An Arm That Restrained by William Ambrose Spicer

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Feb 4, 1915

An Arm That Restrained

By William Ambrose Spicer

In the days of the Irish rebellion of 1798, Protestants in County Wexford were being hunted and slain without mercy. The daughter of a godly Quaker family tells of the restraining hand of God that saved in the hour of peril as her parents committed themselves and their children to the divine care. One day a band of armed ruffians came to the house, led by one Kehoe, who had been shooting and robbing all about. The daughter’s account states:—

They asked for some refreshment, and were ushered into the kitchen, and sat down at a table, and some food was set before them. A few minutes after another party, about the same number (about eight persons), also armed, came to the front door and inquired if some of their men were not in the house, which was replied to by my father in the affirmative; and they were sent to join them in the kitchen, when they all sat down to the table, or near it.

We were all at this time in the parlor; my dear mother seemed to feel an impulse in her mind to go out into the kitchen, and requested my father to remain with the children in the parlor. I went with her; she carried a stocking she was knitting, and we placed ourselves with our backs to the fireplace, and immediately facing the table where this party sat. After a few moments, when they appeared to have finished their repast, they remained in a state of sullen silence, when this Kehoe raised his eyes, and sternly fixed them upon my mother. She instantly perceived it, and kept her eyes firmly fixed on his, until he bent down his head, as if confounded.

A short pause of sullen silence again ensued among them; I do not believe a word was uttered by any one; and they all, as by one impulse, suddenly rose from their seats, went out, and went away. In the meantime the girl I have noticed [the one servant who had not left them] went out for some turf for the fire, when she found a number of women in the out-offices, who had ropes with them, and who inquired of her anxiously, “What are the men about? What are the men about?”

We afterward understood that these ropes were intended to assist in carrying away the plunder, after our lives had been disposed of by this party.

Hints from the neighbors from day to day fully confirmed the impression that deadly peril was still impending. All about, Protestants who had joined together to fight for their lives had been slain. Then the one remaining servant fled from the house, a signal that another blow was about to fall. And still they put themselves in the hands of God, and looked to him for aid. The account continues:—

Early one morning, before we were up, we were again visited by a hostile band, several of whom were on horseback, some neighbors and some strangers. They got admittance at the back door, where they kept guard; and four or five, with pikes and firearms, came upstairs, where we were in bed. Their pretense was alleged to be that we had a person in the house who was inimical to them. This was disavowed, but they were directed to search by my father. They did so, but found no one. They appeared most maliciously angry, and one of them, in going downstairs, struck his pike through the glass of the clock, and into the dial plate, the mark of which is still visible; others of them stabbed some tinware and other articles in the kitchen; and after this they went away, some cursing and swearing, and saying they could not conceive or understand “what prevented them from doing what they came to do,” or words to the same effect.—“Principles of Peace,” Dr. Thos. Hancock.

The praying family who had refused to take up arms for their own defense, but had cast themselves upon the Lord, knew well whose arm it was that held back these men from “doing what they came to do.”

W. A. S.