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*śseo o HE love of country, springing up from the rich soil of the domestic affections, is a $o feeling coexistent and coextensive with social * union itself. Although a dreary climate, barren lands, and unrighteous laws, wickedly administered, may repress the luxuriant growth of this sentiment, it will still maintain firm root in the heart, and bear with patience the * most cruel wrongs. Man loves the soil that gave him birth as o # the child loves the mother, and from the same inherent imo, pulses. When exiled from his father-land, he yearns for it as a * child yearns for home; and though he may, by legal oath, dis

Zoo claim allegiance to his own and swear fealty to another government, o o, the invisible links of patriotism which bind him to his country can o o not be severed; his lips and hand bear false witness against his truthful heart. Stronger far is this sentiment in the bosom of him whose country % is a pleasant land, where nature in smiling beauty and rich beneficence woos him on every side; where education quickens into refining activity the intellect of society; and where just laws, righteously administered, o, impress all possession, whether of property or of character, with the broad ... seal of security. An honest, justified pride elevates the spirit of the citi

zen of a land so favored; makes him a vigilant guardian of its rights and

honor, and inspires him with a profound reverence for the men and deeds consecrated by the opinions of the just as the basis upon which its glory rests.

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Classic Localities. Departure for Saratoga. Voyage up the Hudson.

It was under the influence of this sentiment, so natural to every American, and a strong desire to make a personal visit to the classic grounds of my country, and portray their features before every ancient lineament should be effaced, that, during the sultriness of midsummer, I left behind me the cares of business life within the confines of our commercial metropolis, and commenced a pilgrimage to the most important localities connected with the events of the war for our national independence. For many years, as I occasionally saw some field consecrated by revolutionary blood, or building hallowed as a shelter of the heroes of that war, I have felt emotions of shame, such as every American ought to feel, on seeing the plow leveling the breast-works and batteries where our fathers bled, and those edifices, containing the council-chambers of men who planned the attack, the ambuscade, or the retreat, crumbling into utter ruin. While England erects a monument in honor of the amputated leg of a hero who fought for personal renown, we allow these relics, sanctified by the deeds of soldiers who were more than heroes as the world regards heroism, to pass away and be forgotten. Acquisitiveness is pulling down walled fortresses; the careless agriculturist, unmindful of the sacredness of the ditch and mound that scar his fields, is sowing and reaping where marble monuments should stand; and improvement, a very Cambyses among achievements of labor of former times, under the fair mask of refined taste, is leveling nearly all that remains of the architecture of the Revolution. To delineate with pen and pencil what is left of the physical features of that period, and thus to rescue from oblivion, before it should be too late, the mementoes which another generation will appreciate, was my employ. ment for several months; and a desire to place the result of those journeyings, with a record of past events inseparably connected with what I have delineated, in an enduring form before my countrymen, has given birth to these pages.

I resolved to visit the scenes of the northern campaigns during the summer and early au. tumn. With the exception of the historic grounds lying around New York and among the Hudson Highlands, the fields of Saratoga, in point of importance and distance, invited the initial visit.

I left New York on the evening of the 24th of July for Poughkeepsie, on the banks of the Hudson, there to be joined by a young lady, my traveling companion for the summer. For many days the hot sun had been unclouded, and neither shower nor dew imparted grateful moisture to town or country.

1848.

“The whispering waves were half asleep,
The clouds were gone to play,
And on the woods and on the deep
The smiles of Heaven lay.”
SHELLEY.

During the afternoon the barometer indicated a change, and portents of a gathering storm arose in the west. At twilight we entered the great amphitheater of the Highlands, and darkness came down suddenly upon us as a tempest of wind, thunder, and rain burst over the Dunderberg and the neighboring heights. A thunder-storm at night in the Hudson Highlands ! It is a scene of grandeur and sublimity vouchsafed to few, and never to be forgotten. The darkness became intense, and echo confused the thunder-peals into one continuous roar. The outlines of the hills disappeared in the gloom, and our vessel seemed the only object wrapped in the bosom of the tempest, except when, at every flash of lightning, high wooded cones, or lofty ranges, or rocky cliffs burst into view like a sudden creation of the Omnipotent fiat, and then melted into chaos again. The storm continued until we passed West Point. The clouds then broke, and as we emerged from the upper gate of the Highlands into the beautiful expanse of Newburgh Bay, the moon came forth, like a queen from her pavilion, in beauty and majesty, the winds were quiet, the waters placid, and the starry sky serene, for

“The thunder, tramping deep and loud
Had left no foot-marks there.”

Returning Volunteers. Albany. Troy. Fulton's Steam-boat

The next morning the air was clear and cool as in September. At noon we took passage in one of those floating palaces which are the pride of the Hudson River. What a contrast to the awkward contrivance—the mere germ of the steam-boat of the present day— that gave such glory to Fulton, and astonished the world." Her saloon, like a ducal drawing-room; her table, spread as with a royal banquet; her speed, like that of the swift bird, are all the creations of one generation, and seem like works of magic. Among the passengers there were a few—plain and few indeed—who attracted general attention. They were a remnant of a regiment of Volunteers returning home, weary and spirit-broken, from the battle-fields of Mexico. Of the scores who went with them, these alone returned to tell of havoc in battle and slaughter by the deadly vomito. They were young, but the lesson of sad experience might be read on each brow, and the natural joy of the homeward-bound beamed not in their eyes. To them military glory was a bubble burst; and the recollections of the recent past brought not to them that joy which the soldier feels who has battled in defense of country and home. At Albany preparations had been made to receive them, and for half a mile the wharves, bridges, vessels, and houses were thickly covered with people anxious to see the returning heroes. We landed with difficulty in the midst of the excitement and noise, for cannon-peals, and drum and fife, and the rattle of military accouterments, and wild huzzas of the crowd, and the coaxing and swearing of porters and coachmen, were enough to confound confusion itself. How changed was the scene when we returned, a few weeks later. Wharves, bridges, and houses had been swept by conflagration, and acres of the dense city were strewn with smoking ruins.

Early on the morning of the 26th we left Albany for Bemis's Heights, near the village of Stillwater. An omnibus ride of an hour, over a fine McAdam road, placed us in Troy, where we took stage for the Waterford ferry at Lansingburgh, four miles above. The day was excessively warm, and eleven passengers occupied “seats for nine.” Not a zephyr stirred the waters or the leaves. A funny little water-man, full of wine and wit, or something stronger and coarser, offered to row us across in his rickety skiff. I demanded the price for ferriage.

For the gratification of the curious, I here present a drawing of the “CLERMoNT,” Fulton's experiment boat, with some notices of her earlier voyages.

It was constructed under the personal supervision of Fulton, in 1807. It was one hundred feet long, twelve feet wide, and seven feet deep. In 1808 it was lengthened to one hundred and fifty feet, widened to eighteen, and its name changed to North River. The engine was constructed by Watt & Bolton, England, and the hull by David Brown, of New York. In August, 1807, the boat was propelled from the East River to the Jersey shore; and about the first of September it was started on its first trip to Albany.

The following advertisement appeared in the Albany Gazette, September 1st, 1807:

“The North River steam-boat will leave Paulus's Hook [Jersey City] on Friday, the 4th of September, at 9 in the morning, and arrive at Albany on Saturday, at 9 in the afternoon. Provisions, good berths, and accommodations are provided. The charge to each passenger is as follows:

THE CLERMoxt.

To Newburgh, dolls. 3, time 14 hours.

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It is noticed in the same paper, of October 5th, 1807, that “Mr. Fulton's new steam-boat left New York on the 2d, at 10 o'clock A.M., against a strong tide, very rough water, and a violent gale from the north. She made a headway against the most sanguine expectations, and without being rocked by the waves.” What a change in about forty years! Forty years ago a steam-boat voyage from Albany to New York, one hundred and sixty miles, was accomplished in thirty-six hours, at an expense of seven dollars, exclusive of cost of meals. Now the passage is easily and often made in nine and a half hours, at a cost of one dollar, and frequently for less. Now our first class steam-boats are nearly four hundred feet long, and of proportionate depth and breadth of beam.

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Crossing the Hudson. Cohoes' Falls. Van Schaick's Island. State of Affairs in 1777.

“Five thousand dollars,” hiccoughed the Charon. I did not object to the price, but, valuing safety at a higher figure, sought the owner of a pretty craft near by, while the little votary of Bacchus was tugging manfully, but unsuccessfully, at a huge trunk, to lift it into his boat. Before he was fairly conscious that he was not yet toiling at our luggage, we were out upon the stream in the “Lady of the Lake.” I compensated the tipsy boatman for his labor of love by a brief temperance lecture; but the seed doubtless fell upon “stony ground,” for he had the hard-heartedness to consign me to the safe keeping of him whom

“The old painters limned with a hoof and a horn,
A beak and a scorpion tail.”

We pushed across the Hudson to the upper mouth or “sprout” of the Mohawk, and, gliding under the rail-road bridge and along a sluice of the Champlain Canal, clambered up a high bank, and reached the packet office at Waterford' toward moon. The suppressed roar of Cohoes' Falls, two miles distant, wooed us to the pleasures of that fashionable resort, to while away the three hours before the arrival of the canal packet. These falls, though not so grand as many others either in volume or altitude of cataract, or in the natural scenery around, nevertheless present many points of beauty and sublimity exceedingly attractive to the tourist. The Mohawk is here more than one hundred yards wide, and perfectly rock-ribbed on both sides. The fall is nearly seventy feet perpendicular, in addition to the turbulent rapids above and below. A bridge, eight hundred feet long, spans the river half a mile below the falls, from which a fine view may be obtained of the whole scene. Before entering the Hudson, the river is divided into four mouths or sprouts, as they are called, by three rocky islands, Haver's, Van Schaick's or Cohoes', and Green's or Tibbetts's Islands, which form a scene that is singularly picturesque. It is generally supposed that Henry Hudson, the discoverer of the river bearing his name, ascended as far as this point in 1609, and that he and his boat's crew were the first white men who beheld the cataract of Cohoes. The mouth of the Mohawk was a point of much interest toward the close of the summer of 1777, when Van Schaick's Island was fortified by General Schuyler, then in command of the northern division of the Continental army. Properly to understand the position of affairs at that period, it is necessary to take a brief view of events immediately antecedent to, and intimately connected with, the military operations at this point, and at Stillwater a few weeks later. Incensed at the audacity of the American Congress in declaring the colonies free and independent states; piqued at the consummate statesmanship displayed by the members of that Congress, and foiled in every attempt to cajole the Americans by delusive promises, or to crush the spirit of resistance by force of arms, the British ministry, backed by the stubborn king and a strong majority in both Houses of Parliament, determined to open the campaign of 1777 with such vigor, and to give to the service in America such material, as should not fail to put down the rebellion by midsummer, and thus vindicate British valor, which seemed to be losing its invincibility. So long as the Americans were tolerably united ; so long as there remained a free communication between Massachusetts and Virginia, or, in other words, between the Eastern and the Middle and Southern States, permanent success of the British arms in America was very questionable. The rebellion was hydra-headed, springing into new life and vigor suddenly and powerfully, from the inherent energies of union, in places where it seemed to be subdued and destroyed. To sever that union, and to paralyze the vitality dependent thereon, was a matter of great importance, and to effect this was a paramount object of the British government. General Howe was then in the quiet possession of the city of New York and its vicinity;

* Waterford is on the west bank of the Hudson, at the head of sloop navigation.

English Preparations for the Campaign of 1777. Instructions of Lord George Germain. Biographical Sketch of Burgoyne.

a strong British force occupied Rhode Island and overawed the eastern coast; the patriot insurgents had been driven out of Canada by General Carleton, and nothing remained to complete the separation of the two sections of the American States but to march an invad

—, ing army from the north, which, forming a junction with

- Howe, should secure the country and the strong-holds upon Lakes Champlain and George and the Hudson River." Such an expedition was planned jointly by the king, Lord George Germain, and General Burgoyne, and agreed upon in council.” The general command was intrusted to Burgoyne, who was a natural son of Lord Bingley, and at that time high in the confidence of the king and his advisers.” He was brave, skillful, and humane, proud of distinction, sanguine of success, and eager for military renown. If the tactics of European warfare had been appropriate for the expedition, success might have attended his efforts. But in his appointment, as well as in the minute and positive instructions given him, without reference to any contingency that might demand a wide departure from their letter and spirit, the From an English print, 1783. British ministry, always at fault in the management of

LIEUTENANT GENERAL BURGoyNE.

* Lord George Germain, then colonial secretary, in a letter to Governor Carleton, of Canada, dated March 26th, 1777, observes, “With a view of quelling the rebellion as soon as possible, it is become highly necessary that the most speedy junction of the two armies should be effected [the forces from Canada and those of General Howe at New York]; and, therefore, as the security and good government of Canada absolutely require your presence there, it is the king's determination to leave about 3000 men under your command for the defense and duties of that province, and to employ the remainder of your army upon two expeditions, the one under the command of Lieutenant General Burgoyne, who is to force his way to Albany, and the other under Lieutenant Colonel St. Leger, who is to make a diversion on the Mohawk River.”—Burgoyne's Statement of the Expedition from Canada, &c. (Appendix), p. xiii., London, 1780.

* Pictorial History of George III., vol. i., p. 306.

* Lieutenant General Burgoyne was an illegitimate son of Lord Bingley. He entered the army at an early age, and his education and the influence of his father soon placed him in the line of promotion. In 1762 he was sent into Portugal with an English force to assist in the defense of that kingdom against the Spaniards. He then held the commission of a brigadier, and distinguished himself in the capture of the garrison of Almeida. After his return to England, he became a privy councillor, and was elected to a seat in Parliament as representative for Preston, in Lancashire. He came over to America in 1775, and was at Boston at the time of the battle of Bunker Hill. He was sent to Canada the same year, but early in 1776 returned to England. Through the influence of the king and Lord George Germain, he was appointed to the command of the northern British army in America in the spring of 1777. After some successes, he was captured, with all his army, at Saratoga, in October of that year. After some delay, he was allowed to return to England on parole, and he was actually engaged in debates upon the floor of the British House of Commons at the very time he was a prisoner to the Americans. His misfortunes lost him the friendship of the king, and he was denied access to his presence. In 1780 he published a narrative of his Expedition, together with the proceedings of his trial before a committee of Parliament, in which he well vindicated his character. He soon afterward resigned his emoluments from government, amounting to $15,000 a year. In 1781 he joined the opposition in Parliament, and opposed the further prosecution of the war against the Americans as impolitic and cruel. From the conclusion of peace until his death, he devoted his time to pleasure and literary pursuits. He died of an attack of gout, on the 4th of August, 1792. Among his literary productions are The Maid of the Oaks, Bon Ton, and The Heiress, dramas which at one time were highly popular. Benevolence and humanity were strong features in Burgoyne's character, and I think the fierce anathema of Philip Freneau, a poet of the Revolution, was altogether too severe. After giving Burgoyne several hard rubs in the course of his epic, he describes an ice-bound, fog-covered, dreary island north of Scotland, and there consigns the Tories, with Burgoyne at their head, as follows:

“There, Loyals, there, with loyal hearts retire,
There pitch your tents, and kindle there your fire;
There desert Nature will her stings display,
And fiercest hunger on your vitals prey;
And with yourselves let John Burgoyne retire,
To reign your monarch, whom your hearts desire.”
FRENEAU's Poems, p. 246.

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