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Chapter XVIII
Crimes and Punishments.
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sustain that of the loyalists, seemed, after his personal experience in the Continental army, to have become his favorite mode of punishment. On all occasions he employed castigation as a remedy for every wrong, suppositious or actual, which he had sustained. It is related that on one occasion a man from Nottingham township, when in pursuit of Fitzpatrick, went to the house of the latter's mother, where he behaved in an insolent manner, hoping thereby to compel her to tell him the whereabouts of her son. Among other things, to show his authority when dealing with a proscribed outlaw, he broke her spinning-wheel. Fitzpatrick, when informed of the indignities which had been shown his parent, vowed that he would be revenged, and contrived to have a message delivered to the offender, in which he apprised him that he might expect a visit from him shortly, and could, if so disposed, make whatever arrangements he deemed necessary to receive his guest in a proper form. The man laughed at the threat, said he would be glad to see Fitzpatrick (they all said that), and if he came he would not, in all probabilities, have occasion to ask the hospitality of any other person after he had gotten through with him. Nevertheless, Fitzpatrick kept his promise. One morning he suddenly confronted the man who had ill-treated his mother at the door of his own house, and commanded him, in a peremptory manner, to immediately follow him to the woods. He who had been so prolific in defiances when the danger was remote had not the courage to resist when Fitzpatrick presented himself in person, but cowardly obeyed his orders. The outlaw tied him to a tree and administered a castigation, which was laid on with a strong arm, and, perhaps, with more good will on the part of the whipper than in any case when Fitzpatrick punished his enemy by flagellation.
Despite his many crimes, there was a rough chivalry in the character of the man which exhibited itself in his marked gallantry towards women, in his open, generous disposition to aid them on when ill fortune bore heavily; indeed, he was never known to rob a poor man or ill-treat a female. Many are the instances related when he bestowed upon the destitute that which he had taken from those in good circumstances, and the weak or defenseless never suffered at his hands. On one occasion an old woman, who made a meagre living by peddling from house to house odds and ends of female apparel, encountered Fitzpatrick in the neighborhood of Caln Friends' meeting-house. She was at the time on her way to Philadelphia to buy goods, and all the money she possessed was on her person. She had never seen Capt. Fitzpatrick, and she informed the tall, handsome stranger that she was told that the outlaw had made some demonstrations in that neighborhood a short time before, and she was afraid that she might fall in with him and be robbed of all her money. Fitzpatrick, by a few questions, drew from her the particulars of her business, and her difficulty in winning an honest livelihood. He then good-naturedly told her she need be under no apprehension, Fitzpatrick never warred upon the weak or defenseless, that she was talking to that personage; and taking a purse from his pocket containing several gold pieces, he gave it to her to aid her in increasing her scanty stock of goods. Then, wishing her a safe journey, he turned into the woods and disappeared. The short but eventful career of the outlaw was rapidly drawing to an end. On Saturday afternoon, the 22d day of August, 1778, shortly after five o'clock, Fitzpatrick went to the house of William McAffee, a well-to-do farmer, who resided in Edgmont township, in the present county of Delaware, near Castle Rock, a cluster of peculiar rocks, bowlder upon bowlder in picturesque confusion, a place often visited by tourists as a natural curiosity, not far from Crum Creek, where that stream is crossed by the West Chester road, and about ten miles from old Chester, on the Delaware. The house stood on a plantation known as the Castle Rock Farm, now owned by Mr. William Taylor, whose present dwelling stands on the site where McAffee's house was then located. It seems that Fitzpatrick had visited the family, who were ardent Whigs, on a former occasion, and had taken from them some articles of value. On the afternoon above mentioned, Mr. and Mrs. McAffee and their son, Robert, a captain of a military company, were at tea, when the latter glancing out of the door saw a man armed with a rifle, a pair of pistols in his belt, and a sword at his side approaching on horseback. As he came from the direction of the American camp, the captain supposed the horseman was a soldier in the Continental service. The latter rode to the door, dismounted, and asked whether William McAffee lived there. An affrmative response was made to this interrogatory, whereupon the stranger entered the room and inquired, - "Are you Capt. Robert McAffee?" "I am Robert McAffee," was the rejoinder of the son. "And I am Capt. Fitzpatrick." "If that be so," quietly said the young man, "sit down and take a cup of tea with us; you are welcome to it." But Fitzpatrick, who seemed to have entertained personal enmity against the McAffees, rudely refused the invitation, declaring, with an oath, that he would neither eat nor drink, nor would he leave the house until he had stripped its inmates of all the money they had; that he was levying contributions from the rebels, and that he had fixed upon one hundred and fifty pounds as the sum to be paid him by the Mc Affees. Thereupon presenting his pistol at Capt. McAffee, he ordered the members of the family to deliver to him all articles of jewelry and money they had upon their persons. A pair of well-made low shoes, or pumps, with silver buckles, worn by the son, | |||