A half-hour later nearly the whole company returned to the front porch
as the most attractive spot, since from it was a very fine view of the
broad river and its opposite shore.
"Oh," shouted several young voices, "there's our flag! There's Old
Glory!"
"And it must be on a boat down close to the landing," added Edward
Leland. "May I run down and see, papa?"
"I think you could see quite as well from the summer-house out yonder
on the edge of the cliff," replied Mr. Leland, starting for that place
himself, followed by most of the others.
"Why it's the _Dolphin_, the _Dolphin_!" exclaimed several voices
simultaneously, as they reached the arbor and caught sight of the
pretty craft in the river below.
The young people were at once seized with an eager desire to get
aboard of her, and, as the captain seemed entirely willing, the
parents did not withhold their consent.
"Ah, papa," laughed Grace Raymond, "I understand now why you refused
my request to send for our yacht; she was already here, and you wanted
to give me a pleasant surprise."
"Yes, daughter, that was just it," he returned; "for I know you like
pleasant surprises. And I hope to give you and the rest of our party
some pleasant trips up and down the river in her."
"Which I am sure we shall all find extremely enjoyable, captain,"
remarked Grandma Elsie.
The whole company were wending their way down to the river and the
yacht as they talked, and presently they were all on board, viewing
and commenting admiringly upon the refurnishing and other
improvements.
"Are you all too tired of travel to enjoy a sail--perhaps only a short
one--up or down the river?" asked the captain.
"Oh, no--not we, indeed!" was the simultaneous exclamation of many
voices, older and younger; and not one was raised against it.
"I see you are all willing," said Captain Raymond, glancing about from
one to another of the bright, eager faces. "Suppose I take you to
Newburgh, which is not very far away, and let you see the Hasbrouck
House, Washington's old headquarters? How many would like that?"
"Oh, all of us! all of us!" cried several voices with enthusiasm.
"Then we will get up steam and go at once," he said. "Will that suit
you, my dear?" turning to Violet.
"Perfectly--if we may have a few minutes to go up to the house and
make some slight preparation. You see, I have come down without hat or
bonnet," she added with merry look and tone.
"Oh, yes, anyone who wishes may do that," he replied pleasantly. "And
I must give orders to my cook."
"Oh, no, captain," exclaimed Evelyn, overhearing him; "I have arranged
for dinner at the house, and----"
"Then, my dear girl, hurry up and rescind your orders; for we will not
be back in season to take that meal here; and the _Dolphin_ is well
supplied with provisions," was his smiling rejoinder. And with a hasty
"Oh, thank you, sir! You are very, very kind and thoughtful,"
accompanied by a pleased and grateful look, she hurried away after the
others, who were already making rapid progress toward Crag Cottage.
It did not take long to gather up the few articles wanted and return
to the yacht, which immediately started for Newburgh.
The weather was all that could be desired--a gentle breeze blowing
from the north, and light, fleecy white clouds tempering the heat of
the sun.
"How far from New York is Newburgh, papa?" asked Grace.
"Sixty miles," he replied. "It is on the western bank of the river and
in the midst of some of the finest scenery in the world, Lossing says,
and I entirely agree with him. Are you not of the same opinion,
mother?" turning to Grandma Elsie.
"Yes," she said heartily; "and we will have a fine view of it from the
piazza of the Hasbrouck House."
"Is that where we are going?" asked Little Elsie.
"Yes; that is the house where Washington had his headquarters at the
close of the Revolution."
"Oh, I'm glad!" exclaimed the little girl. "I'd like to see every
place where Washington used to be."
"Yes," said her mother; "I think we all would. But, now, let us not
miss the beautiful scenery we are passing through on our way to
Newburgh."
"Oh, yes, mamma, it is lovely! and I am proud of it as being part of
my country--my own dear native land."
"As we all are," said Grace. "I think my native land the best and
loveliest the sun shines upon."
Her father, standing near, smiled his approval of the sentiment, and
Grandma Elsie remarked pleasantly: "That is a good frame of mind to be
in when visiting Revolutionary scenes."
"This will not be your first visit to Newburgh and the Hasbrouck
House, mother?" said the captain in a tone of inquiry.
"No," she answered, "I was there some years ago, but am well pleased
to repeat my visit."
"When was it that Washington was there?" asked Elsie. "I know that
some of the time he was in Massachusetts and at other times in New
Jersey and Pennsylvania."
"Yes," said her father, "but he was here on the Hudson, holding his
headquarters at Newburgh, at the close of the Revolution. It was in
April, 1782, he took possession of his quarters there, and there he
continued most of the time until November, 1783, when the Continental
Army was disbanded."
"Because the war was over?" asked Eric Leland.
"Yes; and the brave men who had done and suffered so much together had
to bid each other farewell, separate, and go to their homes. Of course
they were very glad and thankful that liberty was gained and the
dreadful struggle over, yet it was sad to part; especially from their
beloved chief."
"Wasn't it there, father, that some of them had proposed to make him
king?" asked Grace.
"Yes; but he received the proposal with abhorrence. Washington had
fought to win freedom for his country, not to win power and glory for
himself. He had no hunger for them, but a great love of liberty for
his country and himself."
"Do you think he was as great a man as Napoleon, captain?" asked
Sydney.
"Greater, much greater! Napoleon undoubtedly had genius, but he was
utterly selfish, utterly unscrupulous in the means he took to gain
power and satisfy his own ambition--even sacrificing the wife he
probably really loved (after his own selfish fashion) in order to get
an heir to the throne he had usurped."
"And his fortunes began to wane from the time that he divorced poor
Josephine," remarked Mr. Leland.
"Yes; and the son and heir to gain which he had done such wickedness
never succeeded to the crown or throne," remarked Grandma Elsie. "'The
triumphing of the wicked is short.'"
"I never thought of it before," remarked Sydney; "but isn't it odd
that each of those great men married a widow with children, and had
none of his own by her?"
"And of our Washington it has been said, 'Providence left him
childless that his country might call him father,'" said Mrs. Leland.
"I have always thought that a very pretty idea."
"A true one too, I do believe," said Evelyn; "he was so true a
patriot--so wise, so unselfish, so true and good."
"A countryman to be very, very proud of, and very thankful to God for
giving us," said Grandma Elsie; "especially at that time, when he was
so much needed."
"Are there not a good many places in this neighborhood where something
happened during the Revolution, papa?" asked Grace.
"Yes, a good many. Orange County was one of the first settled portions
of this State, named in honor of William, Prince of Orange, afterward
King of England. The first settlers in what is now the town of
Newburgh were Germans. They remained for only a time, however. They
grew dissatisfied, sold out, and left; some going to Pennsylvania.
Their places were filled by English, Irish, New Englanders, and a few
Huguenots; and a number of settlements were soon planted along the
river and in the rich bottom lands bordering the smaller streams. Many
stirring tales could be told of their privations, alarms, and
sufferings from the attacks of the Indians, both before and during the
Revolution."
"Papa," said Little Elsie earnestly, "don't you think we ought to
thank our Heavenly Father very often that we didn't live then and here
instead of now and where we do?"
"Yes, indeed, daughter," he replied; "we have great reason to thank
God for the liberty and security that are ours, and I think we should
ever remember with love and gratitude the brave men who fought and
bled to secure these liberties for us."
"Indeed we should!" said Mrs. Travilla earnestly. "How it would have
cheered and helped them in their toils and privations and struggles if
they could have foreseen the great results visible in these days!"
It was not yet noon when they reached Newburgh, pausing in the
southern suburbs, where, on a hill overlooking the river, stood a gray
old building which the captain pointed out as the Hasbrouck House.
They had soon climbed the hill and were standing on the porch,
thinking with a thrill of feeling, as they glanced about them and
down at the river, that here Washington had stood in days long gone by
and gazed upon the same scenes, probably but little changed since
then.
Grandma Elsie, the captain, and Mr. Leland had all been there before,
and presently pointed out to the others various historic
places--Pollopel's Island, Fishkill, New Windsor, Plumb Point, and the
Beacon Hills; also, through the gateway in the Highlands formed by
Breakneck and Butter hills, glimpse of distant West Point and the
mountains that surround it.
Then they went inside the dwelling, passing first into a large square
room which they were told was used by Washington as a dining hall and
for his public audiences.
"Notice the doors and windows, children," said the captain.
"Windows, papa! why, there is only one!" exclaimed Elsie.
"Ah! and how many doors?" he asked.
"Why, seven!" cried Neddie; "I've counted them."
"Yes, you are right," said his father. "That"--pointing to one on the
left--"opens into what was Washington's sitting room; the other, on
the same side, into his bedroom."
"There is no plaster on this ceiling," remarked Edward Leland, looking
up. "But those great, heavy beams make it look very strong as well as
old-fashioned."
"Yes," said Captain Raymond; "they are nine inches wide and fourteen
deep. This part of the house is nearly one hundred and fifty years
old."
"How much of it, papa?" asked Lucilla.
"This large room and the two bedrooms there on the north side. That
part was built in 1750, was it not?" he asked, turning to the woman
who had admitted them.
"Yes, sir," she replied. "Some time after the kitchen; that is on the
south side. In 1770 they added to the west side. The dates are cut in
the stone of the walls."
"What a very big fireplace that is!" remarked Little Elsie--"the
largest I ever saw."
"Almost big enough to roast an ox in, I should say," said Edward
Leland.
"A small bullock probably," said his father.
"Who owns this house now?" asked the boy, turning to the woman.
"The State of New York," she answered. "It used to belong to the
Hasbrouck family, but the State bought it to keep as a relic of the
Revolution."
"I am glad they did," said Lucilla. "I think everything that
Washington ever used should be kept in memory of him."
"Yes, indeed," assented the woman. Then, leading the way, "And we have
a cabinet here of relics of the Revolution which I am sure will
interest you."
All were much interested in what she showed them, especially in some
muskets, of which she said, "They are some of those bought in France
by Lafayette, with his own money, and presented to his own favorite
corps of light infantry."
"Oh, that makes them very interesting!" exclaimed Lucilla, her cheeks
flushing and her eyes sparkling.
Sydney said inquiringly, "Lady Washington was here with her husband,
was she not?"
"Oh, yes," was the reply; "in the summer of 1783; and as she was fond
of gardening she had some flower beds out in the grounds."
"That was about at the end of the war," said Sydney.
"Yes," said the captain, "and it was in this old house that Washington
wrote his address to the officers of whom we were speaking a while
ago, and a circular letter addressed to the Governors of all the
States on disbanding the army. They were admirable documents.
"A good many of the troops went home on furlough, and then Washington,
having leisure for it, went up the Hudson with Governor Clinton to
visit the principal battlefields of the North--Stillwater,
Ticonderoga, and Crown Point; also to Fort Schuyler, on the Mohawk.
"He returned here, after an absence of nineteen days, to find a letter
from the President of Congress asking him to attend upon that body,
then in session at Princeton, N. J. He did so, after waiting a little
for the recovery of his wife, who was not well. And while waiting he
had, out yonder upon the lawn, an affecting final parting with many of
his subalterns and soldiers. That took place upon the day he left to
answer the call of Congress."
"Did he return here, captain?" asked Evelyn.
"No; he made his headquarters at West Point for a few days in
November, and from there went down to New York City and took
possession of it on its evacuation by the British."
Our party passed out upon the porch again, feasted their eyes upon the
beauties of the landscape for a few moments; then, having generously
remunerated the woman for her services, returned to the yacht.
Again seated upon the deck, they chatted among themselves, their talk
running for the most part upon the scenes through which they were
passing and the Revolutionary events connected with them.
The captain pointed out New Windsor, as they passed it, with the
remark that it was where Washington established his headquarters on
the 23d of June, 1779, and again near the close of 1780, remaining
till the summer of 1781.
"Oh, can you paint out the house, father?" exclaimed Lucilla.
"No," he replied; "it was a plain Dutch building, long since decayed
and demolished."
"Did not Washington go from New Windsor to Peekskill?" asked Grandma
Elsie.
"Yes," said the captain. "Oh, yonder is Plum Point also, and of that I
have a little story to tell. There, at the foot of that steep bank,
there was, in the times we have been talking of, a redoubt with a
battery of fourteen guns designed to cover strong _chevaux-de-frise_
and other obstructions placed in the river. A little above that
battery, and long before it was made, a loghouse used to stand. It
belonged to a Scotchman named M'Evers. When thinking of emigrating to
America, he asked his servant Mike if he would go with him. Mike,
being much attached to him, replied, 'Indeed, gude mon, I'll follow ye
to the gates o' hell if ye gang there yersel.' So they came over. The
ocean could not be crossed so rapidly in those days as in ours, and
their voyage was long and tempestuous. Then the vessel, instead of
entering New York Harbor by the Narrows, sailed through Long Island
Sound and the East River. At the whirlpool called Hellgate the ship
struck upon the Hog's Back with a terrible crash. The frightened
passengers--none of them more frightened than Mike--rushed upon the
deck. 'What place is it?' he asked. 'Hellgate,' answered a sailor.
'God ha' mercy on me!' groaned Mike; 'I promised my master I'd follow
him to the gates o' hell, but I didna say I'd gang through with him.'
However, the vessel floated off with the tide, carried its passengers
safely into the city, and Mike lived to be a gardener on Plum Point."
"Is that a real, true story, papa?" asked Elsie.
"I think so," he said.
"I suppose," said Grandma Elsie, "some--perhaps all--of you have heard
an anecdote in connection with that dining room of the Hasbrouck
House--published in the New York _Mirror_ for 1834?"
Several voices answered in the negative and urged her to go on and
tell it, which she did. "During the Revolution," she said, "a
Frenchman named Marbois was secretary of that legation here. Shortly
before Lafayette's death he, with the American minister and several of
his countrymen, was invited to dine at the house of Marbois. At the
supper hour the guests were shown into a room which presented a
strange contrast to the elegance of the apartments in which they had
spent the evening. There were numerous small doors; one uncurtained
small window; a low boarded, painted ceiling with large beams; all
together giving it very much the appearance of the kitchen of a Dutch
or Belgian farmhouse; and on the table was a repast quite in keeping
with the appearance of the room. There was a large dish of meat,
uncouth-looking pastry, and wine in bottles and decanters, accompanied
by glasses and silver mugs such as seemed but ill-suited to the habits
and tastes of modern Paris. 'Do you know where we now are?' the host
asked, addressing Lafayette and the other guests. They were too much
surprised to answer for a moment. They knew they had somewhere seen
something like it before--but where? 'Ah! the seven doors and one
window!' Lafayette exclaimed presently; '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.'"
"A great deal must have happened in this region during the
Revolution," remarked Mrs. Leland. "Haven't you another little story
for us, mother?"
"Yes; I was just thinking that the taking of a spy occurred not far
from here. At the time that Washington's headquarters were at
Newburgh, Generals Greene and Knox had theirs in a house on the New
Windsor Road about three miles west from Plum Point; and about a mile
farther west was the house of Mrs. Falls. There Governor Clinton had
his headquarters. He and his brother were in command of Forts Clinton
and Montgomery, among the Hudson Highlands, when the British succeeded
in taking them in spite of the desperate defence of the American
patriots. It was then General Clinton established his headquarters at
the house of Mrs. Falls and collected his dispersed troops preparatory
to marching to the defence of Kingston. About noon on the 10th of
October a horseman came riding up into the camp in great haste. The
sentinel challenged him.
"He replied, 'I am a friend and wish to see General Clinton.'
"The man was a Tory, bearing a message from Sir Henry Clinton to
Burgoyne, who was at that time hedged up in Saratoga. This messenger
supposed the American forces on the Hudson to be utterly broken and
destroyed; and, as the British never gave our officers their titles in
speaking of or to them, he thought General Clinton must belong to the
British Army, so believed himself among his friends.
"He was taken to Clinton's quarters, and when he was ushered into that
officer's presence he perceived his mistake. 'I am lost!' he exclaimed
to himself in a low but audible tone, and hastily taking something
from his pocket, swallowed it, evidently with some difficulty. This
aroused the suspicions of those about him; a physician was summoned,
and gave the prisoner a powerful dose of tartar emetic."
"Why, grandma, what a foolish fellow he was to take it!" exclaimed
Eric Leland.
"I think it was administered surreptitiously," she replied, "in a
glass of wine or beer probably, without letting him know their
suspicions or intentions. I have been giving you Lossing's version of
the affair, but years ago I read another, going rather more into
detail. It said the patriots did not let the Tory know their
suspicions of him, but, acting as if they thought him all right,
invited him to eat with them, and secretly put the tartar emetic in
the drink furnished him at the meal; that he grew very sick after
drinking it, left the table, and went out of doors. They watched him
secretly and saw that after getting rid of what he had eaten he
covered it with some chips. When he had gone back to his companions at
the table some of them went out, scraped away the chips, and found the
silver bullet. Lossing says he (the Tory) succeeded in swallowing it a
second time and refused to take another emetic until Governor Clinton
threatened to hang him upon a tree and have his stomach searched with
a surgeon's knife. At that he yielded, and the bullet presently again
appeared.
"It was a curiously wrought, hollow sphere, with a compound screw in
the centre; inside of it was a note from Sir Henry Clinton to General
Burgoyne, written from Fort Montgomery, telling of their success, and
expressing the hope that it might facilitate his (Burgoyne's)
operations.
"This made the guilt of the prisoner very clear. He was not allowed to
escape, and when, soon afterward, Governor Clinton marched with his
troops to the help of the people of Esopus, or Kingston, he took the
spy with him; and at Hurley, a few miles from Kingston, they tried,
condemned the spy, and hung him on an apple tree near the old church.
The British had reached Kingston first, and it was then in flames."
"Oh, what a dreadful thing war is!" sighed Grace. "So many people are
killed, and so many others robbed of everything but life."
"It is, indeed, an awful thing," assented Grandma Elsie. "May we of
this land never again know anything of its horrors by experience."