his distillery, the greater portion of which he had brought with him from Germany.  Whilst this work of search was going on without, his Lordship was quietly occupying the upper story of the family mansion, making it his headquarters.  Forney and his wife being old, were graciously allowed the privilege of living in the basement.  As soon as he was informed his gold, silver and jewelry were found, amounting to one hundred and seventy pounds sterling, he was so exasperated for the moment that he seized his gun and rushed to the stair steps with the determination to kill Cornwallis, but his wife quickly followed and intercepted him, thus preventing the most deplorable consequences—­the loss of his own life, and perhaps that of his family.  But the prudent advice of his wife, “Heaven’s last, best gift to man,” had its proper, soothing effect, and caused him to desist from his impetuous purpose.  It is hardly necessary to inform the reader he was punished in this severe manner because he was a zealous supporter of the cause of freedom, and his three sons were then in the “rebel army.”

The log house in which his lordship made his headquarters for three days and four nights is still in existence, though removed, many years since, from its original site to a more level location in the immediate vicinity.  In this humble building he, no doubt, cogitated upon the speedy subjugation of the “rebels,” and that subsequent glorification which awaits the successful hero.  Little did Cornwallis then allow himself to think that he and his whole army, in less than nine months from that time, would have to surrender to the “rebel army,” under Washington, as prisoners of war!

It is said Cornwallis, after finishing his morning repast upon the savory beef and fowls of the old patriot’s property, would come down from his headquarters, up stairs and pass along his lines of soldiers, extending for more than a mile in a northwest direction, and reaching to the adjoining plantation of his son Peter, who kept “bachelor’s hall,” but was then absent, with his brother Abram, battling for their country’s freedom.  About midway of the extended lines, and only a few steps from the road on which the British army was encamped, several granite rocks protrude from the ground.  One is about four feet high, with a rounded, weather-worn top—­a convenient place to receive his lordship’s cloak.  Another rock, nearly adjoining, is about two feet and a half high, with a flat surface gently descending, and five feet across.  At this spot Cornwallis was accustomed to dine daily with some of his officers upon the rich variety of food seized during his stay, and washing it all down, as might be aptly inferred, with a portion of the forty gallons of captured brandy previously mentioned.  This smooth-faced rock, on which his lordship and officers feasted for three days, is known in the neighborhood to this day as “Cornwallis’ Table.”  On visiting this durable remembrance of the past quite