Few women of modern times have more charmingly exhibited "the beauties of holiness" than Martha Laurens Ramsay, the wife of the historian of South Carolina. In his interesting series of lectures on the Christian graces, the Rev. Dr. Williams very happily refers to her habit of prayer, to illustrate the spirit of brotherly kindness as shown in the mutual intercession of brethren in the same church. "It is animating," he writes, "and yet, as contrasted with our present remissness, humiliating, to read how Baxter and his people held days of fasting and prayer for each other; or to turn to the pages which describe a Christian matron of the South, the wife of Ramsay and the daughter of Henry Laurens, President of the Continental Congress, praying over a list of her fellow-members, name by name, and remembering, to the best of her knowledge, the cares and wants of each before the throne of grace."[80]
Prior to her marriage, and whilst residing in France with her father, she received from him the handsome present of five hundred guineas. Appropriating a very small portion of this sum to her own use, with the bulk she purchased one hundred French Testaments—all to be found in the market—and distributed them amongst the destitute in Vigan and its vicinity, and organized a school there for the instruction of youth, constituting a fund sufficient to oblite rate its annual charges.
Mrs. Ramsay was remarkably economical of time, rising early and devoting every hour to some useful service; and of money, never indulging herself in any needless expenditure. This principle of economy was observed even at her funeral. She directed that it should be at her own private house; and that her coffin should be plain and without a plate. She died on the tenth of June, 1811.
COURAGE AND PRESENCE OF MIND OF
MARGARET SCHUYLER.
—Courage mounteth with occasion.
Shakspeare.
In August, 1781, when the abduction of General Schuyler from his house in the suburbs of Albany, was projected, and John Waltermeyer, the bold partizan of Joseph Bettys, led a motley and blood-thirsty band—tories, Canadians and Indians—in the daring undertaking, a daughter of the General acted so courageous and wise a part as to justify us in giving on outline sketch of the unsuccessful enterprise.
As the family sat in an open door, in the evening of a very sultry day, receiving information that a stranger was waiting at the back gate to see him, General Schuyler mistrusted, at once, that something was wrong; and, instead of repairing to the gate, he instantly closed and fastened the doors, and ran to his bed chamber for his arms. He then hurried his family into the third story, where he immediately discharged a pistol to arouse the careless guards, and afterwards others, to alarm, if possible, the inhabitants of the city. In hurrying up stairs, his wife overlooked her infant, which was asleep in the cradle; and she was about to descend, when the General warned her of the danger, and held her back. Seeing her mother's agony, a daughter named Margaret, rushed down stairs into the nursery, caught the child, and was about ascending, when a tomahawk flew past her, simply grazing her dress and slightly injuring it. Hurrying up a private stairway, she was met by Waltermeyer, who roughly exclaimed, "Wench! where is your master?" With remarkable presence of mind, she answered, "Gone to alarm the town." Fearing that such might be the case, Waltermeyer called his pilfering men, who were bagging plate in the dining hall, and began a consultation. Meanwhile the General was also thinking, and devising a stratagem by which to frighten away the kidnappers. He soon threw up a window, and, in the voice of an experienced commander, cried out, "Come on, my brave fellows; surround the house and secure the villains who are plundering." As he anticipated, the gang, hearing these words, snapped the thread of their consultation, and tested the nimbleness of their feet. The reports of the General's arms had alarmed the people of the city, and they came to the rescue just in season to be unneeded.