Tredyffrin Easttown Historical Society
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Source: April 1939 Volume 2 Number 2, Pages 29–37

The Frazers of Thornbury in revolutionary times

Franklin L. Burns

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The above title seems the most appropriate even though the story is largely of the distaff side of the house, and the heroine as she appears in the "Harris and Smith Collateral Ancestry" is a truly noble and intensely patriotic woman.

Persifor Frazer was of Scotch Presbyterian stock. An ancestor joined William of Orange and participated in the battle of the Boyne. A descendant, John Frazer of Tonyhamigin, County Monahan, Ireland, married Margaret Smith, came to America and settled on a farm in Newtown near the border of Easttown, where Persifor was born on August 10, 1736.

Persifor early engaged with his father and brother Robert in mercantile ventures until after the loss of the brig "Ranger" and the death of his partners, when he became associated with Jonathan Vaughan, William Douglass and David McMurtie, in the Deep Creek Iron Furnaces and Nanticoke Forge, but in 1770 confined his interest to the Sarum Iron Works on Chester Creek belonging to Dr. John Taylor, grandfather of his wife.

After the death of Taylor, his widow leased the works to Daniel Calvert, who called to his financial aid Jonathan Vaughan and Dr. Samuel Kennedy of the "Steamboat" tavern in Whiteland. Dr. Kennedy was later surgeon in the Continental Army.

Mary Worrall Taylor, daughter of John Taylor and Sarah Worrall of Middletown Township, was married to Persifor Frazer on October 2, 1766.

Since she was a member of the Society of Friends, and her husband a Presbyterian, the customary Quaker committee urged her to make acknowledgment of her transgression. Her reply was,

"I can say with sincerity that I am sorry that Friends were offended, but no one shall ever say that I admitted that I was sorry I married Persifor Frazer."

Her husband, too, was exceedingly polite to the committee. He entertained the members so handsomely and regretted so much that anything had been done to wound their feelings, that they found no opportunity to pronounce disownment, so Mrs. Frazer remained a lifelong birthright Friend.

She worshipped at her husband's church during his life, but in her widowhood resumed the plain garb and at times attended the Quaker meeting at Middletown. Upon being remonstrated with by some Friends who thought she had forfeited her membership, she said,

"No, you have lost your opportunity to put me out, and if I come to want you will have to keep me."

She is described as an uncommonly handsome woman, of somewhat over medium height, well rounded figure, fine fair complexion, very elegant and gracious manner and a superb horsewoman.

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The Frazer family removed to one of the Taylor farms in Thornbury Township prior to the Revolution, when the household consisted, beside the parents, of four small children, Sally, Mary Ann, Robert and Persifor, Jr., also Aunt Nancy Frazer, Polly Fellows, black Rachel and two negro farm hands.

Frazer was on the Committee of Safety in 1774, Captain of the 1st Company in the 4th Battalion, 1775, Major on September 4, 1776, and Lieutenant Colonel of the 5th Battalion, March 12, 1777. He served on Long Island, Ticonderoga, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania. Meanwhile his energetic wife managed the farm.

On October 15, 1776, she wrote him,

"I have got the new land sown and have done all but a little rye that we shall finish this week. The neighbors have been very good. They brought their plows and helped me. Your old friend Cheyney brought his negro and staid and sowed the field."

Squire Cheyney in a note of the same date, said,

"Your wife, I do assure you, has managed your business to admiration. She has the new land cleared completely, twice plowed, and sown in good time. She turns out a very good farmer. I believe the buffet must be neglected, for farming seems to engage all her attention."

However she had moments of longing to be with her husband, for she writes him a week later,

"I can scarcely bear to think that you are now uncertain of coming home, when you gave me much hope in your letter by Col. Hansigger. If you cannot come this winter, pray let me know for certain, and give me leave to come to you, and you shall see that neither mountains nor lakes, frost or snow, shall keep me from the delight of seeing you."

And she wrote on July 9, 1777,

"I reaped the new land wheat yesterday and part of the rye, with 26 hands. Every man tried who could do the best for you. There were both Whig and Tory in the field and not the least dispute among them."

The campaign had shifted to Pennsylvania, and now follows the circumstantial account of incidents occurring over the familiar local terrain as reported by the several members of the Frazer family.

Sally, with her younger brother and sister, was at school on the morning of the battle of Brandywine, when the teacher came into the room about 9 or 10 o'clock and said,

"There is a battle not far off, children. You may go home."

As they were returning they met their mother on horseback, going to the scene of action. After riding all day, she returned, but was off again until after dark.

Squire Cheyney, it is well known, scouted far to the front and right of the American Army and was the first to convey information of the British flanking movement. As he rode up to the Commander-in-Chief he said,

"If you doubt my word, put me under guard until you can ask Anthony Wayne or Persie Frazer if I am a man to be believed,"

and turning to the Staff he exclaimed,

"I would have you know that I have this day's work at heart as e'er a blood of you!"

The baggage, beside a great deal of ammunition and some arms of Wayne's Division, had been deposited at the Frazer farm, but after the battle all had been removed except the chests of some ten regiments.

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The next day a party of American riflemen came to the house, took some refreshments and departed, but not before warning the family that the British would probably plunder the premises and endeavor to capture the Colonel.

Mrs. Frazer sent many articles to neighbor Hemphill for safe keeping, and hid the Colonel's private papers, 200 pounds in paper money, some silver and other things, in the garden and woods.

Early on Saturday morning her husband, who had in the meantime visited his home briefly, rode on to the "Blue Ball" Tavern on the Chester Road two or three miles away, to join a reconnoitering party, and as Mrs. Frazer sat by the open door carding and spinning wool, she heard wagons rumbling over the wooded hill, and thought that they might be Americans to remove the officers baggage, but Major Christy, who had been left in her care with a sprained ankle, gave alarm that they were British.

One black boy was sent to Jacob Vernon and the other in search of the riflemen. Christy, with Aunt Nancy, Polly Fellows and the Frazer children fled to the woods where they hid behind boulders or the branches of a fallen tree. All had left the house but Mrs. Frazer and black Rachel, when an inferior officer entered to accost the mistress in broad Scotch with,

"Where are the damned rebels?"

She, frightened and angry, replied,

"I know of no rebels. There is not, I believe, a Scotchman about the place."

The above retort was in reference to the Scotch rebellion of 1745 and did not fail to strike the Scotchman in the raw, for he flew into a rage and used very abusive language.

The Commander, Captain De West of the Guards, had surrounded the house containing a single defenseless lady and her slave, with 200 foot and 50 horsemen. It seems that he had heard of the dreaded American Riflemen's visit and took extraordinary precautions with an inner line of infantry, with the light horsemon covering all points at a considerable distance.

While he was making this disposition, some of his troops were engaged in looting tho collar of a quantity of salt, at that time very scarce and valuable, and in drinking the liquor. De West entered just as one of his drunken men was about to strike Mrs. Frazer and he was obliged to drive the ruffians out with his sword.

The Captain then said that he had information of the house being full of arms and ammunition, and requested her to throw open the stair door, which he was afraid to attempt himself, fearing someone was behind it ready to shoot.

She told him that she knew of no ammunition and that she would not open the door. He then opened the clock case, jammed an old musket with a broken lock up into the works, breaking then, then again insisted that she open the stair door. In the end he was obliged to do it himself.

He told her to show him what property belonged to her, with the promise that none of it should be touched. He robbed her of her husband's flute, music books, a large French Bible, beside other French books.

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He also took a heavy silver-handled riding whip which had belonged to her grandmother, saying,

"I am just in want of a riding whip,"

but the plucky woman snatched it from his hand, remarking that it was an old family piece and she did not want to part with it, though he could take it from her if he pleased, at the same time, she unscrewed the silver handle and offered him the lash which he refused.

She afterward stated that De West as captain of the Guards, the elite corps of the British army, ranked with the Colonels.

His command plundered the house, broke open the chests which contained the dress swords and clothing of Wayne's officers, and destroyed whatever they could not carry away. One man put on five shirts, another came downstairs with the plaid curtains from a bedstead and threw a part to black Rachel, saying,

"Here, nigger, is something for a petticoat,"

and the poor frightened creature thought she was obliged to put it on, so she thrust her wooly head through a slit and became completely entangled, to the amusement of the rude soldiers.

They took from the barn 50 bushels of threshed and bagged wheat and a great deal more in the sheaf, all planted and harvested by Mrs. Frazer. They also took all the horses. In order to catch a young unbroken mare, they drove her into the garden where she ran through the vines, scattering the papers secreted there, but fortunately unnoticed by them.

Mrs. Frazer particularly mourned two little glass cream buckets with ladles, which she described as

"the most beautiful little things -- I never saw any other like them. They were brought from England by my Grandmother Taylor."

It would appear that Captain De West was connected in some way with, the secret service and high in the confidence of General Howe, and that he recognized in Mrs. Frazer a lady of discretion and influence, for he, in the course of a conversation while his men looted the farm, insinuated similar insidious propaganda which later proved so ruinous to Peggy Shippen, Benedict Arnold and Andre.

In short, he informed her that there were persons employed by his Government to offer very high terms to American officers to induce them to join the British Army, where they would receive commissions, the past overlooked and a reward given beside. He said that her husband was one of the officers so designated and that her influence over him was no doubt so great that if it wore exerted, he would probably accept the offer, and such a change of position would be greatly for her happiness and advantage. Her reply was,

"You do not know Colonel Frazer or you would not undertake such a thing, nor would he listen to me were I to propose it; but if it were possible and he was persuaded to become a traitor to his country, I should never consent to have anything to do with him!"

As he was leaving, De West said,

"I had orders to take Mr. Frazer prisoner and to burn the house and barn to the ground, but I give them to you." "I cannot thank you, sir, for what is my own, and if your orders were such, you would not dare to disobey them,"

she replied.

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After the Captain had left the house but not the grounds, a soldier came downstairs with a very handsome double-reined bridle. Mrs. Frazer ordered him to put it back, for the Captain had promised her that they should not touch a thing belonging to her. He relinquished it but walked into her dressing room, took a box which stood on her dressing table under the mirror, dumped its contents including pin cushions, combs, brushes, etc., on the floor. She threatened to call the Captain and he meekly carried it back, gathered up and replaced the scattered articles and departed. The loss on account of this raid was estimated at 287 pounds and 5 shillings.

The greater part of Howe's army remained for five days encamped in the vicinity of Dilworthtown, but the indolence of the Commander-in-Chief was not shared by Cornwallis, who foraged through the easternmost townships, as indeed necessary, since the army had severed connection with its base of supplies.

Returning toward the main force, his detachment caught Colonel Frazer, Major Harper and Jacob Vernon, on Tuesday morning, September 16. Vernon, who was a civilian, escaped, but the two American officers were made prisoners, forced to give up their swords and steeds and fall in on foot with the advance guard under General Grant.

As they were passing the Goshen Meetinghouse, Grant rode up and demanded the Colonel's name. "Persifor Frazer" was the reply.

"That is a Scotch name,"

said the General,

"and should not belong to a rebel,"

"England has called other men rebels who have resisted her Government, besides those who resist it in America!"

retorted Frazer.

"For that answer you shall have your horse,"

said Grant, whose family had fought for the Pretender, Charles Edward.

Both Frazer's sword and horse was restored to him, and in the course of their conversation they discovered a kinship, Grant's mother being a cousin of Frazer's father, and as long as these two prisoners remained under guard of the 4th and 64th Regiments, they wore well treated, but on the third day on their march from "White Horse" Tavern, they were turned over to the Prevost Guard under the brutal Major Proctor and subjected to the insults of the army twice a day.

In the morning all prisoners were drawn up beside the road on which the troops were to march and there remain until all had passed, after which they fell in the rear. In the evening they passed from the rear to near the front, at which times they endured every kind of abusive language from the common soldiery without the least check from their officers. The officer's paroles were signed at Germantown and on their arrival in Philadelphia they were ordered to quarters assigned them.

On October 7, Dumont, the Commissioner of Prisoners, ordered them closely confined in the State House, where many were held for six days without any issued rations. If it had not been for the provisions sent them by citizens, they must have perished.

Upon Ferguson being appointed Commissary, their allowance was honestly served, though the rations were only four ounces of salt pork and about half a pound of biscuit. Forty officers were confined in the two upper rooms where the windows were nailed down and the smoke from a stove in the guard room was almost intolerable. Letters and considerable sums of money, it was charged, were withheld, and that the guards stole both food and clothing.

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Mrs. Frazer obtained a pass from General Washington which was honored by the British so far as to permit her entry to the City, and she, accompanied sometimes by a neighbor, Mrs. Gibbons, who had a brother, Colonel Hannum, also a prisoner, went several times to supply her husband.

She conveyed to Mrs. Jenkins, the proprietor of the "Conestoga Wagon" on the south side of Market above Fourth Street, such provisions as the farm afforded, and Mrs. Jenkins, who at heart was a good Whig, supplied the prisoners from time to time with the very welcome addition to their meagre bill of fare.

Daughter Sally accompanied her mother on one of these trips and later related her experience. The provisions were placed on two horses, one of which she rode, being a "good horsewoman" though scarcely nine years of age. The flour, meat, chicken, eggs, butter, cheese and fruit, was packed in saddlebags and strong home-made tow-linen wallets, laid across the saddle, and little Sally must have cut a queer figure perched amidst so much baggage on a large black farm horse.

They left Thornbury before noon, the horses were big, strong and good travelers, but with the heat and their heavy loads, it was nearly dark when they began their descent of the Darby Hill. Here they were met by an American officer on horseback who refused to let them go on, and accused Mrs. Frazer of an attempt to carry supplies to the enemy and at the same time making complimentary remarks on her beauty.

She rebuked him for his impertinence unworthy of the uniform he wore and insisted on passing. He caught her horse's rein, she cut her mount sharply with her whip, causing him to jump, but finding the trooper determined to detain her, she produced her pass. The officer seemed much mortified, asked her pardon and rode away very fast. They never knew who he was.

After leaving Darby they entered the thick woods which extended from the river several miles westward and eastward to Sixth and Walnut Streets, here they began to pass squads of Hessians chopping firewood, and the light from their torches made the surrounding darkness seem deeper. Sally thought them frightful-looking creatures and that some of them looked fiercely and wickedly at her mother and herself.

They crossed at Gray's Ferry on a floating bridge, the sentinels at either end questioned her mother and they passed on to the "Conestoga Wagon."

Little Sally arose with the sun and looked out of the window. She saw far down the street a large body of British soldiers on parade. The sun shone upon their burnished arms and brilliant uniforms. The sight was one apt to charm the average child, but Sally hated the enemy so much for the capture of her father and besause they had taken the home town, that she gave way to childish passion and cried, screamed, and stamped her feet with rage.

After breakfast she went with Mrs. Jenkins to Independence Hall. She found across the wide central hall which ran through the building from front to back, a heavy iron grating reaching from ceiling to floor. Back of this grill there was a close screen which did not extend quite to the floor. Between the two screens the prisoners were allowed to walk for air and exercise, both front and rear doors being open with a guard without.

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As the two visitors entered the door, the little girl instantly distinguished her father's legs and feet behind the screen and she jumped up and down with joy, crying,

"I see my daddy's legs! I see my daddy's legs!"

Mrs. Jenkins set about procuring from General Howe a permit for Mrs. Frazer to visit her husband. This was no easy matter and the delay kept them until late on the second day. It was accomplished through an acquaintance of the landlady, an American lady intimate with Sir Howe, under the promise that her name should not appear, and Mrs. Frazer never know who it was that did her the great kindness. It seems probable that it was Mrs. Loring, Washington's trusted spy, who was reputed to have sacrificed her fair name in the cause of America.

From neglect, bad food and cold, the suffering of the prisoners was very severe. On one occasion, accompanied by Mrs. Gibbons, Mrs. Frazer had an interview with her husband. He asked her if she was willing to take to General Washington a paper signed by the prisoners and some of their mouldy, worm-eaten bread. When she returned to the tavern, she ripped the quilting of her skirt and deposited the papers between the lining and the outside and she also opened the hem to place the bread all around the bottom of her skirt and sewed it up.

In the morning the two ladies mounted their horses and turned their faces homeward. They were aware that at the ferry over the Schuylkill there were persons stationed to search all civilians leaving the town. Two Abigails came forward to undress them. Mrs. Gibbons declared that they should not touch her and resisted, kicking, slapping and scolding so much that the searchers felt sure she had something hidden, so they disrobed her entirely even taking off her shoes and stockings, but found nothing contraband.

Mrs. Frazer did not feel at all comfortable awaiting her turn to the shameful ordeal, even though she preserved an outward calm. She thought of her little children at home, without father or mother, should she be detained. She pictured the business at the farm without anyone to direct them and what would become of their living. But most of all she thought of the poor prisoners. If their appeal for relief embodied in the hidden papers should be discovered and her mission frustrated, not only would nothing be done but the severity of their confinement would no doubt be increased.

Fortunately the searchers, wearied of the trouble they had taken for naught, turned to Mrs. Frazer and said,

"This one has nothing worth looking for or she would not be so quiet,"

and scarcely examined anything on her. So, after searching their saddles they were allowed to depart, and when they were safely over the Schuylkill, Mrs. Frazer took a long breath of relief.

It was afternoon when she arrived home, but without resting, she took something to eat, changed her dress, had her saddle placed on a fresh horse and immediately departed in a heavy downpour of rain for the longer journey to the "White Marsh Encampment. Over the South Valley hills to the Swedesford Road and down the Great Valley, she arrived at the Swede's Ford after it had become quite dark. She avoided a large tavern full of swearing and drinking soldiers and rode directly down to the ford, but being unfamiliar with the crossing, she was afraid to attempt it alone, especially as the river, swollen by the heavy rains, had a strong current and was up to her saddle girth; so she rode back to the tavern, where she found the soldiers were American, commanded by a gentlemen she knew. He saddled his steed and crossed the river with her, keeping hold of her horse's rein.

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You modern motorists who boast of your mileage over smooth concrete roads and bridges, consider this courageous woman's journey of fifty miles or more over the bridgeless and bottomless roads of her time and concede the praise due her for she rode to save, not to destroy life.

In the morning she interviewed Washington at his headquarters. The written statements of the suffering condition of the prisoners moved him greatly. He asked some questions relative to the business and sent a gentleman to see her safely over the river. He immediately communicated with Howe. In consequence, the prisoners' condition was somewhat improved, though during the winter a jail fever broke out and they were lodged in different parts of the town.

Colonel Frazer, Colonel Hannum and Major Harper were lodged in the "White Swan" Tavern on Third above Market Street. Notwithstanding they had given their parole, the doors of their sitting and bedrooms were locked, their windows barred, and a guard posted over them. This the prisoners considered restrictive, indefensible by military law, and felt themselves released from their paroles, so on St. Patrick's day, March 17, 1778, when their Irish guard became patriotically drunk, these three officers escaped from their rooms, clambered over a stone wall in the rear and two went to the house of a Frazer, a distant relative of the Colonel's living on Front, near Pine Street, and the other to the home of a Mr. Blackstone, who lived in the same neighborhood.

Vigorous efforts were made to recapture them. On one occasion a search was made in the very house where two of them were secreted in a deep closet behind shelves filled with china. Their escape was aided, too, by the indiscretion of some young British officers, who while calling upon a lady revealed the plans for their capture. They therefore remained in town several days until the ardor of the search had somewhat abated, when Mr. Blackstone procured a boat in which they crossed the Delaware, passing through the British fleet, landed in New Jersey and in a short time joined the army at Valley Forge.

The British thought they had broken their parole and Howe demanded their return, but on investigation of the circumstances, the Court of Inquiry held that they were justified and the demand withdrawn.

During the period when the Continental Army lay at Valley Forge, Mrs. Frazer rode day after day, collecting from friends and neighbors, far and near, whatever they could spare for the comfort of the destitute soldiers. The blankets, half-worn clothing and yarn she brought to her own home where the goods received the necessary repairs. Stockings were refooted and new ones knit. She often sat up most of the night and sometimes all night to get the clothing ready.

Those supplies and what she could obtain of food, she packed on her horse for the journey to camp. She made the trip repeatedly and took altogether more than 300 pairs of stockings, beside a good deal of clothing.

All the cloth and linen worn by Colonel Frazer during the war, was spun at home, most of it by his wife's own hands. She also had oversight of all business, the farm, the Sarum Iron Works, and her domestic work. In summer as soon as it was daylight, she rode over the farm, giving directions to the men, and she frequently rode to the Iron Works and returned by breakfast time to give her attention to her children, servants, and domestic affairs.

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She inherited a handsome estate from her father, but during the war several of the farms were sold to supply means to carry on her charities, to keep her husband supplied and to support her large family at home, so that at her husband's death in 1792, the estate had greatly dwindled, though enough remained to insure her a comfortable existence.

When General LaFayette visited America in 1824, Mrs. Frazer was at the home of her daughter Mary Ann (Mrs. Jonathan Smith) on Walnut Street above Fifth, where the office of the Pennsylvania Fire Insurance Company now stands. Mr. Smith told Mr. Biddle, one of the committee in attendance upon LaFayette, that it would gratify Mrs. Frazer very much if she could see him and he at once consented to call. She told him that she had seen him once under very different circumstances and mentioned her visit to the camp at White Marsh in the autumn of 1777.

He recollected the scene perfectly and seemed much gratified to have it recalled by she who had taken so important a part in it. She ever after expressed the greatest gratification and pleasure in recalling that interview, though at the time the recollection had moved her to tears.

The last ride she took was with her son-in-law, Joseph Smith, to see an unusually fine stand of corn on the South Valley hills, which she was pleased to relate that it was so tall that while sitting on her horse she could not reach the tops with her riding whip.

She retained good health and a fair share of strength until she was about eighty-four years old, and died the following year, November 30, 1830. She was interred with her husband at the Middletown Presbyterian churchyard. Her obituary follows:

"It is a work of supererogation to paint the lily, and a few words should be needed to call attention to the heroism, patriotism, courage, and fortitude of this noble woman."