tered at his house at Basking
Ridge, where they found most delightful company; and in every way our
American lord did what he could for the cause and the people who were
defending it. His title was generally recognized; and Washington, who
was very particular in regard to matters of rank and social propriety,
always called him "my lord." He was said to be a fine-looking man; in
fact, he and Washington were of more imposing and dignified appearance
than any other officers of the American army.

Of course, as he was a very notable person among the Continental
officers, the British were very anxious to capture him. In 1781, when he
was in command of the Northern Department at Albany, this design of the
enemy came very near being carried out, but was frustrated by the
faithful services of one of those good women who were continually
turning up in colonial history. A servant girl in the family of a house
near Albany, where Lord Stirling was staying, had been visiting her
parents during the day, and had there heard a plot of the Tories of the
neighborhood to capture Lord Stirling. Being of a patriotic disposition,
she told her mistress of the plot as soon as she got home; and when in
the night a large body of the enemy came to the house, they were met
with a surprise.

Lord Stirling had not gone out of town without taking with him a guard
of dragoons; and these men, instead of being quartered at a distance, as
the Tories evidently supposed they would be, had all been brought into
the house; and when the attack was made in the night, the bullets and
pistol balls which whizzed and whistled from that ordinarily peaceful
mansion astonished the Tories, who fled.

But although Lord Stirling did so much for American independence, he did
not live to enjoy the fruits of it, for he died in Albany, while still
in command of the Northern Department. After his death, the estate at
Basking Ridge was sold, and payment for it was made in Continental
money, which afterwards became of almost no value; so that for this fine
property, it might be said, his family received nothing but a pile of
badly printed paper. The mansion and the deer park and the emblazoned
carriages are gone and forgotten; but the brave soldier, who gave up all
the pleasures of a lordly position for his country, will live in
history.

MOLLY PITCHER.

At the battle of Monmouth, where Lord Stirling so distinguished himself
for the management of the artillery, a