"It will be remembered that at the time of the burning of New London, Connecticut, a detachment of the army of the traitor Arnold, under whose personal direction that feat of vandalism was performed, was directed to attack and carry Fort Griswold at Groton, on the opposite side of the river. It was then under the command of Colonel Ledyard, a brave and meritorious officer, whose memory will live in the warm affections of his country, as that of one of the early martyrs to her liberty, whilst the granite pile which now lifts its summit above the spot where he was sacrificed, shall long remain to bear the record of his death. The fort was, in truth, little more than an embankment of earth, thrown up as a breast-work for the handful of troops it surrounded, and with a strong log-house in the center. The force which attacked it was altogether superior to that of its defenders, even when the difference in their position is taken into view. The case was so hopeless, that the slightest share of prudence would have suggested retreat. But the chafed and gallant spirits of Ledyard and his men would not permit them to retire before a marauding enemy, however powerful, without making at least one effort to beat him back. With a boldness and heroism scarcely ever surpassed, they stood their ground, until overwhelming numbers of the enemy were in the fort, and engaged hand to hand with its heroic defenders. Fierce and terrible, for a few moments, was the encounter, and it was not until the last ray of hope was gone, and nothing but a useless effusion of blood would have resulted from further resistance, that they at length yielded. In doing so, however, they were inclined to believe that the gallantry displayed by their little band, would at least shelter them from indignity. Ledyard had turned the handle of his sword to the commander of the assailants, and in answer to the question, 'who commands this fort,' replied, 'I did, sir, but you do now,' when he was pierced to the heart with his own weapon, and by the dastardly hand in which he had just placed it. An almost indiscriminate butchery now commenced; many falling instantly dead and some being desperately wounded. The fort was then entirely at the disposal of the enemy. The barbarity, however, did not end there. When it was found that several of the prisoners were still alive, the British soldiers piled their mangled bodies in an old cart and started it down the steep and rugged hill, towards the river, in order that they might be there drowned. But stumps and stones obstructed the passage of the cart; and when the enemy had retreated—for the aroused inhabitants of that region soon compelled them to the step—the friends of the wounded came to their aid and thus several lives were saved."[44]

One of the "ministering angels" who came the next morning to the aid of the thirty-five wounded men, who lay all night freezing in their own blood, was Miss Mary Ledyard, a near relative of the Colonel. "She brought warm chocolate, wine, and other refreshments, and while Dr. Downer of Preston was dressing their wounds, she went from one to another, administering her cordials, and breathing into their ears gentle words of sympathy and encouragement. In these labors of kindness she was assisted by another relative of the lamented Colonel Ledyard—Mrs. John Ledyard—who had also brought her household stores to refresh the sufferers, and lavished on them the most soothing personal attentions. The soldiers who recovered from their wounds, were accustomed, to the day of their death, to speak of these ladies in terms of fervent gratitude and praise."[45]