man of medium height, whose
ruddy honest face, tarpaulin cap and pea-jacket told his vocation. Born
neither to fortune nor to fame, yet by his own merits and exertions he
had won the regard of some in that assembly, having served under
McClaughry, and Willett, and Weissenfels, as also the Clintons, to whom
he had lived neighbor, within that patriotic circle in old Orange, where
these were the guiding spirits, and every yeoman with them, shoulder to
shoulder, in the common cause. As a subaltern officer he had made a good
record during the war, and none present, however superior in station,
had sustained a better character or exhibited a purer patriotism. This
was John Van Arsdale, late a Sergeant in Capt. Hardenburgh's company of
New York Levies. At nineteen years of age, quitting his father's vessel,
where he had been bred a sailor, he enlisted in the Continental Army at
the beginning of the war, and had served faithfully till its close.
Suffering cold and hardship in the Canada expedition, wounded and taken
prisoner at the battle of Fort Montgomery, he had languished weary
months in New York dungeons, and in the foul hold of a British
prisonship, and subsequently braved the perils of Indian warfare in
several campaigns. And with such a record, where expect to find him but
among his old compatriots, on this day of momentous import, when the
struggles of seven years were to culminate in a final triumph.

Van Arsdale volunteered to climb the staff, though with little prospect
of succeeding better than others, especially when after making an
attempt, sailor fashion, he was unable to maintain his grasp upon the
slippery pole. Now it was proposed to replace the cleats which had been
knocked off; and persons ran in haste to Peter Goelet's hardware store,
in Hanover Square, and returned with a saw, hatchet, gimlets, and nails.
Then willing hands sawed pieces of board, split and bored cleats, and
began to nail them on. By this means Van Arsdale got up a short
distance, with a line to which our flag was attached; but just then, a
ladder being brought to his assistance, he mounted still higher, then
completed the ascent in the usual way, and reaching the top of the
staff, tore down the British standard, and rove the new halyards by
which the Star-spangled Banner was quickly run up by Lieut. Anthony
Glean, and floated proudly, while the multitude gave vent to their joy
in hearty cheers, and the artillery boomed forth a national sal