Heroines of the Frontier, Part 5, Women Who Escaped Captivity / Anna Rouse Philbrick

 

In the course of American history, we've heard many frontier stories of capture by Indians as settlers moved across the land. Some captives survived and remained for their lifetimes with their Native American captors, even forming familial bonds. Others' lives ended violently, and still some others escaped. There were also those who were released and returned to their homes. 

Some names that come to the forefront of these stories, and whose names I've linked to further articles or video for more in-depth looks at their stories, include:

• Fanny Kelly, captured by Sioux and freed five months later. Her story has been written about previously, here on the HHH blog, by Janalyn Voight. Find it at the link. 
• Olive Oatman, the famous eleven-year-old girl abducted in the desert southwest and widely recognized by the blue tattoos she received from her captors. Years later, she was ransomed by the U.S. army in a story both complex and tragic.
• Mary Draper Ingles the renowned Virginian woman taken by the Shawnee after the Draper's Meadows Massacre in 1755 escaped her captors and walked five or six hundred miles across rivers and over mountains to get home. Her story has been immortalized in books and movies.
• Jenny Wiley (born Jean "Jenny" Sellards), in a very sad and tragic story, attempted to fend off an attack by eleven Indians from four different tribes, while at her cabin in Kentucky, but she was eventually captured along with two of her children who did not survive capture. She was held for eleven months until she escaped to Harmon's Blockhouse in another county. 
• Amanda "Anna" Bell Brewster was violently attacked and carried away by a raiding band of Sioux while working in a field at her Kansas home. On the journey, she was traded for horses to a passing group of Cheyenne. After Lieutenant Colonel George A. Custer's 7th US Calvary attacked Chief Black Kettle's village, she was released by them.  
• Hannah Dustin was a Puritan woman from Massachusetts who is famously depicted in this painting, not only for her escape from her Abenaki captors during King William's War, but for killing and scalping her captors in the process. 

There are many other women who suffered captivity, some famous and some who merely line the annals of our nation's strange and often tragic history.

One such name you might not have heard of is that of Anna Rouse Philbrick, a young bride who went missing on her wedding day, when her home in the Michigan wilderness was attacked during Pontiac's War.

Here is her story as told in Woman on the Frontier, by William W. Fowler (Please note that this story is in the Public Domain, and it is written with some language we would not deem tasteful or would be considered biased today. I chose to leave it unedited or unredacted, in it's original form as the author intended.)

Anna Rouse Philbrick:

A STOLEN BRIDE

In the year 1762 the Great Pontiac, the Indian Napoleon of the Northwest, had his headquarters in a small secluded island at the opening of Lake St. Clair. Here he organized, with wonderful ability and secrecy, a wide-reaching conspiracy, having for its object the destruction of every English garrison and settlement in Michigan. His envoys, with blood-stained hatchets, had been despatched to the various Indian tribes of the region, and wherever these emblems of butchery had been accepted the savage hordes were gathering, and around their bale-fires in the midnight pantomimes of murder were concentrating their excitable natures into a burning focus which would light their path to carnage and rapine.

While these lurid clouds, charged with death and destruction, were gathering, unseen, about the heads of the adventurous pioneers, who had penetrated that beautiful region, a family of eastern settlers, named Rouse, arrived in the territory, and, disregarding the admonitions of the officers in the fort at Detroit, pushed on twenty miles farther west and planted themselves in the heart of one of those magnificent oak-openings which the Almighty seems to have designed as parks and pleasure-grounds for the sons and daughters of the forest.

Miss Anna Rouse, the only daughter of the family, had been betrothed before her departure from New York State to a young man named James Philbrick, who had afterward gone to fight the French and Indians. It was understood that upon his return he was to follow the Rouse family to Michigan, where, upon his arrival, the marriage was to take place.

In a few months young Philbrick reached the appointed place, and in the following week married Miss Rouse in the presence of a numerous assemblage of soldiers and settlers, who had come from the military posts and the nearest plantations to join in the festivities.

All was gladness and hilarity; the hospitality was bounteous, the company joyous, the bridegroom brave and manly, and the bride lovely as a wild rose. When the banquet was ready the guests trooped into the room where it was spread, and even the sentinels who had been posted beside the muskets in the door-yard, seeing no signs of prowling savages, had entered the house and were enjoying the feast. Scarcely had they abandoned their post when an ear-piercing war-whoop silenced in a moment the joyous sound of the revelers. The soldiers rushed to the door only to be shot down. A few succeeded in recovering their arms, and made a desperate fight. Meanwhile the savages battered down the doors, and leaped in at the windows. The bridegroom was shot, and left for dead, as he was assisting to conceal his bride, and a gigantic warrior, seizing the latter, bore her away into the darkness. After a short but terrific struggle, the savages were driven out of the house, but the defenders were so crippled by their losses and by the want of arms which the enemy had carried away, that it was judged best not to attempt to pursue the Indians, who had disappeared as suddenly as they came.

When the body of the bridegroom was lifted up it was discovered that his heart still beat, though but faintly. Restoratives were administered, and he slowly came back to life, and to the sad consciousness that all that could make life happy to him was gone forever.

The family soon after abandoned their new home and moved to Detroit, owing to the danger of fresh attacks from Pontiac and his confederates. Years rolled away; young Philbrick, as soon as he recovered from his wounds, took part in the stirring scenes of the war, and strove to forget, in turmoil and excitement, the loss of his fair young bride. But in vain. Her remembrance in the fray nerved his arm to strike, and steadied his eye to launch the bullet at the heart of the hated foes who had bereft him of his dearest treasure; and in the stillness of the night his imagination pictured her, the cruel victim of her barbarous captors.

Peace came in 1763, and he then learned that she had been carried to Canada. He hastened down the St. Lawrence and passed from settlement to settlement, but could gain no tidings of her. After two years, spent in unavailing search, he came back a sad and almost broken-hearted man.

Her image, as she appeared when last he saw her, all radiant in youth and beauty, haunted his waking hours, and in his dreams she was with him as a visible presence. Months, years rolled away; he gave her up as dead, but he did not forget his long-lost bride.

One summer's day, while sitting in his cabin in Michigan, in one of those beautiful natural parks, where he had chosen his abode, he heard a light step, and, looking up, saw his bride standing before him, beautiful still, but with a chastened beauty which told of years of separation and grief.

Her story was a long one. When she was borne away from the marriage feast by her savage captor, she was seen by an old squaw, the wife of a famous chief who had just lost her own daughter, and being attracted by the beauty of Miss Rouse, she protected her from violence, and finally adopted her. Twice she escaped, but was recaptured. The old squaw afterwards took her a thousand miles into the wilderness, and watched her with the ferocious tenderness that the tigress shows for her young. At length, after nearly six years, her Indian mother died. She succeeded then in making her escape, traveled four hundred miles on foot, reached the St. Lawrence, and after passing through great perils and hardships, arrived at Detroit. There she soon found friends, who relieved her wants and conveyed her to her husband, whom she had remembered with fondness and loved with constancy during all the weary years of her captivity. 

William Worthington Fowler. Woman on the American Frontier / A Valuable and Authentic History of the Heroism, Adventures, Privations, Captivities, Trials, and Noble Lives and Deaths of the "Pioneer Mothers of the Republic" (Kindle Location 2959). Kindle Edition.

 

Coming November 1st, from Barbour Fiction!

Courting the Country Preacher:

Four Stories of Faith, Hope. . .and Falling in Love

About the Collection

Being a preacher in the countryside is not for the faint of heart nor faith. Four inexperienced preachers face a myriad of challenges including those who figure a man of the cloth needs a wife. Can they meet the expectations of "helpful" congregants and be true to their hearts? 

Convincing the Circuit Preacher by Carolyn Miller, Australia, 1863

Mail Order Minister by Kari Trumbo, South Dakota, 1889

The Mountie's Rival by Angela K. Couch, Canada, 1907

The Angel and the Sky Pilot by Naomi Musch, Minnesota, 1910

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Heroines of the Frontier, Part 4 – Women Who Ventured Alone / The Adventure and Romance of Mrs. Elizabeth Haddon Estaugh

Throughout American history, women, along with their husbands and families, have forged their way across the continent, over raging rivers and through vast woods, across blustery prairies and beneath scorching desert winds. Yet, seldom did they decide to embark on such journeys alone. That drive and desire belongs only to those courageous women who longed for a different future and to discover what the unknown world might offer them as individuals.

Such was the character and fortitude of Elizabeth Haddon Estaugh. First-born of a wealthy and well-educated but humble Quaker, John Haddon of London, and educated in England herself, Elizabeth grew up nurturing a dream of coming to the wilds of America, planted by her father who, in 1698, purchased 500 acres from a Society Friend in the wilderness of what was termed “West Jersey”. Though he never came to view his property himself, Elizabeth became absorbed, even as a child, with the desire to settle in the new country she heard so much of from her Quaker community and those who went there carrying the Gospel.

Legend has it that her father, who made his living as a blacksmith by trade but who had preached and attracted some attention while in London, later had William Penn as a guest at his dinner table. Although Elizabeth would have been too young to join the conversation, being only about fourteen at the time, something in the discourse or conversation that followed must have enticed her even more with thoughts of what the new land had to offer.

English real estate entrepreneur, philosopher, early Quaker and founder of the Province of Pennsylvania (1644-1718) 18th Century illustration, Wikipedia Commons

At seventeen, Elizabeth joined the Quaker sect, and with energy and a practical mind began to set her thoughts toward America with greater earnest. However, her father, for business reasons, determined to remain in England.

Elizabeth was disappointed, ardently desiring to join the Quakers who had gone to reach the Indians, to find prosperity and freedom in this great land, and to join in their labors with them. When her father then offered the land tract to any relative who would settle it on his behalf, she pressed her own suit to go pioneering in the far-off wilderness in his stead. Sympathizing with what she convinced him was her calling, he finally gave way. 

In the spring of 1700, when she was about twenty-one years of age, Elizabeth boarded a two-masted ship on the Thames. She was accompanied by a poor widow known for her good sense and discretion as her housekeeper, and two trustworthy men-servants of the Society of Friends. Weeks later, they landed in the hamlet of Philadelphia.

The Haddon land tract lay in an almost unbroken wilderness, where almost nine miles of rivers and dense forest separated the diminutive port city from the place her future home lay. To someone less brave (and perhaps youthful) the prospects of forging her way there and then taming this land might have appeared doleful. But to Elizabeth, even after enduring the travails of an ocean voyage and seeing the largeness of the task before her, she was no less purposeful and determined. She fully accepted the loneliness and inconveniences she must overcome to forge a new home and settlement in such circumstances.

Always too busy to spend time complaining, and daily trusting in her Heavenly Father’s hand, she became known for her graciousness, efficiency, and tirelessness. The Indians in the region trusted her to be truthful, just, and kind, and she, in turn, learned about natural medicines from them. Elizabeth eventually used her knowledge to aid men, women, and children for miles around. In the meantime, wherever she went, she gathered information on ways she might improve her farm, whether it was for better seeding of crops or increasing dairy production. In the meantime, her home became a universal layover for Friends traveling to the Quaker meeting house in Newtown and as a respite for other weary travelers who found themselves at her door.

Such is how she became more thoroughly acquainted with a minister by the name of John Estaugh. With several other Friends, his sleigh approached her home on a brisk winter’s evening. She had met Mr. Estaugh once before, years earlier in London when he preached there, and she was still a child. Now here was the man himself, seeking respite. She welcomed him and his companions in from the cold.

As the snowstorm raged outside her door, they re-established their brief acquaintance from long ago. We can only imagine how that might conversation might have progressed—him speaking of his time in London, she of her family, and then the Lord’s calling on each of their lives—not to mention what brought them both to America.

The next day, the men worked on clearing a path through the snow, and as Elizabeth was preparing to visit her patients, John asked if he might accompany her in her ministrations. In that event, as John's compassionate nature exhibited itself in the spiritual comfort he offered to the people in her care, she saw him in a more attractive way than ever before. They spent several more days in united efforts together, becoming more thoroughly acquainted as the time passed. But soon he and his friends departed. Then in May, he and some Friends passed by her farm again as they traveled to their quarterly meeting in Salem.

It has been suggested that John might have been a bit slow or awkward at courtship. We don’t know for sure, but for whatever reason he seemed reticent, Elizabeth soon took matters into her own hands regarding their friendship. As he prepared to leave again, she stated her case:

(The following is an unauthenticated conversation taken from William Worthington Fowler’s Woman on the American Frontier / A Valuable and Authentic History of the Heroism, Adventures, Privations, Captivities, Trials, and Noble Lives and Deaths of the "Pioneer Mothers of the Republic" (Kindle Locations 2659-2666). Kindle Edition."

“Friend John, I have a subject of importance on my mind, and one which nearly interests thee. I am strongly impressed that the Lord has sent thee to me as a partner for life, I tell thee my impression frankly, but not without calm and deep reflection, for matrimony is a holy relation, and should be entered into with all sobriety. If thou hast no light on the subject, wilt thou gather into the stillness and reverently listen to thy own inward revealings? Thou art to leave this part of the country to-morrow, and not knowing when I should see thee again, I felt moved to tell thee what lay upon my mind."

After schooling his surprise, he said, "This thought is new to me, Elizabeth, and I have no light thereon. Thy company has been right pleasant to me, and thy countenance ever reminds me of William Penn's title-page, 'Innocency with her open face.' I have seen thy kindness to the poor, and the wise management of thy household. I have observed, too, that thy warm-heartedness is tempered with a most excellent discretion, and that thy speech is ever sincere. Assuredly, such is the maiden I would ask of the Lord as a most precious gift; but I never thought of this connection with thee. I came to this country solely on a religious visit, and it might distract my mind to entertain this subject at present. When I have discharged the duties of my mission, we will speak further." "It is best so," rejoined the maiden, "but there is one thing disturbs my conscience. Thou hast spoken of my true speech; and yet, friend John, I have deceived thee a little, even now, while we conferred together on a subject so serious. I know not from what weakness the temptation came, but I will not hide it from thee. I allowed thee to suppose, just now, that I was fastening the girth of my horse securely; but, in plain truth, I was loosening the girth, John, that the saddle might slip, and give me an excuse to fall behind our friends; for I thought thou wouldst be kind enough to come and ask if I needed thy services." They spoke no further upon this topic; but when John Estaugh returned to England in July, he pressed her hand affectionately, as he said, "Farewell, Elizabeth: if it be the Lord's will I shall return to thee soon."

John Estaugh left for England for a short sojourn but, unable to contain his feelings for her, he returned again in September and made haste to Elizabeth’s farm. John Estaugh and Elizabeth Haddon were married forthwith at a Meeting of the Society of Friends without fanfare but for the presence of a few guests including some Indians known to them.

Their love story is immortalized in a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in his collection Tales of Wayside Inn.

Soon after their marriage, John became his father-in-law, John Haddon's, business agent in assuming the management of his property in America, which had increased by extensive purchases. The couple also eventually made three visits back to England to see her family, although her father never did set foot in America where his land purchases had drawn his eldest child.

Meanwhile, the farm Elizabeth started flourished and expanded. After being married for twelve years, the couple built a new home, a two-story brick abode within the limits of present Haddonfield.

Images from Find-a-Grave Memorial

Throughout her lifetime, while her husband continued his work in the caring for souls, sometimes taking him away from her for long periods of time, Elizabeth Haddon Estaugh continued to stretch out her hand to the poor and needy. It is said, “She was at once a guardian and minister of mercy to the settlement.”

She and John were happily married for forty years, and she survived another twenty years after his death which occurred in 1742 on the Island of Tortola where he was stricken by fever. (Benjamin Franklin later published one of John’s Gospel tracts.) At the end of Elizabeth’s own life, a published testimonial of the meeting of Haddonfield made these beautiful remarks about her life:

"She was endowed with great natural abilities, which, being sanctified by the Spirit of Christ, were much improved; whereby she became qualified to act in the affairs of the church, and was a serviceable member, having been clerk to the woman's meeting nearly fifty years, greatly to their satisfaction She was a sincere sympathizer with the afflicted; of a benevolent disposition, and in distributing to the poor, was desirous to do it in a way most profitable and durable to them, and, if possible, not to let the right hand know what the left did. Though in a state of affluence as to this world's wealth, she was an example of plainness and moderation. Her heart and house were open to her friends, whom to entertain seemed one of her greatest pleasures. Prudently cheerful and well knowing the value of friendship, she was careful not to wound it herself nor to encourage others in whispering supposed failings or weaknesses. Her last illness brought great bodily pain, which she bore with much calmness of mind and sweetness of spirit. She departed this life as one falling asleep, full of days, 'like unto a shock of corn fully ripe.'"

Photo by Thomas Anderson, Historical Marker Database

A memorial in Haddonfield, New Jersey bears the inscription:

In Memory of Elizabeth Haddon. Daughter of John Haddon of London. Wife of John Estaugh. She was Founder and Proprietor of Haddonfield N.J. Born 1680- Emigrated 1701. Married 1702 Died 1762. Buried near this tablet. Originator of the Friends Meeting here established in 1721. A woman remarkable for Resolution, Prudence, Charity

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Paint Me Althena is refreshed and updated!

Paint Me Althena

a Novel of Second Chances

Three years ago, Ava Day walked away from love. Convinced of her unworthiness to be the woman Ethan and their girls truly need, she’s searching for a new identity. Meanwhile, Ethan's star has risen in the art world, and he's found refuge in new faith and encouragement from a lovely widow. But when Ava's crooked path and a chance encounter lands her in Ethan's home again, her unleashed heart aches for what she lost. Now will conflict between her search for identity, Ethan's new faith, and others caught in the current, break the fragile safety net he offers?

Find out more!

Heroines of the Frontier, Part 3 - Women Who Survived Alone / Mrs. Frank Noble

Occasionally, while mulling over a story or plot idea, I have to ask myself, Is such a situation plausible? Could that have really happened? This is especially true when I'm writing within historical constructs. Yet during research, I find that the saying is very often true--facts are stranger than fiction. If not strange, then at least more extreme.

I have a penchant for stories about individuals who are fending for themselves or warding off danger in the wilderness. Whether it's a childhood classic like Sign of the Beaver or My Side of the Mountain, or a biography of Simon Kenton or Daniel Boone, the bravery that it took to face great peril and personal challenge against the odds of nature or foes, compels me like no other story. Are you that way?

Not the least of these are the stories about the women who found themselves alone and struggling for survival against the odds. We might think of a novel like Follow the River by James Alexander Thom based upon the true story of a woman captured by the Shawnee after the Draper's Meadow Massacre in 1755, as she escapes, pregnant and alone, through hundreds of miles of wild country. 

History is fraught with hazards women had to conquer as they braved settlement on the fringe of the frontier. And yes, the stories, though incredible, are so very plausible. Still, I wonder if I (or my novel characters) could have survived:

• Fighting off wild animals
• Warding off an enemy attack
• Keeping husband or children alive through devastating illness
• Facing starvation
• Building a shelter in a storm
• Finding the way home

Throughout history, women have been defenders, protectors, and even providers for their homes and families. 

Photo credit Bluesnap on Pixabay

Last month I wrote about Hannah Hendee, a woman who rescued her own children and those of other families by repeatedly fording a river and standing up to the enemy who'd borne them away. Here's another true story of resilience and perseverance that's nearly unimaginable, seemingly implausible, yet resides within the annals of history, and is probably not so very unusual.

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(From Woman on the Frontier, by William Worthington Fowler. Public Domain.)

Mrs. Frank Noble

Mrs. Frank Noble, in 1664, proved herself worthy of her surname. She and her husband, with four small children, had established themselves in a log-cabin eight miles from a settlement in New Hampshire, and now known as the town of Dover.

Their crops having turned out poorly that autumn, they were constrained to put themselves on short allowance, owing to the depth of the snow and the distance from the settlement. As long as Mr. Noble was well, he was able to procure game and kept their larder tolerably well stocked. But in mid-winter, being naturally of a delicate habit of body, he sickened, and in two weeks, in spite of the nursing and tireless care of his devoted wife, he died. The snow was six feet deep, and only a peck of musty corn and a bushel of potatoes were left as their winter supply. The fuel also was short, and most of the time Mrs. Noble could only keep herself and her children warm by huddling in the bedclothes on bundles of straw, in the loft which served them for a sleeping room. Below lay the corpse of Mr. Noble, frozen stiff. Famine and death stared them in the face. Two weeks passed and the supply of provisions was half gone. The heroic woman had tried to eke out her slender store, but the cries of her children were so piteous with hunger that while she denied herself, she gave her own portion to her babes, lulled them to sleep, and then sent up her petitions to Him who keeps the widow and the fatherless. She prayed, we may suppose, from her heart, for deliverance from her sore straits for food, for warmth, for the spring to come and the snow to melt, so that she might lay away the remains of her husband beneath the sod of the little clearing.

Every morning when she awoke, she looked out from the window of the loft. Nothing was to be seen but the white surface of the snow stretching away into the forest. One day the sun shone down warmly on the snow and melted its surface, and the next morning there was a crust which would bear her weight. She stepped out upon it and looked around her. She would then have walked eight miles to the settlement but she was worn out with anxiety and watching, and was weak from want of food. As she gazed wistfully toward the east, her ears caught the sound of a crashing among the boughs of the forest. She looked toward the spot from which it came and saw a dark object floundering in the snow. Looking more closely she saw it was a moose, with its horns entangled in the branches of a hemlock and buried to its flanks in the snow.

Photo by Madhu Shesharam on Unsplash

Hastening back to the cabin she seized her husband's gun, and loading it with buckshot, hurried out and killed the monstrous brute. Skilled in woodcraft, like most pioneer women, she skinned the animal and cutting it up bore the pieces to the cabin. Her first thought then was of her children, and after she had given them a hearty meal of the tender moose-flesh she partook of it herself, and then, refreshed and strengthened, she took the axe and cut a fresh supply of fuel. During the day a party came out from the settlement and supplied the wants of the stricken household. The body of the dead husband was borne to the settlement and laid in the graveyard beneath the snow.

Nothing daunted by this terrible experience, this heroic woman kept her frontier cabin and, with friendly aid from the settlers, continued to till her farm. In ten years, when her oldest boy had become a man, he and his brothers tilled two hundred acres of meadow land, most of it redeemed from the wilderness by the skill, strength, and industry of their noble mother. 

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When I read of such heroism on the frontier, I am awed. I doubt my own strength, yet I am inspired to stretch beyond my own limitations when I write stories of heroines in my novels. Isn't that what history teaches us to do and partly what fiction is for?

What are some books you've read (or written) lately that feature heroines in the wilderness?

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COURTING THE COUNTRY PREACHER

Four Stories of Faith, Hope. . .and Falling in Love

Every Preacher Needs a Wife, Right? Being a preacher in the countryside is not for the faint of heart nor faith. Four inexperienced preachers face a myriad of challenges including those who figure a man of the cloth needs a wife. Can they meet the expectations of "helpful" congregants and be true to their hearts?

Convincing the Circuit Preacher by Carolyn Miller Australia, 1863

Mail Order Minister by Kari Trumbo South Dakota, 1889

The Mountie's Rival by Angela K. Couch Canada, 1907

The Angel and the Sky Pilot by Naomi Musch Minnesota, 1910

Heroines of the Frontier, Part 2 – Women Who Dared / Hannah Hendee

Welcome to the second installment of my series featuring Heroines of the Frontier. America was built upon courage. Courage to come, settle, form government, and fight to keep it. Courage to simply survive. Many brave women—wives and daughters—carried that banner of courage and freedom, often alone. My current novel work-in-progress is based upon just such a woman. But for today, lets look at a few of those courageous women in the context of the Revolutionary War and Hannah Hendee in particular.

Frontier Raids

In the early days of colonization and settlement, men were often called away, whether to hunt for food, garner supplies, or to heed the call for military duty. Such was the case for Mrs. Hannah Hendee whose husband had been called away for military duty during the early days of settlement at Royalton, Vermont, while the young country was caught in the throes of revolution.

Royalton, situated near the Vermont–New Hampshire border, became the target of a raid in 1780, near the latter part of the Revolutionary War. Worried that the American colonists would push on into Canada with their ideas of independence, British forces along with 300 Mohawk and Wabanaki allies came down the White River raiding towns and farms along the way. After ravaging Royalton and burning houses, they continued on to destroy most of the homes in Sharon and Tunbridge.

Mrs. Hannah Hunter Hendee 

The British had offered their native allies a reward—payment for men and boys captured and taken to Canada. Over thirty men and boys were thus carried off in the raids, Mrs. Hannah Hendee’s son Michael among them. (Note: some historians say her name was spelled Handy, not Hendee.)

There is some conflicting history here. It’s noted in some sources that Hannah was working alone in the field when the attack occurred, and returned to find her child(ren) taken. Other, more recent updates of the story say that Hannah had taken her two children to hide in the woods, but that the Indians found them and carried off her son Michael. Whichever the case, Michael was indeed taken by the Indians, and Hannah was deeply grieved.

There was one British officer and six soldiers who led the Indian raid. When the American militia planned to attack and retrieve the hostages, the British warned that, should they attempt it, all of the captives would be killed. Thus, the militia backed down.

Hannah, however, would not be dissuaded. She turned her grief and fury into brave action. Rather than remain behind to mourn Michael’s loss, she gave lone pursuit.

The river near the place the raiders crossed was some one hundred yards wide and fairly deep. It is believed that Hannah waded that river.

The Handy (Hendee) Memorial in South Royalton

Let’s imagine for a moment. . .this momma, forging into the swirling waters, skirts sucking at her legs as she struggled for footing against the current. Her eyes like wildfire, her sobs turned to anger, her determination making her as fearless as a lioness. Her body shivers, but she doesn’t even notice as she pushes onward to face her foes so that she might gather Michael into her arms again.

Can you picture her climbing to the opposite bank, her soggy dress slapping against her shaking legs, her face white and jaw set, yet striding undaunted into the Indian encampment?

Around their campfire, warriors lurch to their feet brandishing weapons, and perhaps some of them even stride forward to seize her.

Then Hannah’s face pales further as she sees the many other children held captive, some bound beside their fathers and older brothers, some without anyone to comfort them, haunted by vivid memories of the slaughter and destruction from which they were carried.

Hannah raises her chin as she is taken to the commanding officer at the camp, one Lt. Richard Houghton—or perhaps he himself hears the ruckus and comes forward. Straightening her shoulders, she demands Michael’s return.

“He cannot survive a march to Canada,” she tells him. And then she sweeps a glance among the others with a cry. “His blood will be on your hands!”

Whatever else she tells him is lost to history, but her continual upbraiding is finally enough to convince the Lieutenant to free her son, and not her son only, but eventually nine children. (Another source says fifteen.)

Hannah grasps Michael and returns with him across the river. However, not content to save him alone, it is reported that she then returns for the other children, going back again and again, until by twos and threes, she has gained their freedom.

One telling says that on her final trip to the camp, a native man was so struck by her bravery that he offered to return her across the water on his back and that she accepted. Whether or not that happened, when she returned, Hannah took the recovered children back to their families.

The Hannah Hunter Hendee Medal

Throughout the course of history, women labored alone in all manner of conditions, and undertook the protection of home and children when attacked. Here's another account:

A man well in his eighties, whose father was in the army the entirety of the Revolutionary War, recounted his own experience as a child at home with his mother during the war. He said they lived far from neighbors, and they were poor. Winters were terrible, the snow lying so long and deep, it was difficult to cut or draw fuel from the woods or to get the corn to the mill when they had any. He recalled that his mother had a coffee mill in which she ground wheat for making course bread, for which they were thankful. At times, they went to bed with only a drink of molasses mixed in water for their supper.

He never heard his mother complain, but she toiled lovingly through the duration to keep them as fed and warm as her resources allowed.

When his father was permitted to return home for brief durations, he had little to leave for them. Yet, his mother would bid him a cheerful farewell and encouragement to not be anxious about them, for she would watch over the children day and night and would take care of the them. She didn’t mention the cold days or short meals, nor her hard work or concerns that the children would be clothed or fed. For she did not want to weaken his heart, reminding the children that a soldier’s life was hardest of all.

Such incidents and way of life as this man experienced occurred regularly during the America's colonial days and in the many contests and courses of history that followed. Some women forged alone with their children across the wilderness. Others strove for freedom on their own terms, which we shall see in a moment. Still others gave sons to served the cause, and shed their tears in private.

Here is a brief listing of some of the other heroines of the American Revolution who dared to stand against the odds:

Anne Bailey, who lived on the Virginia frontier and not only recruited volunteers for the militia, but became, herself, a scout and messenger, using wilderness skills to deliver important messages to outposts.

Margaret Cochran Corbin, Pennsylvanian, whose husband was a gunner – she cooked, washed, and mended for the soldiers. When her husband was killed, she took his place, was wounded, taken prisoner, and eventually released. She later received a pension from the U.S. government for her service.

Deborah Sampson Gannett, from Massachusetts, dressed as a man, enlisted, and served three years in the Colonial army. She performed scouts and raids, was eventually wounded, and thereupon her secret was discovered by a doctor. Deborah was given an honorable discharge.

Emily Geiger, only eighteen years old, was the daughter of a wealthy South Carolina farmer. She once rode fifty miles on horseback to deliver a message of warning to an American general. When she was stopped by the British to be searched, she swallowed the message, yet did succeed in her endeavor and helped save South Carolina from a British attack.

Nancy Morgan Hart, mother of one, was a no-nonsense woman in Georgia who spied on the British, captured a Tory, and when other Tories sought a meal at her home, she killed them. 

Lydia Barrington Darraugh was the cousin of a British officer, but her son fought for the Patriot cause. Lydia saved the American army after overhearing their plans to attack. She slipped away and trudged several miles through the snow to warn the army and save their lives.

Elizabeth (Betty) Zane lived at Fort Henry, Virginia which ran short of gunpowder when the British and Indians attacked. Under siege, and seeing their was little hope of rescue, she volunteered to leave the fort and procure more gunpowder. In her flight, she was shot at repeatedly, but finally escaped and was able to retrieve the gunpowder and save the fort.

Heroism of Miss Elizabeth Zane, Lithograph by Nagel and Weingaertner, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

The greatness of brave women such as these became part of the ever-moving drama of our country that cannot be underestimated.

If you missed last month’s Heroines of the Frontier post, you can find it here: Women of the Mayflower / Mary Brewster.  Come back next month on the 29th for part three of Heroines of the Frontier.

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A Tender Siege tells of the bravery of a Scottish man and Native American woman on the frontier during the French and Indian War. The story is part of The Highlanders collection. 

A Tender Siege

Pontiac’s War, August 1763: “I beg Ye to take me.” Wounded in battle in the American wilderness, Lachlan McRea of His Majesty’s 42nd Highlanders pleads with God, yearning to be reunited with his lost wife and child. As death hovers near, he is discovered by Wenonah, a native widow doing all she can to survive alone, while avoiding the attentions of a dangerous Shawnee warrior. In aiding one another, their perils increase. If Lachlan can let go of the woman he once loved, he might find healing for both body and soul.

Heroines of the Frontier, Part 1 - The Mayflower Women / Mrs. Mary Brewster

 

I've recently begun an early read of Shannon McNear's novel Virginia, the 4th in her "Daughters of the Lost Colony" series which releases this fall. Any novel that rings of early American history with wilderness settings always strikes a flame in the deep regions of my imagination, so I am vastly enjoying it. When I find a book that ignites that sweet spark, I'll often set aside whatever else I'm reading.

For me, that's because trying to imagine daily life then, and putting that into the context of a human life lived to its fullest, is a thing that can hardly be touched upon by dry, schoolish textbooks with their mere records of names, dates, battles, and documents. History brought to life, such as what we consume in historical fiction and historical narrative (non-fiction written in a story-like fashion that reconstructs period events) is raw, authentic, and satisfying. It gives us the sense of stepping back in time and walking in a specific pair of shoes belonging to someone who went before us. Reaching into history via historical fiction and narrative non-fiction provides ways to make us truly care about what people accomplished or failed to accomplish in history—often so deeply that we can't put the book down.

This is what brings me to a series of posts I want to share with you about heroines on the North American frontier. And by heroines, I'm not only referring to those women who made names for themselves in the annals of history, but the many women whose main achievement was to endure—to press forward while meeting with the obstacles of a treacherous wilderness and the challenges set before them of carving a life out of the forest. Often the challenge was simply to find food and shelter, to survive and overcome, but they faced it with determination, courage, and hope. I am also referring to all kinds of frontier living in which those heroines found themselves.

Perhaps, as we look at the lives of such enduring women, we'll be inspired to delve further and learn more about some of them or the era in which they lived, or we'll pick up a novel set in the period and sense their history coming to vivid life.

Perhaps we'll care about them as human beings who've led the way.

Mayflower, Cape Cod Canal (Image by John French from Pixabay)

The Mayflower Women

To kick off this series, let's look at the European women who came here on the Mayflower, the pilgrims who set out to find a new place where they could live and worship according to the precepts God had placed upon their hearts. The Pilgrims who arrived on the Mayflower could be divided into two groups:

*The Separatists who had had enough of England's royal family troubles and wished to sever ties with both Catholics and the Established Church. They moved initially to Holland and formed a congregation at Leiden in which they wished to live in a simpler style of faith community. Many of the Separatists came from affluent families and backgrounds and were men of learning, yet wanted something different for their future. Interesting to note: at least one of the Separatists, Mrs. Elizabeth Winslow (nee, Barker) may have initially emigrated to Holland on her own as a young single woman, having already been deeply engaged in non-conformist activities. She married John Winslow in Leiden in 1618.

*The Strangers, as they were called, were not part of the congregation of Separatists living in Leiden, Holland, but they joined their group that would eventually embark from Holland to the Americas in 1620. The Strangers made up more than half the Mayflower passengers. They included merchants, craftsmen, skilled workers as well as indentured servants, and three young orphans. They were common people, and about one-third of them were children. The Pilgrims realized that people of all stations and backgrounds would be crucial to the Colony's success.

Among the Mayflower passenger list, twenty-eight were women or girls, some listed as servants of separatist families, and some of them children. Six of the women were pregnant at the time they left Plymouth. Some of them birthed children that survived, and others experienced loss. Some of the women themselves didn't survive the voyage, and others died before leaving the ship while it was at anchor in Cape Cod. Yet, others went on to strive for a new life in the new land.

Pondering just this much, can you imagine embarking into the Great Unknown, leaving behind family and friends and, in some instances, your children, then crossing the wild Atlantic on a crowded ship, only to arrive in a foreign wilderness where it would be impossible to disembark for another two months? For many agonizing weeks, the women and children remained in the cramped and filthy quarters on the Mayflower, as the men explored the coast of Cape Cod looking for a suitable place for a settlement.

Can you also imagine how easily sickness and squalor might manifest, or how a young wife might feel about giving birth in such rough and unsanitary conditions without her husband nearby to offer reassurance? This is what these ladies faced and more obstacles besides.

A look at the life of one of the eldest Mayflower women, and one of only four adult women to survive the first year, gives us a glimpse of why all of them can be thought of as heroines of the New World frontier.

Robert Walter Weir - Embarkation of the Pilgrims - 1857 - Brooklyn Museum (Public Domain)

Mrs. Mary Brewster

Mrs. Mary Brewster was loved and respected by all. As a little girl, she grew up in Nottinghamshire, England, hardly imagining that, fifty years later, she would live across the far ocean where her days would be spent spending planting and harvesting corn, gathering berries in thickets, plucking geese and ducks, cleaning fish—all that she cooked over an open fire. Other days would be spent nursing the sick or tending the dying, and in many cases, burying the dead. No longer in a nice home in Europe, she would be sleeping in a bare house and washing her clothes by hand in a small brook near the village. No, to imagine something like that would have seemed fanciful—or possibly frightening.

Mary and her husband William had lived in a comfortable manor house in Scrooby, back in England. They had three children there. Weekly meetings of believers met to hold services in their home, until increasing pressure from the Church of England made it clear to the church leaders that the congregation would no longer be safe if they remained.

Not without its trials and complications, the Brewsters moved to Amsterdam and then with the congregation to Leiden. During their years there, Mary birthed three more children, one of whom died shortly after birth.

In 1616, the Brewsters began secretly printing and publishing a series of pamphlets that spoke against the errors of the Church of England. King James was outraged by the circulation of the booklets. He ordered an international manhunt for the printer. William Brewster took an assumed name for a while, and went into hiding to protect his wife and children.

All of this led to the Brewsters' final decision in 1620 to leave Leiden with those others planning to go, and set sail for the New World. While many elders remained behind, William and Mary, along with their two youngest boys, Love and Wrestling, took their places among the younger couples setting out for life in the wilderness of North America. Thankfully, Mary would eventually see her older children again when they came to the New World at a future time, yet when she left them, she trusted that if she would not see them again this side of the grave, she would meet them again eventually in heaven.

Being the oldest, most experienced lady in the colony, Mary likely gave much guidance to the younger women. She no doubt assisted at births such as that of Elizabeth Hopkins, one of the Strangers on the Mayflower, who gave birth to her son at sea. Elizabeth's infant boy was given the name Oceanus. Mary would also have aided Susannah White, one of the Separatist mothers, after the arrival of the ship at Cape Cod, as she gave birth to a healthy boy named Peregrine.

Mary, by necessity, would have become adept at helping with burials as well, since nearly half of the hundred Pilgrims who came on the Mayflower died the first year.

Even so, she didn't lose heart. After all the suffering and loss, Mary was one of only four adult European women living and present for the first Thanksgiving. Therefore, she also very likely both delegated and headed up the task of preparing the food for the three-day festival of thanking God for His goodness and provision in bringing those alive through the long, brutal, first seasons of survival in the wilderness colony.

A true heroine, Mary had endured the sickness, cold, hunger, and hardships. Her own husband became a living example Proverbs 31:28 which states that "her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her" for Bradford said she was one of those who “did all the homely and necessary offices which dainty and queasy stomachs cannot endure . . . and all this willingly and cheerfully.”

Mary welcomed many grandchildren into the world, and thousands of descendants called America their home. She passed to glory in 1627 at the age of 60.

Learn more about the Mayflower Story and see the interactive Passenger Map.

Next month we'll look at another type of heroine of the frontier:

Women Who Dared.

Deep in the northern wilderness, a new frontier is born!

1841 ~ Lumberman's daughter, Colette Palmer has always loved timber cruiser Manason Kade, even when she leaves Michigan to settle with her family in the Wisconsin wilderness. There, she grows into a woman and, when her heart is broken, makes her vow to another.

Logging enterprises collide as the territory nears statehood. In the turmoil, Manason and Colette meet again. Now, she will have to choose between her first love and her commitment to her marriage vows, while her dreams, her faith, and an empire in pine hang in the balance.

THE GREEN VEIL ~ EMPIRE IN PINE ~ BOOK ONE