^ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. # ||hHp.tlii lapsngW |o t # ■ # ! UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.! fJV/-^ U 1- riw > « ♦ > < NEWBURGH, N. Y. : 4 ]2. M. IIUTTKNBKU A' SoN, PeINTKRS LS73. 7.3^ l^ Entered according to Act ot Congress, in the year 1873, BY LEWIS BEACH, In tlie Office of the Librarian of Congreso, at Waahiugton. Mriefiaxr, 'PiiK j^Mowin^- popularity ol" ('ornvvall has created a want wliicli the ti)ll(>wing- paoes arc desioned to supply. For a long' tiiru', the writer has had it in view, to prepare a wt)rk some- what siniihir to the one now |)resent(^d, Imt of a more coniprc- hensive eharaeter. It was not, however, until the (?arly part of tlie Spring- just past, that the undertaking-, upon the earnest solicitation of vahied friends, was beg-un. The short interval tliat lias siiK-c elapsed, i-onpled with the pressure of other en- g-agemiMits. has not ])erinitted the bestowal of the attention and pains necessary to a proper treatment of the subject. The ma- terial at hand was not only rich but abundant. Cornwall was to be spoken oi' — the salubrity of its air — the diversity of its scenery — the fruitfulness of its soil — the beauty of its Lakes — the grandeur of its mountains — the quiet splendor of its dales — the maguilicence of its slopes and ridg-es — the superiority anil al)undance of its water — its economical advantages— man- iilacturing- facilities — mineral developments and agricultural re- j^onrces^ — its Revolutionary associations, and wealth in historical and traditional incident. These, and other topics of kindred nature, promised to engage the pen. The labor involved in the task propos(Ml formed a serious obstacle to its more early com- mencement. Ancient records had to be consulted, and, unfortu- nat(dy, they were scattered in ditferent localities — in the archives at .Vlbany and the lil>raries at New York— old newspaper tiles had to lie run over — numuscripts and letters had to be read and siftcd^personal interviews with that mythical individual, "the oldest iidiabitant," had to be made — the Mountains had to be ex- PEEFACE. iv plorcd — tlie Lak<'s visitod — forests poiietrated — streams traced — caverns pierced — glens entered — springs tasted — rocks ex- amined — relii's siuvey(>d — roads traversed, and tlie way-sider (|n('Ktioned. All these pre-reqnisites to the work in hand, have lie<'ii met, iind the result is now submitted to the reader. Tn placing it before the public, the writer begs to acknowledge the valuable aid he has received in all quarters. To avoid in- vidious distinctions, where all, to whom resort for information has been made, have acted so generously, mention of particular names is forborne. The work is resp('ctfully dedicated to the people of Cornwall, in whose interest it has been prepared, and to whom the writer is largely indebted for many favors and acts of kindness during his residence among tluMii. LEWIS BKACH. CoRxvvAM,, July, 1873. |ii5itorii. History tells us that uu the eve- ning- of the 14th of September, 1609, that intrepid navigator from whom our noble Hudson takes its name, fur- led the sails of his vessel, the Half- Moon, and came to anchor near what is now known as West Point. For jthe Hrst time, the eye of the white nuui scanned the beetling cliffs and cloud-capped peaks of the Highlands. In fancy we see the Explorer as he paced the deck of his little ship, in the dim twilight of that autumnal eve, with all the virgin beauty of wood and rock about him. It was, in truth, a scene for the eye of the Artist. To the Discoverer, it had but inferior charms. As he turned from the view to the bold head-lands before him, which seemed to bar his further progress, his heart must have sunk within him. For the third time, he had crossed the seas in search of a north-east pas- sage to the shores of Asia. The river, wliose ascent he had begun the preceding day, had, with its deep and broadening waters, flattered the hope that the object of his ambition was about to be realized. Now, as the shades of night gathered around him and he saw that river narrow to the semblance of a mountain lake, serious misgivings must have occupied his mind. How- ever, on the morrow, he continued his vcjyage, and passing the Highlands, again cast anchor, taking in his view the broad bay before him and its semi-circling shores, clothed in the rich hues of an autunni forest. After exploring the river as far up as where Waterford now stands, with saddened thoughts he re- traced his steps. A faithful account of the voyage has been preserved to us through the .b)urnal or Log-book of Robert Juet, who had previously acted as mate to Hudson, but was now TOWN OF CORNWALL. traveling" with him as roiujianidii. From tliis .loiuual it appears tliat, "On the nine and twentieth, at three of the clocke in the "afternoon, we Aveighed as soon as tlie ebV)e eanie, and tnrned "down to tlie I'dge <)f fhf movvfaive.s, or the northermod of the "monntaines, and anchored ; beeanse the highland hath many "points and a narrow cliannel, and liath many eddie winds. So " we rode quietly all nig'lit in seven i'athoms water. The thir- "tieth was fair weather, and the wind at the south-east ; a stiff "gale between the nionntaines. We rode still the afternoone. "The people of the country came aboord us, and brought some "skinnes with them, which we bought for knives and trifles. ''This is a n^nj plco'^anl i>!aci' to build a loirnr an. The road is "very neere and very good, for all wiiides save an east-north- "east winde. The mountaiiics look as if some metall or mine- "rall were in them. For the trees that grow on them were all "blasted, and some of them barren with few or no tr(M's on "them. The people brought a stone aboard like to an emery (a " stone used by glaziers to cut glasse): it would cut iron or "Steele, yet being bruised small and water put to it, it made a "color like blacke lead glistening ; it is also good for painters' "colors At three of the clocke they departed and we rode "still all the night." Thr first of October. — "In the morning EARLY HISTORY. "we weig-hcfl at seven of the clorke, witli the el)l)e, ami o-nt '•down heh)vv tlie mountaines, which was seven leagMiew." The (Mitry we have (luoted, contains tlie first allusion to the district of country now enil)racint;- Cornwall. It was whilst viewing- the inviting table-land of our Ilig-hland-terruce that the Journalist wrote : " Tlih i^ a n'rij plt^amrit place to build a " ToV'iH' on." The Indians who came on hoard the vessel M'ere doubtless what were subse(i[uently called "The Murderer's Kill Indians," and some little account of them may be proper in this connection. As early as 1625, a sub-tribal chieftaincy of the the MixsLs, known as the Waorrnif'c/.s, are said to have occupied the region extending- from the Dans-kammer on the north to Stony Point on the south. The name of Waoranecks disap- peared from the records after that time, and we afterwards find the Indians of this section spoken of as "The Miu-derer's Kill Indians." That the change in name was owing- to some inci- dent that occurred on the creek in question, or to the action of the chieftaincy, during the tii'st Esopus war, appears probable from the fact that the crec>kis iirst called "The Murderer's," i.e. place of residence of the chieitaincy, on Van Der Donck's Map, (165(),) soon after the close of the war referred to. The sachem of the tribe, in IM:\ was Werepekes, and the principal chiefs, Awessewa and Maringoman. It was tin' latter whose name ajipears on the deed to (Tovernor l)ong-an of all the laml lying between Murderer's cree'k and Stony Point. ■-■'-> Mariug'oman's "castle" and Maringoman's " wig-- wam " are spoken of in ~-^^S^^^^^'^^%^iir the early deeds. The first was on the north end of the Schunemuuk moun- tain, on the south side of Murderer's creek, in the i present town of Bloom- I'Jng -( Trove, formerly a l)art of ('ornwall, and is jjarticularly described as l>eing; "opposite the house "where John McLean S TOWN OF CORNWALL. " iKjw (1756) dwells, near the said kill." He subsequently removed to what is called a "wig-wani," wliich stood "on "the north bank of >[urderer's creek, where Col. Matthews "lives." The location of the wig'wam was in the town of Hamptonburgh, on the ]joint of land formed l)y the junction of the Otter-kill and the (Irey-court creek, by which Murder- er's creek is formed. The name of tlie creek is thus not only taken directly to tlie head-quarters of the chieftaincy, but pauses there as thcnig-h it had written upon the palisades of the castle the identification, " The Murderers." * A short dis- tance south of the castle was the burial ground of the clan. Its ]>recise location is shown on tlu^ early maps. Evidences of Indian occupation have been discovered in the valleys adjacent to the Schunennndc mountain. Some years since, Mr. Joseph Sinsabaug'h, in excavating muck in the swamp near his residence, found various domestic im])lements of stone which were evidently the make of the Aborig-inees. The late N. P. Willis also ret'overed various relics on his place, among others a bust formed from lime-)-ock, of which lie wrote: "When "(Jopway, tlie Ojibeway chief, was here, on a lecturing excur- " sion, in 1S55, he examined it and the place where it was " found, and said, ' It is tli<' god of the winds and birds — Wassa- " ba-war-sin.' " The Waomnecks were a sanguinary tribe, as tiie name which subsequently attached to them woidd indicate. They engaged in the Esopus wars, and prol)ably, as hinted by Mr. Ruttenber,'j' in those at Fort Amsterdam. They also participated in those religions orgies which were held from time to time at the Dans- kammer, the promontory which stands to the north-western head of Newburgh bay, and which derived its name from the rites they celebrated. More than two centuries ago, this promontory was called, by some passing ski])per, "De Duyfers Dans-kam- * An explanation of the origin of the name of Murderer's creek, materially different from this, in given by .Judge Benson, who says that it is a corruption of the Dntch word "Martelaer"; that the early Dutch navigators, in di\'iding the river into "reaches" and giving to each a descriptive title, called the section from Fort Montgomery north through the Highlands, " Martelaer's reach" — a term signifying, •■contending, strug- gling sufTering," or difficult of navigatiim. The name attached itself to West Point and Constitution Island, as well as to this creek, surviving in the former to the days of the Revolution. This explanation is correct so far as original application is concerned, but it fails to elucidate the jioint. that the Dutch themelves, at a later period, recognized a different branch of the definition of the word " Martelaer " as applicable to this creek, signifying literally, " The Murderer's kill." but figuratively as applied to other points. t •• Indian Tribes of Hudson's River." EARLY HISTORY. 9 ,„e, I "_(The Devil's Dance-chambor). The Indian's (tocI was named Bachtanio, and tlic lioniao-c paid this deity was charac- teri/.ed by tlio early Dutch as "devil worship." Before dei)art- ing- on their hunts or engao-ing- in war, they would repair to the Dans-kannner, in quest of omens and to propitiate tlieir (iod. ,^^_-^_ "At these meeting's," says a paper describ- ing the natives of New Netiierlands, written in 1621, "conjurors act a i« wonderful part. These tumble witli strange contortions, head over liecds ; beat themselves, leap w i t li a hideous noise tliroug'li and around a large lire. — Finally they all raise a tremendous caterwaul- ing, when the devil ap- pears (they say) in the shape of a ravenous or harndess animal. The first betokens something" l)ad, the second, some- thing- good." Kinte-kaying was the Indian name for these rites. So strongly did they aftect the superstitious foreigners That the authorities ultimately forbade their observance within the circle of Eurcjpean occupation.' On the 15th April, 1685, all the land occupied or claimed by the Murderer's kill Indians, extending from the creek of that name to Stony Point, was ])urchased of them by Govenuu- Dongan. About the year 1694, this tract came into the posses- sion of Captain John Evans, by virtue of a grant made by Col. Benjamin Fletcher, then Governor of the province of New York. This grant was subsequently revoked as improvident, by the Earl of Bellomont, who succeeded Col. Fletcher as Governor of the Province. Captain Evans, in his petition to the Queen for redress (ITll) recited that he was "commander of the Rich- 10 TOWN OF COKNWALL. ■'luoud man-of-war In the year 1693, and was sent to attend tlie "province of New York in America, where he continued ahnost " six years and performed considerable service for the benefit "of that colony; that Col. Benjamin Fletcher, then Governor "of New York, in consideration thereof, and of five hundied "pounds paid to him by your petitioner, in lieu of his establish- "ed fees upon grants of lands, by letter of patent under the "great seal of tliat province, granted unto your petitioner and "his heirs, a large tract of unappropriated land called Murder- " er's creek, containing eighteeii miles in length fronting on " Hudson's river, and thirty miles backward, which had been " boug'ht by Col. Dongan when (lovernor of New York, from the "Indian natives, for seventy pounds. On which tract your pe- "titioner expended a great deal of money in clearing- several "places for farms, and planted several families of Scots and " Irish under annual rents, intending- to retire thither himself, "wlien there should be a happy and lasting peace." The peti- tioner then alluded to the injustice of the Earl of Bellomont in depriving- him of an estate for which "he had been offered ten " thousand pounds sterling " in England, and prays that the tract may be restored to him. From the report of tlie Lords of Trade, April 12, 1720, it appears that the petition was reported upon favorably, but no subsequent action was taken to reinvest Cap- tain Evans of his estate. This immense tract was subsequently farmed t»ut in small parcels, and the patents conveying the same, allude to the respective premises as part of the grant to Captain Evans, subsequently revoked. The statement in the petitit)n, that the ('aptain had expended " great sums of money in clearing severtfl places \'oy farms," and had planted "several families of Scots and Irish," must betaken with some allowance. The evidence is opposed to the truth of the statement. Several families of Scots were, indeed, located on the tract from whom he demanded rents ; but they were not planted l)y his hand. On the contrary, he was a trespasser upon their rights. The facts are, that one ('olonel Patrick Mac- (xregoric. a brave Scotchman, lead thither, in 1()84, a colony of his co)intrymen, purchased land, erected log cabins, cleared off forests and planted orchards. The statements made in a ix'titioii of Marg-arct, tlie widow of Col. Mac(ir('S'orie. on file EARLY HI8T0RY. 11 aiiioii.u- the hind pupcis at Albany, were abundantly proved, viz: Tiiat " Patrick Martireo-ovic,* the husband of the petitioner, to- "o-ether with her brother, David Toshuck, Laird of Minivard, in " lfi84, accompanied by twenty-tive others, emio-rated from "Scotland witii intent to settle in New Jersey; that they were "persuaded to settle in the province of New ^'ork by (xovernor "l)onji,an : that Governor Dongan promised and did "-rant them "license to purchase lands from the Indians, which they did, " and so settled themselves, their families and sundry of their "servants on the lands so purchased, and were not only the first "Christians that purchased and improved thereon, but also "peaceably and (piietly jtossesscd and enjoyed themselves dur- " ing- the terms of tlieir natural lives." The lands upon which they settled embraced a tract on both sides of Murderer's creek, "in the county of Orang'c." and hence in the orig'inal town of Cornwall, — a fact, the exact- ness of whicli will be admit- ted when it is understood that the boundary line of the coun- 'f ty at that time was not Mur- derer's creek de facto, but an east and west line intersect- ing the creek at its head of navigation which was then regarded as its mouth. On Plum Point, MacGreg'orie put up his dwelling, at a point shown by the accompanying diagram, and, in company with Toshuck, engaged in 1686 he entered the service of * Colouel Patrick MacGregorie came to this country with a uuinber of t'ollowers, in 1684, first landing in Maryland and then ijroceediug north to Perth Aniboy, in New Jersey. At the suggestion of" Governor Dongan in 1685, he removed to Plum Point, just above the Hudson Highlands, where he built a log house and engaged in the Indian trade. In that business he became master of the Indian language. In 1686, he was appointed Muster- Master General of the militia of the Province of New York, and was soon sent to com- mand a party to trade at Michillirnakiuac. They were caught on their way and carried prisoners tollontreal. By an order from the French government MacGregorie was releas- ed in 1687. and returned to New York. After that Governor Sir Edmund Andrus, employ- ed him in the command of a company against the Indians East of Pemaquid. In the tumult in New York. March 1691. between the government and the Leisler parties, Mac- Gregorie was killed, and was buried with public honors. He failed to obtain patents for the land he occupied above the Highlands which were granted to Captain Evans by Gov- ernor Fletcher. His family, after much tribulation, obtained the property mentioned in the text. — LossiNG. trade with tiie Indians, li 12 TOWN OF COENWALL. the State, leaving his family and trade in the eare of Toshuck, and the duty of issuing' a patent for the lands he had purchased, to (xuvernor Dongan. The latter neglected his trust; MacGrego- rie fell a victim to the Leisler revolution; a new Governor re- warded a favorite by granting the lands to Captain Evans. It may be proper to add that the MacGregorie family continued in occupation of Plum Point, ultimately receiving a patent thei'efor, initil 1727, when they sold to Thomas Ellison. ' The names of the several families composing MacGregorie's settlement, cannot now be ascertained. One MacCollum settled near him; William Sutherland, the presumed ancestor of the present Canterbui'y i'amily of that name, was another; and the name of Daniel Maskrig, in addition to that of Toshuck, also ap- pears. Toshuck died in 1687, as appears from an entry in the Council Minutes of the Province under date of December 3d, of that year, in the following terms: "Daniel Maskrig, late servant "to David Toshuck, late of the county of Orange, informing that "ye said Toshuck is deceased, and none having power to meddle " with his estate, it is in danger of being embezzled. Ordered, that "said Maskrig do take all ye Indian goods and all ye personal " estate which ye deceased died possessed of, into his custody " and iriake an inventory thereof, and that he dispose of ye In- " dian goods and receive ye indebtedness due l\v ye Indians, "and render a true account of what he shall do in the premises "herein to this Board by ye 1st of April next." What subse- quently became of Maskrig or the goods, does not appear from tlie Minutes referred to. Toshuck left a widow and a son, the latter a minor at the time of his father's death. The point at whicli he established liis trading post was (m the south-easterly slope of Sloop-hill. The cellar excavation of the building can yet be traced. One by one the actors in this pioneer drama drop out of the scene of their struggles into unknown places of sepulture,"^ leaving behind them tlie rticord of their ruin by Evans, and the iindoubted evidence that the present town of ("<»rnwall was the sit<^ of * About two years Bince, tiome laborers iu grading the lawn to Mr. WTiiteside's cottage, removed a large tree and beneath its roots they came xipon a human skeleton. The bones evinced a frame ot nnusual size. The skull, which is now to be seen at Mr. Whiteside's residence, has strong indications of Caledonian origin. The question naturally arises, were not the remains thus found, those of the Laii'd of Minivard. whose trading-house was not far distant V EARLY HISTORY. 13 the firsst European settlement in the county of Orang'e — a set- tlement the continuity of which whvS never broken. Tlie history of (Jornwall from the period we are speaking of down to that of the Revolution, is not unlike tliat of other lo- calities in those early days. From time to time, patents for tracts of land were secured, and new settlements made. Trees were felled, and clearances made and the plow started on its mission of industry. The numerous streams which had for ages coursed our mountain slopes in proHuent waste, became ready and willing instruments in the cause of civilization. Saw-mills and Grist-mills — the one to prepare shelter; the other, food for the settler — were erected at conveinent spots. They have pass- ed away with those whom they sheltered and fed. The remains of some of these former mills are occasionally met and but lew living persons have any remembrance of their existence. 14 TOWN OF CORNWALL. The Revolnticjiiary history of Cornwall is replete with inci- dents unsurpassed, in point of interest, by any that occurred elsewhere during the ever memorable struggle for National Independence. The thrilling adventures of spy and free-booter, of wliit'h the mountain passes were the scene — the earnest but rude attempts to close the river against the passage of the British vessels — the surprise of Forts Clinton and Montgomery and their gallant but unsuccessful defence by the militia of Orange and Ulster — the plottings of the traitor Arnold with their sequel — the sad, but merited fate of the accomplished Andre — these, each and all, have ever inspired the pen of the romancist, and form a page in American history over which the student loves to linger. A l)rief sunnnary nf the war, and the position of the contend- ing armies is necessary to a proper understanding of the subject. A plan for the campaign of 1171 had been suggested by General Burgoyne during a recent visit to England, and had been agreed to by the King. About the middle of June of that year Burgoyne was stationed at St. Johns with a force under his command of about eight thousand men, supplied with brass artillery and admirably appointed in every respect. The main part of tills army under Burgoyne was to advance upon Ticon- deroga, while a detachment under Lieutenant-Colonel St. Leger was to land at Oswego and sweep the Mohawk valley for pur- pose of ravage and i)lunder, and at the sume time to create a diversion as to the true object of the movement. Having captur- ed Ticonderoga, Burgoyne was to move down Lake Champlain and so on to Alltany where the expedition inidei' St. Leger was to re-join him. The British forces in the south at tiiis time were operating in the Jersevs, under the command ol' Sir William Howe. This REVOLUTIONARY HISTORY. 15 wily <^" of the enemy. As an additional pnjtection, they suggested that u couple of gun ships and row galleys l)e stationed conveniently near, and proper batteries be erected on shore. The idea that the enemy would attem))t to advance by land, was regarded as puerile, on account of (as they reported), "the passes through " the Highlands being so exceedingly difficult." The chain obstruction now spoken of, must not be confounded with the one subseipiently i)laced at a point I'urther up the river, between West Point and Fort Constitution, or that l»etween Plum Point and Pallopel's Island. The suggestions of the committee were favorably received, and immediate steps taken to put them into practical operation. The chain was made from iron taken trom the mountains of the present town of Monroe, l)ut at tiiat time a part of Cornwall, and having been transported in sections, was placed in position. The preparations were under the personal direction of (xeneral Putnam, upon whom tiie connnand of the Hudson had recently dcA-olved. He was ablv assisted in his REVOLUTIONARY HISTORY. 19 ettorts l»y (Jciicriil (icori^'c Clinton, wlio had just liccn rlccted undfU' the new Coiistitution, the first (Tovenior ul' New Voi'k, and who, theret'ore. coinnianded the militia of the State. (iovernor Clinton resided at New VViixl.sor. The house in wliieh he lived is still in existence, and is an object (tf reverence and interest lo tlie visitor. At the time of which we are speak- int;-, (the early tall of '77,) the defences of the Hig-hh'.nds con- sisted of — 1st, the chain obstruction across tlie r.ver at St. Antliony's Nose, with the boom and chevaux-(le-fri/,e ; and sec- ond, the ibrts — three in nnnd)er, and named Clinton, Montgom- ery, and (constitution. The action of the tide had repeatedly bioken the chain, but the damag-e had been repaired, and it was thoug'ht the obstruction was sufficient t\)r the purpose for which it was created. It is difficult for us at this day to appreciate the confidence felt by our ancestors in the security of a chain that went to pieces with the pressure of tin- water. If its strength had been tested by a British man-of-war, under full way, whicli fortunately it never was, their contidenci' would proiiably have received a severe shock. Forts Clinton and|Mont- "•omerv wer(> located on the west bank oi' the river, and Fort ("oiistitution on the east, to the south of Hull's Hill, and nearly opposite West Point. Fort Montgomery was first erected and was the larg-est, being capable of maintaining a garrison of 20 TOWN OF COENWALL. about seven hundred. Fort Clinton was ))laced on ground which connnanded Fort Montg'oniery, and was distant from it a rifle shot. It would hold a garrison of only three hundred men. Between the two forts, there was a deeyi i-avine, through which flowed a small stream, known on the ancient maps as Poplopen's creek. This stream was crossed by a rude bridge. The division line between Orange and Kockland counties, is now at this point, so that the site of Fort Clinton is in the latter, while that of Fort Montgomery is in the former county. At the time of the British attack upon these forts, Governor George Clinton was in command of P^ort Montgomery, and his brother James had charge of Fort Clinton. The full nund)er of men under their associate command did not exceed six hundred and were chiefly raw militia, who had been summoned in great liaste upon news of the expected attack. The only officer of any experience was Colonel Lamb, who had seen service in Canada, and now had a company of his artillerists with him distributed l)etween the two forts. It had been resolved, by Sir Henry Clniton, the British General, that the forts should fall through strategy. Accord- ingly, on the 4th of October, 1777, he dispatched an armament up the river, which proceeded as far as Tarrytown and there landed its forces. The object of this movement was to induce General Putnam to believe that Peekskill was the point of attack ; and it had the effect intended. General Putnam im- mediately sent oft' to the Highlands for reinforcements. The enemy marched several miles into the country, and then turning about, again sought the river, re-embarked in their vessels and, crossing the Tappan sea and HaverstiTiw bay, proceeded to Verplanck's Point, about eight miles below Peekskill, where a force of three thousand men was landed. The morning of the 6th opened with a heavy fog, and under its friendly cover Sir Henry crossed the river to Stcmy Point, with two thousnnd men, leaving the remainder of his forces to keep up a threatening move on Peekskill. The march on the forts was now taken through the narrow and circuitous defiles that skirt the southerly side of Dunderberg (Thunder-hill) mountain. These passes were obstructed with a shaggy forest, and numberless rocks aiid streams, which had caused the com- REVOLUTIONARY HISTORY. 21 iiiittoc <>r <;<'ii(M:iis, licton' iilliidcd to. to rcpoit tluit tlM'v were inipassaUlc to tlic ciiciiiy ; Inil tliriiii' this time (xoveriior Clinton was not asleep- He had lieen forewarned of the sailing- of the enemy's fleet up the I'iver, and to jtrocure infornuition of their destination, he had that morning- sent out scouts to watch tlu'ir movements. The scouts brought in word of the landing at Stony Point, and, Justly a)>])rehensive that an attack on the forts uiuler his comnuiud was to he made, he sent to (reneral Futnam for reinforcements, called to his aid the militia of the district, and pre])ared to make the best defence in his powt'r. The enemy were now within striking- distance of the forts. A scouting party of thirty from Fort Clinton had been driven back by their advance lines. It was innnediat(dy reinforced and stationed with a brass lield-piec-e on an eminence on Bear-hill, connnanding- the detile through which the enemy must pass. It occu])ied this position until forced from it l)y the fear of being- surrounded ; the enemy having detiled to tlie woods on i)oth sides. The tield-piece could not be removed, owing to the roug-h and rugged character of the g-round. It was therefore s])iked, and the ))arty retreated to the fort, under cover of the tire of a twelve-pounder with which Coloiud Land* had occupied a com- manding position. To the rear of Fort Clinton was a pond called Lake Sinsi])ink. The striy) of land between the lake and the ri^-er had been forti- c •> 22 TOWN OF CORNWALL. fied with an abatis, which seriously retarded th(i attack of the enemy. However, by four o'clock the skirmishers had all been driven into the forts. A momentary lull took place. It was broken by a summons to surrender. Governor ('linton had no intention of tamely laying* down his arms and abandoning liis trust to the enemy. He ho})ed, with the reinforcements for which he iiad sent and which he momentarily expected, to be able to hold the forts. He did not know at the time that his messeng'er to General Putnam had turned traitor, and his call ff)r assistance had failed to reach the ears for which it was intended. In an hour's time a determined attack was made upon both forts, and was resisted with equal determination. The contest was carried on hand to liand — the bayonet being- the principal weapon of offence and defence. The garrison Ibug'ht with a vig-or and resolution that lias extorted from the British historian the remark, that " their valor was exceeded by no other instance during- the war." But the odds were ag-ainst then), and, as night closed in. the English had control of the forts and were masters of the river })assage. The taking of Forts Clinton and Montgomery, iiad a depress- ing- effect upon the patriot army. Governor ('linton in his despatches to Head-qtiarters, attempted to palliate the calamity by recalling the bold and noble daring displayed l)y the garrison in the defence; but th(> fact still remained that the fortifications of the Highlands, which had been deemed of paramount import- ance, and had constantly engrossed the attention of the Com- mander-in-chief, were now in possession of the enemy, and no obstacle prevented the junction of their forces for which thej' had been striving. It is true, the victory had been gained — but with a heavy cost. Several of the most promising of the Brit- ish f)fficers had received their death wounds, and many of th(> rank and tile had been sent along to share their untimely fate Embittered by their loss, the assailants showed no mercy or quarter in the fury of their attack. The garrison wen; obliged to fight their way out of the forts, for they had resolved they would never surrender. Those tfiat escaped betook themselves to the mountains, and a few to the river, where boats in readi- ness, conveyed them to Peekskill. the Head-quarters of General Putnam. It is reported that (rovernor Clinton reached the liank REVOLUTIONARY HISTORY. -Jo just as a boat was |)usliiii<;' ott" witli fugitive's, loaded to tiic <;Miiiwak's. The l)()at was turned back to receive the (iovenioi', but lie declined entering", from fear tiie additional weig'lit woidd eiidang'er the salety of the whole. It was oidy after pressing' importunities, lu; was induced to take passage. A list of the men taken at Fort Montgomery has been pre- served, and it appears there were two hundred and thirty-seven that failed to make their escape. In looking- over the names, we find but few familiar in the annals of our present town. They mostly belonged to the militia of Ulster and (Jrang-t? county. The latter embraced principally the two regiments which had been org'anized in Cornwall at the outbreak of the war, then under the respective connnand of (Jolonel Zacha- riali Dubois and Colonel Jesse Woodhull, but their members are now larg-ely represented in the records of towns subsequently erected from the orig-inal precinct. The militia were reported by (iovernor Clinton to have acted with g-reat spirit.* Tliey lost heavily in the action. Indeed the entire district was tilled with the lamentations of those bereaved of husltands, fathers, and sons. It will lie remembered, certain frig"ates and galleys had i)een stationed immediately above the boom that was stretched across the river near the forts. An attempt was made to secure their escape, but owing to the adverse winds that frequently prevail at this point, it proved futile. To prevent their falling- into the hands of the enemy they were now set on tire, and burned to the water's edge. Forts Independence and Constitution were also evacuated. Th' enemy raised the chevaux-de-frize and chain in the river, and navig-ation was successfully opened to their vessels. Governor Clinton tarried but a short time at Peek- skill — only long; enoug-h. to concert measm-es with (reneral Put- nam for the protection of those living- near the Hudson, who woidd receive, as was naturally feared, the brunt of the enemy's veng-eance, as their vessels ascended the river. He then repair- ed to New Windsor and made haste tore-organize tlie scattered militia. In this effort, he met with but indifferent success, * The regiments engaged were : Colonel D\iboi8' and Colonel Woodhiill's, from Corn- wall: Colonel Ellison's and Colonel McClaiighry's. from New Windsor; Colonel Has- bronrk's, from Newburgh; three regiments from other districts, and Colonel Lamb's artillery. The regiments were by no means full. The Cornwall regiments were the last to leave the forts, and hence sitfleredthe most severely in killed and prisoners. 24 TOWN OF CORNWALL. not on account ot" any apatliy on the part of the defenders of tlie forts, but because the pressing duties at their homes and the threatening- danger tliat surrounded them, forbade any prolonged absence. " They come in the morning and return in "the evening," wrote the (Tovernor to the Council of iSafety. About three days after the fall of the forts, two men. on their way from Fort Montgomery, were arrested, on what is now call- ed the West Point road, by some of the advance guard station- ed near Canterbury. One of the men evinced great agitation, and carrying his hand to his mouth, placed something within it which he hastily swallowed. Among those to whom the fact was communicated was the then village dcjctor who suggested an effectual way of solving the suspicions to which the act of the man had given rise. An emetic was given and had tlie effect of bringing up a small silver bullet. The man seized it in haste and swallowed it again. He now refused a second emetic until Governor Clinton tln-eatened to hang him and let the doctor carvtj it out of his stt)mach. Upon being brought ag-ain to light, it was found to be ovu\ in form, hollow, and kept together by a small screw in tlie centre. It was opened, and contained, on thin paper, the following' note from Sir Henry Clinton to (xeneral Burgoyne: " Xous y voici " (here we are) and nothing between us and (rates. 1 sincerely " hope this little success of ours will facilitate your operations.'' The man was immediately tried by a court-martial hastily con- vened, convicted as a spy, and sentenced to l)e hung. The enemy's vessels were now in motion, and Covernor Cliu- ton, with his recruits marched forward, intending to protect Kingston (then called Esopus) at that time the seat of the State Legislature. The delays with which he met caused him to be too late. The British arrived aboiit two hours before him, and having landed and dispersed a small ixuly of militia that had collected to oppose them, set tire to the village in different parts, and then re-embarked on their vess(;ls. When (xovernor Clinton came in sight of the burning village, he ordered the spy who had been brought along, to l)e hanged at once, and he Avas accordingly hung upon an ap))le tree which stood near by. Well nigh a century has passed since the captiire of the Highland forts. They fell beneath the strategy and superior REVOLUTIONARY HISTORY. •25 prowess of tlic toe. No stain att;iclic(l to their ^•allaiil det'eiid- ers. 'I'lie jiul<;iiieiil of to-day eoiitirms tlie statinneiit of (Jeiieral (!]iiitoii i)i liis despatclies at the time, that " h(! liad done tiie "most ill his power to save tiieiii." Sliortly after their reduetion, the attention of the Oonnnander- in-eliief was uf^'ain directed to an elig'ii)h' site for "'uarding- tlie river and olistrnctin^' tlie navig'ation to the enemy's vessels, (reneral Pntnam was selected to determine the spot. He chose tlu^ present site of West Point, and the necessary ft)rtitications were hejJiin in 1778 and c;ompleted during' the following' year. They consisted of batteries and forts on the several eminences commanding' the river. Tlie principal ones wf the British forces in America, "and employed in an important l)ut hazardous enterprise, fell a "sacrifice to his zeal for his King" and country, on the second of " October, 1780, aged twenty-nine, universally beloved and "esteemed by the aiiny in which he served and lamented even " by his foes. His g'enerous sovereign. King (4eoi-g-e TTI, lias " caused this monumcjit to be erected." — Many matters coimec-ted with the Revolutionary history of ('ornwall, will be mentioned, incidentally, in the cdursc of the folldwing- pag-es, whilst speaking" of otlier to|)ics. BOUNDARIES AND LOCALITIES. IkpuiiilarifS ami Ifacalilnri The present town (tf Coniwall is l)ut u {"ractional part i)f tlie ancient town of the same name. An act of the Oolonial As- sembly, in 1764, divided the old town of (loshen into two pre- cincts, one of which nnder the name of Cornwall comprised the whole of the present towns of (-ornwall, Hie^hlands, Bloomiii"'- (xrove, and Monroe, and parts of (Chester and Hampton burg'h. It contained an area of about 128,000 acres, or 200 square miles. Oranu'c county at this time included the present connty of Hock- land, but on the north extended only as far as Murderer's creek, where it met the Ulster line. In 1*197, Rockland was detached and five towns in leister, (New Windsor, Newburgh, Wallkill, Moiitgotnery and Deerpark) annexed, whereby Orang-e connty became of its present dimensions. Tender the " Act for dividing the Counties of this State into towns,'' passed March 7, 1778, the old precinct of Cornwall was erected into a town by the name of New ('ornwall. The yjrefix of "new" seems to have met with small favor, for nine years afterward, it was provided, by the Act of ^[arch 3, 1797, that "The Town of New Cornwall shall hereafter be called, known and distinguished i)y the name of ('ornwall, any law, usage or custom to the contrary notwithstanding." There is on file, at the office of the Secretary of State, a map of Clornwall, vvhicli purports to have been made by Seth Marvin. The date of tiling is not given. It must have been about the time of the last mentioned act, as the boundaries correspond with the then existing ones. It is bounded on the north by I Ister county, on the south by Haverstraw and Hempstead, and on the west by the towns of Warwick and (roshen. The first disintegration occurred in the year preceeding the close of the last century. By act of March 23, 1799, Blooming- Grove and Chesecocks (named after an early patent) were 30 TOWN OF COKNWALL. taken from Cornwall and erected into separate towns. The name of Ciiesecocks was chano-ed, in 1801, to Southtield. and yet ag-ain, in 1808, to Monroe, in honor of James Monroe, who afterwards became 'President of the United States. The loss of so much territory still left a town of considerable proportions. It embraced an area of twenty-tive^ thousand acres, extending- from Mui-derer's creek on the north to Poplopen's kill, on the south. This included the whole of the historical region of West Point and Fort Montg-omery. It was divided physically by a lofty, rugg'ed, almost impassable mountain. This mountain, or rather series of mountains, is a link in the Taconic chain which traver- ses th(! easterly side of the river until broken thr(.)ugh by the Hudst)n, when it shoots to the south-west, passing- throug-h New Jersey and terminating- in Pennsylvania. At the point where the river divides it, the peak on the east bank is known as Break- neck, and that on the west as Storm-king-. Storm-king rises abruptly from the water's edge and ascends to a heig-ht of over fourteen hundred feet above tide-water. Out of its westerly side spring-s a succession of peaks of nearly equal height, which bi- sected the tcjwn its full width, from the Hudson's waters to the Monroe line. At either side of this dividing mountain were to be found thrifty settlements, with an outstanding population more or less numerous. The mountain was a practical barrier to all intercourse between the two sections. It is true, there was communication by means of a road which ante-dated the Revolution; but the circuitousness of the route, the rigidity of the grade, the narrowness and ill-condition of the road, rendered its use only embraced as matter of necessity. The character of the mountain range is such that a more direct and easy road was impossible unless built at an outlay, the bare mention of which excluded its consideration. For many years, the evils resulting from so unnatural an alliance were acquiesced in. The people of this cis-montane district were loth to part with the heritage of revolutionary incident which surrounded West Point, whilst the trans-montane residents opposed division from fear of losing- an important element of their strengtli. The inconveniences, however, in- creased with the increasing population. In 1865, an act was passed by the Legislature which created two election districts. BOUNDARIES AND LOCALITIES. 31 Before* this, tlic itlacc of lioldiiig" the auinial ti)\vii mcctinfi," was alternated between Hig-hlaiid F'alls and (-anterbury It was usual to charter a boat for the conveyance of voters from one section to tlie other, the land conmiunication beinj>,\ as before hinted, entirely inade(|uate. From time to time tlie question of dividing- tiie town was ag'itated, and during" the fall of the year last past, it resnlt' in (.ornwall and part in the town of Bh)oming'- (Irove. Salisbury is situated on the banks of the Otter-kill or Moodna, as the stream has been indiscriminately called. The growth of the place is due to the valuable water-power which has here been eccmomized. The large and tine Paper-mill at this point is the one formerly'owned by Mr. Seaverns, who was murdered by Buffum. at Xewburgh. not long- since. To the east of Salisl)ury is BETHLEHEM, so called from the church of that name which was tirst erected in 1130, and of which particular account will be g-iven here- after. During the Revolution, the American troops lay encamp- ed for some time near the church. To the south-east of Bethle- hem, l)ut reached by an nidirect road, we come upon .MOrXTAIX-VILLE, foimerly called Ketchum-town. The settlement, since tlie erection of a depot on the Short-cut for its accommodation, has made vast promises of development. It is prettily located, with a sweep of both the Kamapo and Moodna valleys, and by reason of its contiguity to the Cornwall Mineral Spring, is destined to occupy a prominent positi(jn in the group of villages which will sooner or later dot our plains. The cottage on the knoll, to be seen from the cars, and but a minute's walk from the depot, is the residence of ex-Superyisor John Orr. The building to the east of the track is the Flour-mill of Mr. Price, formerly owned by Mr. Orr. Mountain-ville, since the building of the Short-cut, has received a very liberal share (jf the pat- ronage bestowed by city visitors To those who prefer an inland view of dale and hill, and desire to live beyond the in- fluence of the river and yet within easy access to it, this place offers superior inducements. HIGHLAND-VILLE is the next settlement of any consequence in this part of Corn- wall. We now take the turnpike and travel eastward, or rather north-eastward. The road is Hanked on either side bv the cot- BOUNDAKIES AND LOCALITIES. 33 tages of oTir sturdy farmers, but wo meot with no settlement until we reach (UXTERBURY, which is by far the most considerable as it is the oldest settle- ment in the town. It is called after a place of the same name in the county of Kent, England. It is situated on the banks of a mountain stream which, finding its source in the hills beyond, empti(;s in the Hudson through the glen at Idle-wild, from which it takes the name of Idle-wild brook. P\)rmerly the water- power furnished by this brook was utilized by no less than ti\ e different mills ; but of late years, from some reason oi" other, probably the denudation of forest growth, it has become quite unreliable. The brick factory, now occupied by James Winne as a carpentry and joinery shop, was formerly used as a tan- nery. John Cromwell conducted the business for a number of years with considerable success, until the difficulty of procur- ing bark caused its al)and()nnient. The mill beside the Willow avenue bridge, was run by J. H. & W. Atkinson as a yarn and woolen-mill. The earliest settlement in this section was not where the present village of Cajiterbury stands. The first setthers located on the plain at the base of the mountains to the south. One of the earliest houses of whi<;h we have heard mention is that of Patrick Sutherland, which stood on the late farm of Justus Sackett. It was built of stone. No trace of it reniains. We have met but one living resident who remembers its existence. A stone, with the initials P. S. & W. S. and date 1747, cut in rude figures, which came from this house, can now be seen in tlie fence in front of Mrs Concklin's residence on Clinton street. The date on the stone probably indicates the time when the house was built. Canterbury is a neat and thriving village. It contains tour meat markets, two boot and shoe stores, two tinsmiths and plumbers, four first class country stores, a baker, two black- smith shops, two carriage factories, a tailor shop, a barber, a milliner, several cream saloons, a druggist, &c. In fact the varied wants of not only the permanent residents, l)ut the tran- sient visitor, can be supplied here, and at reasonable prices. There is also a village inn, which, under the management of Mrs. Moore, has acquired an extended and well deserved repu- 34 TOWN OF CORNWALL. tation. There are tive churches in Canter l)ury, of which par- ticular mention will he made hereafter. The CorniraU post- office is located at Canterl)ury, and at ))r('seiit is ke|)t l)y Mr. A. M. Hollett. At the northern entrance to tiie viUag-e, on tiie west of the road, is seen a nuniher of tasty cottages which, under the name of Artizan's Row, give a good idea of the thrift of our Cornwall mechanics. After leaving' Canterbury, in following the road to the river, about mid-way between AVillis-ville and Canterbury, we come across a cluster of houses, forming the place known as GARNER-Vir.LE. It takes its name from that of a colored man, recently deceased, who owned several acres of ground, bordering the road at this point. The houses are of a simple and plain character, owned and occupied in main by mechanics and laborers. A slujrt dis- tance further and we arrive at WILMS-VII,I,E, formerly known as the Corners from the fact that a (juadrivivm is here formed by the convergence of four roads. The present name is given it, in honor of the poet ^Vi!lis, whose home at Idle-wild was in .close propinquity. The rapidity with which this part of Cornwall has grown, can not be ecpialled probably by any other town in the State. A decade ago, there were but a few scattering houses. Now it is thickly settled and land sold by the foot. The prominent buildings at this point will be noticed in the proper place. Distant from Willis-ville some- thing less than a mile is Hl\ KK-SIUK. In early times it was called the Hollow, and tlien the Land- ing. A recent suggestion that these names shouhl stand aside for the more euphonious one of Kiver-side, meets our approval, and as such we will continue to call it. Formerly, when all the products of the interior sought tide-water at this point, a dri- ving business was done here. The building of the Erie road and Branches, and a home market by reason of increased popu- lation, have diverted or arrested this traffic. The only impor- tance River-side now enjoys, is the position it occupies as gate- way to our town for those who approach us by water. The ex- BOUNDARIES AND LOCALITIES. 35 pansion of tho settlement is forbid by natural laws, with which most of our readers are conversant. Retracing- our steps to (Canterbury we take the road for New- biu-gh, and a few minutes drive brinfz:s us to a collection of houses on tlH> westerly side of the road in the hollow. This is known as ROE-VILI-K, called after our townsman, Mr. James G. Roe, whose Glen- ridge House stands immediately to the west. The inhabitants are principally laborers, and the cottages, the result of their labor and frugal habits. Of late years, a tendency to draw this settlement up on higher ground and in towards Willow avenue, has been encouraged by Mr. Henry Hunter, who has opened a connecting road and placed his lands in the market in plots to suit purchasers. To the south-west of Roe-ville, but reached l)y the Montana Drive, is a small hamlet, MONTANA, which owes its existence to the mills of that name at this point. It consists almost exclusively of the homes of the mill operatives. —We have now brietiy reviewed all the settlements in Corn- wall, so that the reader may have a general idea of their situa- tion. There is no question more generally asked than the one: " Where is (Cornwall ?" There seems to be an ill-detined idea of the locality, not only among strangers, but among those who have been born and brought up near us. The general impres- sion seems to be that some particular hamlet, settlement or village is entitled to the name, whereas in fact Cornwall is the name of the whole town, embracing all the settlements we have named, and is a generic term with no exclusive right of pro- prietorship {'(l nimmtaiiis, I'er- tile plains, inviting- slopes, inuuense chasms, picturesque lakes, beautiful water-falls, silvery streams, with the noble Hudson laving- her feet, she possesses a diversity of land and water- scape unparalleled by that of any other town we know of. Of all the remarkable topographical features of our town, that which we may call THK ('(IKWVALl. HA^IN, is the most striking. To gain a complete i at the foot of Forge-hill. The Linen-mills are the first you meet, whilst the Paper-mills are further on. This is the MOOnXA DRIVE, and for wild, w^eird and picturesque surroundings, it is difficult to equal. The rt)ad has a serpentine course, and steals its way along the bed of the glen, annd tangling undergrowth and lofty trees. The cascade near the bridge at the foot of Forge-hill, is of remarkable beauty. But of these tilings we shall come to speak in another connection. 42 TOWN OF COKNWALL. emjjfritttir^. Among intelligent physicians now-a-days, there is a growing tendency to fulhjw the advice of the poet and " throw physic to the dogs." The "heroic" treatment of disease is found to kill more than it cures. Dosing and drugging are but seldom re- sorted to by the skilled physician. He relies for cure upon that ms preservatrix with which our mother nature has gifted the weakest of us. It is a strange fact, yet true, that the art medi- cinal, after two thousand years of experimenting, should work itself, like the sidereal bodies, back to the point in its orbit from which it started. The afflicted must learn to recognize this fact before they experience relief They must aband(ju the materia medica and adopt a more simple and reliable means of cure. Tlie stomach and the lungs are the mortara in which nature mixes her drugs. In all diseases, especially those of a chronic nature, proper food for the stomach, and fresh, pure air for the lungs, are the grand remedial agents. Witliout them no pro- gress can be made. In pulmonary complaints the great benefit derived from " air treatment" are of so marked a character that patients were ibr- merly invariably ordered to the Bahamas, the South, or the Lake Superior region. The air of these sections was found beneficial, and acted as a sedative to the wounded lungs, but the restorative process was interfered with by the compulsory return of the patient to the East. The calls of business, or the longing for home and its attachments, rendered a prolonged al)seuce impossible. Hence the permanent relief expected from change of scene and air, was not realized. About twenty years since, the poet, Willis, who was a con- iirmed cunsuujptive, happened to pass the sunnner at Cornwall. The symptoms of the diseas(> which had fasti'iied on him, under CLIiMATE AND TEMPERATURE. 43 the intiuencc of our mountain air became suddenly more favor- able. He was quick to detect the change, and, woo'd by the grandeur of our Highland scenery, he 8ecured a romantic site and erected the cottage which, under the name of Idle-wild, is known wherever the English tongue is spoken. Here he made his home, and in a series of delightful letters to the Home Jour- nal, with which he was at that time connected, from time to time informed a sympathetic public of the steps by which his health was restored. His conspicuous position in the world of letters — the change in his appearance, which his friends could not fail to observe — the seductive style in which he couched his experience — the word-pictures he drew of our Highland terrace — each and all contributed tiicir due proportion to that fame into which Cornwall suddeidy sprung. Others, similarly afflicted, soon followed and with similar results. Since that time the victims of phthisis by scores and hundreds have tlocked to Cornwall, generally under the advice of physicians, and have experienced the most favorable results. We could give any number of well authenticated cases of con- sumptives relieved, and not a few of perfect cures. Our present purpose, however, is with the cause of this peculiai- therapeutic property of Cornwall air. That there is something peculiar in Cornwall air, every one who has ever visited the place is free to admit. The tirst sen- sation is that of hanger — the second, sleep. For a number of years we have been in the habit of entertaining city friends in our Cornwall home. They have come, representing all condi- tions of health — some robust, some delicate — but in one respect they all agreed: in excusing their appetite at the table and in seeking the friendly embrace of the lounge after dinner. There is something remarkable in the uniformity of this testimony to the potency of Cornwall air. A good appetite and ability to sleep well, are the most encouraging signs of actual or return- ing health, and their appearance are hailed by the invalid with the most hopeful emotions. Our Cornwall air is not only peculiar in character, but limited in extent. Several winters since, we were in the habit of daily passing over the Cornwall and Newburgh road. A certain spot on the way, when reached, invariably attracted our atten- 44 TOWN OF CORNWALL. tion, as marking" a change in the air. However eng-ag-ed our mind might be, the crossing of tliis atniofipherw line avresied our thoughts. So confident were we of its existence that we fre- quently hazarded the remark, that we could be hood-winked and conveyed over different roads, with a view to deception, yet when that particuh^r spot was reached, we woukl know it. We made a note of the fact at tlie time for future use. We have since come across a letter of Mr. Willis, written twenty years ago, wherein he mentions the same phenijuienon. The coinci- dence of observation is easily accounted for. At the time of our first coming to Cornwall, we were afflicted with a long- standing throat complaint (now happily cured), which rendered our bronchial tubes, like the lungs of Mr. Willis, as sensitive to atmospheric change as is the galvanometer to the touch of the electric current. That the climate at any place should be vari- able within so circumscribed limits, is not at all remarkal)le. In California, a two hours' ride on a railroad (if built) from Stockton, with the thermometer at 100 degrees, would place the traveler (ju the sides of the Sierra Nevada, the region of eter- nal IVost. The line of which we speak, as marking the confines ol mountain air, begins at the river's edge a little south of Sloop-hill, and extends westerly to the Schuneminik range. You cross this line to tlie north, and yon breathe a difterent atmosphere. In accounting for the peculiar effects of Cornwall air, we are unwillingly led to the domain of speculation. We liave not, unibrlunately, any record of metereological observations which would furnish data for generalizations. Nijtes of the tempera- ture, the pressure of the barometer, the amount of rain-fall and direction of the wind, have never been taken for any continued or extended period of time. VVe are indebted to Mr. Ruttenber's history * for some remarkable facts upon this subject, which, although relating to Newburgh, are, nevertheless, by reason of C(un wall's propinquity (five miles) of interest. The returns made to the Regents of the University, embracing the observa- tions taken during a period of thirteen years, gave the average lem)>erature of Newburgh as 49:16, or a fraction of a degree colder than the temperature due to latitude and elevation. * " History of the Town of NewbiirRh." (ILIMATE AND TEMPERATURE. 4:, Sliiulbusli liluoiiis there six days earlier than in other portions of the valley of the Ihulson ; jK'aeh, eight days ; plum, liv<> days ; eheiry, eleven days ; iipple, eight days, and lilac, two days ; while the tirst killing frost occurs thirteen days later than at others. The early appearance oi' bud and hlossoin in the spring-, and the tardy approach of frost in tiie fall, are no doul)t owing- to the sheltered position of our Cornwall basin, of which Xewburg'h is the outer rim. We are hemmed in on all sides by ag-reeably distant and lofty mountains. The physical geog-rai)hy of the town exerts a marked intiu- ence upon her climate. Cornw^all is situated iii a valley which is a sort of oti-shoot of the Ramapo, up which the storm-winds of the ocean drive, laden with the purest and freshest of air. Sweeping- through the Moodna, they come to us in all their deli- cious sweetness, driving- before them, and beyond our limits, all impurities and poisonous exhalations. Now if we ascend the hill-sides, w^e gain the additional advaiitag-e of heig-ht above the sea-level and breathe an air chemically pure. An early question with all enquirers about our place, is as to the temperature in summer. Is Cornwall cool ? Our observa- tion upon this point prompts us to reply, that the noons at Corn- wall are probably a shade warmer than the latitude would warrant, but tne emnings and nights are almost invariably cool. It is at!ected by the same natural laws which influence the tem- perature of other basin localities. The air becoming- heated by the mid-day sun, rapidly ascends, and the valley-winds rush in to take its place, g-iving- rise to that delicious coolness of eve- nings for which the greater part of Cornwall is noted. We say the greater part, for there are some localities that fail, by reason of their situation, to g-et the full benefit of these winds, which usually blow fntm the south-west and north-east. The sun and wind, l)oth g'reat evaporators, tend to make our atmosphere a dry one. There are times, o\ course, when it is humid, but as a g-eneral thing- it is remarkably free from moisture, and especial- ly so as we ascend the slopes and reacli the mountain summits. If there is such a thing in nature as an air chemically pure, we have it in Cornwall. Tlie lofty range of mountains which mark our southern boundary, not oidy act as a barrier to the march of salt air, but form a screen against those raw and searching- 4H TOWN or COKNWALL. east winds which are as death to one witli weak lungs. The land shjping' on all sides and dipping towards a common centre, with a porous sub-soil, is a natural cullender, with no chance for that soil-moisture which is now admitted on all hands to be the cause of the typhoid state. The rivulets and brooks, leap- ing from rock to rock in their rapid descent to the river, with their pebbled bottoms, proclaim, in unmistakable language, the absence of malaria. ACCESSIBILITY. 47 ^i:ce.HHibiliti|* The three tiling's which conspire to g'ive Cornwall the promi- nence it enjoys are, 1st, The salubrity of the air ; 2d, The beauty of the scenery; and 3d, Its accessibility to the city. Upon the latter point we may say that Cornwall is distant about tifty-five miles from the city, and is reached eithcn- by rail or water. The water communications are numerous and, with two exceptions, unequalled by those of any other place on the Hudson. There; are eig'ht first class river steamers stopping- at Cornwall. At the head of the list stands the well deserved favorite, the Mary Powell. She leaves New York, foot of Ves- try street, every day at 3|, P. M., reaching- Cornwall about half- past six. She leaves Cornwall every morning- at about eight o'clock, arriving- in New York at eleven. Next comes the Rondout boats : the Baldwin and Cornell. One or the other of them leaves foot of Harrison street every day at 4, P. M., and Cornwall every evening- at 9^ o'clock. Then there is the River Queen and Walter Brett leaving- foot of Spring- street every day at 4| o'clock and Cornwall every eve- ning- at 9 o'clock. The four last named, the Baldwin, Cornell, Brett, and River Queen, are mostly eng-aged in freighting, but they are fine, large and fast steamers, with every accommoda- tion and comfort for passengers. The next to be mentioned are the Albany boats, the Chauncey Vibbard and Daniel Drew — both of them splendid boats and run by able, courteous officers. They leave foot of Vestry and 34th streets about 8, A.M.; return- ing- leave Cornwall about 3, P. M., and reach New York about 6 o'clock. There are two other steamboats touching at Cornwall, but as they are only intended for the accommodation of the river towns and way traffic, we forbear further mention. The above comprises the accommodations with ('ornwall by 4S TOWN OF CORNWALL. water. Tlie sail ui)tli(' river occupies aliout three hours, dei)ei)d- iug- somewhat upon the wind and tide. It- is needless, in this connection, to call attention to the delig-htful character of the trip. The scenery is unsurpassed by any in the world and each succee(lino- feature in the landscape, consecrated as it is by association with our Revolutionary history, furnishes an endless source oi" attraction. Coininunication with Oornwall by rail possesses like advanta- o-es. It is reached by either the Hudson Kiver Railroad, or by what is coiiuuonly called the Short-cut, a branch of the Erie, built some four years since. The route by the Hudson River road is not t(^ be reconnnended, under the present time-talile. Th<» only trains stopping at the Storm-king- station are slow ones and tedious. Then the crossing- of the river is effected in a row-boat which, thoug'h safe, is not attractive to people with weak nerves. A few years since a charter was obtained for a steam ferry-boat at this point, with the promise that all the fast trains would stop, during" the summer, at the Cornwall station. It has not as yet be(Mi established. Until it is, we would advise all who take the Hudson River road to continue on to Fishkili, there cross to Newburg'h, where they will find stages for ('ornwall (five miles distant) in waiting*. The route above all others for dispatch and convenience \s via the Erie Short-cut. It is the pleasantest because free from dust and the noisy concussion of the Hudson River road, and because of the broad-guage and luxurious coaches. It is the quickest, because it leaves the business man at his store or office. White Plains, thirty miles from New York, is further oft' to the business man than Cornwall at fifty-five. An hour's ride on the Harlem road followed by another hour's dandiny in one of the street cars, is far more tedious and trying" than two hours' ride on the Short-cut. The time between Cornwall and New York {not upper New York, but the business pait of the city, Cliambers street), is two hours. The trains are moved to suit out-of-the- city people, and for this reason there is no trai n/'rom the city until about 9 o'clock in the morning", and this is a slow train, not reaching" Coiiiwall until about noon. Reg"arding" the time-table irom Cornwall, we have all that could be desired. Two fast trains leave ('ornwall every day at about 7 and S, A. M., reach- ACCESSIBILITY. iw iiig' New York aliont 9 ;nul 10, A. M. Kctmiiiiiu-, leave the city at lialf-past tliree and four, P. M., reaching Cijnivvall bel'ore six and seven, P. M. Wv do not pretend to be (!xact. as some modifications in the time-talih- are mach' each season, and the time and point of (h'partnre in the city f<»r the boats is occa- sionally altered. The arrangements wc have given are those that liave prevailed for several years past and are likely to continue with increased facilities.* The information is furnished for the benefit of those in the city whose first question is, " How am I to get to Cornwall .?" Whilst speaking of thv jn'esmf accessibility of Cornwall, we wotdd be doing our town an injustice, were we not to alhule in brief to the /'(/i*'/r. The building of the West-shore railroad may be looked upon as a certainty. It is oidy a matter of time. Operations on the tunnel at West Point have been prosecuted for a year })ast, and the present indications are favorable to an early com])letion ot the road. Mr. Courtney, the President of the road, has recently jturchased for a residence the villa prop- erty at Cornwall, known as Idle-wild, formerly the home of the poet Willis. The \\'est-sliore road is to be built and etjuipped entirely ditferent from any other railroad in the country. The ruling idea in its construction will be to increase the rate of speed, having it appioximate if not exceed that which prevails in England. With this object in view, we are told, a train ol' cars and engine modeled after the English vans, have been ordered, and when the road is built, they will be placed on it between Newburgh and New York as a "buzzing train," run- tiing several times a day and making the distance between Cornwall and the city within an hour. * The time-tables for the current year will be fouud iu the Appeudix. 50 TOWN OF CORNWALL. |.i«rinQ. The Cornwall Mineral Spring- is situatod in a deep gorge of the mountain, at an altitude oi' many hundred feet above the plain beneath, less than two niile« from the Mountain-ville depot, and about five miles from Canterbury. The road by which it is reached after leaving- the turnpike, is -rather precipitous, and in a barely passable condition. Like other mountain roads in this vicinity, owing to the wash as well as the hauling of heavy loads with locked wheels, it is difficult to keep in repair. A slight alteration in the line would ease the grade and make it a capital road. However tedious the ascent may be to the " fast people of a fast age," the patience of the tourist is amply re- warded when the summit is reached. Here a view of almost unparalleled scope, beauty, and grandeur strikes the observer. A plain of boundless extent, dotted with trees, houses, and waving grain " white unto the harvest," lays stretched out at the feet as a map, whilst the grassy slope, rising in the dis- tance up to the very crown of the verdure-clad Schunemunk and Shawangunk mountains, almost weary the eye with the immensity of its range. Paltz-point and the Sullivan region can be plainly discerned on a clear day. The Spring is approached over a grass-grown path, through a forest, the density of whose foliage efiectually excludes the sun. Even before you near the spot, the fall of distant waters comes gently to the ear, in tunely keeping with the waving branches and chirping songsters of the grove. As you wend your way over the tortuous path, through the copse-wood, shut in by trees and rocks from the outer world, a sense of solitude steals over you, and makes you feel, in the words of the lamented Willis, " Alone ! alone ! how drear it is, Always to be alone !" MINEKAL SPRING. 51 The waters whose muriiiur we just lieanl — ^tlie living' waters are now seen leapini;' from rock to rock ; the roeks I'orininj;" a g'igantic stair-way, wliieli nii}i;lit have served sitine Titan of old to reach his casth' on tin- hill. A few rods IVoni the pool at the base of tliese stony stairs, a small rocky basin is formed by the hand of nature, and HIUmI to the brim with th(,' nn'neral water. Choked up with leaves, with no (nitlct, your first eftbrts will be directed to clearing the Spring-, which a moment's work with a convenient twig- will accomplish. Now for a draught ! The water is deliciously cool ; that, too, when it is taken from the surface as it oozes out. Lower the Spring by sinking it into the earth, and yon would lower the temperatnre several degrees more. The taste is strongly astringent, giving uiunistakable evidence that iron is the predominating element. You also get an almost unappreciable touch of snlphur, and a vivid imag- ination might detect its peculiar odt)r. However this may be, there are certainly well defined traces of snlphur in the Spring and all about it. The leaves, the ground, and stones, are all stained with an ocherous color, suggestive of the abode of the p]vil One with the cloven foot. A cup left in the water for a few days, will become dyed with a beautiful color impossible to remove. We had intended furnishing an analysis of the water in the present edition of this work, and for that purpose had placed a specimen in the hands of Professor Endemann, the able and expe- rienced chemist to the Board of Health in New York. After waiting some time for the result of his labors, we were told the quantity sent was insufficient for a quantitative analysis. He writes us, however, that the water contains 9.57 grains of salts in one gallon. "It is especially rich — and that is notable — in phosphate of soda, silica and bi-carbonate of iron." Those fa- miliar with the analysis of similar waters, will be forcibly struck by the uinisval preponderance of the mineral Kails, and when it is remembered that the virtue of any chalybeate water depends not alone on the amount of iron, but its combination with the phosphate of soda, an idea may be had of the value of the Cornwall Mineral Spring water as a therapeutical agent. Pro- fessor Endemaini asserts, that the water has all the constituent elements of the celebrated Concord Sjiriiig waters, which have 52 TOWN OF COKNWALL. perfbrmcd .sucli marvellous cures in cases of consumption. Ac- cording to Professor Chanler's analysis, the Concord ^>pring contains but 5.9 grains of solids in one gallon. The Cornwall Spring has the same mineral ingredients. These waters arc not without a local reputation, 'fhey have long i)eeii favorably known i\)r their curative properties. Tradition affirms that the Indians were in the habit of resorting to them for their healing powers. During the building of the Xewburgh Branch of the Erie Railroad, the laborers engaged in its construction, were seized with an opthalmic affection, which assumed the i'orm of an epidemic. At the instance of Henry F. Chadeayne, Esq.. ot Canterbury, they were induced to try the mineral waters, inter- nally and as a lotion. The effect was almost miraculous — a cure resulting in a very few days in every case. Numerous other instances of well accredited cures, in diseases requiring tonics and mild alteratives, have been brought to our attention, but to mention them in detail is beyond our present purpose. We content ourselves with citing the general effects produced from drinking the water. Why it is so, we are unable to say. The similarity it bears to the Birch Dale Springs would indicate that the properties of the two waters are identical, and the mar- velous cures reported of the one, can easily be effected by the other. Judging from this standard, we should say that the Cornwall Mineral Spring will be found invaluable in the treat- jnent of consumption, scrofula, rh(>umatism, dyspepsia, diseases of the liver, kidneys, urinary affections, and all diseases origin- ating in an impure state of the blood. The practical conclusions to be drawn from what we have said, are, that Cornwall possesses, in this Spring, an attraction which can, under proper managenuMit, make her equal, if not excell, Saratoga. Let us briefly state our reasons : The first advantage is the superior accessibility of the Spring io Metropo- litans, being within two hours' ride by rail and three by water. Second — The surpassing coolness and salubrity of our mountain air, which has become so noted all over the country that physi- cians now send their patients here instead of to the Superior re- gions. We have here now, families from Missouri and Louisiana, recommended l)y their local physicians. Third — The medicinal value of the min(!ral water. I'nlike the sulphur s|)rings of Cana- MINERAL SPRING. 53 da, Virg'inia, and other |)arts, tlie water is >sn nd lihitinn without producing' tiiat sense of oppression wliicli the <>"ases in Congress water ahiiost invarialtly i)roduce. Fourth — The remarkable beauty of the surrounding scenery, and the g"randeur of the g'rounds ininiediately adjac(Mit to the spring. It would be difficult to describe the latter. Nature has done everything- here, leaving' nothing for art. A more weird, picturesque spot it would be difficult to find, Hug-e, massive boulders massed up on all sides in rough fantastic shapes ; here forming a ca\e, there a grotto ; the trackless mountains to the south ; the clouds stupendous overhead ; the joyous birds in the branches ; the gently sighing wind ; the tangled coppice ; all attend to produce a scene that a city eye would revel in. o4 TOWN OF CORNWALL tK! 411^ QriTE a miiiiber of feet above tlie Hnw nf tli(> lludsdii. in tlic i'iig'p:ed and jivecipitons lireasl-tioiie <»!' "nld (Jro'-iicst." was dis- covererl, in the fall of ISTO. a Iniuc caxcvn, wliicli tVnin its situation and tln' furimis M'inds that prevail in the Hi^dilands, may liave li(>en tlie alxxle of tlie .Eolian kin,i;'. The lines of Vir.Li'il will al once lie suu'^'ested to every I'cailer of the poet : -Hie vastro rex ^Eoliis antm Luctantes ventoK, tempestatesque sonoras Iinperio premit, ai' vinclis et ttarcerp fra^nat." It reipiires no o-yeat stretch of the imag-ination to fancy the exasperated Jnno traversing- the waters of the Hudson, instead of those of the Mediterratiean, and coming- to the top of old "Gro'-nest," instead of the land of Sicily. CRO'-NEST CAVE. 55 But layiuji- rumiiucc ;iimI poetry aside, tlic discovery of tlie cave ill (lucstioii was an eveiil of considerable iiii|»ortaiice. Its pai-tiul exploi'atioii has already led to revelations oj' an mter- estint;- kind, and a more tliorouiili examination may throw additional li^'ht upon a period in our history which always enchains the attention of the reader. At the time referred to, a party ol' villai;-ers paid a visit to the cave, and whilst within the dark and dreary chanilier. came a(;ross several coin, three of which are in our possession, and are worthy of a detailed description. Twt> are of silver and the rtMuaining- one of copper. The silver are evidently a Spanish six-pence and siiilliug-, being about the size, as well as we remember, of those coin. The inscription is th(> same on (>ach. The obverse pres(!Uts a head with the marginal words: '•Carolmlll * Dei gratia * 1782." The reverse has the well known inllar of Hercules and the in- scription, '' Bispan ef Ind. re.ry The copper coin is of the size of an old fashitmed cent, and has on the obverse a rnde represen- tation of a horse's head above and a primitive plow beneath. The horse's head, however, is something like the cow the Frenchman drew. For fear it might be taken for some other aiumal, he wrote beneath, "This is a cow." The plow is ol' the kind used anterior to the improvement in the mould-board by Jetterson. There are two stilts, an upturned beam, with an old fashioned coulter beiu-ath, and at the end a set of whittie- trees. Th(! inscription, ''Nam Cesarea,'' encircles the horse's head. The reverse has a heart-shaped shield with the words, "E jihirihm iniam:' rnfortunately, the date of the coin has been effaced. It is one of what is known to numismatists as the "New Jersey cent." issued while that state was one of the provinces of Great Britain. Taking the date of the silver pieces, we have the fact eslal>- lished that they were deposited or left in the cave snbse(pient to the year 1782. When and l«y whom r It could not have been by the Revolutionary refugees, who fre(piently s.mght such places for concealment at times, for the war was ended and amnesty proclaimed. It could not have been by "spies" or "look-outs," who occasionally occupied the mountain tops, for with the treaty of peace their occupation, like Othello's, was g-one. It may have been by free-booters, or by some anchorite 56 TOWN OF CORNWALL. miser, in either of which case, the probability would be in favor of additional treasure being- found on further search. Nor can they be relics of the famed Captain Kidd, for althoug"h many an one recalls the familiar cognomen, "Kidd's Pocket-book," so long- localized here, and although that great marauder has fathered so much mythical treasure-trove that any theory which associates Ins name with it is the most likely to be received by the mass of people, the fact remains that he expiated his offen- ces on the gallows an hundred years or so before these coins were minted. Besides the coin, other interesting relics, and specimens of the cave formation, were brought to light. One of the party returned with a g-ood-sized specimen of mica (the isin-glass of commerce), which he had broken from the side of the cave. The (quality was inferior, being of a crumbling- nature and of a dark brown color. It is probable that it exists in large (luan- tities, when we consider the formation of the mountain granite. Another of the party brought back a stalagmite of good dimen- sions. Mr. P^)ley found a stone in which are strong traces of lead. Mr. Baulsen picked up, on the floor of the cave, a bone. which has every appearance of having belonged to the human frame. The re-discovery of this cave, after the lapse of so many years — for it was well known anterior to as well as during the Revolution- — has revived the interest excited by the tirst publi- cation of Cooper's thrilling- novel, "The Spy," which was found- ed upon the adventures of Enoch Crosby. Barnum, in "The Spy Unmasked," gives the narrative of (Uosby, and the story follows the facts so closely that it is pretty generally accepted as history. The narrative recites: The Committee of Safety, then ('1771) in session at Fishkill, had received information that an English officer was engaged in the Highlands, secretly recruiting a company from those disaffected to the American cause. Crosby was sclecteil to as- certain the particulars. He crossed the river to Marlborough, a little north of Newburgh, and, taking a soutli-westerly direc- tion, traveled a distance of some twelve miles, bringing- up at a farm-house near the foot of the mountains in Cornwall. Here he engaged as a hired hand to lielp with the work on the farm. He was quick to detect that the farmer was a tory, though CRO'-NEST (^AVE. ;-,7 artVctiii"- an ill-diso-iiised neutrality. '!'•» i'm-tlicr his plans, Cros- by avowed himself as a Britisher at heart, and anxious to i^-et " Ixdow." Th(? farmer at once laid asid<' all reserve, and oliered to help him. "Do you see yond(;r mountain ?" he exelaimed, " on the side of it is a i-urious litth* eave that's been dti<;' o' purpose; but you might pass it a hundred tinn's without know- ing,- th(!re was such a thing- there. In that cave an Eng-lish Captain keeps himself concealed; and we, who are in the secret, supply him with everything- lu^art can wish. He is recruiting- among- the Highlands, and has nearly g-ot his com)»any tilled." It was soon arrang'ed that the farmer should conduct ('rosby to the "cave of the mountain " and make him acquainted with its hermit recruiter. The same iiig-ht they set out. "On arriving- at the eastern side of the lofty eminence which (jur hero's con- ductor had pointed out to him in the morning-, they paused near a clump of dwarf cedars which grew at its base. In front of them was a dark-looking- ol)ject, which proved to be a huge rock cleft in twain by some concussion of the elements, or by a pre- cipitous descent from the dizzy steep above it. With a heavy stick, wiiich the farmer carried with him, he struck several blows, in quick succession, on the flat surface of the rock; and, in a short time, a bright ray (jf light darted from behind it, and gradually increased in brilliancy. In the next moment the object of their visit stood before them, with a small lantern in his hand, by the aid of which he took a critical survey f)f his visitors without speaking. He then bid the farmer welcome, who promptly introduced his companion as 'John Smith, a faith- ful friend to his majesty,' and instantly disappeared. The ('ap- tain received Crosby very cordially; and, after making numerous inquiries, to all of which he received plausible and satisfactory answers, invited him to enter the cave, pointing- to the mouth of an artificial excavation in the mountain, just behind the cloven rock, which (Jrosby had not before (observed. The new recruit instantly obeyed the orders of his superior, and found himself in a small, comfortable, well-furnished apartment, with seats and other conveniences, suitable for two or three persons. In the centre of the floor stood a small round table, liberally supplied with a great variety of cold meats, pastry, bread, butter, cheese, and other kinds of eatables, that the neighbor- 58 TOWN OF COENWALL. mg tavra-huuses could furnish. But what the occupant of the cave most earnestly commended to the attention of his guest, was a larg'e jug, or rather its contents, which he affirmed was as tine Madeira as had ever graced the table of Sir Harry or even his lordship himself." As the jug was emptied, the C'aptain grew communicative. He informed his visitor that in three days' time, on the following Tuesday, his recruits, now number- ing some thirty or more, were to rendezvous at a barn on the westerly side (jf Storm-king, belonging to a loyalist farmer, from whence they would pursue their way to the British lines. Crosby's ingenuity was now put to the test in devising a plan to communicate the information he had acquired. His absence, even for an hour, would excite suspicion and probably reveal the part he was acting. The recruits were coming in fast, and their numbers exposed them to detection. Crosby suggested to the Captain that it would be better to divide up the forces so that, in the event of a surprise by " Townsend's Rangers," who were almost ubiqitous in their scoutings, the whole body would not be captured. The suggestion was favorably received, and each man was directed to hide himself. Crosby was not slow to avail himself of the privilege. He hastened to the house of a man he knew to be friendly to the cause, and urged him to saddle a horse and carry an express to the Committee of Safety at Fishkill. While the messenger was preparing for tlic jour- ney, Crosby wrote the following communication: " To THE Committee of Safety: Gentlemeu — I hasten this express to request yon to order Captain Townsend's company of Rangers to repair immediately to the barn, sitna- ted on the west side of Butter-hill (Storm-king), and there to secrete themselves until we arrive, which will be to-morrow evening, probably about eleven o'clock: where, with about thirty tories, they may find Yonr obedient servant. Monday Evening, Nov. -t, 1777. JOHN SJIITH ." The next evening the recruits were all gathered together in the l)arn, and, jaded by their travels, were sleeping soundly on the hay. Crosby alone was awake. In about an hour's time, a cough was heard on the outside. This being the ])re- concerted signal, was immediately answered by Crosby, and in a few minuti's the building was tilled with Townsend's armed Hangers. Tlu; tory company were (piickly made prisoners with- ■out an attempt at defence. MOUNTAIN LAKES. 59 |||0ttntai!i 11 EvFA' ;ini(>ii<;' those best ;ic(|iiaiiit('(l witli (Cornwall, tew have any idea ol' tlie beauty and iminbor of hikes and hikelets witli which her mountains are dotted, 'riie stranger, as he stands on tliephiiiis beneath, and notes the sharp, angular peaks wln'ch, in tlie deep tM'ilig'ht ol' the coining' nig'ht, seem to support the sky to the sf)uth, can liardly credit the fact, that over and be- yond these mountain tops, anchored in rocky defiles and crag'g-y l»asins, are numerous lakes of ample size and surpassing beauty. The town of Cornwall and the town of Monroe are the lake towns of Orange county. The town of (Treenville has but one small sheet of water, known as Beunet VV^xter-pond. Crawford iias her Dwars-kill, Blooming-Crrove her Cromeline creek, Deer- park her Xeversink, Mount Hope her Shawangunk-kill, Minisink her Drowned Lands, (roshen her Big" Swamp, Wawayanda her Walkill, Chester her Seeley's creek, New Windsor her Wash- ington and Xewburgh her Orange lake, but upon (Cornwall and Monroe nature has bestowed with prodigal hand a bounteous series of lakes, unsurpassed in any part of the world. It is to them we would call attention, botli on account of theii' beauty and utility. The lake system of the Highlands liegins on the Cornwall mountains, continues on into Moiu'oe, and culminates in War- wick in that l)eautiful sheet of water known as Greenwood Lake. It comprises in all sonu! forty lakes of various sizes. The principal ones in Coi-nwall, before the recent division ol' the town, were (giving tliem the expressive but inelegant names by which they have been knoAvn) Bog-meadow Pond, Long Pond, Round Fond, and Sutherland's Pond. The three first named have their outlet to the Hudson: Bog-meadow at Buttermilk Falls, the Bnter rnelck vol of tlie early Dutch skippers; Long- Pond and Hound i'ond, l>y Poplo])en"s kill at Fort Montgomery. 60 TOWN OF COENWALL. Sutherland's Pond empties to the west and supplies the beauti- ful falls that are seen at the Cornwall Mineral Spring-. Round Fond is near to but more elevated than Long Pond, into which its waters flow. Poplopen's Pond is on the line between Corn- wall and Monroe. It covers about three hundred acres of land and has a depth of some twenty-five feet. Its waters were dammed back, years since, to furnish a reservoir for the Fort Montgomery mills. This pond has a sad interest in the records of our town by reason of an unfortunate incident which occur- red on its waters twenty-six years ago. On the 14th of August, 1846, a pleasure party of young folks repaired thither on a pic- nic and fishing excursion. Whilst some of them were rowing about in a boat, the wind suddenly blowed Harvey Adams' cap into the water. A young man by the name of Peter- Seaman, after some little pleasantry, undertook to regain it by jumping overboard and swimming for it. Whilst in the act of doing so, he suddenly sank, and before his companions could furnish assistance, was drowned. The pleasures of the day were ended and the party returned li(jm(> with mournftil hearts. The body was not recovered until the 17th, three days afterwards. Arqong the more prominent ponds in Monroe we may mention the Bull Fond, Green Pond, Two Ponds (upper and lower), Slaughter Pond, Cranberry Fond, Island Fond, Gi-reenwood Fond, Haz/.ard's Fond, Round Pond, Mt. Basha or Mombasha Fond, Johnson-town Pond, Duck-cedar Fond, Little Long Pond, Car Pond, Spruce Pond, Cedar Fond, and last, as well as least, a small body of water in the extreme south-west angle of the town, between Ramapo and Warwick, dubbed with the ultra- radical name of Nigger Fond. Sterling Pond lies in the town of Warwick and has its outlet near the Sterling Furnace. Mt. Basha Pond is located near Southfield, a mile north of the Monroe Ii'on-works. Round Fond is in the north-west part of the town and within a mile of Monroe village. Hazzard Pond heads the Woodbury creek, wliii'h runs along the line of the Short-cut railroad, entering the Murderer's creek near Taylor's bridge. It is an important tributary to the latter stream. Slaughter Pond empties near Greenwood Furnace and runs south. Round Pond is in the west jtart of Monroe and is su{)posed to be the source of the MOUNTAIN LAKES. HI Haiiiapo. 'I'lic term Kaiiia|i(», tliiiu<;'li now s|i('citically a|)|)li<'cl ti» the creek, is an Al<>'()ii(iuiii g'eiierie term and was ori^'iiially jj'iveii to the entire district. It si<;iiiHes, in tlie ex])ressive and eminently Amerit-an dialect referred to, " Nfany ponds." There is a certain point on the Short-cut kiKtwn as "The Summit." It is about a mile north of the junction near the race-course, and directly opposite John Coffey's house, which stands to tlie east of the railroad. It is a rtMuarkahle fact, that a line draw'n east from this point over dale and hill until it strikes the Hudson, forms the summit oi' the water's flow. The lakes and streams to the south of this line How south, whilst those on the north How north. Duck-cedar Pond derives its com{)ound name from the num- ber of aquatic fowls of that name for which it formerly was a favorite resort, and the cedars which skirt its banks. It is call- ed sometimes Truxedo Pond. It is about two miles in leng'th. Its waters are on a level with the Sterling' and Ringwood val- leys. Advantag'e was taken of this fact, during the Ri'volu- tion, in a novel way. The iron furnaces, through the Kamapo, being threatened with an attack by the British, a dam was constructed *»n the north of Duck-cedar Pond and its waters caused to flow to the south-west, thereby supplying the Ring- wood Furnace in New Jcusey with the necessary power. Bull Pond is situated to the east of Highland Mills, about a mile from the station. Of late years it has gone by the nam<' of Agnel's Pond. Agnel, now deceased, was one of the profes- sors at West Point and an enthusiast inpisci-culture. Through his exertions a friend, by the name of Voisan, was induced to purchase the pond and stock it with fish. Voisan is also dead, but the title to the property is in his son, now absent in Europe. During his absence, "Tom" Miller, of New York, that devoted disciple of the g'enial Walton, has charge of the pond and en- tertains his friends in a princely way. The success which has attended the experiments in Agnel's Pond justifies the i)redic- tion that some day the numerous ponds we have alluded to will prove a mine of wealth to their owners, if properly developed. The titles to all these ponds are in the hands of private indi- viduals. Mr. Parrott, of (Greenwood Furnace, is the owner of four. With the exception of Bull Pond, no r<'striction has been (i2 TOWN OF GOKNWALL. plac<^(l upon the use of their waters. The eoiisequeiice has been ail indiscriminate, wholesale destruction of the tinny tribe with wliich they were tilled. Not many years ago, they were stock- ed with pickerel, bass and perch, and in the streams leadinji,- from tliem trout could be taken. The barbarous custom of tishing- through the ice and setting lines over night, has been so generally indulged in that the fishing is now comparatively poor. Tlie fall is the time to visit our Mountain Lakes. The air is keen and clear, whilst the leafless branches broaden the view. To see them aright, you must go on foot. Armed with a stout walking-stick, you ascend the mountains. At each resting place in the ascent (and you will find the need of many), you naturally turn round and view the plain below, bordered on the east by the waters of the beautiful Hudson ; on the north shut in by the Shawangunk mountains, and on the west by the Schune- iiiunk range. The view is unobstructed. The living green is gone, and in its stead you •• See the fading many color'd woods, Shade deep'ningover shade, the country round Imbrown : crowded umbrage, dusk and dun Of every hue, from wan declining green To sooty dark " Except here and tlierc where the winter grain lies bathed in tli(^ sunlight, '• Fled is the blasted verdure of the fields." Nature has ciuiuged her garments, and soon will wrap her- self up in robes of ermine for a winter's nap. As you near the mountain top and look yet again beneath you, a strange feeling- comes over you. No one can stand on these summits, (how- ever dead to emotional excitement he may be) and help but feel his own littleness and nature's greatness. He feeh it here ; he thud's it in the valleys. " All that expands the spirit, yet appalls. Gather around these siunmits, to show How earth may pierce to heaven, yet leave Vain man below '" There is sometliing besides expanse and height to help the feeling on. The very air — still, save wlien rustled by the fall- ing leaf — speaks loudly to tlie soul within. " The whispering air sends inspiration from the mountain heights." MOUNTAIN LAKES. tJ8 As yoii cliinl), your tlioii^lits Uccp puci' with your steps. Bui still you j^'o ou — Tip — liit^'iicr and liig'hcr. A point is soon reach- ed in your traA^ds when you involuntarily corue to a halt. Frle acreau'e. This was the case with Boa'-meadow I'oud. The un'lls fi4 TOWN OF CORNWALL. wliose ruins are seen on the river bank at Buttermilk Falls, were formerly supplied with water from Bog"-meadow. Tlie lay of the hind on our mountain tops is highly favorable to the creation of artificial lakes. There are numerous natural basins of the largest size, only waiting for an inexpensive dam across tlieir mouth to furnish an almost unlimited reservoir. The plateau on Cro'-nest is gifted with (me of them, and some day in tlie early future, the (Government will utilize it as a means of fiH'nishing West Point with water. , The day can not be far distant when, if Cornwall progresses as she has in the last five years, advantage will be taken of the privileges which nature has laid at our very door. The water of these Mountain Lakes is remarkably pure and soft. As before observed, trout were formerly taken in the streams leading from them, and every pisci-culturist knows that trout are never found except in the purest water. The soil has a great deal to do with the purity of water, as well as the hygienic ef- fects of the two elements in combination. In this connection we may note the remarkable contrast our lake system of the Highlands presents to that of the Adirondacks. There the soil is loaded with humus and vegetable decomposition, and the ac- tion of the water and sun gives rise to malaria. Here witli us, the water in its passage down the mountain sides, dashes over rocks or glides over a pebbled bed. The miasm of the Adiron- dacks is unknown to the (Cornwall mountains. WEST POINT. fi-T The seat of our National Military Academy is too well kunwn to need any extended notice. Wo have already glanced -M tlu- Kevolutionary incidents and associations which cluster Mn.und it. To thcseit owes its primary interest. At the close ot tiic war, in fact the very year next succeeding- the declaration of peace, the importance of providing an institution for i)urposes of military education was n.ade the subject of (Congressional m- quiry, and resulted in the recommendation of West Point as the site for the future Academy. The project, however, met with considerable opi)osition ; anu.ng others by Jet^-erson, wlio con- sidered it unconstitutional. A school ..f limited extent, howev- er was established and continued up to the war oi' 1812, when its endowment upon n n.ore liberal basis was sanctioned by even its former opponents, who had now come to appreciate its importance. It is not within ..ur purpose to trace the growth of the Institute or set forth the conspicuous part it has played in advancing our rank as a military nation. These matters have already been touched upon by abler hands. In the pres- ent pages, we con>e to look upon West Point in a somewhat different, but no less interesting light. Of late years, the pictures.pie scenery, aided by the daze of military life, have conspired to popularize it as a fashionable place of summer re- sort Large, well-appointed hotels have been erected, and nu- merous boarding-houses of less pretensions but equal merit compete for the patronage of the summer tourist. The class of visitors and the character of their pleasures are cpnte dis- tinct from those at Cornwall. At the Point, all the dress and dissipation of the more notable watering-places are to be tound. Hops and music are regularly provided, and furnish nightly en- tertainment to the v<.taries ..f the dance. To those that fancy such pleasures, the Point is an agreeabl,. spot. There are many, (jH TOWN UF CORNWALL. however (and of sueli, Cornwall society in the sunnner is prin- cipally made up), who prefer a more rational mode of enjoying" thenjselves ; and yet do not ohject \v an occasional dissipation. To such, the pleasures of the I'oint are conveniently near. The distance is only about four miles, and can he accomplished hy rail, boat or wag-oii. The communication l)y boat is the most pleasant. The Powell in the early morning', or one of the way- steamers in the afternoon, will convey the Cornwall boarder to the Point, where he can visit the numerous objects of interest, and return l)y the Powell in the evening- in time for tea. If he wishes to witness the dress-parade of the cadets, he can remain and take one of the later l)oats back If a hop is to be attend- ed, a bed at any of the hotels i'or the un-danced portion of the night can b<' had, and an early return the next morning' by the lioat, made. A still more agreeable way of going, is to secure the services oi' some of the watermen on the river, when the re- turn may l)e made at leisure. The objects of interest are not only numerous but novel, and re(juire time for their proper examination. The remains of the old I'orts, with which the river-traveler has become familiar I'rom a distance, can be visiled with pleasure. Fort Putnam's ruins will be found on the tree-clad summit of Mt. Indejiendence, 500 feet above tlie river. The casemates that sheltered the patriot soldiers and the stone ste|)s at the sallyport, are 'j; yet to be seen. The tirst fort, constructed to guard the High- land s , w a s built in 1775, on Martelaer's Hock (now (-onstitution) Island, immediately op|)osite West Point, and was called Fort Constitution, .\fter the capture <^»f WEST POINT. 67 Foits Cliiitdii iiiiil MdiitgdiiHMT, ii surv(!y (liscl(iscn oi" Fuv\ Coiistitution was jx'ciiliarlv uiitoi-tuiiatc, it Ix'iii^- (•(Hiiiiiaiidcd l»y tlic more clcvalcd land on the west Itaiik of tli<' i'i\fi-. To i-ciiicdv the cri-or tlic fortilica- rioii was lic marble ct'notaph, amid the ruins, perpetuates the memory of Kosciusko, under whose superiiiteiideuce the fort \\'as completed. To the rear of Fort Putnam on Kocky-hill may be seen Kedoubt Xo. 4, and on lower eminences to the south- ward, the ruineil parapets of Forts Wyllis and Webb. The plateau on which the Academic buildings stand, is oiie liundred and fifty-seven feet above the level of the river, and end)races about tii'ty acres of smooth land, nicely laid down in sward and beautifully shaded where traversed by roads or paths, file principal buildings worthy of visit are the Academy, the Mess-hall, the Observatory and Library, the Chapel, the Cadet's Barracks and the Riding School. At the Academy nuiy be I'ound the ilitlerent- recitation rooms, a large gymnasium, fenc- ing room, and picture and sculpture gallery. In the Artillery Model-i-oom may be seen models of bridges, engines and other matters connected with civil engineering. The models of build- ings and forts are worthy of notice. Those of F'ort Wagner, Ifefore Charleston, and San Juan d'Ulloa, off Vera Cruz, will attract attention. The Museum of Ordinance and Trophies will deserve much more time than the visitor usually has to give it. Swords, muskets, and anmiunition of rare and varied kinds, aic here to be seen. The collection comprises torpedoes and shot from the battle-fields of the late war, tlag-statis and Hags from Mexico, Indian trophies and curious projectiles, and munerous flags borne by the army in the war of 1812, in the Florida war, in Mexico, and in the Rebellion, together with their inscriptions. The most prominent object is a model of the silver mine of Va- lenciana, which stands in the centre oi' the room. The American oflficers stationed in the city of .Mexico, in 1847, purchased the model, at a cost of $8000, by a subscription among themselves, and caused it to be placed in its present position. The upper 68 TOWN OF CORNWALL. surface repit'seuts the operatives, made of silver ainalgain, practising- tlieir several divisions of labor, while the sides ex- hibit the g-alleries of ;che mine with the miners at work. The Riding-hall stands on the bank of the river, at the head of the shelf-road by which the plateau is reached. It is 78x21H feet, and spanned V>y a single curved roof. The equestrian ex- ercises of the Cadets in this capacious hall are quite a feature. The hours for riding are Itetween 11, A. M., and 1, P. M., except _____ during the time of encampment. - 1 n s t r u c t ion is given in tiring at the head, running at the ring with poised sabre, practicing with pistols, leapi ng bars and hurdles, and other feats of more or less diflK- c u 1 1 y. Visitors have an ojiportu- nity oi' witness- ing the evolu- tions and t hey never fail to ex- cite fa vor a bl e comment. Besides the buildings to which we have referred, there are at the post nunuM'ous others of less pretensions. The Superintend- ent's ([uarters, the (General's quarters, the homes of the officers, professors, nmsicians, and their families, are all conveniently situated on the west of the plain. Having called the visitor's attention to the m>te-worthy ob- jects nnfhia the various buildings, we may now invite him to a stroll icithout. Well-kept paths conduct him to the different points of interest. On the north verge of the plain are to be seen the brass mortars taken from Burgoyne at Saratoga, sur- rounded by links of the big chain, of which mention has already WEiST POINT. 0<) been made. There lire also tlie Mexican trophy guns, the fa- mous thirteen-inch mortar, the English tropliy guns, and a large granite ball brought by (Jeneral Delafield from the Crimea. Descending the hill on the north we come upon the Sea-coast Battery with its armament of rilled monsters. Here may be seen 100, 200 and 300-lb. Parrots, the 15-inch gun and the lo-inch mortar, capable of hurling missiles as far as Polopel's Island, which the battery eonnnands. The attention is not con- fined alone to the spoils and trophies of " grim visag'd war.'' Here and there about the grounds and in the cemetery near by, a melancholy pleasure is taken in viewing the shafts raised to the mighty dead. A massive sarcophagus indicates the tondi of General Winfield Scott. Tlie Cadet's Monument marks the resting place of those who have died whilst pursuing their studies at the Point. Not far from the turn in the road, in iVont of the officers quarters, stands upon a granite pedestal, a Hue bronze statue of General Sedgwick ; and near to it, upon a knoll surrounded by evergreens, is an obelisk, erected to the memory of Lieutenant-Colonel E. D. Wood, who fell in Septem- ber, 1814, while leading the sortie from Fort Erie, in Canada. The white marble monument on the plain commemorates the bravery of a detachment of United States troops under Major Francis L. Dade, in a battle M'itli the Seminole Indians in Flori- da, in December, 1835. Of the one hundred and eight men in the party, all but three were massacred by the infuriated savages. The jiaths at the Point are not only well shaded but well chosen so as to create pleasant surprises and open vistas of the most charming scenery. The drives are, owing to the nature of the country, limited in extent. Of the paths, that so widely known as Flirtation Walk is traversed by almost every visitor. It possesses many points of romantic beauty, and borrows no little admiration from the sijfter sex on account of its tradi- tionary " charming walks with the Cadets, you know." It will serve you an agreeable hour, if you have the time and a suit- able companion. Less time will be required and a more sub- stantial interest awakened by visiting Kosciusko's Garden, which is reached by the path starting a few feet only from Dade's monument, which serves the stranger as a finger-board, c 5 TO TOWN OF CORNWALL. Everything- con- nected with the illustrious Pole is uf absorbing" in- I t e rest t o t h e American heart. During- tiie Kevo- Intion, he was in <• ii a rg-e as engi- neer at the Point, and the spot we are considering- is aflrtnned by tradi- tion to liave lieen the scene of his studies and reve- ries. The site is retired and most romantically situ- ated on a sheh- ing- g'org-e in the face of the rock. In 1802, the re- mains of a foun- tain which Kosciusko had constructed, were discovered at this? point. A marble basin has been placed on the original site into which the water now flows. If time permits, it will be well to visit Hig-ldand Falls, a lively little villag-e, about a mile to the south of the military post ; and perhaps extend the drive as far as Vovt Montg'omery. The road is kept in g-ood order, and, following- the water's edg-e as it does, will be found delig-htfully pleasant. Retui-ning- to the Point, we may take a peep at tiie iminner in which our future heroes conduct themselves. Their militai-y <'xercises possess a renuirkable fascination for all visitors. The most diflficult manoeuvres are executed with an ease and precision seldom ecpudled. The music by the West Point Band is unrivalled. For ten months in the year, the (Uidets remain ill the barracks and pursue their academical studies. About WEST POINT. tlic 25tli. (if .hint', tlicy ^;'<> into cainp ay is suscep- tilde of an ascent. The top may also be reached Uy a tlaiik movement to the west, passing up Cliamplin-way and coming upon it by the rear. Of the two routes the former is tlie most difficult, and has to be accomplished entirely on foot. The toil of the latter may be shared by driving to the residence of Mr. Peter Brown, or John L. Wood, and there leaving your horses. The hardy and venturesome t(»urist will prefer to climb the mountain at the steepest practicalile [»itcli. The difficulties ol' the feat creates a fascination which always favors this route. Tlu; departure is taken from a point near A[r. Solomon's new villa, at the foot of the monarch, and c-ontinued over wood-path and water-course until his majesty's crown is reached. Notwith- standing the toil and difficulty of this route, ladies have fre- (jueiitly joiiu'd the expedition, and sut-ceeded in scaling the heights, upon which they have caused their accoiMpanying knight-errant to display a handkerchief fastened to a tree-top, that they might afterwards point tVom the plain below to the lia';--like emblem of their success. ASCENT OF STORM-KING. 75 'I'lic siiiiiinit once <>,'iiiiH'(l, wliilst taking" the iinu-li-iiccdcd rest, the eye soon sliaivs tlic tatigMic ot" the Ixxly in its cftorts to grasp the many objects that cliallengc its att(Mition. There ai'e nn- nierons olhei- views about Cornwall equally tine, Imt none ol' such !f. The natural beauty ol' the country, within a radius ol' sixty miles from the spot you stand on, caji nowhere be surpass- ed. Fore-ground and back-ground of the picture are equally attractive. Sparkling' valleys at your feet — towering* mountains in the distance — cities and villages sprinkled about — the river thn'ading its tortuous way — hill-sides discharging tlieir silver streams — huge chasms and massive rocks — some near and others remote — all and each contribute to i"ound out and com- plete a picture of unequalled grandeur. You view the spectacle from your mountain-tier seat with no intervening peaks with their hats on to obstruct the view. You may hear tlie music of the band at West Point, wafted on the southern wind, and might look down on the parade-ground and witness the evolutions of the ('adets, were it not for the intervening heights of Cro'-nest. If you have been thoughtful, you will have brought with you a field-glass and a guide familiar with the surrounding country. Not only the view l)ut the peculiar air which surrounds the mountain-top, excites attention. It was of this, when describ- ing the ascent, Mr. Willis wrote: "Somewhere about noon we came upon brooks running the other way, and began to smell (we thought) a little of the salt air of the seabord — the ridge we had mounted being an efiectual Panama l)etween this and an iidand air nuich more Pacific for the lungs. In the cannon of the military post at the foot of the descent on one side and the rolls of Orange county butter at the foot of the descent on the otiier, my chronic cough-memory found a very correct exponent of the two climates which the mountain divides. To my emi- nent friend Doctor (xray, who prescribed the velvet side of this Isthmus, so near New York (instead of the Trip to the Tro])ics whii-h 1 took in spite of him and found so inefi'ectual), I owe what gratitude my present better health is wortli ; and 1 men- 70 TOWN OF CORNWALL. tion it here for the benefit of the large public of consumptive given-over-dom of which I have now ceased to be one. To the pulmonary patients who abound in our harsh seabord atmos- phere, this Highland Terrace (Cornwall) is a far better Malvern tlian the Antilles — the poor, at least should know." The student of Revolutionary history will find food for his contemplation here. There is a sermon on patient and heroic suffering in the bare rocks, for here were lighted those massive beacon fires which ever and anon summoned the hardy militia to the defence of the Highland forts. Being the highest, the l)oacon here was the signal to others similarly located on hills for miles around. Half-clad signal-men watched here through storm and night and cold — so cold that more than one perished and passed to that future which has " no king but God." Wo need to get close to the footsteps of these men to properly ap- preciate their work. Parties making the ascent of Storm-king will be amply re- paid for their trouble. There are other imposing views of which we shall come to speak, but tliey are of comparatively easy access. The element of fatigue and danger which add a zest to mountain climbing, are to be met at Cornwall only in the ascent of Storm-king. THE GKAVE OF DUNCAN. 77 ^])rai'e of 5"^^^^'^^b James Duxcax was born in Pliillipstown (Cold Spring;), on tlic opjxtsitc side of the riviu', iSoptcmbov 29tli, 1811. From the tuinbstones in the family burying'-g-round, situated a little to the south of the hero's grave, it appears that the family name was Duncanson. His father, Robert Duncanson, died Dec. 26th, 1858, aged 72 years and 18 days. His mother, Judith Duncanson, died 11th Feb., 1845, in the 58th year of her age. Tlie terminal syllable of the name was first dropped by the subject of our sketch, whose dislike of superfluities was peculiarly characteristic. Ever since, the surviving members of the famih", consisting oi' a brother and two sisters, have been known by the name of Duncan. Our hero received the rudi- ments of his education near the scene of his birth, at the village school. From those who knew him at this early period of life, we learn that he was noted for his love of fair-play on the school-ground and his championship of the weaker side. An insight to his youthful pastimes may be gained from his speech at the Astor-House, on the occasion of being presented with a gold medal, wherein he said: "The mountains of the Highlands in which I was born, I rambled and climbed so often when a boy, that every stone, tree and cool spring for miles around, was as familiar to me as the fireside of my lunnble home. These scenes of my childhood and youth are too deeply stamped upon my heart and recollection ever to be forgotten. After the lapse of years, when far away from my native land, even amid the din of battle, when the thought came f)ver me — as it often did come — ' what will they say of this at home V it proved an incentive to increased exertion." Having secured an appointment as Cadet to the Military Academy at West Point, he entered that institution, and gradu- ated with becoming honors in 1835. He now entered the armv 78 TOWN OF CORNWALL. as Lieutenant of tlie 4tli Regiment of Artillery, and was eng-a- o-ed in active service during the Seminole war. While with rieneral (iaines, at Withlacoocheo, in Florida, he was slightly wounded. .About 1838, he gave his attention to perfecting an arm of the service which was then in its infancy, but afterwards became conspicuous under the name of the ''Battery of Flying Artillery." Major Ringgold and Captain Taylor cooperated with him, at Camp Washington, in organizing and drilling a company. enlisted for the purpose. It was in this employment that the superior ability of Lieutenant Duncan, as a tactitian and military instructor, first forced itself upon the public attention. Ipon the l)reaking out of the Mexican war, lie joined the army with his battery, and participated in every engagement from l*alo Alto to tlie city of Mexico, except the battle of Beuna Vista. At Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma, his brilliant e.\- |)l()its and daring bravery made him the Sheridan of the day. At the latter of these battles, when the enemy were in full tlight, Duncan pursued them with his battery, creating a per- fect panic and dispersing them in all directions. His gallant conduct met with quick appreciation. Li the short space of two years he rose from a Lieutenant to the full rank of Colonel in the army. His splendid achievements not only exacted the approval of his military superiors, but elicited a deep response from the popular heart. Cpon his return home, he received, in every place through which he passed, the most marked manitest- ations of the public esteem. Ovations met him at every turn. At the Astor House, on the evening of the 28th December, 1848, the wealth, the talent and the respectability of the great city united in a complimentary dinner to him, and the presentation of a gold medal. The Hon. Judge Edmonds presided on the occasion, and tendered the memorial in a speech reciting at length his gallant deeds. The death of Col. Croghan, soon afterwards, gave President Polk an opportunity of rewarding ('ol. Duncan's distinguished services with the honorable and lucrative but arduous i)ost of Inspector-(ieneral of the United States Army. It was whilst in tiie discharge of the duties of this position he contracted the malady oi' which he died. He had been visiting the southei'ii military |)osts, when he was taken with tlie yellow fever at Mo- THE GRAVE OF DUNCAN. 79 bilo and died on the 3d day of July, 1849. His doatli cn'ato(l a most ]jrotouiid sensation tlironi>'liout tlie country, lie was com- paratively a young- man, l)ein<;' only tliirty-oight years of aj;-e, hut liis brief career had been so brilliant that the popular in- stiiu-t had selected him lor a briyht and [)romiuent fate in th<' futni'c. His name had already l)een mentioned in connection with the Presidency. His untinudy deatli formed the to|)ic of universal lament. The Connnon Couiu'il of New York, ])rover- bially (piick to reflect the puiilic feeling', passed the folidwing' preand»l(; and resolution: " Whereas, the public have been iuformed. thi-ough the cohimus of the public press, of the death of the brave aud heroic Duiicau, whose devotiou and success, as an officer in the late Mexi(-an war. have stamped him as one of those whose name is identical with the history of our country: and as our city cannot forgether representatives, either upon the battle-tield or in the council of the nation, therefore be it " Hksolvej). That, in keeping with the above expressed services of the heroic dead, and the hi^h estimation in which W(^ hold those services, a committee of three of this body be appointed, to have his remains brought to this city, and the proi)er testimonials of respect paid which are due to his exalted worth and merit, as a republican soldier and citizen." In pursuance of the resolution, the remains of Col. Duncan were brought to New York, and th<'re, on the loth of Novem- ber, 1849, funeral solemnities of the most imposing character ceh'brated. The pageant, which has never been equalled for impressive ostentation, was in honor of the lamented Major- General Worth, Colonel Duncan, and Major Gates. The hearses containing the remains of tlie dead heroes were preceded by the entire iirst division of the state militia accompanied by Itands of music performing appropriate airs. After the hearse of Ma- jor-General V^^)rth came that (jf Colonel Duncan, drawn by two pairs of gray horses. The military charger, which he had rode for twelve years, followed the hearse, led by a g-room. This equine veteran had carried his master through the battles of Palo Alto, Kesaca, Monterey, Vera Cruz, Cerro (iordo, San An- tonio, Cherubusco, Molino del Hey, Chapultepec, Garita Belen, Garita Cosme, and City of Mexico. As he walked behind the hearse, with his master's boots reversed, he excited a most mournful interest. The procession reached from the City Hall to Union Square, a distance of about two miles. The buildings along the route were draped in mourning, and crape was worn by the celebrants. Upon returning to the ('ity Hall, the coffins were placed upon a catafalque and an ode, composed by (reorge 80 TOWN OF CORNWALL. P. Morris, was sung; after which a funeral oration was deliver- ed by Ihm. John Van Buren. The next morning, the 16th, the remains of Colonel Duncan were conveyed to the steamer St. Nicholas for transportation to their final resting place. A deputation from the Common Coun- cil, the X. Y. Light Guards, a band of music from Boston, offi- cers of the U. S. Army, and a committee of the citizens of Cornwall, accompanied them. Upon passing West Point and Cold Spring, fitting honors were paid by those on shore. When Cornwall was reached, the funeral procession was formed at the landing, and proceeded to the iutd one, bearinf:; the inscription: "'flie citi- zens of Newburg-h, N. Y., to Captain James Duncan, U. 8. A." A platform had been erected at the head t)f the grave frcjui which the Rev. Win. Cruikshank, a local pastor of marked ability, delivered the funeral oration. The body was tlien lowered into the g-ronnd, three vollies in cpiick succession tired by the Light Guards, and the assembly dispersed. The interest of the reader is, no doubt, excited to know some- thing of the personal appearance of Colonel Duncan. In tigure he \vas slight and not above the middle height. lie possessed a most marked physiognomy. The features were sharp and an- gular, indicative of great individuality of character and resolute lirmness. The eye betokened a mind ([uick to act. The head was well-proportioned and connected by a neck rather inclined to be lengthy. The two most prominent traits in his character were courage and modesty. They were illustrated time and again. His conduct at Palo Alto and Resaca, for personal bra- very, has never been surpassed, if equalled, on the battle-tield. He was not only brave under the excitement of the battle, but in council his voice was always for the fight. In the council-of- war, previous to Resaca, out of the thirteen officers, he was one of the three who voted for the advance. His modesty was no less conspici^)us than his bravery. In his reply to Judge Ed- monds, at the Astor House dinner, he said: "For my profession- al success, to which you have so eloquently referred, I feel that I owe son)ething to chance, much to opportunity and still more to the zeal and cordial cooperation of the acc()nii)lished offic-ers and brave men with whom I have had the honor and good for- tune to be associated." It was to this remarkable freedom from envy and detraction— so rare in jjultlic men — that he owed his popularity among his military associates. A comi)arison be- tween Worth and Duncan was attempted by their eulogist at the City Hall ceremonies. If the ft>rmer occiii)ies a more pro- ^2 TOWN OF COKNAVALL. iiiiiieiit place on the i:)ag'e of history, it was because of his more varied and extended career. Ducan's career was like that of the meteor, not only in brilliancy but duration. The earth was tilled with tiie noon-tide g'lory of iiis daring-, but the shades of an early night dissipated it. He died in the meridian of life. It were idle to predict the eminence to which he would have attained, had Providence spared him. But "Duucan is iu his grave. After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well." The site of his resting-place is on the easterly slope of liigh- land Park, near the humble home he loved sn well, overlooking th(> broad expanse of Cornwall l)ay and in full view of the en- circling mountains. Six plain turned posts, connected by a rude chain, enclose the space where rest his remains. Xo stone is raised to mark tlie sp(jt. A head-ltoard and foot-lioard of rough hemlock, rotted off and fallen to the ground, are the sole monu- ments to his memory. "Rest! Warrior, rest ! * * * * Thy sleei^ is ijeaceful, th<)Ut,'li alxive The turf no banners wave, Nor showy shaft, nor scnlptur'il .stone. Hath niark'd the Warrior's {jravc, Yet thou wert foremost in the strife Where thousands strove lor fame and life. The laurel wreath, to all so dear. Was nobly won — to deck thy bier. * * * * Sleep, Duncan, sleep ! the Hudson breathes A ceaseless dirge for thee; The dark green hills that guard tliy grave Thy monument shall be. The land for whom thy blood was shed , Remembers not her noble dead; XwA well to-day may Freedom weep, When hearts like thine forijotlen sleeji. IDLE-WILD. 83 ir RESIDEXCK OF THE LATE X. 1'. WILLIS. Here was the home of tlie Poet! Here he lived and died! In the little cliamber abt)ve the library the invalid <>vnius ]K'n- ued those fanciful sketches which have aroused the admiration of two continents. The grove in the o-len— the l)rook— the Uiwn— the slumbering river— the towering numntains— one and all were vivified by the touch of his fruitful i)en. Speak of Idle-wild we cannot. It must be seen and felt .' It is like a fabled region where the confines of fancy and fact are lost to sense. The limnings of the genial Willis have invested his Hitildand Eyrie with such romantic charm, that to break it, we would not if wc could. If the picture nmst be nuirred, we leave- it for other hands. We restrict ourself to a brief biographical 84 TOWN OF CORNWALL. sketch of the Poet, and a simple description of liis former home and surroundings. Natlianiel Parker Willis was born at Portland, Maine, on the 20th day of January, 1807. His grandfather is said to Inive worked as an apprentice in the same office with Benjamin Franklin, and afterwards published the Imlejiciulrnt (Jlirouide at Boston. He took an active part in the "tea party" which the American gave to their British cousins, about this time, in Boston harbor. Nathaniel Willis, the lather of the Poet, was also a practical printer and editor. He published at Boston (having removed to that place from Portland), the first religious newspaper printed in America. It was called the Bodon Re- corder. Subsequently he started the Yoidli's C'omjjanion which he continued to edit for a number of years. The mother of the P(jet, an excellent wonum and highly gifted, died in 1854. The rudiments of Mr. Willis' education were acquired under the tutorship of the Rev. Dr. McFarland, of Concord, N. H. He subsequently attended the Boston Latin School, and Phillip's Academy, at Andover, where he remained until he entered Yale College in 1823. About this time, when the futiire of his life was in the balance, his father was anxious to place him in a printing office. His mother, however, favored the son's aspira- tions for a classical education and he was sent to Yale. During his collegiale course his poetical exuberance sought relief in a number of fugitive poems. His " Scripture Sketches," composed at this early period, immediately gained a popularit}^ which they have never lost. Upon graduating, in 1827, he delivered the valedictory poem to his class — a production Avhich will bear fa- vorably with any of his later eff'orts. His editorial life began with the Token, upon leaving college. At the same time he published, in several volumes, the Ltgevdary. He next estab- lished the American Monthly Magazine, a periodical which at once took a high position. All these literary eft'orts were ac- complished beibre he attained his majority. In 1830 the Maga- zine was united with the New York Mirror. Mr. Willis now took his departure for Europe, over which he journeyed, and sent from time to time those interesting papers which under the title of " Pencilings by the Way," gave the Mirror a prominent l)osition in the literature of the day. It was during his resi- IDLE-WIJJ). «rt (Iciicc ill Hii<;-laii(l (1885), that he was iiiairicd lo Mary Ii<'i;^-Iitiiii Stacc, tlic (laiiji-litcr of a (listiii,iLi,-iiisli('(l British dtticcr wiio was at tliat time (I()iiiiuaii(liii<;--^'ni('ral. in (•(niniiaiHl i)t' tlic arsenal a) \V(i()lwii-li. Ill ISoT he rctiiriHMl hoinr and cstabliHlicd hiiu- scir (111 tlic hanks (if the Siis(|n('lianiia in ccntriil New York. near the village of Owe^'o. With that felicity of iKnueiicluture for which he was noted, lie i-ajled the cottaf;-e he hiiilt " (ileii- iiiary," and his sn])se(Hieiit " Letters from I'lider a Hridgx'," in- vested his then lioinc with all the romance and charm which ^s^^bseqnelltly attached to his later one on the Hudson. Whilst at " (ilenmary," the first shadow crossed his hitherto sun-lit path. in the death of his first-born, whiidi sad event gave rise to those tender lines beii'iniiiiii;" : •■ Room, gentle flowers I my child would paws to heavt;u."' Other iiiisfortniies licfel him in ipiick succession. The failure of his income by reason of the death of his futher-iu-law, and the insolvency of his book ])ublislier. compelled him after the lapse of tive years to turn his back upon his cottage by the .Sus- (|ueliamia and seek the ever busy city for means of sustenance. He attached himself to the Corxair, -a weekly journal published by Dr. Porter, and in its interest again went abroad. While in London he published a c-ollection of stories, poems and letters, under the title of " Loiterings of Travel," and another volume containing his plays of " Biaiica Yisconti " and "Tortesa, the I' surer." He returned to the I'nited States in 1844, and finding the ('orsair vanislu'd from its wonted place, he engaged with (ieneral (i. J*. Morris in the conduct of the New Mirror. It was during this year his wife died, and his own health failing, for the tliiivl time he visited Kuroi)c, taking with him his only child, a girl who had been named Imogen. He here bnmglit out. in 1845, his " Dashes at Ijife with a Free Pencil," in three volumes. During his tri]) on the continent he fell in with one of his old boon companions in the person oj' Theodore Fay. the American Secretary of Legation at Berlin. Through his importunities, aided by those of .Mr. \Vlieaton. the Embassador. (»ur Poet had re- solved to remain abroad, but going to England to place his daugh- ter at school, he w^as taken ill, and once again he turned towards th(! land of his birth. Fpon arriving in New York he associated himself with (Tcnl. Morris in the publication of the Home Journal . C 11 8(i TOWN OF CORNWALL. wliicli sdoii liccaiiie one ni tlic iiiust siiceesst'iil weekly papei's ill the coiuitry. Mr. Willis wa.s a hard worker and the iimid)er iii' Noluiues he published would t'urni, of themselves, a fair-sized library. We have not space to eatalooiie them. Tiiose of local interest are, " Out Doors at Idle-wild, oi' the Shaping of a Home on the banks of the Hudson;" "Hurry-g'raphs," and the "Con- valescent." In 1845,!i\ir. Willis was married to Cornelia, only daughter of Hon. Joseph (jrinnell, of Massachusetts, a former member of ff^-^ -ss- /--- ",ft four children, named, res])ectively, Grinnell. Bailey, Sarali. and Kditii. In summing up the literary rejyutation of the Poet, we cannot do better than (piote th(^ words of Dr. (iriswold, who. in his " i'l'ose Writevsol' America," says: "'The life and fertility of the mind of Mr. Willis are very remarkalilc. His spirits and faculties seemed to have been bathed in perpetual freshness. The stream of IDLE-WILD. ST tliiiiiii'lit and IV'cliiiL;' in him is like (lie hiilihliiiLi' (iiils|iriiii;- of it natural tonntaiii, vvliicli Hows tbrtli with g-aiety and trccdoin, if it flows at all. His powers scoiii ncvtu'to he lessened liy e.\- lianstion. His lancv is never soihwl hy latii^'iie. lie nciver copies others and he never rejteats hiinstdt'; but always prompt and always vivid, his mind acts with the i-ei'tainty of" a natural prism which turns every ray that reaches it into a peculiar heauty." As a man. Mi'. Willis was companionalije and ol a i;ciiial luiture. Those who knew him at Coiiiwall. in his every day walks and talks, bear testimony to his unil'orm kindness. TTis court-like address was not assume(l, iiut I'elt. We have lieai'd an old resident say, he was the "only true ';x'ntl(unan 1 ever met." He endi'ared liimselC to all with whom he came in con- tact by his condescending' t'orbeai'ance — especially to the ]»oor and lowly, from whom he n<'ver shi'ank. His sense of honor was nice and acute, as evidenced by his acceptance of tiie chal- leniiX' ol' (.'a])tain Marryatt, the novelist, for a supposed provo- cation, whilst in Eu<;'land. Mr. Willis, in early youth, had been attached to the tenets of I'resbyterianisni. In laVei' life, he renounced them. Whilst at Cornwall, he was one of the Vestrymen of St. ffithn's Episcopal Church. His death occurred on Sunday evening-, the 20th of January, 1867, at Idle-wild. He died on the anniversary of his birth and was just sixty years old. His remains were conv(?yed to Mount Aubiu'ii for interment. Ijct us now retrace our steps and go back to the period of the Poet's advent in Cornwall. We have already hinted at the malady which threatened him on his return from Europe. Tndev the advice of a prominent city physician (the distinguished Dr. (xray). h*' was directed to Cornwall. He passed the sununer oi' 18;")! at (ilen-brook Farm, the home of the Misses Suth(M'lan(l. which is situated on the road to NcAvburgh, immt^diately north of the mountain stream which his pen has since immortali/ed. He sought for a (|uiet, retirecl home, and in that of the Misses S. he secured it. His tim(! was spent in randtling about the country, usually attended by a companion. It was during one of these wanderings, in company with Mr. dohn SutheHaud, a brother of his hostess, that the i-apahil ities of Idle-Avild glen H8 TOWN OF CORNWALL. forced tl)eiiiselve!S uii liis arteiitioii. Tiiniiii,u- to liis conipaiiioii. lie pxclaiiiied: "What a beautiful s])()t 1" 'Oh," returued Mv. S.. who had known the locality trom liis youth as a wild and idle waste under the name ot Newhold-hollow. "'it's nothing' but an idle wild." The expression, like a spai'k ti-oni the Hint, caught the fancy of the Poet, and kindlctl those thoug'hts which breathed and words which l)unied their way to the hearts of thousands. \ clue to the motives Avhich g'uided in the selection of this wild and picturesque spot for his future home can be gathered from a passage i]i one of his letters: " 1 have thought it curious, by the way, that among the many who liave strolled with me through our wilderness of acclivities and wood-))aths — coming Ti))on all kinds of views and landsca])e surprises, and seeing' every variety of surface and every })ossible tangle of wood. rock, and water — no one has ever yet suggested an embellish- ment, or ))ointed out a natural l)eauty that might be modilied or taken advantage of. Yet the improvements that might l)e made, seem to me as obvious as they are almost numlx-rless — charm- ing paths that might l)e cut, precipices and waterfalls that might terminate vistas, terraces that might be turned into glades and lawns, chasms that might be romantically bridged, and rapids that should be seim from eminences. Admiring the little that has been done very kindly and warndy. as beautiful, the imagination of the visitor does not seem to busy itself to lend a thought as to what viight he done to make it more beau- tiful still. Omni-creative as tlie American mind would seem to be, the creation of beauty seems not to be among our hal)itual and alert instincts, as a people." Inspired by such thoughts, Mr. Willis purchased, for an inconsiderable price, the portion of the Xewbold tract which had been regarded as valueless. In June, 1852, he returned to Cornwall and connnenced the erect- ion of th(^ cottage. During its construction he remained with his former friends, the .Misses Sutherland, the conveiiieni-e of whose residence favored the daily visits of superintendence he gave the rising structure. The cottage was completed by the spring oi" 1858, and in .lunc of that year, Mr. Willis with his family took possession. Th<> I'ottage was designed by Mr. Calvert Vaux, then associa- ted in l)usiness with the lamented Downini;', with their ollice at IDLE-WILD: S^» \,.wImu-1i. Mr. V:inx ivinarks. in Lis -Villas unci Cottages," that "ail the lines of the plan wciv set ..ut under the special .lin.eti.H. ..r Mr. Willis, wlm seemed U> take move interest in juv-mii latin- tlie h.mse t.. the laneies nf the -enius of the place than in any other part of the arrang-enients, and the whole design was so fitted among the ever- greens and adapted to eve- ry peruliarity of the site, that it a])pears to be al- most surrounded by tall, flourishing trees, although l)road stretches of distance III every dir(H-tit»n, and ex- tensive^ views of the river and mountain scenery are gained from the various w indows. each vi(nv being .1 separate picture set in a frame of unfading foliage." The site selected for the erection of the cottage w tree-clad, craggy ravine 90 TOWN OF CORNWALL. wliicli marks tlu^ boundaries to the west. Tlif ]:)]at('aii, or ter- race as it has been iiia))tly called, eml»races the remainder. Over the rocky bed of tlie ravine, a motintain stream, : ;" with rapid leap, finds its \ ^.. way to the river below.- — ' The descent from where it enters the grounds is al)out two Imndred feet, and is accomplished in a distance of less than a half-mile. — This stream takes its ris(> in the mountains to the south, and, like those of similar sour(-e, is, at times. ^ a slumbering.' rill: at othei's, a sweepint;' torrent. Its ])assau,'e throug'h the >j-len is checked at intervals by huii-e boulders — one of which is knoAvji as ('hapel Hock — and smallei' rocks of quaintest i'orm, over and around which the waters cascade, forming;' what the Poet was i)leased to call " a kind of Trenton Falls for one." The ( Hen is the most at- tractive feature of the ])lace. A ramble throuu'h its tanji'led depths displays a wealth of Ix'auty rarely ('(pialed. On either si(U', the steep ascending;- banks are (hovered with sturdy |)ines and hemlocks, whose never-failing" verdure give a perennial freshness to the scene. The air, at times, is heavy with the fragrance they emit. In o))edience to the notions of the Poet, which were to utili/.e. at trilling iu>st, every vantage of nature, the paths, by which the glen is traversed, wei'e sh(>lve(l along the sides of the |)reci- ))ice, and the brook crossed, where needed, by the primitive THE COTT.VOK FROM THK MKAHOW, IPLE-WILi:). 91 means of a t'allcii ti'<'c. As all, laiiiiliar witli tlu' \\'i'itiii;j,'s of Mr. Willis arc aware, lie had a liapjn' Cdiieeil of i-l<»tliiii<;- his thoiiu-hts with words coiiietl Ircsh IVoiii the luiiil of a mind I'ATH IN THE (tI,K\, noted ioi- its orij^-iHality. The habit was not eontined alone to the ideal : it extended to the actual ; and in the inultiforni names, <;'iven to the various objects in the ^den, is presei'vod the memory of many a friend, many an association, and many an incident. Of this charactei- is Funny-child Brook, Chapel Kock, Dri]) Rotd<. .ludii'e Daly's Seat, and so on. The bvook to which the name of Funny-child was g'iven. descends through an intersectiuii- ra.vine. called Home-shut, and minti'les its waters 9!> TOWN OF CORNWALL. witli tlioso of Idle-wild Brook, near the meadow-lawn l)orderiii>i,- the river. The passer over River-side Drive, traverses tlie bridjj-e beneath which flow the wedded waters of the two brooks. The history of tlie union is o-iven by the Poet, in one t)f liis letters, so charinino'ly that we beii," to quote: "To niairv two brooks was my errand out- =:*; of-doors this mornini^-. The meadow-lawn, two hundred feet below our cottag'e win- dows, is the junction-porch ul' two converj>'ing' g'lens — Idle-wild and Home-shut, ajid each has its brook, brought from far-apart sources, but joining- lips within our fence upon the Hudson. Both gden- opening-s being- included in one tangled domain, tiie road ( lut, t( >wards N e w b u r g ii , makes a bend arcmnd the meadow, crossing- below the projecting promontories of the two ; and, as we must needs, of course, traverse their two streams, it was desirable to bring them a little sooner tog-ether and span their united waters with one bridge. It re- (piired some digging and danniiing- — ^Funny-child (the other brook), after all manner of noisy vagaries in its own glen, coming out to co([uet capriciously with the swells of the mead- ow, and shieing- Idle-wild just where nature iutemled they slumld meet to part no more — l)iit we made the new bed some days ag-o and only waitecl fir a thuiider-stoi'iii, it being an object to reiuiive the barrier just when the swollen flood might g'ive a more natural turn to their meeting. 1 should mention that Home-shut, thoug'h directly opposite my study-window, is a glen so intricately out of the way that no chance foot would ever c-ross it; and from its close wooded entrance of hendocks, the denuire stream, so suiuiy and nu^rry the moment after, i-omes forth like n n'ih'tJ mm mif of tin' dar/,- /inrdi of o cnfliedfo/ — Funny- FUXXY-CHILD HRooK. TDI.K-WILD. 1)8 cliild liciiit;' also a rixulct of capricious stay, and disaiipcariii^' (g-oiic to tiic S/))'iii(/s pcriiaps) tor two iiioiitlis oi' tlic year. Bill wc liroiiii'lit the two to^'ctlicr. * * Tlic scciiiiii.i;- loneliness ol' the tiden is r(diev('' seasons, keeps u]) a ))eri)etiial concert of nudody — in niid-siiininer, sinking- to the solo softness of tlie tiiite; in si)ring- and antiiniii, swcdling- to the tiiial tuinult oi' a full orchestra acconipaninieiit. The ganiiit of sound is run Avitli astouishint;- ccderity. A few hours turns a iz^entle iniirinur into the din ol' a cataract. VVlien the rain-clouds that encircde the Storni-k inn's liea