  Far rung the groves and gleamed the midnight grass, With flambeau, javelin and naked arm; As warriors wheeled their culverins of brass, Sprung from the woods a bold athletic mass, Whom virtue fires and liberty combines. Campbell. Such is the power of mighty love. Dryden. Early in the evening of the third day of July, 1778—the date of the memorable Wyoming massacre—Mrs. Mary Gould, wife of James Gould, with the other females remaining in the village of Wyoming, sought safety in the fort. In the haste and confusion attending this act, she left a boy of hers about four years old, behind. Obeying the instincts of a mother, and turning a deaf ear to the admonitions of friends, she started off on a perilous search for the missing one. It was dark; she was alone, and the foe was lurking around; but the agonies of death could not exceed her agonies of suspense; so she hastened on. She traversed the fields which, but a few hours before, "Were trampled by the hurrying crowd;" where "—fiery hearts and armed hands Encountered in the battle cloud," and where unarmed hands were now resting on cold and motionless hearts. After a search of between one and two hours, she found her child on the bank of the river, sporting with a little band of playmates. Clasping the jewel in her arms, she hurried back and reached the fort in safety. |
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