Samuel Kettell, ed. Specimens of American Poetry. 1829.
By Critical and Biographical NoticeAnn Eliza Bleecker (17521783)
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The capture of Burgoyne soon after allowed them to return to their retreat in the country, but the loss of her daughter made so deep an impression upon her mind, that she never recovered her former happiness. She was naturally of a pensive turn, and brooded over her griefs with too free an indulgence. She lived, however, in tolerable tranquillity till the year 1781, when, as Mr Bleecker was assisting in the harvest one day in August, he was surprised by a party of the enemy from Canada, and carried off prisoner with two of his men. Mrs Bleecker, unknowing of the circumstance, continued to expect him home till late in the day, at which time, growing apprehensive, she despatched a servant in search of him, who returned without making any discovery. As a number of parties from Canada were known to be prowling about in the woods for the purpose of seizing and carrying off the most active citizens, she began to conjecture what had become of him. The neighborhood was raised, and the forest searched for him, but without effect; not a trace could be discovered of the party. Mrs Bleecker, completely overcome with grief, gave him up for lost, and set out for Albany, although it was near night. Mr Bleecker however, had the good fortune to be rescued from his captors, just at the time when they had proceeded so far as to imagine themselves in perfect security. He was retaken by a party of Americans from Bennington, and returned to his wife, after an absence of six days. The joy she experienced on again beholding him, so far overpowered her, as to bring on a fit of sickness, which nearly proved fatal.
After the peace, she returned to New York for the purpose of revisiting the scenes and associates of her childhood, but the loss of her friends, and the ruinous condition of her native city, preyed so powerfully upon her, that her spirits were unequal to the burden. She returned to her cottage at Tomhanick where she died on the 23d of November, 1783, at the age of 31.
Mrs Bleecker’s poetry is not of that high order which would sustain itself under any very bold attempt; but the events of her life confer a degree of interest upon the few productions which she has left behind her. A female cultivating the elegant arts of refined society at the ultima Thule of civilized life, in regions of savage wildness, and among scenes of alarm, desolation, and bloodshed, is a spectacle too striking not to fix our attention.