient to check the advance of
the invader could not be raised in the
state. Connecticut's able bodied patriots
were absent in the army, and their homes
were as defenseless as the lions whelps
when the parents are away in search of
food.
Governor Tryon knew that he would
find Connecticut completely at his
mercy, and congratulated himself on the
easy conquest that invited him to her
shores. He succeeded in his errand of
devastation, and returned to his superiors
with victory in his hand. But he made
his name odious throughout North
America, and his memory execrable to
every patriot in the land.
Not far from Norwalk stood the plain
home of Barbara Bidlack, whose husband
was an artillerist doing duty under
Knox. She was large, muscular woman
whose strength was prodigious; it had
gained for her the singular sobriquet of
Mrs. Hercules" title of which she
was rather proud than otherwise. Her
features were rather inclined to coarse
ness, and physiognomist would have
concluded that there was Celtic blood in
her veins. As she had no children, she
was the sole occupant of her house, and
her nearest neighbor was ayoung woman
named Hagen who had lest her husband
at the battle of Brier Greek.
Mrs. Bidlack, who seldom exchanged
visits with the young widow, was not
aware of Tryon's second invasion until
he began to approach Norwalk. The
terror of the inhabitants, many of fwhom
were abandoning their homes, acquainted
her with the disastrous state of affairs,
and her eyes flashed fire when she ex-
claimed to the fugitives:
You may go, if you wish; but two
hundred such rascals as Governor Tryon
cannot frighten Barbara Bidlack one
inch from her home If the relocated
scoundreI enters my house he'll meet
with reception he'll never forget.
More than once she was urged TO fly,
but disdained with proud and defiant
curl of the lip, and awaited with eager
ness the arrival of the invaders.
She was soon treated to the sight of
Norwalk in flames, and saw the torch
applied to her neighbors' houses. But
the spectacle moved sher not; she did
not even barricade her door, nor suspend
for. a moment the performance of her
household duties. But all the time there
was an indignant CLEAN in her eyes, and
more than once she glanced at the old
musket which occupied one corner of her
kitchen.
1t was near the hour of noon one sultry
day of ] uly when Barbara Bidlack, about
to discuss the frugal meal she had pre-
pared, was startled by heavy footstep
Lifting her eyes from the steaming
meat that graced the little table, she be
held a British officer standing in the
door. His aspect did not frighten her il
the least, though she knew from his uni
form that he was a soldier of lofty rank
" Another plate, Mrs. Hercules" b,
commanded, in naughty tone, stridins
forward, and, at the same time, putting
his hand on the hilt of his sword, as if Il
frighten her.
She smiled derisiyely as she slowly ros
to her feet.
Who are you, sir ?"
am a man devilishly well know
hereabouts, and l dare say that tn
rebels will not soon forget me! My nam
is Tryonl"
Governor Tryon, the British rascal
the man VINO DuIns houses over WIDOWS
heads, and robs the babe of its cradle? ]
you are Governor Tryon / know you 70
the meanest villain that ever trod Ney
England soil"
Tryon's face grew crimson, bu
smothering his rage, he burst into
cruel laugh.
You are just the vixen l heard yo
werel" he exclaimed. "They call yo
Mrs. Hercules throughout this regior
and / must say you resemble the stabl
cleansing god in build. Where is you
husband ?"
"Under flag that wouldn't own yo
as defender !" was the reply.
He's rebel, then p said Tryon wit
a sneer.
Like his wifel He's soldier, toe
and not house burner"
Mrs. Hercules, / discover that m
J clemency is not recognized by the peopl
: of this state, and that my kings heart
supposed to contain no good. Why, m
dear woman, the existence of singl
house on the coast is monument {
King Georges mercy and mine But W