r^«::%v-^ ;^--^^o^\^-:^ 
 
 

LAKE GEORGE ^^5/ 
 
 AND 
 
 ITS SURROUNDINGS 
 
 BOTH OLD AND NEW, 
 IN RHYME. 
 
 Revised and Enlarged by a Second Part, 
 MAKING A Circle op the Lake, touching 
 
 ALL THE principal POINTS OF INTEREST, 
 
 THE HOTELS, BOARDING HOUSES, 
 
 CHURCHES AND COTTAGES IN 
 
 GENERAL, NOTING THE PRIIN- 
 
 CIPAL LAND MARKS OF 
 
 THE OLDEN TIMES, 
 
 GLENS FALLS, N. Y.: - V 3 6 S 
 
 STAK PUBLISHING CO., PfilMERS 
 1 89 1, 
 

 Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1891, by 
 
 Asa W. Brayton, in the oflBce of the Librarian 
 
 of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 
 
LAKE GEORGE 
 
 AND ITS SURROUNDINGS-BOTH OLD AND NEW. 
 
 BY ASA W. BRAYTON. 
 
 One Dr. Guiicles, with many smiles 
 
 Came out in search of rest; 
 He found a spot and bought a lot. 
 
 Then built himself a nest. 
 
 Not far away from Kattskill bay 
 The Doctor made a choice — 
 
 To make his bed and lay his head. 
 While many friends rejoice. 
 
 A pleasant spot not soon forgot 
 
 By gentlemen of taste; 
 When they pass by 'twill take their eye. 
 
 Should they be in a haste. 
 
 The bullheads here, in water clear, 
 
 Are a delicious fish; 
 The bass and trout, without a doubt. 
 
 Will crown the doctor's dish. 
 
'Tis splendid deeds, to troll the weeds, 
 
 And pull the noble fish; 
 And better, too — that's when we do 
 
 Meet them in our own dish. 
 
 The "Swaofo" bass, upon the grass, 
 
 Or on the rock}- shoal, 
 Your line will strand — if in your hand- 
 
 Unless they're on a pole. 
 
 Ma}' joy attend our welcome friend 
 
 While in his new careers, 
 Then on his trail when he may sail 
 
 Or drift to other spheres. 
 
 We welcome more unto our shore 
 
 Who have a noble heart 
 Like Dr. Guilde, to fish awhile 
 
 And then with joy depart. 
 
 Our "silver lake'' your love will take. 
 Fanned by the mountain air; 
 
 The roses, Miss, your cheeks will kiss. 
 If you in time get there. 
 
 Come, old and young, of every tongue, 
 And make Lake George your bride; 
 
 No better spot to cast your lot 
 Than by its rolling tide. 
 
One cliilly day I went a\va\' 
 
 Five miles as j-ou do hear; 
 I had a hound, his name was Crown, 
 
 He drove a noble deer. 
 
 He made his way to Phelps' bay 
 
 With music in his ear; 
 They heard the hound and then ran down 
 
 And saw this noble deer. 
 
 Then in the lake he made his wake, 
 
 It was his last retreat; 
 To run or i\y, to swim or die, 
 
 But here he soon got beat. 
 
 'Twas woman's luck to kill this buck, 
 
 She was Rebecca Phelps. 
 With butcher knife she took his life; 
 
 Burr, eight years, not much help. 
 
 Now, in these days ladies were praised, 
 
 With now and then a hint; 
 If feats were done by anyone. 
 
 The}' soon get in the print. 
 
 The gentle breeze that fans the trees 
 
 Will sail your boat so nice 
 To other shores — then pull the oars 
 
 To lovely "Paradise." 
 
6 
 
 This lovely bay, both night and day, 
 
 Is fronted by an isle; 
 Her bosom smooth the heart will soothe 
 
 And breathe a sailor's smile. 
 
 This eastern stack is * 'Mountain Black," 
 
 And of the forest wild; 
 The fallow deer were always here — 
 
 We caught them when a child. 
 
 Now turn your breast unto the west 
 
 And view the "Kettle Rock," 
 Where ladies red ground corn for bread 
 
 To feed their little flock. 
 
 We pass "Round Rock" for Butler's dock — 
 
 It stands on "Popple Point"; 
 'Tis nice and clean, as all have seen, 
 
 With nothing out of joint. 
 
 One autumn daj', for sport or play. 
 My mate went up the hill. 
 
 And with one hound drove three deer down- 
 Large bucks, which we did kill. 
 
 These mountains great seem desolate 
 
 Unto the stranger's eye: 
 Still there's a vase, by Nature's grace, 
 
 To scent the passer b3'. 
 
The scenery grand, o'er lake and strand, 
 
 Far as the eyes can stray; 
 Then view with awe what Nature's law 
 
 Hath planted here to stay. ' 
 
 The female deer comes often here 
 
 With two fawns by her side 
 In spotted coats — we take some notes. 
 
 Then draw their forms with pride. 
 
 Ladies, attend, — go with a friend 
 
 Upon those mountains high, 
 To breathe a share of God's pure air 
 
 While it is passing by. 
 
 We do intend to soon descend 
 
 Two thousand feet, or more. 
 And leave this vase of Nature's grace 
 
 For Horicon's fair shore. 
 
 We'll start our crew down the "Long Sue," 
 
 And call on "Mother Bunch;" 
 We caught four deer and brought them liere. 
 
 Before we took our lunch. 
 
 One Samuel P. and Henry B. 
 
 Caught this whole number — four. 
 While one nice deer, with timid fear. 
 
 Slipped olf along the s]K)re. 
 
A busy time for bo3^s in prime — 
 
 No time to be a dunce — 
 From "Rouse's Rock" came this whole flock, 
 
 Five in the lake at once. 
 
 We leave our grace here on this place 
 
 And sail to "Hulett's Bay"; 
 Those pioneers were once my dears, — 
 
 Long since they've gone to staj'. 
 
 With Hulett Harv. no one would starve; 
 
 The mother kind and free, 
 And four good boys to crown the joys 
 
 Of every one they see. 
 
 At the south end lived John, my friend 
 
 And ivy in between; 
 Harvey below, three in a row, 
 
 As we have always seen. 
 
 All lived in bays, their latter days, 
 
 Snug as the little mice; 
 In harmony the}' all agree, 
 
 Each home, a paradise. 
 
 Their social hours, 'mid summer tlowers, 
 
 Sweet joy always attends; 
 In quietude on land so rude, 
 
 They lived as bosom friends. 
 
9 
 
 Near "OdeU's Isle" we stopped awhile — 
 
 One week was all the time; 
 Nine deer we caught and home we brought, 
 
 When I was in my prime. 
 
 We'll give our names — one, Ripley, James 
 
 And Henry Harris, two, 
 And Asa B., this writer, three, 
 
 Was all our little crew. 
 
 A trip we'll take across the lake. 
 
 Where the French army lay 
 O'er Sabbath day to preach and pray. 
 
 And then they marched away. 
 
 This land of fame derived its name 
 
 From this same circumstance; 
 They prayed the Lord to them reward 
 
 Wherever the}^ advanced. 
 
 Their wicked deed made good hearts bleed, 
 
 Where lives a burning pjiin; 
 While at the fort, for blood or sport, 
 
 The garrison were slain. 
 
 Three days of strife for dear, sweet life 
 
 At William Henry's fort, 
 Where cannon roar and human gore 
 
 Were naught but savage sport. 
 
10 
 
 Then to their cost saw all was lost, 
 
 And the.y must soon give o'er, 
 No help at all to save the fall 
 
 Of all their little store. 
 
 The bitter cup surrendered up, 
 And stacked their shattered arms; 
 
 Montcalm agreed to give them heed 
 So no one should be harmed. 
 
 Demons from hell, with savage yell. 
 
 And tomahawk in hand, 
 And scalping knife to take the life 
 
 Of all this valiant band. 
 
 But seven stout who gave not out. 
 
 On magic pinions sailed; 
 To Edward's fort they did report, 
 
 And told the bitter tale. 
 
 When twenty years rolled off with f^ars, 
 
 Burgojme came sweei^ing b}'; 
 With Indian bands and treach'rous hands 
 
 Jennie McCrea did die. 
 
 The murmuring spring- witnessed the thing-. 
 
 Just at the break of day; 
 An Indian blow laid Jennie low. 
 
 Then bore her scalp away. 
 
11 
 
 Then tied at last to "Pine" tree fast, 
 
 Tliey buried in her head 
 The tomahawk, so people talk. 
 
 And scalped ere she was dead. 
 
 The great pine tree, we used to see. 
 
 Stood sentinel so true; 
 For many years was bathed in tears 
 
 Fresh as the morning dew. 
 
 Beneath this pine, in olden time, 
 
 A lovely, blooming maid 
 By Indian bands and savage hands 
 
 In death's cold arms was laid. 
 
 One hundred years, both sighs and tears 
 Have marked this sacred spot; 
 
 This tree of fame bore Jennie's name, 
 So she was not forgot. 
 
 Jennie McCrea was on her way 
 
 To be a soldier's bride; 
 Her lover true, with much ado, 
 
 Soon pined away and died. 
 
 Her lover wrote, and sent a note, 
 
 To one in high command, 
 To send her down unto his town 
 
 By some good, faithful band. 
 
He did obey — sent her avvaj^ 
 
 With Indians for her guide 
 To her befriend and to attend; 
 
 On horseback she did ride. 
 
 Now the}' have gone way down the lawn 
 
 Unto Fort Edward hill, 
 There met a band who did demand 
 
 Miss Jennie, or they'd kill. 
 
 The money prize, before their eyes. 
 Was what they wished to claim, 
 
 But the first crew the maiden slew. 
 To beat them in their game. 
 
 The General told he'd pay the gold 
 
 Whenever Jennie come, 
 To those who brought her, as they ought, 
 
 Unto his cabin home. 
 
 Now Jennie's love we prize above 
 
 A victory in the field, 
 Which heroes great leave desolate, 
 
 Though won with burnished steel. 
 
 The human heart still feels the smart. 
 
 And blushes at the crime; 
 This cruel deed — the people heed — 
 
 Can never waste with time. 
 
13 
 
 In this retreat here lovers meet 
 And their sweet tributes bring, 
 
 And tnnch tliey grieve — none to receive — 
 They leave them with the "spring". 
 
 We trust our race to keep this place 
 
 As faithful stewards, tried; 
 A sacred spot, not soon forgot, 
 
 Where love and beauty died. 
 
 The "spring" will tell where Jennie fell 
 
 Wlien ages roll away; 
 Will tell the truth to blooming youth, 
 
 And to the aged gray. 
 
 Hail, lovely "spring," our tributes bring 
 
 Your waters clear and cool, 
 Without the shade the pine tree made 
 
 By Nature's living pool. 
 
 Near Sandy Hill, as people tell. 
 
 Her ashes now remain, 
 Near to the gate, as friends do state, 
 
 Lie buried on the plain. 
 
 The marble stone tells everyone. 
 
 Instead of being wed. 
 Where she has been, and now lies in 
 
 The city of the dead. 
 
14 
 
 Farewell, we sa}-, to Jane McCrea, 
 
 We treat her as a guest; 
 A burning pain in hearts remain 
 
 While Jennie is at rest/ 
 
 We just ran down to Fort Edward mound 
 
 To hear those bitter moans; 
 Now we'll turn back upon our track 
 
 And look after the bones. 
 
 When you come here just drop a tear, 
 
 And think upon the slain; 
 Here on the beach their bones did bleach, 
 
 All scattered o'er the plain. 
 
 From Horicon to "Bloody Pond" 
 
 The massacre was made; 
 When all the gore drained from each pore, 
 
 'Twas then the slaughter stayed. 
 
 This bloody crew ere long withdrew 
 
 And went to old Quebec; 
 On Abraham's plain Montcalm was slain 
 
 In time to save his neck. 
 
 In Wolfe's command, we understand, 
 
 A soldier did obej^ 
 And fired a shot, in battle hot 
 
 Which laid him in the clay. 
 
15 
 
 It may be so, for aught we know, 
 
 Upon the other side, 
 For Wolfe was shot, forget it not, 
 
 And in the morning died. 
 
 Those generals bold, as we've been told, 
 Between their armies walked, 
 
 And there agreed each should proceed — 
 The soldiers heard them talk. 
 
 Wolfe should leave out his cannon stout, 
 
 Montcalm his cavalr}', 
 The battle fight to gain the right, 
 
 And be the victor free. 
 
 Both meant to cheat, to help them beat. 
 And bring in their whole force; 
 
 The troopers came, which was their game- 
 W^olfe's cannon sjjoke, of course. 
 
 Wolfe took the town with high renown 
 
 Of country far and near; 
 Pages sublime have marked the time. 
 
 And laurels, as we hear. 
 
 We'll change our route and turn about. 
 
 And dine at old "Ti. Fort," 
 W^here Johnny Bull gave all in full 
 
 To Ethan Allen's court. 
 
16 
 
 The bull exclaimed, "In whose f^reat name, 
 
 I wish to know the cause?" 
 "By the great God and Allen's rod, 
 
 And Continental laws." 
 
 Then Johnny sighed, and soon replied: 
 "I'm at your great comniand." 
 
 "Surrender all," v/as Allen's call, 
 In language great and grand. 
 
 A savage crew did once pursue 
 
 One Rogers to "The Slide"; 
 He took a leap down to the deep 
 
 With much heroic pride. 
 
 The redskins gazed — were much amazed 
 
 To see the General fly — 
 They fired a gun as Rogers run; 
 
 He bid the fiends "good b^-e." 
 
 Next comes "The Nose," where high wind 
 'Tis formed by Nature's art — [blows- 
 
 Her echoes plain upon the main 
 With ever}' sound will start. 
 
 We'll start our ship and on our trip 
 
 We'll call on Reuben Brad.: 
 His "House," complete, and kept so neat, 
 
 Makes Reub. a thriltv lad. 
 
17 
 
 One hundred isles do catch the smiles 
 
 Of thousands not asleep; 
 With love they gaze, and much do praise 
 
 These beauties of the deep. 
 
 One Sampson Paul, who had a call 
 
 One morning by daylight, 
 A panther strong did swim along 
 
 Quite near to Sampson's sight. 
 
 When he came near, he took his spear 
 
 And shoved it in his head; 
 Made no blunder, shoved him under. 
 
 And held him until dead. 
 
 One Daniel Moore, on Bolton's shore, 
 Was called to view the game; 
 
 A panther great, he did relate, 
 Also the Indian's fame. 
 
 We leave this shore for "Sagamore"; 
 
 Tt stands on Bolton ground. 
 And is May Queen of all we've seen 
 
 In going Lake George round. 
 
 We leave the queen on "Island Green," 
 
 And drift towards the sun, 
 And stop all day in "Middle Bay" 
 
 To see what squaws have done. 
 
18 
 
 Near to the head, in rocky bed, 
 
 Their relics still remain; 
 Their genius, skill, built many mill 
 
 To grind their bags of grain. 
 
 'Tis nice to view those mills so true. 
 
 Though very simple all. 
 Where ladies red ground corn for bread 
 
 To feed their children small. 
 
 Those mills were old as Aaron's gold; 
 
 Their birthday is unknown. 
 Still they may last while ages pass — 
 
 They're made of granite stone. 
 
 Lake George's name stands high with fame 
 
 For water and pure air; 
 Her dainty lish will crown our dish, 
 
 And thousands stopping there. 
 
 In times of old, as we've been told. 
 
 The Indian name went on 
 From year to year, without a fear — 
 
 'Twas lovely "'Horicon." * 
 
 In after years came doubts and fears. 
 
 For the Frenchmen had come, 
 And they were bent on "Sacrament," 
 
 And took its waters home. 
 
19 
 
 Some later day, b}' English sway, 
 
 When war did them inflame, 
 *'Lake George, thej^ said, our love hath wed, 
 
 And that shall be its name. 
 
 Columbia's boys, who reap the joys 
 
 Of fields their fathers won, 
 Now make the claim to change the name 
 
 Unto "Lake Washington." 
 
 The lake was won by Washington, 
 
 And is his honest claim; 
 From all the true it is his due 
 
 To change it to his name. 
 
 We hail the cars from Helen Mars, 
 
 Or from some other port, 
 Soon after dawn — eight in the morn — 
 
 Near to King George's fort. 
 
 The boat is here for j'ou, my dear. 
 
 To take you o'er the tide; 
 You can afford to step on board 
 
 And take a pleasant ride, 
 
 A happy day will pass awa}- 
 While passing through the lake. 
 
 For Nature's chart hangs here with art, 
 From it new lessons take. 
 
20 
 
 Then cast 3'our eye up to the sky 
 And view the mountain's peak; 
 
 What mighty power hath raised this tower 
 No mortal tongue can speak. 
 
 There's much to see, for you and me. 
 
 Of things both new and old; 
 Then gather gems from nature's stems 
 
 As jewels set in gold. 
 
 You'll soon be proud, your casket crown'd 
 
 With relics by your hand, 
 And then yon may bear them away 
 
 Unto your native land. 
 
 When you reach ''Ti" you'll sslx good bye 
 
 To scenes 3'ou leave behind, 
 And take the cars for the north stars 
 
 New pleasures for to find. 
 
 About nineteen, as we have seen, 
 
 The "Phoenix" on the lake, — 
 The first steamboat that here did float, — 
 
 Her lazy trips did make. 
 
 The "Phoenix" lay at close of day. 
 
 Tied to the dock, we hear. 
 And then the flame burnt up her name, 
 
 Which ended her career. 
 
21 
 
 The "Mountaineer" did next appear, 
 
 And she was very slow; 
 "William Caldwell" did better tell, 
 
 As every one doth know. 
 
 And then "John Jay" got in the way, 
 
 And she was better still, 
 But soon was burnt near to "Cook's Point," 
 
 And some few persons killed. 
 
 This splendid boat, of which I've wrote. 
 
 Took fire, as people tell; 
 Near to Cook's Isle, about one mile, 
 
 Where Garfield then did dwell. 
 
 The captain good and said he would 
 
 Run to the nearest shore; 
 She struck a rock and bounded back 
 
 Into the lake once more. 
 
 Then came the cry, "we all must die; 
 
 She's going out to burn;" 
 Then some, like sheep, jumped in the deep 
 
 And never did return. 
 
 All those who staid Avere soon conveyed 
 
 Unto the land, once more, 
 To view the fiame and call the dames 
 
 Who perished near the shore. 
 
A southern gale did soon prevail, 
 
 And drove her back again; 
 They threw a plank upon the bank, 
 
 Then walked off on the same. 
 
 'Tis verj' sad and awful bad 
 
 When we this scene relate; 
 No one to blame for this great flame: 
 
 We lay it all to fate. 
 
 One lady drowned and never found. 
 
 The husband being round, 
 She took a leap into the deep 
 
 And took five thousand down. 
 
 The boaft: id play both night and day, 
 
 And dragged the bottom o'er. 
 But all in vain, they did complain, — 
 Saw wife and cash no more. 
 
 The John Jay run, three yeaps were done. 
 
 As faithful as a bride, 
 Some days two trips — she made no skips 
 
 When Captain Farr did guide. 
 
 "Minnehaha," name of a squaw. 
 For many years went through, 
 
 And made good time, when in her prime,— 
 And the "Ganouskie," too. 
 
23 
 
 Now runs the "Ti," as eagles fly; 
 
 The "Horicon" is boss, 
 And makes her rounds, like Cooper's hounds, 
 
 Or some tliree minute "hoss." 
 
 The hotels grand, upon the strand, 
 
 Where many guests do stay. 
 And thousands more upon the shore, 
 
 In cottages so gay. 
 
 The steamers, proud of such a crowd 
 
 As they take through the lake, 
 Of aged gray and ladies gay. 
 
 Their pleasant trips do lake. 
 
 In starry night, with Luna bright, 
 
 The little steamers run 
 From Caldwell shore to Sagamore, 
 
 For pleasure parties' fun. 
 
 Ladies of wealth improve their health 
 
 Upon the lake, we've seen. 
 In skiffs at play, rowing away, 
 
 Fresh as the first May Queen. 
 
 In youth's gay time, while in my prime, 
 
 I sailed upon its tide; 
 I kissed her shrine, and love entwined. 
 
 And long dwelt by her side. 
 
24 
 
 The lake we leave, but much do grieve 
 
 To bid her scenes adieu, 
 No more to greet her pleasures sweet, 
 
 Her beauties growing new. 
 
 Now we have corae to my "sweet home," 
 
 Although 'tis somewhat rude, 
 Still we give rest to ever}' guest, 
 
 And dwell in quietude. 
 
 Fiftj'-six 3'ears I drove the steers. 
 
 And plowed this little place' 
 If one lacked bread, 'twas often said. 
 
 They called on Uncle Ase. 
 
 Now, my dear friend, I did intend 
 
 To make a truthful case; 
 If aught is wrong in all this song. 
 
 Please call on Uncle Ase. 
 
 Much has been written and been told 
 About Lake George in time of old, 
 
 Which warmed the heart, enshrined the soul. 
 To keep those relics safe as gold. 
 
 And when we call those scenes to mind. 
 
 There in an age that needs remind, . 
 Of savage yells and piercing steel, 
 
 Bv force the stronjjest form must vield. 
 
35 
 
 They tell us of the ancient names 
 
 Of Horicon or heroes fame, 
 From old histor^-'s musty page. 
 
 Forgetting this a better age. 
 
 The hearts of all, both old and young, 
 Are dreaming of Lake Horicon; 
 
 And in their visions, as they view, 
 
 They long for something fresh and new. 
 
 j^ow, here is what the tourists need — 
 A pleasant home that will pay heed. 
 
 And give them all the quiet rest, 
 With happj' hours they love the best. 
 
 Now, here you have a little guide 
 
 To ever}^ hotel by the tide. 
 So you are free to make your choice; 
 
 In eighteen hundred eighty-nine 
 
 Forty-four hotels we do find 
 Xow standing on Lake George's shores. 
 
 All lovely homes with open doors. 
 
 From William Henry's lofty fort, 
 
 Where people come to board and sport. 
 
 We take our start to march around 
 And compass in Lake George's bound. 
 
26 
 
 This hotel is of modern birth; 
 
 Five hundred boarders know its worth; 
 When summer comes it brings them here; 
 
 In autumn they all disappear. 
 
 A little east upon the shore, 
 
 Where belched the cannon's awful roar, 
 There lies Fort George, a ruined pile 
 
 And has lain there for a long while. 
 
 Now, we march on to Seel^'e's lot, 
 The fire has burnt that lovelj' spot 
 
 And laid it waste at least one year, 
 And tourist's miss this house so dear. 
 
 We take a stroll up Crosby's side, 
 Where stands the champion in pride; 
 
 There you can dine and take your tea — 
 In happiness can always be. 
 
 When to the Crosby house you come 
 You'll find a nice and fjleasant home 
 
 For old and young and middle age; 
 Then you will tarry with the sage. 
 
 Now, we go north upon the hill 
 Where Catholics do run the mill; 
 
 The Deity is there on hand 
 When they go to this happy land. 
 
27 
 
 Now, we go on to Fred Plum's point, 
 And here is nothing out of joint; 
 
 He gave us plums — all we could eat — 
 And if too many we got beat. 
 
 We now pass on to Joshua's rock, 
 Where Christians feed their little flock 
 
 Of Sunday schools with nice picnics; 
 Then stem the tide as sound as bricks. 
 
 There's Elvin Seelye in this row, 
 And Cynthia's postoffice below, 
 
 An honor to old Dunham's bay — 
 Good fishes caught near, by the way. 
 
 Here is a house made of nice stone 
 And owned by Doctor Egglestone, 
 
 Where he can write his great thoughts down 
 Of Horicon or city town. 
 
 Now, we were in Lige Dunham's bay, 
 With a long creek where fishes play. 
 
 And water lillies growing wild. 
 
 More beautiful than mother's child. 
 
 We leave this bay and on our route. 
 And call where Braytons dine on trout, 
 
 Near the canal, in cottage white, 
 Where friends do linger in the nio^ht. 
 
28 
 
 Here we will stop and rest awhile, 
 A chowder eat — gotten up in stj-le — 
 
 And made of trouts — delicious treat — 
 Ah ! lovely dish, you're hard to beat. 
 
 This flowr^' landscape in its bloom, 
 More beautiful than bride or groom. 
 
 When dressed in nature's smiling art 
 "Will surely win the proudest heart. 
 
 A little north is Polly Wood's; 
 
 We recognize her ver^' good, 
 And she is ninety years of age. 
 
 Still she is here upon the stage. 
 
 We hoist our sail, run to Cape Ann; 
 
 This name was made bj^ a sailing man 
 In eighteen hundred thirty-two, 
 
 While sailing round the lake to view. 
 
 In eighty -nine, while in a haste, 
 
 The name was changed to suit their taste. 
 Where priests will come intent to preach. 
 
 And then good morals the}' can teach. 
 
 Here is the place for human bliss; • 
 We recognize Lake 'George for this. 
 
 And thank old. nature for those charms. 
 Devising them into our arms. 
 
29 
 
 The new name — now Assembly point — 
 And this may not be out of joint; 
 
 Thousands may come to land so nice 
 In this beautiful pavjidise. 
 
 Here is a boarding house in sig:ht, 
 And Mr. Frommel keeps it right; 
 
 Here you can dine on great big fish 
 And chickens, too; tiiat's if 3'ou wish. 
 
 Here yon will tarry summers long 
 Where all is well and nothing wrong 
 
 Until the autumn bird reveals 
 
 Then wing your way to sunny fields. 
 
 We now go south to middle bay, 
 And pick up relics by the way; 
 
 The first we meet upon this line 
 Is James Harris, fixing to dine. 
 
 He now has twenty souls to feed 
 And to do so he must pay heed; 
 
 He owns a part of sunset hill, 
 
 Where all his boarders roam at will. 
 
 Here is a home that will pay heed 
 And give you all the rest you need, 
 
 In quietude both night and day, 
 And feed you trout the first of May. 
 
30 
 
 When 3'0ii look out upon the tide, 
 In early morn on Sunny side, 
 
 A challenge here will meet your eyes: 
 Come out to-day and win the prize. 
 
 James takes the boarders out to fish 
 Upon the lake if 'tis their wish, 
 
 And here they get the ready pay 
 In double quick without delay. 
 
 Now, we turn east to Brayton's dock. 
 And. here we meet a splendid flock 
 
 From village and from city, too. 
 Their visits here, health to renew. 
 
 The bullheads here will fill 3'our dish. 
 But if you choose some larger dish 
 
 The chickens here, with lamb and steak 
 Are soon on hand and no mistake. 
 
 Here is a farm to grow the stuff. 
 So all that come can have enough, 
 
 And Walter here to catch the fish, 
 So you can have them good and fresh. 
 
 Now, we go north to Warren Gunn, 
 And he is on the course we run; 
 
 And now he owns the Ripley farm, 
 And is our neighbor free from harm. 
 
31 
 
 Here James Riple^' lived long and died, 
 
 A patriot of manly pride; 
 We place this little tribute here 
 
 In memory of our friend so dear. 
 
 James was my mate when in my prime; 
 We rambled over hills sublime, 
 And often brought home noble deer. 
 And bruin, too, in our career. 
 
 Black mountain was mj' friend's resort; 
 
 The deer were thick — the hounds retort- 
 But when we wanted extra fun 
 
 We would cross over to Short Run. 
 
 And here we caught some splendid buck. 
 And fancy deer — 't was our good luck — 
 
 But now those scenes are far behind; 
 Still gems do linger in the mind. 
 
 Now, we go north to Ripley's Point, 
 And here is nothing out of joint; 
 
 The hotel here has many guests 
 Who tarry long in quiet rest. 
 
 Here Mr. Ferris feeds them well, 
 And this the boarders often tell; 
 
 The steamers bring the daily mail 
 All summer long to Cleverdale. 
 
32 
 
 Here is a village, nice and gay 
 
 Where people come to rest and phi}', 
 
 And dine upon the best of fish, 
 
 And everything that heart can wish. 
 
 Then on the lake the}' take a ride 
 To catch some fish or sail the tide. 
 
 Or on the mountains take a stroll 
 As free as air, none to control. 
 
 We leave this point in splendid grace, 
 And go on east to Sheldon's place: 
 
 And here we find them nice and clean 
 As any place that we have seen. 
 
 And eighty boarders in the hall, 
 
 Of old and 3'oung, both great and small, 
 
 Who yearly come and make their call. 
 And tarry late into the fall. 
 
 This is a nice and pleasant spot, 
 And those who come are not forgot, 
 
 For Ella watches every side; 
 To care for all it is her pride. 
 
 Now% we go south to Siieldon's home, 
 Where Mr. Gates stands in his room. 
 
 And keeps the house with much renown. 
 And everything from running down. 
 
33 
 
 O'er fifty 3'ears, in times of old, 
 Here Allen Sheldon did control 
 
 And kept the house with genius' skill, 
 And was our neighbor free from ill. 
 
 We now go east to Grove hotel, 
 Where every thing was always well, 
 
 And Wetmore standing on the dock, 
 To care for all his splendid flock. 
 
 Near rocky point, in blissful shade. 
 Here one can sit down by his maid7 
 
 And breath his sweetest notes of love 
 Near this good hotel in the grove. 
 
 There are six cottages, all well, 
 Not far away from Grove hotel, 
 
 And they were full both night and day. 
 All standing near Van Wormer's bay. 
 
 We now go north to Cronkhite's place. 
 
 The beautiful of all our race, 
 That we have seen while on our route; 
 
 It long was called Pavilion Trout. 
 
 This splendid shore and landscape green, 
 More beautiful than first Ma}' Queen; 
 
 It crowns the eastern shores so gay; 
 When boarders come, they come to stay 
 
34 
 
 Here is a mountain full of fun; 
 
 Ladies walk up and down they run 
 'Mid summer flowers, fresh and new, 
 
 And little birds to sing for you. 
 
 We now pass on to Phelps' hall; 
 
 This house is nice and very tall; 
 A cupola upon the top, 
 
 And here the young ones dance and hop. 
 
 Four cottages, and they are right, 
 All standing on a pleasant site; 
 
 Not far away from the Mayflower, 
 In quietude they spend the hour. 
 
 We now go to the Mayflower; 
 
 This house is full at every hour 
 When visitors are at the lake — 
 
 A quiet home and no mistake. 
 
 Now, we go north to Kattskill bay. 
 Where all do get the ready pay 
 
 In everything that hearC can wish. 
 And dine on bullhead, trout and fish. 
 
 Where Scoville watches every face 
 To see if things are in their place, 
 
 And looks for all within his care 
 
 And sees that each one gets his share. 
 
35 
 
 A pleasant place for every one, 
 
 No prejudice for any tongue, 
 But makes all happy when they call. 
 
 Then they will stay till in the fall. 
 
 Here are nine cottages so gay 
 
 Upon the shores of Kattskill bay; ■ 
 
 Among the crowd is Rocky Rest, 
 Where Braytons go and think it best. 
 
 Here is Green Island near our road. 
 Where campers often do unload: 
 
 When summer comes it brings a club — 
 Manhattan boys, who live on grub. 
 
 We next go to Brayton's retreat. 
 
 Where you can rest serenely sweet 
 In paradise b}^ nature made. 
 
 And checkered with sunshide and shade. 
 
 And here the elements do blend 
 To sweeten love they do intend. 
 
 And kiss the cheeks with roses sweet 
 Of old and 3'oung in this retreat. 
 
 The purest water here on earth. 
 The finest trout b}' nature's birth. 
 
 And shady groves serenely nice, 
 All tell their tales of Paradise. 
 
36 
 
 The mountains here are full of game; 
 
 The fox, the deer and bear by name. 
 The rabbit, coon and partridge, too, 
 
 And often squirrels near in view. 
 
 The berries here were nice and fair, 
 And growing wild without our care, 
 
 The blueberries upon the hills, 
 
 Far sweeter, too, than Herrick's Pills. 
 
 Here is a site for a hotel. 
 
 Bj^ Nature made, and all is well. 
 And near the road from Kattskill shore. 
 
 About half way to Sagamore. 
 
 Now we go to Victoria lodge. 
 
 And this great truth no one can dodge; 
 Here you can dine on lovely trout 
 
 If you stop here upon your route. 
 
 Here is the place to get them right. 
 For they were caught near by in sight. 
 
 And when they come, all fresh we know. 
 Then we go at them on tip toe. 
 
 Seven cottages both new and old, . 
 
 Upon this shore we have not told. 
 We leave them all in good report 
 
 To stay there long and have their sport. 
 
37 
 
 Camp Andrews stands in Phelps' ba}', 
 Where pioneers long summers stay; 
 
 With hook and line he plays his part, 
 To catch big trout he has an art. 
 
 His boarders were from city halls,' 
 Who yearly come and make their calls 
 
 Unto this land serenel}' sweet. 
 
 Ah ! lovely home, you're hard to beat. 
 
 Here, Norman Phelps did come and stop, 
 Felled the first tree and raised a crop, 
 
 And built a house of logs and sticks — 
 A soldier, too, of sevent^'-six. 
 
 Six brilliant sons, and daughters two, 
 Were landed here when life was new; 
 
 Now all have gone save Uncle John — 
 Ninety-one years, and still runs on. 
 
 Here is a stream called Butternut brook; 
 
 We cannot pass without a look, 
 It winds its way through hill and dell 
 
 Beneath Buck mountains' morning bell. 
 
 Three generations passed, we say. 
 
 And the fourth got on the way 
 Where their great grandsire stemmed the tide, 
 
 And cared for all with his good bride. 
 
We often hear of Shelving rock, 
 
 That noted place where hunters flock, 
 
 Where they could sleep secure from rain 
 When stormj^ winds sweep o'er the plain. 
 
 Here are old hens and chickens four; 
 
 She has set long and hatched no more; 
 We cannot give her years in store, 
 
 Perh';ips ten million o'er and o'er. 
 
 Now we will sail to Fourteen Mile; 
 
 This Island now in city style: 
 Full seventy years I've traveled o'er 
 
 Hw pleasant wilds and rock-bound shore. 
 
 Now, she is, b}" the art of man, 
 
 Cultivating this rocky land. 
 He lays it into walks and parks. 
 
 Where ladies skip around like larks. 
 
 A splendid hotel here in view, 
 
 Where you can feed your whole boat's crew; 
 Then go unto 3'our nightly rest; 
 
 That's if you choose and think it best. 
 
 Now, we will go but half a mile, 
 And stop at the One Hundred Isles, 
 
 And Bradley laughs to see us come, 
 
 P'or he well knows we're far from home. 
 
39 
 
 And tired, too, and want some grub — 
 A venison steak puts on the nub — 
 
 So here we sta,y and all recruit; 
 All summer long we know it suits. 
 
 And here you have Miss Mary's care; 
 
 Such landladies are very rare, 
 For everything comes quick and true, 
 
 And her good graces with it, too. 
 
 Now, we will take a step or two 
 O'er to Pearl Point; it's good and new; 
 
 'Tis very nice, a pleasant home. 
 And they will care for all that come. 
 
 Here's many beauties on these Isles, 
 
 In cottages that nearly smile. 
 But we must pass them on a run 
 
 And let them stay and have their fun. 
 
 We drift along to Western's bay; 
 
 That was its name in former days; 
 Now it is changed to Paradise. 
 
 Its bosom smooth and very nice. 
 
 Now, here is where the gentry go 
 To view old Nature's hidden show; 
 
 Its beauties were of Nature's birth, 
 
 Like all those mountains and this earth. 
 
40 
 
 Now, we will sail to Popple point, 
 Here every thing is out of joint; 
 
 The hotel here Avas burnt with fire, 
 And nothing left that we desire. 
 
 Now we will run down the long Sue, 
 To Huletts Landing, take a view 
 
 Of this nice hotel by the lake. 
 Where all the travelers partake. 
 
 We leave the bosom in their pride 
 And run down along by the side 
 
 Of this nice house upon the hill, 
 Where people sta}' quiet and still. 
 
 Near Taft's old home, where once he stayed 
 And all in happiness were made; 
 
 Now he is gone and cannot bless 
 xVny of his neighbors or the rest. 
 
 Now, Ave go north to old bluff head. 
 And here the gentry is not dead; 
 
 They now run over hill and dell, 
 So we pronounce them getting well. 
 
 There is a house down in Gull bay 
 Where everj^thing is looking gay. 
 
 And Nature, smiling in her art, 
 To sweeten love and win the heart. 
 
41 
 
 It's standing on the eastern shore 
 
 The boarders sit with open door 
 To catch the purest moimt^iin breeze 
 
 That drifts along to fan the trees. 
 
 Now, we will take a length}' road 
 Where all the steamers do unload; 
 
 They land them safe upon the dock, 
 Sometimes one thousand in a flock. 
 
 And here the}' take the northern road 
 Down to the fort and then unload 
 
 Where Ethan Allen took the fort 
 In one dark night, which made much sport. 
 
 Now we run back to Rogers' slide, 
 Where stands a hotel by the tide. 
 
 Her doors are open far and wide; 
 To care for all it is their pride. 
 
 Now, we go south up the west shore 
 
 Some four miles or a little more, 
 And stop awhile and take our rest, 
 
 For here our friends do think it best. 
 
 Here is a house upon an isle 
 Where all the boys do stop awhile 
 
 When they go on their fishing route, 
 And never fail to catch big trout. 
 
42 
 
 This place was known as Cook's best Isle 
 In ancient days when Nature smiled, 
 
 But now she's in a better sphere. 
 
 Where boarders come from far and near. 
 
 Now, we go over to old Hague, 
 Where all is well and none to plague; 
 'Tis where Nathaniel Garfield died, 
 A champion of merit — pride. 
 
 He was a light in every part 
 And had the love of every heart; 
 
 He has been gone near thirty j'ears, 
 And still his mem'ry's fresh with tears. 
 
 Here are three hotels in a row 
 Where all the great ones choose to go; 
 
 The boarders were from city nice. 
 Sit looking on lake Paradise. 
 
 Here is a church now rich with grace, 
 And all who come can have a place 
 
 To hear the tidings from above, 
 
 Where all were blest with Jesus' love. 
 
 This lake might well be called the queen 
 Of all the world that we have seen. 
 
 Since she is beautiful and nice 
 
 Please change her name to Paradise. 
 
48 
 
 The lake is one of beauty's heirs, 
 The goddess of old Nature's cares, 
 
 And blended with magnetic charms, 
 
 Though cradled in the mountains' arms. 
 
 She draws the loved ones on their tours 
 And holds the swa}^ of Europe's powers; 
 
 They wed with her and kiss her shrine 
 And then in love their souls entwine. 
 
 Lake Horicon has much renown 
 
 Without the name of England's crown; 
 
 She's not under King George's power, 
 But cost eight years of weary hours. 
 
 She's now in the land of the free 
 
 And shaded by liberty's tree: 
 Since she is so charming and nice 
 
 Please call her name Lake Paradise. 
 
 Here is a house in Silver Bay, 
 And new beginners, so they sa}^: 
 
 Please call and see our new-born place, 
 Then you will leave us your good grace. 
 
 Here is the place to catch the deer, 
 For they run in quite often here! 
 
 When hunters go into the wood 
 We surely get some venison good. 
 
44 
 
 Now, we sail south to Sabbath point; 
 
 Here Samuel stands, all to annoint, 
 And care for all he's good and kind, 
 
 A better home is hard to find. 
 
 The French stopped here o'er Sabbath day 
 For to hold service on their way, 
 
 And prayed the Lord to guide them right 
 Straight through the lake by day or night. 
 
 Here is a church in city style 
 Where you can go and sit awhile. 
 
 And talk about the blessed Lord — 
 How He did them always reward. 
 
 Here's where Captain Patchen first came; 
 
 He built a house and made his home. 
 Soon as the war of seventy-six 
 
 Had left us free fromm savage tricky. 
 
 And here is where the Captain died, 
 In a snow bank near by the tide; 
 
 Alone our hero falls and dies. 
 And no one near to hear his cries. 
 
 Our hero had a genius— skill — 
 Devised to him by Nature's will; 
 
 A champion in early age, 
 
 A captain, too, and last a sage. 
 
45 
 
 Out north is where the people tell 
 The soldier fought with death and fell, 
 
 And there he ended his career, 
 Our patriot and friend so dear. 
 
 This is a nice and pleasant place, 
 And those who come do leave their grace 
 
 Before they go a cottage rear 
 
 To shelter them some other year. 
 
 When summer comes they're on the wing 
 To view those mountains in the spring, 
 
 Though far away in homes so nice 
 Still they dream of Lake Paradise. 
 
 And here they sing, both preach and pray. 
 And tell their saints this is the way 
 
 To bring along their little boys 
 And fill their souls for heavenly joys. 
 
 Now, we go south to a wigwam 
 Where Anthony stayed summers long, 
 
 An Indian, too, and that's not all, 
 His good name was Antliony Paul. 
 
 A preacher too of merit worth. 
 Although he had an Indian birth, 
 
 And now here stands beside this rock 
 A Christian home where people flock. 
 
46 
 
 To get away from city rude 
 
 And rest awhile in quietude; 
 The place serene by Nature made 
 
 And checkered with sunshide and shade. 
 
 Here was a hotel at French Point, 
 But now the the thing is out of joint; 
 
 The fire has swept the house away, 
 And no place left for us to stay. 
 
 We now come to the Sagamore, 
 
 The finest hotel on the shore, 
 And crowded full of city guests 
 
 While other hotels take the rest. 
 
 It's standing on the Island Green, 
 A beaut,y, too, of all we've seen. 
 
 And Myron, watching by her side, 
 Of all the rest he is their pride. 
 
 Hundreds have come in former .years 
 And left the lake with briny tears; 
 
 Thousands will come to lands so nice 
 In this beautiful paradise. 
 
 The Bolton house is very near,. 
 
 And full of boarders every year; 
 One beauty, too, above the rest. 
 
 Her scenery is far the best. 
 
The Wells house, too, is very nigh, 
 And with the rest they claim to vie, 
 
 Though Lon is small he works all day 
 To make all happy while they stay. 
 
 This is a trait that some have not 
 To make all happy on the spot; 
 
 This is a virtue all would prize; 
 Some others dress more in disguise. 
 
 Here stands our friend, one Richard Brown. 
 
 When he's not up then he is down; 
 His houses full of city guests 
 
 Who yearly come and think it best. 
 
 Brown can survey these mountains o'er, 
 And all around this rock-bound shore; 
 
 He has a compass none can beat; 
 It tells his boarders when to eat. 
 
 Here are more hotels rich with grace 
 
 That are not mentioned in this place; 
 So all that come can have a share 
 If in go»d time they do get there. 
 
 We next stop at Mohican place; 
 
 She was the first of all the race. 
 In eighteen hundred and nineteen 
 
 She was the first to be ISIay Queen. 
 
48 
 
 When I was scarce!}^ in my teens 
 1 viewed the hotel and those scenes, 
 
 O'er seventy years 'tis very true, 
 And still her beauty's growing new. 
 
 Although her age, eighty or more, 
 Still she is young upon this shore; 
 
 This place is sweet and serene. 
 Well may we call her first May Queen; 
 
 Here stands four churclies near the lake. 
 And they were built for Christians sake 
 
 Here all are free who choose to go 
 And pa,y their tribute here below. 
 
 Now, we will stop at Basin ba,y 
 To meet our club; this is the day; 
 
 In social friendship is no crime 
 To while away old lazy time. 
 
 As we go south the next we meet 
 Upon this shore is Henry's fleet; 
 
 He is not there but gone away 
 As others to have gone to stay. 
 
 We now pass on to Sherman's dock. 
 
 And here we meet a splendid flock 
 Of city boarders from their hall, 
 
 Who stay all summer into fall. 
 
49 
 
 TJie liote] Jiore is vory grand 
 Willi the best fixino^ of the land, 
 
 With w.-dks and parks, with splendid shade 
 Where one can sit down by his maid. 
 
 And when you f^o sit down to dine 
 
 Toil find a table rich as wine, 
 And a orood waiter by your side 
 
 To wait on you and your good bride. 
 
 Next we will run to old Smith brook 
 And stop awhile and take a look 
 
 On this young village by the way 
 Where Nature ke(^ps th(^m from decay. 
 
 Here is a hotel by the way 
 
 That is kept open every day. 
 Here you can dine, that's if you will, 
 
 If you are quiet and keep still. 
 
 Here is a church made of nice stone, 
 Where Christians go all gvery one. 
 
 And talk about their Saviour's grace, 
 h\ pardoning all old Adam's race. 
 
 Now, we go south u.jwn a run 
 
 And scarcely stop for any one, 
 Although we pass some places nice, 
 
 Especially th(.' Colonel Price. 
 
50 
 
 But he has gone to.be no more 
 
 And all will miss him on the shore 
 
 Where once the Colonel played his part 
 And healed the wounds of ever}' heart. 
 
 We next stop at the little isle 
 
 And take our tea and rest awhile; 
 
 Now we were just one mile away 
 From the village, as people say. 
 
 James Caldwell was the noble man, 
 The founder of this village plan. 
 
 And gave the Warren. County site 
 Where stands the court house in its might. 
 
 And the clerks office — all the ground — 
 Where our safe treasures all, were found: 
 
 This was a noble gift, we know, 
 And Warren Count}^ thought it so. 
 
 He built and lived in mansion house 
 
 Out north, as quiet as a mouse, 
 And when he left and went away. 
 
 His son, William, had all the sway. 
 
 William ruled all as we have heard, 
 When his time came he disappeared; 
 
 'Tis said that William did no less, 
 But gave the steamboat a new dress. 
 
51 
 
 The boat was named William Caldwell, 
 And this to all the truth will tell, 
 
 Here are four hotels, all were good. 
 That will give care to all their brood. 
 
 But the Lake House is very old. 
 And hath a charm like pure gold; 
 
 She's standing by the lake we see, 
 "Where all the tourists love to be. 
 
 Here is George Brown, an old landlord, 
 And with our friendship we reward; 
 
 He has been through the spirit land 
 Full forty years, and still a man. 
 
 We place this tribute on his door, 
 
 Unto his credit evermore. 
 For in the future as the past 
 
 Our good old friend will ever last. 
 
 Here are four churches standing near. 
 Where you can go and take your dear, 
 
 And pay your tribute to the Lord; 
 Then in good time he will reward. 
 
 Now, we are at the great hotel; 
 
 Gone round the lake and all is well; 
 We have come here to view the ground 
 
 Where redskins slaughtered all they found. 
 
52 
 
 Now, here we see tlie art of man 
 In this fine hotel on the strand, 
 
 Where once the crimson tide did flow; 
 With tomahawk tliey dealt the blow. 
 
 Then with the knife they took the scalp, 
 And no one there to give them help 
 
 Montcalm agreed to pay them heed 
 So none should suffer, die or bleed. 
 
 Bui let his Indians massacree 
 
 All but seven in savage glee; 
 Not long the traitor had to wait 
 
 On Abram's plain he met his fate. 
 
 Now, here we see this lake of joy. 
 All through my life down to a boy. 
 
 Eighty-six years have passed and gone, 
 Still I am here to write this song. 
 
 I always dwelt near Middle bay 
 And ever hope to while I stay; 
 
 The lake hath got a pleasant charm, 
 And I am happy on my farm. 
 
 Now, when you read this little song, 
 If you should find that I was wrong 
 
 Be kind and good and rest your case, 
 Then come and see your Uncle Ase. 
 
53 
 
 Should I come out and undertake 
 To tell the beauties of this lake; 
 
 Of all the mountains and those isles, 
 
 Language would fail while Nature smiles. 
 
 Now, here I close this diagram, 
 Of drawing sketclies o'er the land, 
 
 Of scenery and homes so nice. 
 In this beautiful Paradise 
 
LAKE GEORGE 
 
 AND- 
 
 ITS SURROUNDINGS 
 
 BOTH OLD AND NEW. 
 IN RHYME. 
 
 Revised and Enlarged by a Second Part, 
 MAKING a Circle of the Lake, touching 
 
 ALL the principal POINTS OP INTEREST, 
 - THE HOTELS, BOARDING HOUSES, 
 CHURCHES and COTTAGES IN 
 GENERAL, NOTING THE PRIN- 
 CIPAL LAND MARKS OP 
 THE OLDEN TIMES. 
 
 ♦ctBy ASA w^. Br?AYTor^.8- 
 
 ^H 
 
 GLENS FALLS, N. Y.: 
 
 STAR PUBLISHING CO., PRINTERS. 
 189I. 
 
Vi 22U85 
 
\-yw^^\^'' %'>^y ^^ 
 
 ^-^■' # 
 

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