NEW YORK TO ALBANY. (continued 3)

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,[page 133] 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[page 134] 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."

How strange it seems in these brief years since 1880 to read of "Trinity Church steeple standing alone above the flood" as the rising tide of New York skyscrapers has long since overtopped the old landmark and is sweeping higher and higher day by day.

The Frothingham residence and Frothingham dock are south of the Burroughs cottage. The late General Butterfield's house immediately to the north. The old Astor place (once known as Waldorf), is also near at hand. In our analysis of the Hudson we refer to the hills above and below Poughkeepsie as "The Picturesque." Any one walking or driving from Highland Village to West Park will feel that this is a proper distinction. The Palisades are distinguished for "grandeur" which might be defined as "horizontal sublimity." The Highlands for "sublimity" which might be termed "perpendicular grandeur;" the Catskills for "beauty," with their rounded form and ever changing hues, but the river scenery about Poughkeepsie abides in our memories as a series of bright and charming "pictures." North of Waldorf is Pelham, consisting of 1,200 acres, one of the largest fruit farms in the world. Passing Esopus Island, which seems like a great stranded and petrified whale, along whose sides often cluster Lilliputian-like canoeists, we see Brown's Dock on the west bank at the mouth of Black Creek, which rises eight miles from Newburgh on the eastern slope of the Plaaterkill Mountains. Flowing through Black Pond, known by the Dutch settlers as the "Grote Binnewater," it cascades its way along the southern slope of the Shaupeneak Mountains to Esopus Village, a cross-road[page 135] hamlet, and thence carries to the Hudson its waters dark-stained by companionship with trees of hemlock and cedar growth. The Pell property extends on the west bank to Pell's Dock, almost opposite the Staatsburgh ice houses. Mrs. Livingston's residence will now be seen on the east bank, and just above this the home of the late William B. Dinsmore on Dinsmore Point. Passing Vanderberg Cove, cut off from the river by the tracks of the New York Central Railroad, we see the residence of Jacob Ruppert, and above this the Frinck mansion known as "Windercliffe," formerly the property of E. R. Jones, and next beyond the house of Robert Suckly. Passing Ellerslie Dock we see "Ellerslie," the palatial summer home of ex-Vice-President Levi P. Morton, an estate of six hundred acres, formerly owned by the Hon. William Kelly. Along the western bank extend the Esopus meadows, a low flat, covered by water, the southern end of which is marked by the Esopus light-house. To the west rises Hussey's Mountain, about one thousand feet in height, from under whose eastern slope two little ponds, known as Binnewaters, send another stream to join Black Creek before it flows into the Hudson. Port Ewen on the west bank, with ice houses and brick yards, will be seen by steamer passengers below the mouth of Rondout Creek.

Rhinecliff, 90 miles from New York. The village of Rhinebeck, two miles east of the landing, is not seen from the river. It was named, as some contend, by combining two words—Beekman and Rhine. Others say that the word beck means cliff, and the town was so named from the resemblance of the cliffs to those of the Rhine. There are many delightful drives in and about Rhinebeck, "Ellerslie" being only about eight minutes by carriage from the landing.

The Philadelphia & Reading Rhinebeck Branch meets the Hudson at Rhinecliff, and makes a pleasant and convenient tourist or business route between the Hudson and the Connecticut. It passes through a delightful country[page 136] and thriving rural villages. Some of the views along the Roeliffe Jansen's Kill are unrivaled in quiet beauty. The railroad passes through Rhinebeck, Red Hook, Spring Lake, Ellerslie, Jackson Corners, Mount Ross, Gallatinville, Ancram, Copake, Boston Corners, and Mount Riga to State Line Junction, and gives a person a good idea of the counties of Dutchess and Columbia. At Boston Corners connection is made with the Harlem Railroad.

From State Line Junction it passes through Ore Hill, Lakeville with its beautiful lake (an evening view of which is still hung in our memory gallery of sunset sketches), Salisbury, Chapinville, and Twin Lakes to Canaan, where the line crosses the Housatonic Railroad. This route, therefore, is the easiest and pleasantest for Housatonic visitors en route to the Catskills. From Canaan the road rises by easy grade to the summit, at an elevation of 1,400 feet, passing through the village of Norfolk, with its picturesque New England church crowning the village hill, and thence to Simsbury and Hartford.

The City of Kingston.—Rondout and Kingston gradually grew together until the bans were performed in 1878, and a "bow-knot" tied at the top of the hill in the shape of a city hall, making them one corporation.

The name Rondout had its derivation from a redoubt that was built on the banks of the creek. The creek took the name of Redoubt Kill, afterward Rundoubt, and at last Rondout. Kingston was once called Esopus. (The Indian name for the spot where the city now stands was At-kar-karton, the great plot or meadow on which they raised corn or beans.)

Kingston and Rondout were both settled in 1614, and old Kingston, known by the Dutch as Wiltwyck, was thrice destroyed by the Indians before the Revolution. In 1777 the State legislature met here and formed a constitution. In the fall of the same year, after the capture of Fort Montgomery and Fort Clinton by the British, Vaughan landed at Rondout, marched to Kingston, and[page 137] burned the town. While Kingston was burning, the inhabitants fled to Hurley, where a small force of Americans hung a messenger who was caught carrying dispatches from Clinton to Burgoyne.

Rondout is the termination of the Delaware and Hudson Canal (whence canal boats of coal find their way from the Pennsylvania Mountains to tidewater), also of the Ulster and Delaware Railroad, by which people find their way from tidewater to the Catskill Mountains, which have greeted the eye of the tourist for many miles down the Hudson. Originally all of the country-side in this vicinity was known as Esopus, supposed to be derived, according to Ruttenber, from the Indian word "seepus," a river. A "sopus Indian" was a Lowlander, and the name is intimately connected with a long reach of territory from Esopus Village, near West Park, to the mouth of the Esopus at Saugerties. In 1675 the mouth of the Rondout Creek was chosen by the New Netherland Company as one of the three fortified trading ports on the Hudson; a stockade was built under the guidance of General Stuyvesant in 1661 inclosing the site of old Kingston; a charter was granted in 1658 under the name of Wiltwyck, but changed in 1679 to Kingston. Few cities are so well off for old-time houses that span the century, and there is no congregation probably in the United States that has worshipped so many consecutive years in the same spot as the Dutch Reformed people of Kingston. Five buildings have succeeded the log church of 240 years ago. Dr. Van Slyke, in a recent welcome, said: "This church, which opens her doors to you, claims a distinction which does not belong even to the Collegiate Dutch Churches of Manhattan Island, and, by a peculiar history, stands identified more closely with Holland than any other of the early churches of this country. When every other church of our communion had for a long time been associated with an American Synod, this church retained its relations to the Classis of Amsterdam, and, after a period[page 138] of independency and isolation, it finally allied itself with its American sisterhood as late as the year 1808. We still have three or four members whose life began before that date."

Dominie Blom was the first preacher in Kingston. The church where he preached and the congregation that gathered to hear him have been tenderly referred to by the Rev. Dr. Belcher:

The Senate House, built in 1676 by Wessel Ten Broeck, who would seem by his name to have stepped bodily out of a chapter of Knickerbocker, was "burned" but not "down," for its walls stood firm. It was afterwards repaired, and sheltered many dwellers, among others, General Armstrong, secretary of war under President Madison. The Provincial Convention met in the court house at Kingston in 1777 and the Constitution was formally announced April 22d of that year. The first court was held here September 9th and the first legislature September 10th. Adjourning October 7th, they convened again August 18th, 1779, and in 1780, from April 22d to July 2d, also for two months beginning January 27, 1783.

It was in the yard in front of the court house that the Constitution of the State was proclaimed by Robert Berrian, the secretary of the Constitutional Convention, and it was there that George Clinton, the first Governor of the State, was inaugurated and took the oath of office. It was in the court house that John Jay, chief justice, delivered his memorable charge to the grand jury in[page 139] September, 1777, and at the opening said: "Gentlemen, it affords me very sensible pleasure to congratulate you on the dawn of that free, mild, and equal government which now begins to rise and break from amidst the clouds of anarchy, confusion and licentiousness, which the arbitrary and violent domination of the King of Great Britain has spread, in greater or less degree, throughout this and other American states. And it gives me particular satisfaction to remark that the first fruits of our excellent Constitution appear in a part of this State whose inhabitants have distinguished themselves by having unanimously endeavored to deserve them." The court house bell was originally imported from Holland.

The burning of Kingston seemed unnecessarily cruel, and it is said that Vaughan was wide of the truth when, to justify the same, he claimed that he had been fired upon from dwellings in the village. General Sharpe in his address before the Holland Society says: "The history of this county begins to be interesting at the earliest stages of American history: Visited by Dutchmen in 1614, and again in 1620, it was in the very earliest Colonial history, one of the strong places of the Province of New York. The British museum contains the report of the Rev. John Miller, written in the year 1695, who, after 'having been nearly three years resident in the Province of New York, in America, as chaplain of His Majesty's forces there, and constantly attending the Governor, had opportunity of observing many things of considerable consequence in relation to the Christians and Indians, and had also taken the drafts of all the cities, towns, forts and churches of any note within the same.' These are his own words, and he adds that in the Province of New York 'the places of strength are chiefly three, the city of New York, the city of Albany, and the town of Kingstone, in Ulster.' The east, north and west fronts ran along elevations overlooking the lowlands and having a varying altitude of from twenty to thirty feet. The[page 140] enclosure comprehended about twenty-five acres of land. There were salients, or horn works at each end of the four angles, with a circular projection at the middle of the westerly side, where the elevation was less than upon the northerly and easterly sides. The church standing upon the ground where we now are, was enclosed with a separate stockade, to be used as the last resort in case of disaster, and, projecting from this separate fortification, a strong block-house commanded and enfiladed the approaches to the southerly side, which was a plain. The local history is of continued and dramatic interest. The Indian wars were signalized by a great uprising and attack here, which was known as the war of 1663, when a considerable number of the inhabitants were killed, a still larger number were taken prisoners, and about one-fourth of the houses were burned to the ground. Reinforcements were sent by the governor-general from New Amsterdam, followed by his personal presence, when the Indians were driven back to the mountains, and, after a tedious campaign, their fields destroyed and the prisoners recaptured. When the next great crisis in our history came Kingston bore a conspicuous part. It was the scene of the formation of the State Government. The Constitution was here discussed and adopted. George Clinton was called from the Highlands, where, as a brigadier-general of the Continental army, he was commanding all the forces upon the Hudson River, which were opposing the attempts of Sir Henry Clinton to reach the northern part of the State and relieve Burgoyne, hemmed in by Gates at Saratoga. He was the ideal war governor—unbuckling his sword in the court room, that he might take the oath of office, and returning, immediately after the simple form of his inauguration, to his command upon the Hudson River.

"The court house, standing opposite to us, and rebuilt upon its old foundations, and occupying, substantially, the same superficies of ground with its predecessors, recalls[page 141] the dramatic scene where, surrounded by the council of safety, and in a square formed by two companies of soldiers, he was proclaimed Governor by Egbert Dumond, the sheriff of the county, reading his proclamation from the top of a barrel, and closing it with the words 'God save the people,' for the first time taking the place of 'God save the King.' The only building in any way connected with the civil foundation of this great State is still standing, and presents the same appearance that it did at the time of its erection, prior to the year 1690. It was subsequently occupied by General Armstrong, who, while residing here for the better education of his children, in Kingston Academy, was appointed minister to France. Aaron Burr, then in attendance upon court, spent an evening with General Armstrong, at his house, and, having observed the merit of sundry sketches, made inquiry with regard to, and interested himself in the fate of John Vanderlyn, who afterwards painted the Landing of Columbus in the Capitol, and Marius upon the Ruins of Carthage—which attracted the attention of the elder Napoleon, and established Vanderlyn's fame. There are more than forty blue limestone houses of the general type found in Holland, still standing to-day, which were built before the revolutionary period, and many of them before the year 1700."

Coal, cement and blue-stone are the prominent industries of the city. The cement works yield several million dollars annually and employ about two thousand men. A million tons of coal enter the Hudson via the Port of Rondout from the Wyoming Valley of Pennsylvania every year. Blue-stone also meets tide-water at this point, brought in from quarries throughout the country by rail or by truck. The city of Kingston, the largest station on the West Shore between Weehawken and Albany, has admirable railroad facilities connecting with the Erie Railway at Goshen via the Wallkill Valley, and the Catskills via the Ulster & Delaware. All roads centre[page 142] at the Union Station and the Ulster & Delaware connects at Kingston Point with the Hudson River Day Line, also with the New York Central by ferry from Rhinebeck.

To the Catskills.—The two principal routes to the Catskills are via Kingston and the Ulster & Delaware Railroad, and via Catskill Landing, the Catskill Mountain Railway and Otis Elevating Railway to the summit of the mountains. It has occurred to the writer to divide the mountain section in two parts:

The Southern Catskills.—Kingston Point, where the steamer lands is indeed a picturesque portal to a picturesque journey. The beautiful park at the landing presents the most beautiful frontage of any pleasure ground along the river. Artistic pagodas located at effective points add greatly to the natural landscape effect, and excursionists via Day Line from Albany have a delightful spot for lunch and recreation while waiting for the return steamer. In the busy months of mountain travel it is interesting to note the rush and hurry between the landing of the steamer and the departure of the train. The "all aboard" is given, and as we stand on the rear platform a friend points north to a bluff near Kingston Point and says the Indian name is "Ponckhockie"—signifying a burial ground. The old redoubts of Kingston, on the left, were defenses used in early days against the Indians.

After leaving Kingston Union Depot, the most important station on the West Shore Railroad, and the terminus of the Wallkill Valley Railroad, we pass through Stony Hollow, eight miles from Rondout, where the traveler will note the stone tracks in the turnpike below, on the right side of the car, used by quarry wagons. Crossing the Stony Hollow ravine, we reach West Hurley, nine miles from Rondout and 540 feet above the sea.

The Overlook commands an extensive view,—with an area of 30,000 square miles, from the peaks of New Hampshire and the Green Mountains of Vermont to the hills of New Jersey and Pennsylvania. To the east the[page 143] valley reaches away with its towns and villages to the blue hills of Massachusetts and Connecticut, and, through this beautiful valley, the Hudson for a hundred miles is reduced to a mere ribbon of light. Woodstock, at the foot of the Overlook, is popular with summer visitors, and is a good starting point for the mountain outlook.

Olive Branch is the pretty name of the station above West Hurley. Temple Pond, at the foot of Big Toinge Mountain, covers about one hundred acres, and affords boating and fishing to those visiting the foothills of the Southern Catskills.

Brown's Station is three miles beyond, and near at hand Winchell's Falls on the Esopus. The Esopus Creek comes in view near this station for the first time after leaving Kingston. The route now has pleasant companionship for twenty miles or more with the winding stream.

Brodhead's Bridge is delightfully located on its wooded banks near the base of High Point, and near at hand is a bright cascade known as Bridal Veil Falls.

Shokan, 18 miles from Rondout. Here the road takes a northerly course and we are advised by Mr. Van Loan's guide to notice on the left "a group of five mountains forming a crescent; the peaks of these mountains are four miles distant;" the right-hand one is the "Wittenberg," and the next "Mount Cornell." Boiceville and Mount Pleasant, 700 feet above the Hudson, are next reached. We enter the beautiful Shandaken Valley, and three miles of charming mountain scenery bring us to—

Phœnicia, 29 miles from Rondout and 790 feet above the Hudson. This is one of the central points of the Catskills which the mountain streams (nature's engineers), indicated several thousand years ago. Readers of "Hiawatha" will remember that Gitche Manitou, the mighty, traced with his finger the way the streams and rivers should run. The tourist will be apt to think that he used his thumb in marking out the wild grandeur of Stony Clove. The Tremper House has a picturesque location[page 144] in a charming valley, which seems to have been cut to fit, like a beautiful carpet, and tacked down to the edge of these grand old mountains. A fifteen minutes' walk up Mount Tremper gives a wide view, from which the Lake Mohonk House is sometimes seen, forty miles away. Phœnicia is one of the most important stations on the line—the southern terminus of the Stony Clove and Catskill Mountain division of the Ulster & Delaware system. Keeping to the main line for the present we pass through Allaben, formerly known as Fox Hollow, and come to—

Shandaken, 35 miles from Rondout and 1,060 feet in altitude, an Indian name signifying "rapid water." Here are large hotels and many boarding houses and the town is a central point for many mountain spots and shady retreats in every direction—all of which are well described in one of the handsomest summer resort guides of the season, the handbook of the Ulster & Delaware Railroad. Three miles beyond Shandaken we come to a little station whose name reminds one of the plains: Big Indian, 1,209 feet above the river.

Big Indian.—It is said that about a century ago, a noble red man dwelt in these parts, who, early in life, turned his attention to agriculture instead of scalping, and won thereby the respect of the community. Tradition has it that he was about seven feet in height, but was overpowered by wolves, and was buried by his brethren not far from the station, where a "big Indian" was carved out of a tree near by for his monument. An old and reliable inhabitant stated that he remembered the rude statue well, and often thought that it ought to be saved for a relic, as the stream was washing away the roots; but it was finally carried down by a freshet, and probably found its way to some fire-place in the Esopus Valley. "So man passes away, as with a flood." There is another tale, one of love but less romantic, wherein he was killed by his rival and placed upright in a hollow[page 145] tree. Perhaps neither tradition is true, and quite possibly the Big Indian name grew out of some misunderstanding between the Indians and white settlers over a hundred years ago. As the train leaves the station it begins a grade of 150 feet per mile to—

Pine Hill, a station perched on the slope of Belle Ayr Mountain. This is the watershed between the Esopus and the Delaware, and 226 feet above us, around the arcs of a double horseshoe, is the railway summit, 1,886 feet above the tide.

Grand Hotel Station.—The New Grand, the second largest hotel in the Catskills, with a frontage of 700 feet, stands on a commanding terrace less than half a mile from the station. The main building faces southwest and overlooks the hamlet of Pine Hill, down the Shandaken Valley to Big Indian. The mountains, "grouped like giant kings" in the distance are Slide Mountain, Panther Mountain, Table and Balsam Mountains. Panther Mountain, directly over Big Indian Station, with Atlas-like shoulders, being nearer, seems higher, and is often mistaken for Slide Mountain. Table Mountain, to the right of the Slide, is the divide between the east branch of the Neversink and the Rondout.

Continuing our journey from the summit we pass through Fleischmann's to—

Arkville, railway station for Margaretville, one and a half miles distant, and Andes twelve miles—connected by stages. Furlough Lake, the mountain home of George Gould, is seven miles from Arkville. An artificial cave near Arkville, with hieroglyphics on the inner walls, attracts many visitors. Passing through Kelly's Corners and Halcottville, we come to—

Roxbury (altitude 1,497 feet), a quaint old village at the upper end of which is the Gould Memorial Church. Miss Helen Gould spends part of her summer here and has done much to make beautiful the village of her father's boyhood. Grand Gorge comes next 1,570 feet above the[page 146] tide, where stages are taken for Gilboa three miles, and Prattsville five miles distant, on the Schoharie Creek. Pratt's Rocks are visited by hundreds because of the carving in bas-relief of Colonel Pratt and figures emblematic of his career.

Stamford is now at hand, seventy-six miles from the Hudson, about 1,800 feet above the sea, named by settlers from Stamford, Conn. Here are many large hotels, chief among them The Rexmere and Churchill Hall. Thirteen miles from Stamford we come to Hobart, four miles further to South Kortright, and then to—

Bloomville, eighty-nine miles from the Hudson, where a stage line of eight miles takes the traveler to Delhi. Passing through Kortright, ninety-two miles from the Hudson, 1,868 feet above the tide, East Meredith, Davenport, West Davenport (where passengers en route for Cooperstown and Richfield Springs are transferred to the Cooperstown and Charlotte Valley R. R.,) and four miles bring us to

Oneonta, on the Susquehanna division of the Hudson & Delaware R. R., Returning to Phœnicia we take train through "Stony Clove Notch," passing Chichester, Lanesville, Edgewood and Kaaterskill Junction to—

Hunter, terminus of the Stony Clove Road. Resuming the eastward journey at Kaaterskill Junction we come to—

Tannersville, near which are Elka Park, Onteora Park and Schoharie Manor.

Haines Corners is another busy station, at the head of Kaaterskill Clove. On the slope of Mt. Lincoln have also been established "Twilight," "Santa Cruz" and "Sunset" Parks.

Laurel House Station.—Here the voice of a waterfall invites the tourist to one of the most famous spots in the Catskill region and a mile beyond is

Kaaterskill Station, 2,145 feet above the sea, the highest point reached by any railroad in the State, and half a mile or so further we alight on a rocky balcony, known for its beautiful view all over the world.

[page 147]

Kingston to Catskill.

Rhinecliff, with its historic Beekman stone house, is on the east bank of the river opposite Kingston. The old mansion, on the hillside, above the landing, was built before 1700 by William Beekman, first patroon of this section. It was used as a church and as a fort during the Indian struggles and still preserves the scar of a cannon ball from a British ship.

Ferncliff, a mile north of the Beekman House, is the home of John Jacob Astor, formerly the property of William Astor, and above this

Clifton Point, once known as the Garretson place, the noted Methodist preacher whose wife was sister of Chancellor Livingston, and above this Douglas Merritt's home known as "Leacote." Flatbush landing lies on the west bank opposite Ferncliff.

One might almost imagine from the names of places and individuals here grouped on both banks of the river, that this reach of the Hudson was a bit of old Scotland: Montgomery Place and Annandale with its Livingstons, Donaldsons and Kidds on the east side, and Glenerie, Glasgo and Lake Katrine on the west.

Barrytown is just above "Daisy Island," on the east bank, 96 miles from New York. It is said when General Jackson was President, and this village wanted a postoffice, that he would not allow it under the name of Barrytown, from personal dislike to General Barry, and suggested another name; but the people were loyal to their old friend, and went without a postoffice until a new administration. The name of Barrytown, therefore, stands as a monument to pluck. The place was once known as Lower Red Hook Landing. Passing "Massena," the Aspinwall property, we see—

Montgomery Place, residence of Carleton Hunt and sisters, about one-half mile north of Barrytown, formerly[page 148] occupied by Mrs. Montgomery, wife of General Montgomery and sister of Chancellor Livingston. The following dramatic incident connected with Montgomery Place is recorded in Stone's "History of New York City": "In 1818 the legislature of New York—DeWitt Clinton, Governor—ordered the remains of General Montgomery to be removed from Canada to New York. This was in accordance with the wishes of the Continental Congress, which, in 1776, had voted the beautiful cenotaph to his memory that now stands in the wall of St. Paul's Church, fronting Broadway. When the funeral cortege reached Whitehall, N. Y., the fleet stationed there received them with appropriate honors; and on the 4th of July they arrived in Albany. After lying in state in that city over Sunday, the remains were taken to New York, and on Wednesday deposited, with military honors, in their final resting place, at St. Paul's. Governor Clinton had informed Mrs. Montgomery of the hour when the steamer 'Richmond,' conveying the body, would pass her home. At her own request, she stood alone on the portico. It was forty years since she had parted from her husband, to whom she had been wedded but two years when he fell on the heights of Quebec; yet she had remained faithful to the memory of her 'soldier,' as she always called him. The steamboat halted before the mansion; the band played the 'Dead March,' and a salute was fired; and the ashes of the venerated hero, and the departed husband, passed on. The attendants of the Spartan widow now appeared, but, overcome by the tender emotions of the moment, she had swooned and fallen to the floor."

The Sawkill Creek flows through a beautiful ravine in Montgomery grounds and above this is the St. Stephen's College and Preparatory School of the Episcopal Church in the Diocese of New York. Beyond and above this are Mrs. E. Bartlett's home and Deveaux Park, afterwards Almonte, the property of Col. Charles Livingston. We are now approaching—

[page 149]

Cruger's Island, with its indented South Bay reaching up toward the bluff crowned by Montgomery Place. There is an old Indian tradition that no person ever died on this island, which a resident recently said still held true. It is remarkable, moreover, in possessing many antique carved stones from a city of Central America built into the walls of a temple modeled after the building from which the graven stones were brought. The "ruin" at the south end of the island is barely visible from the steamer, hidden as it is by foliage, but it is distinctly seen by New York Central travelers in the winter season. Colonel Cruger has spared no expense in the adornment of his grounds, and a beautiful drive is afforded the visitor. The island is connected by a roadway across a tongue of land which separates the North from the South Bay. Above this island east of the steamer's channel across the railway of the New York Central, we see a historic bit of water known as—

The North Bay. It was here that Robert Fulton developed his steamboat invention, receiving pecuniary aid from Chancellor Livingston, and it is fitting to give at this place a concise account of

Steam Navigation, which after many attempts and failures on both sides of the Atlantic was at last crowned with success on the Hudson.

John Fitch first entertained his idea of a steamboat in 1785, and sent to the general assembly of the State of Pennsylvania a model in 1786. New Jersey and Delaware in 1787, gave him exclusive right to navigate their waters for fourteen years, which, however, was never undertaken. His steamboat "Perseverance," on the Delaware in 1787, was eighteen feet in length and six feet beam. The name, however, was a misnomer, as it was abandoned. These facts appear by papers on file in the State Library at Albany. After his experiment on the Delaware, he traveled through France and England, but not meeting with the encouragement that he expected,[page 150] became poor and returned home, working his passage as a common sailor. In 1797 he constructed a little boat which was propelled by steam in the old Collect Pond, New York, below Canal Street, between Broadway and the East River.

According to records in the State Library, the steam was sufficiently high to propel the boat once, twice, or thrice around the pond. "When more water being introduced into the boiler or pot and steam was generated, she was again ready to start on another expedition." The boat was a yawl about eighteen feet in length and six feet beam. She was started at the buoy with a small oar when the propeller was used. The boiler was a ten or twelve gallon iron pot. This boat with a portion of the machinery was abandoned by Fitch, and left to decay on the muddy shore. Shortly after this he died in Kentucky in 1798. Had he lived, or, had the fortune like Fulton, to find such a patron as Livingston, his success might have been assured. His visit to Europe may have inspired Symington's experiment on Dalswinton Loch in 1788, which made five miles an hour, and another steamboat on the Forth of Clyde which made seven miles an hour in 1789, and the "Charlotte Dundas" in 1802, which drew a load of seventy tons over three miles against a strong gale. Something, however, was wanting and the idea of successful navigation was abandoned in Britain till after the invention of Robert Fulton which made steam navigation an assured fact.

"How necessary it is to succeed," said Kosciusko, at the grave of Washington, and this is also as true in the story of invention as in the struggle for freedom: "That they never fail who die in a great cause though years elapse, and others share as dark a doom. They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts which overpower all others and conduct the world at last to fortune."

It was the writer's privilege in 1891, to deliver the unveiling address of a monument to Symington at his[page 151] birthplace, Lead Hills, Scotland. In the tribute then paid to the genius of the great Scotchman who had done so much for invention in many directions, he said the difference between Symington and Fulton was this: "Each worked diligently at the same idea, but it was the good fortune of Fulton, so far as the steamboat was considered, to make his 'invention' 'go.'"

To quote from a British writer, the "Comet" of Henry Bell on the Clyde in 1812, was the first example of a steamboat brought into serviceable use within European waters, and the writer incidentally added that steam navigation in Britain took practical form almost on the spot where James Watt, the illustrious improver of the steam engine was born. The word "improver" is well put. It has much to do with the story of many inventions. The labor of Fitch was far-reaching in many directions, and it detracts nothing from Fulton's fame that the experiments of Fitch and Symington preceded his final triumph.

Rumsey's claim to the idea of application of steam in 1785 does not seem to hold good. General Washington, to whom he referred as to a conversation in 1785, replied to a correspondent that the idea of Rumsey, as he remembered and understood it, was simply the propelling of a boat by a machine, the power of which was to be merely manual labor.

Robert Fulton was born in 1765, and at the time of Symington's experiment in Scotland, was twenty-three years of age. He was then an artist student of Benjamin West, in London, but, after several years of study, felt that he was better adapted for engineering, and soon thereafter wrote a work on canal navigation. In 1797 he went to Paris. He resided there seven years and built a small steamboat on the Seine, which worked well, but made very slow progress.

It is remarkable that the two most practical achievements of our century have been consummated by artists,—[page 152] the telegraph by Morse after a score of "invented" failures, and the successful application of steam to navigation by Fulton.

Soon after his return to New York he brought his idea to successful completion. His reputation was now assured, and his invention of "torpedoes" gave him additional fame. Congress not only purchased these instruments of warfare, but also set apart $320,000 for a steam frigate to be constructed under his supervision.

Through Livingston's influence the legislature passed an act granting to Fulton the exclusive privilege of navigating the waters of the State by means of steam power. The only conditions imposed were that he should, within a year, construct a boat of not less than "twenty tons burthen," which should navigate the Hudson at a speed not less than four miles an hour, and that one such boat should not fail of running regularly between New York and Albany for the space of one year.

"The Clermont," named after the ancestral home of the Livingstons, was built for "Livingston and Fulton," by Charles Brownne in New York. The machinery came from the works of Watt and Bolton, England. She left the wharf of Corlear's Hook and the newspapers published with pride that she made in speed from four to five miles an hour. She was 100 feet in length and boasted of "three elegant cabins, one for the ladies and two for the gentlemen, with kitchen, library, and every convenience." She averaged 100 passengers up or down the river. Every passenger paid $7, for which he had dinner, tea and bed, breakfast and dinner, with the liberty to carry 200 pounds of baggage.

An original letter from Robert Fulton to the minister of Bavaria at the court of France, written in 1809, upon the question of putting steamboats on the Danube, is of interest at the present day: "The distance from New York to Albany is 160 miles; the tide rises as far as Albany; its velocity is on an average 1 ½ miles an hour.

[page 153]

We thus have the tide half the time in favor of the boat and half the time against her. The boat is 100 feet long, 16 feet wide and 7 feet deep; the steam engine is of the power of 20 horses; she runs 4 ½ miles an hour in still water. Consequently when the tide is 1 ½ miles an hour in her favor she runs 5 ¾ miles an hour. When the tide is against her she runs 2 ¾ miles an hour. Thus in theory her average velocity is 4 ¼ miles an hour, but in practice we take advantage of the currents. When they are against us we keep near shore in the eddies, where the current is weak or the eddy in our favor; when the tide is in our favor we take the centre of the stream and draw every advantage from it. In this way our average speed is 5 miles an hour, and we run to Albany, 160 miles, in about 32 hours." Previous to the invention of the steamboat there were two modes of conveyance. One was by the common sloops; they charged 42 francs, and were on the average four days in making the passage—they have sometimes been as long as eight days. The dread of such tedious voyages prevented great numbers of persons from going in sloops. The second mode of conveyance was the mail, or stage. They charged $8, or 44 francs, and the expenses on the road were about $5, or 30 francs, so that expenses amounted to $13. The time required was 48 hours. The steamboat has rendered the communication between New York and Albany so cheap and certain that the number of passengers are rapidly increasing. Persons who live 150 miles beyond Albany know the hour she will leave that city, and making their calculations to arrive at York, stay two days to transact business, return with the boat, and are with their families in one week. The facility has rendered the boat a great favorite with the public.

A telegram from Exeter, N. H., in 1886, recorded the death of Dr. William Perry, the oldest person in Exeter and the oldest graduate of Harvard College, at the age of ninety-eight years. He was the sole survivor of the[page 154] passengers on Fulton's first steamboat on its first trip down the Hudson, and the connecting link of three generations of progress. He was born in 1788, was a member of 1811 in Harvard, and grandfather of Sarah Orne Jewett, the authoress.

The writer remembers his grandfather telling him of going to Hudson as a boy to see the "steamboat" make its first trip, and how it had been talked of for a long time as "Fulton's Folly." One thing is sure it was a small cradle wherein to rock the "baby-giant" of a great century. How Fulton would wonder if he could visit to-day the great steamships born of his invention—successors of the "Clermont" of "Twenty tons burthen." How he would marvel, standing on the deck of the "Hendrick Hudson," to see the water fall away from the prow cut by a rainbow scimitar of spray! at the great engines of polished steel, working almost noiselessly, and wonder at the way the pilot lands at the docks, even as a driver brings his buggy to a horse-block; for in his day, and long afterwards, passengers were "slued" ashore in little boats, as it was not regarded feasible to land a steamboat against a wharf. It would surely be an "experience" for us to see the passengers at West Point, Newburgh, or Poughkeepsie "slued ashore" to-day in little rowboats.

Tivoli, above North Bay took its name from a pre-revolutionary "Chateau," home of the late Colonel DePeyster. The "Callender Place" to the southeast, was formerly the property of Johnston Livingston. Two miles from the river is the home of Mr. J. N. Lewis, a morning view from whose veranda is still remembered, and it is to him that the writer is indebted for a pleasant trip to the ruins on Cruger's Island. The residence of the late J. Watts DePeyster stands on a commanding bluff north of the railway station and it was beside his open fireside many years ago that he told the writer how his house was saved from Vaughan's cannon. "Rose Hill," was[page 155] mistaken for "Clermont," but a well-stocked cellar mollified the British captain.

It grew like one of the old English family houses, with the increase of the family, until, in strange but picturesque outline—the prevailing style being Italian, somewhat in the shape of a cross—it is now 114 feet long by 87 feet deep. The tower in the rear, devoted to library purposes, rises to the height of about sixty feet. This library, first and last, has contained between twenty and thirty thousand volumes. Such indefinite language is used, because the owner donated over half this number to the New York Historical Society, the New York Society Library, and a number of other similar organizations in different parts of the United States. As a working library, replete with dictionaries and cyclopædias, in many tongues and on almost every subject, it is a marvel. It is likewise very valuable for its collections on military and several other special topics. From it was selected and given to the New York Historical Society, one of the finest possible collections on the History of Holland, from the earliest period down to the present time. "Rose Hill" was left in his will to the Leake and Watts Orphan Home.

A ferry from Tivoli to Saugerties affords communication between the two villages. Glasco Landing, on the west bank, lies between the residences of Henry Corse, on the south, and Mrs. Vanderpool (sister of the late President Martin Van Buren), on the north.

In locating the residences along the river and dealing so often in the words "north" and "south," we are reminded of a good story of Martin Van Buren. It is said that it was as difficult to get a direct answer from him as from Bismarck or Gladstone. Two friends were going up with him one day on a river boat and one made a wager with the other that a direct answer could not be secured on any question from the astute statesman. They approached the ex-president and one of them[page 156] said, "Mr. Van Buren, my friend and I have had a little discussion; will you tell us, does or does not the sun rise in the east?" The ex-president calmly drew up a chair, and said, "You must remember that the east and west are merely relative terms." "That settles it," said the questioner, "I'll pay the bet."

Saugerties, 101 miles from New York. From its location (being the nearest of the river towns to the Catskills), it naturally hoped to secure a large share of tourist travel, but Kingston and Catskill presented easier and better facilities of access and materially shortened the hours of arrival at the summit. Plaaterkill Clove, wilder and grander than Kaaterskill Clove, about nine miles west of the village, has Plaaterkill Mountain, Indian Head, Twin Mountains and Sugar Loaf on the south, and High Peak and Round Top on the north. Its eighteen waterfalls not only give great variety to a pedestrian trip, but also ample field for the artist's brush. The Esopus, meeting the Hudson at Saugerties, supplies unfailing waterpower for its manufacturing industries, prominent among which are the Sheffield Paper Company, the Barkley Fibre Company (wood pulp), the Martin Company (card board) and a white lead factory. There are also large shipments of blue stone, evidences of which are seen in many places near at hand along the western bank. Many attractive strolls near Saugerties invite the visitor, notably the walk to Barkley Heights south of the Esopus. An extensive view is obtained from the West Shore Railroad station west of the village and the drive thereto. North of Saugerties will be seen the docks and hamlets of Malden, Evesport and West Camp, also the residences of J. G. Myers to the northwest of the Rock islet, and of H. T. Coswell, near which the steamer passes to the west of Livingston Flats. The west shore at West Camp was settled by exiles from the Palatinate, about 1710, and one of the old churches still stands a short distance inland. We are now in the midst of—

[page 157]

The Livingston Country, whose names and memories dot the landscape and adorn the history of the Hudson Valley. Dutchess and Columbia Counties meet on the east bank opposite that part of Saugerties where Sawyer's Creek flows into the Hudson. "Idele" was originally called the Chancellor Place. "Clermont" is about half a mile to the north, the home of Clermont Livingston, an early manor house built by Robert R. Livingston, who, next to Hamilton, was the greatest New York statesman during our revolutionary period. The manor church, not seen from the river, is at the old village of Clermont, about five miles due west from the mansion. The Livingstons are of Scotch ancestry and have an illustrious lineage. Mary Livingston, one of the "four Marys" who attended Mary Queen of Scots during her childhood and education in France, was of the same family. Robert Livingston, born in 1654, came to the Hudson Valley with his father, and in 1686 purchased from the Indians a tract of country reaching east twenty-two miles to the boundary of Massachusetts with a river frontage of twelve miles. This purchase was created, "the Lordship and Manor of Livingston," by Governor Thomas Dongan. In 1692 Robert built the manor house, but did not reside in it for twenty years. He was a friend of Captain Kidd and a powerful promoter of his enterprises. The manor consisted of 260,000 acres. The estate of 13,000 acres, given to his second son Robert, was called Clermont. Philip, his first son, inherited 247,000 acres, by old-time primogeniture succession. From each of these two families sprang a line of vigorous and resolute men. Robert R. Livingston, our revolutionary hero, descended from the smaller estate, owned "Clermont" at the time it was burned by the British. It was soon rebuilt and Lafayette was a guest at the mansion during his visit to the United States in 1824.

Above West Camp landing on the west side, is the boundary line between Ulster and Greene Counties; Ulster[page 158] having kept us company all the way from Hampton Point opposite New Hamburgh. Throughout this long stretch of the river one industry must not be overlooked, well described by John Burroughs:

The Shad Industry.—"When the chill of the ice is out of the river and the snow and frost out of the air, the fishermen along the shore are on the lookout for the first arrival of shad. A few days of warm south wind the latter part of April will soon blow them up; it is true also, that a cold north wind will as quickly blow them back. Preparations have been making for them all winter. In many a farm-house or other humble dwelling along the river, the ancient occupation of knitting of fish-nets has been plied through the long winter evenings, perhaps every grown member of the household, the mother and her daughters as well as the father and his sons, lending a hand. The ordinary gill or drift-net used for shad fishing in the Hudson is from a half to three-quarters of a mile long, and thirty feet wide, containing about fifty or sixty pounds of fine linen twine, and it is a labor of many months to knit one. Formerly the fish were taken mainly by immense seines, hauled by a large number of men; but now all the deeper part of the river is fished with the long, delicate gill-nets that drift to and fro with the tide, and are managed by two men in a boat. The net is of fine linen thread, and is practically invisible to the shad in the obscure river current: it hangs suspended perpendicularly in the water, kept in position by buoys at the top and by weights at the bottom; the buoys are attached by cords twelve or fifteen feet long, which allow the net to sink out of the reach of the keels of passing vessels. The net is thrown out on the ebb tide, stretching nearly across the river, and drifts down and then back on the flood, the fish being snared behind the gills in their efforts to pass through the meshes. I envy fishermen their intimate acquaintance with the river. They know it by night as well as by day, and learn all its[page 159] moods and phases. The net is a delicate instrument that reveals all the hidden currents and by-ways, as well as all the sunken snags and wrecks at the bottom. By day the fisherman notes the shape and position of his net by means of the line or buoys; by night he marks the far end of it with a lantern fastened upon a board or block. The night tides he finds differ from the day—the flood at night being much stronger than at other times, as if some pressure had been removed with the sun, and the freed currents found less hindrance. The fishermen have terms and phrases of their own. The wooden tray upon which the net is coiled, and which sits in the stern of the boat, is called a 'cuddy.' The net is divided into 'shots.' If a passing sloop or schooner catches it with her centre-board or her anchor, it gives way where two or three shoots meet, and thus the whole net is not torn. The top cord or line of the net is called a 'cimline.' One fisherman 'plugs' another when he puts out from the shore and casts in ahead of him, instead of going to the general starting place, and taking his turn. This always makes bad blood. The luck of the born fisherman is about as conspicuous with the gill-net as with the rod and line, some boats being noted for their great catches the season through. No doubt the secret is mainly through application to the business in hand, but that is about all that distinguishes the successful angler. The shad campaign is one that requires pluck and endurance; no regular sleep, no regular meals; wet and cold, heat and wind and tempest, and no great gains at last. But the sturgeon fishers, who come later and are seen the whole summer through, have an indolent, lazy time of it. They fish around the 'slack-water,' catching the last of the ebb and the first of the flow, and hence drift but little either way. To a casual observer they appear as if anchored and asleep. But they wake up when they have a 'strike,' which may be every day, or not once a week. The fishermen keep their eye on[page 160] the line of buoys, and when two or more of them are hauled under, he knows his game has run foul of the net, and he hastens to the point. The sturgeon is a pig, without the pig's obstinacy. He spends much of the time rooting and feeding in the mud at the bottom, and encounters the net, coarse and strong, when he goes abroad. He strikes, and is presently hopelessly entangled, when he comes to the top and is pulled into the boat, like a great sleepy sucker. For so dull and lubbery a fish, the sturgeon is capable of some very lively antics; as, for instance, his habit of leaping full length into the air and coming down with a great splash. He has thus been known to leap unwittingly into a passing boat, to his own great surprise, and to the alarm and consternation of the inmates."

Germantown.—Germantown Station is now seen on the east bank, and between this and Germantown Dock, three miles to the north, is obtained the best view of the "Man in the Mountain," readily traced by the following outline: The peak to the south is the knee, the next to the north is the breast, and two or three above this the chin, the nose and the forehead. How often from the slope of Hillsdale, forty miles away on the western trend of the Berkshires, when a boy, playing by the fountain-heads of the Kinderhook and the Roeliffe Jansen's Creek, have I looked out upon this mountain range aglow in the sunset, and at even-tide heard my grandfather tell of his far-off journeys to Towanda, Pennsylvania, when he drove through the great Cloves of the Catskills, where twice he met "a bear" which retreated at the sound of his old flint-lock, and then when I went to sleep at night how I pulled the coverlet closer about my head, all on account of those two bears that had been dead for more than forty years.

THE MAN IN THE MOUNTAIN.

The Catskills were called by the Indians On-ti-o-ras, or mountains of the sky, as they sometimes seem like clouds along the horizon. This range of mountains was supposed by the Indians to have been originally a monster who[page 161] devoured all the children of the red men, until the great spirit touched him when he was going down to the salt lake to bathe, and here he remains. "Two little lakes upon the summit were regarded the eyes of the monster, and these are open all the summer; but in the winter they are covered with a thick crust or heavy film; but whether sleeping or waking tears always trickle down his cheeks. In these mountains, according to Indian belief, was kept the great treasury of storm and sunshine, presided over by an old squaw spirit who dwelt on the highest peak of the mountains. She kept day and night shut up in her wigwam, letting out only one at a time. She[page 162] manufactured new moons every month, cutting up the old ones into stars," and, like the old Æolus of mythology, shut the winds up in the caverns of the hills:—

The Catskill Mountains are now something more than a realm of romance and poetry or a mountain range of beauty along our western horizon, for, from this time forth the old squaw spirit will be kept busy with her "Treasury of Tear Clouds," as the water supply of New York is to come from these mountain sources.

The Catskill Water Supply.—The cost of this great undertaking is estimated at $162,000,000. Four creeks: The Esopus, Rondout, Schoharie and Catskill will constitute the main source of supply. The total area of the entire watershed is over nine hundred square miles, and the supply will exceed 800,000,000 gallons daily. The work projected will bring to the city 500,000,000 gallons per day.

The Ashoken Reservoir, 12 miles long and two miles wide, will hold 120,000,000,000 gallons. The Catskill Aqueduct supply from Ashoken Reservoir will deliver the water without pumping to Hill View Reservoir in Yonkers high enough for gravity distribution. It will take from ten to fifteen years to complete the work, which is begun none too early, as the population of Greater New York will be over 5,000,000 in 1915, and its water consumption 1,000,000,000 gallons. In 1930 the population will be 7,000,000 and will call for a consumption of 100,000,000,000 gallons daily. We are indeed "ancients of the earth and in the morning of our times." From the far limits of the gathering grounds some of the water will flow 130 miles to reach the city hall, and 20 miles further to the southern extremity of Staten Island.

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Between Old Cro' Nest and Cold Spring the water will be syphoned under the Hudson through a concrete tube six hundred feet below the surface of the river.

The Croton Water Works, at a cost of about $14,000,000, completed in 1842, were regarded the greatest undertaking since the Roman Aqueduct. Many improvements to meet increased demand have been made since that time. Fifty years from now it is quite possible that the Catskill System will seem like the Croton of to-day, as a small matter, and our next step will be "An Adirondack System," making the successive steps of our water supply the Croton, the Catskills and the Adirondacks.

It is fortunate that our city destined to be the world's emporium, has everything at hand needed for comfort and safety.

John Bigelow, the literary and political link of the century, born at Malden-on-the-Hudson, in 1817, was present at the inauguration of the work at Cold Spring, June, 1907. It was the writer's privilege to meet him often on the Hudson River steamers in the decade of 1870, and to receive from him many graphic descriptions of the early life and customs of the Hudson. What memories must have thronged upon him as he contrasted the life of three generations!

The Clover Reach.—We are now in what is known as The Clover Reach of the Hudson which extends to the Backerack near Athens. One mile above Germantown Dock stood Nine Mile Tree, a landmark among old river pilots so named on account of its marking a point nine miles from Hudson. Above this the Roeliffe Jansen's Kill flows into the river, known by the Indians as Saupenak, rising in Hillsdale within a few feet of Greenriver Creek, immortal in Bryant's verse. The Greenriver flows east into the Housatonic, the Jansen south into Dutchess County, whence it takes a northerly course until it joins the Hudson. The Burden iron furnaces above the mouth of the stream form an ugly feature in the landscape.[page 164] This is the southern boundary of the Herman Livingston estate, whose house is one mile and a half further up the river, near Livingston Dock, beneath Oak Hill. Greenville station is now seen on the east bank, directly opposite Catskill Landing, which the steamer is now approaching.

Catskill, 111 miles from New York, was founded in 1678 by the purchase of several square miles from the Indians. The landing is immediately above the mouth of the Catskill or Kaaterskill Creek. It is said that the creek and mountains derive their name as follows: It is known that each tribe had a totemic emblem, or rude banner; the Mahicans had the wolf as their emblem, and some say that the word Mahican means an enchanted wolf. (The Lenni Lenapes, or Delawares, had the turkey as their totem.) Catskill was the southern boundary of the Mahicans on the west bank, and here they set up their emblem. It is said from this fact the stream took the name of Kaaters-kill. The large cat or wolf, similar in appearance, forms the mark of King Aepgin on his deed to Van Rensselaer. Perhaps, however, the mountains at one time abounded in these animals, and the name may be only a coincidence. The old village, with its main street, lies along the valley of the Catskill Creek, not quite a mile from the Catskill Landing, and preserves some of the features of the days when Knickerbocker was accustomed to pay it an annual visit. The location seems to have been chosen as a place of security—out of sight to one voyaging up the river. The northern slope now reveals fine residences, all of which command extensive views. Just out of the village proper, on a beautiful outlook, stands the charming Prospect Park Hotel. The drives and pedestrian routes in the vicinity of Catskill are well condensed by Walton Van Loan, a resident of the village, whose guide to the Catskills is the best on this region and will be of great service to all who would like to understand thoroughly the mountain district.

[page 165]

The Northern Catskills.—The northern and southern divisions have been indicated not so much as mountain divisions, but in order to better emphasize the two routes, which converge from Kingston and Catskill toward each other, drawn by two principal points of attraction, the Catskill Mountain House and the Hotel Kaaterskill.

The Catskill Mountain House has been widely known for almost a century. The original proprietor had the choice of location in 1823, when the entire range was a vast mountain wilderness, and he made excellent selection for its site. It seems as if the rocky balcony was especially reared two thousand feet above the valley for a grand outlook and restful resort. "What can you see," exclaimed Natty Bumppo, one of Cooper's favorite characters. "Why, all the world;" and this is the feeling to-day of everyone looking down from this point upon the Hudson Valley.

The Mountain House Park has a valley frontage of over three miles in extent, and consists of 2,780 acres of magnificent forest and farming lands, traversed in all directions by many miles of carriage roads and paths, leading to various noted places of interest. The Crest, Newman's Ledge, Bear's Den, Prospect Rock on North Mountain, and Eagle Rock and Palenville Overlook on South Mountain, from which the grandest views of the region are obtained, are contained in the property. It also includes within its boundaries North and South Lakes, both plentifully stocked with various kind of fish and well supplied with boats and canoes. The atmosphere is delightful, invigorating and pure; the great elevation and surrounding forest render it free from malaria. The temperature is fifteen to twenty degrees lower than at Catskill Village, New York City or Philadelphia.

The Otis Elevating Railway, made possible by the enterprise of the late Commodore Van Santvoord, extends from Otis Junction on the Catskill Mountain Railway to Otis Summit, a noble altitude of the Catskill Range. The[page 166] incline railway, 7,000 feet in length, ascends 1,600 feet and attains an elevation of 2,200 feet above the Hudson River. "In length, elevation, overcome and carrying capacity it exceeds any other incline railway in the world. It is operated by powerful stationary engines and huge steel wire cables, and the method employed is similar to that used by the Otis Elevator Company for elevators in buildings. Every safeguard has been provided, so that an accident of any kind is practically impossible. Should the machinery break, the cables snap or track spread, an ingenious automatic device would stop the cars at once. A passenger car and baggage car are attached to each end of double cables which pass around immense drums located at the top of the incline. While one train rises the other descends, passing each other midway. By this arrangement trains carrying from seventy-five to one hundred passengers can be run in each direction every fifteen minutes when necessary, the time required for a trip being only ten minutes. This is a vast improvement over the old way of making the ascent of the mountains by stage, as it reduces the time fully one and a half hours, besides adding greatly to the pleasure of the trip. The ride up the mountains on the incline railway is a novel and delightful experience, and is alone worth a visit to the Catskills. As the train ascends, the magnificent panorama of the valley of the Hudson, extending for miles and miles, is gradually unfolded; while the river itself, like a ribbon of silver glistening in the sun, and the Berkshire Hills in the distance seem to rise to the view of the passenger. At the summit of the incline passengers for the Laurel House, Haines Corners, Ontiora, Sunset, Twilight, Santa Cruz, Elka Park, and Tannersville, take the trains of the Kaaterskill Railroad, which connect with the Otis Elevating Railway."

Two miles from the summit landing are the Kaaterskill Falls. The upper fall 175 feet, lower fall 85 feet. The[page 167] amphitheatre behind the cascade is the scene of one of Bryant's finest poems:

and we recall the lines which express so beautifully the well-nigh fatal dream

About half-way up the old mountain carriage road, is the place said to be the dreamland of Rip Van Winkle—the greatest character of American mythology, more real than the heroes of Homer or the massive gods of Olympus. The railway, however, has rather dispensed with Rip Van Winkle's resting-place. The old stage drivers had so long pointed out the identical spot where he slept that they had come to believe in it, but his spirit still haunts the entire locality, and we can get along without his "open air bed chamber." It will not be necessary to quote from a recent guide-book that "no intelligent person probably believes that such a character ever really existed or had such an experience." The explanation is almost as humorous as the legend.

The Hotel Kaaterskill, whose name and fame went over a continent even before it was fairly completed, is located on the summit of the Kaaterskill Mountain, three miles by carriage or one by path from the Catskill Mountain House. It is the largest mountain hotel at this time in the world, accommodating 1,200 guests, and the Catskills have reason to feel proud of this distinction. They have for many years had the best-known legend—the wonderful and immortal Rip Van Winkle. They have always enjoyed the finest valley views of any mountain outlook, and they have a right to the best hotels.

[page 168]

It may seem antiquated and old-fashioned in the midst of elevated railroads to speak of mountain driveways, but that to Palenville, as we last saw it, was a beautiful piece of engineering—as smooth as a floor and securely built. It looks as if it were intended to last for a century, the stone work is so thoroughly finished. The views from this road are superior to anything we have seen in the Catskills, and the great sweep of the mountain clove recalls a Sierra Nevada trip on the way to the Yosemite.

The writer will never forget another Catskill drive fully twenty years ago. Starting one morning with a pair of mustang ponies from Phœnicia, we called at the Kaaterskill, the Catskill Mountain House, and the Laurel House, took supper at Catskill Village, and reached New York that evening at eleven o'clock. It is unnecessary to say that we were on business—our book was on the press—and we went as if one of the printers' best-known companions was on our trail.

Irving's description of his first voyage up the river brings us more delicately and gracefully down from these mountains to the Hudson—the level highway to the sea. "Of all the scenery of the Hudson, the Kaatskill Mountains had the most witching effect on my boyish imagination. Never shall I forget the effect upon me of my first view of them, predominating over a wide extent of country—part wild, woody and rugged; part softened away into all the graces of cultivation. As we slowly floated along, I lay on the deck and watched them through a long summer's day, undergoing a thousand mutations under the magical effects of atmosphere; sometimes seeming to approach; at other times to recede; now almost melting into hazy distance, now burnished by the setting sun, until in the evening they printed themselves against the glowing sky in the deep purple of an Italian landscape."

[page 169]

Catskill to Hudson.

Leaving Catskill dock, the Prospect Park Hotel looks down upon us from a commanding point on the west bank, while north of this can be seen Cole's Grove, where Thomas Cole, the artist, lived, who painted the well-known series, the Voyage of Life. On the east side is Rodger's Island, where it is said the last battle was fought between the Mahicans and Mohawks; and it is narrated that "as the old king of the Mahicans was dying, after the conflict, he commanded his regalia to be taken off and his successor put into the kingship while his eyes were yet clear to behold him. Over forty years had he worn it, from the time he received it in London from Queen Anne. He asked him to kneel at his couch, and, putting his withered hand across his brow, placed the feathery crown upon his head, and gave him the silver-mounted tomahawk—symbols of power to rule and power to execute. Then, looking up to the heavens, he said, as if in despair for his race, 'The hills are our pillows, and the broad plains to the west our hunting-grounds; our brothers are called into the bright wigwam of the Everlasting, and our bones lie upon the fields of many battles; but the wisdom of the dead is given to the living.'"

On the east bank of the Hudson, above this historic island, is the residence of Frederick E. Church, whose glowing canvas has linked the Niagara with the Hudson. It commands a wide view of the Berkshire Hills to the eastward, and westward to the Catskills. The hill above Rodgers' Island, on the east bank, is known as Mount Merino, one of the first places to which Merino sheep were brought in this country.

Hudson, 115 miles from New York, was founded in the year 1784, by thirty persons from Providence, R. I., and incorporated as a city in 1785. The city is situated on[page 170] a sloping promontory, bounded by the North and South Bays. Its main streets, Warren, Union and Allen, run east and west a little more than a mile in length, crossed by Front Street, First, Second, Third, etc. Main Street reaches from Promenade Park to Prospect Hill. The park is on the bluff just above the steamboat landing; we believe this city is the only one on the Hudson that has a promenade ground overlooking the river. It commands a fine view of the Catskill Mountains, Mount Merino, and miles of the river scenery. The city has always enjoyed the reputation of hospitality. It is the western terminus of the Hudson and Chatham division of the Boston & Albany Railroad, and also of the Kinderhook & Hudson Railway.

From an old-time English history we read that Hudson grew more rapidly than any other town in America except Baltimore. Standing at the head of ship navigation it would naturally have become a great port had it not been for the railway and the steamboat which made New York the emporium not only of the Hudson, but also of the continent.

Hudson had also a good sprinkling of Nantucket blood, and visitors from that quaint old town recognize in portico, stoop and window a familiar architecture.

Columbia Springs, an old-time resort with pleasant grove and white sulphur water, is four miles northeast of Hudson. Its medicinal qualities are attested by scores of physicians, and by hundreds who have been benefited and cured. The drive is pleasant and the return can be made through—

Claverack, three and a half miles east of Hudson, a restful old-fashioned village situated at the crossing of the Old Post Road and the Columbia turnpike and county seat of Columbia in Knickerbocker days. The court house on its well-shaded street was for many years the home of the late Peter Hoffman. The Dutch Reformed Church, built of bricks brought from Holland, wears on its brow[page 171] wrinkles of antiquity, emphasized by the date 1767 on its walls. It is said that General Washington encamped here, but there is no historical data to confirm the tradition. Claverack Falls is well worth a visit, which can easily be made in an afternoon stroll. Copake Lake, to the southeast, can be reached by a drive of about twelve miles, a fine sheet of water ten miles in circumference, with a picturesque island connected to the main land by a causeway. Forty years ago a romantic ruin of a stone mansion still stood on this island, where the writer, when a boy, used to wander around the deserted rooms looking for ghosts, but the walls were torn down July 4, 1866, as the place was frequented every summer by a remnant of the old Stockbridge tribe. The neighbors thought the best way of getting rid of the "noble red men" was to burn up the hive. The mansion was built by a Miss Livingston, but she soon exchanged her island home for Florence and the classic associations of Italy. Bash-Bish, one mile from Copake Station on the Harlem Railroad, one of the most romantic glens in our country, has been visited and eulogized by Henry Ward Beecher, Bayard Taylor and many distinguished writers and travelers. Soon after leaving Copake Station a beautiful carriage road, but extremely narrow, strikes the left bank of this mountain stream, and for a long distance follows its rocky channel. On the right a thickly wooded hill rises abruptly more than a thousand feet—a perfect wall of foliage from base to summit. A mile brings one to the lower falls; the upper falls are about a quarter of a mile farther up the gorge. The height of the falls, with the rapids between, is about 300 feet above the little rustic bridge at the foot of the lower falls. The glen between is a place of wild beauty, with rocks and huge boulders "in random ruin piled."

Hillsdale Village has a beautiful location and affords a good central point for visiting Mount Everett, with its wide prospect (altitude 2,624 feet), Copake Lake six miles[page 172] to the west, Bash-Bish Falls six miles south, and Po-ka-no five miles to the northeast, sometimes known as White's Hill. The Po-ka-no, Columbia County's noblest outlook, 1,713 feet, commands the Hudson Valley for eighty miles; and the owner says that he saw the fireworks from there the night of the Newburgh centennial in 1883. From the summit can be seen "Monument Mountain" and the Green Mountains of Vermont. At its base glides the "Green River Creek," which flows into the Housatonic near Great Barrington. From this point the drive can be continued to North Egremont, South Egremont, Great Barrington and Monument Mountain. Before the days of railroads the Columbia turnpike was the great trade artery of the city of Hudson. It was interesting to hear William Cullen Bryant recount his experiences in driving from his home in Great Barrington over the well-known highway on his way to New York. The Housatonic and Harlem Railroads tapped its life and have left many a sleepy village along the route, once astir in staging days. The stone for Girard College was drawn from Massachusetts quarries over this route and shipped to Philadelphia from Hudson. The Lebanon Valley, in the northeastern part of the county, is considered one of the most beautiful in the State, and said by Sir Henry Vincent, the English orator, to resemble the far-famed valley of Llangollen, in Wales. The Wy-a-mon-ack Creek flows through the valley, joining its waters with the Kinderhook. Quechee Lake is near at hand, where Miss Warner was born, author of "Queechee" and the "Wide Wide World."

Lindenwald, a solid and substantial residence, home of President Martin Van Buren, where he died in 1862, is two miles from the pleasant village of Kinderhook. Columbia County just missed the proud distinction of rearing two presidents, as Samuel J. Tilden was born in the town of Lebanon. Elisha Williams, John Van Buren and many others have given lustre to her legal annals.

[page 173]

Hudson to Albany.

Athens.—Directly opposite Hudson, and connected with it by ferry, is the classically named village of Athens. An old Mahican settlement known as Potick was located a little back from the river. We are now in the midst of the great

"Ice Industry," which reaches from below Staatsburgh to Castleton and Albany, well described by John Burroughs in his article on the Hudson: "No man sows, yet many men reap a harvest from the Hudson. Not the least important is the ice harvest, which is eagerly looked for, and counted upon by hundreds, yes, thousands of laboring men along its course. Ice or no ice sometimes means bread or no bread to scores of families, and it means added or diminished comforts to many more. It is a crop that takes two or three weeks of rugged winter weather to grow, and, if the water is very roily or brackish, even longer. It is seldom worked till it presents seven or eight inches of clear water ice. Men go out from time to time and examine it, as the farmer goes out and examines his grain or grass, to see when it will do to cut. If there comes a deep fall of snow the ice is 'pricked' so as to let the water up through and form snow ice. A band of fifteen or twenty men, about a yard apart, each armed with a chisel-bar, and marching in line, puncture the ice at each step, with a single sharp thrust. To and fro they go, leaving a belt behind them that presently becomes saturated with water. But ice, to be of first quality, must grow from beneath, not from above. It is a crop quite as uncertain as any other. A good yield every two or three years, as they say of wheat out west, is about all that can be counted upon. When there is an abundant harvest, after the ice houses are filled, they stack great quantities of it, as the farmer stacks his surplus hay. Such a fruitful winter was that of '74-5,[page 174] when the ice formed twenty inches thick. The stacks are given only a temporary covering of boards, and are the first ice removed in the season. The cutting and gathering of the ice enlivens these broad, white, desolate fields amazingly. My house happens to stand where I look down upon the busy scene, as from a hill-top upon a river meadow in haying time, only here figures stand out much more sharply than they do from a summer meadow. There is the broad, straight, blue-black canal emerging into view, and running nearly across the river; this is the highway that lays open the farm. On either side lie the fields, or ice meadows, each marked out by cedar or hemlock boughs. The farther one is cut first, and when cleared, shows a large, long, black parallelogram in the midst of the plain of snow. Then the next one is cut, leaving a strip or tongue of ice between the two for the horses to move and turn upon. Sometimes nearly two hundred men and boys, with numerous horses, are at work at once, marking, plowing, planing, scraping, sawing, hauling, chiseling; some floating down the pond on great square islands towed by a horse, or their fellow workmen; others distributed along the canal, bending to their ice-hooks; others upon the bridges separating the blocks with their chisel bars; others feeding the elevators; while knots and straggling lines of idlers here and there look on in cold discontent, unable to get a job. The best crop of ice is an early crop. Late in the season or after January, the ice is apt to get 'sun-struck,' when it becomes 'shaky,' like a piece of poor timber. The sun, when he sets about destroying the ice, does not simply melt it from the surface—that were a slow process; but he sends his shafts into it and separates it into spikes and needles—in short, makes kindling-wood of it, so as to consume it the quicker. One of the prettiest sights about the ice harvesting is the elevator in operation. When all works well, there is an unbroken procession of the great crystal blocks slowly ascending this incline.[page 175] They go up in couples, arm in arm, as it were, like friends up a stairway, glowing and changing in the sun, and recalling the precious stones that adorned the walls of the celestial city. When they reach the platform where they leave the elevator, they seem to step off like things of life and volition; they are still in pairs and separate only as they enter upon the 'runs.' But here they have an ordeal to pass through, for they are subjected to a rapid inspection and the black sheep are separated from the flock; every square with a trace of sediment or earth-stain in it, whose texture is not perfect and unclouded crystal, is rejected and sent hurling down into the abyss; a man with a sharp eye in his head and a sharp ice-hook in his hand picks out the impure and fragmentary ones as they come along and sends them quickly overboard. Those that pass the examination glide into the building along the gentle incline, and are switched off here and there upon branch runs, and distributed to all parts of the immense interior."

Passing west of the Hudson Flats we see North Bay, crossed by the New York Central Railroad. Kinderhook Creek meets the river about three miles north of Hudson, directly above which is Stockport Station for Columbiaville. Four Mile Light-house is now seen on the opposite bank. Nutten Hook, or Coxsackie Station, is four miles above Stockport. Opposite this point, and connected by a ferry, is the village of—

Coxsackie (name derived from Kaak-aki, or place of wild geese, "aki" in Indian signifies place and it is singular to find the Indian word "Kaak" so near to the English "cackle"). Two miles north Stuyvesant Landing is seen on the east bank, the nearest station on the New York Central & Hudson River Railroad, by carriage, to Valatie and Kinderhook. The name Kinderhook is said to have had its origin from a point on the Hudson prolific in children; as the children were always out of doors to see the passing craft, it was known as Kinderhook,[page 176] or "children's point." Passing Bronk's Island, due west of which empties Coxsackie Creek, we see Stuyvesant Light-house on our right, and approach New Baltimore, a pleasant village on the west bank, with sloop and barge industry. About a mile above the landing is the meeting point of four counties: Greene and Albany on the west, Columbia and Rensselaer on the east. Beeren Island, connected with Coeyman's Landing by small steamer, now a picnic resort, lies near the west bank, where it will be remembered the first white child was born on the Hudson. Here was the Castle of Rensselaertein, before which Antony Van Corlear read again and again the proclamation of Peter Stuyvesant, and from which he returned with a diplomatic reply, forming one of the most humorous chapters in Irving's "Knickerbocker." Threading our way through low-lying islands and river flats, and "slowing down" occasionally on meeting canal boats or other river craft, we pass Coeyman's on our left and Lower Schodack Island on our right, due east of which is the station of Schodack Landing. The writer of this handbook remembers distinctly a winter's evening walk from Schodack Landing, crossing the frozen Hudson and snow-covered island on an ill-defined trail. He was on his way to deliver his first lecture, February, 1868, and his subject was "The Legends and Poetry of the Hudson." Since that time he has written and re-written many guides to the river, so that the present handbook is not a thing of yesterday. The next morning, on his return to Schodack, he had for his companion a young man from twenty or thirty miles inland, who had never seen a train of cars except in the distance. On reaching the railway, one of the New York expresses swept by, and as he caught the motion of the bell cord he turned and said: "Do they drive it with that little string?" Lower Schodack Island, Mills Plaat (also an island) and Upper Schodack Island reach almost to—