6

in comparative repose. But the dawn of the seventeenth was ushered in by the thunders of Bunker hill, and a demonstration of hardihood was made on the part of the Americans, appalling to the veterans who had hitherto affected to despise them. It is not the province of our humble tale to enter into a description of that magnificent action. The story has been repeated till every child can tell it. I would then merely invite the reader's attention to that part of the lines defended by Downer's volunteers.' Here had been the hottest of the battle. Well disciplined and admirably equipped, and inspired with tenfold hatred of the British, they did their work with astonishing coolness and despatch, and every bullet told one on the death roll. When the last and decisive charge came on, they handled their bayonets like old campaigners and repulsed the enemy with prodigious slaughter, or, retreating, only because otherwise they would have been left alone upon the field. It was upon this third onset that a fresh company of grenadiers, who with other reinforcements had just arrived, advanced to assault Downer's section of the lines. In spite of a tremendous fire, they passed on and leaped the breastwork. Upon them,' cried their leader; 'no quarter to the rebels!'

A cry of ferocious joy burst from the lips of Dorwner, as he recognized the fiery face of the speaker, and he rushed forward, sword in hand. But before he could reach his victim, who stood by the breastwork, waving his sword and urging his men onward, a light form bounded through the air past him, and lighted upon the Briton with a fixed bayonet. The blow was sufficient to have beaten him to the earth, even without a weapon; but as it was, the steel passed through his vitals and pinned him to the slope of the embankment. kept my vow!' shouted Edgar. Wretch, know me!'

As he spoke, he stooped and whispered something in his ear. Gordon started as if he felt another wound, and gazing wildly upon the face, which, advanced within a foot of his, was smiling upon him but with the dire expression of a beautiful fiend, he attempted to rise, made a noise like one strangling, fell backward, and expired. 'I have kept my vow!' again cried the youth as he drew out his and turned to Downer, and, brother, we are both revenged.' As he spake, he drew off from his head a wig of straight black hair, and the rich tresses of a female fell upon his neck and shoulders.

weapon

'Isabella!' cried Downer, as the truth dawned upon him, 'my sister!-can it be?'

'Touch me not,' cried the unhappy girl, shrinking from his embrace. There is a stain upon me which even the blood that I coveted has not washed away.'

'But Oh!' she continued, 'here flows a healing balm.' She pointed as she spoke to a crimson tide, that dyed her garments from her side to her feet.

'You are wounded!' cried the terrified Edward.

She gave no answer, but smiled and fainted in his arms.

The enemy was now advancing in a manner that showed resistance would be unavailing. The redoubt had been taken, and the lines everywhere broken. Edward cast an impatient glance at his flying countrymen, but Isabella at this moment opened her eyes, and every other passion of his soul gave way to a brother's tenderness. He ordered a hasty retreat; and, bearing Isabella in his arms through the raking fire of the enemy across Charlestown neck, placed her in a carriage, and thus conveyed her to her native valley—to die.

Her sun went calmly down. She gloried in the exchange of worlds, not so much from a mere loathing of life, as from the triumphant assurances of the gospel. The seeds of life eternal had been sown early in her mind. It had sprung up, a vigorous and healthful plant; and though the lightnings had scathed and rifled it, its roots were still lively, and sent forth buds and boughs. All within her was peace. The christian's hope, that breeze of para

dise, which had fanned her childhood's hours, and which had recently been put to fearful rout, had resumed its wonted breathings, and was wafting her steadily on to the haven of rest. -They assembled for her funeral. It was more solemn than her father's, but I cannot describe it. The deep waters of their souls were troubled, and there was weeping and woe, but no violence—no confusion. Her angel spirit seemed to hover there, with a spell on every heart, bidding them be still, for she was at rest. But think not if thus silent their sorrow, it left not its impression. Deep was the oath by which her heroic band, kneeling round her grave, bound their souls to the service of their country, till death or victory should close the conflict. The band in which she had fought took a new ardor to revenge the wrongs of Isabella Downer. With Gates they were at Saratoga; with Green, at Eutaw Springs; with Washington, at Trenton and Yorktown. At length fifty war-worn veterans returned to Willow Valley. The bones of the remaining fifty were strewn from Massachusetts Bay to Georgia. Downer too returned, but not to remain. He saw the ashes of his home, and the voice of other days came back upon him and unmanned him. He retired far south, and there, once more, laid the foundations of his house. His vine has flourished, and numerous goodly branches have sprung from the parent stock. His eldest son, who inherits the paternal estate, was a colonel in the service during the last war, and more recently a member of the national council. In his house is a singuJar room, which is opened but once a year. At one end of it hangs the picture of his grandfather. At the other are the pictures of his father and of Isabella in her military dress; and between them is spread the banner under which they fought. Here, on the anniver

sary of the nineteenth of April, a solemn feast is held. All branches of the family are called home, the history of that banner is repeated, and all feel as they turn from the sacred relics to separate, each to his home, the bonds of consanguinity strengthened, and their love of liberty increased from the knowledge of the price it cost. 'Had every family in the land such an heir-loom as this,' says the colonel, Britons at least could never conquer us.'

We beg that our motive in recording this narrative may not be misapprehended. Let us not be accused of exaggerating the sufferings of our revolutionary fathers, or of wishing to strengthen national antipathies. Honi soit qui mal y pense. The angry passions of that struggle have subsided, and far be it from us to rake among the smouldering embers of the last century for the purpose of kindling again a flame which, for the good of both nations, every enlightened Englishman and every true American wishes extinguished forever. But if, by portraying the outrages to which our ancestors were exposed, in winning for themselves and us, their children, a rich inheritance of liberty and peace, our humble tale can beget in us a proper veneration for their memories, and a just appreciation of their glorious bequests, then will the wishes of its author be fully realized.

When we find so much ingratitude and selfishness among mankind, and after conferring considerable favors, instead of securing a friend, find "the ingrate and cankered Bolingbroke," when we so often see an apparent act of liberality originate from a selfish motive, it gives us pleasure to meet with an instance of disinterested generosity and pure gratitude in return; it makes us better satisfied with mankind and our situation among them.

The following was copied from the journal of an American shipmaster in his own words; he was an eye witness of what he relates, and recorded it merely as a source of amusement for himself.

As I was standing, says the writer, in the street gate of the French coffee house in Lima, with several American captains, one of whom was named B***ks, our attention was attracted by a general officer in full uniform, of a fine commanding appearance, coming out of the coffee house, attended by his secretary. When near us he started, stopped an instant, then ran and caught B. in his arms, cried "My dear B! my dear friend! how happy I am to see you!" B. was astonished and told him he did not recollect him. What! he says, not recollect Hualero! The exclamations of joy and congratulation were now mutual, and they went into the coffee house together. Hualero immediately inquired of B. if he could serve him; he offered his purse-his house, or his interest. B. replied that he was master of a vessel, which, with the cargo, had been seized by gov

ernment on account of some Spanish property on board; that the trial would come on soon, and that the result was doubtful; in every other respect his circumstances were such as to need no assistance. Hualero told him to give himself no uneasiness, that he would attend to the business, that his obligations to him were such that he could never expect to cancel them, but it would give him the greatest pleasure to render him any service in his power. After some further conversation, he took leave, inviting B. to dine with him the next day, and bring any of his friends whom he chose.

On the following day, B. with two of his acquaintances left Lima for Bella Vista, a small village where the Colombian and Peruvian forces were encamped, under the command of Hualero. They had chosen this place as it was within gunshot of Callao castles, and convenient for erecting batteries behind the houses, without being annoyed by the Spaniards, (who still held the castles under the command of Rodil, the only spot on the continent of South America in their possession.) When the breast-work was completed and mounted with long brass 24 pounders, the buildings were torn down, and a heavy cannonade opened on the astonished garrison, who however in return sent an immense quantity of bombs and shot into the batteries and village, but without much effect. After cannonading for several days, the fire gradually ceased on both sides, and was only continued at intervals.

In one of the batteries they found the General, who received them with much kindness and attention, and, after showing them all that could interest them for their amusement, ordered several shots to be thrown among a party of foragers outside the walls of the castle. The shots were promptly returned by the garrison, and were thrown with great precision. Hualero was personally known to Rodil and his officers; and being very conspicuous from his dress, all the shot appeared to be directed at him, not one of which passed more than twenty feet from him and his party. Several soldiers were wounded and one killed by the explosion of a bomb. After this military diversion, they repaired to the General's quarters, and dined with him and several of his officers. After dinner, the General related to the company his obligations to Captain B., and gave the following toast: "Captain B., the saviour of my life." He then told him that his secretary had interceded with the government respecting his vessel, and that he might expect a favorable decision. When the party took leave, the General accompanied them nearly to Lima. The kindness and attention of Hualero to B. was unremitted. He offered to furnish him any house in Lima he chose to select, and was continually urging favors upon him. B.'s property was soon after liberated, though it was well known to be liable to condemnation. That a general officer in the Colombian