been offered by the
government in Canada to bring me there.

"On Sunday last, Major McKinstry wrote me by express from Saratoga
that a party under Captain Jones had ambushed some time about
Saratoga, that he had certain intelligence that I was their
object, and that another party was down here with the same
intentions. I took every precaution, except that of requesting a
guard from General Clinton.

"Last night, about nine o'clock, Myers, with about twenty others,
made the attempt. He forced the gate of a close court-yard, and
afterward my kitchen door, from which servants, who had taken
alarm, flew to their arms, and by a gallant opposition at the door
of my house, afforded me time to retire out of my hall, where I
was at supper, to my bedroom, where I kept my arms. After having
made prisoners of two of the white men, wounded a third, and
obliged the other to make his escape out of the house, some
surrounded it, and others entered it. Those in the quarter exposed
to my fire immediately retired. Those who had got up into the
saloon to attempt, I suppose, the room I was in, retreated with
precipitation as soon as they heard me call, '_Come on, my lads!
surround the house; the villains are in it._' This I did to make
them believe that succor was at hand, and it had the desired
effect. They carried off two of my men, and part of my plate. The
militia from the town and some of the troops ran to my assistance,
and pursued the enemy, but too late to overtake them."

Thirty years ago, Mrs. C. V. R. Cochrane, of Oswego, the youngest child
of General Schuyler, told me the story substantially as it is told here.
Her father also related that when the family fled up stairs from the
hall, in affright, the baby was left behind in the cradle. Mrs. Schuyler
was about to rush down stairs for the child, when the General
interposed, saying, "_Your_ life is more valuable." Her daughter
Margaret, then about twelve years of age, hearing this, ran down for the
baby, snatched it from the cradle, and started up the stairs with it. An
Indian threw a tomahawk at her. It grazed the infant's head, cut a hole
in Margaret's dress, and lodged in the mahogany stair rail. That infant
became Mrs. Cochrane, and Margaret became the wife of Stephen Van
Rensselaer, the Patroon, at Albany. The mansion yet stands; and well up
the stairway