Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1899-01-06

in A lieutenant of those days, a major
. general later, has left an account of an
escape from New York. 1t seems he
was taken on foraging expedition in
Westchester. The capture of himself
and his comrades, this Mordaunt states
particularly, was his own fault. His
escape was little less than remarkable,
and will leave him to state it in his
own words. The narrative, you will
notice. begins rather abruptly:
The little town of gabled roofs broke
at last on my wearied sense, as the
guard troops brought us in, like a scene
in play had once seen in Philadel-
phia-as if l should turn from it to
town Of the Canadas, though this was
all unlike; a Dutch town, indeed, with
marks put on it of long English occu-
patton, as we fell among the kings red
coated soldiery.
wanted, weary as 1 was, to say a
word to my poor comrades, but was
not permitted it, and accused myself,
whose sorry rashness-for l had urged
the expedition-had brought them to
this plight of prisoners of war. But l
had no chance then, nor later.
AS for myself, / was taken into a
building which proved an improvised
Jail, where l was given a comfortable
room, the circumstances being consider
ed, where at once fell to sleep.
do not know how long 1 slept, when
was Weakened by sunshine streaming
through a barred window and insistent
tones in my ears A sergeant stood
fhere, directing a man with my break
fast. ate heartily, forgetting all my
misfortune.
And this was the beginning of many
days.
At last one day, long past sunset,
heard a considerable commotion out
side. My barred window showed moth
ing against the gathering dusk, though
looking out into street-it was lit
tie side street.
But the commotion continued. Pres
emily heard steps in the corridor and
the bolts drawn, when my taller SER
geant appeared with two soldiers sup
porting young man in lieutenant's
uniform, from whose pale face saw at
once that he was drunk.
"The house is filled, and we shall
have to put him in with you," the SER
geant said, the others supporting him to
the bed, where he sank down.
"Why don't 1 hear from Sir Henry
Clinton?' l asked like a peevish fool,
s If the sergeant should know. 81 ex-
Il. cct "A LEGAL least
He shrugged his shoulders and went
out and closed the door and heard the
fading footballs.
Why, indeed, wasn't some action
taken IN my case? had been now
prisoner near a week.
The fellow on the bed breathed heav.
lily. He wore the uniform of line regi.
ment and had young, gentle face,
rather worn with dissipation. 1 do not
know to this day what caused the street
noises preceding his appearance Watch
ing his hard breathing, suddenly wish !
ed that had his uniform, though did |
not think why. The thought was like |
an inspiration, for what if the door
had been left unbolted? OF course it |
IEas impossible it should have been,
and yet l had not heard the rasping of |
the bolt against its socket, and 1 tried |
1t. Will you believe me, that door |
swung back, and was looking into the |
corridor?
Quickly closed it and went back ia
the hard breathing figure ON the bed.
For moment in the Pickering light |
Il had lit my candle-I watched his |
face, which reminded me of my own.
Finally, having the courage of my pur
pose, shook him roughly, but he did
not SO much as stir. So began to pull. !
Off his coat, his stock, his waistcoat.
Still he was unconscious till he star
S2ed me by opening his eyes.
WHAT" he asked huskily. And ther
he rolled over on his side in stupor.