ous day. After the Gun Boats that were then at the Navy Yard were in readiness to defend the harbor if required, Billy volunteered to act as a marine under Commodore Decatur, who was then very busy in making suitable preparations to meet the British, and he remained on board one of the boats, until the services of the men were deemed no longer necessary. Billy Flora died in Portsmouth, in a good old age.

I have also heard Capt. Nash mention the names of all whom he remembered as present at the battle of the Great Bridge; among whom were the Wilsons, the Butts, Cunninghams, Tatems, Portlocks, Etheridges, Stokeses, Creekmores, Curlings, Porters, Trusses, Brannans, Brookses. Williamses, Foremans, Sykeses, Denbys, and many others. I have heard him speak particularly of Capt. Wm. Porter, Wm. Wilson, Senr., John Brooks. John Brannan, and Jonathan Denby, who were afterwards citizens of Portsmouth. The last five named gentlemen I recollect very well. I have been informed by the Rev. Jesse Nicholson, that Brannan was also in the battle of the Cowpens. J. J.

CAPTAIN CUNNINGHAM.

[This interesting account of Captain Cunningham and his escapes, was written by the late Commodore Barron of Norfolk, and communicated by him for publication in our work. We submit it, accordingly, with much pleasure; and only regret that it is the last of the writer's valuable and pleasant papers, illustrating revolutionary times, that can appear in our pages.]

Capt. William Cunningham was a native of Hampton, Virginia, and in the early part of our revolutionary struggle, took a decided stand in the cause of his country. He first shouldered his firelock in one of the minute companies* raised for the defence of his native town and county; and continued in that service until the State of Virginia pur

* Raised to march at a moment's warning, and thus called minute companies.

chased and armed a few fast-sailing, pilot-boat schooners. Among them was the schooner Liberty, which was never captured, although several times sunk in the rivers, to be concealed from the enemy. Captain Cunningham embarked in the Liberty as her first lieutenant, and continued in her for some time, until the war assumed a more regular form. The enemy varied his attacks from one State to another, sometimes leaving our waters in a measure free from his men-of-war. In one of these intervals, Captain Cunningham purchased a small schooner, which he loaded. with tobacco, and sailed in her for St. Thomas. He arrived out safe, sold his cargo, and returned to Newbern, N. C., in twenty-one days, having realized an immense profit on his investment. He continued in this kind of traffic, at intervals, during the whole war, when his services were not immediately required by the State government. Sea officers were encouraged to engage in commerce, in this way, as the only means of procuring munitions of war.

On one of these occasions, Captain Cunningham was in command of a schooner called the Polly. During a thick fog, in the month of June, distant about ten leagues from Cape Henry, he heard a ship's bell strike seven !—in the direction of the wind, which was light, from the southeast. As may be supposed, this produced an immediate alarm; every preparation having been previously made for such an event, the crew were at their respective quarters in a moment; but as the sequel proved, they were not a second too soon; for at the same instant a frigate was seen, close aboard and directly astern. Both vessels were steering to the north-west. When the schooner was descried from the frigate, an imperious order was heard through a trumpet in the hands of an officer on the forecastle"strike your colors-haul down your light sails, and heave to, or I'll sink you." This was a situation that required

the greatest skill and presence of mind, and Captain Cunningham proved to be fully competent to the discharge of his duty; he exhibited that coolness and intrepidity which ever distinguish a brave man. The wind was light from the south-east, the fog very dense, and the direct course of the two vessels W. N. W.-the frigate being a little on the weather quarter of the schooner. Captain C. therefore determined to haul by the wind, on the larboard tack, and ordered the helm to starboard for that purpose; and, as if in conformity with the order from the frigate, he directed aloud all the small sail halyards to be let go. This deceived the commander of the frigate, (who was the Hon. Captain Elphinstone, afterwards Lord Keith,) for a minute or two, and suspended the threatened firing; during this short time, the schooner sprang to, nearly at right angles with the course of the frigate, and it was discovered that an escape, (if possible,) was determined on. At this moment the jib-boom of the frigate caught in the topping lift of the schooner's main boom; Captain C. sprang up to the stern, with a knife in his hand, to cut the rope outboard the block to which it was attached, so that it might unreave through the end of the boom, which it did, and thus freed the schooner from the grasp of the frigate. While in the very act, a marine on the forecastle shot Captain C. through the arm; but this severe injury did not deprive him of that steady, cool determination which governed all his actions, and never was there an instance when deliberation was more conspicuous. In ten minutes the schooner was out of sight of the frigate! and arrived safely in Hampton Roads the next day. Although the escape was made under a shower of shot, the wound received by the Captain was the only damage sustained.

Some time after this affair the State of Virginia was invaded, and the Atlantic portion of it invested by the ene

my, so that commercial operations were suspended. Captain Cunningham now took his land tacks aboard, and joined the army on the south side of James river; but he was not quite so much at home in this service as on his professional element, and he had the misfortune to be taken prisoner, while on some foraging expedition. He was carried to Portsmouth, where he was safely moored in the provost prison in that town, and remained there for some time until his patience was completely exhausted. Captain Cunningham had not been very long married to excellent and amiable lady, of his own choice; and it was evident to his friends in the prison, (and there were many of them,) that he was meditating his escape, but not one person among them thought it possible. One day, he said to an uncle of his, (also a prisoner,) that he would see his wife the next evening, or perish in the attempt. "What! My dear Will, are you mad?" was the reply.

an

But to the act. This prison was a large building, well known by the appellation of the "Sugar House," and was built for that purpose; it stood at the extreme south end of the town, and was strongly enclosed by a stockade fence around it, with the principal gate opening to the south-west. At sunset, every evening, the guard, composed of from forty to fifty men, were relieved by fresh troops; and on their arrival the two guards, with their officers, were paraded in front of the prison, on each side of the pathway to the gate. At this hour, the ceremony observed on the occasion was in progress-the relieved guard had stacked their arms, and were looking up their baggage; the fresh guard were relieving sentinels, and in a degree at their ease. This was the time selected by Captain C. to make good his promise, or die in the attempt. The sentinel had just begun to pace his sacred ground, and awful indeed was the moment. Captain C. was justly a

great favorite with all the prisoners, and they, as well as his uncle, stood in silent terror, expecting soon to see their beloved compatriot pinned to the earth by many bayonets, for expostulation had been exhausted. "My wife, or

death!" was the watch word. But he had carefully observed the sentinel's movements, and as he turned from the prison and marched towards the gate, Captain C. darted from the door of the house, overtook him before he turned, and knocked him down at his full length, by a butt of the head, for which he was famous.It was now nearly dark. It would be useless to attempt a description of the astonishment, and instantaneous uproar and confusion, which the conduct of this dauntless man caused to the senses and feelings of all present. The soldiers, with their officers, as soon as they came sufficiently to their reason to act, ran out in the direction that the prisoner had taken, but he was gone! he had reached a marsh at the south end of the house, and was no where to be found. Volley after volley was fired, and some of the balls whistled about his head; but all in vain.

On reaching the southern branch of Elizabeth river, he plunged in and swam over, a little below the Navy Yard, at Gosport, and keeping along its margin until he came to the deserted residence of his father-in-law, about threequarters of a mile above, he ventured to approach the house, and there found two faithful old servants, who assisted him to equip the only animal, (an old horse,) then remaining on the plantation; they gave him a direction to the northwest woods, where they said he would find the family and his wife, and where he found her indeed to his heart's delight.

J. B.