* * *
On the deck
Stands the bold Hudson, gazing at the sights
Opening successive--point and rock and hill,
Majestic mountain-top, and nestling vale.
_Alfred B. Street._
* * *
=SUGGESTIONS.=
From the Hurricane Deck of the Hudson River Day Line Steamers can
be seen, on leaving or approaching the Metropolis, one of the most
interesting panoramas in the world--the river life of Manhattan,
the massive structures of Broadway, the great Transatlantic docks,
Recreation Piers, and an ever-changing kaleidoscope of interest. The
view is especially grand on the down trip between the hours of five
and six in the afternoon, as the western sun brings the city in strong
relief against the sky. If tourists wish to fully enjoy this beautiful
view they should remain on the Hurricane Deck until the boat is well
into her Desbrosses Street slip.
=The Brooklyn Annex.=--The Brooklyn tourist is especially happy in
this delightful preface and addenda to the Hudson River trip. The
effect of morning and evening light in bringing out or in subduing the
sky-line of Manhattan is nowhere seen to greater advantage. In the
morning the buildings from the East River side stand out bold and
clear, when lo! almost instantaneously, on turning the Battery, they
are lessened and subdued. On the return trip in the evening, the
effect is reversed--a study worth the while of the traveler as he
passes to and fro on the commodious "Annex" between Desbrosses
Street Pier and Brooklyn. Surely no other city in the world rises so
beautiful from harbor line or water front as "Greater New York," with
lofty outlines of the boroughs of Manhattan and Brooklyn reminding one
of Scott's tribute to Edinburgh:
"Piled deep and massy, close and high,
Mine own romantic town!"
* * *
Down at the end of the long, dark street,
Years, years ago,
I sat with my sweetheart on the pier,
Watching the river flow.
_Richard Henry Stoddard._
* * *
[Illustration: STATUE OF LIBERTY]
=NEW YORK TO ALBANY.=
=Desbrosses Street Pier to Forty-Second Street.=
Our historic journey fittingly begins at Desbrosses Street, for here,
near the old River-front, extending from Desbrosses along Greenwich,
stood the Revolutionary line of breastworks reaching south to the
Grenadier Battery at Franklin Street. Below this were "Jersey,"
"McDougall" and "Oyster" batteries and intervening earthworks to Port
George, on the Battery, which stood on the site of old Fort Amsterdam,
carrying us back to Knickerbocker memories of Peter Stuyvesant and
Wowter Van Twiller. The view from the after-deck, before the steamer
leaves the pier, gives scope for the imagination to re-picture the
far-away primitive and heroic days of early New York.
=Desbrosses Street Pier.=--On leaving the lower landing a charming
view is obtained of New York Harbor, the Narrows, Staten Island, the
Bartholdi Statue of Liberty, and, in clear weather, far away to the
South, the Highlands of Nevisink, the first land to greet the eye
of the ocean voyager. As the steamer swings out into the stream the
tourist is at once face to face with a rapidly changing panorama.
Steamers arriving, with happy faces on their decks, from southern
ports or distant lands; others with waving handkerchiefs bidding
good-bye to friends on crowded docks; swift-shuttled ferry-boats, with
hurrying passengers, supplying their homespun woof to the great warp
of foreign or coastwise commerce; noisy tug-boats, sombre as dray
horses, drawing long lines of canal boats, or proud in the convoy of
some Atlantic greyhound that has not yet slipped its leash; dignified
"Men of War" at anchor, flying the flags of many nations, happy
excursion boats _en route_ to sea-side resorts, scows, picturesque
in their very clumsiness and uncouthness--all unite in a living
kaleidescope of beauty.
* * *
Rise, stately symbol! Holding forth
Thy light and hope to all who sit
In chains and darkness! Belt the earth
With watch-fires from thy torch uplit!
_John Greenleaf Whittier._
* * *
Across the river on the Jersey Shore are seen extensive docks of great
railways, with elevators and stations that seem like "knotted ends"
of vast railway lines, lest they might forsooth, untwist and become
irrecoverably tangled in approaching the Metropolis. Prominent among
these are the _Pennsylvania Railroad_ for the South and West; the
_Erie Railway_, the _Delaware, Lackawanna and Western_, and to the
North above Hoboken the _West Shore_, serving also as starting point
for the _New York, Ontario and Western_. Again the eye returns to
the crowded wharves and warehouses of New York, reaching from Castle
Garden beyond 30th Street, with forest-like masts and funnels of ocean
steamships, and then to prominent buildings mounting higher and higher
year by year along the city horizon, marking the course of Broadway
from the Battery, literally fulfilling the humor of Knickerbocker
in not leaving space for a breath of air for the top of old Trinity
Church spire.
=Stevens' Castle.=--About midway between Desbrosses Street and 42d
Street Pier will be seen on the Jersey Shore a wooded point with
sightly building, known as Stevens' Castle, home of the late Commodore
Stevens, founder of the Stevens Institute of Technology. Above this
are the Elysian Fields, near the river bank, known in early days as a
quiet resort but now greatly changed in the character of its visitors.
On the left will also be seen the dome and tower of St. Michael's
Monastery, and above this Union Hill.
=The Trap Rock Ridge=, which begins to show itself above the Elysian
Fields, increases gradually in height to the brow of the Palisades.
West of Bergen Heights and Union Hill flows the Hackensack River
parallel to the Hudson, and at this point only about two miles
distant.
* * *
How still with all her towers and domes
The city sleeps on yonder shore,--
How many thousand happy homes
Yon starless sky is bending o'er.
_Park Benjamin._
* * *
=Forty-Second Street to One Hundred and Twenty-Ninth.=
=The 42d Street Pier= is now at hand, convenient of access to
travelers, as the 42d Street car line crosses Manhattan intersecting
every "up and down" surface, subway or elevated road in the City,
as does also the Grand, Vestry and Desbrosses Street at the lower
landing. While passengers are coming aboard we take pleasure in
quoting the following from Baedeker's Guide to the United States: "The
Photo-Panorama of the Hudson, published by the Bryant Union Publishing
Co., New York City (price 50 cents), shows both sides of the river
from New York to Albany, accurately represented from 800 consecutive
photographs. This new and complete object-guide will be of service
to the tourist, and can be had at the steamers' news stands, head of
grand stairway, or it will be sent by publishers, postpaid, on receipt
of price."
=Weehawken= with its sad story of the duel between Hamilton and Burr
is soon seen upon the west bank. A monument once marked the spot,
erected by the St. Andrews Society of New York City on the ledge of
rock where Hamilton fell early in the morning of the eleventh of July,
1804. The quarrel between this great statesman and his malignant rival
was, perhaps, more personal than political. It is said that Hamilton,
in accordance with the old-time code of honor, accepted the challenge,
but fired into the air, while Burr with fiendish cruelty took
deliberate revenge. Burr was never forgiven by the citizens of New
York and from that hour walked its streets shunned and despised. Among
the many poetic tributes penned at the time to the memory of Hamilton,
perhaps the best was by a poet whose name is now scarcely remembered,
Mr. Robert C. Sands. A fine picture of Hamilton will be found in the
New York Chamber of Commerce where the writer was recently shown the
following concise paragraph from Talleyrand: "The three greatest men
of my time, in my opinion, were Napoleon Bonaparte, Charles James Fox
and Alexander Hamilton and the greatest of the three was Hamilton."
* * *
Where round yon capes the banks ascend
Long shall the pilgrim's footsteps bend,
There, mirthful heart shall pause to sigh,
There tears shall dim the patriot's eye.
_Robert C. Sands._
* * *
The plain marble slab which stood in the face of the monument is still
preserved by a member of the King family. It is thirty-six inches
long by twenty-six and a half inches wide and bears the following
inscription: "As an expression of their affectionate regard to his
Memory and their deep regret for his loss, the St. Andrew's Society of
the State of New York have erected this Monument."
Quite a history attaches to this stone (graphically condensed by
an old gardener of the King estate): "It stood in the face of the
monument for sixteen years, and was read by thousands, but by 1820 the
pillar had become an eyesore to the enlightened public sentiment of
the age, and an agitation was begun in the public prints for its
removal. It was not, however, organized effort, but the order of one
man, that at length demolished the pillar. This man was Captain Deas,
a peace-loving gentleman, strongly opposed to duelling and brawls,
and on seeing a party approaching the grounds often interposed and
sometimes succeeded in effecting a reconciliation. He became tired of
seeing the pillar in his daily walks, and, in 1820, ordered his men to
remove it and deposit the slab containing the inscription in one
of the outbuildings of the estate. This was done. But a few months
afterward the slab was stolen, and nothing more was heard of it until
thirteen years later, when Mr. Hugh Maxwell, president of the St.
Andrew's Society, discovered it in a junk shop in New York. He at once
purchased it and presented it to Mr. James G. King, who about this
time came into possession of the Deas property, where it has since
been carefully preserved."
This mansion of Captain Deas afterward known as the "King House on the
Cliff" was a stately residence where Washington Irving used to come
and dream of his fair Manhattan across the river. It was also the
head-quarters of Lafayette, after the battle of Brandywine.
* * *
I was an admirer of General Hamilton, and I sicken
when I think of our political broils, slanders and enmities.
_Washington Irving._
* * *
The gardener also said: "the river road beneath us is cut directly
through the spot. Originally it was simply a narrow and grassy shelf
close up under the cliffs, six feet wide and eleven paces long. A
great cedar tree stood at one end, and this sandbowlder, which we have
also preserved, was at the other. It was about twenty feet above
the river and was reached by a steep rocky path leading up from the
Hudson, and, as there was then no road or path even along the base
of the cliffs, it could be reached only by boats." The first duel at
Weehawken of which there is any record was in 1799, between Aaron Burr
and John B. Church (Hamilton's brother-in-law). The parties met and
exchanged shots; neither was wounded. The seconds then induced Church
to offer an apology and the affair terminated. The last duel was
fought there September 28, 1845, and ended in a farce, the pistols
being loaded with cork--a fitting termination to a relic of barbarism.
=Riverside Drive and Park.= Riverside Drive, on the east bank starting
at 72d Street, is pronounced the finest residential avenue in the
world. Distinguished among many noble residences is the home of
Charles M. Schwab at 73d Street, which cost two million dollars; built
on the New York Orphan Asylum plot for which he paid $860,000.
=The Soldiers and Sailors Monument=, 89th Street, a memorial to the
citizens of New York, who took part in the Civil War, a beautiful work
of art, circular in form, with Corinthian columns, erected by the city
at a cost of a quarter of million of dollars was dedicated May 30,
1902. The corner-stone was laid in 1900 by President Roosevelt, at
that time Governor. The location was well selected, and it presents
one of the most attractive features of the river front.
* * *
We celebrate our hundredth year
With thankful hearts and words of praise,
And learn a lasting lesson here
Of trust and hope for coming days.
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
=Columbia University=, on Morningside Heights, has a fine outlook,
crowning a noble site worthy of the old college, whose sons have been
to the fore since the days of the Revolution in promoting the glory
of the state and the nation. President Low has happily styled
"Morningside," which extends from 116th to 120th Streets, "The
Acropolis of the new world." The Library Building which he erected to
his father's memory, is of Greek architecture and cost $1,500,000. It
contains 300,000 volumes and is open night and day to the public. It
also marks the battle ground and American victory of Harlem Heights in
1776.
=The Cathedral of St. John the Divine= (Protestant Episcopal), now in
process of erection, occupies three blocks from 110th Street to 113th
between Morningside Park and Amsterdam Avenue. The corner stone was
laid in 1892 to be completed about 1940 at a cost of $6,000,000. The
crypt quarried out of the solid rock has been completed and services
are held in it every Sunday. Near at hand will be seen the beautiful
dome of St. Luke's Hospital.
=Grant's Tomb=, Riverside Drive and 123d Street, has the most
commanding site of the Hudson River front of New York. The bluff rises
130 feet and still retains the name of Claremont. The apex of
the memorial is 280 feet above the river. Ninety thousand people
contributed to the "Grant Monument Association fund" which, with
interest, aggregated $600,000. The corner stone was laid by President
Harrison in 1892 and dedicated April 27, 1897, on the seventy-fifth
anniversary of Grant's birth, with a great military, naval and civil
parade. The occasion was marked by an address of President McKinley
and an oration of Gen. Horace Porter, president of the Grant Monument
Association.
An attempt to remove Grant's body to Washington was made in Congress
but overwhelmingly defeated. The speech by Congressman Amos Cummings
in the House of Representatives, was a happy condensation of the
facts. He fittingly said: "New York was General Grant's chosen home.
He tried many other places but finally settled there. A house was
given to him here in Washington, but he abandoned it in the most
marked manner to buy one for himself in New York. He was a familiar
form upon her streets. He presided at her public meetings and at all
times took an active interest in her local affairs. He was perfectly
at home there and was charmed with its associations. It was the spot
on earth chosen by himself as the most agreeable to him; he meant to
live and die there. It was his home when he died. He closed his career
without ever once expressing a wish to leave it, but always to remain
in it.
"Men are usually buried at their homes. Washington was buried there;
Lincoln was buried there; Garibaldi was buried there; Gambetta was
buried there, and Ericsson was buried, not at the Capital of Sweden,
but at his own home. Those who say that New York is backward in giving
for any commendable thing either do not know her or they belie her.
Wherever in the civilized world there has been disaster by fire or
flood, or from earthquake or pestilence, she has been among the
foremost in the field of givers and has remained there when others
have departed. It is a shame to speak of her as parsimonious or as
failing in any benevolent duty. Those who charge her with being
dilatory should remember that haste is not always speed. It took more
than a quarter of a century to erect Bunker Hill Monument; the ladies
of Boston completed it. It took nearly half a century to erect a
monument to George Washington in the City founded by him, named for
him, and by his act made the Capital of the Nation; the Government
completed it. New York has already shown that she will do far better
than this."
* * *
His glory as the centuries wide,
His honor bright as sunlit seas,
His lullaby the Hudson tide,
His requiem the whispering breeze.
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
=The Thirteen Elm Trees=, about ten or fifteen minutes' walk from
General Grant's Tomb, were planted by Alexander Hamilton in his
door-yard, a century ago, to commemorate the thirteen original States.
This property was purchased by the late Hon. Orlando Potter, of New
York, with the following touch of patriotic sentiment: "These
famous trees are located in the northeast corner of One Hundred and
Forty-third street and Convent Avenue; or, on lots fourteen and
fifteen," said the auctioneer to the crowd that gathered at the sale.
"In order that the old property with the trees may be kept unbroken,
should the purchaser desire, we will sell lots 8 to 21 inclusive in
one batch! How much am I offered?" "One hundred thousand dollars,"
quietly responded Mr. Potter. A ripple of excitement ran through the
crowd, and the bid was quickly run up to $120,000 by speculators. "One
hundred and twenty-five thousand," said Mr. Potter. Then there were
several thousand dollar bids, and the auctioneer said: "Do I hear
one hundred and thirty?" Mr. Potter nodded. He nodded again at the
"thirty-five" and "forty" and then some one raised him $250. "Five
hundred," remarked Mr. Potter, and the bidding was done. "Sold for
$140,500!" cried the auctioneer. Mr. Potter smiled and drew his check
for the amount. "I can't say what I will do with the property," said
Mr. Potter. "You can rest assured, however, that the trees will not be
cut down."
* * *
Rest in peace by stately rivers martyred soldiers of the free,
Rest brave captain, at our threshold, where the Hudson meets the sea.
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
=Edgewater=, opposite Grant's Tomb on the west bank, lies between
Undercliff on the north and Shadyside on the south. The latter place
was made historic by Anthony Wayne's capture of supplies for the
American army in the summer of 1780 which formed the basis of a
satirical poem by Major Andre, entitled ="The Cow Chase."=
The steamer is now approaching 129th street, and we turn again with
pride to the beautiful tomb of General Grant which fittingly marks one
point of a great triangle of fame--the heroic struggle of the American
soldiers in 1776, the home of Alexander Hamilton, and the burial place
of the greatest soldier of the Civil War.
* * *
Woodman, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
And I will protect it now.
_George P. Morris._
* * *
=One Hundred and Twenty-Ninth Street to Yonkers.=
This upper landing of the Hudson River Day Line has a beautiful
location and is a great convenience to the dwellers of northern
Manhattan. On leaving the pier the steel-arched structure of
Riverside Drive is seen on the right. The valley here spanned, in the
neighborhood of 127th Street, was once known as "Marritje Davids'
Fly," and the local name for this part of New York above Claremont
Heights is still known as "Manhattanville." The Convent of the Sacred
Heart is visible among the trees, and
=Trinity Cemetery's Monuments= soon gleam along the wooded bank. Among
her distinguished dead is the grave of General John A. Dix whose words
rang across the land sixty days before the attack on Fort Sumter:
"If any man attempts to pull down the American flag shoot him on the
spot." The John A. Dix Post of New York comes hither each Decoration
Day and garlands with imposing ceremonies his grave and the graves of
their comrades.
Near Carmansville was the home of Audubon, the ornithologist, and the
residences above the cemetery are grouped together as Audubon Park.
Near at hand is the New York Institute for the Deaf and Dumb, and
pleasantly located near the shore the River House once known as
West-End Hotel.
=Washington Heights= rise in a bold bluff above Jeffrey's Hook. After
the withdrawal of the American army from Long Island, it became
apparent to General Washington and Hamilton that New York would have
to be abandoned. General Greene and Congress believed in maintaining
the fort, but future developments showed that Washington was right.
The American troops, so far as clothing or equipment was concerned,
were in a pitiable condition, and the result of the struggle makes one
of the darkest pages of the war. On the 12th of November Washington
started from Stony Point for Fort Lee and arrived the 13th, finding
to his disappointment that General Greene, instead of having made
arrangements for evacuating, was, on the contrary, reinforcing Fort
Washington. The entire defense numbered only about 2000 men, mostly
militia, with hardly a coat, to quote an English writer, "that was not
out at the elbows." "On the night of the 14th thirty flat-bottomed
boats stole quietly up the Hudson, passed the American forts
undiscovered, and made their way through Spuyten Duyvil Creek into
Harlem River. The means were thus provided for crossing that river,
and landing before unprotected parts of the American works."
* * *
Faith's pioneers and Freedom's martyrs sleep
Beneath their shade: and under their old boughs
The wise and brave of generations past
Walked every Sabbath to the house of God.
_Henry T. Tuckerman._
* * *
According to Irving, "On the 15th General Howe sent a summons to
surrender, with a threat of extremities should he have to carry the
place by assault." Magaw, in his reply, intimated a doubt that General
Howe would execute a threat "so unworthy of himself and the British
nation; but give me leave," added he, "to assure his Excellency, that,
actuated by the most glorious cause that mankind ever fought in, I am
determined to defend this post to the very last extremity."
"Apprised by the colonel of his peril, General Greene sent over
reinforcements, with an exhortation to him to persist in his
defense; and dispatched an express to General Washington, who was at
Hackensack, where the troops from Peekskill were encamped. It was
nightfall when Washington arrived at Fort Lee. Greene and Putnam were
over at the besieged fortress. He threw himself into a boat, and had
partly crossed the river, when he met those Generals returning. They
informed him of the garrison having been reinforced, and assured him
that it was in high spirits, and capable of making a good defense. It
was with difficulty, however, they could prevail on him to return with
them to the Jersey shore, for he was excessively excited."
* * *
Hark! Freedom's arms ring far and wide;
Again these forts with beacons gleam;
Loud cannon roar on every side--
I start, I wake; I did but dream.
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
"Early the next morning, Magaw made his dispositions for the expected
attack. His forces, with the recent addition, amounted to nearly three
thousand men. As the fort could not contain above a third of its
defenders, most of them were stationed about the outworks."
About noon, a heavy cannonade thundered along the rocky hills, and
sharp volleys of musketry, proclaimed that the action was commenced.
"Washington, surrounded by several of his officers, had been an
anxious spectator of the battle from the opposite side of the Hudson.
Much of it was hidden from him by intervening hills and forest; but
the roar of cannonry from the valley of the Harlem River, the sharp
and incessant reports of rifles, and the smoke rising above the
tree-tops, told him of the spirit with which the assault was received
at various points, and gave him for a time hope that the defense might
be successful. The action about the lines to the south lay open to
him, and could be distinctly seen through a telescope; and nothing
encouraged him more than the gallant style in which Cadwalader with
inferior force maintained his position. When he saw him however,
assailed in flank, the line broken, and his troops, overpowered by
numbers, retreating to the fort, he gave up the game as lost. The
worst sight of all, was to behold his men cut down and bayoneted by
the Hessians while begging quarter. It is said so completely to have
overcome him, that he wept with the tenderness of a child."
"Seeing the flag go into the fort from Knyphausen's division, and
surmising it to be a summons to surrender, he wrote a note to Magaw,
telling him if he could hold out until evening and the place could
not be maintained, he would endeavor to bring off the garrison in the
night. Capt. Gooch, of Boston, a brave and daring man, offered to be
the bearer of the note. He ran down to the river, jumped into a small
boat, pushed over the river, landed under the bank, ran up to the fort
and delivered the message, came out, ran and jumped over the broken
ground, dodging the Hessians, some of whom struck at him with their
pieces and others attempted to thrust him with their bayonets;
escaping through them, he got to his boat and returned to Fort Lee."
* * *
Up and down the valley of the Hudson the contending
armies surged like the ebbing and flowing of the tides.
_William Wait._
* * *
Washington's message arrived too late. "The fort was so crowded by
the garrison and the troops which had retreated into it, that it was
difficult to move about. The enemy, too, were in possession of the
little redoubts around, and could have poured in showers of shells and
ricochet balls that would have made dreadful slaughter." It was no
longer possible for Magaw to get his troops to man the lines; he was
compelled, therefore, to yield himself and his garrison prisoners of
war. The only terms granted them were, that the men should retain
their baggage and the officers their swords.
=Fort Lee=, directly across the river, had a commanding position, but
was entirely useless to the Revolutionary army after the fall of Fort
Washington. It was therefore immediately abandoned to the British, as
was also Fort Constitution, another redoubt near at hand.
It will be remembered that the American army after long continued
disaster in and about New York, retreated southward from Fort Lee and
Hackensack to the Delaware, where Washington with a strategic stroke
brought dismay on his enemies and restored confidence to his friends
and the Patriots' Cause.
=The Palisades, or Great Chip Rock=, as they were known by the old
Dutch settlers, present the same bold front to the river that the
Giant's Causeway does to the ocean. Their height at Fort Lee, where
the bold cliffs first assert themselves, is three hundred feet, and
they extend about seventeen or eighteen miles to the hills of Rockland
County. A stroll along the summit reveals the fact that they are
almost as broken and fantastic in form as the great rocks along the
Elbe in Saxon-Switzerland.
* * *
The Palisades in sterner pride
Tower as the gloom steals o'er the tide,
For the great stream a bulwark meet
That laves its rock-encumbered feet.
_Robert C. Sands._
* * *
As the basaltic trap-rock is one of the oldest geological formations,
we might still appropriately style the Palisades "a chip of the old
block." They separate the valley of the Hudson from the valley of the
Hackensack. The Hackensack rises in Rockland Lake opposite Sing Sing,
within two or three hundred yards of the Hudson, and the rivers flow
thirty miles side by side. Some geologists think that originally they
were one river, but they are now separated from each other by a wall
more substantial than even the 2,000 mile structure of the "Heathen
Chinee."
It might also be interesting to note Prof. Newberry's idea that in
pre-glacial times this part of the continent was several hundred feet
higher than at present, and that the Hudson was a very rapid stream
and much larger than now, draining as it did the Great Lakes: that the
St. Lawrence found its way through the Hudson Channel following pretty
nearly the line of the present Mohawk, and the great river emptied
into the Atlantic some 80 miles south of Staten Island. This idea is
confirmed by the soundings of the coast survey which discover the
ancient page of the Hudson as here indicated on the floor of the sea
far out where the ocean is 500 feet in depth. A speculation of what a
voyager a few million years ago would have then seen might, however,
as Hamlet observes, be "to consider somewhat too curiously" for
ordinary up-to-date tourists. But even, granting all this to be true,
the Palisades were already old, thrown up long ages before, between
a rift in the earth's surface, where it cooled in columnar form.
The rocky mould which held it, being of softer material, finally
disintegrated and crumbled away, leaving the cliff with its peculiar
perpendicular formation.
A recent writer has said: "The Palisades are among the wonders of the
world. Only three other places equal them in importance, but each of
the four is different from the others, and the Palisades are unique.
The Giant's Causeway on the north coast of Ireland, and the cliffs at
Kawaddy in India, are thought by many to have been the result of the
same upheaval of nature as the Palisades; but the Hudson rocks seem
to have preserved their entirety--to have come up in a body, as it
were--while the Giant's Causeway owes its celebrity to the ruined
state in which the Titanic forces of nature have left it. The third
wonder is at Staffa, in Scotland, where the rocks have been thrown
into such a position as to justify the name of Fingal's Cave, which
they bear, and which was bestowed on them in the olden times before
Scottish history began to be written. It is singular how many of the
names which dignify, or designate, favorite spots of the Giant's
Causeway have been duplicated in the Palisades. Among the Hudson rocks
are several 'Lady's Chairs,' 'Lover's Leaps,' 'Devil's Toothpicks,'
'Devil's Pulpits,' and, in many spots on the water's edge, especially
those most openly exposed to the weather, we see exactly the same
conformations which excite admiration and wonder in the Irish rocks."
* * *
Where the mighty cliffs look upward in their glory and their glow
I see a wondrous river in its beauty southward flow.
_Thomas C. Harbaugh._
* * *
Under the base of these cliffs William Cullen Bryant one Sabbath
morning wrote his beautiful lines:
"Cool shades and dews are round my way,
And silence of the early day;
Mid the dark rocks that watch his bed,
Glitters the mighty Hudson spread,
Unrippled, save by drops that fall
From shrubs that fringe his mountain wall;
And o'er the clear, still water swells
The music of the Sabbath bells.
All, save this little nook of land,
Circled with trees, on which I stand;
All, save that line of hills which lie
Suspended in the mimic sky--
Seems a blue void, above, below,
Through which the white clouds come and go;
And from the green world's farthest steep
I gaze into the airy deep."
* * *
A mellow sunset was settling upon the hills and
waters and a thousand flashes played over the distant
city as its spires and prominent objects caught its glow.
_N. P. Willis._
* * *
There are many strange stories connected with the Palisades, and
one narrator says: "remarkable disappearances have occurred in the
vicinity that have never been explained. On a conical-shaped rock near
Clinton Point a young man and a young woman were seen standing some
half a century ago. Several of their friends, who were back some
thirty feet from the face of the cliff, saw them distinctly, and
called out to them not to approach too near the edge. The young couple
laughingly sent some answer back, and a moment later vanished as by
magic. Their friends rushed to the edge of the cliff but saw no trace
of them. They noticed at once that the tide was out, and at the base
three or four boatmen were sauntering about as though nothing had
happened (forgetting even, as Bryant did, that a vertical line from
the top of the cliff on account of the crumbling debris of ages makes
it impossible for even the strongest arm to hurl a stone from the
summit to the margin of the river). A diligent search was instituted.
Friends and boatmen joined in the search, but from that day to this
they have never been heard from, no trace of them has been found, and
the mystery of their disappearance is as complete now as it was five
minutes after they vanished--a more tragical termination than the
story of the old pilot on a Lake George steamer, who, surrounded one
morning by a group of tourist-questioners, pointed to Roger Slide
Mountain, and said: "A couple went up there and never came back
again." "What do you suppose, captain," said a fair-haired, anxious
listener, "ever became of them?" "Can't tell," said the captain, "some
folks said they went down on the other side.""
The old Palisade Mountain House, a few miles above Fort Lee, had
a commanding location, but was burned in 1884 and never rebuilt.
Pleasant villas are here and there springing up along this rocky
balcony of the lower Hudson, and probably the entire summit will some
day abound in castles and luxuriant homes. It is in fact within the
limit of possibility that this may in the future present the finest
residential street in the world, with a natural macadamized boulevard
midway between the Hudson and the sky.
* * *
What love yon cliffs and steeps could tell
If vocal made by Fancy's spell!
_Robert C. Sands._
* * *
It grieves one to see the gray rocks torn away for building material,
but, as fast as man destroys, nature kindly heals the wound; or to
keep the Palisade figure more complete, she recaptures the scarred and
broken battlements, unfolding along the steep escarpment her waving
standards of green. It sometimes seems as if one can almost see her
selecting the easiest point of attack, marshalling her forces, running
her parallels with Boadicea-like skill, and carrying her streaming
banners, more real than Macbeth's "Birnam-Wood" to crowning rampart
and lofty parapet.
The New York side from the Battery to Inwood, the northern end of
Manhattan Island, is already "well peopled." Until recently the land
about Fort Washington has been held in considerable tracts and
the very names of these suburban points suggest altitude and
outlook--Highbridgeville, Fordham Heights, Morris Heights, University
Heights, Kingsbridge Heights, Mount Hope, &c. The growth of the city
all the way to Jerome and Van Cortlandt's Park during the last few
years has been marvelous. It has literally stepped over the Harlem to
find room in the picturesque county of Westchester.
=The Island of Manhattan.=--As we approach the northern limit of
Manhattan we feel that in the preservation of the beautiful name
"Manhattan," distinctive of New York's chief borough, Irving's dream
has been happily realized. The meaning of this Indian word has been
the subject of much discussion. It is, however, simply the name of a
tribe. As the old historian De Laet says, "On the east side, on the
main land dwell the Manhattoes," and again from the "Documentary
History of New York." "It is so called from the people which inhabited
the main land on the east side of the river."
* * *
Pleasant it is to lie amid the grass,
Under these shady locusts half the day,
Watching the ships reflected in the Bay,
Topmast and shroud, as in a wizard's glass.
_Thomas Bailey Aldrich._
* * *
[Illustration: INDIAN HEAD, PALISADES]
The word Manhattan signifies also it is said: "The People of the
Islands," and it was evidently used by the Indians as a generic term
designating the inhabitants of the island itself, and also of Long
Island and the Neversink. This is in accordance with the testimony of
Van der Donck. With Irving we all recognize the music and poetry
of the name and are proud that our river of beauty is so happily
heralded.
=Spuyten Duyvil Creek.=--Above Washington Heights, on the east bank,
the _Spuyten Duyvil_ meets the Hudson. This stream is the northern
boundary of New York Island, and a short distance east of the Hudson
bears the name of Harlem River. Its course is southeast and joins the
East River at Randall's Island, just above Hell Gate. It is a curious
fact that this modest stream should be bounded by such suggestive
appellations as Hell Gate and Spuyten Duyvil. This is the first point
of special legendary interest to one journeying up the Hudson and it
takes its name according to the veracious Knickerbocker, from the
following incident: It seems that the famous Antony Van Corlear was
despatched one evening with an important message up the Hudson. When
he arrived at this creek the wind was high, the elements were in an
uproar, and no boatman at hand. "For a short time," it is said, "he
vapored like an impatient ghost upon the brink, and then, bethinking
himself of the urgency of his errand, took a hearty embrace of his
stone bottle, swore most valorously that he would swim across _en
spijt en Duyvil_ (in spite of the Devil), and daringly plunged into
the stream. Scarce had he buffeted half way over when he was observed
to struggle violently, as if battling with the spirit of the waters.
Instinctively he put his trumpet to his mouth, and giving a vehement
blast--sank forever to the bottom."
* * *
O legends full of life and health,
That live when records fail and die,
Ye are the Hudson's richest wealth,
The frondage of her history!
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
The main branch of the Hudson River Railroad, with its station at
Forty-second Street and Fourth Avenue, crosses the Harlem River at
Mott Haven, and, following its northern bank, meets the Hudson at this
point, where the 30th Street branch, following the river, joins the
main line. The steamer now passes Riverdale, with its beautiful
residences and the Convent of Mount St. Vincent, one of the prominent
landmarks of the Hudson, located on grounds bought of Edwin Forrest,
the tragedian, whose "Font Hill Castle" appears in the foreground, and
we come to
=Yonkers=, on the east bank, seventeen miles from New York, at the
mouth of the Nepperhan. West of the creek is a large rock, called
A-mac-lea-sin, the great stone to which the Indians paid reverence as
an evidence of the permanency and immutability of their deity. The
Mahican Village at the mouth of the creek was called Nappechemak.
European settlements were made as early as 1639, as shown by deeds of
purchase. Here are many important manufacturing industries: carpet,
silk, and hat factories; mowers and reapers, gutta percha, rubber and
pencil companies. Its "Recreation Pavilion" on the pier was a noble
thing for the city to build--costing $50,000. The structure is of
steel and capable of accommodating 5,000 people.
It is said that Yonkers derived its name from Yonk-herr--the young
heir, or young sir, of the Phillipse manor. Until after the middle
of the seventeenth century the Phillipse family had their principal
residence at Castle Phillipse, Sleepy Hollow, but having purchased
"property to the southward" from Adrian Van der Donck and obtained
from the English king a patent creating the manor of Phillipsburgh,
they moved from their old castle to the new "Manor Hall," which at
this time was probably the finest mansion on the Hudson. This property
was confiscated by act of Legislature in 1779, as Frederick Phillipse,
third lord of the manor, was thought to lean toward royalty, and
sold by the "Commissioners of Forfeiture" in 1785. It was afterwards
purchased by John Jacob Astor, then passed to the Government, was
bought by the village of Yonkers in 1868, and became the City Hall in
1872. The older portion of the house was built in 1682, the present
front in 1745. The woodwork is very interesting, also the ceilings,
the large hall and the wide fire-place. In the room still pointed out
as Washington's, the fire-place retains the old tiles, "illustrating
familiar passages in Bible history," fifty on each side, looking as
clear as if they were made but yesterday.
* * *
Once more I walk in the dark old street
Wearily to and fro:--
But I sit no more on the desolate pier
Watching the river flow.
_Richard Henry Stoddard._
* * *
Mary Phillipse, belle of the neighborhood, and known in tradition as
Washington's first love, was born in the "Manor House" July 3, 1730.
Washington first met her on a visit to New York in 1756, after his
return from Braddock's campaign, as guest of Beverly Robinson, who had
married her elder sister.
It has been claimed by some writers that he proposed and was rejected,
but it is doubtful whether he ever was serious in his attentions.
At least there is no evidence that he ever "told his love," and she
finally married Col. Roger Morris, one of Washington's associates on
Braddock's staff. The best part of residential Yonkers lies to the
northward, beautifully embowered in trees as seen from the Hudson. A
line of electric street cars run north along Warburton Avenue. The
street known as Broadway, is a continuation of Broadway, New York.
Many of the river towns still keep this name, probably prophetic as a
part of the great Broadway which may extend some day from the Battery
to Peekskill.
Almost opposite Yonkers a ravine or sort of step-ladder cleft, now
known as Alpine Gorge, reaches up the precipitous sides of the
Palisades. The landing here was formerly called Closter's, from which
a road zigzags to the top of the cliff and thence to Closter Village.
Here Lord Grey disembarked in October, 1778, and crossed to Hackensack
Valley, "surprising and massacring Col. Bayler's patriots, despite
their surrender and calls for mercy."
Indian Head (510 feet) about two miles north of Alpine Gorge, is the
highest point of the Palisades.
* * *
Eve o'er our path is stealing fast;
Yon quivering splendors are the last;
His latest glories fringe the height
Behind us with their golden light.
_Robert C. Sands._
* * *
=Yonkers to West Point=
Passing Glenwood, now a suburban station of Yonkers, conspicuous from
the Colgate mansion near the river bank, built by a descendant of
the English Colgates who were familiar friends of William Pitt, and
leaders of the Liberal Club in Kent, England, and "Greystone," once
the country residence of the late Samuel J. Tilden, Governor of New
York, and presidential candidate in 1876, we come to
=Hastings=, where a party of Hessians during the Revolutionary
struggle were surprised and cut to pieces by troops under Colonel
Sheldon. It was here also that Lord Cornwallis embarked for Fort Lee
after the capture of Fort Washington, and here in 1850 Garibaldi,
the liberator of Italy, whose centennial was observed July 4, 1907,
frequently came to spend the Sabbath and visit friends when he was
living at Staten Island. Although there is apparently little to
interest in the village, there are many beautiful residences in the
immediate neighborhood, and the Old Post road for two miles to the
northward furnishes a beautiful walk or driveway, well shaded by old
locust trees. The tract of country from Spuyten Duyvil to Hastings was
called by the Indians Kekesick and reached east as far as the Bronx
River.
=Dobbs Ferry= is now at hand, named after an old Swedish ferryman. The
village has not only a delightful location but it is also beautiful in
itself. In 1781 it was Washington's headquarters, and the old house,
still standing, is famous as the spot where General Washington and the
Count de Rochambeau planned the campaign against Yorktown; where the
evacuation of New York was arranged by General Clinton and Sir Guy
Carleton the British commander, and where the first salute to the flag
of the United States was fired by a British man-of-war. A deep glen,
known as Paramus, opposite Dobbs Ferry, leads to Tappan and New
Jersey. Cornwallis landed here in 1776. It is now known as Snedden's
Landing.
* * *
A lovely country for a summer encampment, breezy
hills commanding wide prospects, shady valleys watered
by bright pastoral streams, the Bronx, the Spraine and
the Neperan.
_Washington Irving._
* * *
At Dobbs Ferry, June 14, 1894, the base-stone of a memorial shaft was
laid with imposing ceremony by the New York State Society of the Sons
of the American Revolution, which erected the monument. There were one
thousand Grand Army veterans in line, and addresses by distinguished
orators and visitors. The Society and its guests, including members
of the cabinet, officers of the army and navy, and prominent men of
various States, accompanied by full Marine Band of the navy yard, with
a detachment of Naval Reserves, participated in the event.
Voyagers up the river that day saw the "Miantonomoh" and the
"Lancaster," under the command of Rear-Admiral Gherardi, anchored
mid-stream to take part in the exercises. During the Revolution this
historic house was leased by a Dutch farmer holding under Frederick
Phillipse as landlord. After the war it was purchased by Peter
Livingston and known since as the Livingston House. Arnold and Andre
were to have met here but providentially for the American cause, the
meeting took place at Haverstraw.
The Indian name of Dobbs Ferry was Wecquaskeck, and it is said by
Ruttenber that the outlines of the old Indian village can still be
traced by numerous shell-beds. It was located at the mouth of Wicker's
Creek which was called by the Indians Wysquaqua.
=Tappan Zee.=--The steamer is now entering Irving's rich domain, and
Tappan Zee lapping the threshold of "Sunnyside," seems almost a part
of his very dooryard. The river, which has averaged about a mile in
breadth, begins to gradually widen at Hastings, and almost seems like
a gentle, reposeful lake.
=Piermont=, whose "mile-long-pier," built many years ago by the Erie
Railroad, hardly mars the landscape so great is the majesty of the
river, is seen on the west bank with Tower Hill rising above it from
which four states are seen. The view includes Long Island, the Sound
and the Orange Mountains on the south, with the Catskills to the north
and Berkshires to the northeast. Louis Gaylord Clark, a friend of
Irving, and an early literary associate had a cottage on Piermont
Hills.
* * *
We have a charming position for our French encampment
along the Hudson among rocks and under magnificent tulip trees.
_Count Dumas._
* * *
Turning to the eastern shore, we see "Nuits," the Cottinet residence,
Italian in style, built of Caen stone, "Nevis," home of the late Col.
James Hamilton, son of Alexander Hamilton, the George L. Schuyler
mansion, the late Cyrus W. Field's, and many pleasant places about
Abbotsford, and come to
=Irvington=, on the east bank, 24 miles from New York, once known as
Dearman's, but changed in compliment to the great writer and lover of
the Hudson, who after a long sojourn in foreign lands, returned to
live by the tranquil waters of Tappan Zee. In a letter to his brother
he refers to Sleepy Hollow as the favorite resort of his boyhood, and
says: "The Hudson is in a manner my first and last love, and after
all my wanderings and seeming infidelities, I return to it with
a heartfelt preference over all the rivers of the world." As at
Stratford-on-Avon every flower is redolent of Shakespeare, and at
Melrose every stone speaks of Walter Scott, so here on every breeze
floats the spirit of Washington Irving. A short walk of half a mile
north from the station brings us to his much-loved
="Sunnyside."= Irving aptly describes it in one of his stories as
"made up of gable-ends, and full of angles and corners as an old
cocked hat. It is said, in fact, to have been modeled after the hat of
Peter the Headstrong, as the Escurial of Spain was fashioned after the
gridiron of the blessed St. Lawrence." Wolfert's Roost, as it was once
styled (Roost signifying Rest), took its name from Wolfert Acker, a
former owner. It consisted originally of ten acres when purchased by
Irving in 1835, but eight acres were afterwards added. With great
humor Irving put above the porch entrance "George Harvey, Boum'r,"
Boumeister being an old Dutch word for architect. A storm-worn
weather-cock, "which once battled with the wind on the top of the
Stadt House of New Amsterdam in the time of Peter Stuyvesant, erects
his crest on the gable, and a gilded horse in full gallop, once the
weather-cock of the great Van der Heyden palace of Albany, glitters in
the sunshine, veering with every breeze, on the peaked turret over the
portal."
* * *
Irving chose his residence in the valley, not amid
the mountains; by the fields and meadows of the broad
Tappan Zee, rather than the Highlands; in a congenial
region suited to his temperament.
_Dr. Bethune._
* * *
About fifty years ago a cutting of Walter Scott's favorite ivy at
Melrose Abbey was transported across the Atlantic, and trained over
the porch of "Sunnyside," by the hand of Mrs. Renwick, daughter of
Rev. Andrew Jeffrey of Lochmaben, known in girlhood as the "Bonnie
Jessie" of Annandale, or the "Blue-eyed Lassie" of Robert Burns:--a
graceful tribute, from the shrine of Waverley to the nest of
Knickerbocker:
A token of friendship immortal
With Washington Irving returns:--
Scott's ivy entwined o'er his portal
By the Blue-eyed Lassie of Burns.
Scott's cordial greeting at Abbotsford, and his persistence in getting
Murray to reconsider the publication of the "Sketch Book," which he
had previously declined, were never forgotten by Irving. It was during
a critical period of his literary career, and the kindness of the
Great Magician, in directing early attention to his genius, is still
cherished by every reader of the "Sketch Book" from Manhattan to
San Francisco. The hearty grasp of the Minstrel at the gateway of
Abbotsford was in reality a warm handshake to a wider brotherhood
beyond the sea.
* * *
In purple tints woven together
The Hudson shakes hands with the Tweed,
Commingling with Abbotsford's heather
The clover of Sunnyside's mead.
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
=Washington Irving.=--While he was building "Sunnyside," a letter came
from Daniel Webster, then Secretary of State, appointing him minister
to Spain. It was unexpected and unsolicited, and Webster remarked that
day to a friend: "Washington Irving to-day will be the most surprised
man in America." Irving had already shown diplomatic ability in London
in promoting the settlement of the "North Western Boundary," and his
appointment was received with universal favor. Then as now Sunnyside
was already a Mecca for travelers, and, among many well-known to fame,
was a young man, afterwards Napoleon the Third. Referring to his
visit, Irving wrote in 1853: "Napoleon and Eugenie, Emperor and
Empress! The one I have had as a guest at my cottage, the other I have
held as a pet child upon my knee in Granada. The last I saw of Eugenie
Montijo, she was one of the reigning belles of Madrid; now, she is
upon the throne, launched from a returnless shore, upon a dangerous
sea, infamous for its tremendous shipwrecks. Am I to live to see the
catastrophe of her career, and the end of this suddenly conjured up
empire, which seems to be of such stuff as dreams are made of?
I confess my personal acquaintance with the individuals in this
historical romance gives me uncommon interest in it; but I consider
it stamped with danger and instability, and as liable to extravagant
vicissitudes as one of Dumas' novels." A wonderful prophecy completely
fulfilled in the short space of seventeen years.
* * *
How many such men as Washington Irving are there
in America. God don't send many such spirits into this
world.
_Lord Byron._
* * *
The aggregate sale of Irving's works when he received his portfolio
to Spain was already more than half a million copies, with an equal
popularity achieved in Britain. No writer was ever more truly loved
on both sides of the Atlantic, and his name is cherished to-day in
England as fondly as it is in our own country. It has been the good
fortune of the writer to spend many a delightful day in the very
centre of Merrie England, in the quiet town of Stratford-on-Avon,
and feel the gentle companionship of Irving. Of all writers who have
brought to Stratford their heart homage Irving stands the acknowledged
chief. The sitting-room in the "Red Horse Hotel," where he was
disturbed in his midnight reverie, is still called Irving's room, and
the walls are hung with portraits taken at different periods of his
life. Mine host said that visitors from every land were as much
interested in this room as in Shakespeare's birth-place. The remark
may have been intensified to flatter an American visitor, but there
are few names dearer to the Anglo-Saxon race than that on the plain
headstone in the burial-yard of Sleepy Hollow. Sunnyside is scarcely
visible to the Day Line tourist. A little gleam of color here
and there amid the trees, close to the river bank, near a small
boat-house, merely indicates its location; and the traveler by train
has only a hurried glimpse, as it is within one hundred feet of the
New York Central Railroad. Tappan Zee, at this point, is a little more
than two miles wide and over the beautiful expanse Irving has thrown
a wondrous charm. There is, in fact, "magic in the web" of all his
works. A few modern critics, lacking appreciation alike for humor and
genius, may regard his essays as a thing of the past, but as long as
the Mahicanituk, the ever-flowing Hudson, pours its waters to the
sea, as long as Rip Van Winkle sleeps in the blue Catskills, or the
"Headless Horseman" rides at midnight along the Old Post Road _en
route_ for Teller's Point, so long will the writings of Washington
Irving be remembered and cherished. We somehow feel the reality of
every legend he has given us. The spring bubbling up near his cottage
was brought over, as he gravely tells us, in a churn from Holland by
one of the old time settlers, and we are half inclined to believe it;
and no one ever thinks of doubting that the "Flying Dutchman," Mynheer
Van Dam, has been rowing for two hundred years and never made a port.
It is in fact still said by the old inhabitants, that often in the
soft twilight of summer evenings, when the sea is like glass and the
opposite hills throw their shadows across it, that the low vigorous
pull of oars is heard but no boat is seen.
[Illustration: NORTHERN POINT OF PALISADES]
* * *
Here was no castle in the air, but a realized day-dream.
Irving was there, as genial, humorous and imaginative
as if he had never wandered from the primal
haunts of his childhood and his fame.
_Henry T. Tuckerman._
* * *
According to Irving "Sunnyside" was once the property of old Baltus
Van Tassel, and here lived the fair Katrina, beloved by all the youths
of the neighborhood, but more especially by Ichabod Crane, the country
school-master, and a reckless youth by the name of Van Brunt. Irving
tells us that he thought out the story one morning on London Bridge,
and went home and completed it in thirty-six hours. The character of
Ichabod Crane was a sketch of a young man whom he met at Kinderhook
when writing his Knickerbocker history. It will be remembered that
Ichabod Crane went to a quilting-bee at the home of Mynheer Van
Tassel, and, after the repast, was regaled with various ghost stories
peculiar to the locality. When the "party" was over he lingered for
a time with the fair Katrina, but sallied out soon after with an air
quite desolate and chop-fallen. The night grew darker and darker. He
had never before felt so lonesome and miserable. As he passed the
fatal tree where Arnold was captured, there started up before him the
identical "Headless Horseman" to whom he had been introduced by the
story of Brom Bones. Nay, not entirely headless; for the head which
"should have rested upon his shoulders was carried before him on the
pommel of the saddle. His terror rose to desperation. He rode for
death and life. The strange horseman sped beside him at an equal pace.
He fell into a walk. The strange horseman did the same. He endeavored
to sing a psalm-tune, but his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth.
If he could but reach the bridge Ichabod thought he would be safe.
Away then he flew in rapid flight. He reached the bridge, he thundered
over the resounding planks. Then he saw the goblin rising in his
stirrups, and in the very act of launching his head at him. It
encountered his cranium with a tremendous crash. He was tumbled
headlong into the dirt, and the black steed and the spectral rider
passed by like a whirlwind. The next day tracks of horses deeply
dented in the road were traced to the bridge, beyond which, on the
bank of a broad part of the brook, where the water ran deep and black,
was found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a
shattered pumpkin." All honor to him who fills this working-day world
with humor, romance and beauty!
* * *
I beg you will have the kindness to let me know when
Mr. Irving takes pen in hand again; for assuredly I
shall expect a very great treat which I may chance never
to hear of but through your kindness.
_Walter Scott._
* * *
I want to visit Washington Irving, I want to see your
stupendous scenery, I want to go to the grave of
Washington.
_Lord Byron._
* * *
=Lyndehurst=, Helen M. Gould's residence. A short distance north of
"Sunnyside" is the home of Helen M. Gould, whose modest and liberal
use of wealth in noble charities has endeared her to every American
heart. The place was first known as the Paulding Manor House, where
William Paulding, early mayor of New York, and nephew of one of the
captors of Andre had his country home. It is a beautiful specimen of
old time English architecture, with a suggestion, as some writers have
noted, of Newstead Abbey. This part of the Hudson is particularly rich
in beautiful residences, rising tier upon tier from the river to the
horizon. Albert Bierstadt, the artist, had here a beautiful home,
unfortunately burned many years ago.
=The Old Post Road= from New York to Albany is in many particulars the
richest and greatest highway of our country.
=Tappan.=--Almost opposite Irvington about two miles southwest of
Piermont, is old Tappantown, where Major Andre was executed October
2, 1780. The removal of his body from Tappan to Westminster was by a
special British ship, and a singular incident was connected with it.
The roots of a cypress tree were found entwined about his skull and a
scion from the tree was carried to England and planted in the garden
adjoining Windsor Palace. It is a still more curious fact that the
tree beneath which Andre was captured was struck by lightning on the
day of Benedict Arnold's death in London. Further reference will be
made to Andre in our description of Tarrytown, and also of Haverstraw,
where Arnold and Andre met at the house of Joshua Hett Smith.
=Tarrytown=, 26 miles from New York. It was here on the Old Post Road,
now called Broadway, a little north of the village, that Andre was
captured and Arnold's treachery exposed. A monument erected on the
spot by the people of Westchester County, October 7, 1853, bears the
inscription:
ON THIS SPOT, THE 23D DAY OF SEPTEMBER, 1780, THE SPY,
MAJOR JOHN ANDRE,
Adjutant-General of the British Army, was captured by
JOHN PAULDING, DAVID WILLIAMS, AND ISAAC VAN WART.
ALL NATIVES OF THIS COUNTY.
History has told the rest.
The following quaint ballad-verses on the young hero give a realistic
touch to one of the most providential occurrences in our history:
He with a scouting party
Went down to Tarrytown,
Where he met a British officer,
A man of high renown,
Who says unto these gentlemen,
"You're of the British cheer,
I trust that you can tell me
If there's any danger near?"
Then up stept this young hero,
John Paulding was his name,
"Sir, tell us where you're going
And also whence you came?"
"I bear the British flag, sir;
I've a pass to go this way,
I'm on an expedition,
And have no time to stay."
Young Paulding, however, thought that he had plenty of time to linger
until he examined his boots, wherein he found the papers, and, when
offered ten guineas by Andre, if he would allow him to pursue his
journey, replied: "If it were ten thousand guineas you could not stir
one step."
The centennial anniversary of the event was commemorated in 1880 by
placing, through the generosity of John Anderson, on the original
obelisk of 1853, a large statue representing John Paulding as a minute
man.
* * *
That overruling Providence which has so often and so
remarkably interposed in our favor, never manifested
itself more conspicuously than in the timely discovery
of Arnold's treachery.
_George Washington._
* * *
Tarrytown was the very heart of the debatable ground of the Revolution
and many striking incidents mark its early history. In 1777 Vaughan's
troops landed here on their way to attack Fort Montgomery, and here a
party of Americans, under Major Hunt, surprised a number of British
refugees while playing cards at the Van Tassel tavern. The major
completely "turned the cards" upon them by rushing in with brandished
stick, which he brought down with emphasis upon the table, remarking
with genuine American brevity, "Gentlemen, clubs are trumps." Here,
too, according to Irving, arose the two great orders of chivalry, the
"Cow Boys" and "Skinners." The former fought, or rather marauded under
the American, the latter under the British banner; the former were
known as "Highlanders," the latter as the "Lower-Party." In the zeal
of service both were apt to make blunders, and confound the property
of friend and foe. "Neither of them, in the heat and hurry of a foray,
had time to ascertain the politics of a horse or cow which they were
driving off into captivity, nor when they wrung the neck of a rooster
did they trouble their heads whether he crowed for Congress or King
George."
It was also a genial, reposeful country for the faithful historian,
Diedrich Knickerbocker; and here he picked up many of those legends
which were given by him to the world. One of these was the legend
connected with the old Dutch Church of Sleepy Hollow. "A drowsy,
dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very
atmosphere. Some say the place was bewitched by a high German doctor
during the early days of the settlement; others that an old Indian
chief, the wizard of his tribe, held his pow-wows there before
Hendrick Hudson's discovery of the river. The dominant spirit,
however, that haunts this enchanted region, is the apparition of
a figure on horse-back, without a head, said to be the ghost of a
Hessian trooper, and was known at all the country firesides as the
'Headless horseman' of Sleepy Hollow."
* * *
O waters of Pocantico!
Wild rivulet of wood and glen!
May thy glad laughter, sweet and low,
Long, long outlive the sighs of men.
_S. H. Thayer._
* * *
[Illustration: SLEEPY HOLLOW CHURCH.]
=Sleepy Hollow.=--The Old Dutch Church, the oldest on the Hudson, is
about one-half mile north from Tarrytown.
It was built by "Frederick Filipse and his wife Katrina Van Cortland
in 1690." The material is partly of stone and partly of brick brought
from Holland. It stands as an appropriate sentinel near the entrance
to the burial-yard where Irving sleeps. After entering the gate our
way leads past the graves of the Ackers, the Van Tassels, and the Van
Warts, with inscriptions and plump Dutch cherubs on every side
that often delighted the heart of Diedrich Knickerbocker. How many
worshippers since that November day in 1859, have come hither with
reverent footsteps to read on the plain slab this simple inscription:
"Washington Irving, born April 3, 1783. Died November 28, 1859," and
recall Longfellow's beautiful lines:
"Here lies the gentle humorist, who died
In the bright Indian Summer of his fame.
A simple stone, with but a date and name,
Marks his secluded resting place beside
The river that he loved and glorified.
Here in the Autumn of his days he came,
But the dry leaves of life were all aflame
With tints that brightened and were multiplied.
How sweet a life was his, how sweet a death;
Living to wing with mirth the weary hours,
Or with romantic tales the heart to cheer;
Dying to leave a memory like the breath
Of Summers full of sunshine and of showers,
A grief and gladness in the atmosphere."
* * *
If ever I should wish for a retreat whither I might
steal from the world and its distractions, and dream
quietly away the remnant of a troubled life, I know of
none more promising than this little valley.
_Washington Irving._
* * *
Sleepy Hollow Church, like Sunnyside, is hidden away from the steamer
tourist by summer foliage. Just before reaching Kingston Point
light-house, a view, looking northeast up the little bay to the right,
will sometimes give the outline of the building. Beyond this a tall
granite shaft, erected by the Delavan family, is generally quite
distinctly seen, and this is near the grave of Irving. A light-house,
built in 1883, marks the point where the Pocantico or Sleepy Hollow
Creek joins the Hudson:
Pocantico's hushed waters glide
Through Sleepy Hollow's haunted ground,
And whisper to the listening tide
The name carved o'er one lowly mound.
To one loving our early history and legends there is no spot more
central or delightful than Tarrytown. Irving humorously says that
Tarrytown took its name from husbands tarrying too late at the village
tavern, but its real derivation is Tarwen-Dorp, or Wheat-town. The
name of the old Indian village at this point was Alipconck (the place
of elms). It has often occurred to the writer that, more than any
other river, the Hudson has a distinct personality, and also that
the four main divisions of human life are particularly marked in the
Adirondacks, the Catskills, the Highlands and Tappan Bay:
The Adirondacks, childhood's glee;
The Catskills, youth with dreams o'ercast;
The Highlands, manhood bold and free;
The Tappan Zee, age come at last.
This was the spot that Irving loved; we linger by his grave at
Sleepy Hollow with devotion; we sit upon his porch at Sunnyside with
reverence:
Thrice blest and happy Tappan Zee,
Whose banks along thy glistening tide
Have legend, truth, and poetry
Sweetly expressed in Sunnyside!
* * *
Whose golden fancy wove a spell
As lasting as the scene is fair
And made the mountain stream and dell
His own dream-life forever share.
_Henry T. Tuckerman._
* * *
=Nyack=, on the west side, 27 miles from New York. The village,
including Upper Nyack, West Nyack and South Nyack, has many fine
suburban homes and lies in a semi-circle of hills which sweep back
from Piermont, meeting the river again at the northern end of Tappan
Zee. Tappan is derived from an Indian tribe of that name, which, being
translated, is said to signify cold water. The bay is ten miles in
length, with an average breadth of about two miles and a half.
Nyack grows steadily in favor as a place for summer residents. The
hotels, boarding-houses and suburban homes would increase the census
as given to nearly ten thousand people. The _West Shore Railroad_ is
two and a half miles from the Hudson, with (a) station at West Nyack. The
_Northern Railroad of New Jersey_, leased by the _New York, Lake Erie
and Western_ (Chambers Street and 23d Street, New York), passes west
of the Bergen Hills and the Palisades. The Ramapo Mountains, north
of Nyack, were formerly known by ancient mariners as the Hook, or
Point-no-Point. They come down to the river in little headlands, the
points of which disappear as the steamer nears them. (The peak to the
south, known as Hook Mountain, is 730 feet high.) Ball Mountain above
this, and nearer the river, 650 feet. They were sometimes called by
Dutch captains Verditege Hook.
* * *
The sails hung idly all night long,
I dreamed a dream of you and me;
'Twas sweeter than the sweetest song,--
The dream I dreamed on Tappan Zee.
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
[Illustration: STONY POINT]
Perhaps it took so long to pass these illusive headlands, reaching as
they do eight miles along the western bank, that it naturally seemed a
_very tedious_ point to the old skippers. Midway in this Ramapo Range,
"set in a dimple of the hills," is--
=Rockland Lake=, source of the Hackensack River, one hundred and fifty
feet above the Hudson. The "slide way," by which the ice is sent down
to the boats to be loaded, can be seen from the steamer, and the
blocks in motion, as seen by the traveler, resemble little white pigs
running down an inclined plane. As we look at the great ice-houses
to-day, which, like uncouth barns, stand here and there along the
Hudson, it does not seem possible that only a few years ago ice was
decidedly unpopular, and wheeled about New York in a hand-cart. Think
of one hand-cart supplying New York with ice! It was considered
unhealthy, and called forth many learned discussions.
Returning to the east bank, we see above Tarrytown many superb
residences, notably "Rockwood," the home of William Rockefeller, of
the Standard Oil Company. The estate of General James Watson Webb is
also near at hand. Passing Scarborough Landing, with the Hook Mountain
and Ball Mountains on the left, we see
=Ossining=, formerly known as Sing Sing, on east bank. The low
buildings, near the river bank, are the State's Prison. They are
constructed of marble, but are not considered palatial by the
prisoners that occupy the cells. It was quarried near by, and the
prisons were built by convicts imported from Auburn in 1826. Saddlery,
furniture, shoes, etc., are manufactured within its walls. There was
an Indian chieftancy here known as the Sintsinks. In a deed to Philip
Phillipse in 1685 a stream is referred to as "Kitchewan called by the
Indians Sink-Sink." The Indian Village was known as Ossining, from
"ossin" a stone and "ing" a place, probably so called from the rocky
and stony character of the river banks.
* * *
How many, at this hour, along thy course,
Slumber to thine eternal murmurings
That mingle with the utterance of their dreams.
_William Cullen Bryant._
* * *
The heights above Tappan Zee at this point are crowned by fine
residences, and the village is one of the pleasantest on the river.
The drives among the hills are delightful and present a wide and
charming outlook. Here also are several flourishing military boarding
schools and a seminary for girls. The old silver and copper mines once
worked here never yielded satisfactory returns for invested capital.
Various industries give active life and prosperity to the town. Just
above Sing Sing
=Croton River=, known by the Indians as Kitchawonk, joins the
Hudson in a bay crossed by the _New York Central Railroad_ Croton
draw-bridge. East of this point is a water shed having an area of 350
square miles, which supplies New York with water. The Croton Reservoir
is easily reached by a pleasant carriage drive from Sing Sing, and it
is a singular fact that the pitcher and ice-cooler of New York, or in
other words, Croton Dam and Rockland Lake, should be almost opposite.
About fifty years ago the Croton first made its appearance in New
York, brought in by an aqueduct of solid masonry which follows the
course of the Hudson near the Old Post Road, or at an average distance
of about a mile from the east bank. Here and there its course can be
traced by "white stone ventilating towers" from Sing Sing to High
Bridge, which conveys the aqueduct across the Harlem River. Its
capacity is 100,000,000 gallons per day, which however began to be
inadequate for the city and a new aqueduct was therefore begun in 1884
and completed in 1890, capable of carrying three times that amount, at
a cost of $25,000,000. The water-shed is well supplied with streams
and lakes. Lake Mahopac, one of its fountains, is one of the most
beautiful sheets of water near the metropolis, and easily accessible
by a pleasant drive from Peekskill, or by the _Harlem Railroad_ from
New York. The old Indian name was Ma-cook-pake, signifying a large
inland lake, or perhaps an island near the shore. The same derivation
is also seen in Copake Lake, Columbia County. On an island of Mahopac
the last great "convention" of the southern tribes of the Hudson was
held. The lake is about 800 feet above tide, and it is pleasant to
know that the bright waters of Mahopac and the clear streams of Putnam
and Westchester are conveyed to New York even as the poetic waters of
Loch Katrine to the city of Glasgow. The Catskill water supply, the
ground of which was broken in 1907, is referred to in our description
of Cold Spring and the Catskills.
* * *
Round the aqueducts of story
As the mists of Lethe throng
Croton's waves in all their glory
Troop in melody along.
_George P. Morris._
* * *
Just above Croton Bay and the _New York Central Railroad_ draw-bridge
will be seen the old Van Cortlandt Manor, where Frederick Phillipse
and Katrina Van Cortlandt were married, as seen by the inscription on
the old Dutch Church of Sleepy Hollow.
=Teller's Point= (sometimes known as Croton or Underhill's Point),
separates Tappan Zee from Haverstraw Bay. It was called by the Indians
"Senasqua." Tradition says that ancient warriors still haunt the
surrounding glens and woods, and the sachems of Teller's Point are
household words in the neighborhood. It is also said that there was
once a great Indian battle here, and perhaps the ghosts of the old
warriors are attracted by the Underhill grapery and the 10,000 gallons
of wine bottled every season.
It was here the British warship "The Vulture," came with Andre and put
him ashore at the foot of Mount Tor below Haverstraw.
The river now opens into a beautiful bay, four miles in width,--a bed
large enough to tuck up fifteen River Rhines side by side. This reach
sometimes seems in the bright sunlight like a molten bay of silver,
and the tourist finds relief in adjusting his smoked glasses to temper
the dazzling light.
* * *
Beneath these gold and azure skies
The river winds through leafy glades,
Save where, like battlements, arise
The gray and tufted Palisades.
_Henry T. Tuckerman._
* * *
=Haverstraw=, 37 miles from New York. Haverstraw Bay is sometimes said
to be five miles wide. Its widest point, however, from Croton Landing
to Haverstraw, is, according to United States Geological Survey,
a little over four miles. The principal industry of Haverstraw is
brick-making, and its brick yards reaching north to Grassy Point, are
of materal profit, if not picturesque. The place was called Haverstraw
by the Dutch, perhaps as a place of rye straw, to distinguish it from
Tarrytown, a place of wheat. The Indian name has been lost; but, if
its original derivation is uncertain, it at least calls up the rhyme
of old-time river captains, which Captain Anderson of the "Mary
Powell" told the writer he used to hear frequently when a boy:
"West Point and Middletown,
Konnosook and Doodletown,
Kakiak and Mamapaw,
Stony Point and Haverstraw."
Quaint as these names now sound, they all are found on old maps of the
Hudson.
=High Torn= is the name of the northern point of the Ramapo on the
west bank, south of Haverstraw. According to the Coast Survey, it is
820 feet above tide-water, and the view from the summit is grand and
extensive. The origin of the name is not clear, but it has lately
occurred to the writer, from a re-reading of Scott's "Peveril of the
Peak," that it might have been named from the Torn, a mountain in
Derbyshire, either from its appearance, or by some patriotic settler
from the central water-shed of England. Others say it is the
Devonshire word Tor changed to Torn, evidently derived from the same
source.
* * *
Emerging from these confused piles, the river as if
rejoicing at its release from its struggle, expanded into
a wide bay, which was ornamented by a few fertile and
low points that jutted humbly into its broad basin.
_James Fenimore Cooper._
* * *
=West Shore Railroad.=--The tourist will see at this point, on the
left bank of the river, the tunnel whereby the "West Shore" finds
egress from the mountains. The traveler over this railway, on emerging
from the quiet valley west of the Palisades, comes upon a sudden
vision of beauty unrivaled in any land. The broad river seems like a
great inland lake; and the height of the tunnel above the silver bay
gives to the panoramic landscape a wondrous charm. About a mile from
the river, southwest of Grassy Point, on the farther side of the
winding Minnissickuongo Creek, which finally after long meandering
makes up its mind to glide into Stony Point Bay, will be seen Treason
Hill marked by the Joshua Hett Smith stone house where Arnold and
Andre met. The story of this meeting will be referred to at greater
length in connection with its most dramatic incident at the old
Beverley House in the Highlands. The Hudson here is about two miles
in width and narrows rapidly as we pass Grassy Point on the west bank
with its meadows and brick yards to
=Stony Point=, where it is scarcely more than half a mile to
Verplank's Point on the eastern bank. This was, therefore, an
important pass during the Revolution. The crossing near at hand was
known as King's Ferry, at and before the days of '76, and was quite an
avenue of travel between the Southern, Middle and Eastern States. The
fort crowning a commanding headland, was captured by the British, June
1, 1779, but it was surprised and recaptured by Anthony Wayne, July
15 of the same year. A centennial was observed at the place July 15,
1879, when the battle was "refought" and the West Point Cadets showed
how they would have done it if they had been on hand a century ago.
Thackeray, in his "Virginians," gives perhaps the most graphic account
of this midnight battle. The present light-house occupies the site of
the old fort, and was built in part of stone taken from its walls.
Upon its capture by the British, Washington, whose headquarters were
at New Windsor, meditated a bold stroke and summoned Anthony Wayne,
more generally known as "Mad Anthony," from his reckless daring, to
undertake its recapture with a force of one thousand picked men. The
lines were formed in two columns about 8 p.m. at "Springsteel's farm."
Each soldier and officer put a piece of white paper in his hat to
distinguish him from the foe. No guns were to be loaded under penalty
of death. General Wayne, at the head of the column, forded the marsh
covered at the time with two feet of water. The other column led by
Butler and Murfree crossed an apology for a bridge. During the advance
both columns were discovered by the British sentinels and the rocky
defense literally blazed with musketry. In stern silence, however,
without faltering, the American columns moved forward, entered the
abatis, until the advance guard under Anthony Wayne was within the
enemy's works. A bullet at this moment struck Wayne in the forehead
grazing his skull. Quickly recovering from the shock, he rose to his
knees, shouted: "Forward, my brave fellows"; then turning to two of
his followers, he asked them to help him into the fort that he might
die, if it were to be so, "in possession of the spot." Both columns
were now at hand and inspired by the brave general, came pouring
in, crying "The fort's our own." The British troops completely
overwhelmed, were fain to surrender and called for mercy. Wayne's
characteristic message to Washington antedates modern telegraphic
brevity:--"Stony Point, 2 o'clock a.m. The American flag waves
here.--Mad Anthony." There were twenty killed and sixty wounded on
each side. Some five hundred of the enemy were captured and about
sixty escaped. "Money rewards and medals were given to Wayne and
the leaders in the assault. The ordinance and stores captured were
appraised at over $180,000 and there was universal rejoicing"
throughout the land. "Stony Point State Park" was dedicated by
appropriate ceremony July 16, 1902. At the close of Governor Odell's
address the flag was raised by William Wayne, a lineal descendant of
the hero, and the cruiser "Olympia" of Manila fame boomed forth her
tribute. Verplank's Point, on the east bank (now full of brick-making
establishments), was the site of Fort Lafayette. It was here that
Baron Steuben drilled the soldiers of the American army. Back from
Green Cove above Verplanck's Point is "Knickerbocker Lake."
* * *
The star spangled banner, the flag of the brave,
And the cross of old England in amity wave,
But if ever the nations do battle again
God send us such soldiers as Anthony Wayne.
_Minna Irving._
* * *
The echoes that so boldly rung
When cannon flashed from steep to steep,
And freedom's airy challenge flung,
In each romantic valley sleep.
_Henry T. Tuckerman._
* * *
=Tompkin's Cove.=--North of Stony Point we see great quarries of
limestone, the principal industry of the village of Tompkin's Cove.
Gravel is also shipped from this place for Central Park roads and
driveways in New York City. The tourist, looking north from the
forward deck of the steamer, sees no opening in the mountains, and
it is amusing to hear the various conjectures of the passengers; as
usual, the "unexpected" happens. The steamer turns to the left and
sweeps at once into the grand scenery of the Highlands. The straight
forward course, which seems the more natural, would land the steamer
against the _Hudson River Railroad_, crossing the Peekskill River.
It is said that an old skipper, Jans Peek, ran up this stream, years
before the railroad was built, and did not know that he had left the
Hudson, or rather that the Hudson was "left" until he ran aground in
the shoal water of the bay. The next morning he discovered that it was
a goodly land, and the place bears his name unto this day.
* * *
The Highlands and the Palisades
Mirror their beauty in the tide,
The history of whose forest shades
A nation reads with conscious pride.
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
=Peekskill=, 40 miles from New York, is a pleasant city on the quiet
bay which deeply indents the eastern bank. The property in this
vicinity was known as Rycks Patent in 1665. In Revolutionary times
Fort Independence stood on the point above, where its ruins are still
seen. The Franciscan Convent Academy of "Our Lady of Angels," guards
the point below. In 1797 Peekskill was the headquarters of old Israel
Putnam, who rivaled "Mad Anthony" in brevity as well as courage. It
will be remembered that Palmer was here captured as a spy. A British
officer wrote a letter asking his reprieve, to which Putnam replied,
"Nathan Palmer was taken as a spy, tried as a spy and will be hanged
as a spy. P. S.--He is hanged." This was the birthplace of Paulding,
one of Andre's captors, and he died here in 1818. He is buried in the
old rural cemetery about two miles and a half from the village, and a
monument has been erected to his memory. Near at hand is the "Wayside
Inn," where Andre once "tarried," also the Hillside Cemetery, where on
June 19, 1898, the 123d anniversary of the battle of Bunker Hill, a
monument was unveiled to General Pomeroy by the Society of the Sons of
Revolution, New York. The church which Washington attended is in good
preservation.
Near Peekskill is the old Van Cortlandt house, the residence of
Washington for a short time during the Revolution. East of the village
was the summer home of the great pulpit orator, Henry Ward Beecher.
Peekskill was known by the Indians as Sackhoes in the territory of the
Kitchawongo, which extended from Croton River to Anthony's Nose.
[Illustration: SOUTHERN GATE OF HIGHLANDS]
Turning Caldwell's Landing or Jones' Point, formerly known as Kidd's
Point, almost at right angles, the steamer enters the southern gate of
the Highlands. At the water edge will be seen some upright planks or
caissons marking the spot where Kidd's ship was supposed to have been
scuttled. As his history seems to be intimately associated with the
Hudson, we will give it in brief:
=The Story of Captain Kidd.=--"My name was Captain Kidd as I sailed,"
are famous lines of an old ballad which was once familiar to our
grandfathers. The hapless hero of the same was born about the middle
of the seventeenth century, and it is thought, near Greenock,
Scotland. He resided at one time in New York, near the corner of
William and Cedar Streets, and was there married. In April, 1696, he
sailed from England in command of the "Adventure Galley," with full
armament and eighty men. He captured a French ship, and, on arrival at
New York, put up articles for volunteers; remained in New York three
or four months, increasing his crew to one hundred and fifty-five
men, and sailed thence to Madras, thence to Bonavista and St. Jago,
Madagascar, then to Calicut, then to Madagascar again, then sailed and
took the "Quedah Merchant." Kidd kept forty shares of the spoils, and
divided the rest with his crew. He then burned the "Adventure Galley,"
went on board the "Quedah Merchant," and steered for the West Indies.
Here he left the "Merchant," with part of his crew, under one Bolton,
as commander. Then manned a sloop, and taking part of his spoils, went
to Boston via Long Island Sound, and is said to have set goods on
shore at different places. In the meantime, in August, 1698, the East
Indian Company informed the Lords Justice that Kidd had committed
several acts of piracy, particularly in seizing a Moor's ship called
the "Quedah Merchant." When Kidd landed at Boston he was therefore
arrested by the Earl of Bellamont, and sent to England for trial,
1699, where he was found guilty and executed. Now it is supposed that
the crew of the "Quedah Merchant," which Kidd left at Hispaniola,
sailed for their homes, as the crew was mostly gathered from the
Highlands and above. It is said that they passed New York in the
night, _en route_ to the manor of Livingston; but encountering a gale
in the Highlands, and thinking they were pursued, ran her near the
shore, now known as Kidd's Point, and here scuttled her, the crew
fleeing to the woods with such treasure as they could carry. Whether
this circumstance was true or not, it was at least a current story in
the neighborhood, and an enterprising individual, about fifty years
ago, _caused an old cannon_ to be "discovered" in the river, and
perpetrated the first "Cardiff Giant Hoax." A New York Stock Company
was organized to prosecute the work. It was said that the ship could
be seen in clear days, with her masts still standing, many fathoms
below the surface. One thing is certain--the company did not see it or
the _treasurer_ either, in whose hands were deposited about $30,000.
* * *
Beauty and majesty on either hand
Have shared thy waters with their common realm.
_Knickerbocker Magazine._
* * *
Their summits are the first to meet
The morning's golden ray,
And last to catch the crimson fires
That warm the dying day.
_Minna Irving._
* * *