t bustling haste--of people running to and fro,--has suddenly
disturbed the Sabbath evening's repose at Neelytown? Tidings have just
reached them that the enemy's vessels are ascending the Hudson with the
obvious design of attacking Fort Montgomery and the neighboring posts.
The orders are for every man able to shoulder a musket to hasten to
their assistance! This was grave intelligence for the inmates at the Van
Arsdale home (and which may serve to represent many others), but the
call of duty could not be disregarded. For most of the night the good
wife was occupied in baking and putting up provisions for Tunis and his
two apprentices to take with them, while these were as busy cleaning
their muskets, moulding bullets, etc., that naught might be wanting for
the stern business before them. Towards morning, taking one or two hours
rest, they arose, equipped themselves, and made ready for the journey to
the fort, which was full twenty miles distant. As the parting moment had
come, the kind father kissed his three little ones tenderly, then
uttered in the ear of his sorrowing Jennie the sad good-bye, and with
the others hastened from the house, his wife attending him to the road,
and weeping bitterly for she understood but too well that it might be
the final parting. Her longing eyes followed them till they disappeared
beyond an intervening hill. "Oh!" said she to the writer more than sixty
years afterwards, as she related these facts, her eyes even then
suffused with tears, "You may _read_ of these things, but you can never
_feel_ them as I did. I wept much during those seven years."

During the day, those whose kinsmen had gone to the battle met here and
there in little bands to condole with each other, and talk over the
unhappy situation. Later, the boom of distant artillery awakened their
worst fears, for now were they sure that those dear to them were engaged
in a mortal conflict with the enemy. The shades of evening closing
around, brought no relief to their burdened hearts; but, on the
contrary, the most torturing suspense as to the issue of the battle. To
make the situation more depressing, there came on a cold rain, and the
dreariness without was a fit index of the desolate hearts within. At a
late hour Mrs. Van Arsdale retired to her sleepless pillow; but her case
found its counterpart in many an anxious household over a large section
of country.

At length morning broke upon that unhappy neighborhood, and with i