miles and a half an hour. The prospects that were presented to his view, in passing up this magnificent stream, were peculiarly grand and beautiful. In some places the river expands to the breadth of five or six miles, in others it narrows to that of a few hundred yards; and, in various parts, it is interspersed with islands. From several points of view its course can be traced to a great distance up the Hudson, whilst in others it is suddenly lost to the sight, as it winds between its lofty banks. Here mountains, covered with rocks and trees, rise almost perpendicularly out of the water; there a fine champaign country presents itself, cultivated to the very margin of the river, whilst neat farm-houses and distant towns embellish the charming landscapes.

After sunset a brisk wind sprang up, which carried the vessel at the rate of six or seven miles an hour for a considerable part of the night; but for some hours it was requisite for her to lie at anchor, in a place where the navigation of the river was intricate.

Early the next morning the voyagers found themselves opposite to West Point, a place rendered remarkable in the history of the American war, by the desertion of General Arnold, and the consequent death of the unfortunate Major André. The fort stands about one hundred and fifty feet above the level of the water, and on the side of a barren hill. It had, at this time, a most melancholy aspect. Near West Point the Highlands, as they are called, commence, and extend along the river, on each side, for several miles.

About four o'clock in the morning of the 4th of July, the vessel reached Albany, the place of its destination, one hundred and sixty miles distant from New York. Albany is a city which, at this time, contained about eleven hundred houses; and the number was fast increasing. In the old part of the town, the streets were very narrow, and the houses bad. The latter were all in the old Dutch taste, with the gable ends towards the street, and ornamented at the top with large iron weather-cocks; but in that part of the

town which had been lately erected, the streets were commodious, and many of the houses were handsome. Great pains had been taken to have the streets well paved and lighted. In summer time Albany is a disagreeable place; for it stands in a low situation on the margin of the river, which here runs very slowly, and whichi, towards the evening, often exhales clouds of vapour. [In 1817, Albany is described, by Mr. Hall, to have had a gay and thriving appearance, and nothing Dutch about it, except the names of some of its inhabitants. Being the seat of government for New York, it has a parliament-house, dignified with the name of Capitol. This stands upon an eminence, and has a lofty columnat porch; but, as the building is small, it seems to be all porch. There is a miserable little museum here, which contains a group of waxen figures brought from France, representing the execution of Louis the Sixteenth. Albany is now a place of considerable trade; and, if a canal be completed betwixt this town and Lake Erie, it will become a town of great importance.]

The 4th of July, the day of Mr. Weld's arrival at Albany, was the anniversary of the declaration of American independence. About noon a drum and trumpet gave notice that the rejoicings would immediately commence; and, on walking to a hill, about a quarter of a mile from the town, Mr. Weld saw sixty men drawn up, partly militia, partly volunteers, partly infantry, partly cavalry. The last were clothed in scarlet, and were mounted on horses of various descriptions. About three hundred spectators attended. A few rounds from a three-pounder were fired, and some volleys of smallarms. When the firing ceased, the troops returned to the town, a party of militia officers, in uniform, marching in the rear, under the shade of umbrellas, as the day was excessively hot. Having reached the town, the whole body dispersed. The volunteers and militia officers afterwards dined together, and thus ended the rejoicings of the day.

Mr. Weld remained in Albany for a few days, and

then set off for Skenesborough, upon Lake Champlain, in a carriage hired for the purpose. In about two hours he arrived at the small village of Cohoz, close to which is a remarkable cataract in the Mohawk River. This river takes its rise to the north-east of Lake Oneida, and, after a course of one hundred and forty miles, joins the Hudson about ten miles above Albany. The Cohoz fall is about three miles from the mouth of this river, and at a place where its width is about three hundred yards: a ledge of rocks extends quite across the stream, and from the top of these the water falls about fifty feet perpendicular: the line of the fall, from one side of the river to the other, is nearly straight. The appearance of this cataract varies much, according to the quantity of water when the river is full, the water descends in an unbroken sheet from one bank to the other; but, at other times, the greater part of the rocks is left uncovered.

From this place Mr. Weld proceeded along the banks of the Hudson River, and, late in the evening, reached Saratoga, thirty-five miles from Albany. This place contained about forty houses; but they were so scattered, that it had not the least appearance of a

town.

Near Saratoga, on the borders of a marsh, are several remarkable mineral springs: one of these, in the crater of a rock, of pyramidical form, and about five feet in height, is particularly curious. This rock seems to have been formed by the petrifaction of the water; and all the other springs are surrounded by similar petrifactions.

Of the works thrown up at Saratoga, during the war, by the British and American armies, there were now scarcely any remains. The country around was well cultivated, and most of the trenches had been levelled by the plough. Mr. Weld here crossed the Hudson River, and proceeded, for some distance, along its eastern shore. After this the road was most wretched, particularly over a long causeway, which had been formed originally

C

for the transporting of cannon. This causeway consisted of large trees laid side by side. Some of them being decayed, great intervals were left, in which the wheels of the carriage were sometimes locked so fast, that the horses alone could not possibly extricate them. The woods on each side of the road had a much more

majestic appearance than any that Mr. Weld had seen since he had left Philadelphia. This, however, was owing more to the great height than to the thickness of the trees, for he could not see one that appeared more than thirty inches in diameter. The trees here were chiefly oaks, hiccory, hemlock, and beech; intermixed with which appeared great numbers of smooth-barked, or Weymouth pines. A profusion of wild raspberries were growing in the woods.

After having experienced almost inconceivable difficulty, in consequence of the badness of the road; and having occupied five hours in travelling only twelve miles, Mr. Weld arrived at Skenesborough. This is a little town, which stands near the southern extremity of Lake Champlain. It consisted, at this time, of only twelve houses, and was dreadfully infested with musquitoes, a large kind of gnats, which abound in the swampy parts of all hot countries. Such myriads of these insects attacked Mr. Weld, the first night of his sleeping there, that, when he rose in the morning, his face and hands were covered with large pustules, like those of a person in the small-pox. The situation of Skenesborough, on the margin of a piece of water which is almost stagnant, and which is shaded by thick woods, is peculiarly favourable to the increase of these insects.

Shortly after their arrival in Skenesborough, Mr. Weld, and two gentlemen by whom he was accompanied, hired a boat of about ten tons burden, for the purpose of crossing Lake Champlain. The vessel sailed at one o'clock in the day; but, as the channel was narrow, and the wind adverse, they were only able to proceed about six miles before sun-set. Having brought the vessel

3

to an anchor, the party landed and walked to some adjacent farm-houses, in the hope of obtaining provisions; but they were not able to procure any thing except milk and cheese. The next day they reached Ticonderoga. Here the only dwelling was a tavern, a large house built of stone. On entering it, the party was shown into a spacious apartment, crowded with boatmen and other persons, who had just arrived from St. John's in Canada. The man of the house was a judge; a sullen, demure old gentleman, who sate by the fire, with tattered clothes and dishevelled locks, reading a book, and was totally regardless of every person in the house.

The old fort and barracks of Ticonderoga, are on the top of a rising ground, just behind the tavern: they were at this time in ruins, and it is not likely that they ever will be rebuilt; for the situation is a very insecure one, being commanded by a lofty hill, called Mount Defiance. During the great American war, the British troops obtained possession of this place, by dragging cannon and mortars up the hill, and firing down upon the fort.

Mr. Weld and his friends, on leaving Ticonderoga, pursued their voyage to Crown Point. Here they landed to inspect the old fort. Nothing, however, was to be seen but a heap of ruins; for, shortly before it was surrendered by the British troops, the powder-magazine blew up, and a great part of the works was destroyed; and, since the final evacuation of the place, the people of the neighbourhood have been continually digging in different parts, in the hope of procuring lead and iron shot. At the south side only the ditches remain perfect: they are wide and deep, and are cut through immense rocks of limestone; and, from being overgrown, towards the top, with different kinds of shrubs, they have a grand and picturesque ap

pearance.

While the party were here, they were agreeably surprised with the, sight of a large birch-canoe, upon the