This article about Revolutionary War hero, Captain Nathaniel Fitz Randolph, was published in 1840. It is quite certain that he must have been an extraordinary fellow to have left behind such a stunningly combative image of himself in the minds of his compatriots. —fadedpages.com

CAPTAIN NATHANIEL FITZ RANDOLPH, of Woodbridge, was one of the bravest and most intrepid men. Twice he was offered a colonel's commission in the regular army; but he preferred the command of his own select volunteers to any other service, and performed the most desperate deeds of valor.

He and his men were once surrounded by a greatly superior force of the British. Their uniform motto was "Death or Victory." The contest was maintained with great slaughter on both sides, until he stood literally alone, wading in the blood of his companions, who lay in heaps dead and wounded around him. In this condition, he seized a musket, and, being a man of great muscular strength, defended himself, and knocked down his enemies right and left with the butt-end of it, until the British commander became heartily sick of the contest, and begged that for God's sake he would desist and spare the sacrifice of human life, seeing that he must eventually fall into their hands dead or alive. He coolly replied that he was not yet a prisoner, and again placed himself in a posture of defence. The British officer renewed his entreaties, telling him he was the bravest man he ever saw, and that it was a pity so valuable a life should be lost in so unequal a contest; promising him the kindest treatment. At length, being covered with wounds, and faint and weak from fatigue and loss of blood, and no longer able to raise the weapon of defence, he reluctantly gave himself up, under the pledge that he should be well treated, and exchanged the first opportunity: which promised was faithfully performed, and he was soon again at liberty to take up his arms in defence of freedom. His bravery, intrepidity, and gigantic strength, made him a terror to the British wherever his name was known; but the tories and London traders were his most inveterate foes. A whole squad dared not encounter him in the daytime, even when he was alone.

On a certain occasion, when he was on a scouting expedition on Staten island, a party of tories secretly dogged him into a house in the evening, and, after he had laid aside his arms, rushed in upon him and made him prisoner—when, to his great grief and mortification, he remained nearly a year before he was exchanged.

At the head of his volunteers he once encountered a company of Hessians, one of whom being somewhat separated from the rest, took deliberate aim and wounded Captain R. in the arm. He plainly saw whence the ball came, the companies being very near together, and walking deliberately up to the fellow, as though he would say something to him, seized him under his sound arm, and brought him off a prisoner, while his gaping comrades stood motionless with surprise.

Captain R. was finally killed by a musket-ball in a battle near Elizabethtown, and buried at Woodbridge with the honors of war.

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