GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK
Philadelphia, November 1850

MRS. CASANA POWELL.

A HEROINE OF THE REVOLUTION.

BY J. FRED. SIMMONS.

WHILST the names of many of those patriotic women who figured conspicously during our Revolutionary struggle have been blazoned forth to the world, or assigned enviable places in the history of the "times that tried men's souls," the one whose name appears at the head of this simple narrative has been overlooked and apparently forgotten. This may, perhaps, be attributed to the fact that the deeds which she performed are unknown save to a limited number residing in the immediate vicinity of her birthplace.

Mrs. Powell was born in Halifax county, North Carolina, in the year 1764, and was the daughter of Richard Bishop. She cherished in her bosom a devotion to the cause of freedom as pure, ardent, and constant as that which illumined the heart of Washington himself, and her name deserves a place by the side of those of Mrs. Willie Jones, Mrs. Martha Bratton, and the host of heroines of those dark and gloomy times. Much of her history is yet unknown to the writer, but she was ever eager to aid the Whigs in whatever way she could, and regretted her being so far from the scene of active operations as to be unable to render her countrymen constant service. But I propose to narrate a single instance that has come to my knowledge of her daring and patriotism, which will at once serve to establish her reputation.

It will be remembered that, towards the close of the war, Colonel Tarleton passed through North Carolina. Owing to some cause not known, he spent two nights in Halifax county, one within the hospitable grove of Willie Jones, near the town of Halifax, and the other higher up the county, near "Quankey Chapel." Either because he was scarce of provisions and horses, or from a malicious desire to destroy the property of the American citizens who were opposed to British tyranny, he caught all the horses, cattle, hogs, and even fowls, that he could lay hands on, and destroyed or appropriated them to his own use. The male, and most of the female inhabitants of the county, fled from the approach of the British troops, and hid themselves in the swamps and forests adjacent; and when they passed through the upper part of the county, while every one else left the premises on which she lived, Mrs. Powell (then Miss Bishop) "stood her ground," and faced the foe fearlessly. But it would not do; they took the horses and cattle, and, among the former, a favorite pony of her own, and drove them off to the camp, which was about a mile distant. Young as she was, she determined to have her pony again, and, as she must necessarily go to the British camp, to go alone, if no one would accompany her. And alone she went on foot, at night, and without any weapon of defense, and in due time arrived at the camp.

By what means she managed to gain an audience with Tarleton is not known; but she appeared before him unannounced, and, raising herself erect, said-

"I have come to you, sir, to demand restoration of my property, which your knavish followers stole from my father's yard."

"Let me understand you, miss," replied Tarleton, taken completely by surprise.

"Well, sir," said she, "your roguish men in redcoats came to my father's yard about sundown and stole my pony, and I have walked here alone and unprotected to claim and demand him; and, sir, I must and will have him. I fear not your men; they are base and unprincipled enough to dare offer insult to an unprotected female; but their cowardly hearts will prevent their doing her bodily injury." And, just then, by the light of a camp fire, espying her own dear little pet pony at a little distance, she continued, "There, sir, is my horse. I shall mount him and ride peaceably home; and if you have any of the gentlemanly feeling within you, of which your men are totally destitute, or if you have any regard for their safety, you will see, sir, that I am not interrupted. But, before I go, I wish to say to you that he who can, and will not prevent this base and cowardly stealing from henroosts, stables, and barn-yards, is no better in my estimation than the mean, good-for-nothing, guilty wretches who do the dirty work with their own hands! Good night, sir." And, without waiting further, she took her pony uninterruptedly, and galloped safely home; for Tarleton was so much astounded that he ordered that she should be permitted to do as she did.

Mrs. Powell died in her native county, in 1840, after she had attained a green old age. One of her grandsons, William S. Parker, volunteered in the Mexican war, and died at Ceralvo, in Mexico. Another, Richard B. Parker, is residing in Halifax county, N.C., a most estimable and worthy citizen. And a granddaughter, Mrs. Mary E. Sledge (wife of W. T. Sledge, and sister of the two first-named gentlemen), also lives in Halifax county, besides other relatives, who all, no doubt, do justice to her memory; but others should do likewise, for she was one of the noble spirits of "the times that tried men's souls."