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October 20th Miss Sarah Oakley, at Mr. Nathaniel Valentine’s, Tuckeyhoe, &c.: “I don’t know whether the guides had commissions. There is none among my father’s papers. It was at General Washington’s Headquarters that my father dined when they urged him to go below as a spy.

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Several other officers besides Washington were present upon this occasion. – About a year ago (in 1850) we went to the Quaker burying ground in Purchase Street where we identified the grave of our father. After we had discovered and fixed upon it, Mr. James Carpenter who lives near by, and was present at the interment, joined us, and his recollection of the spot corresponded with ours exactly, so that in all human probability we have ascertained the right grave. We then had a plain stone prepared and put up, such as the Quakers allow. It contains simply the name of Cornelius Oakley, the time of his death, and his age and nothing more. My father frequently visited his relatives and friends, in company with the young French officers about Rochambeau, whose names he and my mother used to mention. [Lameth, Berthier, Dumas, &c.]

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I don’t know when he was taken, or how long he remained a prisoner at New York. It was, I believe, in the Sugar House in Liberty Street where he was confined. In jail he went by the name of the Quaker, in consequence, probably, of his father belonging to the Friends. He had many friends in New York who furnished him with provisions. These were always left ‘for the Quaker.’ By good address he made the jailer his warm friend. When he determined upon an escape, his city friends furnished him with citizens clothes, without which any attempt of the kind would have been fruitless. He escaped, contrary to the wishes and earnest entreaties of his brother, Isaac, who was confined along with him, by twisting and forming a rope out of the blankets cut into strips. His brother, Isaac, persisted to the last in begging him not to go, for that he would never be able to reach

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the American lines. It was sometime in the month of August, and probably in the year 1779, (?) that he effected his escape by the assistance of his fellow prisoners who after letting him down from one of the upper stories instantly drew back the rope without being observed. While this was going on, a fellow prisoner had drawn off the attention of the sentry by pointing and looking down the street at some object. It was almost the hour of noon, upon a very warm August day, when he gained the public street, and he forth with commenced walking as fast as he could in the direction of Haerlem, holding his handkerchief to his face constantly, under pretence of wiping off the perspiration. It was about the middle of the afternoon when he reached the widow Day’s Tavern at the head of Haerlem Lane. He presented himself to her and said: “I have just

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escaped from prison, and throw myself upon your protection as an old acquaintance. My life is in your power. Assist me to get off in safety.” Mrs. Day, for several minutes wrung her hands and trembled from head to foot. She then said: “You are an old friend it’s true, but what could possess you to come here? The house is filled with Refugees.” He tranquilized her. She then provided for his immediate safety by taking him upstairs to a small room of which she gave him the key. Finding that he should not able to procure a boat he asked for a cord in order that he might construct a raft for the purpose of crossing Haerlem river with dry clothes. She supplied him with one of her bed-cords, and also, at his request, with a bottle of brandy and some crackers. A signal was agreed upon between them, upon hearing which he was to escape from the house where he was in

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more danger than in the Sugar House. He waited a long time in suspense. The door was tried several times. At length the favorable moment arrived, and Mrs. Day made the signal (that is, three taps on the lower hinge of the door) which informed him that he might now retreat in safety. It was nearly dark when he reached Haerlem river, but it was a moonlight night, in prospect, and in a short time he constructed out of some rails and his rope a tolerable raft upon which he secured his clothes and refreshments. He then pushed out into the stream, but when near the middle of the Creek, his strength, which had been much reduced by sickness while in prison, began to fail, and, in addition to this, he was attacked by the cramp. Weary and discouraged he now began to despair, and, for a while, relaxed all further efforts to get across. At length, a large bird

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alighted upon his clothes, and, after remaining awhile, again took wing and flew to the West chester shore. Regarding this as a good omen, he summoned up all his remaining powers, and, after struggling for a long time forward with the raft, he at last gained footing upon the Morrisania shore. He was scarcely able to stand upright when he reached land. Although now surrounded by enemies, his knowledge of the country enabled him to escape. Concealing himself during daylight, he travelled carefully and circuitously at night, and, at length after suffering much from hunger and fatigue, he reached an American outpost.” Immediately on receiving them you shall be furnished with the copies which my brothers have sent to Washington of my father’s papers, and the affidavits accompanying them, &c. John and Isaac were brothers of my father. Isaac was a guide, but not

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John. James Oakley, my father’s cousin, was both a Lieutenant and a guide. My father married soon after the war, but in what particular year I don’t know. My mother’s maiden name was Sarah Warner. She was the daughter of John Warner who occupied and owned the most southerly farm of Philipse’s Manor.