rrible 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 Chatelaine 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, a