GOVERNOR"S ISLAND. Nature seems to have placed this spot at the entrance of our
harbour, on purpose for a pleasurable occasional retreat to the citizens of New-York
during the spring, summer and fall seasons. The soil, naturally good, and consisting of
about seventy-five acres, when improved into walks, groves and gardens, cannot
otherwise than present a delightful scene of recreation to the man of taste, particularly
after the fatigues and cares of business. The distance from the city is about three
quarters of a mile, being a safe and easy passage, and free from the inconveniencies
and expence which the Philadelphians experience in their three miles ride, through a
suffocating species of dust, from that city to Gray’s gardens. As improvements, in this
view, are now begun on Governor’s island, a house and summer houses erected, and
several thousand trees planted out, we may soon expect to see it metamorphosed from
a neglected spot, into a seat of taste and rural elegance. The island abounds with
excellent fresh water; and a clean gravelly shore, washed by waves that are poured in
upon us, twice every twenty four hours, directly from the bosom of the Atlantic, attended
by a fresh sea breeze, offers every inducement to gratification, to those who are fond of
bathing and swimming, or wading in the water. The prospect from the plains and rising
grounds is delightful; on one side a spacious and beautiful bay, covered with vessels of
every description, either leaving or coming into port, from all parts of the continent, and
every quarter of the globe: That part of the Sound called the East River, and the
majestic Hudson, who invites the eye to follow his waves a considerable distance, as
they roll toward the mountains of the north, form a grand and picturesque scene on two
other sides, and to be equalled in few situations, in this or any other country. The city of
New-York, (the Naples of America) exhibits from this place, an elegant appearance,
which will daily become more so, as the improvements are completed in the
neighbourhood of the old battery, and new buildings erected in the place of stables,
barracks, and other petty edifices, which ought always to be in the back ground or less
noticed parts of a large city.

October 15th [1783].   We went to the boat which was already full of passengers; they were all, as they say in America, gentlemen, that is, merchants, butchers, laborers, on their way to Albany to clear themselves of the suspicion of Toryism.  They drank all day in order to forget their situation.  If to be a bore were a crime, they all certainly deserved to be hanged.  The greatest annoyance to me was that the wind was adverse and the ebb was too strong.  It seemed that I should be obliged to stay a few days in this company.  
           
The Hudson is, without doubt, one of the most beautiful and extraordinary rivers in the world.  It flows straightly from north to south and often forces its way through a chain of mountains which it divides perpendicularly; it is more like a perfect canal which a human had led through the rocks.  It would be impossible to describe the astonishing impressions, picturesque situations and charming banks of this river.  The most talented painter, a poet of a most exuberant imagination could only give a feeble notion of it.  Nature did everything to this land, and art as yet spoiled nothing in it; everything there breathes majesty, a greatness which astonishes man, and a variety which charms him.  Because of insufficient tide and steady adverse winds we cast anchor six miles from the city, opposite the beautiful house of Mr. Apthorp, one of our traveling companions who was accused of being a Tory and had to go to Albany to clear himself.  His house, built well and with great taste, has a spacious garden, perfectly planned, with a giant rock in the middle of the yard; one can see from thence both rivers, the East River and the Hudson, which water both sides of the island.
           
October 16th.  At 11 in the morning the wind blew from the south and we set out on our way.  The weather was beautiful, nearly as warm as in Summer.  We had plenty of leisure to observe the charming banks of New Jersey in all their beauty.  They are covered with impenetrable forests which look as if they grow on rocks; the rocks rising perpendicularly over the water or scattered at random present a picture of immense disorder.  In one hour we made as much progress as we made (p. 126) all day yesterday with so much difficulty and passed near Forts Lee and Knyphausen.  The latter was called Fort Washington before it was captured by Gen. Howe.  It is still guarded by British troops whose lines extend to King's Bridge, or rather to a small natural port Spuyten-Duyvil, in the northern part of Manhattan.  The American pickets are stationed on the opposite bank.  We saw two hostile sentries holding a peaceful conversation.
           
From Spuyten-Duyvil to the Croton River we sailed along the estate of Philipse's; it extends nearly twenty four miles along the bank and reaches from four to five miles in depth.  This land is of high value and best cultivated in the State of New York; it is now to be taken from the proprietor, confiscated and sold.  The old Colonel pays for his loyalty to His Majesty, the British King, with a loss of an estate worth nearly a million pounds sterling yearly and is left with his wife and children to the discretion of the British parliament.  I saw him at New York, broken down with age and sickness; he was preparing to leave his country and follow the rest of the British army.
           
The river widens here and forms a large lake which the Dutch called Tappan Sea; the name was preserved till now.  Before entering a place which is called Rockland, one crosses the boundary of New Jersey; beyond that point both banks belong to New York.  Tappan Sea is nearly five miles long.  The river then resumes its usual width.  To the east we see a land cultivated very carefully; the houses, settlements, and mills fill the valley and adorn the highlands, while the western part preserves constantly its wild beauty.  The mountains which present an array of cliffs and dense forests seen to indicate a very monotonous view, but the skilled hand of nature scattered this deformed material with such an art and placed it in situations se well chosen that it forms an unbroken chain which enchants the eye.  On top of one of the highest peaks we saw a large pile of dried wood together with various combustible materials and we were informed that such precautions extend to Albany and served as signals in case a move by the British army or fleet.
           
Our attention was called also to a very lofty peak on which there is a lake, where very good fish can be caught.  A mile beyond this point the land begins to grow level on both sides and the river widens again and forms a kind of bay which has preserved its old Dutch name Haverstraw-Bay.  But the river does not long enjoy this enlargement; two capes, Stony Point and Verplancks Point, close it in and form a kind of narrows.  These two important (p. 127) points were captured by Henry Clinton in 1777, but two years later General Wayne attacked Col. Johnson at Stony Point and took him prisoner with all his men; the timely action of Col. Webster of the 33rd Regiment saved Verplancks.
           
I forgot to mention that on this side of Stony Point we saw the small house of Mr. Smith, where the inquisitive Andre and Gen. Arnold had their meetings; I was told that Arnold was not the only one in his family who was cheated and that love strew with flowers the way which brought the Major to his degrading death.
           
If this be true, then I do not know of any more unhappy end than the one which this young officer had found; but let us hope that some day an impartial historian combining this dolorous war with the fate of this unhappy man will do justice to his virtue and will console his tormented soul.
           
From Stony Point the mountains rise higher and higher, and the bed of the river becomes narrower and narrower; the river is deeper here, but not swifter; it flows majestically and is in no hurry to leave its beautiful banks.
           
It is difficult to imagine surrounding more romantic than these.  The pen of Ariosto could not invent a like miracle.  One breathes here a mild melancholy; and deep silence which reigns here invites one to meditation and opens a broad vista to the imagination.
           
It was after sunset when we passed between the rocks.  The pale moonlight illumined the mountain tops which bowed, as if vaults over our heads; looking at my reflection in the clear and tranquil water I remained in ecstasy for a few moments, but I awoke soon when the ship trembled slightly as she started to move forward.

We passed quickly the Forts Clinton and Montgomery which were captured by the British after a stubborn defense.  The young Count Grabowski was killed there in the attack; he was a Captain of the English army and gained the friendship and respect of his generals.
           
The wind which gained entrance into these narrows began to blow with greater force and carried us off sooner than I wanted.  It was eight o'clock when we disembarked at West Point where we had to stop.  Gen. Knox to whom we handed the letters from Gen. Washington was so good that he invited us to his house, and as I spent a very bad night on the boat, I felt happy finding myself in a tolerably good bed.
           
October 17.  This morning I saw from the windows of my room two regiments of infantry; they looked quite well in arms.  Those who are accustomed to the appearance of the European soldiers would not be satisfied with the manner in which American soldiers go through their exercises.  They would find in them neither that martial step, nor that admirable coordination which particularly distinguishes the German army.  Yet these men and the militia so badly drilled forced two whole armies, excellently disciplined and presenting a formidable array, to surrender.
            
Opposite West Point is Constitution Island.  A chain stretched from one bank to the other completely closes the passage.
           
The highest of the forts is called Fort Putnam; when Arnold planned his treason, he ordered a large breach to be made there leading the American officers to believe that he did it to enlarge the interior of the fort.  All these fortifications are in poor condition, but nature herself contributed abundantly to their defense; the towering rocks everywhere make them nearly impregnable, and even the smallest handful of men skilfully managed would be able to stop a large army here.  The rest of the American army is camping on a small plain at the foot of the (p. 129) mountains.  We were assured that it numbers nearly four thousand men, but I hardly believe it to be that large.
           
At noon we left our General; he is an ardent Republican, formerly a bookseller in Boston; he was one of the first of the 'rebels' and one of the most enthusiastic supporters of the Revolution.  He lent us his boat which conveyed us to Poughkeepsie in less than five hours.  After we left the narrows formed by West Point and Constitution Island, we saw another small island called Pollopells.  Though both banks are rather well cultivated, their aspect is less pleasing; one does not meet here those charming pictures which distinguish the vicinity of West Point.  We saw several iron foundries, but the British army destroyed the settlements.  The surrounding woods are mostly oaks, pines and cedars and greatly facilitate the mining of iron ore.  This mining is easy, anyhow, as the mineral is found on the surface of the earth.  I read during the day the English translation of the Travels of Peter Kalm; it amuses me especially by its exaggerated exactness; the author omits no story which he heard from the people.  I think he was a better botanist than historian, for everything which he describes of the herbs and trees of this land is instructive.
           
We were much dissatisfied when, after arriving at Poughkeepsie, we learned that Gov. Clinton was away; we were especially recommended to him and I hoped that he would give me accurate information concerning this State and some events of the Revolution.  His mother-in-law whom we found at home received us very hospitably; she is 74 years of age, a Presbyterian; her hospitality and kindness were extraordinary.
           
October 18th.  We expected to leave this morning and to reach the Livingston Manor by land, but it rained all day; and since the carriages used here are not covered, we preferred to stay and await better weather.  I used my leisure time in arranging the material for my diary and in supplying you with a few of the particulars still wanting to complete the picture of American customs and manners.  It may be taken as an axiom that a traveler dining each day with a different host will eat for a month the same kind of dishes prepared in the same manner.  The table of a general, a governor, a tenant or an inn-keeper is similar in all respects: mutton, beef, pork; pork, beef, mutton; beef, mutton, pork -- these are the fundamental articles of food at each meal.  It consists mostly of two large pieces of meat served with potatoes and with various salads.  I saw only one exception to this rule, and this was in the home (p. 130) of the richest citizen of Philadelphia at a dinner for twenty persons.
           
They are accustomed here to satisfy the appetite, not to irritate it; to be sure, those two large pieces are sufficient for anyone to eat his fill.
           
The poorest tenant in American eats more meat in one week than many a European farmer does, even in the countries where he fares best, in a whole year.  Rum mixed with water is the most popular drink, but you can find Portwine or Madeira everywhere.  Here they make excellent beer from molasses and some kind of fir-tree, called spruce-beer.  All inventions which make life more comfortable and pleasant, all luxuries are unknown to them, except in the cities; and even there these are very rare.  But those few pieces of furniture which serve their daily use are kept with cleanliness and elegance unseen in our countries.
           
October 19th.  We had a shower this morning; a very strong northern gale did not stop the rain.  We remained the whole day with our good old lady and with Mr. Benson, which whom I discussed the tax system of this province.  I also looked over a large book of laws of this State and saw that here, as everywhere, their sphere of application is very limited and their conception evidently contingent.
           
As to the tax system it may be said it is very imperfect and even arbitrary, and subject to many formalities.
           
October 20th.  On rising from my bed this morning I saw the tops of the Catskill mountains covered with snow; the weather was rather frosty, but clear, and the wind quieted completely; we decided to set out and bid farewell to our hosts.  I was sorry that we could not travel by water, but the wind was adverse and, moreover, we could not find a boat.  The only way to travel in this land when one has not his own horses is to hire a small wagon which makes nearly forty miles a day; these carriages are very inconvenient, especially when the roads are bad as they are now, but it is possible to suffer this fatigue, and, I think, it makes itself less felt if one travels far, than if one does so on horseback.  You can cross the whole of America in these wagons and reach the most remote points; and though the inns are not situated most conveniently, there is always something to eat -- good bread, fresh butter, potatoes, which are much more tasteful than the European, and often good mutton; this is a very good meal after a whole morning of shaking and fasting.  One often finds inns with beds, but it is safer to have one's own mattress and cover.  Fresh straw is more comfortable than an old bed, which is frequently full of vermin and never clean enough to assure the traveler a restful night.

We left Poughkeepsie at ten o'clock and for some time followed the bank of our beautiful river.  The ground was a little elevated and overlooking the banks of the river; after viewing sufficiently the fertile fields which the river waters, our eyes rested on the endless chains of bluish mountains.  Their tops covered with snow presented us a picture of severe winter, while we in the valley enjoyed a moderate temperature.  Often the turning of the road or a rock projecting from the water covered the view before us, but soon our attention was attracted to another surprise and the eyes, sensible to casual impression, forgot quickly what they beheld a moment before.
           
We soon saw the ruins of Kingston which was burnt by Gen. Vaughan who was sent with Henry Clinton to help Burgoyne.  These two Generals said that they came here in vain because he whom they had to join, no longer needed their help.  They burned all the houses here.  Several inhabitants perished in the flames.  Instead of going to Albany, which was then without a garrison and where the Americans had their stores and about two thousand sick in the hospital, they returned whence they came and a most terrible devastation was the only result of their expedition.   
           
We lost sight of the river two miles from Esopus and passed the forests of Rhinebeck Township; this region throughout its extension has nothing remarkable except that its inhabitants are mostly Germans or Dutchmen; they speak bad English and their accent is wholly foreign.  We saw on our way as many churches as houses and observed that the inhabitants of this region are better devotees than farmers.  In the main this country is badly cultivated and the forests are destroyed in such a manner that their absence will soon be painfully felt.  When they want to clear an acre of land, they set fire to the trees which cover it; many trees still show incisions which they make to get resin used in making pitch and tar.  All fences are made of timber and are built with imprudent waste; no wonder that we failed to see even one hundred large trees in a stretch of twelve miles.
           
At about five in the afternoon, leaving  [?] Albany county, we turned on our way to see Chancellor Livingston; this excursion brought us again to the banks of the river.  ***  His house had been burnt by the British and only recently rebuilt; we were received very hospitably and spent the evening very agreeably; therefore, it required much courage to leave such a charming place the next morning.  The house is situated very delightfully; the family occupying it is kind, and every traveler after a fatiguing and tedious voyage fells the charm of an agreeable society here more strongly.  Our fear to meet impassable (p. 132) roads was the only cause which prompted us to leave the place where we have been received so well; on leaving, we turned our eyes toward it several times and rewarded with sincere regret the hospitality showed to us.
           
October 21st.  The day was beautiful and sometimes the heat became nearly unbearable.  Traveling is disagreeable here; the road and bridges are in a bad condition and we moved slowly in mud; we had to ford several creeks.  The aspect of the country gave us ample time to meditate over the tediousness of our journey.  I was happy when the day was over; we spent the night near Kinderhook, 25 miles from Albany, in the inn of a Captain.
           
October 22nd.  My mattress was very useful to me last night; the innkeeper, though a Captain, had no beds for us and demanded such a price as if we had slept on feather beds instead of on the floor.  We left him wishing that he might get a quicker promotion in the army and be more moderate in his prices.
           
The roads were again bad and tedious this morning; we passed through a forest of fir-trees where we found several hunters lying in wait for squirrels.  The Americans are wonderful marksmen and seldom miss their mark.  Their column aimed always at the British officers during the war and several persons assured me that Great Britain lost more officers in America during the last war than America had lost in all parts of the world at any time.
           
After making twenty miles through the woods, mostly on foot, we saw Albany from the top of a hill and soon found ourselves there, safe and sound.
           
We lived beyond the city with Mr. [Alexander] Hamilton, brother-in-law to Gen. Schuyler.  His beautiful house stands on a hill overlooking a large portion of the country.  We intend to stay here two days to get the needed information about our voyage.  I hope that my diary will be more interesting henceforth; we are penetrating a country less known though famous because of important events.  
           
October 24th.  We came this morning to the city to dine with Col. Lewis, brother-in-law to Chancellor Livingston, and at the same time to visit the city.  Col. Hamilton accompanied us on this excursion, and we had the pleasure of being entertained by his conversation; he is a young man of twenty seven years and certainly one of the most distinguished citizens of America.
            
Albany has absolutely nothing deserving attention; only the large hospital built by the British during the war in Canada, may be interesting to the traveler; but the situation of the city is very beautiful and the river which serves to embellish it contributes also to facilitate trade with New York.        

October 25th.  We left Albany at noon, having only two small bundles as our whole baggage and a little sugar, tea and a few lemons as our whole stock of provisions.  At first we followed the bank of the Hudson to a place called Schuyler-Farms where we turned to the left to see the great Cohoes Falls on the Mohawk.  We had scarcely made three miles when we heard distinctly the roar of the falls.  "What is this noise" -- asked Mr. Vernon.  "That is the echo of the falls," I answered, and we forced our way ahead through the forest; with each step of our horses the noise increased until it became so great that we could not hear each other speak.  From time to time we saw through the trees the river sweeping vehemently away the foam collected at the banks.  The weather was fine and agreeable, but the spray caused by the violent commotion of the water falling from a considerable height warned us that we are near the place; the view of the falls was still obstructed by the wood, but the terrific noise itself made an impression on us.  The impatience of our curiosity, the strong feeling of loneliness which surrounded us -- all this produced a chaos in my soul which I like to experience.  At this point we left our horses and penetrated on foot into the wood, but it was impossible to describe my feelings when from the height of a hill I saw the gigantic cascade of water falling into the abyss; the river is 329 yards wide in this place and the height of the falls is 75 feet.
           
The river gains in swiftness before the falls because of the declivity of the ground.  The rocks at the brink of the falls form (p. 134) a series of dams which by checking to flow seem to add to the impetuosity and determination of the water to plunge headlong into the steaming surge.  Add to this an astonishing charm of a rainbow which unites the most vivid colors to the dusk of a dark, dense fog, the terrible roar caused by the falling of a large mass of water from a great height and the curious effect of boiling water at the foot of the falls -- and you will have a faint idea of the picture.
           
​We would have remained there perhaps till sunset in ecstasy over this most beautiful view entrancing us, were it not for our men who pressed by hunger and evidently not so sensible to beauty of this kind, reminded us that we had yet to make more than twelve miles before dinner, and that we are already very late.  We returned to our horses two miles below, crossed the Mohawk, and rode along a highway to Saratoga.  We dined in a place called the Half-Moon where the junction of the Mohawk and the Hudson forms something like a half-moon.  I will not tell you of the bad roads we encountered.  The night overtook us as we were leaving the Half-Moon, and we forded several large creeks in darkness and without a leader, running a chance of drowning; at last a redeeming light showed us our inn.  Our horses exerted their remaining strength at the sight of this good star and soon brought us to a house more comfortable than we could expect.  A Captain of the militia was the owner of this inn.  His family consisted of his wife, about thirty years of age, and of a beautiful daughter of fifteen or sixteen.  A baby eight months old rested peacefully in the middle of a room where the whole family slept.

Scow Sloop LITTLE MARTHA
 
African Americans played a vital role both before and after slavery as skilled captains and boatmen on the Hudson River. Built circa 1870 to carry lumber, Little Martha was captained by African American Clint Williams and his two brothers. They were described by sloop historians Collyer and Verplank as “capital boatmen.”  The sloop was owned by William Bull Millard of the Millard Lumber Co. and operated principally between Chelsea, Dutchess Junction, Marlboro, Milton, Barnegat and Poughkeepsie. She was named for the builder’s daughter, Martha Hyer Millard.
 
Scow sloops and schooners were more easily and inexpensively built than their fully-molded counterparts. The shallow draft boats were surprisingly good sailers and appeared on the Hudson River, Lake Champlain, the Great Lakes and San Francisco Bay where they remained in use well into the 20th century.

Earlier this month we profiled the Mayflower II for Sail Freighter Friday. So we thought we'd share a few British Pathe newsreels of this momentous occasion. We'll start with this short newsreel of her under sail, arriving in New York in 1957:

Built between 1955 and 1957 in England the Mayflower II sailed across the Atlantic in 1957 and was welcomed to New York Harbor in June of that year. British Pathe also did this slightly longer account of her arrival:

Of particular note is the U.S. Navy blimp flying overhead and the harbor fireboats blasting their hoses and turrets to welcome Mayflower II to New York. 

To learn more about the Mayflower II's voyage across the ocean in 1957, check out this short documentary film, which features captain Alan Villiers, who shepherded the square-rigged ship across the Atlantic. 

In 2020, a young sailor who was aboard the Mayflower II on her transatlantic journey recounted his experience for the Associated Press. He took a color film camera along and shared some of his footage below.

To visit the Mayflower II in person (and to learn more accurate history about the original Pilgrims), visit plimoth.org. ​

​​​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!​

In 1964, New York hosted the World's Fair. The theme was "Peace Though Understanding."  As part of the festivities, an unusual sight was to be seen in New York Harbor that summer - a sight likely not seen for at least a few decades (although probably less time than most spectators would expect) - a gathering of large square-rigged vessels from all over the world. 

Operation Sail - also known as OpSail - was founded as a non-profit in 1961 and coordinates international sailing events centered around promoting goodwill and cooperation between nations as well as celebrating maritime history and sail training efforts around the world. The 1964 World's Fair was OpSail's inaugural event. On July 14, 1964, a parade of some of the world's last windjammers took place through New York Harbor. British Pathe covered the event: 

"Gathering of Great Ships" by Anthony Anable, Jr. 
The Jan-June, 1964 issue of Boating magazine included the following article describing the origins and plans for the 1964 OpSail:

On July 14th, if the wind is fair, New York Harbor will be treated to a sight not seen in over half a century; a fleet of square-rigged ships slipping in under thousands of square feet of sail. As they pick up their moorings in the river, they will be completing a history-making voyage that for most of them began in Lisbon six weeks ago. "Operation Sail" will be the largest rendezvous of square-riggers - now mostly maritime training vessels - assembled in any port in modern times.

As of this writing, 13 countries will send some 25 sailing craft to participate in "Operation Sail," and by the time July 14th - the rendezvous date - rolls around it is hoped that the latter figure will be doubled. While the fleet will consist of all manner of ships, boats and yachts, the most spectacular sight will be ten, or more, full-rigged ships, barks, brigantines and topsail schooners towering above their smaller sisters as they move up the river.

Nations sending vessels are, in alphabetical order: Argentina, the full-rigged ship Libertad and the yacht Fortuna; Canada, the privately-owned brigantine St. Lawrence II; Chile, the four-masted schooner Esmerelda; Republic of China (no training ship, but a contingent of midshipmen and a 70-foot junk from San Francisco); Denmark, the bark Danmark; Dominican Republic, the bark Patria; Germany, the bark Gorch Fock; Great Britain, (two yachts, as yet unspecified); and Italy, the yawl Corsaro II. Also Japan, a motor training ship; Norway, either one or all of the Christian Radich, the Sorlandet and the Staatsraad Lemkuhl, all full-rigged ships; Panama, the three-masted schooner Wandia; Portugal, the full-rigged ship Sagres; and Spain, the four-masted schooner Juan Sebastian de Elcano.

Undecided as of this writing are Sweden's Albatross; Poland's three-masted schooner Iskra; Romania's bark Mircea; and Nova Scotia's Bluenose II, a replica of the original fisherman owned by Col. Victor deB. Oland. 

The United States will be represented by the bark Eagle from the Coast Guard Academy, which will be the host ship; the Icefire and Mariner from the Merchant Marine Academy; Freedom and Royono from the Naval Academy; the brigantine Tabor Boy from Tabor Academy, Marion, Mass.; and the bark Joseph Conrad and the schooners L. A. Dunston and Brilliant from Mystic Seaport, Mystic, Conn.

Operation Sail grew from one man's dream
Nils Hansell, an ardent yachtsman and Art Director of the IBM Journal of Research and Development, was among an admiring crowd gazing at the Coast Guard's stately bark Eagle lying along a New York City dock in the early spring of 1960. He wondered to himself what it would be like if most, if not all, of the square-riggers in the world were to convene in New York Harbor and then participate in the ceremonies to be held in the city and at the grounds of the World's Fair.

Contronted with Nils' idea, the Coast Guard and the State Department were among the first to endorse the proposal. An "Operation Sail" committee was formed and included Hansell, Frank O. Braynard, Director of Information for Moran Towing and Transportation Co., and Commodore John S. Baylis, former Superintendent of the New York State Maritime College and a retired Coast Guard officer. General Chairman of "Operation Sail" is John J. Bergen, Rear Admiral USNR (Ret.); Chairman of the Executive Committee is the well-known yachtsman Walter S. Gubelmann.

Further endorsement came from many sources including New York Governor Nelson A. Rockefeller, who sent out invitations to more than 20 countries requesting participation; New York Senator Jacob K. Javits; New York City Mayor Robert F. Wagner; General Dwight D. Eisenhower; Capt. Alan Villiers, skipper of Mayflower II; Edouard A. Stackpole, Curator of Mystic Seaport; and Prince Philip of England. Also endorsing "Operation Sail" are the federally-sponsored People-to-People Program; the Sail Training Association of London; and most recently, the late President John F. Kennedy. 

Impressive as are these, and other endorsements, the success of "Operation Sail" will be due to the efforts of Braynard, Baylis and Hansell, all of whom have given freely of their time and money to arrange the whole program.

A trans-Atlantic race will begin many events
The program will begin on June 5th with a race from Lisbon, Portugal to Bermuda. Sponsored by the Sail Training Association, there will be four classes of vessels competing; Class Ia for square-rigged vessels of 500 tons and over; Class Ib for square-rigged vessels between 50-499 tons; Class II for fore-and-aft rigged vessels of 50 tons and over; and Class III for fore-and-aft rigged vessels under 50 tons and over 30 feet on the waterline.

Those ships participating in the race will convene with others at Bermuda and will embark in company for New York City, where they are expected to arrive on July 12th. They will lie at anchor off Graves End for two days, until the fleet is complete, and on July 14th will set sail and head out to sea for about 10 miles for the benefit of press photographers and the huge spectator fleet which is expected to cluster about the windjammers. The flotilla will then come about, make for the Narrows, and will enter New York Harbor and the Hudson River. Whether they will be able to sail up the river is anybody's guess at the moment, but if a fair wind fails to materialize the ships will power, or be towed, along the parade route.

Upon making fast to moorings assigned to them, all hands will take up review positions on deck and the yardarms as the Reviewing Vessel proceeds along the formation. Although not yet assigned, either the Navy's Enterprise, the country's newest carrier, or Mystic Seaport's Joseph Conrad, the maritime museum's famed square-rigger, may be the Reviewing Vessel. Whichever wins the honor, she will have an impressive company of dignitaries striding her decks, including the President of the United States, the Governor of the State of New York, the Mayor of New York City, several Ambassadors, distinguished guests, and reviewing officers. 

The second day of the planned ceremonies will see the crews of the various ships assembling at the Battery with escort contingents from the U.S. Coast Guard Academy, the U. S. Merchant Marine Academy and/or the New York State Maritime College. Thus formed, the cadets and their escorts will proceed under a ticker-tape parade to New York's City Hall for the Mayor's Reception.

Following the formalities, numerous events are planned throughout the week for officers and crew alike. A full-dress inspection of the ships is planned; a symposium for the officers and contests of seamanship for the crews will be held; and it is expected that television networks will program various national groups singing sea chanties. Receptions at the Merchant Marine Academy and various consulates are planned, as are such divertissements as longboat racing near the World's Fair Marina, soccer games between ships's [sic] crews, and sightseeing trips to Washington, D.C., the Coast Guard Academy in New London, Conn., and Mystic Seaport.

The program will come to a close at the World's Fair grounds, where plaques, prizes and certificates will be presented. That evening an Operation Sail Grand Ball will be held at Madison Square Garden with the Naval Attaches as Honorary Patrons. The following day the cadets will set sail and the ships will disperse for their various home ports. 

The project is a tribute to training under sail
In this modern age of nuclear power and Polaris missiles, it may seem odd that so many nations train their naval and merchant marine cadets under sail. However, such training has many advantages, not the least of which is learning a respect for the sea - which makes equal demands of a huge carrier or a brigantine. There is no better way to gain an intimate knowledge of these natural forces than to serve in sail.

As Nils Hansell - whose feeling for the sea resulted in the project - put it:

"Operation Sail in New York excites the imagination of so many of us. Sailing ships of all kinds, large and small and fore-and-aft and square-rigged, will crowd the harbor for a sight that few shall have seen before, and one that may never come again.

"But for all the excitement of the many masts and sails, the show will be meaningful, for these are sail training ships manned by seamen trainees. Their work aboard is not easy. Discipline is firm. They will have sailed from distant shores, on foul winds probably as much as fair or, sometimes, no winds at all.

"Theirs should prove an exciting demonstration of training under sail as a way for character building of young men in today's world."

This, then, is "Operation Sail." Not only a demonstration of training under sail, but a reaffirmation of the fact that great sailing ships still span the seven seas.

The following tall ships ultimately participated in the 1964 Operation Sail:

• Argentina, Libertad
• Canada, Bluenose II
• Canada, St. Lawrence II
• Chile, Esmeralda
• Denmark, Danmark
• Dominican Republic, Patria
• Germany, Gorch Fock
• Germany, Peter von Danzig
• Great Britain, Merlin
• Great Britain, Tawau
• Indonesia, Dewarutji
• Italy, Corsaro II
• Norway, Christian Radich
• Norway, Sørlandet
• Norway, Statsraad Lehmkuhl
• Panama, Wandia
• Poland, Iskra
• Portugal, Sagres
• Romania, Mircea
• Spain, Juan Sebastián de Elcano
• Sweden, Albatross
• United States, Eagle

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This one's for the film buffs AND the sailing buffs! Today's Media Monday post features the 1958 film Windjammer: The Voyage of the Christian Radich. Filmed aboard the Norwegian three-masted bark Christian Radich, "Windjammer" was filmed in the groundbreaking (and short-lived) Cinemiracle wide screen process. Long before IMAX, Cinemiracle was a strikingly immersive film experience for 1958, and Windjammer was the only feature-length film ever produced by this process.

Based on a book written by Allan J. Villiers, the film follows a crew of young Norwegian men on a sail training mission aboard the Christian Radich. The film covers a journey of 17,500 nautical miles from Norway to Madiera, the Dutch West Indies, Puerto Rico, Trinidad, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston before heading back to Oslo across the North Atlantic and around Scotland. Although the young crew of the vessel (some as young as 14) are numerous, the storyline focuses on only a few, including one boy training to be a concert pianist. The entire film runs about 2 hours and 30 minutes (including prologue and intermission). 

It premiered at Grauman's Chinese Theater in Hollywood April 8, 1958, and on April 9, 1958 premiered at the Roxy Theater in New York City on a curved, 40 foot high by 100 foot long screen. It needed three film projectors to synchronize the wind screen format. The screen size and curve (nearly identical to Cinerama) made the viewer feel as if they were immersed in the film. And as you'll see below, the film started out in standard format, the screen flanked by theater curtains, which were then drawn back to expose the enormous wide screen. 

The film was later converted to Cinerama, which required only one projector, not three. It went on to be nominated for several awards, and was so popular in Norway that in 1959 it was seen in Oslo more times than there were people in city. You can watch the restored trailer below.

No Cinemiracle or Cinerama theaters survive today, but the Christian Radich does. Built in 1937 specifically as a sail training vessel for Norway, she remained at that post until the 1990s. Today, she is operated as a private vessel that offers sightseeing tours of coastal Norway and sail training for young people - as she originally intended. 

​Windjammer is available for streaming purchase on Amazon Prime. If you want to learn more about Windjammer, including the technical process, screenings, interviews with cast and crew, etc., visit here. 

And if you're curious about historic sailing vessels, be sure to check out our upcoming 2022 exhibit, "A New Age of Sail: The History and Future of Sail Freight on the Hudson River," Opening May 1, 2022!

​​​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!​

Newburgh was the shipbuilding center of the mid-Hudson for well over a century and a half. Although the earliest accomplishments of local shipwrights are clouded by the passage of time, sailing vessels were constructed during the colonial days by such men as George Gardner, Jason Rogers, Richard Hill and William Seymour along the village’s waterfront, which extended approximately from the foot of present day Washington Street north to South Street.
 
Strategically well placed at the southernmost point before one entered the Hudson Highlands, Newburgh became the river transportation center, serving the inland towns and villages to the north and west. The Highlands form a magnificent scenic delight in the mid-Hudson region, but in the pre-railroad era they were decidedly unfriendly to the movement of goods and people. In short, the Hudson became a marine highway which connected upstate regions to the Metropolis at its mouth. A significant freighting business therefore developed at Newburgh, and, in addition, the village became one of the region’s bases for the whaling industry. Both of these undertakings required sailing vessels, and with forests of suitable timber nearby, the local shipbuilders were well placed to support the burgeoning commerce on the river.

​Much of this changed with the introduction of the steamboat in the summer of 1807, when Robert Fulton’s North River Steamboat made her first trip to Albany. It was inevitable that steam should be adopted almost universally on America’s waterways. The earliest steamboat built at Newburgh is reputed to have been the side-wheel ferry Gold Hunter, constructed in 1836 for the ferry between Newburgh and Fishkill Landing. We are not certain of the identity of her builder, but her appearance coincided with the start of local shipbuilding by the dynasty which dominated that industry for 110 years - Thomas S. Marvel; his son of the same name; and his grandson, Harry A. Marvel.
 
The shipbuilding activities of these three generations of the Marvel family encompassed the period from 1836 until 1946, when Harry Marvel retired from business. Although their activity was not continuous throughout this period, the reputations of these men as master shipbuilders survived the periodic and all too frequent ups and downs that have always plagued this industry.
 
The senior Thomas Marvel, born in Newport, Rhode Island in 1808, served his apprenticeship as a shipwright with Isaac Webb, a well-known shipbuilder in New York. Around 1836, he moved to Newburgh and commenced building small wooden sailing vessels, sloops, schooners and the occasional brig or half-brig, near the foot of Little Ann Street, later moving to the foot of Kemp Street (no longer in existence). Among the vessels he built was a Hudson River sloop launched in the spring of 1847 for Hiram Travis, of Peekskill. Travis elected to name his vessel Thomas S. Marvel, a name she carried at least until she was converted to a barge in 1890.
 
An unidentified 160-foot steamboat was built at the Marvel yard in 1853. She was described by the local press as a “new and splendid propeller built for parties in New York.” Possibly the first steamboat built by Thomas Marvel, this vessel was important for another reason- she was propelled by a double-cylinder oscillating engine built on the Wolff, or high-and-low pressure principle. Ernest Wolff had patented his design in 1834, utilizing the multiple expansion of steam to improve the efficiency of the engine. The Wolff engine was a rudimentary forerunner of the compound engine, which did not appear for another two decades.
 
The younger Thomas joined his father in 1847, at the age of 13. The young man, who was born in 1834 at New York, was entrusted with building a steamboat hull in 1854. This was a classic case of on-the-job training, for the boat was entirely young Tom’s responsibility. She is believed to have been Mohawk Chief, for service on the eastern end of the Erie Canal. The 85-3/95 ton Mohawk Chief, 86 feet in length, was described in her first enrollment document as a “square-sterner steam propeller, round tuck, no galleries and no figurehead.” The dry, archaic language of vessel documentation was hardly accurate, for her builder’s half model, still in existence, proves that she was a handsomely crafted little ship with a graceful bow and fine lines aft.
 
The elder Thomas Marvel retired from shipbuilding at Newburgh sometime around 1860. He later built some additional vessels elsewhere, including the schooner Amos Briggs at Cornwall. He may have commanded sailing vessels on the river in his later years, for he was referred to from time to time as “Captain Marvel.”
 
By the mid-1850s, the younger Thomas Marvel had become a thoroughly professional shipwright, and undertook the management of the yard’s operation, at first as the sole owner and later in partnership with George F. Riley, a local shipwright. The partnership continued until Marvel volunteered for service in the Union Army almost immediately after the start of the Civil War in April 1861. He served as Captain of Company A of the 56th Regiment until he was mustered out due to illness in August 1862.
 
He returned to Newburgh, but shortly afterwards moved to Port Richmond, Staten Island, where he built sailing vessels and at least one steamboat. A two-year period in the late 1860s saw him constructing sailing craft on the Choptank River at Denton, Maryland, after which he returned to Port Richmond.
 
During the Civil War and for a few years afterwards, George Riley continued a modest shipbuilding business at Newburgh, later with Adam Bulman as a partner. They went their separate ways in the late 1860s, and Bulman teamed with Joel M. Brown in 1871, doing business as Bulman & Brown. For the next eight years, they built ships in a yard south of the foot of Washington Street, where they turned out tugs, schooners and barges. Their output of tugs consisted of James Bigler, Manhattan, A.C. Cheney and George Garlick, and their most prominent sailing vessels were the schooners Peter C. Schultz (332 tons) and Henry P. Havens (300 tons), both launched in 1874.
 
Another source of business was the brick-making industry, which required deck barges to move its products to the New York market. Nearly all of 19th century New York City was built of Hudson River brick, and the brick yards on both shores of Newburgh Bay contributed to this enormous undertaking. In 1872 alone, Bulman & Brown built at least five brick barges for various local manufacturers.
 
Vessel repair went hand in hand with construction. Bulman & Brown built and operated what might have been the first floating dry dock at Newburgh. In 1879, the firm moved to Jersey City, New Jersey, and Newburgh lost a valuable asset. This prompted Homer Ramsdell, the local entrepreneurial steamboat owner, to finance construction of a marine railway located at the foot of South William Street. Ramsdell, whose interests included the ferry to Fishkill Landing and the Newburgh and New York Railroad, as well as his line of steamboats to New York, wanted to be sure that his fleet could be hauled out and repaired locally without the need for a trip to a New York repair yard.
 
The mid-1870s, which marked the end of the wooden ship era at Newburgh and the start of the age of iron and steel, brings us to the close of this portion of the sketch of the area’s shipbuilding. From this time onward, the local scene would change radically. The firm of Ward, Stanton & Company, successors to Stanton & Mallery, a local manufacturer of machinery for sugar mills and other shoreside activities, entered shipbuilding and persuaded Thomas S. Marvel to join the company in 1877 to manage its shipyard. Newburgh, which had been incorporated as a city in 1865, was about to enter the major leagues in ship construction.

Editor's Note: This article was originally written by William duBarry Thomas and  published in the 2000 Pilot Log. Thank you to Hudson River Maritime Museum volunteer Adam Kaplan for transcribing the article.

Northwest Passage is the title track of a 1981 album by Stan Rogers. "Northwest Passage" compares the singer's own travels across the prairie provinces to the exploratory adventures of Sir John Franklin, Alexander Mackenzie, David Thompson, and Henry Kelsey.

Stanley Allison Rogers (November 29, 1949 – June 2, 1983) was a Canadian folk musician and songwriter. Rogers was noted for his rich, baritone voice and his traditional-sounding songs which were frequently inspired by Canadian history and the daily lives of working people, especially those from the fishing villages of the Maritime provinces and, later, the farms of the Canadian prairies and Great Lakes.[1] Rogers died in a fire aboard Air Canada Flight 797 on the ground at the Greater Cincinnati Airport at the age of 33.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stan_Rogers
This performance  by The Longest Johns & El Pony Pisador is presented by  Caraway Studios.  El Pony Pisador are an incredible group of musicians from Barcelona. They play a fantastic combination of Sea Shanties and Irish music in a unique and spellbinding style. https://www.facebook.com/elponypisado... The Longest Johns are a fantastic group of folk singers from Bristol. Rooting their elaborate harmonies in strong bass tones with elegant highs, their sound is truly captivating and original. https://www.thelongestjohns.com

The Northwest Passage - Lyrics

Westward from the Davis Strait
'Tis there 'twas said to lie
The sea route to the Orient
For which so many died
Seeking gold and glory,
Leaving weathered, broken bones
And a long-forgotten lonely cairn of stones

Ah, for just one time
I would take the Northwest Passage
To find the hand of Franklin
Reaching for the Beaufort Sea
Tracing one warm line
Through a land so wide and savage
And make a Northwest Passage to the sea

Three centuries thereafter
I take passage overland
In the footsteps of brave Kelsey
Where his "sea of flowers" began
Watching cities rise before me
Then behind me sink again
This tardiest explorer
Driving hard across the plain

Ah, for just one time
I would take the Northwest Passage
To find the hand of Franklin
Reaching for the Beaufort Sea
Tracing one warm line
Through a land so wide and savage
And make a Northwest Passage to the sea

And through the night, behind the wheel
The mileage clicking west
I think upon Mackenzie,
David Thompson and the rest
Who cracked the mountain ramparts
And did show a path for me
To race the roaring Fraser to the sea

Ah, for just one time
I would take the Northwest Passage
To find the hand of Franklin
Reaching for the Beaufort Sea
Tracing one warm line
Through a land so wide and savage
And make a Northwest Passage to the sea

How then am I so different
From the first men through this way?
Like them, I left a settled life
I threw it all away
To seek a Northwest Passage
At the call of many men
To find there but the road back home again

Ah, for just one time
I would take the Northwest Passage
To find the hand of Franklin
Reaching for the Beaufort Sea
Tracing one warm line
Through a land so wide and savage
And make a Northwest Passage to the sea.
​

T'was the night before Halloween! And while many a passenger is aboard Solaris for this weekend's Lantern Cruises, we thought it apt to share a tale from Washington Irving. First published in 1822 as part of the two volume Bracebridge Hall, the tale of the Storm Ship is an unassuming one, but has spawned a lot of lore about the ghostly ship that plies the Hudson against wind and tide. The story entitled "Storm Ship" is quite a bit longer than this excerpt, and is preceded by one entitled "Dolph Heylinger." But the remainder of "The Storm Ship" is not actually about the ship at all, but rather Dolph's exploits and redemption. You can read the entire Storm Ship story here. Although Irving is best known for his masterful Sleepy Hollow, this shorter story is nonetheless a fascinating look at early Dutch colonial life - fictionalized through a 19th century lens - in what was once New Netherland.

Note: The following text is taken verbatim from the original Washington Irving publication and has the original spelling.

​In the golden age of the province of the New-Netherlands, when it was under the sway of Wouter Van Twiller, otherwise called the Doubter, the people of the Manhattoes were alarmed, one sultry afternoon, just about the time of the summer solstice, by a tremendous storm of thunder and lightning. The rain descended in such torrents, as absolutely to spatter up and smoke along the ground. It seemed as if the thunder rattled and rolled over the very roofs of the houses; the lightning was seen to play about the church of St. Nicholas, and to strive three times, in vain, to strike its weather-cock. Garret Van Horne’s new chimney was split almost from top to bottom; and Doffue Mildeberger was struck speechless from his bald-faced mare, just as he was riding into town. In a word, it was one of those unparalleled storms, that only happen once within the memory of that venerable personage, known in all towns by the appellation of “the oldest inhabitant.”
​
Great was the terror of the good old women of the Manhattoes. They gathered their children together, and took refuge in the cellars; after having hung a shoe on the iron point of every bed-post, lest it should attract the lightning. At length the storm abated: the thunder sunk into a growl; and the setting sun, breaking from under the fringed borders of the clouds, made the broad bosom of the bay to gleam like a sea of molten gold.

The word was given from the fort, that a ship was standing up the bay. It passed from mouth to mouth, and street to street, and soon put the little capital in a bustle. The arrival of a ship, in those early times of the settlement, was an event of vast importance to the inhabitants. It brought them news from the old world, from the land of their birth, from which they were so completely severed: to the yearly ship, too, they looked for their supply of luxuries, of finery, of comforts, and almost of necessaries. The good vrouw could not have her new cap, nor new gown, until the arrival of the ship; the artist waited for it for his tools, the burgomaster for his pipe and his supply of Hollands, the school-boy for his top and marbles, and the lordly landholder for the bricks with which he was to build his new mansion. Thus every one, rich and poor, great and small, looked out for the arrival of the ship. It was the great yearly event of the town of New-Amsterdam; and from one end of the year to the other, the ship—the ship—the ship—was the continual topic of conversation.

The news from the fort, therefore, brought all the populace down to the battery, to behold the wished-for sight. It was not exactly the time when she had been expected to arrive, and the circumstance was a matter of some speculation. Many were the groups collected about the battery. Here and there might be seen a burgomaster, of slow and pompous gravity, giving his opinion with great confidence to a crowd of old women and idle boys. At another place was a knot of old weatherbeaten fellows, who had been seamen or fishermen in their times, and were great authorities on such occasions; these gave different opinions, and caused great disputes among their several adherents: but the man most looked up to, and followed and watched by the crowd, was Hans Van Pelt, an old Dutch sea-captain retired from service, the nautical oracle of the place. He reconnoitred the ship through an ancient telescope, covered with tarry canvas, hummed a Dutch tune to himself, and said nothing. A hum, however, from Hans Van Pelt had always more weight with the public than a speech from another man.

In the meantime, the ship became more distinct to the naked eye: she was a stout, round Dutch-built vessel, with high bow and poop, and bearing Dutch colours. The evening sun gilded her bellying canvas, as she came riding over the long waving billows. The sentinel who had given notice of her approach, declared, that he first got sight of her when she was in the centre of the bay; and that she broke suddenly on his sight, just as if she had come out of the bosom of the black thunder-cloud. The bystanders looked at Hans Van Pelt, to see what he would say to this report: Hans Van Pelt screwed his mouth closer together, and said nothing; upon which some shook their heads, and others shrugged their shoulders.

The ship was now repeatedly hailed, but made no reply, and, passing by the fort, stood on up the Hudson. A gun was brought to bear on her, and, with some difficulty, loaded and fired by Hans Van Pelt, the garrison not being expert in artillery. The shot seemed absolutely to pass through the ship, and to skip along the water on the other side, but no notice was taken of it! What was strange, she had all her sails set, and sailed right against wind and tide, which were both down the river. Upon this Hans Van Pelt, who was likewise harbour-master, ordered his boat, and set off to board her; but after rowing two or three hours, he returned without success. Sometimes he would get within one or two hundred yards of her, and then, in a twinkling, she would be half a mile off. Some said it was because his oarsmen, who were rather pursy and short-winded, stopped every now and then to take breath, and spit on their hands; but this, it is probable, was a mere scandal. He got near enough, however, to see the crew; who were all dressed in the Dutch style, the officers in doublets and high hats and feathers: not a word was spoken by any one on board; they stood as motionless as so many statues, and the ship seemed as if left to her own government. Thus she kept on away up the river, lessening and lessening in the evening sunshine, until she faded from sight, like a little white cloud melting away in the summer sky.

The appearance of this ship threw the governor into one of the deepest doubts that ever beset him in the whole course of his administration. Fears were entertained for the security of the infant settlements on the river, lest this might be an enemy’s ship in disguise, sent to take possession. The governor called together his council repeatedly to assist him with their conjectures. He sat in his chair of state, built of timber from the sacred forest of the Hague, and smoking his long jasmine pipe, and listened to all that his counsellors had to say on a subject about which they knew nothing; but, in spite of all the conjecturing of the sagest and oldest heads, the governor still continued to doubt.

Messengers were despatched to different places on the river; but they returned without any tidings—the ship had made no port. Day after day, and week after week, elapsed; but she never returned down the Hudson. As, however, the council seemed solicitous for intelligence, they had it in abundance. The captains of the sloops seldom arrived without bringing some report of having seen the strange ship at different parts of the river; sometimes near the Palisadoes; sometimes off Croton Point, and sometimes in the highlands; but she never was reported as having been seen above the highlands. The crews of the sloops, it is true, generally differed among themselves in their accounts of these apparitions; but they may have arisen from the uncertain situations in which they saw her. Sometimes it was by the flashes of the thunder-storm lighting up a pitchy night, and giving glimpses of her careering across Tappaan Zee, or the wide waste of Haverstraw Bay. At one moment she would appear close upon them, as if likely to run them down, and would throw them into great bustle and alarm; but the next flash would show her far off, always sailing against the wind. Sometimes, in quiet moonlight nights, she would be seen under some high bluff of the highlands, all in deep shadow, excepting her top-sails glittering in the moonbeams; by the time, however, that the voyagers would reach the place, there would be no ship to be seen; and when they had passed on for some distance, and looked back, behold! there she was again with her top-sails in the moonshine! Her appearance was always just after, or just before, or just in the midst of, unruly weather; and she was known by all the skippers and voyagers of the Hudson, by the name of “the storm-ship.”

These reports perplexed, the governor and his council more than ever; and it would be endless to repeat the conjectures and opinions that were uttered on the subject. Some quoted cases in point, of ships seen off the coast of New-England, navigated by witches and goblins. Old Hans Van Pelt, who had been more than once to the Dutch colony at the Cape of Good Hope, insisted that this must be the Flying Dutchman which had so long haunted Table Bay, but, being unable to make port, had now sought another harbour. Others suggested, that, if it really was a supernatural apparition, as there was every natural reason to believe, it might be Hendrick Hudson, and his crew of the Half-Moon; who, it was well-known, had once run aground in the upper part of the river, in seeking a north-west passage to China. This opinion had very little weight with the governor, but it passed current out of doors; for indeed it had already been reported, that Hendrick Hudson and his crew haunted the Kaatskill Mountain; and it appeared very reasonable to suppose, that his ship might infest the river, where the enterprise was baffled, or that it might bear the shadowy crew to their periodical revels in the mountain.

Other events occurred to occupy the thoughts and doubts of the sage Wouter and his council, and the storm-ship ceased to be a subject of deliberation at the board. It continued, however, to be a matter of popular belief and marvellous anecdote through the whole time of the Dutch government, and particularly just before the capture of New-Amsterdam, and the subjugation of the province by the English squadron. About that time the storm-ship was repeatedly seen in the Tappaan Zee, and about Weehawk, and even down as far as Hoboken; and her appearance was supposed to be ominous of the approaching squall in public affairs, and the downfall of Dutch domination.

Since that time, we have no authentic accounts of her; though it is said she still haunts the highlands and cruises about Point-no-point. People who live along the river, insist that they sometimes see her in summer moonlight; and that in a deep still midnight, they have heard the chant of her crew, as if heaving the lead; but sights and sounds are so deceptive along the mountainous shores, and about the wide bays and long reaches of this great river, that I confess I have very strong doubts upon the subject.

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