Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 June 1876 — TWO BRAVE WOMEN. [ARTICLE]

TWO BRAVE WOMEN.

You know there is a building on the Centennial grounds designed expressly for the exhibition of woman’s work, to show what women have done and can do. Now lam going to tell you what two voung women tfid for their country 100 years ago—a true story which deserves to be better known than it is, and which will have no record in the Woman’s Department of the Centennial. But first let us get out the map and find the old town of Machias— Majait the French called it—in the eastern part of Maine. More than two centuries ago this place was well known to English and French adventurers, and was the scene of many bitter quarrels between them. It was first settled by the French, who gave all that part of Maine the beautiful name of Acadia. Soon after the battle of Lexington, which you remember was fought on the 19th of April, 1775, a certain Capt. Jones, of Boston, arrived at Machias with his two sloops. He was in the habit of “trading” with the Machias people; that is, exchanging the goods ana provisions he carried there for lumber. This time he did not come alone, but was accompanied by an armed schooner, and he was careftil not to land his goods till the people agreed to trade with him as usual. Probably this very caution made them suspicious; and then it was not pleasant to see a British cutter anchored in theirriver. They knew that lumber was just what the Royal troops needed for their barracks; the affair at Lexington had aroused all their Satriotic ardor; and they determined that apt. Jones should never return to Boston with his vessels. To understand what this decision cost them, we must remember that the settlers were wholly dependent on “lumbering” lor support. To be sure,, the men did not have to make long journeys on their sleds into the forests and there camp out for the winter, as the lumbermen of Maine do now. Every year these logging parties go merrily off to their rough life in the woods, at night sleeping on spruce boughs laid upon the floor of the camp, their feet turned to a roaring fire, with sometimes wolves to serenade their si umbers; living largely on pork and molasses, frying bushels of doughnuts at a time, boiling their tea in great tei-kettles, and having rather a jolly time of it, especially when their townsmen go to make them a visit, as they sometimes do.

- But then there were woods everywhere about the settlement, whioh was at a great distance from any large town; and as there were no roads, the only way to get relief in a time of need was by water, and this way could be easily cut off by an enemy. Except a scanty supply of potatoes, no vegetables were raised there; and the people owned very few cows, and only enough oxen to haul lumber in winter. Many families often had nothing but clams to eat for weeks at a time, and when Capt. Jones’s sloops arrived there were no t enough provisions in the township to last three weeks. But rather than let King George’s troops have any of their lumber, these destitute people made up their minds to starve. So they agreed to take possession of the sloops and of the “ Margaretta” also, the story of whose capture has been told too often to repeat here. A company of volunteers was organized on Sunday, the 11th of June,* but only a few charges of powder and ball could be mustered for twenty fowling-pieces. Besides these, they had only thirteen pitchforks and ten or twelve axes. Theafe weapons seem barbarous enough to us; and you remember the red-coats thought so, too, and longed for foemen worthy of their steel when they saw our rustic soldiery. But they found afterward that a brave heart and steady purpose were more than a match for the deadliest firearms. There was not much time to talk the matter over, and a man was quickly sent to Jonesboro, a settlement some sixteen miles distant, for ammunition. But after this messenger reached his destination he actually refused to return! Very likely he felt tired after his long walk through the woods, aud his courage gave out. As there was no other man to take his place, all the Jones boro men having gone to Machias that very day to assist in the capture of the vessels, no wonder the women were filled with indignation at this treachery, and set to work to see what they could do. It always happens that where there’s a will there’s a way; and Hannah Weston, a young bride of seventeen, whose husband and brothers were among the volunteers, went round to the various houses in the settlement and collected all the powder, lead and pewter spoons she could find. Then she aud her sister Rebecca, who was only two years older, determined to carry the ammunitibH to Maehias them' selves. They started on their rough tramp Monday morning, with about forty pounds of powder and lead, enough bread and meat to last two days, and a small hatchet. All the women ana children gathered to see them off; meantime the one man in the settlement, tho recreant messenger, was hiding in the woods for fear of the “Britishers”! We may be sure that his behavior earned the bitter contempt of the women who were left behind, and that they did not treat him very tenderly when he made himself visible. You see there were cowards even in those brave days. When half the toilsome journey was over, Rebecca’s strength failed, and Mrs. Weston relieved her of her burden, carrying the whole load herself the rest of Ihe way. There was no road, and indeed no path, through the dense pine forests. But the men who passed through the woods the day before had “ spotted” a tree here and there, and these faint marks were our heroines’ only guides through the wilderness. When they lost their way, which happened to them more than once, they sat down on the trunk of some fallen tree to rest and refresh themselves with iood, and then kept bravely on. After wandering several miles out of their way, they at length reached the Machias River, and decided to follow its course down to the settlement. As the Indians were often seen »n the river in canoes, and frequented its banks for game, our travelers kept at a safe distance from the stream. But there was little to fear from the red men; and indeed nothing saved Machias in those stormy days hut the friendliness of the Indians. After dusk, after crossing brooks and wading through muddy swamps, they came to the foot of a high hill, and, not knowing where they were, threw themselves wearily down to rest. There in the gathering twilight they heard the moum-

ful owls hooting, and the distant barking of wolves. At length Mrs. Weston, picking up a stout stick for a cane, climbed the hill alone, and from the top joyfully discovered the houses of Machias. Tying her handkerchief to a bush, that she might again find the spot, she hastened back to Rebecca. But the tired girl had fallen into a heavy sleep, and it was only after a vigorous shaking that her sister was able to arouse her. They arrived at Machias before dark, completely exhausted, with their clothes half torn from them, and learned that the Margaretta had already been captured. However, they were so glad to hear the good news that they did not regret what they had done, ana though the ammunition was not needed then, it proved very useful when the British afterward attacked the town. The next day, to show that their services were appreciated, the Committee of Safety made the two brave women a present of twelve yards of camlet, worth about eight dollars; and thiß was considered at that time a large sum. Two dresses were made of this cloth, and fifty years afterward a fragment of her camlet gown was carefully preserved by Mrs. Weston, as a memento of her perilous journey. A great many years after this, when Mrs. Weston must have been nearly eighty years old, her son, who is still living in Jonesboro, went to a lawyer in Machias (from whose lips I had the story), told him about his mother’s adventure, and asked him to get a pension for her from the Government This could not be done, for the law gave no pensions to women unless they were soldiers’ widows; but surely this heroine of the Revolution deserved a pension. She lived to be nearly 100 years old, and when she was ninetyfive she carded wool, spun the yarn, and knit it into a pair of stockings, without the aid of glasses, to be exhibited at the World’s Fair in New York. It is interesting to know that this woman was a descendant of the famous Mrs. Dustan, who was taken captive by the Indians at Haverhill, Mass., in 1697, and whose thrilling story is familiar to all students of American history. So it is very likely, as her friends have suggested, that Hannah Weston may have inherited some of her pluck and fortitude from her great-grandmother.— Mary P. Thacker , in Christian Union.