New York, Saturday, June 21st, 1800
            5½ p. m. Embarked on board the Sloop Sally, Captain Peter Donnelly, seventy tons, four hands, viz. the Captain, his brother Andrew, John, who was on board Admiral De Winter's Ship on the memorable 11th October, 1797, and Nicholas, a free black acting as steward, cook, cabin-boy, &c. had purchased his own freedom and that of his wife, hoping soon to effect that of his children; performs well on the violin, and is very smart.  Twenty-four passengers, not births for more than half.  Passage two dollars each.  Board and liquors, as may happen.  Principal passengers, General Alleser, of New York, violent democrat; Caul, of (p. 4) Seratoga [sic], ditto; Mr. Mousley, warm aristocrat and federalist; Mr. Putnam, Mr. Williams, Lieutenant Kipp, all three federalists; the youth Octavius, son of Timothy Pickering, Esq. late Secretary of State, under the care of Messrs. Williams and Putnam, both relations of Mr. Pickering; Jonas, of Montreal, Grocer; ------ of Michillinnackinac; a drunken, Scotch Presbyterian Minister; Mr. Sanger, &c. &c.; four rafts-men, and a man and his wife from Staten Island.
            7 p. m.  Unmoored; fine S. E. breeze; ten knots.
            8 p. m.  Breeze slackened.
            Midnight; cast anchor twenty-five miles from New York, entrance of Tappan Bay, not wind to stem the ebb.  In the night, severe storm of thunder, lightning and rain.  Not finding a birth unoccupied, or scarcely one that did not contain two persons, the Captain gave me his own state room.
(p. 5)  Sunday, June 22d.
            5 a. m.  Turned out, got under weigh:  Tappan Bay, or Sea, five miles wide and ten long; extremities marked by two remarkable high bluffs; scarcely a breath of air; fog on the high banks of the bay; heavy rain; fell calm when opposite to Tarry-Town.
            (p. 6)  10 a. m.  Sun broke out and light airs from the north; beat slowly through the Tappan to Haverstraw-Bay, six miles side, ten long.  Stakes in the river for the convenience of taking Shad.  Sturgeons constantly leaping out of the water.  Shewn the field from whence the three youths first descried Major André: and the large white-wood tree under which he was examined.
            2 p. m.  Cast anchor; took boat and landed at the ferry-house opposite to Mount Pleasant, thirty-six miles from New York; river here four miles wide.  Climbed the mountains to visit a lake on the opposite side; large, considerably above the level of the Hudson; pike, yellow bass, and sun-fish.  Strawberries on its banks.  Much chat with Betsy, who, born and the foot of the mountain and apparently secluded from the world, said she had been a great traveller, "once to the meeting and twice to the mill."
            7 p. m,  Got under weigh; light airs from the north; progress trifling.  Came to an anchor in (p. 7) the Horse-race, foot of St. Anthony's Nose; river half a mile wide, channel from forty to fifty fathoms wide three miles above Peekskill, and forty-eight from New York; turned in at 11 p. m
Monday, June 23d.
            Turned out at 4 a. m.  Sketched a view of Fort Clinton, Fort Montgomery, St. Anthony's Nose, the Bear Mountain and surrounding scenery; highly romantic and beautiful, being the entrance of the Highlands; to the south very extensive and pleasing prospect down the through Haverstraw to Tappan Bay; dense fog on the lower part of Fort Clinton, Fort Montgomery and St. Anthony's; the site of Fort Clinton is now occupied by the handsome dwelling-house of Mr. Ducet, a french gentleman; dreary situation and without society.
            (p. 8)  5 a. m.  Took boat and landed on a small Island; filled a cask with excellent water, picked up some drift wood, and got a pitcher of milk for breakfast.
            8 a. m.  Returned and explored the Island; strange serpentine form; rocks and marsh; much scrub wood; four kinds of huckleberries, the swamp huckleberry, a tall shrub like the alder, an excellent fruit just beginning to ripen; the other still green; could only gather a few strawberries, the season being past.  Laurel and Prickly Pear in blossom; the flower of the first, white with red spots, shaped like the convolvulus; that of the Prickly Pear, yellow and in appearance like the bloom of the melon and cucumber.  Gathered the root of Sarsaparilla and a branch of Spice wood, this latter is a great sweetener of the blood and a pleasant flavor; flushed a pair of partridges or pheasants; though these birds more resemble Grouse than Partridge of Pheasant, I may here observe that the animals of America differ materially from those of the Old Continent, yet for want of more (p. 9) appropriate designations, they frequently receive the names of such European animals as they most resemble; but these names are by no means settled; for instance, what are known as Partridges in one part of the Country are called Quails in another, and these birds will alight in Trees, or on Paling.  The Hares have white flesh.  I have been informed that some Sporting Gentlemen have imported the English Red Fox as affording better diversion that the native Grey; and that although the Red Fox is the smaller animal it is the more ferocious, and is eating-out the Grey one. . . .  ***
            9 a. m.  Got under weigh; head wind.
            1 p. m.  L------ Mills, are superior to most in construction and situation, and very profitable; four pair of stones; fifty-five miles from New York; the Miller takes down a cargo of flour and returns with wheat.
            3 p. m.  Landed at West-Point, the Gibraltar of America; centre of the Highlands; fifty-eight miles from New York.  ***
            (p. 13)  9 p. m.  Got under weigh; having no wind, drifted with the tide, boat a-head towing.
            10½  p. m.  Light southerly breeze; turned the Scotch Presbyterian Minister out of the cabin and put him into the hold.  This man had given himself up to dram-drinking, which kept him in a continual state of intoxication, so that he never left his birth but for a few moments; his legs had running sores, which, being neglected, were offensive to such a degree, that the passengers had determined to pass the night on deck, unless he were put below.
            11 p. m.  Passed Butter-Hill, and the Face Mountain, the last of the Highlands.
            11½  p. m.  Turned in; the cabin being by this time tolerably ventiated.
Tuesday, June 24th.
            4 a. m.  Turned out opposite Barnegat (p. 14) and its lime-kilns, twenty miles from West Point, and seventy-eight from New York; Light southerly breeze, two knots.
            6 a. m.  Fell calm; went on shore and got a supply of milk and eggs; could not procure bread.
            7 a. m.  Light southerly air; got under weigh; hot sun.
            8 a. m.  Fine favorable breeze.
            8½  a. m.  Pough-keepsie seventy-nine miles, high wooded banks each side of the river; came up with and passed four sloops.  Esopus Island ninety-five miles from New York.  Esopus Flats one hundred miles; these flats, or shoals, throw the channell of the river on the opposite shore, where it forms a large bay; fine view here of the Katskill Mountains.  ***
            2 p. m.  Redhook one hundred miles from New York, beautiful situation; opposite to the Katskill Mountains; two Islands decorate the (p. 15) river.  We were now carried along at the rate of ten miles and hour, having scarcely time to examine the beauty of the country, through which we were so rapidly passing.
            3 p. m.   The city of Hudson,* one hundred and thirty miles; opposite to Hudson is Lunenberg, or Algiers; this latter name was given to it in consequence of the piratical practices of its inhabitants.  Above Hudson is a wind-mill; I do not know that there are four in the United States.  There are two near Newport.
            4½ p. m.  Kinderhook one hundred and forty
              *   Hudson City.  In the Autumn of 1783, Messrs. S. & T. Jenkins, from Providence, Rhode Island, fixed on the unsettled spot, where this City stands, for a town, to which the River is navigable for vessels of any size.  In the Spring of 1786, one hundred and fifty Dwelling-Houses, besides Shops, Barns, Four Warehouses, several Wharfs, Spermaceti Works, a covered Rope-Walk, and one of the best Distilleries in America, were erected; its inhabitants are at this time 1,500.  Its increase since has been very rapid.  Supplied by pipes with water from a spring two miles from the City.  In February, 1786, upwards of 1,200 Sleighs entered the City daily, for several days together.
(p. 16) miles; twenty houses; Mr. M'c Machin's is the principal one; fine view; Islands numerous in this part of the river.  Heavy thundering; took in sail: cast anchor.
            5½ p. m.  Got under weigh, in doing which, fished up an excellent and large anchor, a valuable prize for the Captain.  The gust, as expected, killed the wind; in summer I never knew an instance to the contrary.  Had the gust kept off, we should have been in Albany by seven o'clock.
            9 p. m.  The wind having entirely failed us, took the Sloop in tow, and at 7 p. m had her moored alongside a Wharf in Baltimore, one hundred and forty-five miles.  Went on shore; took with us Nicholas and his violin, the fiddle soon got the girls together; we kicked up a dance and kept it up till midnight.  Treated with spruce-beer and gingerbread.  Baltimore is a shabby place, every other house a tavern; in number about a dozen.
Wednesday, June 25th.
            3 a. m.  Not a breath of air; took Sloop in tow; not possible to see from stem to stern, yet passed a dangerous and difficult passage and a bar, which require, it is said, your having all your eyes about you.
            (p. 17)  6 a. m.  Made land; the fog beginning to disperse; put the Presbyterian Minister on shore; he is engaged by a Mr. Nichols as a tutor to his children!  Boat returned with milk for breakfast.
            7½ a. m.  Dropped anchor; took Boat and landed on High-hill Island, four miles in length; two farms; got a few sour cherries; one hundred and fifty-four miles from New York.  Crossed to the opposite or west shore, and landed at a farm house called Bethlehem, six miles from Albany;* numerous and handsome family.
            9 a. m.  Having hired a waggon, seven of our
             * Albany: settled in 1760 [?]; forty-five Sloops (Vessels) in Albany and forty-five in New York, &c., -- total ninety in the Albany trade, a bout seventy tons each -- ten voyages (twenty trips) per annum on an average; navigated by a Captain at twenty dollars per month; a Pilot at fifteen dollars; a Seaman and a Cook at nine dollars -- total four hands.  Freight twelve cents and a half per cwt., gain one hundred dollars per voyage or one thousand dollars per annum.  Passage, one dollar and twenty-five cents, average eight passengers, ten dollars a trip or two hundred dollars per annum.
            Sloop Building at Albany twenty-seven dollars and fifty cents per ton, if green wood last only ten years, seasoned wood would last thirty.  Four thousand White Inhabitants, and two thousand Black Slaves.  Revenue, 35,000.  Corporation [the City of Albany] sell the Quays (Wharf) at two dollars and fifty cents per foot of Frontage and an annual rent of eight dollars and twelve and a half cents.  Lands near the Town from sixty-three to seventy-five dollars per acres.  Labour, fifty-six and a half cents per day; in harvest, eight-seven and a half cents.  Butcher's Meat ten to twelve and a half cents per lb.  Le Duc de Liancourt in 1795.
(p. 18)  passengers took their departure.  The day being remarkably sultry, I determined to stay by the Sloop.  Returned on board with potatoes and sallad.
            Noon.  Got under weigh; light south air.
            2 pm .  Passed safely the Overslough.
            2 pm.  Albany*, one hundred and sixty miles
          *Albany. . . .  Contained, in 1797, one thousand two hundred and sixty-three buildings, of which, eight hundred and sixty-three were dwelling-houses; and six thousand and twenty-one inhabitants.  ***  The improvements in this City, within five or six years, have been very great in almost all respects.  Wharves built, Streets paves, Bank instituted.  . . . now excellent water, (an article in which this City has hitherto been extremely deficient, having been obliged to use the dirty water of the river, is about to be conducted into the various parts of the City, from a fine spring five miles from the west of the City.  Albany is unrivalled for situation, being nearly at the head of Sloop Navigation, on one of the noblest Rivers in the World.  It enjoys a salubrious air, and is the natural emporium of the increasing trade of a large extent of Country, West and North.  A Country of excellent soil, abounding in every article for the West India Market. . . .   ***  Morse.
(p. 19)  from New York.  Took up my quarters at Lewis's Tavern. . . .  Paid the Captain two dollars for passage money, and four dollars and fifty cents, for board and liquors; the same sum of six dollars and fifty cents was charged for my servant, though neither his bed or board were so good as mine.  Our passage of four days may be considered a long one, at this season of the year, yet it was a pleasant one and no way tedious.  The Hudson is one of the finest Rivers in America, and superior to them all in romantic and sublime scenery, more especially in its progress through the Highlands, a distance of sixteen miles.  What further added to the pleasantness of this trip, were our frequent expeditions on shore.  We landed seven times, and each time employed two or three hours in exploring the country.  We saw, too, the whole of the River; as we progressed but very few miles during the time we occupied our births.  We usually retired at eleven, and rose at four or five o'clock.  The shortest passage ever made on this River was by this same Sloop and Captain; he made it in sixteen hours and six minutes, from which should be deducted one hour for time occupied in landing passengers by the way.  The passage often takes a fortnight to (p. 20) perform it, and sometimes twenty-five or thirty days.  The passage is always shortest, the winds being equally favorable, up the river, as you carry the flood with you; in the other case you out-run the ebb.  Captain Donnelly has taken 1,675 Dollars passage money in one year.  ***
 
Thursday, June 20th
***
Evening.  Visit Snuff Manufactory, Stadt-house and a fine spring of water about a quarter of a mile out of town.*
***
 *  One mile North of this City, near the Manor-House of Lieutenant Governor Van Rensselaer, are very ingeniously constructed extensive and useful Works for the manufacture of Scotch and Rappee Snuffs, Roll and Cut Tobacco of different Kinds, Chocolate, Mustard, Starch, Hair-Powder, Split Peas and Hulled Barley.  ***  The whole of the Machinery is worked by water.  For the invention of this Machinery, the proprietor has obtained a patent.   Morse.
            John Maude. Visit to the Falls of Niagara in 1800. London, 1826. 

{letter from S. Howard, addressed to the Mayor] Being born in the city of London, and having had many opportunities of being an eye-witness to the amazing effects of the FLOATING ENGINES, it surprises me that you are without them, as no city in the world is better situated for water.  Two Engines would be sufficient for the purpose, which may be brought from London, and here fixt in proper Barges: the cost I will answer will not be more than 800..  Proper moorings be laid down for them, one opposite the Fly-Market, in the East River, the other opposite in the North-River, they will then be ready to move to any part where the fire should break out, and in that situation they will be able with the assistance of leather pipes of sufficient length, to meet and jointly play to the top of any house in William street.  . . . if the fire should break out near the water side, as was the case at Murray's wharf, the whole block of houses would have been saved. . . .  You will want no buckets, nor need you fear the want of water as long as there is water in the Rivers.  The Barges are constructed with wells like those of your Fishing Boats. . . .  ***
            D Advertiser, January 4, 1796, p. 2, col. 1.  The fire at Murray's wharf started December 9, 1796.
 
            The Engines lately brought from England is ordered for public inspection THIS DAY, at 1 o'clock, opposite the Tontine Coffee-house.  The Floating Engine cannot be worked till the barge is built; which will take up one month; it will then be exhibited for the inspection of the public.
            N-Y Gazette & General Advertiser, November 10, 1800, p. 3, col. 1.
 
            [letter advocating a floating fire-engine]  . . . even in this severe season, when there is almost an impossibility of getting water from the quantity of ice that surrounds the city: -- say the Barge that the Engine is in being fixt in the ice . . . , yet still there is no danger that the Engine will not work, as it draws the water from the bottom of the river. . . .  ***
            ***
            I have observed that when a fire unfortunately happens, the bells are set to work, which sounds are really terrifying -- to the fair sex I am sure it must be shocking -- and serves the purpose of calling together a set of people whose business, I am sorry to say, is too frequently nothing but plunder. . . .  THOMAS HOWARD.
            N-Y Gazette & General Advertiser, January 18, 1797, p. 2, col. 4.
 
            [two floating fire engines arrive from London]
            N-Y Gazette & General Advertiser, October 28, 1800, p. 3, col. 1.
 
            By desire of several gentlemen, the Fire Engines lately imported into this city, are to be tried to-morrow, 12 o’clock, at Burling-slip (if fair weather.)  The Firemen are respectfully desired to attend in order that they may have a fair trial, both by suction from the wet, and by the leaders into Pearl-street.
            Commercial Advertiser, November 20, 1800, p 3, col. 1.
 
            [store belonging to Mr. Saltus, Front-street, burns; $100K in damages]
            Commercial Advertiser, December 15, 1800, p,. 3, col. 2;
            [praise for  "the new modelled Engines lately brought to this city"]  The great utility and advantage of these new engines was very conspicuous; for they not only supplied other engines with water without the aid of a single bucket, but were likewise eminently useful in throwing a much larger quantity of water on the flames than any other engines in this city were capable of doing.
            Commercial Advertiser, December 17, 1800, p. 3, col. 2.
 
            On Friday evening last the ship Thomas, owned by Thos. Jenkins, of Hudson, laden with 1700 hhds flax seed, and a quantity of flour and pot ashes, drifted on shore at Corlaer's Hook and bilged; she was freighted and cleared out for Londonderry, and has now 6 or 8 feet water in her hold; but it is expected she will be got off with part of her cargo.  The fate of this ship is very singular: she was formerly the Admiral Duncan, of Liverpool, and was burned to the water's edge at this port, with a valuable cargo, after being cleared for Europe, precisely a twelve month previous to her present disaster.
            Commercial Advertiser, January 19, 1801, p. 3, col.  1

            Last evening about 9 o'clock fire was proclaimed from all directions.  The armed ship Admiral Duncan, laying at the [illegible] wharf near Coenties Slip, took fire, and in a few minutes after the discovery, was enveloped in flames -- she was cut loose and towed into the stream, where she continued till [about] 2 o'clock this morning, when, in spite of every effort, she drifted back, (the wind being high at N. E.,) and fortunately lodged on the rocks on the point of the battery, where she burnt to the water's edge.  ***
            Commercial Advertiser, January 18, 1800, p. 2, col. 5
 
                        Ship THOMAS -- late ADM. DUNCAN.
            WE, the owners of the above ship, return our thanks to the Mayor and Corporation for the loan of the late imported Fire Engine, to raise the said ship; which, with every possible assistance, we have accomplished.  At the same time, we are sensible of the service and assistance of Mr. Howell, who was directed by the Corporation to take charge of the same. . . . It is a pleasing circumstance to learn from the above letter, that we are now in possession of Engines that are found to be useful on more occasions than extinguishing fires.  It was never before suggested that they might be applied to the raising of ships or vessels sunk, but of which the circumstance above mentioned gives a most decided proof of their utility. . . .
            Commercial Advertiser, January 28, 1801, p. 3, col. 1

​On Friday 25th Jan. last, about 3 o’Clock Mr. Brookman of this town, one Thomas Slack, and a Negro of Mr. Remden’s, went off in a boat in order to shoot some water fowl, which during this hard weather have come in great numbers into the open places in the harbour, and having wounded some, pursued them till they got entangled in the ice, so that they were not able to get to land.  

​Their distress being seen from the shore here, a boat with several hands put off to their assistance, but night coming on lost sight of them, and returned. – Mean while the people in the ice drove with the tide as far as Red-Hook, and fired several guns as signals of distress.  The guns were heard on shore, but no assistance could be given them.  And as the weather was extreamly cold, it was thought they would all have perished, -- which they themselves also expected.  

​In this extremity they had recourse to every expedient in their power: There happened to be an iron pot and an ax on board – they cut off a piece of the boat roap and pick’d it to oakum, and putting it in the pan of a gun with some powder, catched it on fire, which with some thin pieces cut from the mast, they kindled in the pot, and then cut up their mast, seats, &c. for fewel, and making a tent of their sail, wrapt themselves as well as they could; when they found themselves nearly overcome with the cold, notwithstanding their fire, they exercised themselves with wresting, which proved a very happy expedient, restored their natural warmth, and no doubt greatly contributed to their preservation.

In this manner they passed the whole night, in which they suffered much cold, but happily escaped with life, and without being frost bitten: Next morning, by firing guns, they were discovered in the ice by Mr. Seabring on Long Island, who, by laying planks on the ice for near a quarter of a mile, which otherwise was not strong enough to bear a man’s weight, they all got safe on shore, without the least hurt, and returned the same day to York.

I was awfully glad when a friend proposed a trip to Saratoga.  I had been awfully jolly in New York, but New York had gone out of town, leaving nothing but its streets and its tram-cars behind it.  In London we have such a perpetual flow of visitors — over one hundred thousand daily — that a fellow doesn't so much miss the "big crowd" as here, consequently when Saratoga was decided upon I felt extremely pleased indeed.  I had heard much of the palatial river steamers, and expected much.  I was down at Pier 41 at an early hour, and found the whole place occupied by one boat.  Such a boat! white as the driven snow, and larger than many an English village.  The people kept going into her until I imagined some game was up, and that they were stepping out at the other side.  No such thing; there was room for all ay, and more.  It was something immense to see the men getting into line for the ticket-office, with as much precision as if they were on parade.  No hurry, no crush, the regular "first come, first served" business, not as with us, when the biggest man comes to the front, and muscular Christianity tops over everything.  And the luggage! Mountains of it, from enormous nickel-bound boxes, fit to carry Cleopatra's Needle, to dainty hand-bags, such as Queen Victoria's take with them when rushing at sixty miles an hour "Upon Her Majesty's Service.'

It was awfully amusing to see this mountain gradually dissolving, as truck after truck bore its load within the recesses of the palpitating Drew.  For the first time I made acquaintance with a Saratoga trunk, and from what I see of it, it seems a first class invention — for another man's wife.  Near the gangway stood a handsome, gentlemanlike man, whose semi-naval uniform looked as though cut by Smallpage, of Regent Street.  This, I was informed, was Captain Roe, one of the most courteous and best-respected captains of the sea-like rivers of America.  I was instructed by my friend to take a state-room — at home I would have asked for a berth — and, having paid my money, became intrusted with the key of a charming little bedroom, better fitted up than that of my club, and boasting an electric bell. 

As I turned out of my newly acquired apartment I was much struck by a very stylishly attired young lady, gotten up to the pitch of traveling perfection, and as new as Lord Beaconsfield's Garter.  The man with her was also as if recently turned off a lathe.  He carried a couple of hand-bags that had never seen rain or shine before.  He hung lovingly around the lady, bending over to her, whispering into her ear, touching her hand, or her dress, or her parasol.  "By Jove!" thought I, "this is a brand-new bride and bridegroom, and what a doosid [sic] queer place to select for the moon."  Mentioning tis to Captain Roe, with a smile, he ordered a portly colored stewardess to open a door tight opposite to where I stood.  "This," he said, "is the bridal chamber — we have two on board.  As the pink one happens to be occupied, I can show you the blue."  Availing myself of the captain's kindness, I entered the [room], which is a symphony in blue and white, with a ceiling resembling a wedding-cake.  It is sixteen feet long, twelve broad, and nine feet high, and piquante as a boudoirette in Le Petit Trianon.  The walls are white, supported by fluted pillars with gilt capitals; the cornices of gold, and in each corner stands a statuette of Cupid.  The ceiling is a perfect broidery of white and pink and gold, frozen lace-work, ornamented with medallions representing appropriate scenes in mythological history.  Wreaths of orange blossoms entwined with forget-me-nots decorate it, within which are amorous love-birds, while in the centre of the ceiling, in relief, a pair of turtle doves bill and coo upon a perch composed of hymeneal torches, and the new spent arrows of the rosy god.  The chamber is lighted by two windows, hung with blue satin curtains trimmed with gold fringe, the inner curtain being of lace.  A mirror, whose gilt frame is composed of Cupids and orange-blossoms, extends from floor to ceiling; an inlaid table upon which is placed a richly chased tray, with ice pitcher and goblets, an easy-chair a caressing lounge, a rosewood toilet-stand fitted n blue, and the bed, constitute the furniture of this fairy-like apartment.  Such a bed! rosewood, gilt to the carpet, with a blue satin spread covered with real lace, pillows to match, and a rug as soft as the tenderest sigh ever breathed by love-stricken swain.  The president of the company, too, is the happy possessor of a special room fitted up in the extremity of good taste.

​A gong sounded for dinner, and, following a strong lead, as we do at whist, I found myself in a large, brilliantly-lighted apartment, set with several tables.  The menu was extensive enough to meet the requirements of the most exacting appetite, while the viands bore witness to skillful cookery.  After dinner I went for a stroll, yea, a veritable stroll — always striking against the bride and bridegroom — in a saloon picked out in white and gold, the chandeliers burning gas, and the motion being so imperceptible that the glass drops did not even waggle — on a carpet fit for Buckingham Palace, and in a grove of sumptuous furniture; then for'ard, where many gentlemen in straw hats were engaged in discussing the chances of General Grant for something or other, I know not what; then aft, where many ladies sat in picturesque traveling attitudes, gazing at the soft outlines of the shore on either hand, some alone and some doing the next best thing to flirting.

What a sleep I had!  No more motion than if I was at the club.  No noise, no confounded fume of train-oil and its rancid confrères.  I slept like a humming-bird, and next morning found myself at Albany.  This place is on a hill, surmounted by a white marble building, and Capitol, which, when competed, will be an awfully imposing affair.  I took the train for Saratoga —  a drawing-room car — and such a boudoirette on wheels! —  I felt as if I was in a club-window all the time.

Saratoga is awfully jolly.  It is the best thing I have seen, with its main street as wide as the Boulevard Malesherbe or Haussman, and lined for a mile and a half with magnificent elms, which shade hotels as big as some European towns.  It is always thronged with carriages just like Rotten Row in the season, and lots of people on horseback.  The piazzas of the hotels are crowded with stunningly pretty girls, dressed, all over the place.  Overhead is an Italian sky, blue as sapphire, and a golden tropical light falls around, picking out the shadows in dazzling contrast.  "I guess," as the Americans say, I'll drive my stakes pretty deep here.

The assassination of Abraham Lincoln on April 15, 1865 shocked the nation. Six days after his death, an ornate, nine-car funeral train left Washington, D.C. for Lincoln’s home in Springfield, Illinois. The train carried Lincoln’s body as well as the remains of his son William Wallace Lincoln, also known as Willie, who had died of typhoid in 1862 at the age of 11. Pulled by a steam locomotive carrying Lincoln’s framed portrait and a wreath on the front, the nine cars were draped in black bunting and included a car for the hearse and horses, the President’s car, which was retrofitted as a hearse for the two caskets, as well as accommodations for family, an honor guard consisting of Union generals and other military brass, and funeral procession personnel, including an embalmer, who had the somewhat gruesome task of re-embalming Lincoln’s body between stops. Mary Todd Lincoln, distraught by her husband’s violent death, did not accompany the train home.

Traveling an extensive route designed to pass through most major cities in the Northeast, the train arrived in New York City on April 24, 1865. Lincoln’s casket was removed from the train and processed through the city for the thousands of mourners who gathered to see his body. 

​After the procession, the train departed New York City at 4:15 PM on April 25 and traveled through the evening and overnight, reaching Albany at 1:55 AM on April 26. Traveling up the east shore of the Hudson River, the train passed through many stations, watched by mournful New Yorkers as it made its way to Illinois.
​
Perhaps because the train’s journey through the Hudson Valley took place largely at night, in the years after experienced railroad men began to report strange sightings. In the days before automation, trackmen and line workers often worked at night, caring for the rails, operating switches, and manning signal and water stations.

On September 13, 1879, the Rockland County Journal published "A Railroad Ghost Story," reprinted from the Fishkill Standard, which is excerpted below in its entirety. 

A RAILROAD GHOST STORY.
"An exchange tells the following tale. — We do not remember having seen it before. It was related among a number of other railroad stories. The writer says: "Then was narrated a weird story about an apparition of a train on the Hudson River Railroad. It was told with an effort at sincerity that did not deceive the listener, but I am told that there are many trackmen and laborers along the line of the Hudson River Railroad who pretend to have seen the spectacle. The tale was about a mystic counterpart of the funeral train that bore Abraham Lincoln's remains from New York City to the West. The actual and substantial train passed over the road on a certain day in April, 1865. The car that contained the President's remains was heavily draped, I believe. It is said that on that night, every year, all the train men that are on the road at a certain hour (that varies in various subdivisions of the road), hear and see and feel the spectre train rush by them. It sounds hollow and awful. Its lights are yellow, pale and funeral. Its train hands and passengers are sepulchral figures. It looks like the outline of a train, yet every detail is perfect. Those who have seen it say, though they felt that it was only a vision, that a man could walk through it if he dared, or throw a stone through it; yet it seems perfect in everything but substantialness. It even carries with it a whirl of wind as fast as trains do, but it is a cold, clammy, grave-like atmosphere, all its own. As it passes another train the shriek of its whistle and clang of its bell strike terror to the hearts of those that hear them." 

​Have you ever seen Lincoln's ghost train? If you haven't you'll have to wait until April 25th of next year to see if you can catch a glimpse. Happy Halloween!

2021 is the 100th anniversary of the Jeffrey's Hook Lighthouse installation, but a pair of lanterns on a tall pole (often called post lights) were the first aid to navigation at Jeffrey's Hook, which is a rocky outcropping at the base of Washington Heights and dangerously close to the shipping channel. Installed in 1889, the lanterns shone red to warn mariners away from the hook.

Very few records of the keepers of the post light, and even the lighthouse itself, remain. However, when doing research for the upcoming lighthouse film, we ran across this intriguing pair of newspaper articles from 1891 featuring keeper Patrick Roach and his family. The articles below were published in the New York Herald on November 26 and 27, 1891 and are reproduced here in their entirety, transcribed by Sarah Wassberg Johnson.

“A Woman’s Leap From Fire: Husband and Daughter Dragged From Windows of the Burning Shanty”
New York Herald, November 26, 1891
The family of Patrick Roach had a narrow escape last night from burning to death. Their home in 175th street, near Kingsbridge avenue, was set on fire, it is supposed, by young ruffians of the neighborhood who bore them a grudge.

The house, a two story frame shanty, stood on a rock twenty feet high, just back from the street. Roach is keeper in Jeffrey’s Hook Lighthouse and he lived in the shanty with his wife, Bridget, and Mary, his nineteen-year-old daughter.

The family spent last evening preparing for their Thanksgiving dinner. Roach left the kitchen early, and went to a room adjoining to lie down. A little later Mrs. Roach went upstairs to go to bed, and Mary was left alone.

FLAMES ALL AROUND THE GIRL
She sat in the corner of the kitchen reading by the light of a lamp on the table. Presently she heard a low rumbling sound in the opposite corner of the room and saw a flame shoot up from the floor. Other flames shot up all around her, and the terrified girl ran to the door leading up stairs and shouted to her mother that the house was afire.

Then Mary, in an effort to get out, began to dodge the flames that were fast filling the room, Suddenly the window was thrown open and a man put in his arm and lifted Mary out.

By this time Roach had awakened and skipped into the glazing kitchen. The smoke and flames were nearly suffocating him when a man came to his rescue and dragged him out of the window.

Mrs. Roach tried to go down stairs, but the smoke drove her back. She went to the window. “Jump!” shouted the crowd that had gathered in the street.

DO NOT KNOW THEIR RESCUER
Out the window sprang Mrs. Roach and landed on the street thirty-five feet below, bruised and shocked, but with no bones broken.

The fire burned up everything in the house and left very little of the house standing. Mary’s hands were badly burned and her father was burned on the hands, arms and legs. They refused to go to a hospital and sought shelter at a neighbor’s house.

Neither knew the man who had rescued them, and he did not make his presence known after he got them safely out of the house. There may have been two rescuers for all Roach and his daughter knew.

The Roaches told me that they had strong suspicions that the fire was started by a gang of young teamsters, known as the McDowell gang, who hang about the neighborhood, do mischief at night and play ball on Sunday. Sometimes their ball would be thrown into Roache’s [sic] house, and one day Mary kept it. The next day Mary was hit with a baseball thrown at her and she complained to the Washington Heights police, who stopped the ball playing.

Since then the rowdies have talked of being recognized and the other night Mrs. Roach’s sister, while passing the gang, heard them say that they were going to “get even” with “Paddy” Roach.

No arrests were made last night.

“This Fire Still a Mystery”
New York Herald, November 27, 1891
The Roach family, whose two story shanty on the rocks in 175th street, near Kingsbridge road, was burned Thanksgiving eve, insist that the house was set on fire. The police of the Washington Heights police station pooh-pooh the idea and are making no investigation.

Roach and his daughter believe that members of the McDonald gang set the shanty afire. The family have had trouble with the gang and Miss Roach says the young fellows have threatened several times to force them to leave the neighborhood.

How the person or persons who dragged the members of the family out of the burning building happened to be on hand so soon after the fire broke out is a mystery if the rescuers were not the incendiaries. The Roaches were too much excited to recognize the rescuers.
​
Roach is keeper of the Jeffrey’s Hook lighthouse at Fort Washington. Some government papers were destroyed in the fire. Roach and his daughter were painfully but not seriously burned. They are being cared for by relatives. 

Today's Media Monday post is a fun one! In 1962, "News of the Day" with Peter Roberts issued this short newsreel about Theresa Scozzafava of Jones Point, NY, who was suing the federal government for rent for the Hudson River Reserve Fleet, also known as the "mothball fleet." Check out the newsreel below, then keep reading for the whole story!

Theresa Scozzafava did, indeed sue the federal government and her court case was featured in the New York Times and the Kingston Daily Freeman. Here's what the Times had to say on March 14, 1962:

“U.S. Is Sued Over a Fleet in ‘Front Yard’ – Grandmother Seeks $10,000 Rent for Mothball Ships”

A 77-year-old grandmother will have her day in court soon in an effort to collection $10,000 from the Federal Government. She contends the Government has been parking a fleet of ships in her front yard on the Hudson River.

Mrs. Theresa Scozzafava, who lives in a gray, wood-shingled house in Jones Point, a hamlet in Rockland County, N.Y., says the Government owes the money for anchoring its mothball fleet in the Hudson in front of her property.

In her suit, filed in the Federal court for the Southern District of New York, Mrs. Scozzafava claims underwater rights extending 250 feet into the Hudson along 365 feet of the shoreline.

The suit, filed in February, 1960, contends that Mrs. Scozzafava, who is the mother of ten children, all of whom are living, acquired the underwater rights by becoming the successor of grants made by the State of New York dating back to 1814.

In May, 1960, the Government entered a challenge against the suit, arguing that the court had no jurisdiction in the matter and that the ships, known formally as the Hudson River Reserve Fleet, were in a navigable river. The Government’s challenge was denied by Judge William B. Herlands, who said the issue would have to be settled in court.

The reserve fleet numbers about 190 ships, of which about fifty are used for the storage of grain. The number of ships varies because periodically tugboats pull the grain ships down to New York Harbor, where the grain is transferred to elevators or blown into barges for eventual export. When the grain ships are emptied, they are tugged back to the reserve fleet.

The spry, white-haired grandmother has been collecting $25 a month rent from the Government since March 20, 1946. The rent was for the use of a dock and for parking privileges for Government workers’ automobiles.

Rent Increase Sought
When the Government’s lease expired in 1960, Mrs. Scozzafava, who had by then acquired additional property when her husband, Bernardo, died in 1950, sought to increase the rent.

“They offered me $25 a month and told me to ‘take it or leave it,’” she said yesterday. “I told them to take their ships away.”

In late June of 1960, Mrs. Scozzafava said, several tugboats were used to pull the ships away from her underwater property. “That proves,” she said, “they knew I was right.”

However, she contends, the ships are still infringing on her property.

Mrs. Scozzafava was joined in the suit by her daughter, Mary Springstead, and her daughter’s husband, Wesley, who also owns property along the Hudson River.

Mrs. Springstead, 53, describes her mother as a “very active woman.”

“She did the Twist last New Year’s Eve and she has a few scotches every once in a while,” the daughter said.

Sadly, Mrs. Scozzafava and her daughter did not get their day in court. According to a New York Times article published April 14, 1962, the case was dismissed by mutual consent. Mrs. Scozzafava and Mary Springstead did not want to engage in a long, drawn out court case, and so dropped the suit due to health reasons.

The Hudson River Reserve Fleet was removed from Jones Point less than a decade later. Most of the fleet was moved to the James River Reserve Fleet in Virginia, in close proximity to the Naval base at Norfolk, VA. The last of the ships left in the Hudson River were towed away for scrap on July 8, 1971. 

​​If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​

Editor's note: the following engraving and text were originally published in Gleason's Pictorial Drawing Room Companion, December 25, 1852. Thanks to volunteer researcher George A. Thompson for finding and cataloging this article. The article was transcribed by Sarah Wassberg Johnson, and includes paragraph breaks and bullets not present in the original, to make it easier to read for modern audiences.

Next to the immense foreign export and import trade, comes the inland trade. The whole of the western country from Lake Superior finds a depot at New York. The larger quantity of produce finds its way to the Erie Canal, from thence to the Hudson River to New York.

The canal boats run from New York to Buffalo, and vice versa. These boats are made very strong, being bound round by extra guards, to protect them from the many thumps they are subject to. They are towed from Albany to New York - from ten to twenty - by a steamboat, loaded with all the luxuries of the West.

The view represented above is taken from Pier No. 1, East River, giving a slight idea of the immense trade which, next to foreign trade, sets New York alive with action. We subjoin from a late census a schedule of the trade; the depot of which, and the modus operandi, Mr. Wade, our artist, has represented in the engraving above, is so truthful and lifelike a manner.

​In 1840, there were

• 474,543 horses and mules,
  
• 1,911,244 neat cattle,
  
• 5,118,777 sheep,
  
• 1,900,065 swine,
  
• poultry valued at $1,153413,
  
• 12,286,418 bushels of wheat,
  
• 2,520,060 do. [the same] of buckwheat,
  
• 10,972,286 do. of Indian corn,
  
• 9,845,295 lbs. of wool,
  
• 447,250 do. of hops,
  
• 30,133,614 bushels of potatoes,
  
• 3,127,047 tons of hay,
  
• 10,048,109 pounds of sugar,
  
• 1,735 lbs. of silk cocoons;
  
• the products of the dairy, $10,496,021;
  
• the orchard, $1,701,935;
  
• lumber, $3,891,302;
  
• 6,799 gallons of wine.
  

​In this connection we may say, the Hudson and Erie Canal is a noble work of enterprise. It passes from Albany along the western bank of the Hudson River, until it meets the Mohawk; then runs, in a northwesterly direction, up the southwestern bank of the river, to the town of Rome, where it turns more westerly, on a summit level of about sixty miles, without a lock, and, passing in a line corresponding, in some measure, to the direction of the southern shore of Lake Ontario, and crossing the Seneca and Genesee Rivers in its course, communicates with Lake Erie at Buffalo, 363 miles from Albany. But canals are fast giving place to railroads, speed in business being the order of the day.

​If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​

Editor's note: The following newspaper article, "Local Attractions on the Fourth" was originally published in the Kingston Daily Freeman on July 3, 1907. It was found and transcribed by Sarah Wassberg Johnson. Note the sarcasm of the introduction and the repetition of events at the end. Perhaps the newspaper editor needed to take up more space in the column?

​WHERE KINGSTON FOLKS MAY GO TO CELEBRATE THE HOLIDAY IF THEY DO NOT WANT TO SHOOT FIRECRACKERS UNDER THEIR OWN VINE AND FIG TREE

How to spend the Fourth of July is a problem that need not cause much worry to Kingstonians.

First of all they should stay at home and shoot off firecrackers. They should begin early in the morning, fire the crackers at regular and frequent intervals all day long, and continue the noise-making process until far into the evening. In case they are compelled to leave home for a few minutes or an hour or so, someone else should be kept on the job, so that noise may shoot forth continuously.

Noise, and plenty of it, will please the neighbors, and put them in a pleasant frame of mind. A good plan is to have a few accidents around the neighborhood, because this will make the day remembered, make business for the doctors, and furnish news for the newspapers. Cannon crackers, cannon and loose powder are best adapted for accident purposes, although Roman candles and sky rockets are also good. Everyone who wants to have an accident should be sure to lay in a supply of fire-stuffs. But above every other consideration should be a determination to make noise, for noise is a symbol of patriotism – on Fourth of July.

For people who wish to get up early in the morning, and that will be easy for the beginning of the day’s celebration will undoubtedly keep them awake, the Mary Powell excursion is recommended. The boat will make an excursion to New York city at a low rate and the boat will leave Rondout at 6 o’clock in the morning. Returning, the Mary Powell will leave Desbrosses street at 1:45 p.m.; Forty-second street at 2 p.m., reaching Kingston in time for the fireworks display at Kingston Point Park. After the fireworks display the Powell will make a special trip to Poughkeepsie and return, reaching Rondout at about 11:30 o’clock in the evening.

​Several baseball games will be played, and fans will have an opportunity of witnessing some good playing. The Mystics and the Wilburs will play two games at the Athletic Field, each game being for $50 a side. The first game will be called at ten o’clock in the morning and the second game at 3:30 o’clock in the afternoon. At ten o’clock in the morning the employes [sic] of the B. Loughran Company will play the employes [sic] of the Henry E. Wieber Company at Kingston Driving Park and a fast and snappy game is expected.

Saugerties will attract hundreds of visitors from all parts of Ulster county, for Saugerties is to have an old fashioned celebration. A parade of the firemen and patriotic and other societies will be held at 9:30 o’clock in the morning, to be followed at 11:15 o’clock by patriotic exercises on the lawn of the Reformed Church. The Declaration of Independence will be delivered by the Hon. Joseph A. Lawson of Albany, after which patriotic songs will be sung by the Saugerties Male Quartet. Gartland’s famous band of Albany has been engaged for the occasion and will also give concerts during the morning, afternoon, and evening. In the afternoon a baseball game will be played by Kingston and Saugerties teams and in the evening $1,000 worth of fireworks will be burned.

For those whose inclinations are for sports, races will be held at the New Paltz driving park, which scores from this city will attend.

The villages of Griffin’s Corners and Fleischmanns will have a celebration similar to that of Saugerties, but not on so large a scale. The trip up the Ulster & Delaware railroad to these villages will make a delightful day’s outing, which will be taken advantage of by many.

Newburgh and Poughkeepsie will probably draw some Kingstonians, although those cities have no attractions to offer aside from the fact that the Hudson river flows past them after it has passed Kingston.

Morphy will sing to beat the band at Kingston Point during the afternoon and evening, although the band will be augmented by three additional musicians, all of whom are soloists. The Point, by the way, will be the Mecca of thousands of people from Kingston city, Ulster county, and from all points along the river. Kingston Point Park is too well known to need any eulogy.

Editor's note: "Passages From The Diary Of A Transatlantic Traveller" was originally published as part of a series in The Leicester Chronicle (Leicester, England) on February 9, 1839. In this installment, our visiting Englishman is not particularly happy to be traveling aboard a packet boat on the Erie Canal. Read on for the full account. Many thanks to volunteer researcher George M. Thompson for finding and transcribing this historic newspaper article.

​April 24th. -- Sailed up the North River to Albany, passed West Point and the Highlands -- the day was raw and wet, and the mountain heights were wrapt in clouds, so that I viewed the scenery to a very great disadvantage.  Took the railroad to Utica, and the canal-boat from thence to Buffalo; this was a long and tedious sail, but though I feared it would be disagreeable, I preferred it to riding in coaches, over bad roads, to the grievous prejudice of my bones.  These packet boats go five miles and hour, and carry thirty, forty, or fifty passengers at a time.  The ladies have a part of the cabin appropriated to themselves, which they can separate by merely drawing a curtain across if they choose.  They have a further forward cabin for the night.  I was struck with the singularity and ingenuity of our arrangements.  About nine o'clock the steward rings a bell, when all the men turn out on deck; the sailors then sling up thirty or forty berths, to small hooks in the sides and roofs, and in an incredibly short time the whole cabin is converted into a sleeping apartment, and you are at liberty to turn in.  Your berths are numbered, and you take one which corresponds to the number on your ticket.  I was almost afraid to trust myself in one of them, but there being no alternative I laid myself on the shelf, with a Yankee lying in a berth above, and another in a berth below me.  If the slight ropes which held up the Yankee above me had given way, I must infallibly have been crushed, and perhaps our accumulated weight would have crushed the poor fellow below, and subsequently some poor wight on the floor. 

​I had sundry misgivings on this scene, which rather disinclined me to sleep, and the hot, nauseating, suffocating, stifling air, caused by the breathing of fifty human beings (for there were a dozen lying on the floor) in the small compass of a canal-boat, made me quite ready to turn out at an early hour, to go on deck and breathe.  At five o'clock we were called up by sound of bell, "to scent the morning air." -- It, however, was miserably cold; so that between the close cabin, and the cold damp air of the deck, it was utterly impossible for any Christian man to avoid "cold and rheum, pthisic and catarrh."  We were summoned at eight o'clock to breakfast, dined at one, supped at six, and were slung up in our hammock again at nine.  This I endured for three days: it was not very pleasant, but I doubt whether it is possible to make canal-boats agreeable under any circumstances; travelling in this way must necessarily be tedious at the best.  The last morning on coming on deck, the opposite shore of a rapid river along which we were sailing was pointed out, with a remark, that that was a part of her Majesty's dominions.  As it was the first time I had ever seen her transatlantic colonies, I necessarily regarded them with considerable interest: there was nothing, however, different in point of appearance from the general features of the country I had seen for the last few days: I intend to see Canada more in detail in the course of another week.  

Poor Englishman! That Canada looked just like New York! How disappointing. He just doesn't seem to have the right attitude for travel, does he?

If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​