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memoir of William Taggart.
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and protected us. We left the shore with our raft, unperceived. A thick fog soon came up, and as it was very calm we knew not in what direction to steer. We were all night upon, or rather in, the water, as our rude bark was not strong enough to keep us entirely above the surface; and at daybreak, when the fog passed away, we found ourselves so near the Island, that we could see the sentinels leaving the shore, and were in momentary expectation of being pursued and retaken. We were, however, enabled to continue our course; and, about an hour after sunrise, we safely landed from our sinking raft, on the south point of the Island of Prudence, a distance of eight or ten miles from the spot where we embarked. From Prudence, we were taken in a boat, and conveyed to the town of Bristol; and from thence proceeded to our respective places of abode. How wonderful are the ways of Him, whose throne is in the Heavens; whose tender mercies are over all his works; whose word assures us, "that it is not in man that walketh, to direct his steps"! In the autumn following, the British forces evacuated Rhode Island, and departed for New York; and in the spring my father again removed his family to the Island,—but not to our once flourishing: and delightful abode. Not a vestige remained of our mansion, which, with every surrounding building, was totally demolished;—the orchards, the fruit, and ornamental trees were utterly destroyed; even the hay and rails were consumed; and nothing remained but a barren, uncultivated heath. This was a deplorable prospect for a man with a numerous family. This sad reverse of fortune was all attributable to the active part we had taken in behalf of our beloved country; but the love of Liberty was so closely interwoven with our nature, that they must stand or fall together. My father was advised to make application to the