When the Revolutionary troubles ran high, she came back to the old house at Peekskill, where part of her family resided. Exposed, of course, to all manner of insult and aggression, well-known herself, and in connection with her father, subsequently lieutenant-governor of this state, under Clinton, (but at that time, president of the Committee of Public Safety.) with her brother serving in the army, and many relatives and intimates, all zealous whigs and devoted Americans, her unconquerable will and high spirit bore her safely and uncompromisingly through those trying scenes. We copy from a graphic sketch, by an able and we fancy wellknown pen, the following notice of her life during this disastrous period.

" One little incident we recollect to have read in a letter written by herself, in 1777. A party of royalists, under Colonels Bayard and Fanning, came to the Peekskill house, and commencing their customary course of treatment, one insultingly asked her, 'Are you not the daughter of that old rebel Pierre van Cortlandt ?' She replied, ' I am the daughter of Pierre van Cortlandt, but it becomes not such as you to call my father a rebel.' The tory raised his musket, v/hen she, with great calmness, reproved him for his insolence and bade him begone. The coward turned away abashed, and she remained uninjured. The narrative thus continues: -- 'Her letters written about this time, many of which are now in existence, abound in patriotic spirit. Excited by personal wrongs and the aggressions she witnessed all around her, she gave vent to her feelings in most severe reproaches upon the enemy, and in fervent prayers for the American success. But although thus exposed, she refused to leave her home, and continued to reside in the same place until the close of the war.