precedents set by Lord Howe and Provost Marshal Cunningham in Colonial New York City. Soon, however, news came that General Burgoyne had capitulated to General Gates at Saratoga, when the Cunningham imprisonment modified somewhat. "We are now even given each a little butter, and a gill of rice to each, and our dried peas are allowed to be boiled," quaintly and pathetically writes the doctor; and in January, 1778, he adds, "good bread and beef and wood to burn." But soon Cornelius was taken back to the sugar house, where he found "the Hessian guards stealing our clothes and bed blankets and kicking and beating us." He became so ill, but had made himself so useful, medically, to the British surgeon that when "the rebel physician" became ill the former sent him "to the brick church hospital in the street called Wall." From this hospital the doctor one night escaped, and in a blizzard traversed the island up as high as opposite Hell Gate with almost incredible exposure, suffering and romantic incidents; whence he crossed by boat to Long Island and was cared for by secretive patriots. There is a pathetic entry in the diary--"passed at night by the house in which I was born and dared not go in lest my grandfather, a devoted loyalist should return me to prison." He eventually escaped by boat into Norwalk, Connecticut, and was enabled to rejoin the army, which was now at Valley Forge in Pennsylvania. There he shared the terrors of that patient and suffering waiting of Washington and his patriot soldiers that history has made memorable, and in his surgical capacity Dr. Cornelius was of great service to the Continental camps. Two years more he continued in surgical army duty, but through illness was obliged to seek his honorable discharge in the very year of Cornwallis' surrender at Yorktown. It was in a village by that name in the north of Westchester County that he settled as physician, but passed most of his declining years in the town of Somers, dying there in 1823. And many now old men residing in it recall hearing, when they were young, from the lips of old Dr. Cornelius the stories of his sufferings in New York City English prisons. He had a clerical son, who succeeded the father of William M. Evarts as Secretary of the American Board of Missions, and who in his turn had a son whom he named after the elder Evarts. The old army surgeon's grandchildren reside in many parts of the United States, and one of them, Mrs. Hyatt, in this city. His sword, a gift from Lafayette, whom he attended in an illness, abides on British soil in the keeping of a clerical grandson, the Rev. Tallman C. Perry, of LaPrairie, Canada. And summer residents at Mahopac Falls can in its cemetery read the tombstone of the great patriotic sufferer in the British prisons of this city, whose war journal in the possession of the Rhode Island branch of the Cincinnati Society is the basis of the foregoing narrative.