officers cheerfully, and never wanting in energy to execute them. The deep snows of Quebec had not cooled his ardor. The fetid stench of an English prison ship could not abate his love of liberty and country. The blood and carnage of Saratoga and of Monmouth had given him confidence. The blood-stained soil of Valley Forge had inured him to hardships to which others would have yielded.

The news of the bloody butchery at Wyoming had aroused his iron nerve to its utmost tension against tories, and in this condition he was ordered with his regiment to Robinson's Farms, N. J. Here he breaks up a "nest" of tories, who were supplying the English with hay, grain and other things necessary for their army. An anecdote of this bloodless battle was related to the writer by one of Col. Bigelow's men, who was present at the time. The English had sent a company of men to guard their teams while removing some hay they were receiving from their friends the tories, when Col. Bigelow came up with his regiment, and ordered them to disperse. The tories were insolent; the English captain refused to go until the hay went with them. Upon this Col. Bigelow ordered a part of his men to fire upon them. At this moment, one of Col. Bigelow's men, from Worcester, who had just joined the regiment, and, we are sorry to say, was a coward, exclaimed at the top of his voice, "In the name of God, why don't Col. Bigelow order us to retreat?" This man in after life received a pension from government, and died respected a few years since in this city. His children are now living here, and therefore we shall not call his name. He was always afraid of gunpowder. The English were also frightened and fled, leaving the hay on the hands of Col. Bigelow, who, having no use for it, returned it to its tory owner, on the express condition that he should not sell it to the British.

Colonel Bigelow is now ordered to Peekskill. This is a town on the Hudson, forty-six miles north of New York, and one hundred and six miles south of Albany. Here he frightened the tories, and drove the British down the river to New York. Col. Bigelow is again at Verplank's, and Stony Point, guarding the pass called King's Ferry. Gen. Clinton moves upon them with the British army, and Commodore Collier with the British squadron ascends the river; the British storm the fort named the Fort of Lafayette, at Verplank's; the fortress had to surrender, but not until Col. Bigelow showed them the points of his bayonets. It was said of this conflict, that Col. Bigelow ordered his men to draw their charge and approach the enemy with fixed bayonets, while he himself laid aside his sword and took a musket from a sick soldier, and with it fought more like a tiger than a man. This fort, being overpowered by the enemy, at length gave way and surrendered at discretion. The policy of the English is now to resume the war of devastation, and the army is ordered into South Carolina. Gen. Gates is ordered to the command of the southern army.

X.

DISASTERS AT THE SOUTH.

Gen. Gates takes the command of the southern army. The British at this time had almost undisputed possession of South Carolina, Georgia and North Carolina. In this condition Gates resolved to risk a general battle with Lord Cornwallis, and for which he was severely blamed. He lost the battle, hence the blame. If, on the other hand, he had gained it, he would have gained another laurel to place by the side of the one gained at Saratoga. At this battle, Gen. Gates lost more than two thousand men, and among them three valuable officers. Gen. Gregory was killed, and Baron de Kalb and Gen. Rutherford of Carolina were taken prisoners. This was the result of the battle at Camden. At this time, Col. Bigelow was watching the movements of the British troops in New York, Connecticut and Rhode Island. In this stage of the narrative, the writer cannot refrain from a passing tribute of respect to the memory of those patriotic women of South Carolina, who displayed so ardent, so rare a love of country, that scarcely could there be found in ancient or modern history an instance more worthy to excite surprise and admiration. They repaired on board ships, they descended into dungeons where their husbands, children or friends were in confinement. They carried them consolation and encouragement. "Summon your magnanimity," they said, "yield not to the fury of tyrants; hesitate not to prefer prisons to infamy, death to servitude. America has fixed her eyes on her beloved defenders; you will reap, doubt it not, the fruit of your sufferings; they will produce liberty, that parent of all blessing; they will shelter her forever from the assaults of British banditti; you are the martyrs of a cause the most grateful to Heaven, and sacred to man." By such words these generous women mitigated the miseries of the unhappy prisoners. Exasperated at their constancy, the English condemned the most zealous of them to banishment and confiscation. In bidding a last farewell to their fathers, their children, their brothers, their husbands, these heroines, far from betraying the least mark of weakness, which in men might have been excused, exhorted them to arm themselves with intrepidity. They conjured them not to allow fortune to vanquish them, nor to suffer the love they bore their families to render them unmindful of all they owed their country. A supernatural alacrity seemed to animate them, when they accompanied their husbands into distant countries, and even when they immured themselves with them in the fetid ships into which they were inhumanly crowded. Reduced to the most frightful indigence, they were seen to beg bread for themselves and families. Among those who were nurtured in the lap of opulence, many passed suddenly from the most delicate and the most elegant style of living, to the rudest toils, and to the humblest services. But humiliation could not triumph over their resolution and cheerfulness; their example was a support to their companions in misfortune. To this heroism of the women of Carolina it is principally to be imputed, that the love, and even the name of liberty, were not totally extinguished in the southern provinces. Col. Bigelow, hearing of the loss of Gates' army, and the appointment of Gen. Green to the command of the southern department, solicited and received orders from the commander-in-chief to move on with his regiment to join Green; but did not arrive in season to participate in the battles of Hobkirk and of Eutaw Springs, which closed the campaign in the south.

XI.

BATTLE AT YORKTOWN.

Yorktown is a port of entry in Virginia, 70 miles E. S. E. from Richmond, on the south side of York river, opposite Gloucester. The British army from the South had encamped at this place and fortified it. Col. Bigelow had arrived with his regiment to join Gen. Green. Col. Bigelow is now in Gen. Lafayette's detachment. Lafayette's second officer is Col. Hamilton, aid-de-camp of the commander-in-chief, a young man of the highest expectations, and accompanied by Col. Laurens, son of the former President of Congress.

Another detachment was commanded by the Baron de Viomesnit, the Count Charles de Damas, and the Count de Deux-Ponts. The commanders addressed their soldiers a short exhortation to inflame their courage; they represented that this last effort would bring them to the close of their glorious toils. The attack was extremely impetuous. Gen. Lafayette is ordered to attack the right redoubt, while the Baron de Viomesnit is to attack the left. This was done at the point of the bayonet. Suffice it to say, that both redoubts were carried. One of Col. Bigelow's men, on being inquired of by the writer where his Colonel was at this time, answered, "Why, old Col. Tim was