The Story of a Summer / Or, Journal Leaves from Chappaqua

by Cecilia Pauline Cleveland

Upon hearing these words the man left very quickly, and never returned again to annoy her. In relating this incident to me, Gabrielle said:

"Of course I knew perfectly well that I would find no pistol upon the bureau, but I had been too well trained by mamma to show the slightest surprise, and promptly went upstairs in quest of imaginary firearms."

But this exhibition of cool courage paled in contrast with the true heroism of Aunt Mary displayed at the time of the terrible anti-draft riots in July, 1863. Living in the retirement of the woods, she was not in the habit of going down to the village or associating with the neighbors; consequently, she was rarely informed upon the local news. She wondered that no letters or papers had arrived for a day or two, but merely supposing that some accident upon the road had delayed the mails, she went about her ordinary occupations, perfectly unconscious of the peril she was in. Finally, Mr. Quinby, a Quaker neighbor, came to the house by a long circuit, and informed her that a mob of about three hundred men, who had collected from Sing Sing and other parts of the country, were drinking at the tavern, and threatening to sack "Greeley's house," and hang the family to the nearest trees. It was at the risk of his life that Mr. Quinby had come to warn Aunt Mary, and he implored her to escape as quickly as possible, and offered to conceal her and the children in his house.

Aunt Mary did not shriek or fall down in a fainting fit upon learning that hundreds of desperate men were threatening her life. Although she had been very ill and was still weak, perfectly cool and collected, she considered what was best to be done. Her husband was in New York, and of the dozen or so Irish laborers employed upon the place, two or three had already been seen drinking amicably with the rioters, and the others, as well as the Irish servant, she feared to trust Clark, the overseer, a very competent Englishman, was an excellent shot; but what could one man do against three hundred? As for saving herself by deserting her house, Aunt Mary scorned to do it; but immediately devised a plan that reminds one of the heroism of a Dame Châtelaine of the Middle Ages.

First of all, the valuables were to be moved, but without exciting the suspicions of the servant or workmen, as they might inform the rioters. The men were accordingly sent off to a distant part of the farm to work, and the maid kept busy, while twelve trunks were lowered into a wagon standing at the back of the house. Mr. Quinby immediately covered them with hay, and drove to his own house, where he stored them until the trouble should be over, and then sent his son back to help the family.

To Gabrielle's surprise, her mother and Ida now appeared in very voluminous and housewifely looking aprons, and were constantly going up and down stairs. At last an untimely draught blew Aunt Mary's apron aside, and Gabrielle, who had not been informed of the danger, caught a glimpse of the picture of the Archangel Gabriel. All of the pictures and pieces of sculpture were then removed to a little hut in the orchard near the stables, built in the side of a hillock, half under ground, and quite overgrown by vines; and when both pictures and the precious books were safely out of the house Aunt Mary felt that she could breathe. By that time Clark had returned from Sing Sing, where he had purchased a large amount of gunpowder by Aunt Mary's direction. This he arranged in a train from the house to a distant point, and the preparations were then completed. When the rioters should come Aunt Mary was to speak to them from the balcony and warn them to go away, and in the meantime Mr. Quinby and Clark were to take the children out of the house by the back window, which was but a step to the top of a low woodshed, from which they could easily get to the ground. Then, while the rioters were storming the barricaded doors, Aunt Mary was to make her escape, and when she and the children were at a safe distance a match was to be applied to the gunpowder, blowing up alike house and rioters.

Mr. Quinby, being a Quaker, had looked on reluctantly while the mine was being laid, and when he had done all he could to help Aunt Mary, he returned to the tavern to see the state of affairs there. He found the mob still drinking, and uttering horrible threats against the family. His conscience then obliged him to give the wretches a hint of the doom that awaited them, ending with these words:

"Heed my warning, my brethren; Horace Greeley is a peace man, but Mary Greeley will fight to the last!"

After dark, the rioters came to the gates and howled, and uttered threats, but dared not approach very close to the fortress armed by a sick woman and two children; and when weary of exercising their lungs went peacefully away. Meantime, Aunt Mary, being fatigued by the exertions of the day, laid down, Ida said, when everything was in readiness to meet the rioters, and slept peacefully till morning.