everywhere all the time, and you would thought if you had been there, that there was nobody else in the struggle but Col. Bigelow and his regiment." Before the morning of the 19th, those redoubts were all repaired and manned by the allies.

Now comes the celebrated 19th day of October, 1781. The day began to appear, the allies open a tremendous fire from all their batteries; the bombs showered copiously, the French fleet, under the command of Count De Grasse, are opening a most deadly fire from the harbor. Lord Cornwallis sends in a flag to General Washington, proposing a cessation of arms for twenty-four hours. Washington would not consent to it, and would grant but two hours, and during this interval he should expect the propositions of the British commander. The proposition is made and accepted. The British flotilla, consisting of two frigates, the Guadaloupe and Fowey, besides about twenty transports (twenty others had been burnt during the siege), one hundred and sixty pieces of field artillery, mostly brass, with eight mortars, more than seven thousand prisoners, exclusive of seamen, five hundred and fifty slain, including one officer (Major Cochrane), were surrendered into the hands of the armies of France and America, whose loss was about four hundred and fifty in killed and wounded.

At the news of so glorious, so important a victory, transports of exultation broke out from one extremity of America to the other. Nobody dared longer to doubt of independence. A poet in Col. Bigelow's regiment, made a short song commemorative of this event, in which occurred these lines,

A wag in Worcester, after they had returned, changed it so as to make it read thus:

Such was the end of the campaign of Virginia, which was well nigh being that of the American war. This laid the foundation of a general peace. Thus ended a long and arduous conflict, in which Great Britain expended an hundred million of money, with an hundred thousand lives, and won nothing. The United States endured great cruelty and distress from their enemies, lost many lives and much treasure, but finally delivered themselves from a foreign dominion, and gained a rank among the nations of the earth.

XII.

CLOSE OF THE REVOLUTION.

After the surrender of Yorktown, the American army divide. Part of the troops return to the banks of the Hudson, to watch the motions of Clinton, who had still a large force at New York. The rest were sent to South Carolina, to reinforce General Green, and confirm the authority of Congress in those provinces.

Col. Bigelow and his regiment were among those that returned to the Hudson. The Marquis de la Fayette embarked about the same time for Europe, bearing with him the affection of the whole American people. In a few months, Gen. Green had driven the British from the southern colonies, and they retire to New York, to join the main army.

Col. Bigelow is ordered to leave West Point, where he was stationed, and proceed to Rhode Island.

The next Spring, 1782, Sir Guy Carlton arrived in America and took command of the British army at New York. Immediately after his arrival, he acquainted General Washington and Congress, that negotiations for a peace had been commenced at Paris. On the 30th of November, of that year, the provisional articles of peace were signed.

Col. Bigelow returned to Worcester, but was very soon stationed at West Point, for what purpose the writer could never ascertain. Afterwards he was assigned to the command of the national arsenal at Springfield. After his term of service was out there, he returned again to Worcester, with a frame physically impaired by long hardship, toil and exposure, with blighted worldly prospects, with the remains of private property—considerable at the outset—seriously diminished by the many sacrifices of his martial career.

In 1780, Col. Bigelow with others obtained a grant of 23040 acres of land in Vermont, and founded a town on which was bestowed the name of Montpelier, now the capital of the State. A severe domestic affliction in 1787, the loss of his second son, Andrew, uniting with other disappointments, depressed his energy, and cast over his mind a gloom, presaging the approaching night of premature old age. He died March 31st, 1790, in the 51st year of his age.