Mrs. Frankland became a prominent member of society, was even presented at Court, and for some years was looked upon as one of the most lovable women residing in London.  When in 1768 her husband died, she returned to America, and made her home at Boston, where in Revolutionary days she suffered so greatly through her Tory inclinations that she fled once more to England.  What more pleasing romance could one want?  It has all the essentials of the old-fashioned novel of love and adventure.

XI.  Feminine Independence

Certainly in the above instance we have once more an independence on the part of colonial woman certainly not emphasized in the books on early American history.  As Humphreys says in Catherine Schuyler:  “The independence of the modern girl seems pale and ineffectual beside that of the daughters of the Revolution.”  There is, for instance, the saucy woman told of in Garden’s Anecdotes of the Revolutionary War:  “Mrs. Daniel Hall, having obtained permission to pay a visit to her mother on John’s Island, was on the point of embarking, when an officer, stepping forward, in the most authoritative manner, demanded the key of her trunk.  ‘What do you expect to find there?’ said the lady.  ’I seek for treason,’ was the reply.  ’You may save yourself the trouble of searching, then,’ said Mrs. Hall; ’for you can find a plenty of it at my tongue’s end.’”

The daughters of General Schuyler certainly showed independence; for of the four, only one, Elisabeth, wife of Hamilton, was married with the father’s consent, and in his home.  Shortly after the battle of Saratoga the old warrior announced the marriage of his eldest daughter away from home, and showed his chagrin in the following expression:  “Carter and my eldest daughter ran off and were married on the 23rd of July.  Unacquainted with his family connections and situation in life, the matter was exceedingly disagreeable, and I signified it to them.”  Six years later, the charming Peggy eloped, when there was no reason for it, with Steven Rensselaer, a man who afterwards became a powerful leader in New York commercial and political movements.  The third escapade, that of Cornelia, was still more romantic; for, having attended the wedding of Eliza Morton in New Jersey, she met the bride’s brother and promptly fell in love with him.  Her father as promptly refused to sanction the match, and demanded that the girl have nothing to do with the young man.  One evening not long afterwards, as Humphreys describes it, two muffled figures appeared under Miss Cornelia’s window.  At a low whistle, the window softly opened, and a rope was thrown up.  Attached to the rope was a rope ladder, which, making fast, like a veritable heroine of romance the bride descended.  They were driven to the river, where a boat was waiting to take them across.  On the other side was the coach-and-pair.  They were then driven thirty miles across country to Stockbridge, where an old