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 Phoenicia 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.

* * *

From greens and shades where the Kaaterskill leaps, From cliffs where the wood-flowers cling.

William Cullen Bryant.

* * *

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.

* * *

The Catskills to the northward rise With massive swell and towering crest— The old-time "mountains of the skies," The threshold of eternal rest.

Wallace Bruce.

* * *

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 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 river that he loved so well Like a full heart is awed to calm, The winter air that wafts his knell Is fragrant with autumnal balm.

Henry T. Tuckerman.

* * *

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—

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, 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.

* * *

Exactly one hundred years separate the first paddle-boat of Papin from the first steamboat of Fulton.

Victor Hugo.

* * *

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 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.'"

* * *

I see the traditions of my fathers are true; I see far, far away the big bird again floating upon the waters, so far my warriors that you cannot see it, but ere two autumns have scattered the leaves upon my grave, the pale face will claim our hunting grounds.

Aepgin, King of the Mahicans.

* * *

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,—the telegraph by Morse after a score of "invented" failures, and the successful application of steam to navigation by Fulton.

* * *

I was glad to think that among the last memorable beauties which have glided past us were pictures traced by no common hand, not easily to grow old or fade beneath the dust of time—the Kaatskill Mountains, Sleepy Hollow and the Tappan Zee.

Charles Dickens.

* * *

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.

* * *

The stars are on the running stream, And fling, as its ripples gently flow, A burnished length of wavy-beam In an eel-like, spiral line below.

Joseph Rodman Drake.

* * *

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 11/2 miles an hour.

"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 41/2 miles an hour in still water. Consequently when the tide is 11/2 miles an hour in her favor she runs 53/4 miles an hour. When the tide is against her she runs 23/4 miles an hour. Thus in theory her average velocity is 41/4 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.

* * *

Through many a blooming wild and woodland green The Hudson's sleeping waters winding stray.

Margaretta V. Faugeres.

* * *

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 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 mistaken for "Clermont," but a well-stocked cellar mollified the British captain.

* * *

O! stream of the mountains if answer of thine Could rise from thy waters to questions of mine, Methinks through the din of thy thronged banks a moan Of sorrow would come for the days that are gone.

Legends of the Hudson.

* * *

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 cyclopaedias, 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 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."

* * *

How grateful is the sudden change From arid pavements to the grass, From narrow streets that thousands range To meadows where June zephyrs pass.

Henry T. Tuckerman.

* * *

It is a drop for the old Hudson, and a merry time it has until it gets down off the mountains. I have thought how long it would be before that very water which was made for the wilderness will be under the bottom of a vessel and tossing in the salt sea.

James Fenimore Cooper.

* * *

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—

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.

* * *

Let us not then neglect to improve the advantages we possess; let us avail ourselves of the present moment to fix lasting peace upon the broad basis of natural union; let us while it is still in our power lay the foundation of our long happiness and the happiness of our posterity.

Robert R. Livingston.

* * *

Above West Camp landing on the west side, is the boundary line between Ulster and Greene Counties; Ulster 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 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 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."

* * *

The swelling river, into his green gulfs, Unshadowed save by passing sails above, Takes the redundant glory, and enjoys The summer in his chilly bed.

William Cullen Bryant.

* * *

I heard the plaintiff note of the Whip-poor-will from the mountain-side, or was startled now and then by the sudden leap and heavy splash of the sturgeon.

Washington Irving.

* * *

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.



* * *

And, sister, now my children come To find the water just as cool, To play about our grandsire's home, To see our pictures in the pool.

Wallace Bruce.

* * *

Alps of the Hudson, whose bold summits rise Into the upper ether of the skies, Cleaving with calm content The cloudless crystal of the firmament.

Joel Benton.

* * *

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 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 manufactured new moons every month, cutting up the old ones into stars," and, like the old AEolus of mythology, shut the winds up in the caverns of the hills:—

Where Manitou once lived and reigned, Great Spirit of a race gone by, And Ontiora lies enchained With face uplifted to the sky.

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.

* * *

The majestic Hudson is on my left, The Catskills rise in my dream; The cataracts leap from the mountain cleft And the brooks in the sunlight gleam.

Minot F. Savage.

* * *

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. 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.

* * *

The fields and waters seem to us this Sabbath morning from the summit of the Catskills, no more truly property than the skies that shine upon them.

Harriet Martineau.

* * *

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 Kaaterskill. 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.

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.

* * *

Ah! how often when I have been abroad on the mountains has my heart risen in grateful praise to God that it was not my destiny to waste and pine among those noisome congregations of the city.

John James Audubon.

* * *

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.

* * *

Cooper's "Leatherstocking" is the one melodious synopsis of man and nature.

Thomas Carlyle.

* * *

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 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."

* * *

The din of toil comes faintly swelling up From green fields far below, and all around The forest sea sends up its ceaseless roar Like the ocean's everlasting chime.

Bayard Taylor.

* * *

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

"From greens and shades where the Kaaterskill leaps From cliffs where the wood flowers cling;"

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

"Of that dreaming one By the base of that icy steep, When over his stiffening limbs begun The deadly slumber of frost to creep."

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.

* * *

There is a fall in the hills, where the water of two little ponds runs over the rocks into the valley. The first pitch is nigh two hundred feet and the water looks like flakes of driven snow before it touches the bottom.

James Fenimore Cooper.

* * *

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 Phoenicia, 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."

* * *

Limned upon the fair horizon, West from central Hudson's tide, The fair form of Ontiora Throughout ages shall abide.

Jared Barhete.

* * *

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 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.

* * *

White fleecy clouds move slowly by. How cool their shadows fall to-day! A moment on the hills they lie And then like spirits glide away.

Henry T. Tuckerman.

* * *

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 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."

* * *

I saw the green banks of the castle-crowned Rhine, Where the grapes drink the moonlight and change into wine, But my heart would still yearn for the sound of the waves That sing as they flow by my forefather's graves.

Oliver Wendell Holmes.

* * *

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 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."

* * *

Welcome ye pleasant dales and hills, Where dream-like passed my early days! Ye cliffs and glens and laughing rills That sing unconscious hymns of praise!

Wallace Bruce.

* * *

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.

* * *

Ever fonder, ever dearer Seems our youth that hastened by, And we love to live in memory When our fond hopes fade and die.

Wallace Bruce.

* * *

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, 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. 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."

* * *

But when in the forest bare and old The blast of December calls, He builds in the starlight clear and cold A palace of ice where his torrent falls.

William Cullen Bryant.

* * *

Where the frost trees shoot with leaf and spray And frost gems scatter a silver ray.

William Cullen Bryant.

* * *

How fair the thronging pictures run, What joy the vision fills— The star-glow and the setting sun Amid the northern hills.

Benjamin F. Leggett.

* * *

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, 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—

Castleton, a pleasant village on the eastern bank, with main street lying close to the river. The cliffs, a few miles to the north, were known to the Indians as Scoti-ack, or place of the ever-burning council-fire, which gave the name of Schodack to the township, where King Aepgin, on the 8th of April, 1680, sold to Van Rensselaer "all that tract of country on the west side of the Hudson, extending from Beeren Island up to Smack's Island, and in breadth two days' journey."

* * *

No spot in all the world where poetry and romance are so closely blended with the heroic in history as along the banks of our Hudson.

Wallace Bruce.

* * *

THE MAHICAN TRIBE originally occupied all the east bank of the Hudson north of Roeliffe Jansen's Kill, near Germantown, to the head waters of the Hudson; and on the west bank, from Cohoes to Catskill. The town of Schodack was central, and a signal displayed from the hills near Castleton could be seen for thirty miles in every direction. After the Mahicans left the Hudson, they went to Westenhook, or Housatonic, to the hills south of Stockbridge; and then, on invitation of the Oneidas, removed to Oneida County, in 1785, where they lived until 1821, when, with other Indians of New York, they purchased a tract of land near Fox River, Minnesota.

Domestic clans or families of the Mahicans lingered around their ancient seats for some years after the close of the Revolution, but of them, one after another, it is written, "They disappeared in the night." In the language of Tamerund at the death of Uncas, "The pale-faces are masters of the earth, and the time of the red men has not yet come again. My day has been too long. In the morning I saw the sons of Unami happy and strong; and yet before the night has come, have I lived to see the last warrior of the race of the Mahicans."

* * *

Autumn had given uniformity of coloring to the woods. It varied now between copper and gold, and shone like an infinitely rich golden embroidery on the Indian veil of mist which rested upon the heights along the Hudson.

Harriet Martineau.

* * *

According to Ruttenber, the names and location of the Indian tribes were not ascertained with clearness by the early Dutch settlers, but through documents, treaties and information, subsequently obtained, it is now settled that the Mahicans held possession "under sub-tribal organizations" of the east bank of the river from an undefined point north of Albany to the sea, including Long Island; that their dominion extended east to the Connecticut, where they joined kindred tribes; that on the west bank of the Hudson they ran down as far as Catskill, and west to Schenectady; that they were met on the west by the territory of the Mohawks, and on the south by tribes of the Lenni Lenapes or Delawares, whose territory extended thence to the sea, and west to and beyond the Delaware River. The Mahicans had a castle at Catskill and at Cohoes Falls. The western side of the Hudson, above Cohoes, belonged to the Mohawks, a branch of the Iroquois. Therefore, as early as 1630, three great nations were represented on the Hudson—

The Mahicans, the Delawares and the Iroquois. The early French missionaries refer to the "nine nations of Manhinyans, gathered between Manhattan and the environs of Quebec." These several nations have never been accurately designated, although certain general divisions appear under the titles of Mohegan, Wappinger, Sequins, etc. "The government of the Mahicans was a democracy. The office was hereditary by the lineage of the wife; that is, the selection of a successor on the death of the chief, was confined to the female branch of the family." According to Ruttenber, the precise relation between the Mahicans of the Hudson and the Mohegans under Uncas, the Pequot chief, is not known. In a foot-note to this statement, he says: "The identity of name between the Mahicans and Mohegans, induces the belief that all these tribes belonged to the same stock,—although they differed in dialect, in territory, and in their alliances." The two words, therefore, must not be confounded.

* * *

Round about the Indian village Spread the meadows and the cornfields, Stood the groves of singing pine trees, And beyond them stood the forest,

Henry W. Longfellow.

* * *

It is also pleasant to remember that the Mahicans as a tribe were true and faithful to us during the war of the Revolution, and when the six nations met in council at Oswego, at the request of Guy Johnson and other officers of the British army, "to eat the flesh and drink the blood of a Bostonian," Hendrick, the Mahican, made the pledge for his tribe at Albany, almost in the eloquent words of Ruth to Naomi, "Thy people shall be our people, and whither thou goest we will be at your side."

The Mourdener's Kill, with its sad story of a girl tied by Indians to a horse and dragged through the valley, flows into the Hudson above Castleton. Two miles above this near the steamer channel will be seen Staats Island on the east, with an old stone house, said to be next in antiquity to the old Van Rensselaer House, opposite Albany. It is also a fact that this property passed directly to the ancestors of the present family, the only property in this vicinity never owned by the lord of the manor. Opposite the old stone house, the point on the west bank is known as Parda Hook, where it is said a horse was once drowned in a horse-race on the ice, and hence the name Parda, for the old Hollanders along the Hudson seemed to have had a musical ear, and delighted in accumulating syllables. (The word pard is used in Spenser for spotted horse, and still survives in the word leopard.)

The Castleton Bar or "overslaugh," as it was known by the river pilots, impeded for years navigation in low water. Commodore Van Santvoord and other prominent citizens brought the subject before the State legislature, and work was commenced in 1863. In 1868 the United States Government very properly (as their jurisdiction extends over tide-water), assumed the completing of the dykes, which now stretch for miles along the banks and islands of the upper Hudson. Here and there along our route between Coxsackie and Albany will be seen great dredges deepening and widening the river channel. The plan provides for a system of longitudinal dykes to confine the current sufficiently to allow the ebb and flow of the tidal-current to keep the channel clear. These dykes are to be gradually brought nearer together from New Baltimore toward Troy, so as to assist the entrance of the flood-current and increase its height.

* * *

Where Hudson winds his silver way And murmurs at the tardy stay, Impatient at delay.

William Crow.

* * *

The engineers report that the greater part of the material carried in suspension in the Hudson river above Albany is believed to come from the Mohawk river, and its tributary the Schoharie river, while the sands and gravel that form the heavy and obstinate bars near Albany and chiefly between Albany and Troy, come from the upper Hudson.

The discharge of the Hudson between Troy and Albany at its lowest stage may be taken at about 3,000 cubic feet per second. The river supply, therefore, during that stage is inadequate in the upper part of the river for navigation, independent of tidal flow.

The greatest number of bars is between Albany and Troy, where the channel is narrow, and at least six obstructing bars, composed of fine and coarse gravel and coarse and fine sand, are in existence. In many places between Albany and Troy the navigable depth is reduced to 71/2 feet by the presence of these bars.

From Albany to New Baltimore the depths are variable, the prevailing depth being 10 feet and over, with pools of greater depth separated by long cross-over bars, over which the greatest depth does not exceed 9 or 10 feet. Passing many delightful homes on the west bank and the mouth of the Norman's Kill (Indian name Ta-wa-sentha, place of many dead) and the Convent of the Sacred Heart, we see Dow's Point on the east and above this the—

Van Rensselaer Place, with its port holes on either side of the door facing the river, showing that it was built in troublesome times. It is the oldest of the Patroon manor houses, built in 1640 or thereabouts. It has been said that the adaptation of the old tune now known as "Yankee Doodle" was made near the well in the grounds of the Van Rensselaer Place by Dr. Richard Shuckberg, who was connected with the British army when the Colonial troops from New England marched into camp at Albany to join the British regulars on their way to fight the French. The tune was known in New England before the Revolution as "Lydia Fisher's Jig," a name derived from a famous lady who lived in the reign of Charles II, and which has been perpetuated in the following rhyme:

Lucy Locket lost her pocket, Lydia Fisher found it; Not a bit of money in it, Only binding 'round it.

The appearance of the troops called down the derision of the British officers, the hit of the doctor became known throughout the army, and the song was used as a method of showing contempt for the Colonials until after Lexington and Concord.

* * *

When life is old And many a scene forgot the heart will hold Its memory of this.

Fitz-Greene Halleck.

* * *

Rensselaer, on the east bank of the river, was incorporated in 1896 by the union of Greenbush and East Albany. The old name of Greenbush, which still survives in East Greenbush, four miles distant, was given to it by the old Dutch settlers, and it was probably a "green-bushed" place in early days. Now pleasant residences and villas look out upon the river from the near bank and distant hillsides. Two railroad bridges and a carriage bridge cross the Hudson at this point. During the French war in 1775, Greenbush was a military rendezvous, and in 1812 the United States Government established extensive barracks, whence troops were forwarded to Canada.

Albany, 144 miles from New York. (New York Central & Hudson River Railroad, Boston & Albany, West Shore, Delaware and Hudson, the Hudson River Day Line and People's Line.) Its site was called by the Indians Shaunaugh-ta-da (Schenectady), or the Pine Plains. It was next known by the early Dutch settlers as "Beverwyck," "William Stadt," and "New Orange." The seat of the State Government was transferred from New York to Albany in 1798. In 1714, when 100 years old, it had a population of about 3,000, one-sixth of whom were slaves. In 1786 it increased to about 10,000. In 1676, the city comprised within the limits of Pearl, Beaver and Steuben streets, was surrounded by wooden walls with six gates. They were 13 feet high, made of timber a foot square. It is said that a portion of these walls were remaining in 1812. The first railroad in the State and the second in the United States was opened from Albany to Schenectady in 1831. The pictures of these old coaches are very amusing, and the rate of speed was only a slight improvement on a well-organized stage line. From an old book in the State Library we condense the following description, presenting quite a contrast to the city of to-day: "Albany lay stretched along the banks of the Hudson, on one very wide and long street, parallel to the Hudson. The space between the street and the river bank was occupied by gardens. A small but steep hill rose above the centre of the town, on which stood a fort. The wide street leading to the fort (now State street) had a Market-Place, Guard-House, Town Hall, and an English and Dutch Church, in the centre."

* * *

I wandered afar from the land of my birth, I saw the old rivers renowned upon earth, But fancy still painted that wide-flowing stream With the many-hued pencil of infancy's dream.

Oliver Wendell Holmes.

* * *

Tourists and others will be amply repaid in visiting the new Capitol building, at the head of State Street. It is open from nine in the morning until six in the evening. It is said to be larger than the Capitol at Washington, and cost more than any other structure on the American continent. The staircases, the wide corridors, the Senate chamber, the Assembly chamber, and the Court of Appeals room, attest the wealth and greatness of the Empire State. The visitor up State Street will note the beautiful and commanding spire of "St. Paul." The Cathedral is also a grand structure. The population of Albany is now 100,000, and its growth is due to three causes: First, the Capitol was removed from New York to Albany in 1798. Then followed two great enterprises, ridiculed at the time by every one as the Fulton Folly and Clinton's Ditch—in other words, steam navigation, 1807, and the Erie Canal, 1825. Its name was given in honor of the Duke of Albany, although it is still claimed by some of the oldest inhabitants that, in the golden age of those far-off times, when the good old burghers used to ask the welfare of their neighbors, the answer was "All bonnie," and hence the name of the hill-crowned city.

* * *

Canals, long winding, ope a watery flight, And distant streams and seas and lakes unite; From fair Albania toward the fading sun, Back through the midland lengthening channels run.

Joel Barlow.

* * *

To condense from H. P. Phelps's careful handbook of "Albany and the Capitol:" in 1614 a stockaded trading-house was erected on an island below the city, well defended for trading with the Indians. In 1617 another was built on the hill, near Norman's Kill. The West Indian Company erected a fort in 1623 near the present landing of the Day Line. In 1664 the province fell into the hands of the English and the name was changed to Albany. In 1686 it was incorporated into a city. It was the meeting place of the Constitutional Congress 1754, the proposed Constitution of which, however, was never ratified. Washington visited it in 1783. The Erie Canal was opened in 1825, a railroad to Schenectady in 1832, the Hudson River in 1851, a consolidated road to Buffalo in 1853, and the Susquehanna Railroad to Binghamton in 1869. State Street at one time was said to be the widest city thoroughfare in the country, after Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington. The English and Dutch Churches and other public buildings, once in the midst of it, but long since removed, account for its extra width. The State Capitol has a commanding site. The old Capitol building was completed in 1808. The corner-stone of the present building was laid June 24, 1871, and it has been occupied since January 7, 1879. According to Phelps, "the size of the structure impresses the beholder at once. It is 300 feet north and south by 400 feet east and west, and with the porticoes will cover three acres and seven square feet. The walls are 108 feet high from the water-table, and all this worked out of solid granite brought, most of it, from Hallowell, Me."

The impression produced varies with various persons. One accomplished writer finds it "not unlike that made by the photographs of those gigantic structures in the northern and eastern parts of India, which are seen in full series on the walls of the South Kensington, and by their barbaric profusion of ornamentation and true magnificence of design give the stay-at-home Briton some faint inkling of the empire which has invested his queen with another and more high-sounding title. Yet when close at hand the building does not bear out this connection with Indian architecture of the grand style; it might be mere chance that at a distance there is a similarity; or it may be that the smallness of size in the decorations as compared to the structure itself explains fully why there is a tendency to confuse the eye by the number of projections, arches, pillars, shallow recesses, and what-not, which variegate the different facades. The confusion is not entirely displeasing; it gives a sense of unstinted riches, and represents the spirit that has reared the pile."

* * *

Nor let the dear love of its children grow cold Till the channel is dry where its waters have rolled.

Oliver Wendell Holmes.

* * *

The Governor's room, the golden corridor, the Senate staircase, the Senate chamber, the Assembly chamber, and the Court of Appeals room are interesting alike for their architectural stone work, decorations and general finish. The State Library, dating from 1818, contains about 150,000 volumes. The Clinton papers, including Andre's documents captured at Tarrytown, are the most interesting of many valuable manuscripts. Here also are a sword and pistol once belonging to General Washington. The Museum of Military Records and Relics contains over 800 battle flags of State regiments, with several ensigns captured from the enemy. Near the Capitol are the State Hall and City Hall, and on the right, descending State Street, the Geological Hall, well worthy an extended visit. The present St. Peter's Episcopal Church, third upon the site, is of Schenectady blue stone with brown trimmings. Its tower contains "a chime of eleven bells and another bell marked 1751, which is used only to ring in the new year." Washington Park, consisting of eighty acres and procured at a cost of one million dollars, reached by a pleasant drive or by electric railway, is a delightful resort. It is noted for its grand trees, artistic walks and floral culture. Several fine statues are also worthy of mention, notably that of Robert Burns (Charles Calverley, sculptor), erected by money left for this purpose by Mrs. McPherson, under the careful and tasteful supervision of one of Albany's best-known citizens, Mr. Peter Kinnear. A view from Washington Park takes in the Catskills and the Helderberg Mountains.

* * *

No wonder that his countrymen today, led by the Congress of this great Republic, celebrate the transaction and the scene where Washington refused to accept a crown.

William M. Evarts.

* * *

And now, while waiting to "throw out the plank," which puts a period to our Hudson River division, we feel like congratulating ourselves that the various goblins which once infested the river have become civilized, that the winds and tides have been conquered, and that the nine-day voyage of Hendrick Hudson and the "Half Moon" has been reduced to the nine-hour system of the Hudson River Day Line.

Those who have traveled over Europe will certainly appreciate the quiet luxury of an American steamer; and this first introduction to American scenery will always charm the tourist from other lands. No single day's journey in any land or on any stream can present such variety, interest, and beauty, as the trip of one hundred and forty-four miles from New York to Albany. The Hudson is indeed a goodly volume, with its broad covers of green lying open on either side; and it might in truth be called a condensed history, for there is no other place in our country where poetry and romance are so strangely blended with the heroic and the historic,—no river where the waves of different civilizations have left so many waifs upon the banks. It is classic ground, from the "wilderness to the sea," and will always be the poets' corner of our country: the home of Irving, Willis, and Morris,—of Fulton, Morse, and Field,—of Cole, Audubon, and Church,—and of scores besides, whose names are household words.

* * *

The Hudson's cable-tow of yore Bound gallant sire and sturdy son With hearty grasp from shore to shore For Robert Burns and Washington.

Wallace Bruce.

* * *



THE UPPER HUDSON.

Albany to Saratoga.

Delaware and Hudson Railway.

A pleasant tour awaits the traveler who continues his journey north from Albany, where the Delaware and Hudson train for Saratoga is ready at the landing on the arrival of the steamer. A half hour's run along the west bank gives us a glimpse of Troy across the river with the classical named hills Mount Ida and Mount Olympus. Two streams, the Poestenkill and the Wynant's Kill, approach the river on the east bank through narrow ravines, and furnish excellent water power. In the year 1786 it was called Ferryhook. In 1787, Rensselaerwyck. In the fall of 1787 the settlers began to use the name of Vanderheyden, after the family who owned a great part of the ground where the city now stands. January 9, 1789 the freeholders of the town met and gave it the name of Troy. The "Hudson," the "Erie," and the "Champlain" Canals have contributed to its growth. The city, with many busy towns, which have sprung up around it—Cohoes, Lansingburg, Waterford, etc., is central to a population of at least 100,000 people. The Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, the oldest engineering school in America, has a national reputation.

Cohoes, where the Mohawk joins the Hudson, has one of the finest water powers in the country. Its name is of Indian origin and signifies "the island at the falls." This was the division line between the Mahicans and the Mohawks, and when the water is in full force it suggests in graceful curve and sweep a miniature Niagara. The view from the double-truss iron bridge (960 feet in length), looking up or down the Mohawk, is impressive.

* * *

Oh, be my falls as bright as thine! May heaven's relenting rainbow shine Upon the mist that circles me, As soft as now it hangs o'er thee!

Thomas Moore.

* * *

Passing through Waterford, and Mechanicville which lies partly in the township of Stillwater, with its historic records of Bemis Heights and burial place of Ellsworth, the first martyr of the Civil war, we come to—

Round Lake, nineteen miles north of Troy, and thirteen south of Saratoga, near a beautiful sheet of water, three miles in circumference, called by the Indians Ta-nen-da-ho-wa, which interpreted, signifies Round Lake. The camp-meeting and assembly grounds consist of 200 acres. The air is pure and invigorating and the grove and cottages inviting. The drives in the vicinity are delightful to Saratoga Lake, to the Hudson River, to the historic battlefields of Bemis Heights and Stillwater.

Ballston Spa, thirty-one miles from Albany, is the county seat of Saratoga. Here are several well-known mineral springs, with chemical properties similar to the springs of Saratoga. Over ninety years ago Benjamin Douglas, father of Hon. Stephen A. Douglas, built a log house, near the "Old Spring," for the accommodation of invalids and travelers, and at one time it looked as if Saratoga would have a vigorous rival at her very doors; but its hotel glory has departed and the old "Sans Souci" of the days of Washington Irving is a thing of the past.

* * *

A gallant army formed their last array Upon that field, in silence and deep gloom, And at their conqueror's feet, Laid their war-weapons down.

Fitz-Greene Halleck.

* * *

Saratoga, thirty-eight miles north of Albany, one hundred and eighty-two miles from New York, is the greatest watering place of the continent. Its development has been wonderful, and puts, as it were, in large italics, the prosperity of our country. The first white man to visit the place was Sir William Johnson, who, in 1767, was conveyed there by his Mohawk friends, in the hope that the waters might afford relief from the serious effects of a gunshot wound in the thigh, received eight years before in the battle of Lake George, at which time his army defeated the French legions under Baron Dieskau. It was not until the year 1773, six years after Sir William Johnson's initial visit, that the first clearing was made and the first cabin erected by Derick Scowten. Owing, however, to misunderstandings with his red neighbors, he shortly afterwards left. A year later, George Arnold, from Rhode Island, took possession of the vacated Scowten House, and conducted it with some degree of success for about two years. Arnold was in turn followed by Samuel Norton, who failed to make the venture successful, owing to the outbreak of the Revolution. Norton was succeeded in 1783 by his son, who sold out in 1787 to Gideon Morgan, who, in the same year, made the property over to Alexander Bryan. Bryan became the first permanent settler after the close of the war. The prosperity of the village began in 1789, with the advent of Gideon Putnam, but the wooden inns and hotels of 1830, which seemed palatial in those days, would get lost even in one of the parlors of the mammoth hotels which now line the main street of the village. Chief among these hotels, we mention the—

"United States," a grand and princely building of noble frontage with a bright and spacious interior court, completed in June, 1874. It constitutes one continuous line of buildings, six stories high, over fifteen hundred feet in length, containing nine hundred and seventeen rooms for guests, and is the largest hotel in the world.

The American-Adelphi near at hand, also fronting Broadway, always cheery and delightful under the management of its popular owner and proprietor, Mr. George A. Farnham, has one of the finest locations in Saratoga, combining comfort, good attention, a fine table, and every convenience of a first-class house. One thing is sure, those who go to the "American" return again and again.

The Speedway, the Race Track, and Driveways.—Saratoga can justly feel proud of her material growth and progress in many directions during the last decade, and prominent among her varied attractions are the Speedway and Race Track. Mr. W. C. Whitney and many other prominent men have contributed liberally in this direction. The Electric Line to Saratoga Lake is also one of the features of the village, and furnishes a delightful forenoon or afternoon's outing.

* * *

And boyhood's love and fireside-listened tales Are rushing on your memories, as ye breathe That valley's storied name,— Field of the Grounded Arms.

Fitz-Greene Halleck.

* * *

The Springs.—The most prominent springs in and about Saratoga are the Hathorn, the Patterson and the Congress. The popularity of the Hathorn is attested by the universal sale of its bottled waters throughout the United States. The Patterson has won a wide reputation which its excellence deserves.

Historic Saratoga.—But in the midst of this throbbing, gay and delightful Saratoga, we must not forget that it was here the fathers of the Republic achieved their most decisive victory. The battle was fought in the town of Stillwater, at Bemis Heights, two and a half miles from the Hudson. The defeat of St. Leger and the triumph of Stark at Bennington filled the American army with hope. Burgoyne's army advanced September 19, 1777. The battle was sharply contested. At night the Americans retired into their camp, and the British held the field. From September 20th to October 7th the armies looked each other in the face, each side satisfied from the first day's struggle that their opponents were worthy foemen. The Americans had retaken Ticonderoga and Lake George. Burgoyne had no place to retreat, and the lines were slowly but surely closing in around him. October 7th Burgoyne commenced the battle, but in half an hour his line was broken. He attempted to rally his troops in person, but they could not stand before the impetuous charge of the Americans. He was compelled to order a full retreat, and fell back on the heights above Schuylerville. The Americans surrounded him, and he surrendered. It was a decisive victory, and cheered the friends of freedom, not only in America, but in the English House of Commons.

* * *

The leaves were red with crimson And then brave Gates did cry, 'Tis diamond now cut diamond, We'll beat them boys or die.

Ballads of the Revolution.

* * *

Mount McGregor, where General Grant died, associates the Saratoga of the Revolution with the story of our Civil War. Near the monument to the old heroes at Schuylerville, where Burgoyne surrendered, a monument to the Boys in Blue was dedicated in 1904. It was the privilege of the writer to be the poet of the occasion, and in his lines "The Flag They Bore," to bind the noble memorials of those who made and those who saved the Republic.

Two monuments in triumph stand To catch with joy the morning sun, One chorus joins them hand in hand— Heroes of Grant and Washington.

And wider yet the chorus leaps! Two famous hills the song unites, As Mount MacGregor's anthem sweeps Across the plains to Bemis Heights.

In Nathaniel Bartlett Sylvester's book, entitled "Historical Sketches of Northern New York and the Adirondack Wilderness," we learn that the earliest date in which the word Saratoga appears in history is 1684, and was then the name of an old hunting ground on both sides of the Hudson. Its interpretations have been various. Some say "The Hillside Country of the Great River;" others, the place of swift waters, while Morgan, in his "League of the Iroquois," says the signification of Saratoga is lost.

Whatever the origin of the name whether from the old High Rock spring or a "reach of the river," one thing is sure: Saratoga is the most attractive point in the country as a gathering place for conventions and large meetings, and, in response to the growing demand for adequate facilities, a splendid convention hall, with a seating capacity for five thousand people, has been erected by the town authorities. It is a striking architectural addition to Saratoga's attractions.

In 1907 over fifty thousand "Knights" gathered here and were hospitably entertained.

* * *

And such were Saratoga's victors—such The yeoman-brave, whose deeds and death have given A glory to her skies, A music to her name.

Fitz-Greene Halleck.

* * *

Saratoga to the Adirondacks.

The Adirondack Railway division of the Delaware and Hudson furnishes one of the pleasantest excursions to the north woods. The traveler passes along the romantic and picturesque valley of the upper Hudson—through King's, South Corinth, Jessup's Landing to Hadley (the railroad station for Luzerne, a charming village at the junction of the Hudson and the Sacandaga); then through Stony Creek, Thurman, thirty-six miles from Saratoga Springs, at the junction of the Schroon and the Hudson; the Glen, forty-four miles; Riverside, fifty miles (for Schroon Lake), pleasurable throughout, to North Creek, where "Concord coaches" and patent-covered spring buck-boards are in waiting for Blue Mountain Lake—distance about thirty miles, through a beautiful romantic country.

The water route from this point is as follows: Through Blue Mountain Lake and Utowana to the outlet, a distance of seven miles, where a "Railway Carry," something less than a mile, brings the traveler to a fairy-like steamer on Marion River. The river trip is twelve miles to Forked Lake.

Arriving at "Forked Lake Carry," one-half mile brings us to Forked Lake, where the traveler gets his first real mountain bill of fare. From this point we took a guide to Long Lake. There is a short cut from this point over to the Tupper Lakes, which we can commend in every particular, and the tourist can either return to Long Lake and continue his route to the Saranacs, or go to the Saranacs direct from Lake Tupper.

From this point we visit Keene Flats, a charming and healthful spot, only five miles from the "Lower Ausable Pond." These ponds, the "Lower" and "Upper," are unrivaled in beauty and grandeur. They lie at the foot of Mount Marcy, Haystack, the Gothics, and Mount Bartlett.

* * *

'Twas in the mellow autumn time When I, an idler from the town, With gun and rod was lured to climb Those peaks where fresh the Hudson takes His tribute from an hundred lakes.

Charles Fenno Hoffman.

* * *

Saratoga to Lake George.

The traveler will find trains and excursions to suit his convenience from Saratoga to our fairest lake. His route takes him through Gansevoort and Fort Edward to Glens Falls with the narrowing and bright-flowing Hudson for a companion. About one mile beyond Fort Edward Station, near the railway on the right, stood, until recently, the tree where Jane McCrea was murdered by Indians during the Revolution. From Glens Falls the tourist proceeds over the well-conducted Lake George division of the Delaware and Hudson, and soon finds himself in the midst of a historic and romantic region. About half way to the lake stands a monument to Col. Ephraim Williams, killed at the battle of Lake George in 1755, erected by the graduates of Williams College, which he founded. Bloody Pond, a little farther on, sleeps calm and blue in the sunlight in spite of its tragic name and associations, and soon Lake George, girt-round by mountains, greets our vision, stretching away in beauty to the north.

Near the railway station on the ninth of September, 1903, a monument was unveiled commemorating the battle of Lake George one hundred and forty-eight years before. The monument embodies the heroic figures of Sir William Johnson and King Hendrick the Indian chief. It represents the Indian chief demonstrating to General Johnson the futility of dividing his forces. Governor Odell of New York, Governor Guild of Massachusetts, Governor Chamberlain of Connecticut, and Governor McCulloch of Vermont and others delivered appropriate addresses.