ing sentinel; and soon the whole garrison was in motion. Their long confinement and poor living had rendered the prisoners incapable of speedy flight, and large numbers of them were soon recaptured. For the apprehension of the rest five pounds per head were offered, and within a few days all save twenty were returned to the prison. The latter number escaped, finally and irrecoverably; some in one direction, and some in another.

All who had attempted to escape were punished by confinement in a dungeon, which had been erected with a view to this sort of discipline within the yard of the prison. The gloom of the dungeon soon became intolerable, and they determined to have light. They had already learned to stand upon each other's shoulders; and now they grew so tall, that with their heads and hands they pushed off the roof of the dungeon, so as to let in light and air in great abundance. It is almost needless to say, that their jailors, ere long, judged it best to return them to their ordinary quarters.

The prisoners were ever and anon playing off some practical joke upon their keepers. They had both time and shrewdness enough to plan, and numbers enough to execute, and hence often did up a fine thing in that line. An instance or two can hardly fail to be amusing.

Their prison was undergoing repairs, probably in consequence of the recent attempt at escape; and the prisoners were kept chiefly in the yard, especially during the day. They had observed a striking personal resemblance between one of their own number and "Billy," who daily brought mortar in a hod from outside the premises. It occurred to them that, perhaps, they might make something out of this circumstance. Possibly they could substitute their own man for Billy, and thus get him out of prison. A leading difficulty to be overcome was, the hodbearer limped, and their man did not. They soon succeeded, however, in supplying the deficiency. Several of the prisoners, who were supposed to be the best judges of human locomotion, were placed where they could see Billy as he came from the outer gate to the prison and returned, with the hod on his shoulder. As soon as he had passed they would get up their own man, and see him take the limping step, marching him back and forth

à la Billy. Thus they trained him with a mock hod upon his shoulder for several days, until he had gotten the very step. Next, to carry forward the counterfeit, they daubed his coat with mortar. To get the right sort of hat, they determined to trick Billy out of his. He was very talkative, and often paused some time to ask them questions. Having a special object in view, they themselves, in turn, became quite sociable. Ready at length for their coup d'état, they detained Billy to show him some great curiosity which they had just discovered under a portion of the prison floor. To look under, he was obliged to set down his hod and lay off his hat. The moment this was done, the trained Billy took up the one and put on the other; and, taking the proper limp, marched directly for the gate. The deception was so complete that he went out without the least opposition, the guard suspecting nothing but the honest regress of the veritable hod-bearer. Billy was detained as long as possible, so as to give the fugitive time to get away. When the former went back to the gate the deception was, of course, discovered, and an alarm-gun instantly discharged. The prison walls, upon which several sentinels were posted, commanded a view of the country two or three miles around; and it was not long before the escaped prisoner was seen running across the fields, and a file of men sent in pursuit of him. In a few hours he was again with his brethren in bonds. He alleged that his long confinement and want of food had made him too feeble for a race; though we should candidly admit that it was shrewdly suspected by his fellow-prisoners, that he did not much care to get away. Even Mill Prison, and especially as its regimen had now become considerably more lenient, was less dreadful to him than the solitude, the uncertainties, the unavoidable sufferings of a fugitive life. Indeed the original project looked upon escape as only a possible issue. The principal object was, a little pleasantry at the expense of the prison officials. So the latter regarded it; and hence, instead of inflicting punishment, heartily joined in the laugh.

Another "Yankee trick" was still more amusing. The Lord Howe and General Burgoyne compaign was now the engrossing topic in England. It was to end the

personal friends were of the number. The day of their liberation "was a high day." Even the outsiders, "their enemies," in military parlance, participated in the common joy. It was agreed that when they were marched out of the inclosure, there should be one simultaneous huzza, supported alike by soldiers and citizens, by those within the prison, and those now emerging from it. And the thing was done in fine style. Even the lookers on could not refrain from tears, though the liberated captives were, as became them, most jubilant and most deeply affected. After the welkin had ceased to ring, and the echo had died away, "There," said a boy some sixteen years old, who had been taken with Griffin from the Marblehead privateer, and had shared with him in all the horrors of Mill prison; "there," shouted he, "my mother heard that in Massachusetts, I know she did!"

Here they had been in prison, far away from all that was dear to them on earth, full two years and three months. Who, then, can characterize their transports of joy as extravagant? The occasion fully justified every possible expression of satisfaction.

As when a wretch, from thick, polluted air,
Darkness and stench, and suffocating damps
And dungeon horrors, by kind fate discharged,
Climbs some fair eminence, where ether pure
Surrounds him, and Elysian prospects rise;
His heart exults, his spirits cast their load;
As if new-born, he triumphs in the change.

Still they were not home. The broad Atlantic was between them and their native land. Besides, to consummate the exchange of prisoners agreed upon, they must needs go to France. They left the prison on the 15th of March, 1779, went on board a British transport, and soon found themselves at L'Orient, where their freedom was complete. How many found means to go at once from France to America is not certain. At any rate, Griffin was not of the number. The indomitable Jones greatly needed recruits, and as Griffin had not the means to get home, he enlisted under him and was put on board "The Alliance." The memorandum of which we have before spoken contains the following copy of a letter from him to his father:

L'ORIENT, FRANCE, JUNE 6, 1779.

HONORED FATHER,-I gladly embrace this opportunity to let you know that I am yet alive and in health. Blessed be God for the same! After a long confinement in a loathsome prison, VOL. XII.-38*

that happy day came when I was released and sent to France. Here necessity compelled me to enlist on board "The Alliance," which is soon to go upon a cruise. When I shall return I know not. I must leave that to the Disposer. of all things. Let me beg you not to grieve at my absence. I shall make it my study to return to my native country as soon as possible, should my life be spared.

Precisely how long he remained in the naval service it is difficult to say: certainly long enough to participate in the memorable battle between the Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis ; the former commanded by Paul Jones, and the latter by Captain Pearson. In the old manuscript before referred to, we find the following entry: "Frid., Sep. 23, 1779, at 8 o'clock in the evening, the battle between Capt. Jones and Capt. Pearson commenced, and lasted 31⁄2 hours." It is well known that though the "Alliance" was present, it did not take a very direct or very honorable part in the battle. For this, however, the subordinates were not responsible; and if they were, Griffin himself could not be, for the plain and satisfactory reason, that he was not, at the time, on board of her. For some cause, not now distinctly recollected, he was temporarily on board the "Richard" with Jones. The particulars of the action he has related a thousand times, and probably to thousands of persons. One incident has a thrilling interest. At a time when the two ships were grappled side by side-a thing that more than once occurred in the progress of the action-the contending parties met each other, sword in hand. Griffin faced his antagonist, who aimed a terrible blow at his head, which he had the address to ward off with his sword; at which instant one of his own party, wielding a gun and bayonet, thrust his deadly instrument by him and pierced the bosom of his enraged opponent, who fell dead at his feet! The very sword with which our young hero fought this battle is now in the keeping of his descendants. That the part he acted was honorable, is evident from the fact that his claim to nearly one thousand dollars prize money, supported by documentary evidence over the signature of Dr. Franklin, has been recently recognized at Washington, which sum will doubtless soon be in the hands of his heirs.

The old manuscript named above con

tains a list of the names of all on board the "Alliance," together with a vast amount

of miscellaneous memoranda, which might be of great use to the more ample historian. We have room barely to say, it seems that young Griffin was first and last in nine battles at sea, and was from home not far from four years. When he returned he found his countrymen still advancing in their struggle for freedom, though obliged to contend with the most formidable pecuniary embarrassments. A single fact will sufficiently illustrate this. When he reached Boston he had to pay seventy dollars for his breakfast!-so greatly had the continental issue depreciated even before the close of the war.

Coming home, and feeling that he had now done his full part in the regular service, he prepared for settlement in domestic life. Accordingly, on the 21st of November, 1781, he was married to Miss Rosanna Parmele, of Durham, and soon after commenced housekeeping in his native town, Guilford, Conn. While in church here, the quietude of a New England Sabbath was disturbed by the startling intelligence that the British were landing in force at some point not now distinctly recollected. The services of the sanctuary were instantly closed, and all who could do so were desired to aid in repelling the encroachments of the enemy. A patriotic old lady,

whose heart seemed to be stirred to its very depth, said, "Griffin, are you not going?" "Most certainly," was the instant response, "if I can get a horse." He went up to a Mr. Leet, who had already mounted his horse, not to go to the battle, but home, and said, "Let me have your beast?" With a tory heart and in tory style, he began to make excuses: "He couldn't get home on foot-his horse was hungry-wasn't well shod," and the like. The aforesaid old lady heard the answer, and said to Griffin, "Unhorse him! unhorse him!" Griffin was in the habit of obeying the word of command, and could not consistently hesitate now. Seizing the left foot of the unpatriotic Leet, he speedily and vigorously raised it until the rider was obliged to "go by the board," on the opposite side; when Griffin's feet instantly filled the stirrups, and he was en route for the scene of action. But the British met with a much warmer reception than they had anticipated, and the demonstration amounted to but little.

This ended Griffin's military career. He passed a few years in his native town,

and then moved with his rising family into what is now the town of Paris, Oneida County, N. Y. He was one of the very first settlers, and the whole country was then nearly one unbroken wilderness. Details here, however, fall not within the scope of the present paper. Scattered and poor as were the population, and difficult as it was to get from one place to another, it was not long ere the itinerant herald of the cross came along, bringing the tidings of salvation. The Rev. Jonathan Newman was the pioneer. The Rev. Robert Heath, of Mill Prison memory, had predisposed our subject to Wesleyan Methodism, and with a glad heart he made welcome to his cabin these self-sacrificing men. Griffin was a member of probably the first class ever formed in Central New York, and continued to be an ornament to the Methodist Episcopal Church down to the day of his death. As a citizen, as a civil magistrate, and as a church officer, he was all that could be desired. Many an eye will moisten as it traces these lines. He was a Christian gentleman, and everybody loved him. He was the preacher's friend, and his house was the preacher's home.

One thing more, and we close an article which, though long, we trust the reader will not have found tedious. It has been stated that Griffin was released from Mill Prison on the 15th of March, 1779; and this day was ever after formally celebrated by him and his family. It formed a glorious domestic anniversary. Business was suspended, and the various branches of the family were, as far as possible, called together. On these occasions he would recount the incidents of his imprisonment; not only the incidents given in this brief narrative, but others of a more minute character. Men of true courage are always tender-hearted. Thus it was with Griffin. There were events in his history, the recital of which ever turned him into a child. He could not name them, though he had done it a thousand times before, without weeping. All who had heard him tell his stories knew beforehand when he would "choke down."

Blessed man! he is now with the general assembly and Church of the firstborn. And O that the men of this generation might appreciate the debt of obligation they owe alike to the heroes of the American Revolution, and to the pioneers of American Methodism!