=The Dunderberg=, the dread of the Dutch mariners. This hill,
according to Irving, was peopled with a multitude of imps, too great
for man to number, who wore sugar-loaf hats and short doublets, and
had a picturesque way of "tumbling head over heels in the rack and
mist." They were especially malignant toward all captains who failed
to do them reverence, and brought down frightful squalls on such craft
as failed to drop the peaks of their mainsails to the goblin who
presided over this shadowy republic. It was the dread of the early
navigators--in fact, the Olympus of Dutch mythology. Verditege Hook,
the Dunderberg, and the Overslaugh, were names of terror to even the
bravest skipper. The old burghers of New York never thought of making
their week's voyage to Albany without arranging their wills, and it
created as much commotion in New Amsterdam as a modern expedition to
the north pole. Dunderberg, in most of the Hudson Guides and Maps, is
put down as 1,098 feet, but its actual altitude by the latest United
States Geological Survey is 865 feet.
The State National Guard Encampment crowns a bluff, formerly known as
Roa Hook, on the east bank, north of Peekskill Bay, a happy location
in the midst of history and beauty. Every regiment in the State
rallies here in turn during the summer months for instruction in the
military art, living in tents and enjoying life in true army style.
Visitors are cordially greeted at proper hours, and the camp is easily
reached by ferry from Peekskill. A ferry also runs from Peekskill to
Dunderberg, affording a hillside outing and a delightful view. It is
expected that a spiral railroad, fourteen miles in length, undertaken
by a recently organized corporation, but abandoned for the present,
will make the spot a great Hudson River resort. The plan also embraces
a palatial hotel on the summit and pleasure grounds upon the point at
its base. Passing Manito Mountain on our right the steamer approaches
=Anthony's Nose=, a prominent feature of the Hudson.
* * *
The waters were hemmed in by abrupt and dark
mountains, but the channel was still broad and smooth
enough for all the steamboats in the Republic to ride
in safety.
_Harriet Martineau._
* * *
[Illustration: ANTHONY'S NOSE.]
Strangely enough the altitude of the mountains at the southern portal
of the Highlands has been greatly overrated. The formerly accepted
height of Anthony's Nose has been reduced by the Geological Survey
from 1,228 feet to 900. It has, however, an illustrious christening,
and according to various historians several godfathers. One says
it was named after St. Anthony the Great, the first institutor of
monastic life, born A. D. 251, at Coma, in Heraclea, a town in Upper
Egypt. Irving's humorous account is, however, quite as probable that
it was _derived_ from the nose of Antony Van Corlear, the illustrious
trumpeter of Peter Stuyvesant. "Now thus it happened that bright and
early in the morning the good Antony, having washed his burly visage,
was leaning over the quarter-railing of the galley, contemplating it
in the glassy waves below. Just at this moment the illustrious
sun, breaking in all his splendor from behind a high bluff of the
Highlands, did dart one of his most potent beams full upon the
refulgent _nose_ of the sounder of brass, the reflection of which
shot straightway down hissing hot into the water, and killed a mighty
sturgeon that was sporting beside the vessel. When this astonishing
miracle was made known to the Governor, and he tasted of the unknown
fish, he marveled exceedingly; and, as a monument thereof, he gave the
name of Anthony's Nose to a stout promontory in the neighborhood,
and it has continued to be called Anthony's Nose ever since." It
was called by the Indians "Kittatenny," a Delaware term, signifying
"endless hills." The stream flowing into the river south of Anthony's
Nose is known as the Brocken Kill, broken into beautiful cascades from
mountain source to mouth.
* * *
The beautiful and in some places highly singular
banks of the Hudson rendered a voyage both amusing
and interesting, while the primitive manners of the inhabitants
diverted the gay and idle and pleased
the thoughtful and speculative.
_Mrs. Grant of Laggan._
* * *
=Iona Island=, formerly a pleasure resort and picnic ground. An
old-time joke of the Hudson was frequently perpetrated on strangers
while passing the island. Some one would innocently observe, "I own
a island on the Hudson." When any one obligingly asked, "Where?" the
reply would be with pointed finger, "Why there." But the United States
Government _owns_ it now against all comers, and its quiet lanes and
picnic abandon have been exchanged for busy machine shops and military
discipline. It is near the west bank, opposite Anthony's Nose. A
short distance from the island, on the main land, was the village or
cross-roads of Doodletown. This reach of the river was formerly known
as The Horse Race, from the rapid flow of the tide when at its height.
The hills on the west bank now recede from the river, forming a
picturesque amphitheatre, bounded on the west by Bear Mountain. An
old road directly in the rear of Iona Island, better known to Anthony
Wayne than to the modern tourist, passes through Doodletown, over
Dunderberg, just west of Tompkin's Cove, to Haverstraw. Here amid
these pleasant foothills Morse laid the scene of a historical romance,
which he however happily abandoned for a wider invention. The world
can get along without the novel, but it would be a trifle slow without
the telegraph. On the west bank, directly opposite the railroad tunnel
which puts a merry "ring" into the tip of Anthony's Nose, is what is
now known as Highland Lake, called by the Indians "Sinnipink," and by
the immediate descendants of our Revolutionary fathers "Hessian
Lake" or "Bloody Pond," from the fact that an American company were
mercilessly slaughtered here by the Hessians, and, after the surrender
of Fort Montgomery, their bodies were thrown into the lake.
* * *
Behold again the wildwood shade,
The mountain steep, the checkered glade,
And hoary rocks and bubbling rills,
And pointed waves and distant hills.
_Robert C. Sands._
* * *
The capture of Fort Clinton and Fort Montgomery was two years before
Mad Anthony's successful assault on Stony Point. Early in the history
of the Revolution, the British Government thought that it would be
possible to cut off the eastern from the middle and southern Colonies
by capturing and garrisoning commanding points along the Hudson and
Lake Champlain. It was therefore decided in London, in the spring of
1777, to have Sir Henry Clinton approach from the south and Burgoyne
from the north. Reinforcements, however, arrived late from England and
it was September before Clinton transported his troops, about 4,000
in number, in warships and flat-boats up the river. Governor George
Clinton was in charge of Fort Montgomery, and his brother James of
Fort Clinton, while General Putnam, with about 2,000 men, had his
headquarters at Peekskill. In addition to these forts, a chain was
stretched across the Hudson from Anthony's Nose to a point near the
present railroad bridge, to obstruct the British fleet. General
Putnam, however, became convinced that Sir Henry Clinton proposed
to attack Fort Independence. Most of the troops were accordingly
withdrawn from Forts Montgomery and Clinton, when Sir Henry Clinton,
taking advantage of a morning fog, crossed with 2,000 men at King's
Ferry. Guided by a sympathizer of the British cause, who knew the
district, he crossed the Dunderberg Mountain by the road just
indicated. One division of 900 moving on Fort Montgomery, and another
of 1,100 on Fort Clinton. Governor Clinton in the meantime ordered 400
soldiers to Fort Montgomery, and his reconnoitering party, met by the
Hessians, fell back upon the fort, fighting as it retreated. Governor
Clinton sent to General Putnam for reinforcements, but it is said that
the messenger deserted, so that Putnam literally sat waiting in camp,
unconscious of the enemy's movements. A simultaneous attack was made
at 5 o'clock in the afternoon on both forts. Lossing says: "The
garrisons were composed mostly of untrained militia. They behaved
nobly, and kept up the defense vigorously, against a greatly superior
force of disciplined and veteran soldiers, until twilight, when they
were overpowered, and sought safety in a scattered retreat to the
neighboring mountains. Many escaped, but a considerable number were
slain or made prisoners. The Governor fled across the river in a
boat, and at midnight was with General Putnam at Continental Village,
concerting measures for stopping the invasion. James, forcing his way
to the rear, across the highway bridge, received a bayonet wound in
the thigh, but safely reached his home at New Windsor. A sloop of ten
guns, the frigate "Montgomery"--twenty-four guns--and two row-galleys,
stationed near the boom and chain for their protection, slipped their
cables and attempted to escape, but there was no wind to fill their
sails, and they were burned by the Americans to prevent their falling
into the hands of the enemy. The frigate "Congress," twenty-eight
guns, which had already gone up the river, shared the same fate on the
flats near Fort Constitution, which was abandoned. By the light of the
burning vessels the fugitive garrisons made their way over the rugged
mountains, and a large portion of them joined General Clinton at New
Windsor the next day. They had left many of their brave companions
behind, who, to the number of 250, had been slain or taken prisoners.
The British, too, had parted with many men and brave officers. Among
the latter was Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell. Early in the morning of
the 7th of October, the river obstructions between Fort Montgomery and
Anthony's Nose, which cost the Americans $250,000, were destroyed, and
a light flying squadron, commanded by Sir James Wallace, and bearing a
large number of land troops under General Vaughan, sailed up the river
on a marauding expedition, with instructions from Sir Henry to scatter
desolation in their paths. It was hoped that such an expedition would
draw troops from the Northern army for the protection of the country
below, and thereby assist Burgoyne."
* * *
I love thy tempests when the broad-winged blast
Rouses thy billows with his battle call,
When gathering clouds, in phalanx black and vast
Like armed shadows gird thy rocky wall.
_Knickerbocker Magazine._
* * *
Sir Henry Clinton, who had been advised by General Burgoyne that he
must be relieved by October 12th, sent a messenger announcing his
victory. Another of the many special providences of the American
Revolution now occurs. The messenger blundered into the American camp,
where some soldiers sat in British uniform, and found out too late
that he was among enemies instead of friends. As Irving relates the
incident in his "Life of Washington":
--"On the 9th (October) two persons coming from Fort Montgomery were
arrested by the guard, and brought for examination. One was much
agitated, and was observed to put something hastily into his mouth
and swallow it. An emetic was administered, and brought up a silver
bullet. Before he could be prevented he swallowed it again. On his
refusing a second emetic, the Governor threatened to have him hanged
and his body opened. This threat was effectual and the bullet was
again 'brought to light.' It was oval in form, and hollow, with a
screw in the centre, and contained a note from Sir Henry Clinton to
Burgoyne, written on a slip of thin paper, and dated October 8th, from
Fort Montgomery: '_Nous y voici_ (here we are), and nothing between
us and Gates. I sincerely hope this little success of ours will
facilitate your operations.' Burgoyne never received it, and
on October 13th, after the battles of Bennington and Saratoga,
surrendered to General Gates. Sir Henry Clinton abandoned the forts on
hearing of his defeat, and returned to New York 'a sadder and wiser
man.'"
* * *
Columbia! Columbia! to glory arise,
The queen of the earth and the child of the skies.
_Timothy Dwight._
* * *
Far up the Hudson's silver flood
I hear the Highlands call
With whispering of leafy boughs
And voice of waterfall.
_Minna Irving._
* * *
=Beverley House.=--Passing Cohn's Hook, pronounced Connosook, where
Hendrick Hudson anchored on his way up the river September 14, 1609,
we see before us on the right bank a point coming down to the shore
marked by a boat house. This is Beverley Dock, and directly up the
river bank about an eighth of a mile stood the old Beverley House,
where Benedict Arnold had his headquarters when in command of
West Point. The old house, a good specimen of colonial times, was
unfortunately burned in 1892, and with it went the most picturesque
landmark of the most dramatic incident of the Revolution. It will
be remembered that Arnold returned to the Beverley House after his
midnight interview with Andre at Haverstraw, and immediately upon the
capture of Andre the following day, that Colonel Jamison sent a letter
to Arnold, advising him of the fact. It was the morning of September
4th. General Washington was on his way to West Point, coming across
the country from Connecticut. On arriving, however, at the river,
just above the present station of Garrison, he became interested in
examining some defenses, and sent Alexander Hamilton forward to the
Beverley House, saying that he would come later, requesting the
family to proceed with their breakfast and not to await his arrival.
Alexander Hamilton and General Lafayette sat gayly chatting with Mrs.
Arnold and her husband when the letter from Jamison was received.
Arnold glanced at the contents, rose and excused himself from the
table, beckoning to his wife to follow him, bade her good-bye, told
her he was a ruined man and a traitor, kissed his little boy in the
cradle, rode to Beverley Dock, and ordered his men to pull off and
go down the river. The "Vulture," an English man-of-war, was near
Teller's Point, and received a traitor, whose miserable treachery
branded him with eternal infamy on both continents. It is said that
he lived long enough to be hissed in the House of Commons, as he once
took his seat in the gallery, and he died friendless and despised. It
is also said, when Talleyrand arrived in Havre on foot from Paris, in
the darkest hour of the French Revolution, pursued by the bloodhounds
of the reign of terror, and was about to secure a passage to the
United States, he asked the landlord of the hotel whether any
Americans were staying at his house, as he was going across the water,
and would like a letter to a person of influence in the New World.
"There is a gentleman up-stairs from Britain or America," was the
response. He pointed the way, and Talleyrand ascended the stairs. In a
dimly lighted room sat a man of whom the great minister of France was
to ask a favor. He advanced, and poured forth in elegant French and
broken English, "I am a wanderer, and an exile. I am forced to fly to
the New World without a friend or home. You are an American. Give me,
then, I beseech you, a letter of yours, so that I may be able to earn
my bread." The strange gentleman rose. With a look that Talleyrand
never forgot, he retreated toward the door of the next chamber. He
spoke as he retreated, and his voice was full of suffering: "I am the
only man of the New World who can raise his hand to God and say,
'I have not a friend, not one, in America!'" "Who are you?" he
cried--"your name?" "My name is Benedict Arnold!"
* * *
Wayne, Putnam, Knox and Heath are there,
Steuben, proud Prussia's honored son;
Brave Lafayette from France the fair,
And chief of all our Washington.
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
Andre's fate on the other hand was widely lamented. He was universally
beloved by his comrades and possessed a rich fund of humor which often
bubbled over in verse. It is a strange coincidence that his best
poetic attempt on one of Anthony Wayne's exploits near Fort Lee,
entitled "The Cow Chase," closed with a graphically prophetic verse:
"And now I've closed my epic strain,
I tremble as I show it,
Lest this same Warrior-Drover Wayne
Should ever catch the poet."
By a singular coincidence he did: General Wayne was in command of the
Tarrytown and Tappan country where Andre was captured and executed. It
is also said that these lines were published by one of the Tory papers
in New York the very day of Andre's capture. One of the old-time
characters on the Hudson, known as Uncle Richard, has recently thrown
new light on the capture of Andre by claiming, with a touch of genuine
humor, that it was entirely due to the "effects" of cider which had
been freely "dispensed" that day by a certain Mr. Horton, a farmer in
the neighborhood.
* * *
In view of all he lost,--his youth, his love,
And possibilities that wait the brave,
Inward and outward bound dim visions move
Like passing sails upon the Hudson's wave.
_Charlotte Fiske Bates._
* * *
It is impossible even in these later years, not to speak of
twenty-five or fifty years ago, to travel along the shores of
Haverstraw Bay or among the passes of the Highlands, without hearing
some old-time stories about Arnold and Andre, and it would be strange
indeed if a little romance had not here and there become blended with
the real facts. Uncle Richard's account is undoubtedly the best since
the days of Knickerbocker. "Benedict Arnold, you know, had command of
West Point, and he knew that the place was essential to the success of
the Continental cause. He plotted, as everybody knows, to turn it
over to the enemy, and in the correspondence which he carried on with
General Clinton, young Andre, Clinton's aid, did all the writing.
Things were coming to a focus, when a meeting took place between
Arnold and Clinton's representative, Andre, at the house of Joshua
Hett Smith, near Haverstraw. Andre came on the British ship "Vulture,"
which he left at Croton Point, in Haverstraw Bay. Well," so runs Uncle
Richard's story, "it took a long time to get matters settled; they
'confabbed' till after daybreak. Then Arnold started back to the post
which he had plotted to surrender. But daylight was no time for Andre
to return to the "Vulture," so he hung round waiting for night.
"During that day, some men who were working for James Horton, a farmer
on the ridge overlooking the river, who gave his men good rations of
cider, drank a little too much of the hard stuff. They felt good, and
thought it would be a fine joke to load and fire off an old disabled
cannon which lay a mile or so away on the bank. They hauled it to the
point now called Cockroft Point, propped it up, and then the spirit
of fun--and hard cider--prompted them to train the old piece on the
British ship "Vulture," lying at anchor in the Bay. The "Vulture's"
people must have overestimated the source of the fire, for the ship
dropped down the river, and Andre had to abandon the idea of returning
by that means. He crossed the river at King's Ferry, and while on his
way overland was captured at Tarrytown.
"Of course, the three brave men who refused to be bribed deserve all
the glory they ever had; if it were not for them, who knows but the
revolutionary war would have had a different ending. But they never
would have had a chance to capture Andre if it had not been for James
Horton's men warming up on hard cider. Hard cider broke the plans
of Arnold, it hung Andre, and it saved West Point." A boy misguided
Grouchy _en route_ to Waterloo. On what small hinges turn the
destinies of nations!
* * *
A slanting ray lingered on the woody crests of the precipices that
overhung the river, giving greater depth to the dark-gray and
purple of the rocky sides.
_Washington Irving._
* * *
All the way from Anthony's Nose to Beverley Dock, where we have been
lingering over the story of Andre, we have been literally turning a
kaleidoscope of blended history and beauty, with scarcely time to note
the delightful homes on the west bank, just above Fort Montgomery.
Among them J. Pierpont Morgan's and the Pells', John Bigelow's and
"Benny Havens'," or on the east bank of Hamilton Fish, just above
Beverley Dock, Samuel Sloan and the late William H. Osborn, just north
of Sugar Loaf Mountain; the mountain being so named as it resembles,
to one coming up the river, the old-fashioned conical-shaped
sugar-loaf, which was formerly suspended by a string over the centre
of the hospitable Dutch tables, and swung around to be occasionally
nibbled at, which in good old Knickerbocker days, was thought to be
the best and only orthodox way of sweetening tea.
=Buttermilk Falls=, so christened by Washington Irving, is a pretty
little cascade on the west bank. Like sparkling wit, it is often dry,
and the tourist is exceptionally fortunate who sees it in full-dress
costume after a heavy shower, when it rushes over the rocks in floods
of snow-white foam. Highland Falls is the name of a small village a
short distance west of the river, on the bluff, but not seen from the
deck of the steamer.
The large building above the rocky channel is Lady Cliff, the Academy
of Our Lady of Angels, under the Franciscan Sisters at Peekskill,
opened September, 1900. It was originally built for a hotel, and
widely known as Cranston's Hotel and Landing. As the steamer is now
approaching the west bank we see above us the Cullum Memorial Hall,
completed in 1899, a bequest of the late George W. Cullum of the class
of 1833. The still newer structure to the south is the officers'
messroom, crowning the crest above the landing.
* * *
Then, as you nearer draw, each wooded height
Puts off the azure hues by distance given!
And slowly breaks upon the enamored sight,
Ravine, crag, field and wood in colors true and bright.
_Theodore S. Fay._
* * *
=West Point=, taken all in all, is the most beautiful tourist spot on
the Hudson. Excursionists by the Day Boats from New York, returning
by afternoon steamer, have three hours to visit the various places
of history and beauty. To make an easy mathematical formula or
picturesque "rule of three" statement, what Quebec is to the St.
Lawrence, West Point is to the Hudson. If the citadel of Quebec is
more imposing, the view of the Hudson at this place is grander than
that of the St. Lawrence, and the ruins of Fort Putnam are almost as
venerable as the Heights of Abraham. The sensation of the visitor is,
moreover, somewhat the same in both places as to the environment of
law and authority. To get the daily character and quality of West
Point one should spend at least twenty-four hours within its borders,
and a good hotel, the only one on the Government grounds, will be
found central and convenient to everything of interest. The parade and
drills at sunset hour can best be seen in this way.
=The United States Military Academy.=--Soon after the close of the War
of the Revolution, Washington suggested West Point as the site of a
military academy, and, in 1793, in his annual message, recommended it
to Congress, which in 1794 organized a corps of artillerists to be
here stationed with thirty-two cadets, enlarging the number in 1798 to
fifty-six. In 1808 it was increased to one hundred and fifty-six, and
in 1812 to two hundred and sixty.
Up to 1812 only 71 cadets had been graduated. The roll of graduates
now numbers about 5,000.
Each Congressman has the appointment of one cadet, supplemented by
ten appointed by the President of the United States. These cadets are
members of the regular army, subject to its regulations for eight
years, viz: during four years of study and four years after
graduating. The candidates are examined in June, each year, and must
be physically sound as well as mentally qualified. The course is very
thorough, especially in higher mathematics. The cadets go into camp in
July and August, and this is the pleasantest time to visit the point.
* * *
Enchanted place, hemmed in by mountain walls,
By bristling guns and Hudson's restful shore.
_Kenneth Bruce._
* * *
The plans furnished by the architects of the new building will
entirely change the appearance of the river front. The proposed
massive structure crowning the cliff will "out-castle" the most
massive fortifications of the walled cities of Europe. $7,500,000 has
been appropriated to the work by Congress and the next generation will
behold a new West Point.
In the rebuilding of the Post the Cadet Chapel, the Riding Hall, the
Administration Building and some of the Officers' Quarters will be
removed. Most of the old important buildings, however, will not be
disturbed, and the Chapel will be placed as it were "intact" on
another site. The plan leaves untouched the Cadet Barracks, the Cadet
Mess, the Memorial Hall, the Library and the Officers' Mess. The
tower of the new Post Headquarters will rise high and massive several
stories above the other structures and present in enduring symbol the
republic standing four square and firm throughout the ages.
In the "West Point Souvenir," prepared by W. H. Tripp, which every
visitor will prize, are many suggestions and descriptions of value.
From many visits and many sources we condense the following brevities:
=The Cadet Barracks= was built in 1845-51 of native granite. In 1882
the western wing was extended adding two divisions.
=The Academy Building= is immediately opposite the Headquarters, of
Massachusetts granite, erected in 1891-95, and cost about $500,000.
It contains recitation and lecture rooms of all departments of
instruction.
=The Ordnance Museum= contains an interesting and extensive exhibit
of ancient and modern firearms, also many valuable trophies from the
Revolutionary, Mexican, Civil and Spanish wars.
* * *
Among the fair and lovely Highlands of the Hudson, shut in by deep
green heights and ruined forts, hemmed in all round with memories
of Washington, there could be no more appropriate ground for the
military school of America.
_Charles Dickens._
* * *
=The Cadet Chapel=, immediately north of the Administration Building,
was erected in 1834. The chapel contains many valuable trophies of
the Revolutionary and Mexican wars, including three Hessian and two
British flags that were once the property of Washington. The walls
have many memorial tablets and a famous "blank" of Arnold. Here also
are several cannon surrendered at Saratoga, October 17, 1777.
=The Administration Building= was completed in 1871.
=The Library= adjoins the Cadet Chapel on the east, built of native
granite in 1841, costing about $15,000. In 1900 the building was
entirely reconstructed of fire-proof material by appropriation of
$80,000. The exterior walls of the original building entered into the
remodeled structure. The Library, founded in 1812, has about 50,000
volumes.
=The Gymnasium= adjoins the Barracks on the west, erected of native
granite, costing $90,000.
=Memorial Hall=, plainly seen from the Hudson, completed in 1899, is
of Ionic architecture. The building cost $268,000, a legacy bequeathed
by Gen. George W. Cullum, built of Milford granite for army trophies
of busts, paintings and memorials. The bronze statute of Gen. John
Sedgwick in the northwest angle of the plain was dedicated in 1868.
The fine cenotaph of Italian marble was erected in 1885. It stands
immediately in front of Memorial Hall.
=Kosciusko's Monument= was erected in 1828. It stands in the northeast
angle of Fort Clinton.
=The Chain-Battery= walk runs from Kosciusko's Garden northward to
Light House Point, near which was the battery that defended the chain
across the river in the Revolution. The scene is of great beauty and
has been known for many years by the name of "Flirtation Walk."
* * *
Where Kosciusko dreamed and proud scenes bring
To mind the stormy days when Liberty
Was cradled at West Point--the Highlands' key.
_Kenneth Bruce._
* * *
[Illustration: BATTLE MONUMENT, WEST POINT]
=The Battle Monument=, on Trophy Point, is the most beautiful on the
reservation--a column of victory in memory of 2,230 officers and
soldiers of the regular army of the United States who were killed or
died of wounds received in the war of the Rebellion. It is a monolith
of polished granite surmounted by a figure of Fame. The shaft is 46
feet in length, 5 feet in diameter, and said to be the largest piece
of polished stone in the world. The cost of the work was $66,000. The
site was dedicated June 15, 1864. The monument was dedicated in 1897.
The address was by Justice Brewer.
=Trophy Point=, on the north side of the plain, overlooking the river
and commanding a majestic view of the Hudson and the city of Newburgh,
has been likened by European travelers to a view on Lake Geneva.
Here are the "swivel clevies" and 16 links of the old chain that was
stretched across the river at this point. The whole chain, 1,700
feet long, weighing 186 tons, was forged at the Sterling Iron Works,
transported to New Windsor and there attached to log booms and floated
down the river to this point.
=Old Fort Putnam= was erected in 1778 by the 5th Massachusetts
Regiment under the direction of Col. Rufus Putnam. It was originally
constructed of logs and trees with stone walls on two sides to defend
Fort Clinton on the plain below. It was garrisoned by 450 men, and had
14 guns mounted. In 1787 it was dismantled, and the guns sold as
old iron. Its brick arch casements overgrown with moss, vines, and
shrubbery are crumbling away, but are well worth a visit. It is 495
feet above the Hudson. A winding picturesque carriage road leads up
from the plain, and the pedestrian can reach the summit in 20 minutes.
On clear days the Catskill Mountains are visible.
=Fort Clinton=, in the northeast angle of the plain, was built in
1778 under the direction of the Polish soldier, Kosciusko. Sea Coast
Battery is located on the north waterfront, Siege Battery on the slope
of the hill below the Battle Monument. Targets for the guns on both
batteries are on the hillside about a mile distant. Battery Knox,
which overlooks the river, was rebuilt in 1874 on the site of an old
revolutionary redoubt.
* * *
Bright are the moments link'd with thee,
Boast of a glory-hallowed land!
Hope of the valiant and the free,
Home of our youthful soldier band!
_Anonymous._
* * *
While Fort Putnam was being built Washington was advised that Dubois's
regiment was unfit to be ordered on duty, there being "not one blanket
in the regiment. Very few have either a shoe or a shirt, and most of
them have neither stockings, breeches, or overalls. Several companies
of inlisted artificers are in the same situation, and unable to work
in the field."
What privations were here endured to establish our priceless liberty!
It makes better Americans of us all to turn and re-turn the pages of
the real Hudson, the most picturesque volume of the world's history.
West Point during the Revolution was the Gibraltar of the Hudson
and her forts were regarded almost impregnable. Fort Putnam will be
rebuilt as an enduring monument to the bravery of American soldiers.
The best way to study West Point, however, is not in voluminous
histories or in the condensed pages of a guide book, but to visit it
and see its real life, to wander amid its old associations, and
ask, when necessary, intelligent questions, which are everywhere
courteously answered. The view north seen in a summer evening, is one
long to be remembered. In such an hour the writer's idea of the Hudson
as an open book with granite pages and crystal book-mark is most
completely realized as indicated in the Highland section of his poem,
"The Hudson":
On either side these mountain glens
Lie open like a massive book,
Whose words were graved with iron pens,
And lead into the eternal rock:
Which evermore shall here retain
The annals time cannot erase,
And while these granite leaves remain
This crystal ribbon marks the place.
* * *
Under Spring's delicate marshalling every hill of the Highlands
took its own place, and the soft swells of ground stood back the
one from the other in more and more tender coloring.
_Susan Warner._
* * *
[Illustration: LOOKING NORTH FROM WEST POINT BATTERY]
=West Point to Newburgh.=
The steamer passes too near the west bank to give a view of the
magnificent plateau with parade ground and Government buildings, but
on rounding the point a picture of marvelous beauty breaks at once
upon the vision. On the left the massive indented ridge of Old Cro'
Nest and Storm King, and on the right Mount Taurus, or Bull Hill, and
Break Neck, while still further beyond toward the east sweeps the
Fishkill range, sentineled by South Beacon, 1,625 feet in height, from
whose summit midnight gleams aroused the countryside for leagues and
scores of miles during those seven long years when men toiled
and prayed for freedom. Close at hand on the right will be seen
Constitution Island, formerly the home of Miss Susan Warner, who died
in 1885, author of "Queechy" and the "Wide, Wide World." Here the
ruins of the old fort are seen. The place was once called Martalaer's
Rock Island. A chain was stretched across the river at this point to
intercept the passage of boats up the Hudson, but proved ineffectual,
like the one at Anthony's Nose, as the impetus of the boats snapped
them both like cords.
Some years ago, when the first delegation of Apache Indians was
brought to Washington to sign a treaty of peace, the Indians were
taken for an "outing" up the Hudson, by General O. O. Howard and Dr.
Herman Bendell, Superintendent of Indian Affairs for Arizona. It is
said that they noted with cold indifference the palaces along the
river front: "the artistic terraces, the well-kept, sloping lawns, the
clipped hedges and the ivy-grown walls made no impression on them, but
when the magnificent picture of the Hudson above West Point revealed
itself, painted by the rays of the sinking sun, these wild men stood
erect, raised their hands high above their heads and uttered a
monosyllabic expression of delight, which was more expressive than
volumes of words."
* * *
The queenly Hudson circling at thy feet
Lingers to sing a song of joy and love,
Pouring her heart in rippling wavelets sweet,
Which sun-kissed glance up to thy throne above.
_Kenneth Bruce._
* * *
Sir Robert Temple also rises into rapture over the northern gate
of the Highlands. "One of the fairest spectacles to be seen on the
earth's surface; not on any other river or strait--not on Ganges or
Indus, on the Dardanelles or the Bosphorus, on the Danube or the
Rhine, on the Neva or the Nile--have I ever observed so fairy-like a
scene as this on the Hudson. The only water-view to rival it is that
of the Sea of Marmora, opposite Constantinople."
Most people who visit our river, naturally desire a brilliant sunlit
day for their journey, and with reason, but there are effects, in fog
and rain and driving mist, only surpassed amid the Kyles of Bute,
in Scotland. The traveler is fortunate, who sees the Hudson in many
phases, and under various atmospheric conditions. A midnight view is
peculiarly impressive when the mountain spirits of Rodman Drake answer
to the call of his "Culprit Fay."
"'Tis the middle watch of a summer night,
The earth is dark but the heavens are bright,
The moon looks down on Old Cro' Nest--
She mellows the shade on his shaggy breast,
And seems his huge gray form to throw
In a silver cone on the wave below."
It is said that the "Culprit Fay" was written by Drake in three days,
and grew out of a discussion which took place during a stroll through
this part of the Highlands between Irving, Halleck, Cooper and
himself, as to the filling of a new country with old-time legends.
Drake died in 1820. Halleck's lines to his memory are among the
sweetest in our language. It is said that Halleck, on hearing Drake
read his poem, "The American Flag," sprang to his feet, and in a
semi-poetic transport, concluded the lines with burning words, which
Drake afterwards appended:
"Forever float that standard sheet,
Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us."
* * *
It floweth deep and strong and wide
This river of romance
Along whose banks on moonlight nights
The Highland fairies dance.
_E. A. Lente._
* * *
Just opposite Old Cro' Nest is the village of Cold Spring, on the east
bank, which receives its name naturally from a cold spring in the
vicinity; and it is interesting to remember that the famous Parrott
guns were made at this place, and many implements of warfare during
our civil strife. The foundry was started by Gouverneur Kemble in
1828, and brought into wide renown by the inventive genius of Major
Parrott. Cold Spring has a further distinction in having the first
ground broken, about three miles from the river, for the greatest
engineering enterprise of the age--"The Water Supply of the
Catskills," when Mayor McClellan, in June, 1907, began the work with
his silver shovel. A short distance north of the village is
=Undercliff= (built by John C. Hamilton, son of Alexander Hamilton,
but more particularly associated with the memory of the poet, Col.
George P. Morris), lies, in fact, _under the cliff_ and shadow of
Mount Taurus, and has a fine outlook upon the river and surrounding
mountains. Standing on the piazza, we see directly in front of us Old
Cro' Nest, and it was here that the poet wrote:
"Where Hudson's wave o'er silvery sands
Winds through the hills afar,
_Old Cro' Nest like a monarch stands
Crowned with a single star_."
Few writers were better known in their own day than the poet of
Undercliff, who wrote "My Mother's Bible," and "Woodman, Spare that
Tree." On one occasion, when Mr. Russell was singing it at Boulogne,
an old gentleman in the audience, moved by the simple and touching
beauty of the lines,
"Forgive the foolish tear,
But let the old oak stand."
rose and said: "I beg your pardon, but was the tree really spared?"
"It was," answered Mr. Russell, and the old gentleman resumed his
seat, amid the plaudits of the whole assembly. Truly
"Its glory and renown
Are spread o'er land and sea."
* * *
When freedom from her mountain height
Unfurled her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night
And set the stars of glory there.
_Joseph Rodman Drake._
* * *
The first European name given to Storm King was Klinkersberg (so
called by Hendrick Hudson, from its glistening and broken rock). It
was styled by the Dutch "Butter Hill," from its shape, and, with
Sugar Loaf on the eastern side below the point, helped to set out the
tea-table for the Dunderberg goblins. It was christened by Willis,
"Storm King," and may well be regarded the El Capitan of the
Highlands. Breakneck is opposite, on the east side, where St.
Anthony's Face was blasted away. In this mountain solitude there was a
shade of reason in giving that solemn countenance of stone the name
of St. Anthony, as a good representative of monastic life; and, by a
quiet sarcasm, the full-length nose below was probably suggested.
The mountain opposite Cro' Nest is "Bull Hill," or more classically,
"Mt. Taurus." It is said that there was formerly a wild bull in these
mountains, which had failed to win the respect and confidence of the
inhabitants, so the mountaineers organized a hunt and drove him over
the hill, whose name stands a monument to his exit. The point at the
foot of "Mount Taurus" is known as "Little Stony Point."
The Highlands now trend off to the northeast, and we see North Beacon,
or Grand Sachem Mountain, and Old Beacon about half a mile to the
north. The mountains were relit with beacon-fires in 1883, in honor of
the centennials of Fishkill and Newburgh, and were plainly seen sixty
miles distant.
This section was known by the Indians as "Wequehache," or, "the Hill
Country," and the entire range was called by the Indians "the endless
hills," a name not inappropriate to this mountain bulwark reaching
from New England to the Carolinas. As pictured in our "Long Drama,"
given at the Newburgh centennial of the disbanding of the American
Army,
That ridge along our eastern coast,
From Carolina to the Sound,
Opposed its front to Britain's host,
And heroes at each pass were found:
A vast primeval palisade,
With bastions bold and wooded crest,
A bulwark strong by nature made
To guard the valley of the west.
Along its heights the beacons gleamed,
It formed the nation's battle-line,
Firm as the rocks and cliffs where dreamed
The soldier-seers of Palestine.
It was also believed by the Indians that, in ancient days, "before the
Hudson poured its waters from the lakes, the Highlands formed one vast
prison, within whose rocky bosom the omnipotent Manitou confined
the rebellious spirits who repined at his control. Here, bound in
adamantine chains, or jammed in rifted pines, or crushed by ponderous
rocks, they groaned for many an age. At length the conquering Hudson,
in its career toward the ocean, burst open their prison-house, rolling
its tide triumphantly through the stupendous ruins."
* * *
The Highlands are here moulded in all manner of heights and
hollows; sometimes reaching up abruptly to twelve or fifteen
hundred feet, and again stretching away in long gorges and gentle
declivities.
_Susan Warner._
* * *
=Pollopel's Island=, east of the steamer's route, was once regarded as
a haunted spot, but its only witches are said to be snakes too lively
to be enchanted. In old times, the "new hands" on the sloops were
unceremoniously dipped at this place, so as to be proof-christened
against the goblins of the Highlands. Here also another useless
"impediment" was put across the Hudson in 1779, a chevaux-de-frise
with iron-pointed spikes thirty feet long, hidden under water,
strongly secured by cribs of stone. This, however, was not broken and
would probably have done effective work if some traitor to the cause
had not guided the British captains through an unprotected passage.
The State at one time contemplated the purchase of this island on
which to erect a statue to Hendrick Hudson. For some reason Governor
Flower vetoed the bill. It is now owned by Mr. Francis Bannerman,
an energetic business man, who perhaps some day may see his way to
promote a monument to Hudson on the splendid pedestal which nature has
already completed.
* * *
What sights and sounds at which the world has wondered
Within these wild ravines have had their birth!
Young Freedom's cannon from these glens have thundered
And sent their startling echoes o'er the earth.
_Charles Fenno Hoffman._
* * *
=Cornwall-on-the-Hudson.=--This locality N. P. Willis selected as the
most picturesque point on the Hudson. The village lies in a lovely
valley, which Mr. Beach has styled in his able description, as "an
offshoot of the Ramapo, up which the storm-winds of the ocean drive,
laden with the purest and freshest air."
=Idlewild.=--Where Willis spent the last years of his life is a
charming spot and rich with poetic memories. E. P. Roe also chose
Cornwall for his home. Lovers of the Hudson are indebted to Edward
Bok for his realistic sketch of an afternoon visit. The "Idlewild" of
to-day is still green to the memory of the poet. Since Willis' death
the place has passed in turn into various hands, until now it belongs
to a wealthy New York lawyer, who has spent thousands of dollars on
the house and grounds. The old house still stands, and here and there
in the grounds remains a suggestion of the time of Willis. The famous
pine-drive leading to the mansion, along which the greatest literary
lights of the Knickerbocker period passed during its palmy days, still
remains intact, the dense growth of the trees only making the road the
more picturesque. The brook, at which Willis often sat, still runs on
through the grounds as of yore. In the house, everything is remodeled
and remodernized. The room from whose windows Willis was wont to look
over the Hudson, and where he did most of his charming writing, is now
a bedchamber, modern in its every appointment, and suggesting its age
only by the high ceiling and curious mantel. Only a few city blocks
from "Idlewild" is the house where lived E. P. Roe, the author of so
many popular novels, as numerous, almost, in number as the several
hundreds of thousands of circulation which they secured. There are
twenty-three acres to it in all, and, save what was occupied by the
house, every inch of ground was utilized by the novelist in his hobby
for fine fruits and rare flowers. Now nothing remains of the beauty
once so characteristic of the place. For four years the grounds have
missed the care of their creator. Where once were the novelist's
celebrated strawberry beds, are now only grass and weeds. Everything
is grown over, only a few trees remaining as evidence that the grounds
were ever known for their cultivated products. A large board sign
announces the fact that the entire place is for sale.
* * *
The river narrows at their proud behest
And creeps more darkly as it deeper flows,
And fitful winds swirl through the long defile
Where the great Highlands keep their stern repose.
_E.A. Lente._
* * *
Cornwall has been for many years a favorite resort of the Hudson
Valley and her roofs shelter in the summer season many thousand
people. The road completed in 1876, from Cornwall to West Point, gives
one a pleasant acquaintance with the wooded Highlands. It passes over
the plateau of Cro' Nest and winds down the Cornwall slope of Storm
King. The tourist who sees Cro' Nest and Storm King only from the
river, has but little idea of their extent. Cro' Nest plateau is about
one thousand feet above the parade ground of West Point, and overlooks
it as a rocky balcony. These mountains, with their wonderful lake
system, are, in fact, the "Central Park" of the Hudson. Within a
radius of ten miles are clustered over forty lakes, and we very much
doubt if one person in a thousand ever heard of them. A convenient
map giving the physical geography of this section would be of great
service to the mountain visitor. The Cornwall pier, built by the _New
York, Ontario and Western Railroad_ in 1892 for coal and freight
purposes, will be seen on our left near the Cornwall dock. This
railroad leaves the _West Shore_ at this point and forms a pleasant
tourist route to the beautiful inland villages and resorts of the
State.
* * *
A solitary gleam struck on the base of the Highland peak, and
moved gracefully up its side, until reaching the summit, it stood
for a minute forming a crown of glory to the sombre pile.
_James Fenimore Cooper._
* * *
=Newburgh to Poughkeepsie.=
=Newburgh=, 60 miles from New York. Approaching the city of Newburgh,
we see a building of rough stone, one story high, with steep
roof--known as Washington's Headquarters. For several years prior to,
and during the Revolution, this was the home of Jonathan Hasbrouck,
known far and wide for business integrity and loyalty to liberty. This
house was built by him, apparently, in decades; the oldest part, the
northeast corner, in 1750; the southeast corner, in 1760, and the
remaining half in 1770. It fronted west on the king's highway, now
known as Liberty Street, with a garden and family burial plot to the
east, lying between the house and the river. It was restored as nearly
as possible to its original character on its purchase by the State
in 1849, and it is now the treasure-house of many memories, and of
valuable historic relics. A descriptive catalogue, prepared for
the trustees, under act of May 11, 1874, by a patient and careful
historian, =Dr. E. M. Ruttenber=, will be of service to the visitor and
can be obtained on the grounds. The following facts, condensed from
his admirable historical sketch, are of practical interest:
"=Washington's Headquarters=, or the Hasbrouck house, is situated in
the southeast part of the city, constructed of rough stone, one story
high, fifty-six feet front by forty-six feet in depth, and located on
what was originally Lot No. 2, of the German Patent, with title vested
in Heman (Herman?) Schoneman, a native of the Palatinate of Germany,
who sold, in 1721, to James Alexander, who subsequently sold to
Alexander Colden and Burger Meynders, by whom it was conveyed to
Jonathan Hasbrouck, the grandson of Abraham Hasbrouck, one of the
Huguenot founders of New Paltz. He was a man of marked character; of
fine physique, being six feet and four inches in height; was colonel
of the militia of the district, and in frequent service in guarding
the passes of the Highlands. His occupation was that of a farmer, a
miller, and a merchant. He died in 1780. The first town meeting for
the Precinct of Newburgh was held here on the first Tuesday in April,
1763, when its owner was elected supervisor. Public meetings continued
to be held here for several years. During the early part of the
Revolution, the committee of safety, of the precinct, assembled here;
here military companies were organized, and here the regiment which
Colonel Hasbrouck commanded assembled, to move hence to the defence of
the Highland forts."
* * *
Sacred in this mansion hoary,
'Neath its roof-tree long ago
Dwelt the father of our glory,
He whose name appalled the foe.
_Mary E. Monell._
* * *
From this brief outline, it will be seen that the building is
singularly associated with the history of the Old as well as of the
New World: with the former through the original grantee of the land,
recalling the wars which devastated the Palatinate and sent its
inhabitants, fugitive and penniless, to other parts of Europe and to
America; through his successor with the Huguenots of France, and,
through the public meetings which assembled here, and especially
through its occupation by Washington, with the struggle for American
independence.
In the spring of 1782 Washington made this building his headquarters,
and remained here until August 18, 1783, on the morning of which day
he took his departure from Newburgh. At this place he passed through
the most trying period of the Revolution: the year of inactivity on
the part of Congress, of distress throughout the country, and of
complaint and discontent in the army, the latter at one time bordering
on revolt among the officers and soldiers.
It was at this place, on the 22d day of May, 1782, that Colonel
Nicola, on behalf of himself and others, proposed that Washington
should become king, for the "national advantage," a proposal that was
received by Washington with "surprise and astonishment," "viewed with
abhorrence," and "reprehended with severity." The temptation which was
thus repelled by Washington, had its origin with that portion of the
officers of the army, who while giving their aid heartily to secure
an independent government, nevertheless believed that that government
should be a monarchy. The rejection of the proposition by Washington
was not the only significant result. The rank and file of the army
rose up against it, and around their camp-fires chanted their purpose
in Billings' song, "No King but God!" From that hour a republic became
the only possible form of government for the enfranchised Colonies.
* * *
With silvered locks and eyes grown dim,
As victory's sun proclaimed the morn,
He pushed aside the diadem
With stern rebuke and patriot scorn.
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
The inattention of Congress to the payment of the army, during the
succeeding winter, gave rise to an equally important episode in the
history of the war. On the 10th of March, 1783, the first of the
famous "Newburgh Letters" was issued, in which, by implication at
least, the army was advised to revolt. The letter was followed by an
anonymous manuscript notice for a public meeting of officers on
the succeeding Tuesday. Washington was equal to the emergency. He
expressed his disapprobation of the whole proceeding, and with great
wisdom, requested the field officers, with one commissioned officer
from each company, to meet on the Saturday preceding the time
appointed by the anonymous notice. He attended this meeting and
delivered before it one of the most touching and effective addresses
on record. When he closed his remarks, the officers unanimously
resolved "to reject with disdain" the infamous proposition contained
in the anonymous address.
The meeting of officers referred to was held at the New Building or
"Temple" as it was called, in New Windsor, but Washington's address
was written at his headquarters. The "Newburgh Letters," to which it
was a reply, were written by Major John Armstrong, aid-de-camp to
General Gates. The anonymously called meeting was not held. The
motives of its projectors we will not discuss; but its probable
effect, had it been successful, must be considered in connection
with Washington's encomium of the result of the meeting which he had
addressed: "Had this day been wanting, the world had never known the
height to which human greatness is capable of attaining."
* * *
Freemen pause! this ground is holy,
Noble spirits suffered here,
Tardy Justice, marching slowly,
Tried their faith from year to year.
_Mary E. Monell._
* * *
Serene and calm in peril's hour,
An honest man without pretence,
He stands supreme to teach the power
And brilliancy of common-sense.
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
Notice of the cessation of hostilities was proclaimed to the army
April 19, 1783. It was received with great rejoicings by the troops
at Newburgh, and under Washington's order, was the occasion of
an appropriate celebration. In the evening, signal beacon lights
proclaimed the joyous news to the surrounding country. Thirteen
cannon came pealing up from Fort Putnam, which were followed by a
_feu-de-joie_ rolling along the lines. The mountain sides resounded
and echoed like tremendous peals of thunder, and the flashing from
thousands of fire-arms, in the darkness of the evening, was like unto
vivid flashes of lightning from the clouds. From this time furloughs
were freely granted to soldiers who wished to return to their homes,
and when the army was finally disbanded those absent were discharged
from service without being required to return. That portion of the
army, which remained at Newburgh on guard duty, after the removal of
the main body to West Point in June, were participants here in the
closing scenes of the disbandment, when, on the morning of November
3, 1783, "the proclamation of Congress and the farewell orders of
Washington were read, and the last word of command given." From
Monell's "Handbook of Washington's Headquarters" we also quote a
general description of the house and its appearance when occupied by
the commander-in-chief. "Washington's family consisted of himself, his
wife, and his aid-de-camp, Major Tench Tilghman. The large room, which
is entered from the piazza on the east, known as 'the room with seven
doors and one window,' was used as the dining and sitting-room. The
northeast room was Washington's bedroom and the one adjoining it on
the left was occupied by him as a private office. The family room was
that in the southeast; the kitchen was the southwest room; the parlor
the northwest room. Between the latter and the former was the hall and
staircase and the storeroom, so called for having been used by Colonel
Hasbrouck and subsequently by his widow as a store. The parlor was
mainly reserved for Mrs. Washington and her guests. A Mrs. Hamilton,
whose name frequently appears in Washington's account book, was his
housekeeper, and in the early part of the war made a reputation for
her zeal in his service, which Thacher makes note of and Washington
acknowledges in his reference to an exchange of salt. There was little
room for the accommodation of guests, but it is presumed that the
chambers were reserved for that purpose. Washington's guests, however,
were mainly connected with the army and had quarters elsewhere. Even
Lafayette had rooms at DeGrove's Hotel when a visitor at headquarters.
"The building is now substantially in the condition it was during
Washington's occupation of it. The same massive timbers span the
ceiling; the old fire-place with its wide-open chimney is ready for
the huge back-logs of yore; the seven doors are in their places;
the rays of the morning sun still stream through the one window; no
alteration in form has been made in the old piazza--the adornments on
the walls, if such the ancient hostess had, have alone been changed
for souvenirs of the heroes of the nation's independence. In
presence of these surroundings, it requires but little effort of the
imagination to restore the departed guests. Forgetting not that this
was Washington's private residence, rather than a place for the
transaction of public business, we may, in the old sitting-room
respread the long oaken table, listen to the blessing invoked on the
morning meal, hear the cracking of joints, and the mingled hum of
conversation. The meal dispensed, Mrs. Washington retires to appear at
her flower beds or in her parlor to receive her morning calls. Colfax,
the captain of the life-guard, enters to receive the orders of the
day--perhaps a horse and guard for Washington to visit New Windsor,
or a barge for Fishkill or West Point, is required; or it may be
Washington remains at home and at his writing desk conducts his
correspondence, or dictates orders for army movements. The old
arm-chair, sitting in the corner yonder, is still ready for its former
occupant.
"The dinner hour of five o'clock approaches; the guests of the day
have already arrived. Steuben, the iron drill-master and German
soldier of fortune, converses with Mrs. Washington. He had reduced
the simple marksmen of Bunker Hill to the discipline of the armies
of Europe and tested their efficiency in the din of battle. He has
leisure now, and scarcely knows how to find employment for his active
mind. He is telling his hostess, in broken German-English, of the
whale (it proved to be an eel) he had caught in the river. Hear his
hostess laugh! And that is the voice of Lafayette, relating perhaps
his adventures in escaping from France, or his mishap in attempting
to attend Mrs. Knox's last party. Wayne, of Stony Point; Gates, of
Saratoga; Clinton, the Irish-blooded Governor of New York, and their
compatriots--we may place them all at times beside our _Pater Patriae_
in this old room, and hear amid the mingled hum his voice declare:
'Happy, thrice happy, shall they be pronounced hereafter, who have
contributed anything, who have performed the meanest office in
erecting this stupendous fabric of Freedom and Empire on the broad
basis of independency; who have assisted in protecting the rights of
human nature, and in establishing an asylum for the poor and oppressed
of all nations and religions.'
"In France, some fifty years after the Revolution, Marbois reproduced,
as an entertainment for Lafayette, then an old man, this old
sitting-room and its table scene. From his elegant saloon he conducted
his guests, among whom were several Americans, to the room which he
had prepared. There was a large open fire-place, and plain oaken
floors; the ceiling was supported with large beams and whitewashed;
there were the seven small-sized doors and one window with heavy sash
and small panes of glass. The furniture was plain and unlike any then
in use. Down the centre of the room was an oaken table covered with
dishes of meat and vegetables, decanters and bottles of wine, and
silver mugs and small wine glasses. The whole had something the
appearance of a Dutch kitchen. While the guests were looking around in
surprise at this strange procedure, the host, addressing himself to
them said, 'Do you know where we now are?' Lafayette looked around,
and, as if awakening from a dream, he exclaimed, 'Ah! the seven doors
and one window, and the silver camp goblets such as the Marshals of
France used in my youth. We are at Washington's Headquarters on the
Hudson fifty years ago.'"
* * *
One window looking toward the east;
Seven doors wide-open every side;
That room revered proclaims at least
An invitation free and wide.
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
The goodness which characterizes Washington is felt
by all around him, but the confidence he inspires is
never familiar; it springs from a profound esteem for
his virtues and a great opinion of his talents.
_Marquis de Chastellux._
* * *
From these headquarters Washington promulgated his
memorable order for the cessation of hostilities and
recalled the fact that its date, April 18th, was the anniversary
of the battles of Lexington and Concord.
_Thomas F. Bayard._
* * *
The Hasbrouck family returned to their old home, made historic for all
time, after the disbandment of the army and remained until it became
the property of the State. On July 4, 1850, the place was formally
dedicated by Major-General Winfield Scott, dedicatory address
delivered by John J. Monell, an ode by Mary E. Monell, and an oration
by Hon. John W. Edmunds. The centennial of the disbanding of the army
was observed here October 18, 1883. After the noonday procession
of 10,000 men in line, three miles in length, with governors and
representative people from almost every State, 150,000 people, "ten
acres" square, gathered in the historic grounds. Senator Bayard, of
Delaware, was chairman of the day. Hon. William M. Evarts was the
orator, and modestly speaking in the third person, Wallace Bruce,
author of this handbook, was the poet. No one there gathered can ever
forget that afternoon of glorious sunlight or the noble pageant. The
great mountains, which had so frequently been the bulwark of liberty
and a place of refuge for our fathers, were all aglow with beauty, as
if, like Horeb's bush, they too would open their lips in praise and
thanksgiving. One of the closing sentences of Senator Evarts' address
is unsurpassed in modern or ancient eloquence: "These rolling years
have shown growth, forever growth, and strength, increasing strength,
and wealth and numbers ever expanding, while intelligence, freedom,
art, culture and religion have pervaded and ennobled all this material
greatness. Wide, however, as is our land and vast our population
to-day, these are not the limits to the name, the fame, the power of
the life and character of Washington. If it could be imagined that
this nation, rent by disastrous feuds, broken in its unity, should
ever present the miserable spectacle of the undefiled garments of his
fame parted among his countrymen, while for the seamless vesture
of his virtue they cast lots--if this unutterable shame, if this
immeasurable crime, should overtake this land and this people, be sure
that no spot in the wide world is inhospitable to his glory, and
no people in it but rejoices in the influence of his power and his
virtue." In his lofty sentences the old heroes seemed to pass again
in review before us, and the daily life of that heroic band, when
Congress sat inactive and careless of its needs until the camp rose in
mutiny, happily checked, however, by the great commander in a single
sentence. It will be remembered that Washington began to read his
manuscript without glasses, but was compelled to stop, and, as he
adjusted them to his eyes, he said, "You see, gentlemen, that I have
not only grown gray, but blind, in your service." It is needless to
say that the "anonymously called" meeting was not held.
He quelled the half-paid mutineers,
And bound them closer to the cause;
His presence turned their wrath to tears,
Their muttered threats to loud applause.
The great Republic had its birth
That hour beneath the army's wing,
Whose leader taught by native worth
The man is grander than the king.
* * *
We hear the anthem once again,--
"No king but God!"--to guide our way,
Like that of old--"Good-will to men"--
Unto the shrine where freedom lay.
_Wallace Bruce_.
* * *
Near at hand, and also plainly seen from the river, is the new Tower
of Victory, fifty-three feet high, costing $67,000. It contains a
life-size statue of Washington, in the act of sheathing his sword,
with bronze figures representing the rifle, the artillery, the line
officer and dragoon service of our country, with a bronze tablet on
the east wall bearing the inscription: "This monument was erected
under the authority of the Congress of the United States, and of
the State of New York, in commemoration of the disbandment, under
proclamation of the Continental Congress, of October 18, 1783, of
the armies, by whose patriotic and military virtue, our national
independence and sovereignty were established." The Belvidere, reached
by a spiral staircase, is capable of holding one hundred persons,
and the view therefrom takes in a wide extent of panoramic beauty.
Newburgh has not only reason to be proud of her historical landmarks
and her beautiful situation, but also of her commercial prosperity.
In olden times, it was a great centre for all the western and
southwestern district, farmers and lumbermen coming from long
distances in the interior. Soon after the Revolution she was made a
village, when there were only two others in the State. Before the days
of the Erie canal, this was the shortest route to Lake Erie, and was
made by stage _via_ Ithaca. With increasing facilities of railway
communication, she has also easily held her own against all commercial
rivals. The _West Shore Railroad_, the _Erie Railway_, the _New York
Central_ and the _New York and New England_ across the river, and
several Hudson river steamers, make her peculiarly central. The city
is favored with beautiful driveways, amid charming country seats.
The New Paltz road passes the site where General Wayne had his
headquarters, also, the "Balm of Gilead tree," which gave the name of
Balmville to the suburban locality. Another road affords a glimpse of
the "Vale of Avoca," named after the well-known glen in Ireland, of
which Tom Moore so sweetly sung. Here, some say, a treacherous attempt
was made on the life of Washington, but it is not generally credited
by critical historians. As the steamer leaves the dock, and we look
back upon the factories and commercial houses along the water front,
crowned by noble streets of residence, with adjoining plateau,
sweeping back in a vast semi-circle as a beautiful framework to
the wide bay, we do not wonder that Hendrick Hudson established a
prophetic record by writing "a very pleasant place to build a town."
[Illustration: WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS, NEWBURGH]
* * *
Washington! Brave without temerity; laborious without
ambition; generous without prodigality; noble
without pride; virtuous without severity.
_Marquis de Chastellux._
* * *
=Fishkill-on-the-Hudson.=--Directly opposite Newburgh, one mile north
of Denning's Point (formerly the eastern dock of the Newburgh ferry),
rises on a pleasant slope, the newer Fishkill of this region. A little
more than a mile from the landing, is the manufacturing village
of Matteawan, connected by an electric railroad. Old Fishkill, or
Fishkill Village, is about four miles inland, charmingly located,
under the slope of the Fishkill range. This was once the largest
village in Dutchess county, and was chosen for its secure position
above the Highlands, as the place to which "should be removed the
treasury and archives of the State, also, as the spot for holding the
subsequent sessions of the Provincial Conventions," after they were
driven from New York. A historical sketch of the town, by T. Van Wyck
Brinkerhoff, presents many things of interest. "Its history, anterior
to 1682, belongs to the red men of the valley, and, more than any
other spot, this was the home of their priests. Here they performed
their incantations and administered at their altars." According to
Broadhead, "It would seem that the neighboring Indians esteemed
the peltries from Fishkill as charmed by the incantations of the
aboriginal enchanters who lived along its banks, and the beautiful
scenery in which those ancient priests of the Highlands dwelt, is
thus invested with new poetic associations." Dunlap speaks of them as
"occupying the Highlands, called by them Kittatenny Mountains. Their
principal settlement, designated Wiccapee, was situated in the
vicinity of Anthony's Nose. Here too, lived the Wappingers, a war-like
and brave tribe, extending themselves along the Matteawan, along
the Wappingers Kill and tributaries, along the Hudson, and to the
northward, across the river into Ulster County. These and other tribes
to the south, west and north, were parts of and tributaries to the
great Iroquois confederation--the marvel for all time to come of a
system of government so wise and politic, and for men so eloquent and
daring. The Wappingers took part in the Dutch and Indian wars of 1643
and 1663, led on by their war chiefs, Wapperonk and Aepjen. A few
Indian names are still remaining, and a few traces of their history
still left standing. The name Matteawan is Indian, signifying 'Good
Beaver Grounds,' and the name Wappinger still speaks of those who
once owned the soil along the Hudson. Their name for the stream was
Mawanassigh, or Mawenawasigh. Wiccapee and Shenondoah are also Indian
names of places in Fishkill Hook, and East Fishkill, and Apoquague,
still surviving as the name of a country postoffice, was the Indian
style of what is now called Silver Lake, signifying 'round pond.' In
Fishkill Hook until quite recently, there were traces of their burial
grounds, and many apple and pear trees are still left standing, set
there by the hands of the red man before the country had been occupied
by Europeans."
* * *
For here amid these hills he once kept court--
He who his country's eagle taught to soar
And fired those stars which shine o'er every shore.
_Charles Fenno Hoffman._
* * *
To return to Brinkerhoff, "The first purchase of land in the county
of Dutchess, was made in the town of Fishkill. On the 8th day
of February, 1682, a license was given by Thomas Dongan,
Commander-in-chief of the Province of New York, to Francis Rombout and
Gulian Ver Planck, to purchase a tract of land from the Indians. Under
this license, they bought, on the 8th day of August, 1683, of the
Wappinger Indians, all their right, title and interest to a certain
large tract of land, afterward known as the Rombout precinct. Gulian
Ver Planck died before the English patent was issued by Governor
Dongan; Stephanus Van Cortland was then joined in it with Rombout,
and Jacobus Kipp substituted as the representative of the children of
Gulian Ver Planck. On the 17th day of October, 1685, letters patent,
under the broad seal of the Province of New York, were granted by King
James the Second, and the parties to whom these letters patent were
granted, became from that time the undisputed proprietors of the soil.
There were 76,000 acres of these lands lying in Fishkill, and other
towns taken from the patent, and 9,000 acres lying in the limits of
the town of Poughkeepsie. Besides paying the natives, as a further
consideration for the privilege of their license, they were to pay
the commander-in-chief, Thomas Dongan, six bushels of good and
merchantable winter wheat every year." In the Book of Patents, at
Albany, vol. 5, page 72, will be found the deed, of special interest
to the historian and antiquarian.
* * *
It was a dainty day, and it grew more dainty towards
its close as the lights and shadows stretched athwart
our Highland landscape.
_Susan Warner._
* * *
"After the evacuation of New York, in the fall of 1776, and the
immediate loss of the seaboard, with Long Island and part of New
Jersey, Fishkill was at once crowded with refugees, as they were then
called, who sought, by banishing themselves from their homes on Long
Island and New York, to escape imprisonment and find safety here. The
interior army route to Boston passed through this place. Army stores,
workshops, ammunition, etc., were established and deposited here." The
Marquis De Chastellux, in his travels in North America, says: "This
town, in which there are not more than fifty houses in the space of
two miles, has been long the principal depot of the American army.
It is there they have placed their magazines, their hospitals, their
workshops, etc., but all of these form a town in themselves, composed
of handsome large barracks, built in the woods at the foot of the
mountains: for the American army, like the Romans in many respects,
have hardly any other winter quarters than wooden towns, or barricaded
camps, which may be compared to the 'hiemalia' of the Romans." These
barracks were situated on the level plateau between the residence of
Mr. Cotheal and the mountains. Portions of these grounds were no
doubt then covered with timber. Guarding the approach from the south,
stockades and fortifications were erected on commanding positions, and
regularly manned by detachments from the camp.
* * *
Unto him and them all owing
Peace as stable as our hills,
Plenty like yon river flowing
To the sea from thousand rills.
_Mary E. Monell._
* * *
"Upon one of these hills, rising out of this mountain pass-way, very
distinct lines of earthworks are yet apparent. Near the residence of
Mr. Sidney E. Van Wyck, by the large black-walnut trees, and east
of the road near the base of the mountain, was the soldiers' burial
ground. Many a poor patriot soldier's bones lie mouldering there; and
if we did but know how many, we would be startled at the number, for
this almost unknown and unnoticed burial ground holds not a few, but
hundreds of those who gave their lives for the cause of American
independence. Some fifteen years ago, an old lady who had lived near
the village until after she had grown to womanhood, told the writer
that after the battle of White Plains she went with her father through
the streets of Fishkill, and in places between the Dutch and Episcopal
churches, the dead were piled up like cord-wood. Those who died from
wounds in battle or from sickness in hospital were buried there. Many
of these were State militiamen, and it seems no more than just that
the State should make an appropriation to erect a suitable monument
over this spot. Rather than thus remain for another century, if a
rough granite boulder were rolled down from the mountain side and
inscribed: 'To the unknown and unnumbered dead of the American
Revolution,' that rough unhewn stone would tell to the stranger and
the passer-by, more to the praise and fame of our native town than
any of us shall be able to add to it by works of our own; for it is
doubtful whether any spot in the State has as many of the buried dead
of the Revolution as this quiet burial yard in our old town!" Here
also on June 2, 1883, was observed "The Fishkill Centennial," and
few of our centennials have been celebrated amid objects of greater
revolutionary interest. Near at hand, to quote from the official
report of the proceedings, is "Denning's Point where Washington
frequently, while waiting, tied his horses under those magnificent
'Washington oaks,' as he passed backward and forward from New Windsor
and Newburgh to Fishkill. Near by is the Verplanck House, Baron
Steuben's old headquarters. On Spy Hill and Continental Hill troops
were quartered. At Matteawan Sackett lived, and there is the Teller
House built by Madame Brett, where officers frequently resorted, and
there Yates dwelt when he presided over the legislative body while it
held its sessions in Fishkill, that had much to do with forming our
first State Constitution. Baron Steuben was for a while in the old
Scofield House at Glenham. In Fishkill are those renowned old churches
where legislative sittings were held, which were also used as
hospitals for the sick, and one of which is otherwise known as being
the place where Enoch Crosby, the spy, was imprisoned, and from which
he escaped. Near at hand the Wharton House (Van Wyck House), forever
associated with him, and made famous by Cooper's 'Spy.' In the
Brinckerhoff House above, Lafayette was dangerously ill with a fever,
and there, at Swartwoutville, Washington was often a visitor. Whenever
Washington was at Fishkill he made Colonel Brinckerhoff's his
headquarters. He occupied the bedroom back of the parlor, which
remains the same 'excepting a door that opens into the hall, which has
been cut through.' It is an old-fashioned house built of stone, with
the date 1738 on one of its gables." With the story of Fishkill we
close the largest page relating to our revolutionary heroes, and leave
behind us the Old Beacon Mountains which forever sentinel and proclaim
their glory.
* * *
No prouder sentinel of glory than the old Beacon
Mountain whose watch-fire guarded the valley and spoke
its rallying message to the Catskills and Berkshires and
the very foothills of the Green Mountains.
_Wallace Bruce._
* * *
The sun touched mountains in some places were of
a bright orange and the shadows between them deep
neutral tint or blue. And the river apparently had
stopped running to reflect.
_Susan Warner._
* * *
=Low Point=, or Carthage, is a small village on the east bank, about
four miles north of Fishkill. It was called by the early inhabitants
Low Point, as New Hamburgh, two miles north, was called High Point.
Opposite Carthage is Roseton, once known as Middlehope, and above this
we see the residence of Bancroft Davis and the Armstrong Mansion. We
now behold on the west bank a large flat rock, covered with cedars,
recently marked by a lighthouse, the--
=Duyvel's Dans Kammer.=--Here Hendrick Hudson, in his voyage up the
river, witnessed an Indian pow-wow--the first recorded fireworks in a
country which has since delighted in rockets and pyrotechnic displays.
Here, too, in later years, tradition relates the sad fate of a wedding
party. It seems that a Mr. Hans Hansen and a Miss Kathrina Van
Voorman, with a few friends, were returning from Albany, and
disregarding the old Indian prophecy, were all slain:--
"For none that visit the Indian's den
Return again to the haunts of men.
The knife is their doom! O sad is their lot!
Beware, beware of the blood-stained spot!"
Some years ago this spot was also searched for the buried treasures
of Captain Kidd, and we know of one river pilot who still dreams
semi-yearly of there finding countless chests of gold.
Two miles above, on the east side, we pass New Hamburgh, at the mouth
of =Wappingers Creek=. The name Wappinger had its origin from Wabun,
east, and Acki, land. This tribe, a sub-tribe of the Mahicans, held
the east bank of the river, from Manhattan to Roeliffe Jansen's Creek,
which empties into the Hudson near Livingston, a few miles south of
Catskill Station on the _Hudson River Railroad_. Passing Hampton
Point we see Marlborough, the head-centre of a large fruit industry,
delightfully located in the sheltered pass of the Maunekill. On the
east bank will be noticed several fine residences: "Uplands," "High
Cliff," "Cedars," and "Netherwood." Milton is now at hand on the west
bank, with its cosy landing and _West Shore Railroad_ station. This
pleasant village was one of the loved spots of J. G. Holland, and the
home of Mary Hallock Foote, until a modern "Hiawatha" took our Hudson
"Minnehaha" to far away western mountains.
* * *
The tulip tree majestic stirs
Far down the water's marge beside,
And now awake the nearer firs,
And toss their ample branches wide.
_Henry T. Tuckerman._
* * *
=Springbrook=, opposite Milton, a place of historic interest, near the
river bank, was bought by Theophilus Anthony before the Revolution.
Some of the links of the famous chain in the Highlands were forged
here in 1777. When the British ships ascended the river the family
fled to the woods, all but an old colored servant woman who wisely
furnished the soldiers a good dinner and got thereby their good will
to save the house. The old Flour Mill, however, was burned which stood
on the same site as the present Springbrook Mill. Theophilus Anthony's
only daughter married Thomas Gill after the Revolution, and from that
time the property has been in the Gill family. Few places in the
Hudson Valley have such ancient and continuous family history.
=Locust Grove=, with square central tower and open outlook, residence
of the late Prof. S. F. B. Morse, inventor of the telegraph, is seen on
the west bank; also the "Lookout," once known as Mine Hill, now a part
of Poughkeepsie cemetery, with charming driveway to the wooded point
where the visitor can see from his carriage one of the finest views
of the Hudson. The completion of this drive is largely due to the
enterprise of the late Mr. George Corlies, who did much to make
Poughkeepsie beautiful. The view from this "Lookout" takes in the
river for ten miles to the south, and reaches on the north to the
Catskills. In a ramble with Mr. Corlies over Lookout Point, he told
the writer that it was originally the purpose of Matthew Vassar to
erect a monument on Pollopel's Island to Hendrick Hudson. Mr. Corlies
suggested this point as the most commanding site. Mr. Vassar visited
it, and concluded to place the monument here. He published an article
in the Poughkeepsie papers to this effect, and, meeting Mr. Corlies
one week afterwards, said, "Not one person in the city of Poughkeepsie
has referred to my monument. I have decided to build a college for
women, where they can learn what is useful, practical and sensible."
It is interesting to note the fountain-idea of the first woman's
college in the world, as it took form and shape in the mind of its
founder.
[Illustration: POUGHKEEPSIE BRIDGE]
[Illustration: TROPHY POINT, WEST POINT]
[Illustration: OLD CRO' NEST AND STORM KING]
[Illustration: POLLIPEL'S ISLAND AND MOUNT TAURUS]
[Illustration: THE CATSKILLS FROM THE HUDSON]
[Illustration: NORTHERN GATE OF HIGHLANDS]
* * *
And from their leaguering legions thick and vast
The galling hail-shot in fierce volley falls,
While quick, from cloud to cloud, darts o'er the levin
The flash that fires the batteries of heaven!
_Knickerbocker Magazine._
* * *
[Illustration: MORNING VIEW AT BLUE POINT.]
We now see =Blue Point=, on the west bank; and, in every direction,
enjoy the finest views. The scenery seems to stand, in character,
between the sublimity of the Highlands and the tranquil, dreamy repose
of the Tappan Zee. It is said that under the shadow of these hills was
the favorite anchorage of--
=The Storm Ship=, one of our oldest and most reliable legends. The
story runs somewhat as follows: Years ago, when New York was a
village--a mere cluster of houses on the point now known as the
Battery--when the Bowery was the farm of Peter Stuyvesant, and the Old
Dutch Church on Nassau Street (which also long since disappeared),
was considered the country--when communication with the old world was
semi-yearly instead of semi-weekly or daily--say two hundred years
ago--the whole town one evening was put into great commotion by the
fact that a ship was coming up the bay.
* * *
See you beneath yon sky so dark
Fast gliding along a gloomy bark:--
By skeleton shapes her sails are furled,
And the hand that steers is not of this world.
_Legend of the Storm Ship._
* * *
She approached the Battery within hailing distance, and then, sailing
against both wind and tide, turned aside and passed up the Hudson.
Week after week and month after month elapsed, but she never returned;
and whenever a storm came down on Haverstraw Bay or Tappan Zee, it
is said that she could be seen careening over the waste; and, in the
midst of the turmoil, you could hear the captain giving orders, in
_good Low Dutch_; but when the weather was pleasant, her favorite
anchorage was among the shadows of the picturesque hills, on the
eastern bank, a few miles above the Highlands. It was thought by some
to be Hendrick Hudson and his crew of the "Half Moon," who, it was
well known, had once run aground in the upper part of the river,
seeking a northwest passage to China; and people who live in this
vicinity still insist that under the calm harvest moon and the
pleasant nights of September, they see her under the bluff of Blue
Point, all in deep shadow, save her topsails glittering in the
moonlight.
=Poughkeepsie=, 74 miles from New York, is now at hand, Queen City
of the Hudson, with name, derived from the Indian word Apokeepsing,
signifying "safe harbor." Near the landing a bold headland juts out
into the river, known as Kaal Rock, and no doubt this sheltering
rock was a safe harbor in days of birch canoes. It has been recently
claimed that the word signifies "muddy pond," which is neither true,
appropriate or poetic. Poughkeepsie does not propose to give up
her old-time "harbor name," particularly as it has been recently
discovered that the name "Kipsie" was also given by the Indians to a
"safe harbor" near the Battery on Manhattan Island. It is said that
there are over forty different ways of spelling Poughkeepsie, and
every year the postoffice record gives a new one. The first house was
built in 1702 by a Mr. Van Kleeck. The State legislature had a session
here in 1777 or 1778, when New York was held by the British and after
Kingston had been burned by Vaughan.
* * *
On the crest of the waves, a something that glides
Before the stiff breeze, and gracefully rides
On the inflowing tide majestic and free
A huge and mysterious bird of the sea.
_Irving Bruce._
* * *
Ten years later, the State convention also met here for ratification
of the Federal Constitution. The town has a beautiful location, and is
justly regarded the finest residence city on the river. It is not
only midway between New York and Albany, but also midway between the
Highlands and the Catskills, commanding a view of the mountain portals
on the south and the mountain overlook on the north--the Gibraltar of
revolutionary fame and the dreamland of Rip Van Winkle.
* * *
The azure heaven is filled with smiles,
The water lisping at my feet
From weary thought my heart beguiles.
_Henry Abbey._
* * *
The well known poet and _litterateur_, Joel Benton, who divides his
residence between New York and Poughkeepsie, in a recent article,
"The Midway City of the Hudson," written for the _Poughkeepsie Sunday
Courier_, says:
"Poughkeepsie as a township was incorporated in 1788. The village
bearing the name was formed in 1799 (incorporated as a city in 1854),
and soon became the center of a large trade running in long lines east
and west from the river. Dutchess County had at this time but a sparse
population. There was a post-road from New York to Albany; but the
building of the Dutchess Turnpike from Poughkeepsie to Sharon, Conn.,
connecting with one from that place to Litchfield, which took place
in 1808, was a capital event in its history. This made a considerable
strip of western Connecticut tributary to Poughkeepsie's trade.
"Over the turnpike went four-horse Concord stages, with berailed top
and slanting boot in the rear for trunks and other baggage. Each one
had the tin horn of the driver; and it was difficult to tell upon
which the driver most prided himself--the power to fill that thrilling
instrument, or his deft handling of the ponderous whip and multiplied
reins. Travelers to Hartford and Boston went over this route; and an
east and west through and way mail was a part of the burden. A sort of
overland express and freight line, styled the Market Wagon, ran in
and out of the town from several directions. One or more of these
conveyances started from as far east as the Housatonic River, and they
frequently crowded passengers in amongst their motley wares.
"Speaking of the stage-driver's horn recalls the fact that when the
steamboat arrived--which was so solitary an institution that for some
time it was distinctly called 'The Steamboat'--the tin horn did duty
also for it. When it was seen in the distance, either Albanyward or in
the New York direction, a boy went through the village blowing a horn
to arouse those who wished to embark on it. It is said the expectant
passengers had ample time, after the horn was sounded, to make their
toilets, run down to the river (or walk down) and take passage on it.
"In colonial days few were the people here; but they were a bright and
stirring handful. It seems as if every man counted as ten. The De's
and the Vans, the Livingstons, the Schuylers, the Montgomerys and ever
so many more of the Hudson River Valley settlers are still making
their impress upon the country. I suppose it need not now be counted
strange that the strong mixture of Dutch and English settlers, with a
few Huguenots, which finally made Dutchess county, were not a little
divided between Tory and Whig inclinations. Around Poughkeepsie,
and in its allied towns stretching between the Hudson River and the
Connecticut line, there was much strife. Gov. George Clinton in his
day ruled in the midst of much tumult and turbulence; but he held the
reins with vigor, in spite of kidnappers or critics. When the British
burned Kingston he prorogued the legislature to Poughkeepsie, which
still served as a 'safe harbor.' As the resolution progressed the Tory
faction was weakened, either by suppression or surrender.
"It was in the Poughkeepsie Court House that, by _one_ vote, after a
Homeric battle, the colony of New York consented to become a part of
the American republic, which consent was practically necessary to its
existence.
"How large a part two small incidents played here towards the result of
nationality. That single vote was one, and the news by express from
Richmond, announcing Virginia's previous ratification--and added
stimulus to the vote--was the other. Poughkeepsie honored in May,
1824, the arrival of Lafayette, and dined him, besides exchanging
speeches with him, both at the Forbus House, on Market Street, very
nearly where the Nelson House now stands, and at the Poughkeepsie
Hotel. It was one of Poughkeepsie's great days when he came. Daniel
Webster has spoken in her court house; and Henry Clay, in 1844, when a
presidential candidate, stopped for a reception. And it is said that,
by a mere accident, she just missed contributing a name to the list of
presidents of the United States. The omitted candidate was Nathaniel
P. Talmadge. He could have had the vice-presidential candidacy, the
story goes, in 1840, but would not take it. If he had accepted it, he
would have gone into history not merely as United States senator
from New York and afterwards Governor of Wisconsin territory, but as
president in John Tyler's place.
"In 1844, the New York State Fair was held here somewhere east of what
is now Hooker Avenue. It was an occasion thought important enough then
to be pictured and reported in the London _Illustrated News_. Two
years after the telegraph wires were put up in this city, before they
had yet reached the city of New York. Considering the fact that Prof.
S. F. B. Morse, the telegraph inventor, had his residence here, this
incident was not wholly inappropriate.
"The advent in 1849 of the _Hudson River Railroad_, which was an
enterprise in its day of startling courage and magnitude, constituted
a special epoch in the history of Poughkeepsie and the Hudson River
towns. Men of middle age here well remember the hostility and ridicule
the project occasioned when it was first broached. Some said no
railroad ever _could_ be built on the river's edge; and, if you
should build one, the enormous expense incurred would make it forever
unprofitable. It seemed then the height of Quixotism to lay an
expensive track where the river offered a free way to all. Property
holders, whose property was to be greatly benefited, fought the
railroad company with unusual spirit and persistence. But the railroad
came, nevertheless, and needs no advocate or apologist to-day. There
is no one now living here who would ask its removal, any more than he
would ask the removal of the Hudson River itself."
* * *
And lo! the Catskills print the distant sky,
And o'er their airy tops the faint clouds driven,
So softly blending, that the cheated eye
Forgets or which is earth or which is heaven.
_Theodore S. Fay_.
* * *
Mountains on mountains in the distance rise,
Like clouds along the far horizon's verge;
Their misty summits mingling with the skies,
Till earth and heaven seem blended into one.
_Bayard Taylor._
* * *
Poughkeepsie has been known for more than half a century as the City
of Schools. The Parthenon-like structure which crowns College Hill was
prophetic of a still grander and more widely known institution, the
first in the world devoted to higher culture for women,--
=Vassar College.=--This institution, founded by Matthew Vassar, and
situated two miles east of the city, maintains its prestige not only
as the first woman's college in point of time, but also first in
excellence and influence. The grounds are beautiful and graced by
noble buildings which have been erected year by year to meet the
continued demands of its patrons. The college is not seen from the
river but is of easy access by trolley from the steamboat landing.
=Eastman College= is also one of the fixed and solid institutions
of Poughkeepsie, located in the very heart of the city. It has
accomplished good work in preparing young men for business, and has
made Poughkeepsie a familiar word in every household throughout the
land. It was fortunate for the city that the energetic founder of this
college selected the central point of the Hudson as the place of all
others most suited for his enterprise, and equally fortunate for the
thousands of young men who yearly graduate from this institution,
as the city is charmingly located and set like a picture amid
picturesque scenery.
Among many successful public institutions of Poughkeepsie are the
Vassar Hospital, the Vassar Old Men's Home, the Old Ladies' Home, the
State Hospital and the Vassar Institute of Arts and Sciences.
* * *
I went three times up the Hudson; and if I lived in
New York should be tempted to ascend it three times a
week during the summer.
_Harriet Martineau._
* * *
The opera house is one of the pleasantest in the country and received
a high comment, still remembered, from Joseph Jefferson, for its
perfect acoustic quality. The armory, the Adriance Memorial Library to
the memory of Mr. and Mrs. John P. Adriance, and the historic Clinton
House on Main Street purchased in 1898 by the Daughters of the
Revolution, also claim the attention of the visitor. Several factories
are here located, the best known being that of Adriance, Platt & Co.,
whose Buckeye mowers and reapers have been awarded the highest honors
in Germany, Holland, France, Belgium, Sweden, Norway, Italy, Russia,
Switzerland, and the United States, and are sold in every part of
the civilized globe. The Phoenix Horseshoe Co., the Knitting-Goods
Establishment, and various shoe, shirt and silk thread factories
contribute to the material prosperity of the town. The drives about
Poughkeepsie are delightful. Perhaps the best known in the United
States is the Hyde Park road, six miles in extent, with many palatial
homes and charming pictures of park and river scenery. This is a part
of the Old Post Road and reminds one by its perfect finish of the
roadways of England. Returning one can take a road to the left leading
by and up to
=College Hill=, 365 feet in height, commanding a wide and extensive
prospect. The city lies below us, fully embowered as in a wooded park.
To the east the vision extends to the mountain boundaries of Dutchess
County, and to the north we have a view of the Catskills marshalled as
we have seen them a thousand times in sunset beauty along the horizon.
This property, once owned by Senator Morgan and his heirs, was happily
purchased by William Smith of Poughkeepsie, and given to the city as a
public park. There is great opportunity here to make this a thing of
beauty and a joy forever, for there are few views on the Hudson,
and none from any hill of its height, that surpass it in extent and
variety. The city reservoir lies to the north, about one hundred feet
down the slope of College Hill.
* * *
My heart is on the hills. The shades
Of night are on my brow;
Ye pleasant haunts and quiet glades,
My soul is with you now!
_Robert C. Sands._
* * *
The South Drive, a part of the Old Post Road, passes the gateway of
the beautiful rural cemetery, Locust Grove and many delightful homes.
Another interesting drive from Poughkeepsie is to Lake Mohonk and
Minnewaska, well-known resorts across the Hudson, in the heart of the
Shawangunk (pronounced Shongum) Mountains, also reached by railway
or stages via New Paltz. There are also many extended drives to
the interior of the county recommended to the traveler who makes
Poughkeepsie for a time his central point; chief among these, Chestnut
Ridge, formerly the home of the historian Benson J. Lossing, lying
amid the hill country of eastern Dutchess. Its mean altitude is about
1,100 feet above tide water, a fragment of the Blue Ridge branch of
the Appalachian chain of mountains, cleft by the Hudson at West Point,
stretching away to the Berkshire Hills. It is also easy of access by
the _Harlem Railroad_ from New York to Dover Plains with three miles
of carriage drive from that point. The outlook from the ridge is
magnificent; a sweep of eighty miles from the Highlands to the
Helderbergs, with the entire range of the Shawangunk and the
Catskills. Mr. Lossing once said that his family of nine persons had
required during sixteen years' residence on Chestnut Ridge, only ten
dollars' worth of medical attendance. Previous to 1868 he had resided
in Poughkeepsie, and throughout his life his form was a familiar one
in her streets.
* * *
Thy waves are old companions, I shall see
A well-remembered form in each old tree
And hear a voice long-loved in thy wild minstrelsy.
_Joseph Rodman Drake._
* * *
=The Dover Stone Church=, just west of Dover Plains Village, is also
well worth a visit. Here a small stream has worn out a remarkable
cavern in the rocks forming a gothic arch for entrance. It lies in a
wooded gorge within easy walk from the village. Many years ago the
writer of this handbook paid it an afternoon visit, and the picture
has remained impressed with wonderful vividness. The archway opens
into a solid rock, and a stream of water issues from the threshold. On
entering the visitor is confronted by a great boulder, resembling an
old-fashioned New England pulpit, reaching half way to the ceiling.
The walls are almost perfectly arched, and garnished here and there
with green moss and white lichen. A rift in the rocks extends the
whole length of the chapel, over which trees hang their green foliage,
which, ever rustling and trembling, form a trellis-work with the blue
sky, while the spray rising from behind the rock-worn altar seems like
the sprinkling of holy incense. After all these years I still hear the
voice of those dashing waters and dream again, as I did that day, of
the brook of Cherith where ravens fed the prophet of old. It is said
by Lossing, in his booklet on the Dover Stone Church, that Sacassas,
the mighty sachem of the Pequoids and emperor over many tribes between
the Thames and the Hudson River, was compelled after a disastrous
battle which annihilated his warriors, to fly for safety, and, driven
from point to point, he at last found refuge in this cave, where
undiscovered he subsisted for a few days on berries, until at last he
made his way through the territory of his enemies, the Mahicans, to
the land of the Mohawks.
* * *
Tell me, where'er thy silver bark be steering,
Bright Dian floating by fair Persian lands,
Tell if thou visited, thou heavenly rover,
A lovelier stream than this the wide world over.
_Charles Fenno Hoffman._
* * *
=Poughkeepsie to Kingston.=
Leaving the Poughkeepsie dock the steamer approaches the Poughkeepsie
Bridge which, from Blue Point and miles below, has seemed to the
traveler like a delicate bit of lace-work athwart the landscape,
or like an old-fashioned "valance" which used to hang from Dutch
bedsteads in the Hudson River farm houses. This great cantilever
structure was begun in 1873, but abandoned for several years. The work
was resumed in 1886 just in time to save the charter, and was finished
by the Union Bridge Company in less than three years. The bridge is
12,608 feet in length (or about two miles and a half), the track being
212 feet above the water with 165 feet clear above the tide in the
centre span. The breadth of the river at this point is 3,094 feet. The
bridge originally cost over three million dollars and much more has
been annually spent in necessary improvements. It not only affords a
delightful passenger route between Philadelphia and Boston, but also
brings the coal centres of Pennsylvania to the very threshold of New
England. Two railroads from the east centre here, and what was once
considered an idle dream, although bringing personal loss to many
stockholders, has been of material advantage to the city.
As the steamer passes under the bridge the traveler will see on the
left Highland station (_West Shore Railroad_) and above this the old
landing of New Paltz. A well traveled road winds from the ferry and
the station, up a narrow defile by the side of a dashing stream,
broken here and there in waterfalls, to Highland Village, New Paltz
and Lake Mohonk. _The Bridge and Trolley Line_ from Poughkeepsie make
a most delightful excursion to New Paltz, on the Wallkill, seat of one
of the State normal colleges.
* * *
My thoughts go back to thee, oh lovely lake,
Lake of the Sky Top! as thy beauties break
Upon the traveller of thy mountain road,
While sunset gilds thee, vision never fairer glowed!
_Alfred B. Street._
* * *
Prominent among many pleasant residences above Poughkeepsie are:
Mrs. F. J. Allen's of New York, Mrs. John F. Winslow's, Mrs. Thomas
Newbold's, J. Roosevelt's and Archie Rogers'. The large red buildings
above the Poughkeepsie water works are the Hudson River State
Hospital. Passing Crum Elbow Point on the left and the Sisters of the
White Cross Orphan Asylum, we see
=Hyde Park=, 80 miles from New York, on the east bank, named some say,
in honor of Lady Ann Hyde; according to others, after Sir Edward Hyde,
one of the early British Governors of the colony. The first prominent
place above Hyde Park, is Frederick W. Vanderbilt's, with Corinthian
columns; and above this "Placentia," once the home of James K.
Paulding.
Immediately opposite "Placentia," at West Park on the west bank, is
the home of John Burroughs, our sweetest essayist, the nineteenth
century's "White of Selborne." Judge Barnard of Poughkeepsie, once
said to the author of this handbook, "The best writer America has
produced after Hawthorne is John Burroughs; I wish I could see him."
It so happened that there had been an important "bank" suit a day or
two previous in Poughkeepsie which was tried before the judge in which
Mr. Burroughs had appeared as an important witness. The judge was
reminded of this fact when he remarked with a few emphatic words, the
absence of which seems to materially weaken the sentence: "Was that
Burroughs? Well, well, I wish I had known it."
* * *
How soothing is this solitude
With nature in her wildest mood,
Where Hudson deep, majestic, wide,
Pours to the sea his monarch tide.
_William Wilson._
* * *
=Mount Hymettus=, overlooking West Park, so named by "the author and
naturalist," has indeed been to him a successful hunting-ground for
bees and wild honey, and will be long remembered for sweeter stores of
honey encombed and presented in enduring type. Washington Irving says
of the early poets of Britain that "a spray could not tremble in the
breeze, or a leaf rustle to the ground, that was not seen by these
delicate observers and wrought up into some beautiful morality." So
John Burroughs has studied the Hudson in all its moods, knowing well
that it is not to be wooed and won in a single day. How clear this is
seen in his articles on "Our River":
"Rivers are as various in their forms as forest trees. The Mississippi
is like an oak with enormous branches. What a branch is the Red River,
the Arkansas, the Ohio, the Missouri! The Hudson is like the pine
or poplar--mainly trunk. From New York to Albany there is only an
inconsiderable limb or two, and but few gnarls and excrescences. Cut
off the Rondout, the Esopus, the Catskill and two or three similar
tributaries on the east side, and only some twigs remain. There
are some crooked places, it is true, but, on the whole, the Hudson
presents a fine, symmetrical shaft that would be hard to match in any
river in the world. Among our own water-courses it stands preeminent.
The Columbia--called by Major Winthrop the Achilles of rivers--is a
more haughty and impetuous stream; the Mississippi is, of course,
vastly larger and longer; the St. Lawrence would carry the Hudson as
a trophy in his belt and hardly know the difference; yet our river is
doubtless the most beautiful of them all. It pleases like a mountain
lake. It has all the sweetness and placidity that go with such bodies
of water, on the one hand, and all their bold and rugged scenery on
the other. In summer, a passage up or down its course in one of the
day steamers is as near an idyl of travel as can be had, perhaps,
anywhere in the world. Then its permanent and uniform volume, its
fullness and equipoise at all seasons, and its gently-flowing currents
give it further the character of a lake, or of the sea itself. Of
the Hudson it may be said that it is a very large river for its
size,--that is for the quantity of water it discharges into the sea.
Its watershed is comparatively small--less, I think, than that of the
Connecticut. It is a huge trough with a very slight incline, through
which the current moves very slowly, and which would fill from the sea
were its supplies from the mountains cut off. Its fall from Albany to
the bay is only about five feet. Any object upon it, drifting with the
current, progresses southward no more than eight miles in twenty-four
hours. The ebb-tide will carry it about twelve miles and the flood set
it back from seven to nine. A drop of water at Albany, therefore, will
be nearly three weeks in reaching New York, though it will get pretty
well pickled some days earlier. Some rivers by their volume and
impetuosity penetrate the sea, but here the sea is the aggressor, and
sometimes meets the mountain water nearly half way. This fact was
illustrated a couple of years ago, when the basin of the Hudson was
visited by one of the most severe droughts ever known in this part of
the State. In the early winter after the river was frozen over above
Poughkeepsie, it was discovered that immense numbers of fish were
retreating up stream before the slow encroachment of salt water. There
was a general exodus of the finny tribes from the whole lower part of
the river; it was like the spring and fall migration of the birds, or
the fleeing of the population of a district before some approaching
danger: vast swarms of cat-fish, white and yellow perch and striped
bass were _en route_ for the fresh water farther north. When the
people along shore made the discovery, they turned out as they do in
the rural districts when the pigeons appear, and, with small gill-nets
let down through holes in the ice, captured them in fabulous numbers.
On the heels of the retreating perch and cat-fish came the denizens of
the salt water, and codfish were taken ninety miles above New York.
When the February thaw came and brought up the volume of fresh water
again, the sea brine was beaten back, and the fish, what were left of
them, resumed their old feeding-grounds.
* * *
Still on the Half-Moon glides: before her rise swarms
of quick water fowl, and from her prow the sturgeon
leaps, and falls with echoing splash.
_Alfred B. Street._
* * *
Beneath--the river with its tranquil flood,
Around--the breezes of the morning, scented
With odors from the wood.
_William Allen Butler._
* * *
"It is this character of the Hudson, this encroachment of the sea upon
it, on account of the subsidence of the Atlantic coast, that led
Professor Newberry to speak of it as a drowned river. We have heard
of drowned lands, but here is a river overflowed and submerged in the
same manner. It is quite certain, however, that this has not always
been the character of the Hudson. Its great trough bears evidence
of having been worn to its present dimensions by much swifter and
stronger currents than those that course through it now. To this
gradual subsidence in connection with the great changes wrought by the
huge glacier that crept down from the north during what is called the
ice period, is owing the character and aspects of the Hudson as we see
and know them. The Mohawk Valley was filled up by the drift, the Great
Lakes scooped out, and an opening for their pent-up waters found
through what is now the St. Lawrence. The trough of the Hudson was
also partially filled and has remained so to the present day. There
is, perhaps, no point in the river where the mud and clay are not from
two to three times as deep as the water. That ancient and grander
Hudson lies back of us several hundred thousand years--perhaps more,
for a million years are but as one tick of the time-piece of the Lord;
yet even _it_ was a juvenile compared with some of the rocks and
mountains which the Hudson of to-day mirrors. The Highlands date
from the earliest geological race--the primary; the river--the old
river--from the latest, the tertiary; and what that difference
means in terrestrial years hath not entered into the mind of man to
conceive. Yet how the venerable mountains open their ranks for the
stripling to pass through. Of course, the river did not force its way
through this barrier, but has doubtless found an opening there of
which it has availed itself, and which it has enlarged. In thinking
of these things, one only has to allow time enough, and the most
stupendous changes in the topography of the country are as easy
and natural as the going out or the coming in of spring or summer.
According to the authority above referred to, that part of our coast
that flanks the mouth of the Hudson is still sinking at the rate of a
few inches per century, so that in the twinkling of a hundred thousand
years or so, the sea will completely submerge the city of New York,
the top of Trinity Church steeple alone standing above the flood. We
who live so far inland, and sigh for the salt water, need only to have
a little patience, and we shall wake up some fine morning and find the
surf beating upon our door-steps."