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YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

MEMOIRS OF AN
AMERICAN LADY

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-¦¦ COPIES ONLY OF THIS
EDITION HAVE BEEN PRINTED

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MEMOIRS OF AN
AMERICAN LADY
WITH SKETCHES OF MANNERS AND
SCENES IN AMERICA AS THEY EX
ISTED PREVIOUS TO THE REVOLUTION

By MRS. ANNE GRANT
Author of " Letters from the Mountains.^' etc.
WITH UNPUBLISHED LETTERS
AND A MEMOIR OF MRS. GRANT
By JAMES GRANT WILSON
IN TWO VOLUMES ¦ VOLUME TWO

\

NEW YORK ¦ DODD, MEAD
AND COMPANY • M D C C C CI

Copyright, 1901, by
DoDD, Mead and Company

UNIVERSITY PRESS . JOHN WILSON
AND SON ¦ CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.

CONTENTS
Chapter Pagb
I. Death of Colonel Philip Schuyler  i
II. Mrs, Schuyler's Arrangements and Conduct after
the Colonel's Death  7
III. Mohawk Indians — - Sir William Johnson ... 13
IV. General Abercrombie — Death of Lord Howe . 20
V. Defeat at Ticonderoga — General Lee — Human
ity of Madame  29
VI. The Family of Madame's Sister — The Death of
the Latter  35
VII. Further Success of the British Arms — A Mission
ary — Cortlandt Schuyler  40
VIII. Burning of the House at the Flats — Madame's
Removal — Journey ofthe Author .... 47
IX. Continuation of the Journey — Arrival at Oswego 57
X. Benefit of Select Reading — Hunting Excursion . 69
XI, Gardening and Agriculture — Return of the Au
thor to Albany  74
XII. Madame's Family and Society Described . , , 81
XIII, Sir Jeffrey Amherst — Mutiny — Indian War , 9 1
XIV, Pontiac — Sir Robert Davers  99
XV, Death of Captain Dalyell — Madame — Her Pro
teges  107
XVI, Madame's Popularity — Exchange of Prisoners , 117
XVII, Return of the 55th Regiment to Europe — Pri
vates sent to Pensacola . . . . . . . 122
'XVIII. Property at Clarendon — Visionary Plans . , , 128

vi CONTENTS
Chapter Page
XIX, Return to the Flats — Summer Amusements . 142
XX, Melancholy Presages — Turbulence ofthe People 147
XXI, Settlers of a new Description — Madame's
Chaplain  156
XXII, Mode of conveying Timber in Rafts down the
River  168
XXIII, The Swamp — Patrick Coonie  172
XXIV. Mrs. Schuyler's View of the Continental Politics 181
XXV, Description of the breaking up of the Ice on
Hudson's River  185
XXVI, Departure from Albany — Origin ofthe State of
Vermont  191
XXVII, Prosperity of Albany — General Reflections , 200
XXVIII, Further Reflections — General Hamilton , . 2H
XXIX. Sketch of the Settlement of Pennsylvania , . 219
XXX, Prospects brightening in America  228
APPENDIX
Letters to Dr, Joseph Green Cogswell  237
Correspondence between Mrs, Alexander Hamilton and
Mrs. Grant  258
Letters to Mrs. Douglas Cruger, of New York , , , , 266
Letters to Mrs. Grant from Robert Southey and Others 271
" The Indian Widow," and Lines addressed to an Ameri
can Lady  282
A List of Mrs, Anne Grant's Writings  287
Index  291

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Portrait of Mrs, Grant after a painting by Sir John Watson
Gordon. From a photograph received from Mrs. Annie
Laggan Dewar, of Dunfermline, Scotland . , Frontispiece
FACING PAGE
The Vanderhuyden Palace, erected on North Pearl Street
in 1725, Introduced by Washington Irving in his
story of "The Haunted House." From a water-
color drawing  24
General Philip Schuyler's residence, built in 1760—61. In
this historic mansion Washington, Lafayette, Franklin,
and Burgoyne were entertained, and Alexander Hamil
ton and Elizabeth Schuyler were married in 1780 , 45
Madame Schuyler's residence at the Flats. A front view.
In this house Lord Howe was a guest when on his way
to Ticonderoga, and to it he was brought back dead . 48
North side of State Street from Pearl to the third house
east of James Street. The corner of James Street was
the birthplace of Anneke Jans  79
State Street, north side, from near James Street to Broadway 1 1 2
North Pearl Street and the North Dutch Church about
1805, From a wai. '-color drawing  157
View of Albany from Van Rensselaer Island, Copied from a
rare English steel engraving  1 68
Fort Frederick, State Street, Albany, as seen in Colonial
days. From a painting in the possession of Mrs.
J. V. L. Pruyn of Albany  183
A facsimile of Aunt Schuyler's signature, from her will , . 196

viii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING PAGE
Buildings in part erected on the site of Vanderhuyden Pal
ace, From a pencil sketch made about 1840 by the
late James M, Hart  200
The west side of Pearl Street from Maiden Lane north as it
was in 18 14, From a water- color drawing . . . 215
North Pearl Street from State Street to Maiden Lane,
From a water-color drawing  228
The east side of Market Street, now Broadway, from
Maiden Lane south. From a water-color drawing . 248
The west side of Market Street, now Broadway, from near
Maiden Lane, From a water-color drawing . . , 263
The Schuyler Arms, From a painting in the possession of
Mrs, Harriett Crosby Thompson of Troy .... 287

MEMOIRS
OF
AN AMERICAN LADY
Chapter I
DEATH OF COLONEL PHILIP SCHUYLER
THIS year (1757) was marked by an event
that not only clouded the future life of
Madame, but occasioned the deepest concern to the
whole province. Colonel Schuyler was scarcely
sensible of the decline of life, except some attacks
of the rheumatism, to which the people of that
country are peculiarly subject: he enjoyed sound
health and equal spirits, and had upon the whole,
from the temperance of his habits, and the singular
equanimity of his mind, a more likely prospect of
prolonging his happy and useful life, than falls to
the lot of most people. He had, however, in very
cold weather, gone to town to visit a relation, then
ill of a pleurisy ; and having sat a while by the
invalid, and conversed with him both on his worldly
and spiritual affairs, he returned very thoughtful.
On rising the next morning, he began the day, as
had for many years been his custom, with singing
VOL. II. — I

2 MEMOIRS OF
some verses of a psalm in his closet. Madame
observed that he was interrupted by a most violent
fit of sneezing ; this returned again a little after,
when he calmly told her, that he felt the symptoms
of a pleuritic attack, which had begun in the same
manner with that of his friend; that the event
might possibly prove fatal ; but that knowing as
she did how long a period ^ of more than common
felicity had been granted to their mutual affection,
and with what tranquillity he was enabled to look
forward to that event which is common to all, and
which would be earnestly desired if withheld ; he
expected of her that, whatever might happen, she
would look back with gratitude, and forward with
hope ; and in the meantime honor his memory, and
her own profession of faith, by continuing to live
in the manner they had hitherto done, that he
might have the comfort of thinking that his house
might still be an asylum to the helpless and the
stranger, and a desirable place of meeting to his
most valued friends ; this was spoken with an un
altered countenance, and in a calm and even tone.
Madame, however, was alarmed ; friends from all
quarters poured in, with the most anxious con
cern for the event. By this time there was an
hospital built at Albany for the troops ; with a
regular medical establishment. No human aid was
wanting, and the composure of Madame astonished
every one. This, however, was founded on hope ; •
1 Forty years. — Mrs. Grant.

AN AMERICAN LADY 3
for she never could let herself imagine the danger
serious, being flattered both by the medical attend
ants, and the singular fortitude of the patient. He,
however, continued to arrange all things for the
change he expected ; he left his houses in town and
country, his plate, and in short all his effects, to his
wife, at her sole disposal ; his estates were finally
left to the orphan son of his nephew, then a child
in the family ; but Madame was to enjoy the rents
during her life.
His negroes, for whom he had a great affection,
were admitted every day to visit him ; and with all
the ardor of attachment peculiar to that kind-
hearted race, implored heaven day and night for
his recovery. The day before his death, he had
them all called round his bed, and in their presence
besought Madame that she would upon no account
sell any of them ; this request he would not have
made could he have foreseen the consequences.
On the fifth day of his illness he quietly breathed
his last ; having expressed, while he was able to
articulate, the most perfect confidence in the mercy
of the God whom he had diligently served and
entirely trusted ; and the most tender attachment
to the friends he was about to leave.^
It would be avain attempt to describe the sorrow
1 Col. Philip Schuyler died February i6, 1758. Byhis will he
divided his large landed estate between his brothers and sisters, or their
heirs. His personal property and a farm on the Mohawlc river, with
the use of the Flats for life, he gave to his widow.

4 MEMOIRS OF
of a family like his, who had all been accustomed
from childhood to look up to him as the first of
mankind, and the medium through which they re
ceived every earthly blessing ; while the serenity of
his wisdom, the sweet and gentle cast of his heartfelt
piety, and the equal mildness of his temper, rendered
him incapable of embittering obligations ; so that
his generous humanity and liberal hospitality, were
adorned by all the graces that courtesy could add to
kindness. The public voice was loud in its plaudits
and lamentations. In the various characters of a
patriot, a hero, and a saint, he was dear to all the
friends of valor, humanity, and public spirit ; while
his fervent loyalty, and unvaried attachment to the
king, and the laws of that country by which his own
was protected, endeared him to all the servants of
government; who knew they never should meet with
another equally able, or equally disposed to smooth
their way in the paths of duty assigned to them.
To government this loss would have been irrep
arable, had not two singular and highly meritorious
characters a little before this time made their ap
pearance, and by superiority of merit and abilities,
joined with integrity seldom to be met with any
where, in some degree supplied the loss to the pub
lic. One of these was Sir William Johnson, the
Indian superintendent, formerly mentioned ; the
other was Cadwallader Colden,^ for a very long
^ Cadwallader Colden was born in Dunse, Scotland, February 17,
1688 ; died on Long Island, September 28, 1776.

AN AMERICAN LADY 5
period of years lieutenant-governor (indeed virtually
governor) of New York ; who in point of political
sagacity, and thorough knowledge of those he gov
erned, was fully capable to supply that place. This
shrewd and able ruler, whose origin I believe was
not very easily traced, was said to be a Scotchman,
and had raised himself solely by his merit to the
station he held. In this he maintained himself by
indefatigable diligence, rigid justice, and the most
perfect impartiality. He neither sought to be feared
nor loved, but merely to be esteemed and trusted,
and thus fixed his power on the broad foundation
of public utility. Successive governors, little ac
quainted with the country, and equally strangers to
business, found it convenient to leave the manage
ment with him ; who confessedly understood it
better than any one else, and who had no friends
but a few personal ones, and no enemies but a few
public ones, who envied his station. It was very
extraordinary to see a man rule so long and so
steadily where he was merely and coldly esteemed :
with so few of the advantages that generally procure
success in the world, without birth or alliance ; he
had not even the recommendation of a pleasing
appearance, or insinuating address. He was dimin
utive, and somewhat more than high-shouldered ;
the contrast betwixt the wealth of his mind, and the
poverty of his outward appearance, might remind
one of JEsop, or rather of the faithftal though ill-
shaped herald of Ulysses :

6 MEMOIRS
" Erubutes in whose large mind alone,
Ulysses viewed the image of his own."
Thus was it with Colden. Among the number of
governors who succeeded each other in his time,
if by chance one happened to be a man of ability,
he estimated his merit at its just rate ; and what
ever original measure he might find it necessary
to take for the public good, left the common rou
tine of business in the hands of that tried integrity
and experience, in which he found them ; satisfied
with the state and the popularity of governor,
on which the other had not a wish to encroach.
Colden, however, enriched his own family, in a
manner on the whole not objectionable ; he pro
cured from the successive governors various grants
of land, which, though valuable in quality, were
not, from the remoteness of their situation, an
object of desire to settlers ; and purchased grants
from many, who had obtained the property of
them, among which were different governors and
military commanders. He allowed this mine of
future wealth to lie quietly ripening to its value,
till the lands near it were, in process of time,
settled, and it became a desirable object to purchase
or hold on lease.

chapter II
MRS, SCHUYLER'S ARRANGEMENTS AND CON
DUCT AFTER THE COLONEL'S DEATH
THE mind of our good aunt, which had never
before yielded to calamity, seemed alto
gether subdued by the painfiil separation from her
husband. Never having left her consort's bedside,
or known the refreshment of a quiet sleep, during
his illness, she sunk at first into a kind of torpor,
which her friends willingly mistook for the effects
of resignation. This was soon succeeded by the
most acute sorrow, and a dangerous illness, the
consequence of her mental sufferings. In spring
she slowly recovered, and endeavored to find con
solation in returning to the regulation of her
family, and the society of her friends, for both
which she had been for some months disqualified.
Her nieces, the Miss Cuylers, were a great comfort
to her, from their affectionate attention, and the
pleasure she took in seeing them growing up to
be all that her maternal affection could wish. In
the social grief of Pedrom,^ who gave all his time
1 The colonel's brother Peter, so called. — Mrs. Grant. [Query,
Peteroom, Uncle Peter ? His portrait is preserved in the mansion of
Madame Schuyler at the Flats, by Mr. Stephen Schuyler, the recent

8 MEMOIRS OF
to her during the early part of her widowhood, she
also found consolation ; and whenever she was able
to receive them, her friends came from all quarters
to express their sympathy and their respect. The
colonel's heir and her own eldest nephew made,
with one of her nieces, a part of her family ; and
the necessity of attending to such affairs as formerly
lay within the colonel's province, served further to
occupy her mind ; yet her thoughts continually
recurred to that loss, which she daily felt more
and more. She had buried the colonel in a spot
within a short distance of his own house, in which
he had formerly desired to repose ; that his remains
might not quit a scene so dear to him ; and that
the place, rendered sacred by his ashes, might in
future be a common sepulture to his family ; that
he might in death, as in life, be surrounded by
the objects of his affection and beneficence. This
consecrated spot, about the size of a small flower
garden, was enclosed for this purpose, and a tomb
stone, with a suitable inscription erected over the
grave, where this excellent person's relict proposed
her ashes should mingle with his.^ In the mean-
owner and occupant of the premises. The portrait had been artisti
cally copied for the late Gen. John T. Cooper, and was among the rare
objects of art at his residence in Albany].
^ From the second bridge that spans the Erie canal north of the
entrance to the Albany cemetery, on the Watervliet turnpike, a quiet
lane leads to the ancient Schuyler bouwery, known in history as 'The
Flats; and nearly equidistant between the canal and the river, in a
cluster of locust trees, a few rods north of the lane, is the family burial

AN AMERICAN LADY 9
time, though by continually speaking of her de
ceased friend, she passed the day without much
visible agitation, she had fallen into a habit of
vigilance ; rarely sleeping till morning, and suflFer
ing through the silent hours from a periodical
agony, for such it might be called, with which
she was regularly visited. She had a confidante
in this secret suffering ; a decent and pious woman,
who, on the death of her husband, a sergeant in
the army, had been received into this family as
a kind of upper domestic ; and found herself so
happy, and made herself so useful in teaching read
ing and needle-work to the children, that she
still remained. This good woman slept in aunt's
ground. The earliest dead were buried in the church on State Street,
or in the graveyard on Beaver and Hudson Streets, now the site of the
Middle Dutch Church. The Schuylers and Van Rensselaers frequently
intermarried, and several of the former were entombed in the Van Rens
selaer vault. This monument mentioned by Mrs. Grant, and alluded to
on a previous page, is undoubtedly the oldest one in the ground, as well
as the most conspicuous. Madame Schuyler's remains were buried
by the side of those of her husband, but there is no monument or
other object to mark her place of sepulture. The reason assigned
for this neglect is, that she left a portion of her property in such a way
as to give ofFence to some of the heirs, and a question of duty or a
sense of dissatisfaction arising among the parties upon whom it was
incumbent, neither of them would charge them.selves with the under
taking. A large slab lies upon the ground near that of Colonel
Philip, of the same size and material, having a cavity in its upper
side, apparently designed for a metal tablet, which is supposed to have
been abstracted. There is nothing remaining upon it to indicate its
purpose ; but it is traditional that it was not designed for Madame
Schuyler. The slab is now believed to cover the dust of John Schuy
ler, Jr., the father of General Schuyler.

IO MEMOIRS OF
room ; and when all the family were at rest, she
used to accompany her to a small distance from
the tomb which contained those remains so dear
to her. Madame, in the meantime, entered alone
into the hallowed enclosure, and there indulged
her unavailing sorrow. This she continued to do
for some time, as she thought unobserved ; but
being very tall, and become large as she advanced
in life, her figure, arrayed in her night-clothes,
was very conspicuous, and was on different occa
sions observed by neighbors, who occasionally
passed by at night; the consequence was, that it
was rumored that an apparition was seen every
night near the colonel's grave. This came to the
ears of the people of the house, some of whom
had the curiosity to watch at a distance, and saw
the dreaded form appear, and, as they thought,
vanish. This they carefully concealed from their
revered patroness. Every one else in the house,
however, heard it; and a pensive air of awe and
mystery overspread the whole family. Her confi
dante, however, told her of it ; and the consequence
of this improper indulgence of sorrow greatly in
creased the dislike which Madame had always
expressed for mystery and concealment. She was
unwilling to let a family, to whom she had always
set such an example of self-command, know of
her indulging a weakness so unsuitable to her
character and time of life. At the same time,
however, she was resolved not to allow the belief

AN AMERICAN LADY ii
of a supernatural appearance to fasten on their
minds ; unwilling to mention the subject herself,
she was forced to submit to the humiliation of
having it revealed by her confidante, to quiet the
minds of the children and domestics, and reconcile
them to solitude and moonlight.
Her mind was at this time roused from her own
peculiar sorrows, by an alarming event, which dis
turbed the public tranquillity, and awakened the
fears of the whole province, by laying open the
western frontier. This was the taking of Oswego
by the French, which fortress was the only barrier,
except the valor and conduct of Sir William John
son and his Mohawk friends, by which the town
was protected on that side. The poor people, who
were driven by the terror of this event from the
settlements in that quarter, excited the sympathy
of liberal-minded persons : and the interest which
she took in their distresses, was one of the first
things that roused the attention of our good aunt
to her wonted beneficent exertions. General Brad
street, who had a high respect for her understand
ing, and consulted her on all emergencies, had a
profound reverence for the colonel's memory, and
continued his intimacy in the family. The critical
situation of things at this time, occasioned Lord
Loudon to be sent out as commander of the forces
in America. Madame received this nobleman when
he visited Albany, and gave him most useful infor
mation. He was introduced to her by General Brad-

12 MEMOIRS
street, whose power and consequence might be said
to increase with the disasters of the country; his
department was a very lucrative one, and enabled
him first, greatly to enrich himself, and in process
of time, his friend Philip Schuyler, who, from his
deputy, became, in a manner, his coadjutor. Albany
now swarmed with engineers, planners, architects,
and boat-builders. Various military characters, since
highly distinguished, whose names I do not recol
lect, though once familiar to me, obtained introduc
tions to Madame, who began once more to occupy
her mind with public matters, and to open her house
to the more respected and well-known characters
among the military. Her brother-in-law, whom I
have so often mentioned under the affectionate ap
pellation of Pedrom, by which he was known in the
family, being within less than half an hour's walk,
spent much of his time with her, and received her
company. This he was well qualified to do, being a
person of a comely, dignified appearance, and frank,
easy manners, inferior only to his late brother in
depth of reflection, and comprehension of mind.

chapter III
MOHAWK INDIANS — SIR WILLIAM JOHNSON
BY this time matters had gradually assumed a
new aspect on this great continent. The
settlement at Albany was no longer an insulated
region, ruled and defended by the wisdom and
courage diffused through the general mass of the
inhabitants, but begun, in the ordinary course of
things, to incorporate with the general state. The
Mohawk Indians were so engaged by treaties to
assist the army, in its now regular operations to the
westward, that they came less frequently to visit
Albany. A line of forts had, at a prodigious
expense, been erected, leading from Albany to
Upper Canada, by the Mohawk river, and the
lakes of Ontario, Niagara, etc. Many respectable
engineers were engaged in constructing these ; some
of them I remember were Swedes, persons of a
graceful appearance, polished manners, and very
correct conduct. These strangers conducted mat
ters better than our own countrymen ; being more
accommodating in their manners, and better accus
tomed to a severe climate, and inconveniences of
every kind. They were frequent guests at the
Flats, were a pleasing accession to the society, and

14 MEMOIRS OF
performed their duty to the public with a degree
of honor and fidelity that checked abuses in others,
and rescued the service they were engaged in, from
the reproach which it had incurred, in consequence
of those fungi of society which had at first intruded
into it.
By the advice of the Schuylers, there was now
on the Mohawk river a superintendent of Indian
affairs ; the importance of which began to be fully
understood. He was regularly appointed, and
paid by government. This was the justly cele
brated Sir William Johnson,^ who held an office
difficult both to execute and define. He might
indeed be called the tribune of the Five Nations :
whose claims he asserted, whose rights he protected,
and over whose minds he possessed a greater sway
than any other individual had ever attained. He
was indeed calculated to conciliate and retain the
affections of this brave people ; possessing in com
mon with them many of those peculiarities of mind
and manners, that distinguished them from others.
He was an uncommonly tall, well made man : with
a fine countenance ; which, however, had rather an
expression of dignified sedateness, approaching to
melancholy. He appeared to be taciturn, never
wasting words on matters of no importance : but
highly eloquent when the occasion called forth his
powers. He possessed intuitive sagacity, and the
1 See "Life and Times of Sir William Johnson, Baronet," 2 vols,,
8vo, by William L. Stone, 1864.

AN AMERICAN LADY 15
most entire command of temper, and of counte
nance. He did by no means lose sight of his own
interest, but on the contrary raised himself to
power and wealth, in an open and active manner ;
not disdaining any honorable means of benefiting
himself: but at the same time the bad policy, as
well as meanness of sacrificing respectability, to
snatching at petty present advantages, were so
obvious to him, that he laid the foundation of his
future prosperity on the broad and deep basis of
honorable dealing, accompanied by the most vigi
lant attention to the objects he had in view ; acting
so as, without the least departure from integrity on
the one hand, or inattention to his affairs on the
other, to conduct himself in such a manner, as
gave an air of magnanimity to his character, that
made him the object of universal confidence. He
purchased from the Indians (having the grant con
firmed by his sovereign) a large and fertile tract of
land upon the Mohawk river ; where, having cleared
and cultivated the ground, he built two spacious
and convenient places of residence : known after
wards by the names of Johnson castle, and Johnson
hall. The first was on a fine eminence, stockaded
round, and slightly fortified ; the last was built
on the side of the river, on a most fertile and de
lightful plain, surrounded with an ample and well
cultivated domain : and that again encircled by Euro
pean settlers ; who had first come there as architects,
or workmen, and had been induced by Sir William's

i6 MEMOIRS OF
liberality, and the singular beauty of the district, to
continue. His trade with the Five Nations was
very much for their advantage ; he supplying them
on more equitable terms than any trader, and not
indulging the excesses in regard to strong liquors
which others were too easily induced to do. The
castle contained the store in which all goods were
laid up, which were meant for the Indian traffic,
and all the peltry received in exchange. The hall
was his summer residence, and the place round
which his greatest improvements were made. Here
this singular man lived like a little sovereign ; kept
an excellent table for strangers, and officers, whom
the course of their duty now frequently led into
these wilds, and by confiding entirely on the Indians,
and treating them with unvaried truth and justice,
without ever yielding to solicitation what he had
once refused, he taught them to repose entire con
fidence in him ; he, in his turn became attached to
them, wore in winter almost entirely their dress
and ornaments, and contracted a kind of alliance
with them; for becoming a widower in the prime
of life, he connected himself with an Indian maiden,
daughter to a sachem, who possessed an uncom
monly agreeable person, and good understanding:
and whether ever formally married to him accord
ing to our usage, or not, contrived to live with him
in great union and affection all his life. So perfect
was his dependence on those people, whom his
fortitude and other manly virtues had attached to

AN AMERICAN LADY 17
him, that when they returned from their summer
excursions, and exchanged the last year's furs for
fire-arms, etc., they used to pass a few days at the
castle ; when his family and most of his domestics
were down at the hall. There they were all liber
ally entertained by their friend ; and five hundred
of them have been known, for nights together,
after drinking pretty freely, to lie around him on
the floor, while he was the only white person in a
house containing great quantities of everything that
was to them valuable or desirable. While Sir
William thus united in his mode of life, the calm
urbanity of a liberal and extensive trader, with the
splendid hospitality, the numerous attendance, and
the plain though dignified manners of an ancient
baron, the female part of his family were educated
in a manner so entirely dissimilar from that of all
other young people of their sex and station, that as
a matter of curiosity, it is worthy a recital. These
two young ladies inherited, in a great measure, the
personal advantages and strength of understanding,
for which their father was so distinguished. Their
mother dying when they were young, bequeathed
the care of them to a friend. This friend was the
widow of an officer who had fallen in battle ; I am
not sure whether she was devout, and shunned the
world for fear of its pollutions, or romantic, and
despised its selfish bustling spirit ; but so it was,
that she seemed utterly to forget it, and devoted
herself to her fair pupils. To these she taught
VOL. II. — 2

i8 MEMOIRS OF
needle-work of the most elegant and ingenious
kinds, reading and writing ; thus quietly passed their
childhood ; their monitress not taking the smallest
concern in family management, nor indeed the least
interest in any worldly thing but themselves ; far
less did she inquire about the fashions or diversions
which prevailed in a world she had renounced ;
and from which she seemed to wish her pupils to
remain for ever estranged. Never was anything so
uniform as their dress ; their occupations, and the
general tenor of their lives. In the morning they
rose early, read their Prayer-Book, I believe, but
certainly their Bible, fed their birds, tended their
flowers, and breakfasted ; then were employed some
hours with unwearied perseverance, at fine needle
work, for the ornamental parts of dress, which were
the fashion of the day, without knowing to what
use they were to be put, as they never wore them ;
and had not at the age of sixteen ever seen a lady,
excepting each other and their governess ; they
then read, as long as they chose, the voluminous
romances of the last century ; of which their friend
had an ample collection, or Rollin's ancient history,
the only books they had ever seen ; after dinner
they, regularly in summer, took a long walk ; or
an excursion in the sledge, in winter, with their
friend : and then returned and resumed their wonted
occupations, with the sole variation of a stroll in
the garden in summer, and a game at chess, or
shuttlecock, in winter. Their dress was to the

AN AMERICAN LADY

19

full as simple and uniform as everything else ; they
wore wrappers of the finest chintz, and green silk
petticoats ; and this the whole year round without
variation. Their hair, which was long and beauti
ful, was tied behind with a simple ribbon ; a large
calash shaded each from the sun, and in winter they
had long scarlet mantles that covered them from
head to foot. Their father did not live with them,
but visited them every day in their apartment.
This innocent and uniform life they led, till the
death of their monitress ; which happened when
the eldest was not quite seventeen. On some
future occasion I shall satisfy the curiosity which
this short but faithful account of these amiable
recluses has possibly excited.^
1 These ladies married officers, who in succession lived as aid-de
camps with their father. Their manners soon grew easy ; they readily
acquired the habits of society, and made excellent wives. — Mrs. Grant.

Chapter IV
GENERAL ABERCROMBIE — DEATH OF
LORD HOWE
IMUST now return to Albany, and to the pro
jected expedition.
General Abercrombie, who commanded on the
northern lakes, was a brave and able man, though
rather too much attached to the military schools of
those days, to accommodate himself to the desultory
and uncertain warfare of the woods, where sagacity,
ready presence of mind, joined with the utmost
caution, and condescension of opinion to our Indian
allies, was of infinitely more consequence than rules
and tactics, which were mere shackles and incum
brances in this contention, with difficulties and per
plexities more harassing than mere danger. Indeed
when an ambuscade or sudden onset was followed
by defeat, here (as in Braddock's case) the result
reminded one of the rout of Absalom's army;
where, we are told, the wood devoured more than
the sword. The general was a frequent guest with
Madame, when the nature of his command would
permit him to relax from the duties that occupied
him. He had his men encamped below Albany,
in that great field which I have formerly described.

AN AMERICAN LADY 21
as the common pasture for the town. Many of
the officers were quartered in the fort and town ;
but Lord Howe always lay in his tent, with the
regiment which he commanded ; and which he
modelled in such a manner, that they were ever
after considered as an example to the whole Ameri
can army ; who gloried in adopting all those rigid,
yet salutary regulations, to which this young hero
readily submitted, to enforce his commands by his
example. Above the pedantry of holding up standards of
military rules, where it was impossible to practise
them, and the narrow spirit of preferring the modes
of his own country to those proved by experience
to suit that in which he was to act, Lord Howe
laid aside all pride and prejudice, and gratefully
accepted counsel from those whom he knew to be
best qualified to direct them. Madame was de
lighted with the calm steadiness with which he
carried through the austere rules which he found
it necessary to lay down. In the first place he for
bade all displays of gold and scarlet, in the rugged
march they were about to undertake, and set the
example by wearing himself an ammunition coat,
that is to say, one of the surplus soldier's coats cut
short. This was a necessary precaution; because
in the woods, the hostile Indians, who started from
behind the trees, usually caught at the long and
heavy skirts then worn by the soldiers ; and for the
same reason he ordered the muskets to be short-

22 MEMOIRS OF
ened, that they might not, as on former occasions,
be snatched from behind by these agile foes. To
prevent the march of his regiment from being
descried at a distance, by the glittering of their
arms, the barrels of their guns were all blackened ;
and to save them from the tearing of bushes, the
stings of insects, etc., he set them the example of
wearing leggins, a kind of buskin made of strong
woolen cloth, formerly described as a part of the
Indian dress. The greatest privation to the young
and vain yet remained. Hair well dressed, and in
great quantity, was then considered as the greatest
possible ornament, which those who had it took the
utmost care to display to advantage, and to wear in
a bag or a queue, which ever they fancied. Lord
Howe's was fine, and very abundant; he, however,
cropped it, and ordered every one else to do the
same. Every morning he rose very early, and after
giving his orders, rode out to the Flats, breakfasted,
and spent some time in conversing with his friends
there ; and when in Albany, received all manner of
useful information from the worthy magistrate Cor
nelius Cuyler. Another point which this young
Lycurgus of the camp wished to establish, was that
of not carrying anything that was not absolutely
necessary. An apparatus of tables, chairs, and such
other luggage he thought highly absurd, where
people had to force their way with unspeakable
difficulty, to encounter an enemy free from all such
incumbrances. The French had long learnt how

AN AMERICAN LADY

23

little convenience could be studied on such occasions
as the present.
When his lordship got matters arranged to his
satisfaction, he invited his officers to dine with him
in his tent. They gladly assembled at the hour
appointed but were surprised to see no chairs or
tables ; there were, however, bear-skins, spread like
a carpet. His lordship welcomed them, and sat
down on a small log of wood ; they followed his
example ; and presently the servants set down a
large dish of pork and pease. His lordship, taking
a sheath from his pocket, out of which he produced
a knife and fork, began to cut and divide the meat.
They sat in a kind of awkward suspense, which he
interrupted, by asking if it were possible that sol
diers like them, who had been so long destined for
such a service, should not be provided with portable
implements of this kind ; and finally relieved them
from their embarrassment, by distributing to each a
case the same as his own, which he had provided
for that purpose. The austere regulations, and
constant self-denial which he imposed upon the
troops he commanded, were patiently borne, be
cause he was not only gentle in his manners, but
generous and humane in a very high degree, and
exceedingly attentive to the health and real necessi
ties of the soldiery. Among many instances of
this, a quantity of powdered ginger was given to
every man ; and the sergeants were ordered to see,
that when, in the course of marching, the soldiers

24 MEMOIRS OF
arrived hot and tired at the banks of any stream,
they should not be permitted to stoop to drink, as
they generally inclined to do, but obliged to lift
water in their canteens, and mix ginger with it.
This became afterwards a general practice ; and in
those aguish swamps, through which the troops
were forced to march, was the means of saving
many lives. Aunt Schuyler, as this amiable young
officer familiarly styled his maternal friend, had the
utmost esteem for him ; and the greatest hope that
he would at some future period redress all those
evils that had formerly impeded the service ; and
perhaps plant the British standard on the walls of
Quebec. But this honor another young hero was
destined to achieve ; whose virtues were to be illus
trated by the splendor of victory, the only light by
which the multitude can see the merits of a soldier.
The Schuylers regarded this expedition with a
mixture of doubt and misery, knowing too well,
from the sad retrospect of former failures, how little
valor and discipline availed where regular troops
had to encounter with unseen foes, and with diffi
culties arising from the nature of the ground, for
which military science afforded no remedy. Of
General Abercrombie's worth and valor they had
the highest opinion ; but they had no opinion of
attacking an enemy so subtle and experienced on
their own ground, in entrenchments, and this they
feared he would have the temerity to attempt. In
the meantime preparations were making for the

The Vanderhuyden Palace, erected on North Pearl Sr

REET IN 1725

AN AMERICAN LADY 25
attempt. The troops were marched in detachments
past the Flats, and each detachment quartered for
a night on the common, or in the offices. One of
the first of these was commanded by Lee, of frantic
celebrity, who afterwards, in the American war,
joined the opponents of government, and was then
a captain in the British service. Captain Lee had
neglected to bring the customary warrants for im
pressing horses and oxen, and procuring a supply
of various necessaries, to be paid for by the agents
of government on showing the usual documents ;
he, however, seized everything he wanted where he
could most readily find it, as if he were in a con
quered country ; and not content with his violence,
poured forth a volley of execrations on those who
presumed to question his right of appropriating for
his troops everything that could be serviceable to
them : even Madame, accustomed to universal re
spect, and to be considered as the friend and bene
factress of the army, was not spared ; and the aids
which she never failed to bestow on those whom
she saw about to expose their lives for the general
defence, were rudely demanded, or violently seized.
Never did the genuine Christianity of this exalted
character shine more brightly than in this exigency ;
her countenance never altered, and she used every
argument to restrain the rage of her domestics, and
the clamor of her neighbors, who were treated in
the same manner. Lee marched on, after having
done all the mischief in his power, and was the next

26 MEMOIRS OF
day succeeded by Lord Howe, who was indignant
on hearing what had happened, and astonished at
the calmness with which Madame bore the treat
ment she had received. She soothed him by telling
him, that she knew too well the value of protection
from a danger so imminent, to grow captious with
her deliverers on account of a single instance of
irregularity, and only regretted that they should
have deprived her of her wonted pleasure, in freely
bestowing whatever could advance the service, or
refresh the exhausted troops. They had a long and
very serious conversation that night. In the morn
ing his lordship proposed setting out very early;
but when he rose was astonished to find Madame
waiting, and breakfast ready ; he smiled and said
he would not disappoint her, as it was hard to say
when he might again breakfast with a lady. Im
pressed with an unaccountable degree of concern
about the fate of the enterprise in which he was
embarked, she again repeated her counsels and her
cautions ; and when he was about to depart, em
braced him with the affection of a mother, and shed
many tears, a weakness which she did not often
give way to.
Meantime, the best prepared and disciplined body
of forces that had ever been assembled in America,
were proceeding on an enterprise, that, to the ex
perience and sagacity of the Schuylers, appeared a
hopeless, or, at least, a very desperate one. A gen
eral gloom overspread the family ; this, at all times

AN AMERICAN LADY 27
large, was now augmented by several of the relations
both of the colonel and Madame, who had visited
them at that time, to be nearer the scene of action,
and get the readiest and most authentic intelligence ;
for the apprehended consequence of a defeat was,
the pouring in of the French troops into the in
terior of the province ; in which case Albany might
be abandoned to the enraged savages attending the
French army.
In the afternoon a man was seen coming on
horseback from the north, galloping violently, with
out his hat. Pedrom, as he was familiarly called,
the colonel's only surviving brother, was with her,
and ran instantly to inquire, well knowing he rode
express. The man galloped on, crying out that
Lord Howe was killed. The mind of our good
aunt had been so engrossed by her anxiety and fears
for the event impending, and so impressed by the
merit and magnanimity of her favorite hero, that
her wonted firmness sunk under this stroke, and
she broke out into bitter lamentations. This had
such an effect on her friends and domestics, that
shrieks and sobs of anguish echoed through every
part of the house. Even those who were too young
or too old to enter into the public calamity, were
affected by the violent grief of aunt, who, in general,
had too much self-command to let others witness
her sorrows. Lord Howe was shot from behind a
tree, probably by some Indian : and the whole army
were inconsolable for a loss they too well knew to

28 MEMOIRS
be irreparable. This stroke, however, they soon
found to be "portent and pain, a menace and a
blow ; " but this dark prospect was cheered for a
moment by a deceitful gleam of hope, which only
added to the bitterness of disappointment.

chapter V
DEFEAT AT TICONDEROGA — GENERAL LEE —
HUMANITY OF MADAME
THE next day they heard the particulars of
the skirmish, for it could scarce be called
a regular engagement, which had proved fatal to
the young warrior, whose loss was so deeply felt.
The army had crossed Lake George, in safety,
on the 5th of July, and landed without opposition.
They proceeded in four columns to Ticonderoga,
and displayed a spectacle unprecedented in the New
World. An army of sixteen thousand men, regu
lars and provincials, with a train of artillery, and
all the necessary provisions for an active campaign
or regular siege, followed by a little fleet of bateaux,
pontoons, etc. They set out wrong, however, by
not having Indian guides, who are alone to be
depended on in such a place. In a short time the
columns fell in upon each other, and occasioned
much confusion. While they marched on in this
bewildered manner, the advanced guard of the
French which had retired before them, were equally
bewildered, and falling in with them in this confu
sion, a skirmish ensued, in which the French lost
above three hundred men, and we, though sucess-

30 MEMOIRS OF
ful, lost as much as it was possible to lose, in one ;
for here it was that Lord Howe fell.
The fort is in a situation of peculiar natural
strength ; it lies on a little peninsular, with Lake
George on one side, and a narrow opening, com
municating with Lake Champlain, on the other.
It is surrounded by water on three sides ; and in
front there is a swamp, very easily defended; and
where it ceased the French had made a breast-work
above eight feet high ; not content with this, they
had felled immense trees on the spot, and laid them
heaped on each other, with their branches outward,
before their works. In fine, there was no place
on earth where aggression was so difficult, and
defence so easy, as in these woods ; especially
when, as in this case, the party to be attacked had
great leisure to prepare their defence. On this
impenetrable front they had also a line of cannon
mounted ; while the difficulty of bringing artillery
through this swampy ground, near enough to bear
upon the place, was unspeakable. This garrison,
almost impregnable from situation, was defended
by between four and five thousand men. An engi
neer, sent to reconnoitre, was of opinion that it
might be attacked without waiting for the artillery.
The fatal resolution was taken without consulting
those who were best qualified to judge. An Indian
or native American were here better skilled in the
nature of the ground, and probabilities of success.
They knew better, in short, what the spade, hatchet,

AN AMERICAN LADY 31
or musket could or could not do, in such situations,
than the most skillful veteran from Europe, how
ever replete with military science. Indeed, when
system usurps the province of plain sound sense
in unknown exigencies, the result is seldom favor
able ; and this truth was never more fatally demon
strated than in the course of the American war,
where an obstinate adherence to regular tactics,
which do not bend to time or place, occasioned,
from first to last, an incalculable waste of blood,
of treasure, and of personal courage. The reso
lution then was to attack the enemy without loss
of time, and even without waiting for artillery.
Alas ! " What have not Britons dared ? "
I cannot enter into the dreadful detail of what
followed ; certainly never was infatuation equal
to this. The forty-second regiment was then in
the height of deserved reputation ; in which there
was not a private man that did not consider him
self as rather above the lower class of people,
and peculiarly bound to support the honor of the
very singular corps to which he belonged. This
brave hard-fated regiment was then commanded
by a veteran of great experience and miHtary skill.
Colonel Gordon Graham,^ who had the first point

1 Gordon Graham, of Dranie, entered the Black Watch as ensign
25 October, 1739 ; was promoted to lieutenant 24 June, 1743 ; served
in Flanders and Fontenoy, 1745 ; obtained a company, 1747 ; was at
the surrender of Fort Williara Henry, 1757, and wounded at Ticon
deroga 8 July, 1758, On the death of Major Duncan Campbell, he

32 MEMOIRS OF
of attack assigned to him : he was wounded at the
first onset. How many this regiment, in particular,
lost of men and officers, I cannot now exactly say ;
but these were very many. What I distinctly
remember, having often heard of it since, is, that, of
the survivors, every single officer retired wounded
off the field. Of the fifty-fifth regiment, to which
my father had newly been attached, ten officers
were killed, including all the field officers. No
human beings could show more determined courage
than this brave army did. Standing four hours
under a constant discharge of cannon and musketry
from barricades, on which it was impossible for
them to make the least impression. General Aber
crombie saw the fruitless waste of blood that was
every hour increasing, and ordered a retreat, which
was very precipitate, so much so, that they crossed
the lake and regained their camp on the other side
the same night. Two thousand men were killed,
wounded, or taken on this disastrous day. On
the next, those most dangerously wounded were
sent forward in boats, and reached the Flats before
evening; they in a manner brought (at least con
firmed) the news of the defeat. Madame had
her barn instantly fitted up into a temporary hos
pital, and a room in her house allotted for the
succeeded to his commission and made the campaign of 1759, '60
under Amherst ; served in the West Indies in 1762, when he became
lieutenant-colonel of his regiment. He retired from the service
12 December, 1770 {Col. Doc, *, 728).

AN AMERICAN LADY 33
surgeon who attended the patients ; among these
was Lee, the same insolent and rapacious Lee, who
had insulted this general benefactress, and deprived
her of one of her greatest pleasures, that of giv
ing a share of everything she had to advance
the service. She treated him with compassion,
without adverting, by the least hint, to the past.
She tore up her sheets and table linen for bandages,
and she and her nieces were constantly employed
in attending and cheering the wounded, while all
her domestics were busied in preparing food and
everything necessary for those unhappy sufferers.
Even Lee felt and acknowledged the resistless force
of such generous humanity. He swore, in his
vehement manner, that he was sure there would
be a place reserved for Madame in heaven, though
no other woman should be there, and that he
should wish for nothing better than to share her
final destiny. The active industrious beneficence
she exercised at this time, not only towards the
wounded, but the wretched widows and orphans
who had remained here, and had lost their all
in their husbands and parents, was beyond praise.
Could I clearly recollect and arrange the anecdotes
of this period, as I have often heard them, they
would of themselves fill a volume ; suffice it, that
such was the veneration in which she was held
in the army after this period, that I recollect,
amongst the earliest impressions received in my
mind, that of a profound reverence for Madame
VOL. II. — 3

34 MEMOIRS
as these people were wont to call her. Before
I ever saw her, I used to think of her as a most
august personage, of a majestic presence, sitting on
an elevated seat, and scattering bounty to wounded
soldiers, and poor women and children.

Chapter VI

THE FAMILY OF MADAME'S SISTER — THE
DEATH OF THE LATTER
AUNT found consolation for all her sorrows in
the family of her favorite sister. The prom
ise of uncommon merit, which appeared in the ris
ing branches of that singularly fine family, was to
her a peculiar gratification ; for no mother could
love her own children more tenderly than she did
them. The two daughters, which were amongst
the eldest, passed, by turns, much of their time
with her, and were, from their beauty and their
manners, the ornaments of her society ; while their
good sense, ripened by being called early into action,
made these amiable and elegant young women more
a comfort and assistance than a care or charge to
their aunt, at a very early period. They had four
brothers ; three of whom are still living, and have,
through life, done honor by their virtues, their
manners, and their conduct, in the most trying
exigencies, to the memory and example of their
excellent parents, as well as to that collateral school
of pure morality, and sound and genuine policy, of
which they shared the benefit.
The history of this family, in the after vicissi
tudes in which the political changes in their country

36 MEMOIRS OF
involved them, would furnish a very interesting
detail, were it allowable to oflfend the delicacy of
modest worth, or eligible to expose the depravity
and fury of enraged factions. Of the brothers I
shall only mention, that the third, in his childhood,
showed uncommon fire and vivacity ; not seeming
to retain the smallest portion of that hereditary
phlegm which could still be easily traced through
many of the settlers of this peculiar colony. He
could scarce be called an unlucky boy, for he never
did harm designedly ; yet he was so volatile, eccen
tric and original in the frolicsome excursions of his
fancy, that many ludicrous and some serious con
sequences resulted from them. He showed, how
ever, amidst all these gaieties, from a very early
age, a steady and determined predilection towards a
military life, which in due time was indulged, and
has been since the means of leading him on to rank
and distinction in the British service.-^ Of the eld
est brother I shall have occasion to speak hereafter ;
the second and youngest were zealous partisans of
government at the time of the revolution. Their
loyalty occasioned the loss of their fortunes and
their homes ; but their worth and bravery procured
them confidence and important commands in that
painful service which was carried on during the
American war, at the end of which they were par-
^ The capture of Tobago was achieved by General Cuyler, who had
for near forty years been engaged in the most active and hazardous
departments of the service. — Mrs. Grant.

AN AMERICAN LADY 37
tially rewarded by grants of land in upper Canada.*
Loyalty and courage seem hereditary in this family.
Many sons of those expatriated brothers are now
serving their country in different parts of the em
pire, undeterred by the losses and sufferings of their
parents in the royal cause. It was a marked dis
tinction of character to be observed in the conduct
of aunt's proteges, that though she was equally at
tached to the children of her husband's relations
and her own, these latter only adopted her pohtical
sentiments, with a single exception, which shall be
mentioned in its place.
The defeat at Ticonderoga bore very hard upon
the mind of Madame ; public spirit was always an
active principle in her strong and reflecting mind ;
and from the particular circumstances in which she
had always been involved, her patriotism gained
strength by exercise. The same ardent concern
for the public good, which could produce no other
effect but fruitless anxiety, would be as unavailing
as unnecessary, in our secure and tranquil state ;
but with her it was an exercised and useful virtue.
Her attachment to the British nation, which was to
1 Cornelius Cuyler, Jr., entered the British army and rose to the
rank of major-general ; and for distinguished services he was created
a baronet. Several of his descendants have been prominent in military
and civil life, and some are now in the army. Abraham C. Cuyler
was Mayor of Albany 1770-77 ; but towards the close ofthe Revolu
tionary War he emigrated to Canada, where he died in 1810. Philip
Cuyler, the eldest ofthe three brothers, adhered to the patriot cause,
and remained in the country of his birth.

38 MEMOIRS OF
the very last a ruling principle both of her actions
and opinions, contributed to embitter this blow to
her and her family. The taking of Frontenac on
the western lakes, and the re-establishment of our
power in that important quarter, were achieved by
General Bradstreet, whom Abercrombie dispatched
at the head of three thousand provincials. This
was a cordial much wanted by all, and more par
ticularly gratifying to the family at the Flats, as the
colonel's nephew, Philip Schuyler, though his was
not exactly a warlike department, had evinced much
spirit, prudence, and resolution during that expe
dition ; in which, without publicly arrogating com
mand, he, under Bradstreet (who was indeed a very
able man), directed most of the operations. In the
mind of this extraordinary person, qualities, suited
to all occasions, lay dormant and unsuspected, till
called forth by the varying events of his busy
though not bustling life ; for he seemed to carry
on the plans, public and private, which he executed
with superior ability and success, by mere volition.
No one ever saw him appear hurried, embarrassed,
or agitated. The success of this expedition, and
the rising distinction of her nephew Philip, was
some consolation to Madame for the late disaster.
Still friendly and hospitable, she was as kindly dis
posed towards the British as ever, and as indefati
gable in promoting a good understanding between
them and the natives ; but the army was now on a
larger scale. It was in a manner regularly organ-

AN AMERICAN LADY 39
ized, and more independent of such aid as individu
als could bestow ; and the many children educated
by her, or left orphans to her care, became from
their number, their marriages, and various pursuits,
objects of more earnest solicitude.
At this period Aunt Schuyler, now everywhere
spoken of by that affectionate designation, met with
a severe affliction in the death ofa sister, ^ whom she
had always loved with more than common tender
ness, and whose family she considered in a manner
as her own. This was Mrs, Cuyler, the wife of
that able and upright magistrate, Cornelius Cuyler,
of whose family I have just been giving some ac
count. Mrs, Cuyler, with a character more gentle
and retiring, possessed the good sense and benevo
lence for which aunt was distinguished, though her
sphere of action being entirely within the limits of
her own family, she could not be so well known, or
so much celebrated. The colonel had always had a
great attachment to this valuable person ; which
still more endeared her to his widow. She, how
ever, always found new duties resulting from her
afflictions, so that she could not afford to sink
under them. She now was at pains to console her
sister's husband, who really seemed borne down by
this stroke ; and the exertions she made for the
good of his singularly promising family, kept her
mind occupied. 1 Mrs. Cornelius Cuyler died February 21, 1758.

Chapter VII
FURTHER SUCCESS OF THE BRITISH ARMS —
A MISSIONARY— CORTLANDT SCHUYLER
THE conquest of Oswego, which was this year
(1759) retaken from the French by General
Bradstreet, contributed to revive the drooping spirits
of the army and the patriots ; and it was quickly
succeeded by the dear-bought conquest of Quebec.
Though Madame had never seen General Wolfe,
she shared the general admiration of his heroism,
and the general sorrow for his loss, in a very high
degree. She, too, was conscious, that the security
and tranquillity purchased by the conquest of Que
bec, would, in a manner, loosen the bonds which
held the colonists attached to a government which
they only endured while they required its protection.
This led to consequences which she too clearly fore
saw. The mind of Mrs. Schuyler, which had been
greatly agitated by the sad events of Ticonderoga,
now began, in consequence of the successes, to
become more composed, and turn itself to objects
of utility, as formerly. What she had done, and
made others do, for the orphans and widows that

AN AMERICAN LADY 41
had become such in consequence of the attack on
the lines, could scarce be credited. No one would
suppose a moderate fortune like hers could pos
sibly be equal to it. She had at this time, too,
much satisfaction in seeing the respective churches
(in all which she was deeply interested), filled with
persons who did honor to their profession. A
young clergyman named Westerlo,^ succeeded Dom
ine Frielinghuysen, after an interval of three or
four years, during which the charge was irregularly
filled. This young man had learning, talent, and
urbanity ; he had all the sanctity of life and ani
mated eloquence of his predecessor without his love
of power, his bustling turn, or his eagerness for
popularity ; he was indeed a person of very singular
merit, but studious and secluded, and unwilling to
mix with strangers. To Madame, however, he was
open and companionable, and knew and valued the
attractions of her conversation. Dr. Ogilvie was
the English Episcopal minister, who, under the
1 Rev. Eilardus Westerlo was born in Groeningen in 1738, and
received a thorough university education. It was still a custom with
the American churches to send to Holland for rainisters to supply
their pulpits. He arrived in August, 1760, less than a year after
Dom. Frielinghuysen left, and died 26 December, 1790, aged 53.
He took a conspicuous part in severing the church frora its dependence
upon the mother country, and its reorganization upon the present plan.
He took strong ground in favor of the cause of the Revolution, and at
a most critical time when Burgoyne was advancing upon the city, he
animated and inspired the people by having his church open daily for
prayer and address. He left in manuscript a Hebrew and Greek
lexicon in 2 vols., folio, which is preserved In the State Library at
Albany.

42 MEMOIRS OF
name of Indian missionary, and with a salary al
lowed him as such, had the charge of performing
duty in a church erected for that purpose in town,
to strangers, and such of the military as chose to
attend. The Christian Indians, who were his par
ticular charge, lived at too great a distance to benefit
by his labors. The province, however, allowed a
salary to a zealous preacher, who labored among
them with apostolic fervor, and with the same dis
regard to the things of this world. Dr. Ogilvie^
was highly respected, and indeed much beloved by
all who were capable of appreciating his merit.
His appearance was singularly prepossessing ; his
address and manners entirely those of a gentleman.
His abilities were respectable, his doctrine was pure
and scriptural, and his life exemplary, both as a
clergyman and in his domestic circle, where he was
peculiarly amiable ; add to all this a talent for con
versation, extensive reading, and a thorough knowl-
1 John OgUvIe was a native of New York. He was ostensibly an
Indian missionary in the Mohawk valley, although he preached mostly
at St. Peter' s Episcopal Church in Albany, from his graduation at Yale
College in 1748 until 1765, having been appointed to this mission on
account of his being a Dutch scholar. In 1760 he joined the expedi
tion against Niagara, and continued attached to the army until the
close of the French war. After leaving Albany he was an assistant
minister at Trinity Church in New York and a professor In Columbia
College. On the death of Rev. Dr. Barclay in 1754, who had under
taken the supervision of the Book of Comraon Prayer In the Indian
tongue, the work was continued by Dr. Ogilvie, who was also familiar
with the language. The work seems to have been finished by him in
1769. He died 26 November, 1774, aged 51, leaving among other
benefactions ^300 to a charity school.

AN AMERICAN LADY

43

edge of life. The doctor was indeed a man after
Madame's own heart; and she never ceased regret
ting his departure to New York, where he was
settled two years after. For Stuart^ she had the
utmost veneration. Perfectly calculated for his
austere and uncourtly duties, he was wholly de
voted to them, and scarce cast a look back to that
world which he had forsaken. Yet he was, on
various accounts, highly valued by Madame ; for
since the appointment of the superintendent, and
more particularly since the death of the colonel, he
became more important to her, as the link which
held her to the Mohawks, whom she now saw so
much more seldom, but always continued to love.
The comprehension of her mind was so great, and
her desire for knowledge so strong, that she found
much entertainment in tracing the unfoldings of the
human mind in its native state, and the gradual
progress of intellect when enlightened by the gentle
influence of pure religion ; and this good Father of
the deserts gratified her more by the details he was
enabled to give of the progress of devotion and of
mind among his little flock, than he could have
done by all that learning or knowledge of the world
1 A pious missionary in the Mohawk country. — Mrs. Grant.
[John Stuart, D.D., styled the father of the Episcopal Church In Upper
Canada (See JV. Y. Doc. Hist., iii, 1063), was the only Episcopal
missionary among the Indians throughout the whole confederacy,
which, we are informed by Sir Guy Johnson, "afforded an oppor
tunity for introducing New England missionaries who diffused their
evil principles with their religion !" {Col. Doc, vm., 657).

44 MEMOIRS OF
can bestow. Again the Flats began to be the re
sort of the best society. She had also her nephews
in succession ; one, a brother of that Philip so often
mentioned, since better known to the world by the
appellation of General Schuyler, had been long about
the family. He was a youth distinguished for the
gracefulness of his person, and the symmetry of his
features. He was a perfect model of manly beauty,
though almost as dark as an Indian. Indeed, both
in looks and character, he greatly resembled the
aborigines of the country. He seemed perfectly
unconscious of the extraordinary personal advan
tages which be possessed ; was brave, honorable, and
possessed a very good understanding, but collected
within himself; silent, yet eloquent when he chose
to interest himself, or was warmed by the occasion ;
and had such stainless probity, that every one re
spected and trusted him. Yet he was so very indif
ferent to the ordinary pleasures and pursuits of life,
and so entirely devoted to the sports of the field,
that when his aunt afterwards procured him a com
mission in a marching regiment, hoping thus to
tame and brighten him, he was known in Ireland
by the name of the handsome savage. This title
did not belong to him in the sense we most often
use it in ; for his manners were not rude and harsh
in the least, though an air of cold austerity, which
shaded his fine countenance, with his delight in
solitary amusements, led the gay and social inhabit
ants of the country in which he resided, to consider

General Philip Schui-ler's Residence, built in 1760-61

AN AMERICAN LADY 45
him as unwillingly rescued from his native forests.^
This youth was named Cortlandt, and will be more
particularly mentioned hereafter. That eccentric
and frolicsome boy, whose humorous sallies and
playful flights were a continual source of amuse
ment, was also a frequent guest, but did not stay so
long as his elder brother, who certainly was, of all
aunt's adopted, the greatest favorite, and became
more endeared to her, from being less successful in
life than the rest of his family.
In a council held between their relations and
Madame, it was decided that both Cortlandt and
Cornelius should try their fortune in arms. Cort
landt was made an ensign in an old regiment, and
went over to Ireland. Cornelius, a year after, got
a commission in the 55th, then commanded by that
singularly worthy and benevolent character Sir
Adolphus Oughton. The mayor was highly re
spected for his wisdom ; yet his purchasing a com
mission for so mere a boy, and laying out for it a
sum of money which appeared large in a country
where people contrived to do very well with won
derfully little of that article, astonished all his coun
trymen. Conscious, however, of his son's military
genius, and well knowing that the vivacity that filled
his grave kinsmen with apprehension, was merely a
lambent flame of youthful gaiety, which would
blaze without scorching, he fearlessly launched him
1 Capt. Cortlandt Schuyler returned from Ireland with his family
in 1764, having resigned his comraission.

46 MEMOIRS
into a profession in which he hoped to see him
attain merited distinction. While the excellent
patroness of all these young people had the satis
faction of seeing every one brought up under her
auspices (and, by this time, they were not a few),
do honor to her instructions, and fill up their differ
ent stations in a manner the most creditable and
prosperous ; and she was often surrounded by the
children of those who had engaged her earliest
cares.

Chapter VIII
BURNING OF THE HOUSE AT THE FLATS —
MADAME'S REMOVAL — JOURNEY OF THE
AUTHOR
IT was at this time, when she was in the very
acme of her reputation, and her name never
mentioned without some added epithet of respect
or affection, that her house, so long the receptacle
of all that was good or intelligent, and the asylum
of all that was helpless and unfortunate, was entirely
consumed before her eyes.
In the summer of this year, as General Bradstreet
was riding by the Flats one day, and proposing to
call on Madame, he saw her sitting in a great chair
under the little avenue of cherry trees that led from
her house to the road. All the way as he ap
proached he saw smoke, and at last flames, burst
ing out from the top of her house. He was afraid
to alarm her suddenly; but when he told her, she
heard it with the utmost composure ; pointed out
the likeliest means to check the fire ; and ordered
the neighbors to be summoned, and the most valua
ble goods first removed, without ever attempting
to go over the house herself, when she knew she
could be of no service ; but with the most admirable

48 MEMOIRS OF
presence of mind, she sat still with a placid coun-
tenance, regulating and ordering everything in the
most judicious manner, and with as much compos-

Madame Schuyler House at the Flats.
ure as if she had nothing to lose.^ When evening
came, of that once happy mansion not a single
1 The house of Madarae Schuyler was burnt In 1763. Her father
in 1680, carae in possession of two houses on the south-east comer of
State and Pearl Streets in the city of Albany, one of which stood until
recently, the other having been removed to widen Pearl Street. In one
of these houses Madame Schuyler lived while her house at the Flats
was in process of rebuilding. The house now occupied by the widow
and daughter of Mr. Richard Schuyler Is known to have been built
upon the foundation of the old one, and of the same diraensions and
style of architecture. That portion of the wall of the bumt house,
forming the north-west corner, is still discernible in the present
structure, of which an engraving Is here presented. The house stands
a few rods from the river bank, facing the east, and has the same
aspect as when built more than a century ago. A handsome bay-
window was placed over the porch in May, 1 8 8 1 , from which a fine
view was obtained. The front door, which is divided laterally, in the
fashion of the day, into an upper and lower door, still retains its quaint
old brass knocker 5 and the same shutters, with their curious fastenings
and hinges, remain as when it was built, in 1772, by the grandfather
of the late Mr. John C. Schuyler, who leased the premises after

AN AMERICAN LADY 49
beam was left, and the scorched brick walls were
all that remained to mark where it had stood,
Madame could not be said to be left without a
dwelling, having a house-' in Albany rather larger
than the one destroyed. But she was fondly at
tached to the spot which had been the scene of so
much felicity, and rendered more dear to her by
retaining within its bounds the remains of her be
loved partner. She removed to Pedrom's house
for the night. The news of what had happened
spread every where ; and she had the comfort of
knowing, in consequence of this misfortune, better
than she could by any other means, how great a
degree of public esteem and private gratitude she
had excited. The next day people came from all
quarters to condole, and ask her directions where
and how she would choose to have another house
built. And in a few days the ground was covered
with bricks, timber, and other materials, brought
there by her friends in voluntary kindness. It is
to be observed that the people in the interior of
New York were so exceedingly skillful in the use
not only of the axe, but all ordinary tools used in
the fire. The scene looking south from this spot is one of great
beauty, stretching over a level plain reaching to the site of the Van
Rensselaer mansion about three or four miles below, skirted by the
river on the east and the Erie Canal on its western border.
1 This house was on the south side of State Street opposite North
Pearl Street. It was owned and occupied by Madame's father, who
directed in his will that she should have the use of it during life.
Some years after the Revolution, it was removed for the opening
of South Pearl Street.
VOL. II. — 4

50 MEMOIRS OF
planing and joining timber, that with the aid of a
regular carpenter or two to carry on the nicer parts
of the work, a man could build an ordinary house,
if it were a wooden one, with very little more than
his own domestics. It can scarce be credited that
this house, begun in August, was ready for aunt's
reception against winter, which here begins very
early. But General Bradstreet^ had sent some of
the king's workmen, considering them as employed
for the public service, while carrying on this build
ing. The most unpleasant circumstance about this
new dwelling, was the melancholy hiatus which
appeared in front, where the former large house
had stood, and where the deep and spacious cellars
still yawned in gloomy desolation. Madame, who
no longer studied appearance, but merely thought of
a temporary accommodation, for a life which neither
she nor any one expected to be a long one, ordered a
broad wooden bridge, like those we see over rivers.
This bridge was furnished with seats like a portico,
and this with the high walls of the burnt house,
which were a kind of screen before the new one,
1 John Bradstreet was quarter-master general, whose career has been
sketched by Dr. O'Callaghan in " Colonial Documents of New York,"
VIII, 379. His stateraent of Indian affairs in the war with Pontiac is
to be found in the "Diary of the Siege of Detroit," published in IV,
"Munsell's Hist. Series." His papers are preserved in the New York
State Library at Albany. The house occupied by Gen. Philip Schuyler
in Albany, one of the historical mansions of that city, was built by the
wife of General Bradstreet during his absence at Oswego. He filled
with distinguished ability various important oiSces, civil and military,
and died 25 September, 1774, aged 63.

AN AMERICAN LADY 51
gave the whole the appearance of some ancient
ruin. Madame did not find the winter pass comfortably.
That road, now that matters were regularly settled,
was no longer the constant resort of her military
friends. Her favorite nieces were too engaging,
and too much admired, to leave room to expect they
should remain with her. She found her house com
paratively cold and inconvenient, and the winter
long and comfortless. She could not now easily
go the distance to church. Pedrom, that affection
ate and respected brother, was now, by increasing
deafness, disqualified from being a companion ; and
sister Susan, infirm and cheerless, was now, for the
most part, confined to her chamber. Under these
circumstances she was at length prevailed on to
remove to Albany, The Flats she gave in lease to
Pedrom's son Stephen, The house and surround
ing grounds were let to an Irish gentleman, who
came over to America to begin a new course of
life, after spending his fortune in fashionable dissi
pation. On coming to America, he found that
there was an intermediate state of hardship and self-
denial to be encountered, before he could enter on
that fancied Arcadia which he thought was to be
found in every wood. He settled his family in this
temporary dwelling, while he went to traverse the
provinces in search of some unforfeited Eden, where
the rose had no thorn, and the course of ceaseless
labor had not begun to operate. Madame found

52 MEMOIRS OF
reason to be highly satisfied with the change. She
had mills ^ which supplied her with bread, her slaves
cut and brought home fire wood, she had a good
garden, and fruit and every other rural dainty came
to her in the greatest abundance. All her former
proteges and friends in different quarters delighted
to send their tribute ; and this was merely an inter
change of kindness.
Soon after this removal, her eldest niece, a re
markably fine young woman, was married to Mr.
C. of C.^ manor, which was accounted one of the
best matches, or rather the very best in the prov
ince. She was distinguished by a figure of uncom
mon grace and dignity, a noble and expressive
countenance, and a mind such as her appearance
led one to expect. This very respectable person
is, I believe, still living, after witnessing, among
her dearest connections, scenes the most distressing,
and changes the most painful. She has ever con-
1 Aunt Schuyler had a third share in the property left by her father
at Saratoga (Schuylerville), consisting of lands, farras and mills. This
large property afterwards came into the possession of General Philip
Schuyler. The mills and other buildings were burned by Burgoyne.
2 Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Comelius Cuyler, raarried James
Van Cortlandt, in 1654 ; and six years later her sister Elsie married
Augustus Van Cortlandt, a brother of James. Elsie died eighteen
months after her marriage. James and Augustus were the sons of
Frederick Van Cortlandt and Frances Jay, his wife. They were
descendants in the fourth generation of Olof Stevense Van Cortlandt,
the Hollander. Margaret, youngest daughter of Cornelius Cuyler,
married Isaac Low of New York. In the Revolution he hesitated,
and was lost. His brother, Nicholas Low, was wiser, and saved
himself and estate.

AN AMERICAN LADY

53

ducted herself, so as to do honor to the excellent
examples of her mother and aunt, and to be a pat
tern of steadfast truth and generous friendship, in
exigencies the most trying. Her younger sister,
equally admired, though possessing a different style
of beauty, more soft and debonair, with the fairest
complexion, and most cheerful simpHcity of aspect,
was the peculiar favorite of her aunt, above all that
ever she took charge of; she, too, was soon after
married to that highly esteemed patriot the late
Isaac L., revered, through the whole continent, for
his sound good sense and genuine public spirit.
He was, indeed, "happily tempered, mild, and
firm ; " and was finally the victim of steadfast
loyalty. It now remains to say how the writer of these
pages became so well acquainted with the subject
of these memoirs.
My father was at this time a subaltern in the
55th regiment. That body of men were then
stationed at Oswego ; but during the busy and
warlike period I have been describing, my mother
and I were boarded, in the country, below Albany,
with the most worthy people imaginable ; with
whom we ever after kept up a cordial friendship.
My father, wishing to see his family, was indulged
with permission, and at the same time ordered to
take the command of an additional company, who
were to come up, and to purchase for the regiment
all the stores they should require for the winter ;

54 MEMOIRS OF
which proved a most extensive commission. In
the month of October he set out on this journey,
or voyage rather, in which it was settled that my
mother and I should accompany him. We were, I
i believe, the first females, above the very lowest
I ranks, who had ever penetrated so far into this
remote wilderness. Certainly never was joy greater
than that which lulled my childish mind on setting
out on this journey. I had before seen little of my
father, and the most I knew of him was from the
solicitude I had heard expressed on his account,
and the fear of his death after every battle, I was,
indeed, a little ashamed of having a military father,
brought up as I had mostly been, in a Dutch family,
and speaking that language as fluently as my own ;
yet, on the other hand, I had felt so awkward at
seeing all my companions have fathers to talk and
complain to, while I had none, that I thought upon
the whole it was a very good thing to have a father
of any kind. The scarlet coat, which I had been
taught to consider as the symbol of wickedness,
disgusted me in some degree ; but then, to my
great comfort, I found my father did not swear ;
and again, to my unspeakable delight, that he
prayed. A soldier pray ! was it possible ? and
should I really see my father in heaven ! How
transporting ! By a sudden revolution of opinion
I now thought my father the most charming of all
beings ; and the overflowings of my good will reached
to the whole company, because they wore the same

AN AMERICAN LADY 55
color, and seemed to respect and obey him, I
dearly loved idleness too, and the more, because
my mother, who delighted in needle-work, con
fined me too much to it. What joys were mine !
to be idle for a fortnight, seeing new woods, rivers,
and animals, every day ; even then the love of na
ture was, in my young bosom, a passion productive
of incessant delight. I had, too, a primer, two
hymns, and a ballad; and these I read over and
over with great diligence. At intervals my atten
tion was agreeably engaged by the details the sol
diers gave my father of their manner of living and
fighting in the woods, etc., and with these the
praises of Madame were often mingled, I thought
of her continually ; every great thing I heard about
her, even her size, had its impression. She became
the heroine of my childish imagination ; and I
thought of her as something both awful and ad
mirable. We had the surgeon of the regiment,
and another officer with us ; they talked too, of
Madame, of Indians, of battles, and of ancient
history. Sitting from morning to night musing in ,
the boat, contemplating my father, who appeared
to me a hero and a saint, and thinking of Aunt '
Schuyler, who filled up my whole mind with the
grandeur with which my fancy had invested her ;
and then having my imagination continually amused
with the variety of noble wild scenes which the
beautiful banks of the Mohawk afforded, I am
convinced I thought more in that fortnight, that is

56 MEMOIRS
to say, acquired more ideas, and took more lasting
impressions, than ever I did, in the same space of
time, in my life. This, however foreign it may
appear to my subject, I mention, as so far connect
ing with it, that it accounts, in some measure, for
that development of thought which led me to take
such ready and strong impressions from aunt's con
versation when afterwards I knew her.

chapter IX
CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNEY — ARRIVAL
AT OSWEGO
NEVER, certainly, was a journey so replete
with felicity. I luxuriated in idleness and
novelty ; knowledge was my delight, and it was
now pouring in on my mind from all sides. What
a change from sitting pinned down to my samplar
by my mother till the hour of play, and then run
ning wild with children as young, and still simpler
than myself. Much attended to by all my fellow
travellers, I was absolutely intoxicated with the
charms of novelty, and the sense of my new-found
importance. Thefirst day we came to Schenectady,
a little town, situated in a rich and beautiful spot,
and partly supported by the Indian trade. The
next day we embarked, proceeded up the river with
six bateaux, and came early in the evening to one
of the most charming scenes imaginable, where Fort
Hendrick was built; so called, in compliment to the
principal sachem, or king of the Mohawks. The
castle of this primitive monarch stood at a little
distance, on a rising ground, surrounded by pali
sades. He resided, at the time, in a house which
the public workmen, who had lately built this fort.

58 MEMOIRS OF
had been ordered to erect for him in the vicinity.
We did not fail to wait upon his majesty; who, not
choosing to depart too much from the customs
of his ancestors, had not permitted divisions of
apartments, or modern furniture, to profane his new
dwelling. It had the appearance of a good barn,
and was divided across by a mat hung in the
middle. King Hendrick, who had indeed a very
princely figure, and a countenance that would not
have dishonored royalty, was sitting on the floor
beside a large heap of wheat, surrounded with
baskets of dried berries of different kinds ; beside
him, his son, a very pretty boy, somewhat older
than myself, was caressing a foal, which was un
ceremoniously introduced into the royal residence,
A laced hat, a fine saddle and pistols, gifts of his
good brother the great king, were hung round on
the cross beams. He was splendidly arrayed in a
coat of pale blue, trimmed with silver ; all the rest
of his dress was of the fashion of his own nation,
and highly embellished with beads and other orna
ments. All this suited my taste exceedingly, and
was level to my comprehension. I was prepared
to admire King Hendrick by hearing him described
as a generous warrior, terrible to his enemies and
kind to his friends : the character of all others cal
culated to make the deepest impression on ignorant
innocence, in a country where infants learned the
horrors of war from its vicinity. Add to all this,
that the monarch smiled, clapped my head, and

AN AMERICAN LADY 59
ordered me a little basket, very pretty, and filled
by the officious kindness of his son with dried
berries. Never did princely gifts, or the smile of
royalty, produce more ardent admiration and pro
found gratitude. I went out of the royal presence
overawed and delighted, and am not sure but what
I have liked kings all my life the better for this
happy specimen, to which I was so early introduced.
Had I seen royalty, properly such, invested with
all the pomp of European magnificence, I should
possibly have been confused and over-dazzled.
But this was quite enough, and not too much for
me ; and I went away, lost in a reverie, and thought
of nothing but kings, battles, and generals for many
days after.
This journey, charming my romantic imagination
by its very delays and difficulties, was such a source
of interest and novelty to me, that above all things
I dreaded its conclusion, which I well knew would
be succeeded by long tasks and close confinement.
Happily for me we soon entered upon Wood
creek, the most desirable of all places for a traveller
who loves to linger if such another traveller there
be. This is a small river, which winds irregularly
through a deep and narrow valley of the most
lavish fertility. The depth and richness of the
soil here was evinced by the loftiness and the
nature of the trees, which were, hickory, butter-nut,
chestnut, and sycamores, of vast circumference as
well as height. These became so top-heavy, and

6o MEMOIRS OF
their roots were so often undermined by this insidi
ous stream, that in every tempestuous night, some
giants of the grove fell prostrate, and very fre
quently across the stream, where they lay in all
their pomp of foliage, like a leafy bridge, un-
witherd, and formed an obstacle almost invincible
to all navigation. The Indian lifted his slight
canoe, and carried it past the tree ; but our deep-
loaded bateaux could not be so managed. Here
my orthodoxy was shocked, and my anti-military
prejudices revived by the swearing of the soldiers ;
but then again my veneration for my father was
if possible increased, by his lectures against swear
ing provoked by their transgression. Nothing re
mained for our heroes but to attack these sylvan
giants axe in hand, and make way through their
divided bodies. The assault upon fallen greatness
was unanimous and unmerciful, but the resistance
was tough, and the process tedious ; so much so,
that we were three days proceeding fourteen miles,
having at every two hours' end at least, a new
tree to cut through.
It was here, as far as I recollect the history of
my own heart, that the first idea of artifice ever
entered to my mind. It was, like most female
artifices, the offspring of vanity. These delays
were a new source of pleasure to me. It was
October : the trees we had to cut through were
often loaded with nuts, and while I ran lighdy
along the branches, to fill my royal basket with

AN AMERICAN LADY 6i
their spoils, which I had great pleasure in distribut
ing, I met with multitudes of fellow plunderers
in the squirrels of various colors and sizes, who
were here numberless. This made my excursions
amusing : but when I found my disappearance
excited alarm, they assumed more interest. It was
so fine to sit quietly among the branches, and hear
concern and solicitude expressed about the child.
I will spare the reader the fatigue of accompany
ing our little fleet through
" An tres vast and deserts wild : "
only observing, that the munificent solitude through
which we travelled was much relieved by the sight
of Johnson hall, beautifully situated in a plain
by the river ; while Johnson castle, a few miles
further up, made a most respectable appearance
on a commanding eminence at some distance.
We travelled from one fort to another ; but in
three or four instances, to my great joy, they were
so remote from each other, that we found it neces
sary to encamp at night on the bank of the river.
This, in a land of profound solitude, where wolves,
foxes, and bears abounded, and were very much
inclined to consider and treat us as intruders, might
seem dismal to wiser folks. But I was so grati
fied by the bustle and agitation produced by our
measures of defence, and actuated by the love
which all children have for mischief that is not
fatal, that I enjoyed our night's encampment ex-

62 MEMOIRS OF
ceedingly. We stopped early wherever we saw the
largest and most combustible kind of trees. Cedars
were great favorites, and the first work was to fell
and pile upon each other an incredible number,
stretched lengthways, while every one who could
was busied in gathering withered branches of pine,
etc, to fill up the interstices of the pile, and make
the green wood burn the faster. Then a train of
gun-powder was laid along to give fire to the whole
fabric at once, which blazed and crackled magnifi
cently. Then the tents were erected close in a
row before this grand conflagration. This was not
merely meant to keep us warm, though the nights
did begin to grow cold, but to frighten wild beasts
and wandering Indians. In case any such Indians,
belonging to hostile tribes, should see this prodi
gious blaze, the size of it was meant to give them
an idea of a greater force than we possessed.
In one place, where we were surrounded by hills,
with swamps lying between them, there seemed
to be a general congress of wolves, who answered
each other from opposite hills, in sounds the most
terrific. Probably the terror which all savage ani
mals have at fire was exalted into fury, by seeing
so many enemies, whom they durst not attack.
The bull frogs, the harmless, the hideous inhabit
ants of the swamps, seemed determined not to
be out-done, and roared a tremendous bass to this
bravura accompaniment. This was almost too much
for my love of the terribly sublime : some women,

AN AMERICAN LADY 63
who were our fellow-travellers, shrieked with terror :
and finally, the horrors of that night were ever
after held in awful remembrance by all who shared
them. The last night of this eventful pilgrimage, of
which I fear to tire my readers by a farther recital,
was spent at Fort Brewerton, then commanded by
Captain Mungo Campbell,^ whose warm and gener
ous heart, whose enlightened and comprehensive
mind, whose social qualities and public virtues
I should delight to commemorate did my limits
permit ; suffice it, that he is endeared to my recol
lection by being the first person who ever supposed
me to have a mind capable of culture, and I was
ever after distinguished by his partial notice. Here
we were detained two days by a premature fall
of snow. Very much disposed to be happy any
where, I was here particularly so. Our last day's
journey, which brought us to Lake Ontario and
Fort Oswego, our destined abode, was a very hard
one ; we had people going before, breaking the
ice with paddles, all the way.
All that I had foreboded of long tasks, confine
ment, etc., fell short of the reality. The very deep
snow confined us all ; and at any rate the rampart
or the parade would have been no favorable scene
of improvement for me. One great source of en
tertainment I discovered here, was no other than
''¦ Colonel Mungo Campbell was killed leading on the attack of Fort
St. Anne, at the battle of White Plains, Anno 1777. — Mrs. Grant.

64 MEMOIRS OF
the Old Testament, which during my confinement
I learned to read ; till then having done so very
imperfectly. It was an unspeakable treasure as a
story book, before I learnt to make any better use
of it, and became, by frequent perusal, indelibly
imprinted on my memory. Wallace wight, and
Welwood's memoirs of the history of England,
were my next acquisitions. Enough of egotism,
yet all these circumstances contributed to form that
taste for solid reading which first attracted the at
tention of my invaluable friend.
I cannot quit Ontario without giving a slight
sketch of the manner in which it was occupied and
governed while I was there and afterwards, were it
but to give young soldiers a hint how they may
best use their time and resources, so as to shun the
indolence and ennui they are often liable to in such
situations. The 55th had by this time acquired
several English officers ; but with regard to the
men, it might be considered as a Scotch regiment,
and was indeed originally such, being raised but a
very few years before, in the neighborhood of
Stirling. There were small detachments in other
forts ; but the greatest part were in this, commanded
by Major (afterwards Colonel) Duncan of Lundie,
elder brother of the late Lord Duncan of Camper-
down. He was an experienced officer, possessed
of considerable military science, learned, humane,
and judicious, yet obstinate, and somewhat of an
humorist withal. Wherever he went a respectable

AN AMERICAN LADY 65
library went with him. Though not old he was
gouty, and war-worn, and therefore allowably car
ried about many comforts and conveniences that
others could not warrantably do. The fort was a
large place, built entirely of earth and great logs ;
I mean the walls and ramparts, for the barracks
were of wood, and cold and comfortless. The cut
ting down the vast quantity of wood used in this
building had, however, cleared much of the fertile
ground by which the fort was surrounded. The
lake abounded with excellent fish and varieties of
water-fowl, while deer and every kind of game were
numerous in the surrounding woods. All these
advantages, however, were now shut up by the
rigors of winter. The officers were all very young
men, brought from school or college to the army,
and after the dreadful specimen of war which they
had met with on their first outset, at the lines of
Ticonderoga, they had gone through all possible
hardships. After a march up St. Lawrence, and
then through Canada here, a march indeed, con
sidering the season, and the new road, worthy the
hero of Pultowa, they were stationed in this new
built garrison, far from every trace of civilization.
These young soldiers were, however, excellent sub
jects for the forming hand of Major Duncan.^ As
1 Alexander Duncan, of the 55th regiment, obtained his company
28 October, 1755, was proraoted to raajor 1760, and to lieutenant-
colonel 1764. He was at Fort Ontario in October, 1763, and retired
from the army in 1773.
VOL. II. — 5

66 MEMOIRS OF
I have said on a former occasion of others, if they
were not improved, they were not spoiled, and what
little they knew was good.
The major, by the manner in which he treated
them, seemed to consider them as his sons, or pupils ;
only one might call him an austere parent, or a
rigid instructor. But this semblance of severity was
necessary to form his pupils to habitual veneration.
Partaking every day of their convivial enjoyments,
and showing every hour some proof of paternal care
and kindness ; all this was necessary to keep them
within due limits. Out of regard to their own wel
fare he wanted no more of their love than was con
sistent with salutary fear ; and yet made himself so
necessary to them, that nothing could be so terrible
to them as, by any neglect or imprudence, to alien
ate him. He messed with them, but lived in a
house of his own. This was a very singular build
ing divided into two apartments ; one of which was
a bedroom, in which many stores found place, the
other, abreakfasting-parlor, and, at the same time, a
library. Here were globes, quadrants, mathematical
instruments, flutes, dumb-bells, and chess-boards ;
here, in short, was a magazine of instruction and
amusement for the colonel's pupils, that is, for all
the garrison. (Cornelius Cuyler, who had now
joined the regiment, as youngest ensign, was in
cluded in this number.) This Scythian dwelling,
for such it seemed, was made entirely of wood, and
fixed upon wheels of the same material, so that it

AN AMERICAN LADY 67
could be removed from one part of the parade to
another, as it frequently was. So slight a tenement,
where the winters were intensely cold, was ill cal
culated for a gouty patient ; for this, however, he
found a remedy ; the boards, which formed the walls
of his apartment, being covered with deer-skins,
and a most ample bear-skin spread on the floor by
way of carpet. When once the winter set fully in,
Oswego became a perfect Siberia ; cut off even from
all intelligence of what was passing in the world.
But the major did not allow this interval to waste
in sloth or vacancy ; he seemed rather to take ad
vantage of the exclusion of all exterior objects. His
library was select and soldier-like. It consisted of
numerous treatises on the military art, ancient and
modern history, biography, etc., besides the best
authors in various sciences, of which I only recollect
geography and the mathematics. All the young
men were set to read such books as suited their dif
ferent inclinations and capacities. The subalterns
breakfasted with their commander In rotation every
day, three or four at a time ; after breakfast he kept
them, perhaps two hours, examining them on the
subject of their different studies. Once a week he
had a supper party for such of the captains as were
then in the fort ; and once a week they entertained
him in the same manner. To these parties such of
the subalterns, as distinguished themselves by dili
gence and proficiency, were invited. Whoever was
negligent, he made the subject of sarcasms so pointed

68 MEMOIRS
at one time, and at another so ludicrous, that there
was no enduring it. The dread of severe punish
ment could not operate more forcibly. Yet he was
so just, so impartial, so free from fickleness and
favoritism, and so attentive to their health, their
amusements, and their economy, that every indi
vidual felt him necessary to his comfort, and looked
up to him as his " guide, philosopher, and friend."

Chapter X
BENEFIT OF SELECT READING — HUNTING
EXCURSION
UNSPEAKABLE benefit and improvement
was derived from the course of reading I
have described, which, in the absence of other sub
jects, furnished daily topics of discussion, thus im
pressing it more forcibly on the mind.
The advantages of this course of social study,
directed by a mentor so respected, were such, that
I have often heard it asserted that these unformed
youths derived more solid improvement from it
than from all their former education. Reading is
one thing ; but they learned to think and to con
verse. The result of these acquirements served to
impress on my mind what I formerly observed
with regard to Madame, that a promiscuous multi
tude of books always within reach retards the acqui
sition of useful knowledge. It is like having a
great number of acquaintances and few friends ; one
of the consequences of the latter is to know much
of exterior appearances, of modes and manners, but
little of nature and genuine character. By run
ning over numbers of books without selection, in a
desultory manner, people, in the same way, get a

yo MEMOIRS OF
general superficial idea of the varieties and nature
of different styles, but do not comprehend or retain
the matter with the same accuracy as those who
have read a few books, by the best authors, over
and over with diligent attention. I speak now of
those one usually meets with ; not of those com
manding minds, whose intuitive research seizes on
everything worth retaining, and rejects the rest as
naturally as one throws away the rind when pos
sessed of the kernel.
Our young students got through the winter pretty
well ; and it is particularly to be observed, that there
was no such thing as a quarrel heard of among them.
Their time was spent In a regular succession of use-
flal pursuits, which prevented them from risking the
dangers that often occur in such places ; for, in
general, idleness and confinement to the same circle
of society produce such a fermentation in the mind,
and such neglect of ceremonial observances, which
are the barriers of civility, that quarrels and duels
more readily occur in such situations than in any
other. But when spring drew near, this paternal
commander found it extremely difficult to rein In
the impatience of the youths to plunge into the
woods to hunt. There were such risks to en
counter, of unknown morasses, wolves, and hostile
Indians, that it was dangerous to indulge them.
At last, when the days began to lengthen, in the
end of February, a chosen party, on whose hardi
hood and endurance the major could depend, were

AN AMERICAN LADY 71
permitted to go on a regular hunting excursion in
the Indian fashion. This was become desirable on
different accounts, the garrison having been for some
time before entirely subsisting on salt provisions.
Sheep and cows were out of the question, there not
being one of either within forty miles. A Captain
Hamilton, who was a practised wood ranger, com
manded this party, who were clad almost like
Indians, and armed in the same manner. They
were accompanied by a detachment of ten men ;
some of whom having been prisoners with the
Indians, were more particularly qualified to engage
in this adventure. They were allowed four or five
days to stay, and provided with a competent supply
of bear-skins, blankets, etc., to make their projected
wigwams comfortable. The allotted time expired,
and we all begun to quarrel with our salt provisions,
and to long for the promised venison. Another,
and yet another day passed, when our longing was
entirely absorbed in the apprehensions we begun to
entertain. Volunteers now presented themselves to
go in search of the lost hunters ; but those offers
were, for good reasons, rejected, and every counte
nance begun to lengthen with fears we were un
willing to express to each other. The major,
conjecturing the hunters might have been bewil
dered in those endless woods, ordered the cannon
to be fired at noon, and again at midnight, for their
direction. On the eighth day, when suspense was
wound up to the highest pitch, the party were seen

72 MEMOIRS OF
approaching, and they entered in triumph, loaded
with sylvan spoils ; among which were many strange
birds and beasts. I recollect, as the chief objects
of my admiration, a prodigious swan, a wild turkey,
and a young porcupine. Venison abounded, and
the supply was both plentiful and seasonable.
" Spring returned with its showers," and con
verted our Siberia, frozen and forlorn, and shut out
from human intercourse, into an uncultured Eden,
rich in all the majestic charms of sublime scenery,
and primaeval beauty and fertility. It is in her
central retreat, amidst the mighty waters of the
west, that nature seems in solitary grandeur to have
chosen her most favored habitation, remote from
the ocean, whose waves bear the restless sons of
Europe on their voyages of discovery, invasion, and
intrusion. The coasts of America are indeed com
paratively poor, except merely on the banks of great
rivers, though the universal veil of evergreens con
ceals much sterility from strangers. But it is in the
depth of those forests, and around these sea-like
lakes, that nature has been profusely kind, and dis
covers more charms the more her shady veil is
withdrawn from her noble features. If ever the
fond illusions of poets and philosophers — that
Atalantis, that new Arcadia, that safe and serene
Utopia, where ideal quiet and happiness have so
often charmed in theory ; if ever this dream of
social bliss, in some new-planted region, is to be
realized, this unrivalled scene of grandeur and fer-

AN AMERICAN LADY

73

tility bids fairest to be the place of its abode. Here
the climate is serene and equal ; the rigorous winters
that brace the frame, and call forth the powers of
mind and body to prepare for its approach, are suc
ceeded by a spring so rapid, the exuberance of vernal
bloom bursts forth so suddenly, after the disappear
ance of those deep snows, which cherish and fructify
the earth, that the change seems like a magical
delusion. The major saw every one enraptured, like people
suddenly let out of prison ; and the whole garrison
seemed ripe for running wild through the woods,
in pursuit of innumerable birds of passage, which
had come on the wings of the genial south to resume
their wonted abodes by the great lakes, where they
hatch among swamps and islands without number.

Chapter XI
GARDENING AND AGRICULTURE — RETURN OF
THE AUTHOR TO ALBANY
THE major rejoiced in their joy without having
the least intention of indulging them either
in the gay idleness, or the wild sports which the
season inspired. He had been their Mentor all
winter, and was now about to commence their
Agricola. When giving an account of the garrison I should
have mentioned a company or two, I do not re
member which, of engineers, the officers of which,
from their superior intelligence, were a great acqui
sition to the society. To these friendly coadjutors
the major communicated his plans, which they
readily adopted. Among his concealed stores were
Indian corn, peas and beans in abundance, and all
kinds of garden seeds. Before the season opened
he had arranged with these engineers the plan ofa
large garden, bowling-green, and enclosed field, for
the use of these and all succeeding troops. This
was a bold attempt when one considers that you
might as well look for a horse in Venice as In Os
wego. No such animal had ever penetrated so far.
A single cow, belonging to the sutler, was the only

AN AMERICAN LADY 75
tame creature, dogs and cats excepted, to be seen
here. But there was a great stock of palisadoes,
which had been cut for the garrison, lying ready ;
and their pioneers and workmen still remaining
there, the new erection being scarce complete. The
new project was received with " curses not loud but
deep." Were they to go all out to plod and drudge
for others, who would neither pay nor thank them ;
for, at most, they argued they should stay only a
year, and reap very little indeed of the fruit of their
labors. The major's plans, however, were deep laid ;
matters wore a peaceable aspect ; and there was no
knowing how long they might remain there. Ex
cept shooting in the woods, or fishing, they were
without business, pleasure, or varied society. He
feared the men would degenerate into savage wild
ness, and their officers into that sordid indifference
which is too often the consequence of being, at the
early season of life, without an aim or a pursuit.
He wished to promote a common interest, and
habits social and domestic. He wished too, that
they might make some advantage of this temporary
banishment, to lay by a little store to eke out their
pittance when they returned to more expensive
places ; in short, he wished to give them habits of
regular economy, which should be useful to them
ever after. He showed them his plans ; gave each
of them a department in overseeing the execution
of them ; and, for that purpose, each had so many

76 MEMOIRS OF
men allotted to his command. He made it obvious
to them, that as the summer was merely to be occu
pied in gardening and the chase, the parade of mili
tary dress was both expensive and unnecessary. In
the store was a great surplus of soldier's coats.
These had been sent from Europe to supply the
regiment, which had been greatly diminished in
number by the fatal lines, and succeeding hard
march. The major ordered the regimental tailor
to fit these as a kind of short undress frock to the
officers, to whom correspondent little round hats,
very different from their regimental ones, were
allotted. Thus equipped, and animated by the
spirit of him who ruled their minds with uncon
scious yet unlimited sway, these young Cincinnati
set out, nothing loath, on their horticultural enter
prise. All difficulties soon vanished before them;
and, in a very few days, they became enthusiastic
in the pursuit of this new object. That large and
fertile portion of ground, which had been cleared of
the timber with which the garrison was built, was
given in charge to a sagacious old sergeant, who
knew something of husbandry, and who very soon
had it enclosed in a palisade, dug up, and planted
with beans, peas, and Indian corn, the food of future
pigs and poultry. To the officers more interesting
tasks were allotted. There was more than one gar
dener found in the regiment ; and here the engineers
and pioneers were particularly useful. The major,
who had predestined a favorite spot for his ample

AN AMERICAN LADY

77

garden, had it partially cleared, by cutting the winter
firing of the garrison from it. Where a mulberry,
a wild plum, or cherry tree was peculiarly well-shaped
or large, he marked it to remain, as well as some
lofty planes and chestnuts ; and when the shrubs
were grubbed up in spring, he left many beautiful
ones peculiar to the country. To see the sudden
creation of this garden, one would think the genius
of the place obeyed the wand of an enchanter : but
it is not every gardener who can employ some hun
dred men. A summer house in a tree, a fish-pond,
and a gravel-walk, were finished before the end of
May, besides having committed to the earth great
quantities of every vegetable production known in
our best gardens. These vegetables throve beyond
belief or example. The size of the cabbages, the
cucumbers, and melons, produced here was incredi
ble. They used, in the following years, to send
them down to astonish us at Albany. On the con
tinent they were not equalled, except in another
military garden, which emulation had produced at
Niagara. The major's economical views were fully
answered. Pigs and poultry in abundance were
procured, and supported by their Indian corn crop ;
they even procured cows and made hay in the
islands to feed them. The provisions allowed them
by the public afforded a sufficiency of flour, butter,
and salt meat, as also rice. The lake afforded quan
tities of excellent fish, much of which the soldiers
dried for winter consumption ; and fruit and vege-

78 MEMOIRS OF
tables, they had in profusion, from their gardens.
In short, they all lived in a kind of rough luxury,
and were enabled to save much of their pay. The
example spread to all the line of forts ; such is the
power of one active liberal mind pursuing its object
with undeviating steadiness.
We are now about to leave Ontario ; but perhaps
the reader is not willing to take a final farewell of
Colonel Duncan. The Indian war then, which
broke out after the peace of 1762, occasioned the
detention ofthe regiment in America till 1765 ; and
during all that time this paternal commander con
tinued with six companies of the regiment at On
tario, improving both the soil and the inhabitants.
He then returned with the regiment, of which he
was become lieutenant-colonel, to Ireland. Soon
after he retired from the army, and took up his
residence on the family estate of Lundie, having
previously married the woman of his heart, who had
engaged his early affections, and corresponded with
him during his long absence. Here he was as
happy as a shattered invalid could be, highly re
spected by the neighborhood, and frequently visited
by his old pupils, who still regarded him with warm
attachment. He died childless, and was succeeded
by the admiral, on whose merit it is needless to
expatiate ; for who has forgotten the victor of Cam
perdown ?
A company ofthe 55th was this summer ordered
to occupy the fort at Albany. This was com-

North Side of State Street from Pearl, to the Third House East of James Stree

AN AMERICAN LADY 79
manded by a sagacious veteran called Winepress.
My father did not exactly belong to this company,
but he wished to return to Albany, where he was
known and liked: and the colonel thought, from
his steadiness and experience, he would be particu
larly useful in paying the detached parties, and pur
chasing for the regiment such stores as they might
have occasion for. We set out in our bateaux ; and
I consoled myself for not only leaving Oswego, but
what was nearer my heart, a tame partridge and six
pigeons, by the hopes of wandering through Wood
creek, and sleeping in the woods. In both these
particulars I was disappointed. Our boats being
lighter, made better way, and we were received in
new settlements a little distant from the river. The
most important occurrence to me happened the first
day. On that evening we returned to Fort Brewer
ton ; ^ I found Captain Campbell delighted with my
reading, my memory, and my profound admiration
of the friendship betwixt David and Jonathan. We
staid the most of the next day. I was much cap
tivated with the copper-plates in an edition of Para
dise Lost, which, on that account, he had given me
to admire. When I was coming away he said to
me, " Keep that book, my dear child ; I foretell that
the time will come when you will take pleasure in
it." Never did a present produce such joy and
1 Fort Brewerton was one ofthe line of English fortifications between
Oswego and the Mohawk valley, situated on the shore of Oneida out
let, opposite the present village of Brewerton, 144 miles north-west
from Albany,

8o MEMOIRS
gratitude. I thought I was dreaming, and looked
at it a hundred times, before I could believe any
thing so fine was really my own. I tried to read
it and almost cried with vexation when I found
I could not understand it. At length I quitted
it in despair; yet always said to myself, I shall
be wiser next year.

Chapter XII
MADAME'S FAMILY AND SOCIETY DESCRIBED
THE next year (1762) came, and found me at
Albany ; if not wiser, more knowing. Again
I was shut up in a fort, solemn and solitary ; I had
no companion, and was never allowed to go out,
except with my mother, and that was very seldom
indeed. All the fine forenoons I sat and sewed ;
and when others went to play in the evening, I was
very often sent up to a large waste room, to get a
long task by heart of something very grave and
repulsive. In this waste room, however, lay an old
tattered dictionary, Bailey's I think, which proved a
treasure to me ; the very few books we had, being
all religious or military. I had returned to my
Milton, which I conned so industriously, that I
got it almost by heart, as far as I went ; yet took
care to go no farther than I understood. To make
out this point, when any one encouraged me by
speaking kindly to me, I was sure to ask the mean
ing of some word or phrase ; and when I found
people were not at all willing or able to gratify me, I
at length had recourse to my waste room and tattered
dictionary, which I found a perpetual fountain of
knowledge. Consequently the waste room, for-
VOL. II. — 6

82 MEMOIRS OF
merly a gloomy prison, which I thought of with
horror, became now the scene of all my enjoyment;
and the moment I was dismissed from my task, I
flew to it with anticipated delight; for there were
my treasure, Milton and the ragged dictionary,
which was now become the light of my eyes. I
studied the dictionary with indefatigable diligence ;
which I begun now to consider as very entertaining.
I was extremely sorry for the fallen angels, deeply
interested in their speeches, and so well acquainted
with their names, that I could have called the roll
of them with all the ease imaginable. Time run
on, I was eight years old, and quite uneducated,
except reading and plain-work ; when company
came I was considered as in the way, and sent up
to my waste room ; but here lay my whole pleasure,
for I had neither companions nor amusement. It
was, however, talked of, that I should go to a con
vent, at Trois Rivieres, in Canada, where several
officers had sent their daughters to be educated.
The fame of Aunt Schuyler every now and then
reached my ears, and sunk deep in my mind. To
see her I thought was a happiness too great for me ;
and I was continually drawing pictures of her to my
self Meanwhile the 17th regiment arrived; and a
party of them took possession of the fort. During
this interim, peace had been proclaimed; and the
55th regiment were under orders for Britain.
My father, not being satisfied with the single
apartment allotted to him by the new comers.

AN AMERICAN LADY 83
removed to the town ; where a friend of his, a
Scotch merchant, gave him a lodging In his own
house, next to that very Madame Schuyler who
had been so long my daily thoughts and nightly
dreams. We had not been long there when aunt
heard that my father was a good, plain, upright
man, without pretensions, but very well principled.
She sent a married lady,^ the wife of her favorite
nephew, who resided with her at the time, to ask us
to spend the evening with her. I think I have not
been on any occasion more astonished, than when,
with no little awe and agitation, I came into the
presence of Madame. She was sitting ; and filled
a great chair, from which she seldom moved. Her
aspect was composed, and her manner such as was,
at first, more calculated to Inspire respect, than con
ciliate affection. Not having the smallest solicitude
about what people thought of her, and having her
mind generally occupied with matters of weighty
concern, the first expression of her kindness seemed
rather a lofty courtesy, than attractive affability ;
but she shone out by degrees ; and she was sure
eventually to please every one worth pleasing, her
conversation was so rich, so various, so informing ;
everything she said bore such a stamp of reality ;
her character had such a grasp in it. Her expres-
1 Aunt Schuyler's favorite nephew was Philip Cuyler, who mar
ried Sarah Tweedy of Newport, Rhode Island. Their daughter
Cathaline Sophia, born January 19, 1766, was the wife of John Van
Cortlandt, a great-grandson of Stephanus, first proprietor of Cortlandt
Manor.

84 MEMOIRS OF
sions not from art and study, but from the clear
perceptions of her sound and strong mind, were
powerful, distinct, and exactly adapted to the occa
sion. You saw her thoughts as they occurred to her
mind, without the usual bias rising from either a
fear to offend, or a wish to please. This was one
of the secrets in which lay the singular power of her
conversation. When ordinary people speak to you,
your mind wanders in search of the motives that
prompt their discourse, or the views and prejudices
which bias it ; when those who excite (and perhaps
solicit) admiration talk, you are secretly asking
yourself whether they mean to inform, or dazzle
you. All this interior canvass vanished before the
evident truth and unstudied ease of aunt's discourse.
On a nearer knowledge, too, you found she was
much more intent to serve, than please you, and
too much engrossed by her endeavors to do so, to
stop and look round for your gratitude, which she
heeded just as little as your admiration. In short,
she informed, enlightened, and served you, without
levying on you any tribute whatever, except the
information you could give in return. I describe
her appearance as it then struck me ; and, once for
all, her manners and conversation, as I thought of
them when I was older and knew better how to
distinguish and appreciate. Everything about her
was calculated to increase the impression of respect
and admiration ; which, from the earliest dawn of
reflection, I had been taught to entertain for her.

AN AMERICAN LADY 85
Her house was the most spacious and best fur
nished I had ever entered. The family pictures,
and scripture paintings, were to me particularly awful
and impressive. I compared them to the models
which had before existed in my imagination, and
was delighted or mortified, as I found they did or
did not resemble them.
The family with which she was then surrounded,
awakened a more than common interest. Her
favorite nephew, the eldest son of her much beloved
sister, had, by his father's desire, entered into part
nership in a gieat commercial house In New York.
Smitten with the uncommon beauty of a young lady
of seventeen, from Rhode Island, he had married
her without waiting for the consent of his relations.
Had he lived In Albany, and connected himself
with one of his fellow citizens, bred up in frugal
simplicity, this step might have been easily got over.
But an expensive and elegant style of Hving begun
already to take place in New York; which was,
from the residence ofthe governor and commander
in chief, become the seat of a little court. The lady
whom Philip had married, was ofa family originally
Scotch : and derived her descent at no great distance
from one of the noblest families in that country.^
Gay, witty, and very engaging, beloved and Indulged,
beyond measure, by a fond husband, who was gen
erous and good-natured to excess, this young beauty
became " the glass of fashion, and the mould of
1 Earl of Crawford's. — Mrs. Grant.

86 MEMOIRS OF
form." And the house of this amiable couple was
the resort of all that was gay and elegant, and the
centre of attraction to strangers. The mayor, who
was a person singularly judicious, and most impartial
in the affection which he distributed among his large
family, saw clearly that the young people trusted
too much to the wealth he was known to possess,
and had got into a very expensive style of living ;
which, on examining their affairs, he did not think
likely to be long supported by the profits of the
business in which his son was engaged. The prob
able consequence of a failure, he saw, would so far
Involve him as to injure his own family : this he
prevented. Peace was daily expected : and the very
existence of the business in which he was engaged,
depended on the army ; which his house was wont
to furnish with everything necessary. He clearly
foresaw the withdrawing of this army; and that
the habits of open hospitality and expensive living
would remain, when the sources of their present
supplies were dried up. He insisted on his son's
entirely quitting this line, and retiring to Albany,
He loaded a ship on his own account for the West
Indies, and sent the young man, as supercargo, to
dispose of the lading. As house-keeping was given
up in New York, and not yet resumed in Albany,
this young creature had only the option of returning
to the large family she had left, or going to her
father-in-law's. Aunt Schuyler, ever generous and
considerate, had every allowance to make for the

AN AMERICAN LADY 87
high spirit and fine feelings of this inexperienced
young creature; and invited her, with her little
daughter, to remain with her till her husband's
return. Nothing could be more pleasing than to
witness the maternal tenderness and delicate confi
dence, which appeared in the behavior of Madame
to this new inmate, whose fine countenance seemed
animated with the liveliest gratitude, and the utmost
solicitude to please her revered benefactress. The
child was a creature not to be seen with indifference.
The beauty and understanding that appeared full
blown in her mother seemed budding with the
loveliest promise in the young Catalina ; a child
whom, to this day, I cannot recollect without an
emotion of tenderness. She was then about three
years old. Besides these interesting strangers, there
was a grand-niece whom she had brought up. Such
was her family when I first knew it. In the course
of the evening, dreams began to be talked of; and
every one in turn gave their opinion with regard to
that wonderful mode, in which the mind acts inde
pendent of the senses, asserting its immaterial nature
in a manner the most conclusive. I mused and
Ustened, till at length the spirit of quotation (which
very early began to haunt me) moved me to repeat,
from Paradise Lost, " When nature rests.
Oft in her absence mimic fancy wakes, to imitate her.
But misjoining shapes, wild work produces oft,"
I sat silent when my bolt was shot ; but so did not
Madame. Astonished to hear her favorite author

88 MEMOIRS OF
quoted readily, by so mere a child, she attached
much more importance to the circumstance than it
deserved. So much, indeed, that long after, she
used to repeat it to strangers in my presence, by
way of accounting for the great fancy she had taken
to me. These partial repetitions of hers fixed this
lucky quotation indelibly in my mind. Any person
who has ever been in love, and has unexpectedly
heard that sweetest of all music the praise of his
beloved, may judge of my sensations when Madame
began to talk with enthusiasm of Milton. The
bard of Paradise was indeed "the dweller of my
secret soul ; " and it never was my fortune before to
meet with any one who understood or relished him.
I knew very well that the divine spirit was his
Urania. But I took his invocation quite literally,
and had not the smallest doubt of his being as much
inspired as ever Isaiah was. This was a very hope
ful opening ; yet I was much too simple and too
humble to expect that I should excite the attention
of Madame. My ambition aimed at nothing higher
than winning the heart of the sweet Catalina ; and
I thought if heaven had given me such another
little sister, and enabled me to teach her, in due
time, to relish Milton, I should have nothing left
to ask.
Time went on ; we were neighbors, and became
intimate in the family. I was beloved by Catalina,
caressed by her charming mother, and frequently
noticed by aunt, whom I very much inclined to

AN AMERICAN LADY 89
love, were it not that it seemed to me as if, in so
doing, I should aspire too high. Yet in my visits
to her, where I had now a particular low chair in a
corner assigned me, I had great enjoyments ofvari
ous kinds. First, I met there with all those strangers
or inhabitants who were particularly respectable for
their character or conversation. Then I was wit
ness to a thousand acts of beneficence that charmed
me, I could not well say why, not having learned
to analyze my feelings. Then I met with the
Spectator and a few other suitable books, which I
read over and over with unwearied diligence, not
having the least idea of treating a book as a play
thing, to be thrown away when the charm of novelty
was past. I was by degrees getting into favor with
Aunt Schuyler, when a new arrival for a while sus
pended the growing intimacy. I allude to the
colonel of my father's regiment, who had removed
from Crown Point to Albany.
The colonel was a married man, whose wife, like
himself, had passed her early days in a course of
frivolous gaiety. They were now approaching the
decline of life, and finding nothing pleasing in the
retrospect nor flattering in prospect, time hung on
their hands. Where nothing round them was con
genial to their habits, they took a fancy to have
me frequently with' them as matter of amusement.
They had had children, and when they died their
mutual affection died with them. They had had a
fortune, and when it was spent all their pleasures

90 MEMOIRS
were exhausted. They were by this time drawing
out the vapid dregs of a tasteless existence, without
energy to make themselves feared, or those gentle
and amiable qualities which attract love : yet they
were not stained with gross vices, and were people
of character as the world goes.
What a new world was I entered into ! From
the quiet simplicity of my home, where I heard
nothing but truth, and saw nothing but innocence ;
and from my good friend's respectable mansion,
where knowledge reflected light upon virtue, and
where the hours were too few for their occupation;
to be a daily witness of the manner In which these
listless ghosts of departed fashion and gaiety drank
up the bitter lees of misused time, fortune, and
capacity. Never was lesson more impressive ; and
young as I was, I did not fail to mark the contrast,
and draw the obvious inference. From this hope
ful school I was set free the following summer (when
I had entered on my ninth year), by the colonel's
return to England. They were, indeed, kind to
me ; but the gratitude I could not but feel was a
sentiment independent of attachment, and early
taught me how difficult it is, nay how painful, to
disjoin esteem from gratitude.

Chapter XIII
SIR JEFFREY AMHERST — MUTINY - INDIAN WAR
AT this time (1765) peace had been for some
time established in Europe ; but the ferment
and agitation which even the lees and sediments of
war kept up in the northern colonies, and the many
regulations requisite to establish quiet and security
in the new acquired Canadian territory, required all
the care and prudence of the commander-in-chief,
and no little time. At this crisis, for such it proved.
Sir Jeffrey, afterwards Lord Amherst, came up to
Albany.-^ A mutiny had broke out among the
troops on account of withholding the provisions
they used to receive in time of actual war; and this
discontent was much aggravated by their finding
themselves treated with a coldness, amounting to
1 Jeffrey Amherst was born in England, 29 January, 17 17, and early
devoted himself to the profession of arms. He distinguished hiraself
on the continent, and in 1758, was appointed to the American service
with the rank of major-general, and captured Louisbourg. He suc
ceeded Abercrombie, and In 1759 took Ticonderoga and Crown Point.
It is related of him as an Instance of his activity and energy, that
he came down from Lake George on foot, ist January, 1759, and
proceeded on to New York afoot, with a few of his officers and sol
diers (" Legacy of Historical Gleanings," I, 33). He saw the whole
continent of North Araerica reduced in subjection to Great Britain, and
was loaded with title and honors by the governraent. He died
3 August, 1797, aged 81.

92 MEMOIRS OF
aversion, by the people of the country ; who now
forgot past services, and showed in all transactions a
spirit of dislike bordering on hostility to their pro
tectors, on whom they no longer felt themselves
dependent. Sir Jeffrey, however, was received like a prince at
Albany, respect for his private character conquering
the anti-military prejudice. The commander-in-
chief was in those days a great man on the conti
nent, having, on account of the distance from the
seat of government, much discretionary power in
trusted to him. Never was it more safely lodged
than in the hands of this judicious veteran, whose
comprehension of mind, impartiality, steadiness, and
close application to business, peculiarly fitted him
for his important station. At his table all strangers
were entertained with the utmost liberality ; while
his own singular temperance, early hours, and strict
morals, were peculiarly calculated to render him
popular among the old inhabitants. Here I wit
nessed an impressive spectacle : the guard-house was
in the middle of the street, opposite to Madame's ;
there was a guard extraordinary mounted in honor
of Sir Jeffrey ; at the hour of changing it all the
soldiery in the fort assembled there, and laid down
their arms, refusing to take them up again. I shall
never forget the pale and agitated countenances of
the officers ; they being too well assured that it was
a thing preconcerted ; which was actually the case,
for at Crown Point and Quebec the same thing was

AN AMERICAN LADY

93

done on the same day. Sir Jeffrey came down, and
made a calm dispassionate speech to them, promis
ing them a continuance of their privileges till further
orders from home, and offering pardon to the whole,
with the exception of a few ringleaders, whose lives,
however, were spared. This gentle dealing had its
due effect; but at Quebec the mutiny assumed a
most alarming aspect, and had more serious conse
quences, though It was in the end quelled. All
this time Sir Jeffrey's visits to Madame had been
frequent, both out of respect to her character and
conversation, and to reap the benefit of her local
knowledge on an approaching emergency. This
was a spirit of disaffection, then only suspected,
among the Indians on the Upper Lakes, which
soon after broke suddenly out into open hostility.
In consequence of her opinion he summoned Sir
W, Johnson to concert some conciliatory measures.
But the commencement of the war at this very
crisis, detained him longer to arrange with General
Bradstreet and Sir William the operations of the
ensuing campaign.
This war broke out very opportunely in some
respects. It afforded a pretext for granting those
indulgences to the troops, which It would otherwise
have been impolitic to give and unsafe to withhold.
It furnished occupation for an army too large to lie
idle so far from the source of authority, which could
not yet be safely withdrawn till matters were on a
more stable footing ; and it made the inhabitants at

94 MEMOIRS OF
once more sensible of their protection. Madame
had predicted this event, knowing better than any
one how the affections of these tribes might be lost
or won. She well knew the probable consequences
of the negligence with which they were treated, since
the subjection of Canada made us consider them as
no longer capable of giving us trouble. Pontiac,
chief of those nations who inhabited the borders of
the great lakes, possessed one of those minds which
break through all disadvantages to assert their innate
superiority. The rise and conduct of this war, were I able to
narrate them distinctly, the reader would perhaps
scarce have patience to attend to ; indistinct as they
must appear, retraced from my broked recollections.
Could I, however, do justice to the bravery, the
conduct, and magnanimity In some instances, and
the singular address and stratagem in others, which
this extraordinary person displayed in the course of
it, the power of untutored intellect would appear
incredible to those who never saw man but in an
artificial or degraded state, exalted by science or de
based by conscious ignorance and inferiority. During
the late war Pontiac occupied a central situation,
bounded on each side by the French and English
territories. His uncommon sagacity taught him to
make the most of his local advantages, and of that
knowledge of the European character which resulted
from this neighborhood. He had that sort of con
sequence which in the last century raised the able

AN AMERICAN LADY 95
and politic princes of the house of Savoy to the
throne they have since enjoyed. Pontiac held a
petty balance between two great contending powers.
Even the privilege of passing through his territories
was purchased with presents, promises and flatteries.
While the court which was paid to this wily warrior,
to secure his alliance, or at least his neutrality, made
him too sensible of his own consequence, it gave
him a near view of our policy and modes of life.
He often passed some time, on various pretexts, by
turns at Montreal and in the English camp. The
subjection of Canada proved fatal to his power, and
he could no longer play the skillful game between
both nations which had been so long carried on.
The general advantage of his tribe is always the
uppermost thought with an Indian. The liberal
presents which he had received from both parties,
afforded him the means of confederating with distant
nations, of whose alliance he thought to profit In his
meditated hostilities.
There were at that time many tribes, then un
known to Europeans, on the banks of Lake Supe
rior, to whom fire-arms and other British goods were
captivating novelties. When the French insidiously
built the fort of Detroit, and the still more detached
one of Michillmacklnac, on bounds hitherto unde
fined, they did it on the footing of having secure
places of trade, not to overawe the natives, but to
protect themselves from the English, They amply
rewarded them for permission to erect these for-

g6 MEMOIRS OF
tresses, and purchased at any expense that friend
ship from them without which it would have been
impossible to have maintained their ground in these
remote regions. All this liberality and flattery,
though merely founded on self-interest, had its
effect ; and the French, who are ever versatile and
accommodating, who wore the Huron dress, and
spoke the Huron language when they had any pur
pose to serve, were without doubt the favored nation.
We, too apt to despise all foreigners, and not over
complaisant even when we have a purpose to serve,
came with a high hand to occupy those forts which
we considered as our right after the conquest
of Canada, but which had been always held by
the more crafty French as an indulgence. These
troops, without ceremony, appropriated, and fol
lowing Major Duncan's example, cultivated all the
fertile lands around Detroit, as far as fancy or con
venience led them. The lands round Ontario were
in a different predicament, being regularly purchased
by Sir William Johnson. In consequence of the
peace which had taken place the year befdre, all the
garrisons were considered as in a state of perfect
security. Pontiac, in the meantime, conducted himself with
the utmost address, concealing the indignation which
brooded in his mind under the semblance of the
greatest frankness and good humor. Master of
various languages, and most completely master of
his temper and countenance, he was at home every-

AN AMERICAN LADY 97
¦where, and paid frequent friendly visits to Detroit,
near which, in the finest country imaginable, was
his abode. He frequently dined with the mess, and
sent them fish and venison. Unlike other Indians,
his manner appeared frank and communicative,
which opened the minds of others and favored his
deep designs. He was soon master, through their
careless conversation, of all he wished to know
relative to the stores, resources, and intentions of
the troops. Madame, who well knew the Indian
character in general, and was no stranger to the
genius and abilities of Pontiac, could not be satis
fied with the manner in which he was neglected on
one hand, nor his easy admission to the garrison on
the other. She always said they should either make
him their friend, or know him to be their foe.
In the meanwhile no one could be more busy
than this politic warrior. While the Indians were
in strict alliance with the French, they had their
wigwams and their Indian corn within sight of the
fort, lived in a considerable kind of village on the
border of the lake, and had a daily intercourse of
traffic and civility with the troops. There was a
large esplanade before the garrison, where the Indians
and soldiers sometimes socially played at ball to
gether. Pontiac had a double view in his intended
hostility. The Canadian priests, with the wonted
restless intriguing spirit of their nation, fomented
the discontents of the Indians. They persuaded
them, and perhaps flattered themselves, that if they
VOL. II. — 7

98 MEMOIRS
(the Indians) would seize the chain of forts, the
grand monarque would send a fleet to reconquer
Canada, and guaranty all the forts he should take
to Pontiac. Upon this he did not altogether de
pend : yet he thought if he could surprise Detroit,
and seize a vessel which was expected up from Os
wego with ammunition and stores, he might easily
take the other small vessels, and so command the
lake. This would be shut up by ice for the winter,
and it would take no little time to build on its
banks another fleet, the only means by which an
army could again approach the place. I will not
attempt to lead my reader through all the intricacies
of an Indian war (entirely such), and therefore of
all wars the most incomprehensible in its progress,
and most difficult in its terms. The result of two
master-strokes of stratagem, with which it opened,
are such as are curious enough, however, to find a
place in this detail.

Chapter XIV
PONTIAC — SIR ROBERT DAVERS
ALL the distant tribes were to join on hearing
Pontiac was in possession of the fort. Many
of those nearest, in the meanwhile, were to lie in
the neighboring woods, armed and ready to rush
out on the discharge of a cannon, on that day which
was meant to be fatal to the garrison. Out of the
intended massacre, however, the artillery were to be
spared that they might work the guns. Near the
fort lived a much admired Indian beauty, who was
known in the garrison by the name of the Queen of
Hearts. She not only spoke French, but dressed
not inelegantly in the European manner, and being
sprightly and captivating was encouraged by Pontiac
to go Into the garrison on various pretexts. The
advantage the Indian chief meant to derive from
this stratagem was, that she might be a kind of spy
in the fort, and that by her Influence over the com
mander, the wonted caution with regard to Indians
might be relaxed, and the soldiers be permitted to
go out unarmed and mingle in their diversions.
This plan in some degree succeeded. There was at
length a day fixed, on which a great match at foot
ball was to be decided between two parties of Indi
ans, and all the garrisons were Invited to be spectators.

IOO MEMOIRS OF
It was to be played on the esplanade opposite to
the fort. At a given signal the ball was to be
driven over the wall of the fort, which, as there was
no likelihood of its ever being attacked by cannon,
was merely a pallisade and earthen breast-work.
The Indians were to run hastily in, on pretence of
recovering the ball, and shut the gate against the
soldiers, whom Pontiac and his people were to
tomahawk immediately.
Pontiac, jealous of the Queen of Hearts, gave
orders, after she was let into the secret of this strat
agem, that she should go no more into the fort.
Whether she was offended by this want of con
fidence ; whether her humanity revolted at the
intended massacre, or whether she really felt a par
ticular attachment prevailing over her fidelity to
her countrymen, so it was ; her affection got the
better of her patriotism. A soldier's wife, who
carried out to her the day before some article of
dress she had made for her, was the medium she
made use of to convey a hint ofthe intended treach
ery. The colonel was unwilling from the dark hint
conveyed, to have recourse to any violent measures ;
and was, indeed, doubtful of the fact. To kindle
the flames of war wantonly, surrounded, as he was,
by hostile nations, who would carry their vengeance
into the defenceless new settlements, was a dreadful
expedient. Without betraying his informer he re
solved to convince himself. The men were ordered
to go out to see the ball played, but to keep under

AN AMERICAN LADY loi
shelter of the fort ; and if they saw the ball driven
in, immediately to return and shut the gates. I
cannot remember the exact mode in which this
manoeuvre was managed, but the consequence I
know was, first, the repulsing of the Indians from
the gate, and then the commencing of open hostili
ties on their side, while the garrison was for some
time in a state of blockade.
Meantime the Indians had concerted another
stratagem, to seize a vessel loaded with stores, which
was daily expected from Niagara. Commodore
Grant, a younger brother of the Glenmoriston
family in Inverness-shire, was, and I believe still
is, commander of the lakes ; an office which has now
greatly risen in importance. At that time his own
vessel and two or three smaller were employed .in
that navigation. This little squadron was very in
teresting on a double account. It carried stores,
troops, etc., which could not otherwise be trans
ported, there being no way of proceeding by land ;
and again the size of the vessels and a few swivels
or small cannon they carried enabled them to com
mand even a fleet of canoes, should the Indians be
disposed to attack them. Of this there was at the
time not the least apprehension ; and here I must
stop to give some account of the first victim to this
unlooked-for attack.
Sir Robert D  ^ was the representative of
1 An account of the surprise and death of Sir Robert Davers, whose
name Mrs. Grant hesitates to divulge, is given in " Munsell's Historical
Series," iv, 2, 3, 128.

I02 MEMOIRS OF
an ancient English family, of which he was orig
inally the sixth brother. At a certain time of life,
somewhere betwixt twenty-five and thirty, each was,
in turn, attacked with a hypochondriac disorder,
which finally proved fatal. Sir Robert, in turn,
succeeded to the estate and title, and to the dread
ful apprehension of being visited by the same ca
lamity. This was the more to be regretted, as he
was a person of very good abilities, and an excellent
disposition. The time now approached when he
was to arrive at that period of life at which the fatal
malady attacked his brothers. He felt, or imagined
he felt, some symptoms of the approaching gloom.
What should he do ? medicine had not availed.
Should he travel ; alas ! his brothers had travelled,
but the blackest despair was their companion.
Should he try a sea voyage, one of them commanded
a ship, and fate overtook him in his own cabin. It
occurred to him that, by living among a people
who were utter strangers to this most dreadful of
all visitations, and adopting this manner of life, he
might escape its influence. He came over to Amer
ica, where his younger brother served in a regiment
then In Canada. He felt his melancholy daily in
creasing, and resolved immediately to put in exe
cution his plan of entirely renouncing the European
modes of life, and incorporating himself in some
Indian tribe, hoping the novelty of the scene, and
the hardships to which it would necessarily subject
him, might give an entire new turn to his spirits.

AN AMERICAN LADY

103

He communicated his intention to Sir William
Johnson, who entirely approved of it, and advised
him to go up to the great lake among the Hurons,
who were an intelligent and sensible race, and in
habited a very fine country, and among whom he
would not be liable to meet his countrymen, or be
tempted back to the mode of life he wished for a
while entirely to forsake. This was no flight of
caprice, but a project undertaken In the most delib
erate manner, and with the most rational views. It
completely succeeded. The Hurons were not a
little flattered to think that a European of Sir
Robert's rank was going to live with them, and be
their brother. He did not fail to conciliate them
with presents, and still more by his ready adoption
of their dress and manners. The steadiness he
showed In adhering to a plan where he had not only
severe hardships, but numberless disgusts to en
counter, showed him possessed of invincible pa
tience and fortitude ; while his letters to his friends,
with whom he regularly corresponded, evinced much
good sense and just observation. For two years he
led this life, which habit made easy, and the enjoy
ment of equal spirits agreeable. Convinced that he
had attained his desired end, and conquered the
hereditary tendency so much dreaded, he prepared
to return to society, intending if his despondency
should recur, to return once more to his Indian
habit, and rejoin his Huron friends. When the
intention was formed by Pontiac and his associates

I04 MEMOIRS OF
of attacking the commodore's vessel. Sir Robert,
who wished now to be conveyed to some of the
forts, discerned the British ship from the opposite
shore of the great lake, and being willing to avail
himself of that conveyance, embarked in a canoe
with some of his own Indian friends, to go on
board the commodore. Meanwhile a very large
canoe, containing as many of Pontiac's followers as
it could possibly hold, drew near the king's ship,
and made a pretext of coming in a friendly manner,
while two or three others filled with warriors, hov
ered at a distance. They had fallen short of their
usual policy ; for they were painted red, and had
about them some of those symbols of hostility,
which are perfectly understood amongst each other.
Some friendly Indians, who happened to be by ac
cident on board the commodore's vessel, discerned
these, and warned him of the approaching danger.
On their drawing near the vessel they were ordered
to keep off. Thinking they were discovered, and
that things could be no worse, they attempted to
spring on board armed with their tomahawks and
scalping-knives, but were very soon repulsed. The
other canoes, seeing all was discovered, drew near
to support their friends, but were soon repulsed by
a discharge of the six-pounders. At this crisis, the
canoe, containing Sir Robert, began to advance in
another direction. The Indians who accompanied
him had not been apprised of the proposed attack ;
but being Hurons, the commodore never doubted

AN AMERICAN LADY 105
of their hostility. Sir Robert sat In the end of the
canoe dressed in all the costume of a Huron, and
wrapped up in his blanket. He ordered his com
panions to approach the ship immediately, not de
terred by their calling to them to keep off, intending,
directly, to make himself known ; but in the con
fusion he was accidently shot.
To describe the universal sorrow dIfTused over
the province in consequence of this fatal acci
dent would be impossible. Nothing since the
death of Lord Howe had excited such general
regret. The Indians carried the body to Detroit,
and delivered it up to the garrison for inter
ment. He had kept a journal during his resi
dence on the lakes, which was never recovered,
and must certainly have contained (proceeding
from such a mind so circumstanced) much curi
ous matter. Sir Charles, his younger brother,
then a captain in the 17th, succeeded him, but
had no visitation of the depression of mind so
fatal to his brothers.
Rumors, enlarged by distance, soon reached
Albany of this unlooked-for attack of the Indians.
Indeed, before they had any authentic details, they
heard of it in the most alarming manner from the
terrified back settlers, who fled from their incursions.
Those who dwell in a land of security, where only
the distant rumor of war can reach them, would
know something of the value of safety could they
be but one day transported to a region where this

io6 MEMOIRS
plague is let loose ; where the timorous and the
helpless are made to
" Die many times before their death,"
by restless humor, cruel suspense, and anticipated
misery. Many of the regiments employed in the
conquest of Canada had returned home, or gone
to the West Indies. Had the Canadians had spirit
and cohesion to rise in a body and join the Indians,
't is hard to say what might have been the conse
quence. Madame, whose cautions were neglected
in the day of prosperity, became now the public
oracle, and was resorted to and consulted by all.
Formerly she blamed their false security and neg
lect of that powerful chief, who, having been accus
tomed to flattery and gifts from all sides, was all at
once made too sensible that it was from war he
derived his importance. Now she equally blamed
the universal trepidation, being confident in our
resources, and well knowing what useful allies the
Mohawks, ever hostile to the Canadian Indians,
might prove.
Never was our good aunt more consulted or
more respected. Sir Jeffrey Amherst planned at
Albany an expedition to be commanded by General
Bradstreet, for which both New York and New
England raised corps of provincials.

Chapter XV

DEATH OF CAPTAIN DALYELL — MADAME —
HER PROTfiGfiS
MEANTIME an express arrived with the
afflicting news of the loss of a captain and
twenty men of the 55th regiment. The name of
this lamented officer was Dalziel,^ of the Carnwath
family. Colonel Beckwith had sent for a reinforce
ment. This Major Duncan hesitated to send, till
better informed as to the mode of conveyance.
Captain Dalziel volunteered going. I cannot ex
actly say how they proceeded; but, after having
penetrated through the woods till they were in
sight of Detroit, they were discovered and attacked
by a party of Indians, and made their way with
the utmost difficulty, after the loss of their com
mander and the third part of their number.
Major Duncan's comprehensive mind took in
everything that had any tendency to advance the
1 This was Captain Jaraes Dalyell, ofthe 2d battalion ofthe Royals,
who perished In a brave but Indiscreet attack on the Indians soon after
his arrival at Detroit, August 31, 1763. He marched out with 247
men, Intending to surprise the enemy about three miles from the fort,
but was himself surprised and killed. See IV "Munsell's Hist.
Series," 54, 56, et seq. ; also a biographical sketch " Colonial Hist.
N. Y.," VI, 547 ; "Parkman's Pontiac," 275.

io8 MEMOIRS OF
general good, and cement old alliances. He saw
none of the Hurons, whose territories lay far above
Ontario, but those tribes whose course of hunting
or fishing led them to his boundaries, were always
kindly treated. He often made them presents of
ammunition or provision, and did everything in
his power to conciliate them. Upon hearing of the
outrage which the Hurons^ had been guilty of, the
heads of the tribe, with whom the major had culti
vated the greatest intimacy, came to assure him of
their good wishes and hearty co-operation. He
invited them to come with their tribe to celebrate
the birth-day of the new king (his present majesty),
which occurred a few days after, and there solemnly
renew, with the usual ceremonies, the league offen
sive and defensive made between their fathers and
the late king. They came accordingly in their best
arms and dresses, and assisted at a review, and at
a kind of feast given on the occasion, on the outside
of the fort. The chief and his brother, who were
two fine noble looking men, were invited in to dine
with the major and officers. When they arrived,
and were seated, the major called for a glass of
wine to drink his sovereign's health ; this was
no sooner done, than the sachem's brother fell life
less on the floor. They thought it was a fainting
1 The author, perhaps, uses the term Huron, where that of Algon
quin would have been more correct. She does not recollect the dis
tinctive terms exactly, but applies the epithet, in general, to the Indians
who then occupied the banks of the Huron Lake, and the adjacent
country. — Mrs. Grant.

AN AMERICAN LADY 109
fit, and made use of the usual applications to
recover him, which to their extreme surprise proved
ineffectual. His brother looked steadily on while
all those means were using ; but when convinced
of their inefficacy, sat down, drew his mantle over
his face, sobbed aloud, and burst into tears. This
was an additional wonder. Through the traces of
Indian recollection no person had been known to
fall suddenly dead without any visible cause, nor any
warrior to shed tears. After a pause of deep silence,
which no one felt inclined to break, the sachem
rose with a collected and dignified air, and thus
addressed the witnesses of this affecting accident :
"Generous English, misjudge me not; though you
have seen me for once a child, in the day of battle
you will see a man, who will make the Hurons
weep blood, I was never thus before. But to
me my brother was all. Had he died in battle,
no look of mine would change. His nation would
honor him, but his foes should lament him. I see
sorrow in your countenances ; and I know you
were not the cause of my brother's death. Why,
indeed, should you take away a life that was de
voted to you ? Generous English, ye mourn for
my brother, and I will fight your battles." This
assurance of his confidence was very necessary to
quiet the minds of his friends ; and the concern
of the officers was much aggravated by the sus
picious circumstances attending his death so imme
diately after drinking the wine they had given him.

IIO MEMOIRS OF
The major ordered this lamented warrior to be
interred with great ceremony. A solemn proces
sion, mournful music, the firing of cannon, and
all other military honors, evinced his sympathy for
the living, and his respect for the dead; and the
result of this sad event, in the end, rather tended
to strengthen the attachment of those Indians to
the British cause.
I have given this singular occurrence a place in
these memoirs, as it serves to illustrate the calm
good sense and steady confidence, which made a
part of the Indian character, and added value to
their friendship when once it was fairly attended.
The 55th, which hadbeen under orders to return
home, felt a severe disappointment in being, for two
years more, confined to their sylvan fortresses.
These, however, they embellished, and rendered
comfortable, with gardens and farm-grounds, that,
to reside In them, could no longer be accounted a
penance. Yet, during the Indian war, they were,
from motives of necessary caution, confined to very
narrow limits ; which, to those accustomed to pur
sue their sports with all that wild liberty and wide
excursion peculiar to savage hunters, was a hard
ship of which we can have no idea. Restrained
from this unbounded license, fishing became their
next favorite pursuit, to which the lakes and rivers
on which these forts were built, afforded great
facility. Tempted by the abundance and excellence
of the productions of these copious waters, they

AN AMERICAN LADY

III

were led to endanger their health by their assiduity
in this amusement. Agues, the disease of all new
establishments, became frequent among them, and
were aggravated by the home-sickness. To this
they were more peculiarly liable ; as the regiment,
just newly raised before they embarked for America,
had quitted the bosom of their families, without
passing through the gradation of boarding-schools
and academies, as is usual in other countries.
What an unspeakable blessing to the inhabitants
were the parish schools of the north, and how much
humble worth and laborious diligence has been
found among their teachers. In those lowly sem
inaries boys not only attained the rudiments of
learning, but the principles of loyalty and genuine
religion, with the abatement of a small tincture of
idolatry ; of which their household gods were the
only objects. Never surely was a mode of educa
tion so calculated to cherish attachment to those
tutelar deities. Even the laird's son had often a
mile or two to walk to his day school ; a neigh
boring tenant's son carried the basket which con
tained his simple dinner ; and still as they went
along they were joined by other fellow-travellers In
the paths of learning. How cordial were those
intimacies, formed in the early period of life and of
the day, while nature smiled around in dewy fresh
ness ! How gladdening to the kind and artless
heart were these early walks through the wild
varieties of a romantic country, and among the

112 MEMOIRS OF
peaceful cottages of simple peasants,^ from whence
the Incense of praise, " In sounds by distance made
more sweet," rose on the morning breeze ! How
cheering was the mid-day sport, amid their native
burns and braes, without the confinement of a
formal play -ground ! How delightful the evening
walk homeward, animated by the consciousness of
being about to meet all that was dearest to the art
less and affectionate mind ! Thus the constitution
was improved with the understanding ; and they
carried abroad into active life, the rigid fibre of the
robust and hardy frame, and the warm and fond
affections of the heart, uncorrupted and true to its
first attachments. Never sure were youth's first
glowing feeling more alive than In the minds of
those young soldiers. From school they were
hurried into the greatest fatigues and hardships, and
the horrors of the most sanguinary war ; and from
thence transported to the depth of those central
forests, where they formed to themselves a Httle
world, whose greatest charm was the cherished
recollection of the simple and endeared scenes of
their childhood, and of the beloved relations whom
they had left behind, and to whom they languished
to return. They had not gone through the ordeal
1 The Scottish peasants, when they return to breakfast from their
early labors, always read a portion of Scripture, sing some part of a
psalra, and pray. This practice is too general, either to diminish
cheerfulness, or convey the idea of superior sanctity ; while the effect
of vocal rausic, rising at once frora so many separate dwellings, is very
impressive. — Mrs. Grant.

AN AMERICAN LADY 113
of the world, and could not cheer their exile by
retracing its ways, its fashions, or its amusements.
It is this domestic education, that unbroken series
of home joys and tender remembrances, that render
the natives of the north so faithful to their filial
and fraternal duties, and so attached to a bleak and
rugged region, excelled in genial warmth of climate,
and fertility of soil, in every country to which the
spirit of adventure leads them.
I was now restored to my niche at Aunt Schuy
ler's and not a little delighted with the Importance
which, in this eventful crisis, seemed to attach to
her opinions. The times were too agitated to ad
mit of her paying much attention to me : but I,
who took the deepest interest in what was going
on, and heard of nothing, abroad or at home, but
Indians, and sieges, and campaigns, was doubly
awake to all the conversation I heard at home.
The expedition proceeded under General Brad
street, while my father, recommended to his attention
by Madame, held some temporary employment about
mustering the troops. My friend had now the satisfac
tion of seeing her plans succeed In different instances.
Philip, since known by the title of General
Schuyler, whom I have repeatedly mentioned, had
now, in pursuance of the mode she pointed out to
him, attained to wealth and power ; both which
were rapidly increasing. His brother Cortlandt^
1 These were the sons of Johannes Schuyler, Jr. , and Cornelia Van
Cortlandt, and the nephews of Madarae Schuyler. General Philip,
VOL. II. — 8

114 MEMOIRS OF
(the handsome savage) who had, by her advice, gone
into the army, was returned from Ireland, the com
mander of a company ; ^ and married to a very
pleasing and estimable woman, whose perpetual
vivacity and good humor threw a ray of light over
the habitual reserve of her husband ; who was
amiable in domestic life, though cold and distant In
his manner. They settled near the general, and
paid a degree of attention to Madame that showed
the filial tie remained in full force.
The colonel, as he was then called, had built
a house near Albany,^ in the English taste, com
paratively magnificent, where his family resided,
and where he carried on the business of his depart
ment. Thirty miles or more above Albany, in
the direction of the Flats, and near the far-famed
Saratoga, which was to be the scene of his future
triumph, he had another establishment.^ It was
here that the colonel's political and economical
genius had full scope. He had always the com-
born 1733, died 18 November, 1804, aged 71, distinguished by his
revolutionary services, which have been made the subject of two vol
umes by Benson J. Lossing.
1 She was an Irish lady whose first name was Barbara. After the
death of her husband and eldest son, she returned to Ireland with her
younger children ; and it Is said, that sorae of her descendants bearing
the name of Schuyler are yet (1901) living in the Emerald Isle.
2 This house, still standing at the head of Schuyler Street, is said
to have been built by General Bradstreet.
' The place is now known as Schuylerville. The land had been
in the family nearly a century, when Burgoyne occupied the house,
built on the site of the one burned by the French in 1745, for his
headquarters both on his advance and retreat.

AN AMERICAN LADY 115
mand of a great number of those workmen who
were employed In public buildings, etc. Those
were always in constant pay ; it being necessary
to engage them in that manner, and were, from
the change of seasons, the shutting of the ice,
and other circumstances, months unemployed. All
these seasons, when public business was interrupted,
the workmen were employed in constructing squares
of buildings in the nature of barracks, for the pur
pose of lodging artisans and laborers of all kinds.
Having previously obtained a large tract of very
fertile lands from the crown, on which he built
a spacious and convenient house ; he constructed
those barracks at a distance, not only as a nursery
for the arts which he meant to encourage, but as
the materials of a future colony, which he meant
to plant out around him. He had here a number
of negroes well acquainted with felling of trees and
managing saw-mills ; of which he erected several.
And while these were employed in carrying on
a very advantageous trade of deals and lumber,
which were floated down on rafts to New York,
they were at the same time clearing the ground for
the colony the colonel was preparing to establish.
This new establishment was an asylum for every
one who wanted bread and a home : from the
variety of employments regularly distributed, every
artisan and laborer found here lodging and occu
pation : some hundreds of people. Indeed, were
employed at once. Those who were in winter

ii6 MEMOIRS
engaged at the saw-mills, were in summer equally
busied at a large and productive fishery. The arti
sans got lodging and firing for two or three years,
at first, besides being well paid for everything they
did. Flax was raised, and dressed, and finally spun
and made into linen there ; and as artisans were
very scarce in the country, every one sent linen
to weave, flax to dress, etc., to the colonel's colony.
He paid them liberally ; and having always abun
dance of money in his hands, could afford to be
the loser at first, to be amply repaid in the end.
It is inconceivable what dexterity, address, and
deep policy were exhibited in the management of
this new settlement; the growth of which was
repaid beyond belief. Every mechanic ended in
being a farmer, that is a profitable tenant to the
owner of the soil ; and new recruits of artisans
from the north of Ireland chiefly supplied their
place, nourished with the golden dews which this
sagacious projector could so easily command. The
rapid increase and advantageous result of this es
tablishment were astonishing. 'T is impossible for
my imperfect recollection to do justice to the capac
ity displayed in these regulations. But I have thus
endeavored to trace to its original source that wealth
and power which became, afterwards, the means of
supporting an aggression so formidable.

Chapter XVI
MADAME'S POPULARITY— EXCHANGE OF
PRISONERS
IN the front of Madame's house was a portico,
towards the street. To this she was supported,
in fine evenings, when the whole town were enjoy
ing themselves on their respective seats of one kind
or other. To hers there were a few steps of ascent,
on which we used humbly to seat ourselves ; while
a succession of " the elders of that city " paid their
respects to Madame, and conversed with her by
turns. Never was levee better attended. "Aunt
Schuyler is come out," was a talismanic sentence
that produced pleasure in every countenance, and
set every one in motion who hoped to be well re
ceived : for, as I have formerly observed, aunt
knew the value of time much too well to devote It
to every one. We lived all this time next door to
her, and were often of these evening parties.
The Indian war was now drawing to a close, after
occasioning great disquiet, boundless expense, and
some bloodshed. Even when we had the advantage
which our tactics and artillery in some instances
gave, it was a warfare of the most precarious and

ii8 MEMOIRS OF
perplexing kind. It was something like hunting in
a forest at best ; could you but have supposed the
animals you pursued armed with missile weapons,
and ever ready to start out of some unlooked for
place. Our faithful Indian confederates, as far as I
can recollect, were more useful to us on this occasion
than all the dear bought apparatus, which we col
lected for the purpose of destroying an enemy too
wise and too swift to permit us to come in sight of
them ; or, if determined to attack us, sufficiently
dextrous to make us feel before we saw them. We
said, however, that we conquered Pontiac, at which
no doubt he smiled ; for the truth of the matter
was, the conduct of this war resembled a protracted
game of chess. He was as little able to take our
forts, without cannon, as we were able without the
feet, the eyes, and the instinctive sagacity of Indians,
to trace them to their retreats. After delighting
ourselves for a long while with the manner in which
we were to punish Pontiac's presumption, " could we
but once catch him" all ended in our making a treaty,
very honorable for him, and not very disadvanta
geous to ourselves. We gave both presents and
promises, and Pontiac gave — permission to the
mothers of those children who had been taken away
from the frontier settlements to receive them back
again, on condition of delivering up the Indian
prisoners. The joyful day when the congress was held for
concluding peace I never shall forget. Another

AN AMERICAN LADY 119
memorable day is engraven in indelible characters
upon my memory. Madame, being deeply inter
ested in the projected exchange, brought about a
scheme for having it take place at Albany, which
was more central than any other place, and where
her Influence among the Mohawks could be of use in
getting intelligence about the children, and sending
messages to those who had adopted them, and who,
by this time, were very unwilling to part with them.
In the first place because they were growing very
fond of them ; and again, because they thought the
children would not be so happy in our manner of
life, which appeared to them both constrained and
effeminate. This exchange had a large retrospect.
For ten years back there had been, every now and
then, while these Indians were in the French interest,
ravages upon the frontiers of the different provinces.
In many Instances these children had been snatched
away while their parents were working in the fields,
or after they were killed. A certain day was ap
pointed, on which all who had lost their children,
or sought those of their relations, were to come to
Albany in search of them ; where, on that day, all
Indians possessed of white children were to present
them. Poor women, who had travelled some hun
dred miles from the back settlements of Pennsyl
vania and New England, appeared here, with anxious
looks and aching hearts, not knowing whether their
children were alive, or how exactly to identify them
if they should meet them. I observed these appre-

I20 MEMOIRS OF
hensive and tender mothers were, though poor
people, all dressed with peculiar neatness and atten
tion, each wishing the first impression her child
should receive of her might be a favorable one.
On a gentle slope near the fort, stood a row of
temporary huts, built by retainers to the troops;
the green before these buildings was the scene of
these pathetic recognitions ; which I did not fail to
attend. The joy of even the happy mothers was
overpowering, and found vent In tears ; but not like
the bitter tears of those who, after long travel, found
not what they sought. It was affecting to see the
deep and silent sorrow of the Indian women, and
of the children, who knew no other mother, and
clung fondly to their bosoms, from whence they were
not torn without the most piercing shrieks ; while
their own fond mothers were distressed beyond
measure at the shyness and aversion with which
these long lost objects of their love received their
caresses. I shall never forget the grotesque figures
and wild looks of these young savages ; nor the
trembling haste with which their mothers arrayed
them in the new clothes they had brought for them,
as hoping that, with the Indian dress, they would
throw off their habits and attachments. It was In
short a scene impossible to describe, but most affect
ing to behold. Never was my good friend's con
siderate liberality and useful sympathy more fully
exerted than on this occasion, which brought so
many poor travellers from their distant homes on

AN AMERICAN LADY 121
this pilgrimage to the shrine of nature. How many
traders did she persuade to take them gratis in their
boats ! How many did she feed and lodge ! and
in what various ways did she serve or make others
serve them all. No one indeed knew how to refuse
a request of Aunt Schuyler, who never made one for
herself

Chapter XVII
RETURN OF THE 55TH REGIMENT TO EUROPE
— PRIVATES SENT TO PENSACOLA
THE 55th now left their calm abodes amidst
their lakes and forests, with the joy of chil
dren breaking up from their school ; little aware that
they were bidding adieu to quiet, plenty and free
dom, and utter strangers to the world, into which
they were about to plunge. They all came down
to Albany. Captain Mungo Campbell was charmed
to find me so familiar with his Milton ; while I was
equally charmed to find him a favorite with Aunt
Schuyler, which was with me the criterion of merit.
Colonel Duncan, for such he was now, marched
proudly at the head of his pupils, whom he had
carried up raw youths, but brought back with all
the manly and soldierly openness of manner and
character that could be wished, and with minds
greatly improved. Meanwhile Madame's counsels
had so much influence on my father, that he began
seriously to think of settling in America. To part
with his beloved 55th was very trying; yet his pros
pects of advantage in remaining among a people by
whom he was esteemed, and to whom he had really

AN AMERICAN LADY 123
become attached, were very flattering ; for by the
aid of aunt and the old inhabitants, and friendly
Indians, who were at her powerful bidding, he could
expect to get advantageously some lands which
he, in common with other officers who served in
America, was entitled to. He, having a right to
apply for the allotted quantity wherever he found it
vacant, that is, in odd unoccupied places, between
different patents, which it required much local knowl
edge of the country to discover, had greatly the
advantage of strangers ; because he could get in
formation of those secluded spots here and there
that were truly valuable ; whereas other officers be
longing to regiments disbanded in the country, either
did not find It convenient to go to the expense of
taking out a patent and surveying the lands, and so
sold their rights for a trifle to others ; or else half a
dozen went together, and made a choice, generally
an Injudicious one, of some large tract of ground,
which would not have been so long unsolicited had
it been of real value. My father bought the rights
of two young officers who were in a hurry to go to
Europe, and had not perhaps wherewithal to go
through the necessary forms used to appropriate a
particular spot, the expense ofthat process being con
siderable. Accordingly he became a consequential
landholder, and had his half-pay to boot.
The 55 th were now preparing to embark for that
home which they regarded with enthusiasm ; this
extended to the lowest ranks, who were absolutely

124 MEMOIRS OF
home-sick. They had, too, from the highest to
the lowest, been enabled, from their unexpensive
mode of living, to lay up some money. Never was
there a body of men more uncorrupted and more
attached to each other. Military men contract a
love of variety in their wandering manner of life,
and always imagine they are to find some enjoyment
in the next quarters that they have not had In this ;
so that the order for march is generally a joyful
summons to the younger officers at least. To these
novices, who, when they thought the world of va
riety, glory, and perferment was open before them,
were ordered up into the depth of unexplored
forests, to be kept stationary for years without
even the amusement of a battle, it was sufficiently
disappointing. Yet afterwards I have been told
that, in 'all the changes to which this hapless regi
ment was subjected, they looked back on the years
spent on the lakes as the happiest of their lives.
My father parted with them with extreme regret,
but he had passed the Rubicon ; that is to say, taken
out his patent, and stay he must. He went how
ever to New York with them, and here a very un
expected scene opened. Many of the soldiers who
had saved little sums had deposited them In my
father's hands, and, when he gave every one his
own at New York, he had great pleasure in seeing
their exultation, and the purchases they were mak
ing. When, all of a sudden, a thunderbolt burst
among these poor fellows, in the shape of an order

AN AMERICAN LADY

125

to draft the greatest part of them to Pensacola : to
renew regiments who, placed on a bar of burning
sand, with a salt marsh before and a swamp behind
were lingering out a wretched and precarious exist
ence, daily cut short by disease in some new in
stance. Words are very inadequate to give an idea
ofthe horror that pervaded this band of veterans.
When this order was most unexpectedly read at the
head of the regiment, it was worse to the most of
them than a sentence of immediate death; they were
going to a dismal and detested quarter, and they
were going to become part of a regiment of no
repute ; whom they themselves had held in the
utmost contempt when they had formerly served
together. The officers were not a little affected by
this cruel order, to part with the brave well dis
ciplined men ; who, by their singular good conduct,
and by the habits of sharing with their officers in
the chase, and in their agricultural amusements,
fishing-parties, etc., had acquired a kindly nearness
to them not usually subsisting between those who
command and they who must implicitly obey.
What ties were broken ! what hopes were blasted
by this fatal order ! These sad exiles embarked for
Pensacola at the same time that their comrades set
out for Ireland. My father returned, sunk in the
deepest sadness, which was increased by our place
of abode ; for we had removed to the forsaken fort,
where there was no creature but ourselves and three
or four soldiers who chose to stay in the country.

126 MEMOIRS OF
and for whom my father had procured their dis
charge. I was in the meantime more intimate than ever
at Aunt Schuyler's ; attracted not only by her kind
ness, but my admiration for Mrs. Cuyler, and at
tachment for her lovely little girl. The husband
of the former was now returned from his West
India voyage, and they retired to a house of their
own, meaning to succeed to that business which the
mayor, now wealthy and infirm, was quitting.
Cortlandt Schuyler, the general's brother, and his
sprightly agreeable wife, were now, as well as the
couple formerly mentioned, frequent visitors at
aunt's, and made a very pleasing addition to her
familiar circle. I began to be considered as almost
a child of the family, and Madame took much pains
In instructing me, hoping that I would continue
attached to her, and knowing that my parents
were much flattered by her kindness, and fully con
scious of the advantages I derived from it. With
her aid my father's plan of proceeding was fully
digested. He was to survey and locate his lands
(that was the phrase used for such transactions),
and at leisure (as the price of lands was daily rising),
to let them out on lease. He was to reserve a good
farm for himself, but not to reside upon it till the
lands around it were cultivated ; and so many set
tlers gone up as would make the district in a degree
civilized and populous ; a change which was like to
take place very rapidly, as there were daily emigra-

AN AMERICAN LADY 127
tions to that neighborhood, which was become a
favorite rallying point, on account of a flourishing
and singularly well conducted settlement which I
have already mentioned, under the auspices of
Colonel Schuyler in this quarter.

Chapter XVIII
PROPERTY AT CLARENDON — VISIONARY PLANS
MY father went up in summer with a retinue
of Indians, and disbanded soldiers, etc,
headed by a land-surveyor. In that country, men
of this description formed an important and distinct
profession. They were provided with an apparatus
of measuring-chains, tents, and provisions. It was
upon the whole an expensive expedition ; but this
was the less to be regretted as the object proved
fully adequate. Never was a location more fertile
or more valuable, nor the possessor of an estate
more elated with his acquisition : a beautiful stream
passed through the midst of the property ; beyond
its limits on one side rose a lofty eminence covered
with tall cedar, which being included in no patent,
would be a common good, and offered an inexhaust
ible supply of timber and firing after the lands should
be entirely cleared. This sylvan scene appeared,
even in its wild state, to possess singular advan
tages : it was dry lying land without the least par
ticle of swamp, great part of it was covered with
chestnuts, the sure indication of good wheat-land,
and the rest with white oak, the never-failing fore-

AN AMERICAN LADY 129
runner of good Indian corn and pasture. The
ground, at the time of the survey, was in a great
measure covered with strawberries, the sure sign of
fertility. And better and better still, there was, on
a considerable stream which watered this region of
benediction, a beaver-dam, that was visibly of at
least fifty years standing. What particular addition
our overflowing felicity was to derive from the
neighborhood of these sagacious buildings, may
not be easily conjectured. It was not their society,
for they were much too wise to remain in our vicin
ity, nor yet their example, which, though a very
good one, we were scarce wise enough to follow.
Why then did we so much rejoice over the dwell
ing of these old settlers? Merely because their
industry had saved us much trouble : for, in the
course of their labors, they had cleared above thirty
acres of excellent hay-land ; work which we should
take a long time to execute, and not perform near
so well ; the truth was, this industrious colony, by
whose previous labor we were thus to profit, were
already extirpated, to my unspeakable sorrow, who
had been creating a heaver Utopia ever since I
heard of the circumstance. The protection I was
to afford them, the acquaintance I was to make with
them, after conquering the first shyness, and the
delight I was to have in seeing them work, after
convincing them of their safety, occupied my whole
attention, and helped to console me for the drafting
ofthe 55th, which I had been ever since lamenting.
VOL. II. — 9

I30 MEMOIRS OF
How buoyant is the fancy of childhood ! I was
mortified to the utmost to hear there were no
beavers remaining; yet the charming, though
simple, description my father gave us of this " vale
of bliss," which the beavers had partly cleared, and
the whole Township of Clarendon (so was the new
laid out territory called), consoled me for all past
disappointments. It is to be observed that the
political and economical regulations of the beavers
make their neighborhood very desirable to new
settlers. They build houses and dams with un
wearied industry, as every one that has heard of
them must needs know ; but their unconquerable
attachment to a particular spot is not so well known ;
the consequence is, that they work more, and of
course clear more land in some situations than in
others. When they happen to pitch upon a stream
that overflows often in spring, it is apt to carry
away the dam, formed of large trees laid across the
stream, which it has cost them unspeakable pains
to cut down and bring there. Whenever these are
destroyed they cut down more trees and construct
another ; and, as they live all winter on the tender
twigs from the underwood and bark which they
strip from poplar and alder, they soon clear these
also from the vicinity. In the day-time they either
mend their houses, lay up stores in them, or fish,
sitting upon their dams made for that purpose.
The night they employ in cutting down trees,
which they always do so as to make them fall

AN AMERICAN LADY 131
towards the stream, or in dragging them to the
dam. Meanwhile they have always sentinels placed
near to give the alarm, in case of any intrusion. It is
hard to say when these indefatigable animals refresh
themselves with sleep. I have seen those that have
been taken young and made very tame, so that they
followed their owner about ; even in these the in
stinct which prompts their nocturnal labors was
apparent. Whenever all was quiet they began to
work. Being discontented and restless, if confined,
it was usual to leave them in the yard. They
seemed in their civilized, or rather degraded state,
to retain an idea that it was necessary to convey
materials for building to their wonted habitation.
The consequence was, that a single one would carry
such quantities of wood to the back door, that you
would find your way blocked up in the morning to
a degree almost incredible.
Being very much inclined to be happy, and
abundant In resources, the simple felicity which was
at some future period to prevail among the amiable
and Innocent tenants we were to have at Clarendon,
filled my whole mind. Before this flattering vision,
all painful recollections, and even all the violent
love which I had persuaded myself to feel for my
native Britain, entirely vanished.
The only thing that disturbed me, was Aunt
Schuyler's age, and the thoughts of outliving her,
which sometimes obtruded among my day dreams
of more than mortal happiness. I thought all this

132 MEMOIRS OF
could scarce admit of addition ; yet a new source
of joy was opened, when I found that we were
actually going to live at the Flats. The spot, ren
dered sacred by the residence of aunt, where I
should trace her steps wherever I moved, dwell
under the shadow of her trees, and, in short, find
her in everything I saw. We did not aspire to
serious farming, reserving that effort for our own
estate, of which we talked very magnificently, and
indeed had some reason, it being as valuable as so
much land could be ; and from its situation in
a part of the country which was hourly acquiring
fresh inhabitants, its value daily increased, which
consideration induced my father to refuse several
offers for it; resolved either to people it with
highland emigrants, or retain it in his own hands
till he should get his price.
Sir Henry Moore, the last British governor of
New York that I remember, came up this summer
to see Albany, and the ornament of Albany —
Aunt Schuyler ; he brought Lady Moore and his
daughter with him. They resided for some time
at General Schuyler's, I call him so by anticipa
tion ; for sure I am, had any gifted seer foretold
then what was to happen, he would have been
ready to answer, " Is thy servant a dog, that he
should do this thing." Sir Harry, like many of
his predecessors, was a mere show governor, and
old Cadwallader Colden, the lieutenant governor,
continued to do the business, and enjoy the power

AN AMERICAN LADY 133
in its most essential branches, such as giving patents
for lands, etc. Sir Harry, in the meantime, had
never thought of business in his life ; he was honor
able as far as a man could be so, who always spent
more than he had ; he was, however, gay, good
natured, and well bred, affable and courteous in
a very high degree, and if the business of a gov
ernor was merely to keep the governed in good
humor, no one was fitter for that office than he,
the more so, as he had sense enough to know
two things of great importance to be known : one
was, that a person of tried wisdom and good experi
ence like Colden, was fitter to transact the business
of the province, than any dependant of his own :
the other, that he was totally unfit to manage it
himself. The government house was the scene
of frequent festivities and weekly concerts. Sir
Henry being very musical, and Lady Moore pecul
iarly fitted for doing the honors of a drawing-room
or entertainment. They were too fashionable, and
too much hurried to find time for particular friend
ships, and too good natured and well bred to make
invidious distinctions, so that, without gaining very
much either of esteem or affection, they pleased
every one in the circle around them ; and this
general civility of theirs, in the storm which was
about to rise, had its use,^ In the beginning,
before the tempest broke loose in all its fury, it
1 See Appletons' " Cyclopaedia of American Biography," vol. iv.,
and Wilson's "History of New York," vol. Ii.

134 MEMOIRS OF
was like oil poured on agitated waters, which pro
duces a temporary calm immediately round the
ship. As yet the storm only muttered at a dis
tance, but Madame was disturbed by anxious pre
sages. In her case,
" Old experience actually did attain
To something like prophetic strain,"
But it was not new to her to prophesy in vain.
I, for my part, was charmed with these exalted
visitors of aunt's, and not a little proud of their
attention to her, not knowing that they showed
pretty much the same attention to every one.
While I was dancing on air with the thoughts
of going to live at the Flats, of the beauties of
Clarendon, and many other delights which I had
created to myself, an event took place that plunged
us all in sorrow ; it was the death of the lovely
child Catalina, who was the object of much fond
ness to us all, for my parents, bating the allowance
to be made for enthusiasm, were as fond of her
as I was ; Madame had set her heart very much
on this engaging creature; she mustered up all
her fortitude to support the parents of her departed
favorite, but suffered much notwithstanding. Here
began my acquaintance with sorrow. We went,
however, to the Flats in autumn. Our family con
sisted of a negro girl, and a soldier, who had
followed my father's fortunes from Scotland, and
stuck to him through every change. We did not

AN AMERICAN LADY 135
mean to farm, but had merely the garden, orchard,
and enclosure for hay, two cows, a horse for my
father, and a colt, which, to my great delight, was
given me as a present. Many sources of comfort
and amusement were now cut off from Madame,
her nephew and his lively and accomplished wife
had left her, Dr, Ogilvie was removed to New York,
and had a successor no way calculated to supply
his place. This year she had lost her brother-in-
law Cornelius Cuyler,^ whose sound sense and in
telligence made his society of consequence to her,
1 This estimable character had for the space of forty years (which
included very important and critical conjunctures) been chief magis
trate of Albany, and Its district. A situation calculated to demand the
utmost integrity and impartiality, and to exercise all the powers of a
mind, acute, vigilant, and comprehensive. The less he was araenable
to the control and direction of his superiors, the raore liable was he to
(he animadversions of his fellow citizens, had he In the least departed
from that rectitude which made him the object of their confidence and
veneration. He administered justice, not so much in conforraity to
written laws, as to that rule of equity within his own breast, the ap
plication of which was directed by sound sense. Improved by experi
ence. I by no means insinuate, that he either neglected or disobeyed
those laws, by which, in all doubtful cases he was certainly guided ;
but that the uncorrupted state of public morals, and the entire confi
dence which his fellow citizens reposed in his probity, rendered appeals
to the law, for the most part, superfluous. I have heard that the
family of the Cuylers was originally a Gerraan one of high rank.
Whether this can or cannot be ascertained, is of little consequence.
The sterling worth of their iraraediate ancestor, and his long and faith
ful services to the public, reflect raore honor on his descendants than
any length of pedigree. — Mrs. Grant. [Comelius Cuyler was an
Albany merchant, sorae years alderraan of the second ward, mayor of
Albany, comraissioner of Indian affairs, and held the office of magis
trate some time, which long service in various capacities led Mrs. Grant
to attribute to him forty years of chief magistracy.]

136 MEMOIRS OF
independent of the great esteem and affection she
had for him. The army, among whom she always
found persons of information and good breeding,
in whose conversation she could take pleasure
which might be truly called such, were gone.
Nothing could compensate, in her opinion, for
the privation of that enjoyment ; she read, but
then the people about her had so little taste for
reading, that she had not her wonted pleasure in
that, for want of some one with whom she could
discuss the topics suggested by her studies. It was
in this poverty of society such as she was accus
tomed to enjoy, that she took a fancy to converse
much with me, to regret my want of education,
and to take a particular interest in my employ
ments and mental improvement. That I might
more entirely profit by her attention, she requested
my parents to let me pass the winter with her;
this invitation they gladly complied with.
The winter at the Flats was sufficiently m elancholy,
and rendered less agreeable by some unpleasant
neighbors we had. These were a family from New
England, who had been preparing to occupy lands
near those occupied by my father. They had been
the summer before recommended to aunt's gener
ous humanity, as honest people, who merely wanted
a shelter in a room in her empty house, till they
should build a temporary hut on those new lands
which they were about to inhabit. When we came,
the time permitted to thera had long elapsed, but

AN AMERICAN LADY 137
my father, who was exceedingly humane, indulged
them with a fortnight more after our arrival, on
the pretence of the sickness of a child ; and there
they sat, and would not remove for the winter,
unless coercion had been used for that purpose.
We lived on the road side ; there was at that time
a perpetual emigration going on from the provinces
of New England to our back settlements. Our
acquaintance with the family who kept possession
beside us, and with many of even the better sort,
who came to bargain with my father about his
lands, gave us more insight than we wished into
the prevalent character of those people, whom we
found conceited, litigious, and selfish beyond meas
ure. My father was told that the only safe way
to avoid being overreached by them in a bargain,
was to give them a kind of tacit permission to sit
down on his lands, and take his chance of settling
with them when they were brought into some
degree of cultivation ; for if one did bargain with
them, the custom was to have three years free for
clearing, at the end of which, the rents or purchase
money was paid. By that time, any person who
had expended much labor on land, would rather
pay a reasonable price or rent for it, than be
removed. In the progress of his intercourse with these
very vulgar, insolent, and truly disagreeable people,
my father began to disrelish the thoughts of going
up to live among them. They flocked indeed so

138 MEMOIRS OF
fast, to every unoccupied spot, that their malignant
and envious spirit, their hatred of subordination,
and their indifference to the mother country, began
to spread like a taint of infection.
These illiberal opinions, which produced manners
equally illiberal, were particularly wounding to dis
banded officers, and to the real patriots, who had
consulted In former times the happiness of the
country, by giving their zealous cooperation to
the troops sent to protect it. These two classes
of people began now to be branded as the slaves
of arbitrary power, and all tendencies to elegance
or refinement were despised as leading to aristocracy.
The consequence of all this was, such an opposition
of opinions, as led people of the former description
to seek each other's society exclusively. Winter
was the only time that distant friends met there,
and to avoid the chagrin resulting from this dis
tempered state of society, veterans settled in the
country were too apt to devote themselves to
shooting and fishing, taking refuge from languor
in these solitary amusements.
We had one brave and royal neighbor, however,
who saw us often, and was "every inch a gentle
man ; " this was Pedrom,^ aunt's brother-in-law,
in whom lived the spirit of the Schuylers, and who
1 Pedrom' s residence was on the Krorame kil, near the late residence
of Robert Dunlop, opposite the cemetery. This crooked {kromme)
stream, which had formerly a considerable flow, has, like all the cur
rents from the neighboring hills, shrunk to a feeble brooklet, only
noticeable in time of freshet.

AN AMERICAN LADY 139
was our next neighbor and cordial friend. He was
now old, detached from the world, and too hard
of hearing, to be an easy companion : yet he had
much various information, and was endeared to us
by similarity of principle.
Matters were beginning to be in this state the
first winter I went to live with aunt. Her friends
were much dispersed ; all conversation was tainted
with politics, Cromwellian politics too, which of
all things, she disliked. Her nephew, Cortlandt
Schuyler, who had been a great Nimrod ever since
he could carry a gun, and who was a man of strict
honor and nice feehngs, took such a melancholy
view of things, and so little relished that stamp act,
which was the exclusive subject of all conversation,
that he devoted himself more and more to the
chase, and seemed entirely to renounce a society
which he had never greatly loved. As I shall not
refer to him again I shall only mention here, that
this estimable person was taken away from the evil
to come two years after, by a premature death,
being killed by a fall from his horse in hunting.
What sorrows were hid from his eyes by this timely
escape from scenes, which would have been to him
peculiarly wounding !
If Madame's comforts in society were diminished,
her domestic satisfactions were not less so. By the
time I came to live with her, Mariamat and Diana-
mat^ were almost superannuated, and had lost, in
1 Mat, or mater, mother or superior of the negroes.

I40 MEMOIRS OF
a great measure, the restraining power they used to
exercise over their respective offspring. Their
woolly heads were snow white, and they were
become so feeble, that they sat each in her great
chair at the opposite side of the fire ; their wonted
jealousy was now embittered to rancor, and their
love of tobacco greater than ever. They were
arrived at that happy period of ease and indolence,
which left them at full liberty to smoke and scold
the whole day long; this they did with such un
wearied perseverance, and in a manner so ludicrous,
that to us young people they were a perpetual
comedy. Sorely now did aunt lament the promise she had
kept so faithfully, never to sell any of the colonel's
negroes. There was so little to do for fourteen
persons, except the business they created for each
other, and it was so impossible to keep them from
too freely sharing the plenty of her liberal house,
that idleness and abundance literally began to
corrupt them.
All these privations and uneasinesses will in some
measure account for such a person as Madame
taking such pleasure in the society of an overgrown
child. But then she was glad to escape from dark
prospects and cross politics, to the amusement
derived from the innocent cheerfulness, natural to
that time of life. A passion for reading, and a
very comprehensive memory too, had furnished my
mind with more variety of knowledge, than fell to

AN AMERICAN LADY 141
the lot of those, who living in large families, and
sharing the amusements of childhood, were not,
like me, driven to that only resource. All this
will help to account for a degree of confidence and
favor, daily increasing, which ended in my being
admitted to sleep in a little bed beside her, which
never happened to any other. In the winter nights
our conversations often encroached on the earlier
hours of morning. The future appeared to her
dubious and cheerless, which was one reason, I
suppose, that her active mind turned solely on
retrospection. She saw that I listened with de
lighted attention to the tales of other times, which
no one could recount so well. These, too, were
doubly interesting, as, like the sociable angel's
conversation with our first father, they related to
the origin and formation of all I saw around me ;
they afforded food for reflection, to which I was
very early addicted, and hourly increased my ven
eration for her whom I already considered as my
polar star. The great love I had for her first gave
interest to her details ; and again, the nature of
these details increased my esteem for the narrator.
Thus passed this winter of felicity, which so much
enlarged my stock of ideas, that in looking back
upon it, I thought I had lived three years in one.

Chapter XIX
RETURN TO THE FLATS — SUMMER AMUSEMENTS
SUMMER came, and with it visitors, as usual,
to Madame from New York and other places ;
among whom, I remember, were her nieces Mrs.
L. and Mrs. C. I went to the Flats, and was, as
usual, kept very close to my needle-work ; but
though there was no variety to amuse me, summer
slid by very fast. My mind was continually occupied
with aunt, and all the passages of her life. My
greatest pleasure was to read over again the books
I had read to her, and recollect her observations
upon them. I often got up and went out to the
door to look at places where particular things had
happened. She spent the winter's nights in retro
spections of her past life ; and I spent the summer
days in retrospections of these winter nights. But
these were not my only pleasures. The banks of
the river and the opposite scenery delighted me ;
and, adopting all aunt's tastes and attachments, I
made myself believe I was very fond of Pedrom
and Susanna Muet, as the widow of Jeremiah was
called. My attention to them excited their kind
ness ; and the borrowed sentiment, on my part,

AN AMERICAN LADY 143
soon became a real one. These old friends were
very amusing. But then I had numberless young
friends, who shared my attention, and were in their
own way very amusing too. These were the objects
of my earliest cares in the morning, and my need
less solicitude all day. I had marked down In a
list, between thirty and forty nests of various kinds
of birds. It was an extreme dry summer; and I
saw the parent birds, whom I diligently watched,
often panting with heat, and, as I thought, fatigued.
After all I had heard and seen of aunt, I thought
it incumbent on me to be good and kind to some
being that needed my assistance. To my fellow-
creatures my power did not extend ; therefore I
wisely resolved to adapt my mode of beneficence to
the sphere of action assigned to me, and decided
upon the judicious scheme of assisting all these
birds to feed their young. My confederate Marian
(our negro girl), entered heartily into this plan ;
and it was the business of the morning, before tasks
commenced, to slaughter innumerable insects, and
gather quantities of cherries and other fruit for that
purpose. Portions of this provision we laid beside
every nest, and then applauded ourselves for saving
the poor birds' fatigue. This, from a pursuit, became
a passion. Every spare moment was devoted to
it, and every hour made new discoveries of the
nature and habits of our winged friends, which we
considered as amply recompensing our labors.
The most eager student of natural philosophy

144 MEMOIRS OF
could not be more attentive to those objects, or
more Intent on making discoveries. One sad dis
covery we made, that mortified us exceedingly.
The mocking-bird is very scarce and very shy in
this northern district. A pair came, however, to
our inexpressible delight, and built a nest in a very
high tree in our garden. Never was joy like ours.
At the imminent risk of our necks we made shift to
ascend to this lofty dwelling during the absence of
the owners ; birds we found none ; but three eggs
of a color so equivocal, that, deciding the point
whether they were green or blue, furnished matter of
debate for the rest ofthe day. To see these treasures
was delightful, and to refrain from touching them im
possible. One of the young we resolved to appro
priate, contrary to our general humane procedure;
and the next weighty affair to be discussed, was the
form and size of the cage which was to contain this
embryo warbler. The parents, however, arrived.
On examining the premises, by some mysterious
mode of their own, they discovered that their secret
had been explored, and that profane hands had
touched the objects of all their tenderness. Their
plaintive cries we too well understood. That whole
evening and all the next day they were busied in
the orchard ; while their loud lamentations, con
stantly reiterated, pierced us with remorse. We
soon saw the garden nest forsaken : and a Htde
further examination soon convinced us, that the
violated eggs had been transported to another.

AN AMERICAN LADY 145
where, however, they were not hatched; the deli
cate instincts, which directed these creatures to form
a new nest, and carry off their eggs, on finding they
had been handled, did not, at the same time, inform
them, that eggs carried away, and shaken by that
motion during the process of incubation, cannot
produce anything.
The great barn, which I formerly described,
afforded scope for our observations of this nature ;
and here we remarked a phenomenon, that I am
still at a loss to account for. In the highest part
of that spacious and lofty roof, multitudes of swal
lows, of the martin species, made their nests. These
were constructed of mud or clay as usual, and, in
the ordinary course of things, lasted, with some
repairs, from year to year. This summer, however,
being unusually hot and dry, the nests, in great
numbers, cracked and fell down on the floor, with
the young ones in them. We often found them in
this situation, but always found the birds in them
ahve and unhurt; and saw the old ones come to
feed them on the floor, which they did with such
eager confidence, that they often brushed so near as
to touch us. Now we could no other way account
for the nests always coming down with the birds
unhurt in them, but by supposing that the swallows
watched the fracture of the nests, and when they
saw them about to fall, came round the descending
fabric, and kept it in a kind of equilibrium. Of
these birds we stood in such profound awe, that we

146 MEMOIRS
never profited by the accident which put them in
our power ; we would not indeed, for any consider
ation, have touched them, especially after the sad
adventure of the mocking bird, which hung very
heavy upon our consciences.
Autumn came, and aunt came at the appointed
day, the anniversary of his death, to visit the tomb
of her beloved consort. This ceremony always
took place at that time. She concluded it with a
visit to us, and an earnest request for my returning
with her, and remaining the winter.

Chapter XX
MELANCHOLY PRESAGES — TURBULENCE OF THE
PEOPLE
THE conversations between my father and aunt
assumed a melancholy cast. Their hopes of
a golden age In that country (now that the flames
of war were entirely quenched) grew weaker. The
repeal ofthe stamp act occasioned excessive joy, but
produced little gratitude. The youth of the town,
before that news arrived, had abandoned their wonted
sports, and begun to amuse themselves with break
ing the windows and destroying the furniture of two
or three different people, who had, in succession,
been suspected of being stamp-masters in embryo.
My father grew fonder than ever of fishing and
shooting, because birds and fish did not talk of
tyranny or taxes. Sometimes we were refreshed by
a visit from some of aunt's nephews, the sons of the
mayor. They always left us in great good humor,
for they spoke respectfully of our dear king, and
dearer country. But this sunshine was transient ;
they were soon succeeded by Obadiah or Zephaniah,
from Hampshire or Connecticut, who came in with
out knocking; sat down without invitation; and

148 MEMOIRS OF
lighted their pipe without ceremony; then talked
of buying land ; and, finally, began a discourse on
politics, which would have done honor to Praise
God Barebones, or any of the members of his par
liament. What is very singular, is, that though the
plain-spoken and manly natives of our settlement
had a general dislike to the character of those liti
gious and loquacious pretenders, such are the in
consistencies into which people are led by party,
that they insensibly adopted many of their notions.
With Madame I was quite free from this plague.
None of that chosen race ever entered her door.
She valued time too much to devote it to a set of
people whom she considered as greatly wanting in
sincerity. I speak now of the Hampshire and
Connecticut people. In towns and at sea-ports the
old leaven had given way to that liberality which
was produced by a better education, and an inter
course with strangers. Much as aunt's loyal and
patriotic feelings were hurt by the new mode of
talking which prevailed, her benevolence was not
cooled, nor her mode of living changed.
I continued to grow in favor with aunt this winter;
for the best possible reasons, I was the only one of
the family that would sit still with her. The young
people in the house were by no means congenial
with her ; and each had a love affair in hand fast
ripening into matrimony, that took up all their
thoughts. Mr. H. our chaplain, was plausible,
but superficial, vain, and ambitious. He too was

AN AMERICAN LADY 149
busied in hatching a project of another kind. On
pretence of study, he soon retired to his room after
meals, dreading no doubt that aunt might be In
possession of Ithuriel's spear, or to speak without a
figure, might either fathom his shallowness or detect
his project. One of these discoveries he knew
would sink him in her opinion, and the other ex
clude him from her house. For my own part, I was
always puzzling myself to consider, why I did not
more love and reverence Mr. H,, who I took It for
granted must needs be good, wise, and learned;
for I thought a clergyman was all but inspired.
Thus thinking, I wondered why I did not feel for
Mr, H. what I felt for aunt in some degree; but
unfortunately Mr. H. was a true bred native of
Connecticut, which perhaps helped more than any
intuitive penetration to prevent any excess of ven
eration. Aunt and I read Burnet's memoirs and
some biography this winter, and talked at least over
much geography and natural history. Here indeed,
I was in some degree obliged to Mr. H. I mean
for a few lessons on the globe. He had too an
edition of Shakespeare. I have been trying but In
vain to recollect what aunt said of this. Not much
certainly, but she was much pleased with the Essay
on Man, etc. Yet I somehow understood that
Shakespeare was an admired author, and was not a
little mortified when I found myself unable to ap
preciate his merits. I suppose my taste had been
vitiated by bombast tragedies I had read at Colonel

I50 MEMOIRS OF
E's. I thought them grossly familiar, and very
inferior to Cato, whom aunt had taught me to ad
mire ; in short I was ignorant, and because I could
read Milton, did not know my own ignorance. I
did not expect to meet nature in a play, and there
fore did not recognize her. 'T is not to be con
ceived how I puzzled over Hamlet, or how his
assumed madness and abuse of Ophelia confounded
me. Othello's jealousy, and the manner in which he
expressed it, were quite beyond my comprehension,
I mention these things as a warning to other
young people not to admire by rote, but to wait
the unfolding of their own taste, if they would
derive real pleasure from the works of genius,
I rather imagine I was afraid aunt would think I
devoted too much time to what I then considered
as a trifling book. For I remember reading Hamlet
the third or fourth time, in a frosty night, by moon
light, in the back porch. This reiterated perusal
was not in consequence of any great pleasure it
afforded me ; but I was studiously laboring to dis
cover the excellence I thought it must needs con
tain ; yet with more diligence than success. Madame
was at this time, I imagine, foreseeing a storm, and
trying to withdraw her mind as much as possible
from earthly objects.
Forty years before this period, a sister of the de
ceased colonel had married a very worthy man of
the name of Wendell.^ He being a person of an
1 Jacob Wendell, a half-brother of Aunt Schuyler, settled in Boston
as a raerchant, and attained to a high position In business and civil life.

AN AMERICAN LADY 151
active, enterprising disposition, and possessing more
portable wealth than usually fell to the share of
the natives there, was induced to join some great
commercial company near Boston, and settled there.
He was highly prosperous and much beloved, and
for a while cultivated a constant commerce with the
friends he left behind. When he died, however,
his wife, who was a meek, benevolent woman, with
out distrust, and a stranger to business, was very
ill-treated : her sons, who had been married in
the country, died. Their connections secured the
family property for their children. In the primi
tive days of New York, a marriage settlement was
an unheard of thing. Far from her native home,
having out-lived her friends, helpless and uncom
plaining, this good woman, who had lived all her
days in the midst of deserved affluence and affec
tion, was now stripped by chicanery of all her
rights, and sinking into poverty without a friend
or comforter. Aunt, immediately upon hearing
this, set on foot a negotiation to get Mrs, Wen
dell's affairs regulated, so that she might have the
means of living with comfort in a country in which
long residence had naturalized her ; or that falling,
to bring her home to reside with herself. Perhaps
in the whole course of her life, she had not experi
enced so much of the depravity of human nature as
this inquiry unfolded to her. The negotiation,
however, cheered and busied her at a time when
she greatly needed some exertion of mind to check

152 MEMOIRS OF
the current of thought produced by the rapid and
astonishing change of manners and sentiments
around her. But in our province there were two
classes of people who absolutely seemed let loose
by the demon of discord, for the destruction of
public peace and private confidence. One of these
was composed of lawyers, who multiplied so fast
that one would think they rose like mushrooms
from the earth. For many years one lawyer was
sufficient for the whole settlement. But the swarm
of these, which had made so sudden and portentous
an appearance, had been encouraged to choose that
profession, because a wide field was open for future
contention, merely from the candor and simplicity
of the last generation.
Not in the least distrusting each other, nor aware
of the sudden rise of the value of lands, these primi
tive colonists got large grants from government, to
encourage their efforts in the early stages of cultiva
tion ; these lands being first purchased, for some
petty consideration, from the Indians, who alone
knew the land marks of that illimitable forest.
The boundaries of such large grants, when after
wards confirmed by government, were distinguished
by the terms used by the Indians, who pointed
them out ; and very extraordinary marks they were.
For instance, one that I recollect. "We exchange
with our brother Cornelius Rensselaer, for so many
strouds, guns, etc., the lands beginning at the beaver
creek, going on northward, to the great fallen plane

AN AMERICAN LADY 153
tree, where our tribe slept last summer ; then east
ward, to the three great cedars on the hillock ; then
westward, strait to the wild duck swamp ; and strait
on from the swamp to the turn in the beaver creek
where the old dam was." ^
Such are the boundaries seriously described in
this manner, in one of the earliest patents. The
only mode, then existing, of fixing those vague
limits was to mark large trees which grew at the
corners of the property, with the owner's name
deeply cut, along with the date of the patent, etc.,
after blazing, that is to say, cutting deeply Into the
tree, for a plain space to hold this inscription.
In this primitive manner were all the estates in
the province bounded. Towards the sea this did
very well, as the patents, in a manner, bounded
each other ; and every one took care to prevent the
encroachments of his neighbor. But in the interior
people took great stretches of land here and there,
where there were not patented lands adjoining ;
there being no continuity of fertile ground except
on the banks of streams. The only security the
public had against these trees being cut down, or
others at a greater distance marked in their stead,
was a law which made such attempts penal. This
was a very nugatory threat ; it being impossible to
^ The boundless wilderness was thought to afford such an inex
haustible region for townships, doraains, settlements, farms, etc., that
boundaries were loosely described, whether for large or small tracts.
See note, vol. i. p. 56.

154 MEMOIRS OF
prove such an offence. Crimes of this nature en
croaching on the property of individuals, I believe,
rarely happened : but to enlarge one's boundary,
by taking in a little of King George's ground, to
use a provincial phrase, was considered as no great
harm ; and, besides, many possessed extensive tracts
of land unquestioned, merely on the strength of
Indian grants unsanctioned by government. One
in particular, the proudest man I ever knew, had a
law-suit with the king, for more land than would
form a German principality. Now that the inun
dation of litigious new settlers, from Massachusetts'
bounds, had awakened the spirit of inquiry, to call
it no worse, every day produced a fresh law-suit,
and all of the same nature, about ascertaining bound
aries. In one Instance, where a gentleman was sup
posed to be unfairly possessed of a vast tract of
fine land, a confederacy of British officers, I must
confess, questioned his right ; ^ applying beforehand
for a grant of such lands as they could prove the
possessor entitled to ; and contributing among them
a sum of money to carry on this 'great law-suit,
which having been given against them In the prov
ince, they appealed to the board of trade and plan
tations at home. Here the uncertainty of the law
1 After the conquest of Canada some British officers, wishing to
settle In the country, applied for a patent of lands in Claverack, N. Y.,
belonging to Col. John Van Rensselaer, father of General Schuyler's
wife. The lands had been in possession of the Van Rensselaers an
hundred and thirty years, secured to thera by purchase of the Indians,
and by royal patents. The application was eventually denied.

AN AMERICAN LADY 155
was very glorious indeed ; and hence, from the gain
ful prospect opening before them, swarms of petu
lant, half-educated young men, started one knew
not whence. And as these great law-suits were
matter of general concern, no one knowing whose
turn might be next, all conversation begun to be
infected with htigious cant; and everything seemed
unstable and perplexed.

Chapter XXI
SETTLERS OF A NEW DESCRIPTION — MADAME'S
CHAPLAIN
ANOTHER class of people contributed their
share to destroy the quiet and order of the
country. While the great army, that had now re
turned to Britain, had been stationed in America,
the money they spent there, had, in a great mea
sure, centred in New York, where many ephem
eral adventurers began to flourish as merchants,
who lived in a gay and even profuse style, and
affected the language and manners of the army on
which they depended. Elated with sudden pros
perity, those people attempted every thing that
could Increase their gains ; and, finally, at the com
mencement of the Spanish war, fitted out several
privateers, which, being sent to cruise near the
mouth of the gulf of Florida, captured several valu
able prizes. Money so easily got was as lightly
spent, and proved indeed ruinous to those who
shared it ; they being thus led to indulge in expen
sive habits, which continued after the means that
supplied them were exhausted. At the departure
of the army, trade languished among these new

North Pearl Street and the North Dutch Church about 1805

AN AMERICAN LADY 157
people ; their British creditors grew clamorous ;
the primitive inhabitants looked cold upon them ;
and nothing remained for them but that self-banish
ment, which, in that country, was the usual conse
quence of extravagance and folly, a retreat to the
woods. Yet, even in these primeval shades, there
was no repose for the vain and the turbulent. It
was truly amusing to see those cargoes of rusticated
fine ladies and gentlemen going to their new abodes,
all lassitude and chagrin ; and very soon after, to
hear of their attempts at finery, consequence, and
preeminence, in the late invaded residence of bears
and beavers. There, no pastoral tranquillity, no
sylvan delights awaited them. In this forced re
treat to the woods they failed not to carry with
them those household gods whom they had wor
shiped in town ; the pious ^neas was not more
careful of his Penates, nor more desirous of estab
lishing them In his new residence. These are the
persons of desperate circumstances, expensive habits,
and ambitious views ; who, like the " tempest-loving
raven," delight in changes, and anticipate, with
guilty joy, the overturn of states in which they have
nothing to lose, and have hopes of rising on the
ruins of others. The lawyers, too, foresaw that the
harvest they were now reaping from the new mode
of inquiry into disputed titles, could not be of long
duration. They did not lay a regular plan for the
subversion of the existing order of things ; but they
infected the once plain and primitive conversation

158 MEMOIRS OF
of the people with law jargon, which spread like a
disease, and was the more fatal to elegance, sim
plicity, and candor, as there were no rival branches
of science, the cultivation of which might have
divided people's attention with this dry contentious
theme. The spirit of litigation, which narrowed and
heated every mind, was a great nuisance to Ma
dame, who took care not to be much troubled with
it in conversation, because she discountenanced it
at her table, where, indeed, no petulant upstarts
were received. She was, however, persecuted with
daily references to her recollections with regard to
the traditionary opinions relative to boundaries, etc.
While she sought refuge in the peaceable precincts
ofthe gospel, from the tumultuous contests of the
law, which she always spoke of with dislike, she was
little aware that a deserter from her own camp was
about to join the enemy. Mr. H. our chaplain,
became, about this time, very reserved and absent ;
law and politics were no favorite topics in our
household, and these alone seemed much to interest
our divine. Many thought aunt was imposed on
by this young man, and took him to be what he
was not ; but this was by no means the case. She
neither thought him a wit, a scholar, nor a saint;
but merely a young man, who, to very good inten
tions and a blameless life, added the advantages of
a better education than fell to the lot of laymen
there ; simplicity of manners, and some powers of

AN AMERICAN LADY 159
conversation, with a little dash of the coxcomb, ren
dered tolerable by great good nature.
Vanity, however, was the rock on which our
chaplain split ; he found himself, among the circle
he frequented, the one-eyed king In the kingdom
of the blind ; and thought it a pity such talents
should be lost in a profession where, in his view of
the subject, bread and peace were all that was to be
expected. The first intelligence I heard was, that
Mr. H. on some pretence or other, often went to
the neighboring town of Schenectady, now rising
into consequence, and there openly renounced his
profession, and took out a license as a practising
lawyer. It is easy to conjecture how Madame
must have considered this wanton renunciation of
.the service of the altar for a more gainful pursuit,
aggravated by simulation at least ; for this seeming
open and artless character took all the benefit of
her hospitality, and continued to be her inmate the
whole time that he was secretly carrying on a plan
he knew she would reprobate. She, however,
behaved with great dignity on the occasion ; sup
posing, no doubt, that the obligations she had
conferred upon him, deprived her of a right to
reproach or reflect upon him. She was never after
heard to mention his name ; and when others did,
always shifted the conversation.
All these revolutions in manners and opinion
helped to endear me to aunt, as a pupil of her own
school ; while my tenacious memory enabled me to

i6o MEMOIRS OF
entertain her with the wealth of others' minds, ren
dered more amusing by the simplicity of my child
ish comments. Had I been capable of flattery, or
rather had I been so deficient in natural delicacy,
as to say what I really thought of this exalted char
acter, the awe with which I regarded her would have
deterred me from such presumption ; but as I really
loved and honored her, as virtue personified, and
found my chief happiness in her society and con
versation, she could not but be aware of this silent
adulation, and she became indeed more and more
desirous of having me with her. To my father,
however, I was now become, in some degree, neces
sary, from causes somewhat similar. He, too, was
sick of the reigning conversation ; and being ner
vous, and rather inclined to melancholy, began to
see things in the darkest light, and made the most
of a rheumatism, in Itself bad enough, to have a
pretext for indulging the chagrin that preyed upon
his mind, and avoiding his Connecticut persecutors,
who attacked him everywhere but in bed. A fit of
chagrin was generally succeeded by a fit of home
sickness, and that by a paroxysm of devotion ex
alted to enthusiasm ; during which all worldly
concerns were to give way to those of futurity.
Thus melancholy and thus devout I found my
father ; whose pure and upright spirit was corroded
with the tricks and chicanery he was forced to ob
serve in his new associates, with whom his singular
probity and simplicity of character rendered him

AN AMERICAN LADY i6i
very unfit to contend. My mother, active, cheer
ful, and constantly occupied with her domestic
affairs, sought pleasure nowhere, and found con
tent everywhere. I had begun to taste the luxury
of intellectual pleasures with a very keen relish.
Winter, always severe, but this year armed with
tenfold vigor, checked my researches among birds
and plants, which constituted my summer delights ;
and poetry was all that remained to me. While I
was, "in some diviner mood," exulting in these
scenes of inspiration, opened to me by the " human
izing muse," the terrible decree went forth, that I
was to read no more " idle books or plays." This
decree was merely the momentary result of a fit of
sickness and dejection, and never meant to be seri
ously enforced. It produced, however, the effect
of making me read so much divinity, that I fancied
myself got quite " beyond the flaming bounds of
space and time ; " and thought I could never relish
light reading more. In this solemn mood, my
greatest relaxation was a visit now and then to
aunt's sister-in-law, now entirely bedridden, but
still possessing great powers of conversation, which
were called forth by the flattering attention of a
child to one whom the world had forsaken. I
loved indeed play, strictly such, thoughtless, child
ish play, and next to that, calm reflection and dis
cussion. The world was too busy and too artful
for me ; I found myself most at home with those
who had not entered, or those who had left it.
VOL, II.— II

i62 MEMOIRS OF
My father's illness was much aggravated by the
conflict which began to arise in his mind regarding
his proposed removal to his lands, which were
already surrounded by a new population, consist
ing of these fashionable emigrants from the gay
world at New York, whom I have been describing,
and a set of fierce republicans, if anything sneaking
and drawling may be so called, whom litigious con
tention had banished from their native province,
and who seemed let loose, like Samson's foxes, to
carry mischief and conflagration wherever they went.
Among this motley crew there was no regular place
of worship, nor any Hkely prospect that there
should, for their religions had as many shades of
difference as the leaves of autumn ; and every man
of substance who arrived, was preacher and magis
trate to his own little colony. To hear their people
talk, one would think time had run back to the
days ofthe levellers. The settlers from New York,
however, struggled hard for superiority, but they
were not equal in chicane to their adversaries, whose
power lay in their cunning. It was particularly
hard for people who acknowledged no superior,
who had a thorough knowledge of law and scrip
ture, ready to wrest to every selfish purpose, it was
particularly hard, I say, for such all-sufficient per
sonages to hold their land from such people as my
father and others, of " King George's red coats,"
as they elegantly styled them. But they were
fertile in expedients. From the original establish-

AN AMERICAN LADY 163
ment of these provinces, the Connecticut river had
been accounted the boundary, to the east, of the
province of New York, dividing it from the adjoin
ing one ; this division was specified in old patents,
and confirmed by analogy. All at once, however,
our new tenants at will made a discovery, or rather
had a revelation, purporting, that there was a twenty
mile line, as they called it, which in old times had
been carried thus far beyond the Connecticut river,
into the bounds of what had ever been esteemed
the province of New York. It had become ex
tremely fashionable to question the limits of indi
vidual property, but for so bold a stroke at a whole
province, people were not prepared. The conse
quence of establishing this point was, that thus the
grants made by the province of New York, of
lands not their own, could not be valid ; and thus
the property, which had cost the owners so much
to establish and survey, reverted to the other
province, and was no longer theirs. This was so
far beyond all imagination, that though there ap
peared not the smallest likelihood of its succeeding,
as the plea must in the end be carried to Britain,
people stood aghast, and saw no safety in living
among those who were capable of making such
daring strides over all established usage, and ready,
on all occasions, to confederate where any advantage
was in view, though ever engaged In litigious con
tentions with each other in their original home.
This astonishing plea, during its dependence, af-

i64 MEMOIRS OF
forded these dangerous neighbors a pretext to con
tinue their usurped possession till it should be
decided to which province the lands really belonged.
They even carried their insolence so far, that when
a particular friend of my father's, a worthy, upright
man, named Munro,^ who possessed a large tract
of land adjoining to his ; when this good man, who
had established a settlement, saw-mills, etc., came
to fix some tenants of his on his lands, a body of
these incendiaries came out, armed, to oppose them,
trusting to their superior numbers and the peace
able disposition of our friend. Now, the fatal
twenty mile line ran exactly through the middle of
my father's property. Had not the revolution
followed so soon, there was no doubt of this claim
being rejected in Britain ; but in the meantime it
served as a pretext for daily encroachment and
insolent bravadoes. Much of my father's disorder
was owing to the great conflict of his mind. To
give up every prospect of consequence and afflu-
1 John Munro, who for several years was very troublesome to the
New Hampshire settlers, was a Scotchraan, a New York justice of the
peace, and resided in Shaftsbury, within a few rods of the New York
line. After the year 1772, the threats of the Green Mountain boys
appear to have kept him quiet ; but on the approach of Burgoyne In
1777 he joined the British, and his personal property in Vermont was
confiscated. He had been the agent of Duane, and from a desponding
letter which he wrote to the latter in 1786, it appears that he was on
his return to Canada from England, where he had been prosecuting his
claims on the British governraent for his services and losses as a loy
alist, without rauch success, and was retuming to his faraily, penniless,
and friendless, and appealed to his former friend and eraployer, for
sympathy and aid. See " Hiland Hill's Early History of Vermont."

AN AMERICAN LADY 165
ence, and return to Britain, leaving his property
afloat among these ungovernable people (to say no
worse of them), was very hard. Yet to live among
them, and by legal coercion force his due out of
their hands, was no pleasing prospect. His good
angel, it would seem in the sequel, whispered to
him to return. Though, in human prudence, it
appeared a fatal measure to leave so valuable a
property in such hands, he thought, that he would
stay two or three years; and then, when others
had vanquished his antagonists, and driven them
off the lands, which they, in the meantime, were
busily clearing, he should return with a host of
friends and kinsmen and form a chosen society of
his own. He however waited to see what change
for the better another twelvemonth might produce.
Madame, who was consulted on his plans, did not
greatly relish this ; he, at length, half promised
to leave me with her, till he should return from
this expedition.
Returning for a short time to town in spring I
found aunt's house much enlivened by a very agree
able visitor; this was Miss W., daughter to the
Honorable Mr. W., of the council.^ Her elder
1 Archibald Kennedy, captain in the royal navy, married, first,
Catharine, only child of Col. Peter Schuyler of New Jersey, by whom
he received a large fortune ; and, secondly, Anne, daughter of John
Watts, member of the King's Council. The mother of Miss Watts
was a Van Cortlandt, and related to Aunt Schuyler. Kennedy in the
Revolutionary War saved his large estate, returned to England, and
inherited the earldom of Cassllis. The sister of Anne Watts married

i66 MEMOIRS OF
sister was afterwards Countess of Cassllis, and she
herself was long afterwards married to the only
native of the continent, I believe, who ever suc
ceeded to the title of baronet. She possessed much
beauty, and understanding, and vivacity. Her
playful humor exhilarated the whole household.
I regarded her with admiration and delight ; and
her fanciful excursions afforded great amusement
to aunt, and were like a gleam of sunshine amidst
the gloom occasioned by the spirit of contention
which was let loose among all manner of people.
The repeal of the stamp act having excited new
hopes, my father found all his expectations of
comfort and prosperity renewed by this temporary
calm, and the proposed return to Britain was de
ferred for another year. Aunt, to our great joy,
as we scarce hoped she would again make so distant
a visit, came out to the Flats with her fair visitor,
who was about to return to New York. This
lady, after going through many of the hardships to
which persecuted loyalists were afterwards exposed,
with her husband, who lost an immense property
in the service of government, is now with her
family settled in Upper Canada, where Sir J . John
son has obtained a large grant of lands as a partial
retribution for his great losses and faithful service.
Aunt again requested and again obtained per
mission for me to pass some time with her; and
John Johnson, who on the death of his father. Sir William Johnson,
Bart., succeeded to the title. Sir John died in Montreal in 1830,

AN AMERICAN LADY 167
golden dreams of felicity at Clarendon, again began
to possess my imagination, I returned however
soon to the Flats, where my presence became more
important, as my father became less eager in pursuit
of field sports.

Chapter XXII
MODE OF CONVEYING TIMBER IN RAFTS DOWN
THE RIVER
I BROUGHT out some volumes of Shakespeare
with me, and, remembering the prohibition of
reading plays promulgated the former winter, was
much at a loss how to proceed. I thought righdy
that it was owing to a temporary fit of spleen.
But then I knew my father was, like all military
men, tenacious of his authority, and would possibly
continue it merely because he had once said so,
I recollected that he said he would have no plays
brought to the house; and that I read them un
checked at Madame's, who was my model in all
things. It so happened that the river had been
higher than usual that spring, and, in consequence,
exhibited a succession of very amusing scenes.
The settlers, whose increase above towards Still
water had been for three years past incredibly great,
set up saw-mills on every stream, for the purpose
of turning to account the fine timber which they
cleared in great quantities off the new lands. The
planks they drew in sledges to the side of the great
river ; and when the season arrived that swelled the

'.t %

View of Albany from Van Rensselaer Island

AN AMERICAN LADY 169
stream to its greatest height, a whole neighborhood
assembled, and made their joint stock into a large
raft, which was floated down the river with a man
or two on it, who with long poles were always ready
to steer it clear of those islands or shallows which
might impede its course. There is something
serenely majestic in the easy progress of those large
bodies on the fiill stream of this copious river.
Sometimes one sees a whole family transported
on this simple conveyance ; the mother calmly
spinning, the children sporting about her, and the
father fishing on one end, and watching its safety
at the same time. These rafts were taken down
to Albany, and put on board vessels there, for con
veyance to New York ; sometimes, however, it
happened that, as they proceeded very slowly, dry
weather came on by the time they reached the
Flats, and it became impossible to carry them
further ; in that case they were deposited in great
triangular piles opposite our door. One of these,
which was larger than ordinary, I selected for a
reading closet. There I safely lodged my Shake
speare ; and there in my play hours I went to
read it undisturbed, with the advantage of fresh
air, a cool shade, and a full view of the road on
one side, and a beautiful river on the other. While
I enjoyed undisturbed privacy, I had the pro
hibition full in my mind, but thought I should
keep to the spirit of it by only reading the histori
cal plays, comforting myself that they were true.

I70 MEMOIRS OF
These I read over and over with pleasure ever
new ; it was quite in my way, for I was familiarly
acquainted with the English history ; now, indeed,
I began to relish Shakespeare, and to be astonished
at my former blindness to his beauties. The con
tention of the rival roses occupied all my thoughts,
and broke my rest, " Wind-changing Warwick "
did not change oftener than I, but at length my
compassion for holy Henry, and hatred to Richard,
fixed me a Lancastrian, I began to wonder how
any body could exist without reading Shakespeare,
and at length resolved, at all risks, to make my
father a sharer in my new found felicity. Of the
nature of taste I had not the least idea ; so far
otherwise, that I was continually revolving benevo
lent plans to distribute some of the poetry I most
delighted in among the Bezalees and Habakkuks,
of the twenty mile line, I thought this would
make them happy as myself, and that when they
once felt the charm of " musical delight," the harsh
language of contention would cease, and legal quib
bling give way before the spirit of harmony. How
often did I repeat Thompson's description of the
golden age, concluding,
" For music held the whole in perfect peace,"
At home, however, I was in some degree successful.
My father did begin to take some interest in the
roses, and I was happy, yet kept both my secret
and my closet, and made more and more advances

AN AMERICAN LADY 171
in the study of these " wood notes wild," As you
like it, and the Midsummer Night's Dream enchanted
me; and I thought the comfort of my closet so
great, that I dreaded nothing so much as a flood,
that should occasion its being once more set in
motion, I was one day deeply engaged in com
passionating Othello, sitting on a plank, added on
the outside of the pile for strengthening it, when
happening to lift my eyes, I saw a long serpent
on the same board, at my elbow, in a threatening
attitude, with its head lifted up, Othello and I
ran off together with all imaginable speed ; and
as that particular kind of snake seldom approaches
any person, unless the abode of its young is Invaded,
I began to fear I had been studying Shakespeare
in a nest of serpents. Our faithful servant exam
ined the place at my request. Under the very
board on which I sat, when terrified by this un
wished associate, was found a nest with seven eggs.
After being most thankful for my escape, the
next thing was to admire the patience and good
humor of the mother of this family, who permitted
such a being as myself so long to share her haunt
with impunity. Indeed, the rural pleasures of this
country were always liable to those drawbacks ;
and this place was peculiarly infested with the
familiar garter-snake, because the ruins of the
burnt house afforded shelter and safety to these
reptiles.

Chapter XXIII
THE SWAMP— PATRICK COONIE
THIS adventure made me cautious of sitting
out of doors, yet I daily braved a danger
of the same nature, in the woods behind the house,
which were my favorite haunts, aud where I fre
quently saw snakes, yet was never pursued or
annoyed by them. In this wood, half a mile from
the house, was a swamp, which afforded a scene
so totally unlike any thing else, that a description
of It may amuse those who have never seen nature
in that primitive state.
This swamp, then, was in the midst of a pine
wood, and was surrounded on two sides by little
hills, some of which were covered with cedar, and
others with the silver fir, very picturesque, and
finely varied with shrubs, and every gradation of
green. The swamp sunk into a hollow, like a
large basin, exactly circular; round half of it, was
a border of maple, the other half was edged with
poplar.-" No creature ever entered this place In
1 From the southern border of this swarap issued a small brook
called the Vleykil, which emptied into the Kramkil, the southem
boundary of the old Schuyler farm. From the northern boundary of
the swamp issued another Vleykll which emptied into a creek called
the Steenbrookkil forming the northern bounds of the farm. The

AN AMERICAN LADY 173
summer, its extreme softness kept it sacred from
every human foot, for no one could go, without
the risk of being swallowed up ; different aquatic
plants grew with great luxuriance in this quag
mire, particularly bulrushes, and several beautiful
species of the iris, and the alder and willow ; much
of it, however, was open, and in different places the
water seemed to form stagnant pools ; in many
places large trees had fallen of old, which were
now covered with moss, and afforded a home to
numberless wild animals. In the midst of this
aquatic retreat, were two small islands of incon
ceivable beauty, that rose high above the rest,
like the oasis of the deserts, and were dry and safe
though unapproachable. On one of these, I re
member, grew three apple trees, an occurrence not
rare here ; for a squirrel, for instance, happens
to drop the seeds of an apple in a spot at once
sheltered and fertile ; at a lucky season, they grow
and bear, though with less vigor and beauty than
those which are cultivated. That beautiful fruit,
the wild plum, was also abundant on these little
sanctuaries, as they might be called, for, conscious
of impunity, every creature that flies the pursuit
of man, gambolled in safety here, and would allow
one to gaze at them from the brink of this natural
fortress. One would think a congress of birds and
animals had assembled here ; never was a spot
swamp was drained long since, and is now occupied In part by nurs
eries, flower gardens, country mansions, and a railroad track.

174 MEMOIRS OF
more animated and cheerful. There was nothing
like it in the great forests ; creatures here, aware
of their general enemy, man, had chosen it as their
last retreat. The black, the large silver grey, the
little striped, and nimble flying squirrel, were all
at home here, and all visible in a thousand fantastic
attitudes. Pheasants and woodpeckers in countless
numbers, displayed their glowing plumage, and the
songsters of the forest, equally conscious of their
immunity, made the marsh resound with their
blended music, while the fox, here a small auburn
colored creature, the martin, and racoons occa
sionally appeared and vanished through the foliage.
Often, on pretence of bringing home the cows in
the morning (when in their own leisurely way they
were coming themselves), I used to go, accompanied
by my faithful Marian, to admire this swamp, at
once a menagerie and aviary, and might truly say
with Burns, " My heart rejoic'd in nature's joys."
Not content, however, with the contemplation of
animated nature, I began to entertain a fancy, which
almost grew into a passion, for explaining
" Every herb that sips the dew."
The ordinary plants of that country differ very
much from those most frequent here ; and this thirst
for herbalizing, for I must dignify my humble
researches with the name of botanical ones, was a
pleasing occupation. I raade some progress in dis-

AN AMERICAN LADY 175
covering the names and natures of these plants, I
mean their properties ; but unfortunately they were
only Indian or Dutch names. This kind of knowl
edge, in that degree, is easily acquired there, because
every one possesses it in some measure. Nothing
surprised me so much, when I came to Britain, as to
see young people so incurious about nature.
The woods behind our dwelling had been thinned
to procure firing, and were more open and accessible
than such places generally are. Walking one fine
summer's evening, with my usual attendant, a little
further into the wood than usual, but far from any
known inhabitant, I heard peals of laughter, not
joyous only, but triumphant, issue from the bottom,
as it seemed, of a large pine. Silence succeeded, and
we looked at each other with a mixture of fear and
wonder, for It grew darkish. At last we made a
whispered agreement to glide nearer among the
bushes, and explore the source of all this merriment.
Twilight, solemn everywhere, is awful in these
forests; our awe was presently increased by the ap
pearance of a light, that glimmered and disappeared
by turns. Loud laughter was again reiterated, and
at length a voice cried, " How pretty he Is ! " while
another answered in softer accents, " See how the
dear creature runs ! " We crept on, cheered by
these sounds, and saw a handsome, good-natured
looking man, in a ragged provincial uniform, sitting
on a stump of a tree. Opposite, on the ground, sat
a pretty Uttle brunette woman, neatly though meanly

176 MEMOIRS OF
clad, with sparkling black eyes, and a countenance
all vivacity and delight. A very little, very fair
boy, with his mother's brilliant black eyes contrast
ing his flaxen hair and soft infantine complexion, went
with tottering steps, that showed this was his first
essay, from one to the other, and loud laughter grat
ulated his safe arrival in the arms of either parent.
We had now pretty clearly ascertained the family,
the next thing was to discover the house ; this point
was more difficult to establish ; at last, we found it
was barely a place to sleep in, partly excavated from
the ground, and partly covered with a slight roof
of bark and branches : never was poverty so com
plete or so cheerful. In that country, every white
person had inferiors, and therefore being merely
white, claimed a degree of respect, and being very
rich, or very fine, entitled you to very little more.
Simplicity would be a charming thing, if one could
strain it from grossness, but that, I believe is no
easy operation. We now, with much consideration
and civility, presented ourselves ; I thought the
cows would afford a happy opening for conversa
tion. " Don't be afraid of noise, we are driving our
three cows home ; have you any cows?" " Och no,
my dare child, not one, young miss," said the sol
dier. " O, but then mamma will give milk to the
child, for we have plenty and no child." "O dear
pretty miss, don't mind that at all, at all." " Come,"
said the mistress of the hovel, "we have got fine
butter-milk here, from Stephen's, come in and take

AN AMERICAN LADY 177
a drink," I civilly declined this invitation, being
wholly Intent on the child, who appeared to me like
a smiling love, and at once seized on my affection.
Patrick Coonie, for such was the name of our new
neighbor, gave us his history in a very few words ;
he had married Kate in Pennsylvania, who, young
as she looked, had three children, from ten to four
teen, or thereabouts ; he had some trade which had
not thriven, he listed in the provincials, spent what
he had on his family ; hired again, served another
campaign, came down penniless, and here they had
come for a temporary shelter, to get work among
their neighbors; the excavation existed before,
Patrick happily discovered it, and added the ingeni
ous roof which now covered it.^ I asked for their
other children ; they were in some mean service. I
was all anxiety for Patrick : so was not he ; the lilies
of the field did not look gayer, or more thoughtless
of to-morrow, and Kate seemed equally unconcerned.
Hastily were the cows driven home that night,
and to prevent reproaches for delay, I flew to com
municate my discovery. Eager to say how ill off
we often were for an occasional hand, to assist with
our jobs, and how well we could spare a certain ne
glected log-house on our premises, etc. This was
treated as very chimerical at first, but when Patrick's
* Ifit will gratify any one's curiosity to know where the site ofthe
humble cot of Patrick Coonie was located, it is pointed out as in the
now populous village of West Troy, and In the Immediate vicinity of
the residence of the late wealthy manufacturer James Roy.
VOL. II.— 12

178 MEMOIRS OF
family had undergone a survey, and Kate's accom
plishments of spinning, etc., were taken into consid
eration, to my unspeakable joy, the family were
accommodated as I wished, and their several talents
made known to our neighbors, who kept them In
constant business. Kate spun and sung like a lark,
little Paddy was mostly with us, for I taught every
one in the house to be fond of him.
I was at the utmost loss for something to cherish
and caress, when this most amusing creature, who
inherited all the gaiety and good temper of his
parents, came in my way, as the first of possible
playthings. Patrick was, of all beings, the most
handy and obliging ; he could do everything, but
then he could drink too, and the extreme cheapness
of liquor was a great snare to poor creatures addicted
to It; Patrick, however, had long lucid Intervals,
and I had the joy of seeing them comparatively
happy. To this was added, that of seeing my father
recover his spirits, and renew his usual sports, and
moreover, I was permitted to return to Aunt
Schuyler's. I did not fail to entertain her with the
history of my discovery, and its consequences, and
my tale was not told in vain. Aunt weighed and
balanced all things in her mind, and drew some
good out of everything.
White servants, whom very few people had, were
very expensive here ; but there was a mode of
meliorating things. Poor people who came adven
turers from other countries, and found a settlement

AN AMERICAN LADY 179
a slower process than they were aware of, had got
into a mode of apprenticing their children. No
risk attended this in Albany ; custom is all-power
ful ; and lenity to servants was so much the custom,
that to ill-use a defenceless creature in your power
was reckoned infamous, and was indeed unheard of
Aunt recommended the young Coonies, who were
fine well-looking children, for apprentices to some
of the best families in town, where they were well
bred and well-treated, and we all contributed decent
clothing for them to go home in, I deeply felt this
obligation, and little thought how soon I was to be
deprived of all the happiness I owed to the friend
ship of my dear benefactress. This accession occu
pied and pleased me exceedingly ; my attachment
to the little boy grew hourly, and I indulged it to a
degree I certainly would not have done, if I had not
set him down for one of the future inhabitants of
Clarendon ; that region of fancied felicity, where I
was building log-houses in the air perpetually, and
filling them with an imaginary population, innocent
and intelligent beyond comparison. These visions,
however, were soon destined to give way to sad
realities. The greatest immediate tribulation I was
liable to, was Patrick's coming home now and then
gay beyond his wonted gaiety ; which grieved me
both on Kate's account and that of little Paddy :
but in the fertile plains of Clarendon, remedies were
to be found for every passing evil ; and I had not
the least doubt of having influence enough to pre-

i8o MEMOIRS
vent the admission of spirituous liquors into that
" region of calm delights," Such were the dreams
from which I was awakened (on returning from a
long visit to aunt) by my father's avowing his fixed
intention to return home,
A very worthy Argyleshire friend of his, in the
meantime, came and paid him a visit of a month ;
which month was occupied in the most endearing
recollections of Lochawside, and the hills of Mor
ven. When I returned, I heard of nothing but the
Alpine scenes of Scotland, of which I had not the
smallest recollection ; but which I loved with bor
rowed enthusiasm : so well that they at times bal
anced with Clarendon. My next source of comfort
was, that I was to return to the land of light and
freedom, and mingle, as I flattered myself I should,
with such as those whom I had admired in their
immortal works. Determined to be happy, with
the sanguine eagerness of youth, the very oppo
site materials served for constructing another Ideal
fabric.

Chapter XXIV

MRS. SCHUYLER'S VIEW OF THE CONTINENTAL
POLITICS
AUNT was extremely sorry when the final
determination was announced. She had now
her good sister-in-law, Mrs. Wendell, with her, and
seemed much to enjoy the society of that meek,
pious woman, who was as happy as any thing
earthly could make her. As to public affairs their
aspect did not please her; and therefore she en
deavored, as far as possible, to withdraw her atten
tion from them. She was too well acquainted with
the complicated nature of human affairs, to give a
rash judgment on the political disputes then in agi
tation. She saw indeed reason for apprehension
whatever way she turned. She knew the prejudices
and self-opinion fast spreading through the country
too well, to expect quiet submission, and could see
nothing on all hands but a choice of evils. Were
the provinces to set up for themselves, she thought
they had not cohesion nor subordination enough
among them to form, or to submit to any salutary
plan of government. On the other hand she saw
no good effect likely to result from a reluctant

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dependence on a distant people, whom they already
began to hate, though hitherto nursed and protected
by them. She clearly foresaw that no mode of tax
ation could be invented to which they would easily
submit ; and that the defence of the continent from
enemies, and keeping the necessary military force to
protect the weak and awe the turbulent, would be a
perpetual drain of men and money to Great Britain,
still increasing with the increased population. In
short, she held all the specious plans that were
talked over very cheap ; while her affection for
Britain made her shudder at the most distant idea
of a separation ; yet not as supposing such a step
very hurtful to this country, which would be thus
freed of a very costly incumbrance. But the dread
of future anarchy, the horrors of civil war, and the
dereliction of principle which generally results from
tumultuary conflicts, were the spectres with which
she was haunted.
Having now once for all given (to the best of my
recollection) a faithful sketch of aunt's opinions on
this intricate subject, I shall not recur to them, nor
by any means attempt to enter into any detail of
the dark days that were approaching. First, because
I feel unspeakable pain in looking back upon occur
rences that I know too well, though I was not there
to witness ; in which the friends of my early youth
were greatly involved, and had much indeed to en
dure, on both sides. Next, because there is little
satisfaction in narrating transactions where there is

Fort Frederick, State Street, Albany, about 1765

AN AMERICAN LADY 183
no room to praise either side. That waste of per
sonal courage and British blood and treasure, which
were squandered to no purpose on one side in that
ill-conducted war, and the insolence and cruelty
which tarnished the triumph of the other, form no
pleasing subject of retrospection : while the unsuc
cessful and often unrewarded loyalty of the sufferers
for government, cannot be recollected without the
most wounding regret. The years of Madame,
after I parted with her, were involved in a cloud
raised by the conflicts of contending arms, which I
vainly endeavored to penetrate. My account of
her must therefore, in a great measure, terminate
with this sad year. My father taking in spring
decided measures for leaving America, Intrusted
his [lands to the care of his friend John Munro,
Esq., then residing near Clarendon, and chief magis
trate of that newly peopled district ; a very worthy
friend and countryman of his own, who was then In
high triumph, on account of a fancied conquest over
the supporters of the twenty mile line ; and thought,
when that point was fully established, there would
be no further obstruction to their realizing their
property to great advantage, or colonizing it from
Scotland, if such should be their wish. Aunt leaned
hard to the latter expedient, but my father could
not think of leaving me behind to await the chance
of his return ; and I had been talked into a wish for
revisiting the land of my nativity,
I left my domestic favorites with great pain, but

i84 MEMOIRS
took care to introduce them to aunt, and implored
her, with all the pathos I was mistress of, to take
an interest in them when I was gone ; which she
very good naturedly promised to do. Another
very kind thing she did. Once a year she spent a
day or two at General Schuyler's, I call him by his
later acquired title, to distinguish him from the
number of his namesakes I have had occasion to
mention. She now so timed her visit (though in
dreadful weather) that I might accompany her, and
take my last farewell of my young companions
there : yet I could not bring myself to think it a
final one. The terrible words, no more, never passed
my lips. I had too buoyant a spirit to encounter a
voluntary heart-ache by looking on the dark side
of anything, and always figured myself returning,
and joyfully received by the friends with whom I
was parting.

Chapter XXV
DESCRIPTION OF THE BREAKING UP OF THE
ICE ON HUDSON'S RIVER
SOON after this I witnessed, for the last time,
the sublime spectacle of the ice breaking up
on the river ; an object that fills and elevates the
mind with ideas of power, and grandeur, and, in
deed, magnificence ; before which all the triumphs
of human art sink into contemptuous insignificance.
This noble object of animated greatness, for such
it seemed, I never missed : Its approach being an
nounced, like a loud and long peal of thunder, the
whole population of Albany were down at the river
side in a moment ; and if it happened, as was often
the case, in the morning, there could not be a more
grotesque assemblage. No one who had a night
cap on waited to put it off; as for waiting for one's
cloak, or gloves, it was a thing out of the question ;
you caught the thing next you, that could wrap
round you, and run. In the way you saw every
door left open, and pails, baskets, etc., without
number, set down in the street. It was a perfect
saturnalia. People never dreamt of being obeyed
by their slaves, till the ice was past. The houses

i86 MEMOIRS OF
were left quite empty : the meanest slave, the young
est child, all were to be found on the shore. Such
as could walk, ran ; and they that could not, were
carried by those whose duty it would have been to
stay and attend them. When arrived at the show
place, unlike the audience collected to witness any
spectacle of human invention, the multitude with
their eyes all bent one way, stood immovable, and
silent as death, till the tumult ceased, and the
mighty commotion was passed by ; then every one
tried to give vent to the vast conceptions with which
his mind had been distended. Every child, and
every negro, was sure to say, " Is not this like the
day of judgment ? " and what they said every one
else thought. Now to describe this is impossible ;
but I mean to account, in some degree, for it. The
ice, which had been all winter very thick, instead of
diminishing, as might be expected in spring, still
increased, as the sunshine came, and the days
lengthened. Much snow fell in February ; which,
melted by the heat of the sun, was stagnant, for a
day, on the surface of the ice ; and then by the
night frosts, which were still severe, was added, as
a new accession to the thickness of it, above the
former surface. This was so often repeated, that
in some years the ice gained two feet in thickness,
after the heat ofthe sun became such, as one would
have expected should have entirely dissolved it.
So conscious were the natives of the safety this
accumulation of ice afforded, that the sledges con-

AN AMERICAN LADY 187
tinued to drive on the ice, when the trees were
budding, and everything looked like spring; nay,
when there was so much melted on the surface that
the horses were knee deep In water, while travelling
on it ; and portentous cracks, on every side, an
nounced the approaching rupture. This could
scarce have been produced by the mere influence
ofthe sun, till midsummer. It was the swelling of
the waters under the ice, increased by rivulets, en
larged by melted snows, that produced this catas
trophe ; for such the awful concussion made it
appear. The prelude to the general bursting of
this mighty mass, was a fracture, lengthways, in the
middle of the stream, produced by the effort of the
imprisoned waters, now increased too much to be
contained within their wonted bounds. Conceive
a solid mass, from six to eight feet thick, bursting
for many miles in one continued rupture, produced
by a force Inconceivably great, and, in a manner,
inexpressibly sudden. Thunder is no adequate
image of this awful explosion, which roused all the
sleepers, within reach of the sound, as completely
as the final convulsion of nature, and the solemn
peal ofthe awakening trumpet, might be supposed
to do. The stream in summer was confined by a
pebbly strand, overhung with high and steep banks,
crowned with lofty trees, which were considered as
a sacred barrier against the encroachments of this
annual visitation. Never dryads dwelt in more
security than those of the vine clad elms, that ex-

i88 MEMOIRS OF
tended their ample branches over this mighty
stream. Their tangled nets laid bare by the im
petuous torrents, formed caverns ever fresh and
fragrant ; where the most delicate plants flourished,
unvisited by scorching suns, or snipping blasts ;
and nothing could be more singular than the vari
ety of plants and birds that were sheltered in these
intricate safe recesses. But when the bursting of
the ^crystal surface set loose the many waters that
had rushed down, swollen with the annual tribute
of dissolving snow, the islands and low lands were
all flooded in an instant ; and the lofty banks, from
which you were wont to overlook the stream, were
now entirely filled by an impetuous torrent, bearing
down, with incredible and tumultuous rage, immense
shoals of ice ; which, breaking every instant by the
concussion of others, jammed together in some
places, in others erecting themselves in gigantic
heights for an instant in the air, and seemed to
combat with their fellow giants crowding on in all
directions, and falling together with an inconceiv
able crash, formed a terrible moving picture, ani
mated and various beyond conception ; for it was
not only the cerulean ice, whose broken edges com
bating with the stream, refracted light into a thou
sand rainbows, that charmed your attention, lofty
pines, large pieces of the bank torn off by the ice
with all their early green and tender foliage, were
drove on like travelling islands, amid this battie of
breakers, for such it seemed. I am absurdly at-

AN AMERICAN LADY 189
tempting to paint a scene, under which the powers
of language sink. Suffice it, that this year its so
lemnity was increased by an unusual quantity of
snow, which the last hard winter had accumulated,
and the dissolution of which now threatened an
inundation. Solemn indeed it was to me, as the memento of
my approaching journey, which was to take place
whenever the ice broke, which is here a kind of
epoch. The parting with all that I loved at the
Flats was such an affliction, as It is even yet a re
newal of sorrows to recollect. I loved the very
barn and the swamp I have described so much that
I could not see them for the last time without a
pang. As for the island and the bank of the river,
I know not how I should have parted with them,
if I had thought the parting final ; the good kind
neighbors, and my faithful and most affectionate
Marian, to whom of all others this separation was
most wounding, grieved me not a little. I was
always sanguine in the extreme, and would hope
against hope ; but Marian, who was older, and had
more common sense, knew too well how little Hke
hhood there was of my ever returning. Often with
streaming eyes and bursting sobs she begged to
know if the soul ofa person dying In America could
find Its way over the vast ocean to join that of those
who rose to the abodes of future bhss from Europe:
her hope of a reunion being now entirely referred
to that in a better world. There was no truth I

I90 MEMOIRS
found it so difficult to impress upon her mind as
the possibility of spirits being instantaneously trans
ported from one distant place to another ; a doc
trine which seemed to her very comfortable. Her
agony at the final parting I do not like to think of.
When I used to obtain permission to pass a little
time in town, I was transported with the thoughts
ofthe enjoyments that awaited me in the society of
my patroness, and the young friends I most loved.

Chapter XXVI

DEPARTURE FROM ALBANY — ORIGIN OF
THE STATE OF VERMONT
AFTER quitting the Flats we were to stay for
some days at Madame's, till we should make
a circular visit, and take leave. Having lulled my
disappointment with regard to Clarendon,^ and filled
all my dreams with images of Clydesdale and
Tweedale, and every other vale or dale that were
the haunts of the pastoral muse in Scotland, I grew
pretty well reconciled to my approaching journey ;
thinking I should meet piety and literature in every
cottage, and poetry and music in every recess,
among the sublime scenery of my native mountains.
1 Duncan MacVicar was a staff-officer of the 55th Scotch High
landers of the rank of lieutenant. As such officer he was entitled to
2,000 acres of land, and by the purchases which Mrs. Grant speaks of,
became the proprietor of 4,000 raore, all of which he located in a
body, partly in the town of Shaftsbury and partly in what is now
White Creek, N. Y., the twenty-mile line running exactly through
the centre of It. This property he called a township, and gave it the
name of Clarendon, and anticipated, as Mrs. Grant says, great enjoy
ment of a baronial estate. Becoming disgusted with the surroundings
of his property, unable to obtain a suitable tenantry, and alarmed at
the spread of republicanism and disloyalty, he embarked in the suramer
of 1770, with his daughter, then about fifteen years old, for his native
Scotland. See Hiland "Hall's History of Vermont," p. 80, note.
Mrs. Annie Laggan Dewar, a member of Mrs. Grant's family, writes
from Dunfermline, Scotland, under date of 20 Sept., 1901: "I am

192 MEMOIRS OF
At any rate, I was sure I should hear the larks sing,
and see the early primrose deck the woods, and
daisies enamel the meadows. On all which privi
leges I had been taught to set the due value, yet I
wondered very much how it was that I could enjoy
nothing with such gay visions opening before me ;
my heart, I supposed, was honester than my imagi
nation, for It refused to take pleasure in anything ;
which was a state of mind so new to me that I could
not understand it. Everywhere I was caressed, and
none of these caresses gave me pleasure ; at length
the sad day came that I was to take the last farewell
of my first best friend, who had often in vain urged
my parents to leave me till they should decide whether
to stay or return. About this they did not hesitate ;
nor, though they had, could I have divested myself
of the desire now waked in my mind, of seeing once
more my native land, which I merely loved upon
trust, not having the faintest recollection of it.
Madame embraced me tenderly with many tears,
at parting ; and I felt a kind of prelusive anguish,
as if I had anticipated the sorrows that awaited ;
I do not mean now the painful vicissitudes of after
Hfe, but merely the cruel disappointment that I felt
in finding the scenery and its inhabitants so different
from the Elysian vales and Arcadian swains, that
I had imagined.
unable to tell you much of my great-grandfather MacVicar : he held
a commission in the 77th Fort under Col. Archibald Montgomerie,
afterwards Earl of Eglinton, and I imagine he was a Captain. Later he
was transferred to the 55th regiment, and retired on half pay in 1765."

AN AMERICAN LADY 193
When we came away, by an odd coincidence,
aunt's nephew Peter was just about to be married
to a very fine young creature, whom his relations
did not, for some reason that I do not remember,
think suitable ; while, at the very same time, her
niece. Miss W. had captivated the son of a rich
but avaricious man, who would not consent to his
marrying her, unless aunt gave a fortune with her ;
which, being an unusual demand, she did not choose
to comply with. I was the proud and happy con
fidant of both these lovers ; and before we left
New York we heard that each had married without
waiting for the withheld consent. And thus for
once Madame was left without a prot'eg'e, but still
she had her sister W. and soon acquired a new set
of children, the orphan sons of her nephew Cort
landt Schuyler, who continued under her care for
the remainder of her life.^
My voyage down the river, which was by con
trary winds protracted to a whole week, would have
been very pleasant, could anything have pleased
me. I was at least soothed by the extreme beauty
of many scenes on the banks of this fine stream,
which I was fated never more to behold.
Nothing could exceed the soft, grateful verdure
that met the eye on every side as we approached
New York : it was in the beginning of May, the
1 Peter Schuyler, fourth of the name, married his cousin, Gertrude
Lansing, and Miss W. married John Johnson. The widow and chil
dren of Cortlandt Schuyler until they retumed to Ireland lived much
of the time in the house with Aunt Schuyler on State Street, Albany.
VOL. II. — 13

194 MEMOIRS OF
great orchards which rose on every slope were all
in bloom, and the woods of poplar beyond them
had their sprouting foliage tinged with a lighter
shade of the freshest green. Staten Island rose
gradual from the sea in which it seemed to float,
and was so covered with innumerable fruit trees in
full blossom, that it looked like some enchanted
forest. I shall not attempt to describe a place so
well known as New York, but merely content my
self with saying that I was charmed with the air
of easy gaiety, and social kindness, that seemed to
prevail everywhere among the people, and the
cheerful, animated appearance of the place alto
gether. Here I fed the painful longings of my
mind, which already began to turn impatiently
towards Madame, by conversing with young people
whom I had met at her house, on their summer
excursions. These were most desirous to please
and amuse me ; and, though I knew little of good
breeding, I had good nature enough to try to seem
pleased, but, in fact, I enjoyed nothing. Though
I saw there was much to enjoy had my mind been
turned as usual to social delight, fatigued with the
kindness of others and my own simulation, I tried
to forget my sorrows in sleep ; but night, that was
wont to bring peace and silence in her train, had
no such companions here. The spirit of discord
had broke loose. The fermentation was begun
that had not yet ended. And at midnight, bands
of intoxicated electors, who were then choosing a

AN AMERICAN LADY 195
member for the assembly, came thundering to the
doors, demanding a vote for their favored candidate.
An hour after another party equally vociferous, and
not more sober, alarmed us, by insisting on our
giving our votes for their favorite competitor.
This was mere play ; but before we embarked,
there was a kind of prelusive skirmish, that strongly
marked the spirit of the times. These new patriots
had taken it in their heads that Lieut, Gov. Colden
sent home intelligence of their proceedings, or in
some other way betrayed them, as they thought,
to government. In one of these fits of excess and
fury, which are so often the result of popular elec
tions, they went to his house, drew out his coach,
and set fire to it. This was the night before we
embarked, after a week's stay in New York.
My little story being no longer blended with the
memoirs of my benefactress, I shall not trouble the
reader with the account of our melancholy and
perilous voyage. Here, too, with regret I must
close the account of what I knew of Aunt Schuyler.
I heard very little of her till the breaking out of
that disastrous war, which every one, whatever side
they may have taken at the time, must look back
on with disgust and horror.
To tell the history of aunt during the years that
her life was prolonged to witness scenes abhorrent
to her feelings, and her principles, would be a pain
ful task indeed ; though I were better informed than
I am, or wish to be, of the transactions of those

196 MEMOIRS OF
perturbed times. Of her private history I only
know, that, on the accidental death, formerly men
tioned, of her nephew Capt. Cortlandt Schuyler,
she took home his two eldest sons, and kept them
with her till her own death, which happened 28
August, 1782. I know too, that like the Roman

A Facsimile of Aunt Schuyler's Signature,
fi-om her WUl.
Atticus, she kept free from the violence and bigotry
of party, and like him too, kindly and liberally
assisted those of each side, who, as the tide of suc
cess ran different ways, were considered as unfor
tunate. On this subject I do not wish to enlarge,
but shall merely observe, that all the colonel's
relations were on the republican side, while every
one of her own nephews ^ adhered to the royal cause.
to their very great loss and detriment ; though
some of them have now found a home In Upper
Canada, where. If they are alienated from their
native province, they have at least the consolation
1 When the war of independence commenced there were three,
and possibly five, nephews of her deceased husband, Stephen, Philip,
and Peter Schuyler, Peter Lansing and Barent Staats, of whom
PhUip S. was a colonel in the State line. Madame's nephews were
Philip and Stephen Schuyler, the one a major-general, the other a
colonel under the Congress ; Philip, Abrahara, and Cornelius Cuyler,
of whom Philip was loyal to his country, while his two brothers were
royalists.

AN AMERICAN LADY 197
of meering many other deserving people, whom the
fury of party had driven there for refuge.^
Though unwilling to obtrude upon my reader
any further particulars, irrelevant to the main story
I have endeavored to detail, he may perhaps be
desirous to know how the township of Clarendon
was at length disposed of My father's friend.
Captain Munro, was engaged for himself and his
1 Since writing the above, the author of this narrative has heard
many particulars of the later years of her good friend, by which it ap
pears, that to the last her loyalty and public spirit bumed with a
clear and steady flarae. She was by that time too venerable as well
as respectable to be insulted for her principles ; and her opinions were
always delivered in a manner firm and calra, like her own mind,
which was too well regulated to adrait the rancor of party, and too
dignified to stoop to disguise of any kind. She died full of years, and
honored by all who could or could not appreciate her worth ; for not
to esteera Aunt Schuyler was to forfeit all pretensions to estimation. 
Mrs. Grant.
The American Lady survived her brothers and sister, and those
of her deceased husband ; indeed, she was for many years the sole
survivor in the third generation of Philip (Pieterse) Schuyler's de
scendants. Her estate, derived from her father, from her brother
Philip, who was killed by the French at Saratoga In 1745, and from
her husband, was raore considerable than Mrs. Grant supposed. By
her will, dated February 21, 1762, she gave It to her ten nephews and
nieces, children of her brother John and of her sister Mrs. Cuyler, to
each one-tenth. Her affections were loyal to her family,and she did not
discriminate because of political diffisrences. She had leased the Flats
to a nephew of her late husband, a son of Pedrom, Stephen Schuyler,
who rebuilt the house on the foundations of the one destroyed by fire ;
and It was while on a visit to the new-old place, she died, August 28,
1782, in the eighty-third year of her age. She was burled In the
private cemetery between the graves of her husband and her brother
John. It is greatly to be regretted that Mrs. Schuyler's last resting-
place is unmarked. Vide note on p. 9, Vol. II.

198 MEMOIRS OF
military friends, in a litigation, or I should rather
say, the provinces of New York and Connecticut
continued to dispute the right to the boundary
within the twenty mile line, till a dispute still more
serious gave spirit to the new settlers from Con
necticut, to rise in arms, and expel the unfortunate
loyalists from that district, which was bounded on
one side bythe Green mountains, since distinguished,
like Rome in its infancy, as a place of refuge to
all the lawless and uncontrollable spirits who had
banished themselves from general society.
It was a great mortification to speculative romance
and vanity, for me to consider that the very spot,
which I had been used fondly to contemplate as the
future abode of peace, innocence, and all the social
virtues, that this very spot should be singled out
from all others, as a refuge for the vagabonds and
banditti of the continent. They were, however,
distinguished by a kind of desperate bravery, and
unconquerable obstinacy. They, at one time, set
the states and the mother country equally at defi
ance, and set up for an independence of their own ;
on this occasion they were so troublesome, and the
others so tame, that the last mentioned were fain to
purchase their nominal submission by a most dis
graceful concession. There was a kind of provision
made for all the British subjects who possessed
property in the alienated provinces, provided that
they had not borne arms against the Americans;
these were permitted to sell their lands, though not

AN AMERICAN LADY 199
for their full value, but at a limited price. My
father came precisely under this description ; but
the Green mountain boys, as the irregular inhabit
ants of the disputed boundaries were then called,
conscious that all the lands they had forcibly
usurped were liable to this kind of claim, set up the
standard of independence. They indeed positively
refused to confederate with the rest, or consent to
the proposed peace, unless the robbery they had
committed should be sanctioned by a law, giving
them a full right to retain, unquestioned, this vio
lent acquisition.
It is doubtful, of three parties, who were most to
blame on this occasion. The depredators, who, in
defiance of even natural equity, seized and erected
this little petulant state. The mean concession of
the other provinces, who, after permitting this one
to set their authority at defiance, soothed them into
submission by a gift of what was not theirs to be
stow ; or the tame acquiescence of the then ministry.
In an arrangement which deprived faithful subjects,
who were at the same time war-worn veterans, of
the reward assigned them for their services.
Proud of the resemblance which their origin bore
to that of ancient Rome, they latinized the common
appellation of their territory, and made wholesome
laws for its regulation. Thus began the petty state
of Vermont, and thus ends the history of an heiress.

Chapter XXVII
PROSPERITY OF ALBANY— GENERAL REFLECTIONS
I HOPE my readers will share the satisfaction I
feel, in contemplating, at this distance, the
growing prosperity of Albany, which is, I am told,
greatly increased in size and consequence, far su
perior. Indeed, to any inland town on the continent,
so important from its centrical situation, that it has
been proposed as the seat of congress, which, should
the party attached to Britain ever gain the ascend
ancy over the southern states, would very probably
be the case ; the morality, simple manners, and
consistent opinions of the inhabitants, still bearing
evident traces of that Integrity and simplicity which
once distinguished them. The reflections which
must result from the knowledge of these circum
stances are so obvious, that it is needless to point
them out.
A reader that has patience to proceed thus far, In
a narration too careless and desultory for the grave,
and too heavy and perplexed for the gay, too minute
for the busy, and too serious for the idle ; such a
reader must have been led on by an interest in the
virtues of the leading character, and will be suffi
ciently awake to their remaining effects.

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AN AMERICAN LADY 201
Very different, however, must be the reflections
that arise from a more general view of the present
state of our ancient colonies.
" O for that warning voice, which he who saw
Th' Apocalypse, heard cry. That a voice, like
The deep and dreadful organ-pipe of Heaven,"
would speak terror to those whose delight is in
change and agitation ; to those who wantonly light
up the torch of discord, which many waters will not
extinguish. Even when peace succeeds to the
breathless fury of such a contest, it comes too late
to restore the virtues, the hopes, the affections that
have perished in it. The gangrene of the land is
not healed, and the prophets vainly cry peace !
peace ! where there is no peace.
However upright the intentions may be of the
first leaders of popular insurrection, it may be truly
said of them, in the end, instruments of cruelty are
in their habitations : nay, must be, for when they
have proceeded a certain length, conciliation or
lenity would be cruelty to their followers, who are
gone too far, to return to the place from which they
set out. Rectitude, hitherto upheld by laws, by
custom, and by fear, now walks alone, in unaccus
tomed paths, and like a tottering infant, falls at the
first assault, or first obstacle it meets ; but falls to
rise no more. Let any one who has mixed much
with mankind, say, what would be the consequence
if restraint were withdrawn, and impunity offered to

202 MEMOIRS OF
all whose probity is not fixed on the basis of real
piety, or supported by singular fortitude, and that
sound sense which, discerning remote consequences,
preserves integrity as armor of proof against the
worst that can happen.
True it is, that amidst these convulsions of the
moral world, exigencies bring out some characters
that sweep across the gloom like meteors in a
tempestuous night, which would not have been dis
tinguished In the sunshine of prosperity. It is in
the swell of the turbulent ocean that the mightiest
living handy-works of the author of nature are to
be met with. Great minds no doubt are called
out by exigencies, and put forth all their powers.
Though Hercules slew the Hydra and cleansed the
Augaean stable, all but poets and heroes must have
regretted that any such monsters existed. Seriously
beside the rancor, the treachery, and the derehction
of every generous sentiment and upright motive,
which are the rank production of the blood manured
field of civil discord, after the froth and feculence
of its cauldron have boiled over, still the deleterious
dregs remain. Truth is the first victim to fear and
policy ; when matters arrive at that crisis, every one
finds a separate interest ; mutual confidence, which
cannot outlive sincerity, dies next, and all the kin
dred virtues drop in succession. It becomes a
man's interest that his brothers and his father
should join the opposite party, that some may be
applauded for steadiness or enriched by confisca-

AN AMERICAN LADY 203
tions; to such temptations the mind, fermenting
with party hatred, yields with less resistance than
could be imagined by those who have never wit
nessed such scenes of horror darkened by duplicity.
After so deep a plunge in depravity, how difiicult,
how near to impossible is a return to the paths of
rectitude ! This is but a single instance of the
manner in which moral feehng is undermined In
both parties. But as our nature, destined to suffer
and to mourn, and to have the heart made better
by affliction, finds adversity a less dangerous trial
than prosperity, especially where it is great and
sudden, in all civil conflicts the triumphant party
may, with moral truth, be said to be the greatest
sufferers. Intoxicated as they often are with power
and affluence, purchased with the blood and tears
of their friends and countrymen, the hard task
remains to them of chaining up and reducing to
submission the many headed monster, whom they
have been forced to let loose and gorge with the
spoils of the vanquished. Then, too, comes on the
difficulty of dividing power where no one has a
right, and every one a claim ; of ruling those whom
they have taught to despise authority ; and of re
viving that sentiment of patriotism, and that love
of glory, which faction and self-interest have extin
guished. When the white and red roses were the symbols
of faction in England, and when the contest between
BaHol and Bruce made way for invasion and tyranny

204 MEMOIRS OF
in Scotland, the destruction of armies and of cities,
public executions, plunder and confiscations, were
the least evils that they occasioned. The annihila
tion of public virtue and private confidence ; the ex
asperation of hereditary hatred; the corrupting the
milk of human kindness, and breaking asunder
every sacred tie by which man and man are held to
gether ; all these dreadful results of civil discord are
the means of visiting the sins of civil war on the
third and fourth generation of those who have
kindled it. Yet the extinction of charity and kind
ness in dissensions like these, is not to be compared
to that which is the consequence of an entire sub
version of the accustoraed form of government. At
tachment to a monarch or line of royalty, aims only
at a single object, and is at worst loyalty and fidelity
misplaced ; yet war once begun on such a motive,
loosens the bands of society, and opens to the am
bitious and the rapacious the way to power and
plunder. Still, however, the laws, the customs, and
the frame of government stand where they did.
When the contest is decided, and the successful
competitor established, if the monarch possesses
ability and courts popularity, he, or at any rate his
immediate successor, may rule happily, and reconcile
those who were the enemies, not of his place, but
of his person. The mighty image of sovereign
power may change its " head of gold " for one of
silver ; but still It stands firm on its basis, supported
by all those whom it protects. But when thrown

AN AMERICAN LADY 205
from its pedestal by an entire subversion of govern
ment, the wreck is far more fatal and the traces in
delible. Those who on each side support the heirs
claiming a disputed crown, mean equally to be faith
ful and loyal to their rightful sovereign; and are
thus, though In opposition to each other, actuated
by the same sentiment. But when the spirit of ex
termination walks forth over prostrate thrones and
altars, ages cannot efface the traces of its progress.
A contest for sovereignty is a whirlwind, that rages
fiercely while It continues, and deforms the face
of external nature. New houses, however, replace
those it has demolished ; trees grow up in the place
of those destroyed ; the landscape laughs, the birds
sing, and everything returns to its accustomed
course. But a total subversion of a long established
government is like an earthquake, that not only
overturns the works of man, but changes the wonted
course and operation of the very elements ; makes a
gulf in the midst ofa fertile plain, casts a mountain
Into a lake, and in fine produces such devastation as
It is not in the power of man to remedy. Indeed it
is too obvious that, even In our own country, that
fire which produced the destruction of the monarchy,
still glows among the ashes of extinguished factions ;
but that portion of the community who carried with
them across the Atlantic, the repugnance to submis
sion which grew out of an Indefinite love of liberty,
might be compared to the Persian Magi. Like
them, when forced to fly from their native country.

2o6 MEMOIRS OF
they carried with them a portion of the hallowed
fire, which continued to be the object of their secret
worship. Those who look upon the revolution, of
which this spirit was the prime mover, as tending to
advance the general happiness, no doubt consider
these opinions as a rich inheritance, productive of
the best effects. Many wise and worthy persons
have thought and still continue to think so. There
is as yet no room for decision, the experiment not
being completed. Their mode of government,
anomalous and hitherto inefficient, has not yet ac
quired the firmness of cohesion, or the decisive tone
of authority.
The birth of this great empire is a phenomenon
in the history of mankind. There is nothing like
it in reality or fable, but the birth of Minerva, who
proceeded full armed and full grown out ofthe head
of the thunderer. Population, arts, sciences, and
laws, extension of territory, and establishment of
power, have been gradual and progressive in other
countries, where the current of dominion went on
increasing as It flowed, by conquests or other acquisi
tions, which it swallowed like rivulets in its course :
but here it burst forth like a torrent, spreading It
self at once into an expanse, vast as their own supe
rior lake, before the eyes of the passive generation
which witnessed its birth. Yet it is wonderful how
little talent or intellectual preeminence of any kind
has appeared in this new-born world, which seems
already old in worldly craft, and whose children are

AN AMERICAN LADY 207
indeed " wiser in their generation than the children
of light." Self-interest, eagerly grasping at pecuni
ary advantages, seems to be the ruling principle of
this great continent.
Love of country, that amiable and noble senti
ment, which by turns exalts and softens the human
mind, nourishes enthusiasm, and inspires alike the
hero and the sage, to defend and adorn the sacred
land of their nativity, is a principle which hardly
exists there. An American loves his country, or
prefers it rather, because its rivers are wide and deep,
and abound in fish ; because he has the forests to
retire to, if the god of gainful commerce should
prove unpropitious on the shore. He loves it be
cause if his negro Is disrespectful, or disobedient, he
can sell him and buy another ; while if he himself
is disobedient to the laws of his country, or dls-
respectfiil to the magistracy appointed to enforce
them, that shadow of authority, without power to
do good, or prevent evil, must possess its soul in
patience. We love our country because we honor our an
cestors ; because it is endeared to us not only by
early habit, but by attachments to the spots hal
lowed by their piety, their heroism, their genius, or
their public spirit. We honor it as the scene of
noble deeds, the nurse of sages, bards, and heroes.
The very aspect and features of this blest asylum of
Hberty, science, and religion, warm our hearts, and
animate our imaginations. Enthusiasm kindles at

2o8 MEMOIRS OF
the thoughts of what we have been, and what we
are. It is the last retreat, the citadel, in which all
that is worth Hving for is concentrated. Among the
other ties which were broken, by the detachment of
America from us, that fine ligament, which binds us
to the tombs of our ancestors (and seems to convey
to us the spirit and the affections we derive from
them), was dissolved : with it perished all generous
emulation. Fame,
" That spur which the clear mind doth raise
To live laborious nights and painful days,"
has no votaries among the students of Poor Rich
ard's almanac, the great Pharos of the states. The
land of their ancestors, party hostility has taught
them to regard with scorn and hatred. That in
which they live calls up no images of past glory
or excellence. Neither hopeful nor desirous of
that after-existence, which has been most coveted
by those who do things worth recording, they not
only live, but thrive ; and that is quite enough.
A man no longer says of himself with exultation,
" I belong to the land where Milton sung the song
of seraphims, and Newton traced the paths of light;
where Alfred established his throne in wisdom, and
where the palms and laurels of renown shade the
tombs of the mighty and the excellent." Thus
dissevered from recollections so dear, and so en
nobling, what ties are substituted In their places?
Can he regard with tender and reverential feelings,

AN AMERICAN LADY 209
a land that has not only been deprived of its best
ornaments, but become a receptacle of the outcasts
of society from every nation in Europe ? Is there
a person whose dubious or turbulent character has
made him unwelcome or suspected in society, he
goes to America, where he knows no one, and
Is of no one known ; and where he can with safety
assume any character. All that tremble with the
consciousness of undetected crimes, or smart from
the consequence of unchecked follies ; fraudulent
bankrupts, unsuccessful adventurers, restless pro
jectors, or seditious agitators, this great Limbus
Patrum has room for them all ; and to It they
fly in the day of their calamity. With such a
heterogeneous mixture a transplanted Briton of the
original stock, a true old American, may live in
charity, but can never assimilate. Who can, with
the cordiality due to that sacred appellation, " my
country," apply it to that land of Hivites and
Girgashites, where one cannot travel ten miles,
in a stretch, without meeting detachments of dif
ferent nations, torn from their native soil and first
affections, and living aliens In a strange land, where
no one seems to form part of an attached, connected
whole. To those enlarged minds, who have got far
beyond the petty consideration of country and
kindred, to embrace the whole human race, a land,
whose population is like Joseph's coat, of many,
colors, must be a peculiarly suitable abode. For.
VOL. II.— 14

2IO MEMOIRS
in the endless variety of the patchwork, of which
society is composed, a liberal philosophic mind
might meet with the specimens of all those tongues
and nations which he comprehends in the wide
circle of his enlarged philanthropy.

Chapter XXVIII
FURTHER REFLECTIONS — GENERAL HAMILTON
THAT some of the leaders of the hostile party
in America acted upon liberal and patriotic
views can not be doubted. There were many,
indeed, of whom the public good was the leading
principle ; and to these the cause was a noble one :
yet even these little foresaw the result. Had they
known what a cold, selfish character, what a dere
hction of religious principle, what furious factions,
and wild unsettled notions of government, were to
be the consequences of this utter alienation from
the parent state, they would have shrunk back
from the prospect. Those fine minds who, nur
tured in the love of science and of elegance, looked
back to the land of their forefathers for models
of excellence, and drank inspiration from the pro
duction of the British muse, could not but feel
this rapture as " a wrench from all we love, from
all we are." They, too, might wish, when time
had ripened their growing empire, to assert that
Independence which, when mature in strength and
knowledge, we claim even of the parents we love
and honor. But to snatch it with a rude and
bloody grasp, outraged the feelings of those gentler

212 MEMOIRS OF
children ofthe common parent. Mildness of man
ners, refinement of mind, and all the softer virtues
that spring up in the cultivated paths of social life,
nurtured by generous affections, were undoubtedly
to be found on the side of the unhappy loyalists ;
whatever superiority in vigor and intrepidity might
be claimed by their persecutors. Certainly, how
ever necessary the ruling powers might find it to
carry their system of exile into execution, it has
occasioned to the country an irreparable privation.
When the revocation of the Edict of Nantz gave
the scattering blow to the protestants of France,
they carried with them their arts, their frugal
regular habits, and that portable mine of wealth
which is the portion of patient industry. The
chasm produced in France by the departure of so
much humble virtue, and so many useful arts, has
never been filled.
What the loss of the Huguenots was to commerce
and manufactures in France, that of the loyalists
was to religion, literature, and amenity, in America.
The silken threads were drawn out of the mixed
web of society, which has ever since been compara
tively coarse and homely. The dawning light of
elegant science was quenched in universal dulness.
No ray has broken through the general gloom ex
cept the phosphoric lightnings of her cold blooded
philosopher, the deistical Franklin, the legitimate
father of the American "age of calculation." So
weH have "the children of his soul" profited by

AN AMERICAN LADY 213
the frugal lessons of this apostle of Plutus, that
we see a new empire blest In its infancy with all
the saving virtues which are the usual portion of
cautious and feeble age ; and we behold it with
the same complacent surprise which fills our minds
at the sight of a young miser.
Forgive me, shade ofthe accomplished Hamilton ^
while all that is lovely in virtue, all that is honor
able in valor, and all that is admirable in talent,
conspire to lament the early setting of that western
star ; and to deck the tomb of worth and genius
with wreaths of immortal bloom :
" Thee Columbia long shall weep ;
Ne'er again thy kindness see;"
fain would I add,
" Long her strains in sorrows steep.
Strains of immortality, " — Gray.
but alas !
" They have no poet, and they die," — Pope.
His character was a bright exception ; yet, after
aU, an exception that only confirms the rule.
What must be the state of that country where
worth, talent, and the disinterested exercise of every
faculty of a vigorous and exalted mind, were in vain
devoted to the public good ? Where, indeed, they
1 General Alexander Hamilton, killed in a duel, into which he was
forced by Col. Aaron Burr, Vice-President of the United States, at
New York, in 1804  Mrs. Grant.

2X4 MEMOIRS OF
only marked out their possessor for a victim to the
shrine of faction ? Alas ! that a compliance with
the laws of false honor (the only blemish of a
stainless life), should be so dearly expiated ! Yet
the deep sense expressed by all parties of this
general loss, seems to promise a happier day at
some future period, when this chaos of jarring
elements shall be reduced by some pervading and
governing mind into a settled form.
But much must be done, and suffered, before
this change can take place. There never can be
much improvement till there is union and subor
dination ; till those strong local attachments are
formed, which are the basis of patriotism, and the
bonds of social attachment. But, while such a
wide field is open to the spirit of adventure ; and,
while the facility of removal encourages that restless
and ungovernable spirit, there Is little hope of any
material change. There is in America a double
principle of fermentation, which continues to im
pede the growth of the arts and sciences, and of
those gentler virtues of social life, which were
blasted by the breath of popular fury. On the
sea-side there is a perpetual importation of lawless
and restless persons, who have no other path to
the notoriety they covet, but that which leads
through party violence ; and of want of that local
attachment, I have been speaking of, there can
be no stronger proof, than the passion for emigra
tion so frequent in America.

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The \^'est Side of Pearl Street from Maiden Lane N(

AN AMERICAN LADY 215
Among those who are neither beloved in the
vicinity of their place of abode, nor kept stationary
by any gainful pursuit, it is incredible how light a
matter will afford a pretext for removal !
Here is one great motive, for good conduct and
decorous manners, obliterated. The good opinion
of his neighbors is of little consequence to him, who
can scarce be said to have any. If a man keeps
free of those crimes which a regard to the public
safety compels the magistrate to punish, he finds
shelter in every forest from the scorn and dislike
Incurred by petty trespasses on society. There, all
who are unwilling to submit to the restraints of law
and rehgion, may live unchallenged, at a distance
from the public exercise of either. There all whom
want has made desperate, whether it be the want of
abilities, of character, or the means to live, are sure
to take shelter. This habit of removing furnishes,
however, a palliation for some evils, for the facility
with which they change residence becomes the
means of ridding the community of members too
turbulent or too indolent to be quiet or useful. It
is a kind of voluntary exile, where those whom
government want power and efficiency to banish,
very obligingly banish themselves ; thus preventing
the explosions which might be occasioned by their
continuing mingled in the general mass.
It is owing to this salutary discharge of peccant
humors that matters go on so quietly as they do,
under a government which is neither feared nor

2i6 MEMOIRS OF
loved, by the community it rules. These removals
are incredibly frequent ; for the same family, flying
as it were before the face of legal authority and civ
ilization, are often known to remove farther and
farther back into the woods, every fifth or sixth
year, as the population begins to draw nearer. By
this secession from society, a partial reformation is
in some cases effected. A person incapable of reg
ular industry and compliance with its established
customs will certainly do least harm, when forced to
depend on his personal exertions. When a man
places himself in the situation of Robinson Crusoe,
with the difference of a wife and children for that
solitary hero's cats and parrots, he must of necessity
make exertions like his, or perish. He becomes
not a regular husbandman, but a hunter, with
whom agriculture is but a secondary consideration.
His Indian corn and potatoes, which constitute the
main part of his crop, are, in due time, hoed by his
wife and daughters ; while the axe and the gun are
the only implements he willingly handles.
Fraud and avarice are the vices of society, and
do not thrive in the shade of the forests. The
hunter, like the sailor, has little thought of covet
ing or amassing. He does not forge, nor cheat,
nor steal, as such an unprincipled person must have
done in the world, where, instead of wild beasts, he
must have preyed upon his fellows, and he does
not drink much, because liquor is not attainable.
But he becomes coarse, savage, and totally negligent

AN AMERICAN LADY 217
of all the forms and decencies of life. He grows
wild and unsocial. To him a neighbor is an en-
croacher. He has learnt to do without one; and
he knows not how to yield to him In any point of
mutual accommodation. He cares neither to give
or take assistance, and finds all the society he wants
in his own family. Selfish, from the over-indulged
love of ease and liberty, he sees in a new comer
merely an abridgement of his range, and an Inter
loper in that sport on which he would much rather
depend for subsistence than on the habits of regular
industry. What can more flatter an imagination
warm with native benevolence, and animated by
romantic enthusiasm, than the image of Insulated
self-dependant families, growing up in those prime
val retreats, remote from the corruptions of the
world, and dwelling amidst the prodigality of na
ture. Nothing however can be more anti-Arcadian.
There no crook is seen, no pipe is heard, no lamb
bleats, for the best possible reason, because there
are no sheep. No pastoral strains awake the sleep
ing echoes, doomed to sleep on till the bull-frog,
the wolf, and the quackawary ^ begin their nightly
concert. Seriously, it is not a place that can, in
any instance, constitute happiness. When listless
indolence or lawless turbulence fly to shades the
most tranquil, or scenes the most beautiful, they
degrade nature instead of improving or enjoying
^ Quackawary is the Indian narae of a bird, which flies about In the
night, making a noise sirailar to the sound of its name. — Mrs. Grant.

2i8 MEMOIRS
her charms. Active diligence, a sense of our duty
to the source of all good, and kindly affections
towards our fellow-creatures, with a degree of self-
command and mental improvement, can alone pro
duce the gentle manners that ensure rural peace,
or enable us, with intelligence and gratitude, to
" rejoice in nature's joys."

Chapter XXIX
SKETCH OF THE SETTLEMENT OF
PENNSYLVANIA
FAIN would I turn from this gloomy and un
certain prospect, so disappointing to philan
thropy, and so subversive of all the flattering hopes
and sanguine predictions of the poets and philoso
phers, who were wont to look forward to a new
Atlantis, "Famed for arts and laws derived from Jove."
In this western world. But I cannot quit the fond
retrospect of what once was In one favored spot,
without indulging a distant hope of what may
emerge from this dark, disordered state.
The melancholy Cowley, the ingenius bishop of
Cloyne, and many others, alike eminent for virtue
and for genius, looked forward to this region of
liberty as a soil, where peace, science, and religion
could have room to take root and flourish un
molested. In those primeval solitudes, enriched
by the choicest bounties of nature, they might (as
these benevolent speculators thought) extend their
shelter to tribes no longer savage, rejoicing in the
light of evangelic truth, and exalting science. Little

220 MEMOIRS OF
did these amiable projectors know how much is to
be done before the human mind, debased by habit
ual vice, and cramped by artificial manners in the
old world, can wash out its stains and resume its
simplicity in a new; nor did they know through
how many gradual stages of culture the untutored
intellect of savage tribes must pass before they be
come capable of comprehending those truths which
to us habit has rendered obvious, or which at any
rate we have talked of so familiarly, that we think
we comprehend them. These projectors of felicity
were not so ignorant of human nature, as to expect
change of place could produce an instantaneous
change of character ; but they hoped to realize an
Utopia, where justice should be administered on
the purest principles ; from which venality should
be banished, and where mankind should, through
the paths of truth and uprightness, arrive at the
highest attainable happiness in a state not meant
for perfection. They " talked the style of gods,"
making very little account of " chance and suffer
ance." Their speculations of the result remind me
of what Is recorded In some ancient writer, of a
project for building a magnificent temple to Diana
in some one of the Grecian states. A reward was
offered to him who should erect, at the public cost,
with most taste and ingenuity, a structure which
should do honor both to the goddess and her wor
shippers. Several candidates appeared. The first
that spoke was a self-satisfied young man, who, in

AN AMERICAN LADY 221
a long florid harangue, described the pillars, the
porticoes, and the proportions of this intended
building, seeming all the while more intent on the
display of his elocution, than on the subject of his
discourse. When he had finished, a plain, elderly
man came from behind him, and leaning forwards,
said in a deep hollow voice, " All that he has said
I will do."
William Penn was the raan, born to give " a local
habitation and a narae," to all that had hitherto only
floated in the day dreams of poets and philosophers.
To qualify him for the legislator of a new born
sect, with all the innocence and all the helplessness
of infancy, raany circurastances concurred, that
could scarce ever be supposed to happen at once
to the same person ; born to fortune and distinc
tion, with a raind powerful and cultivated, he knew,
experimentally, all the advantages to be derived
from wealth or knowledge, and could not be said
ignorantly to despise them. He had, in his early
days, walked far enough into the paths of folly and
dissipation, to know human character in all its va
rieties, and to say experimentally — all is vanity.
With a vigorous mind, an ardent iraagination, and
a heart glowing with the warmest benevolence, he
appears to have been driven, by a repulsive abhor
rence of the abuse of knowledge, of pleasure, and
preeminence, which he had witnessed, into the op
posite extrerae ; into a sect, the very first principles
of which, clip the wings of fancy, extinguish ara-

222 MEMOIRS OF
bition, and bring every struggle for superiority, the
result of uncoraraon powers of mind, down to the
dead level of tarae equality ; a fact, that reminds
one of the exclusion of poets from Plato's fancied
republic, by stripping off all the many-colored garbs
with which learning and imagination have invested
the forras of ideal excellence, and reducing them to
a few siraple realities, arrayed as soberly as their
votaries. This sect, which brings mankind to a resemblance
of Thomson's Laplanders,
" Who little pleasure know, and feel no pain,"
might be supposed the last to captivate, nay, to
absorb, such a mind as I have been describing.
Yet so it was : even in the midst of all this cold
huraility, dorainion was to be found. That rule,
which of all others, is raost gratifying to a mind
conscious of its own power, and directing it to the
purposes of benevolence, the voluntary subjection of
mind, the horaage which a sect pays to its leader,
is justly accounted the most gratifying species of
power; and to this lurking arabition everything
is rendered subservient by those, who have once
known this native and inherent superiority. This
man, who had wasted his inheritance, alienated his
relations, and estranged his friends, who had for
saken the religion of his ancestors, and in a great
measure the custoras of his country, whom some
charged with folly, and others with madness, was,

AN AMERICAN LADY 223
nevertheless, destined to plan with consuraraate
wisdom, and execute with indefatigable activity and
immovable firmness, a scheme of government, such
as has been the wish, at least, of every enlarged and
benevolent mind (from Plato, downwards), which
has indulged speculations of the kind. The glory
of realizing, in sorae degree, all these fair visions
was, however, reserved for William Penn alone.
Imagination delights to dwell on the tranquil
abodes of plenty, content, and equanimity, that so
quickly " rose like an exhalation," in the domains
ofthis pacific legislator. That he should expect to
protect the quiet abodes of his peaceful and indus
trious followers, merely with a fence of olive (as one
may call his gentle institutions), is wonderful ; and
the more so, when we consider him to have lived
In the world, and known too well, by his own ex
perience, of what discordant elements it is com
posed. A mind so powerful and coraprehensive
as his, could not but know, that the wealth which
quiet and blaraeless industry insensibly accumu
lates, proves merely a lure to attract the armed
spoiler to the defenceless dwellings of those, who
do not think it a duty to protect themselves.
"But when divine ambition swell'd his mind.
Ambition truly great, of virtue's deeds,"
he could no otherwise execute his plan of utility,
than by the agency of a people who were bound
together by a principle, at once adhesive and ex-

224 MEMOIRS OF
elusive, and who were too calm and self-subdued, too
benignant and just to create enemies to themselves
araong their neighbors. There could be no motive
but the thirst of rapine, for disturbing a community
so inoffensive ; and the founder, no doubt, flattered
himself that the parent country would not fail to ex
tend to thera that protection, which their useful lives
and helpless state both needed and deserved.
Never, surely, were institutions better calculated
for nursing the infancy of a sylvan colony, from
which the noisy pleasures, and raore bustling va
rieties of life, were necessarily excluded. The
serene and dispassionate state, to which it seems
the chief aim ofthis sect to bring the human mind,
is precisely what is requisite to reconcile It to the
privations that must be encountered, during the
early stages of the progression of society, which,
necessarily excluded from the pleasures of refinement,
should be guarded from its pains.
Where nations, in the course of time become
civihzed, the process is so gradual from one race
to another, that no violent effort is required to
break through settled habits, and acquire new
tastes and inclinations, fitted to what might be
almost styled a new raode of existence. But when
colonies are first settled, in a country so entirely
priraitive as that to which William Penn led his
followers, there is a kind of retrograde movement
of the mind, requisite to reconcile people to the
new duties and new views that open to them, and

AN AMERICAN LADY 225
to make the total privation of wonted objects,
modes, and amusements, tolerable.
Perfect simplicity of taste and manners, and en
tire indifference to much of what the world calls
pleasure, were necessary to raake life tolerable to
the first settlers in a trackless wilderness. These
habits of thinking and living, so difficult to acquire,
and so painful when forced upon the mind by in
evitable necessity, the Quakers brought with them,
and left, without regret, a world frora which they
were already excluded by that austere simpHcity
which peculiarly fitted them for their new situation.
A kindred simplicity, and a similar ignorance of
artificial refineraents and high seasoned pleasures,
produced the same effect in qualifying the first set
tlers at Albany to support the privations, and en
dure the inconveniences of their noviciate In the
forests of the new world. But to return to William
Penn ; the fair fabric he had erected, though it
speedily fulfilled the utmost proraise of hope, con
tained within itself the principle of dissolution, and,
from the very nature of the beings which composed
it, must have decayed, though the revolutionary
shock had not so soon shaken its foundations.
Sobriety and prudence lead naturally to wealth,
and wealth to authority, which soon strikes at the
root of the short lived principle of equality. A
single instance raay occur here and there, but who
can ever suppose nature running so contrary to her
bias that all the opulent raembers of a comraunity
VOL. II. — 15

226 MEMOIRS OF
should acquire or inherit wealth for the mere pur
pose of giving it away ? Where there are no ele
gant arts to be encouraged, no elegant pleasures to
be procured, where ingenuity is not to be rewarded,
or talent admired or exercised, what is wealth but a
cumbrous load, sinking the owner deeper and deeper
into grossness and dullness, having no incitement
to exercise the only faculties permitted him to use,
and few objects to relieve in a community from
which vice and poverty are equally excluded by
their industry, and their wholesome rule of expul
sion. We all know that there Is not in society a
raore useless and disgusting character than what is
formed by the possession of great wealth without
elegance or refinement, without, indeed, that Hber
ality which can only result from a certain degree of
cultivation. What then would a coraraunity be,
entirely formed of such persons, or, supposing such
a comraunity to exist, how long would they adhere
to the simple manners of their founder, with such a
source of corruption mingled with their very exist
ence ? Detachment from pleasure and from vanity,
frugal and simple habits, and a habitual close adher
ence to some particular trade or employment, are
circumstances that have a sure tendency to enrich the
individuals who practise them. This in the end Is
" to give humility a coach and six," that is, to
destroy the very principle of adhesion which binds
and continues the sect.
Highly estimable as a sect, these people were re-

AN AMERICAN LADY 227
spectable and amiable in their collective capacity as
a colony. But then it was an institution so con
structed, that, without a miracle, its virtues must
have expired with its minority, I do not here speak
of the necessity of its being governed and protected
by those of different opinions, but merely of wealth
stagnating without its proper application. Of this
humane comraunity it Is but just to say, that they
were the only Europeans in the new world who al
ways treated the Indians with probity like their own,
and with kindness calculated to do honor to the faith
they professed. I speak of them now In their col
lective capacity. They too are the only people
that, in a temperate, judicious (and, I trust, success-
fill), manner, have endeavored, and still endeavor to
convert the Indians to Christianity ; for them too
was reserved the honorable distinction of being the
only body who sacrificed interest to huraanity, by
voluntarily giving freedom to those slaves whom
they held in easy bondage. That a government so
constituted could not, in the nature of things, long
exist, is to be regretted ; that it produced so much
good to others and so much comfort and prosperity
to its subjects while it did exist, is an honorable tes
timony of the worth and wisdom of its benevolent
founder.

Chapter XXX
PROSPECTS BRIGHTENING IN AMERICA
HOWEVER discouraging the prospect of so
ciety on this great continent raay at present
appear, there is every reason to hope tirae, and the
ordinary course of events, raay bring about a desir
able change ; but in the present state of things, no
governraent seeras less calculated to proraote the
happiness of its subjects, or to ensure permanence
to itself, than that feeble and unstable system which
is only calculated for a community coraprising more
virtue, and more union than such a heterogeneous
mixture can be supposed to have attained. States,
like individuals, purchase wisdom by suffering, and
they have probably much to endure before they
assume a fixed, determined form.
Without partiality it raay be safely averred, that
notwithstanding the severity of the climate, and
other unfavorable circumstances, the provinces of
British America are the abode of more present
safety and happiness, and contain situations more
favorable to future establishments, than any within
the limits of the United States.
To state all the grounds upon which this opinion
is founded, might lead me into discussions, narra-

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J^ttttf^

North Pearl Street from State Stree

et to Maiden Lane

AN AMERICAN LADY 229
tives, and description which might swell into a
volume, more interesting than the preceding one.
But being at present neither able or incHned to do
justice to the subject, I shall only briefly observe
first, with regard to the government, it is one to
which the governed are fondly attached, and which
like religion becoraes endeared to its votaries, by the
sufferings they have endured for their adherence to
it. It is consonant to their earliest prejudices, and
sanctioned by hereditary attachment. The climate
is indeed severe, but It is steady and regular, the
skies in the interior are clear, the air pure. The
summer, with all the heat of warm climates to cher
ish the productions of the earth, is not subject to
the drought that in such climates scorches and de
stroys them. Abundant woods furnish shelter and
fuel, to mitigate the severity of winter ; and strearas
rapid and copious flow in all directions to refresh
the plants and cool the air, during their short but
ardent suraraer.
The country, barren, at the sea-side, does not
afford an inducement for those extensive settlements
which have a tendency to become merely commer
cial from their situation. It becomes more fertile
as it recedes further from the sea. Thus holding
out an inducement to pursue nature into her favor
ite retreats, where on the banks of mighty waters,
calculated to promote all the purposes of social
trafiic among the inhabitants, the richest soil, the
happiest climate, and the raost complete detachment

230 MEMOIRS OF
frora the world, promises a safe asylum to those
who carry the arts and the literature of Europe,
hereafter to grace and enlighten scenes where agri
culture has already raade rapid advances.
In the dawning light which already begins to rise
in these remote abodes, much may be discovered of
what proraises a brighter day. Excepting the rem
nant of the old Canadians, who are a very inoffen
sive people, patient and cheerful, attached to
monarchy, and much assimilated to our modes of
thinking and living, these provinces are peopled, for
the most part, with inhabitants possessed of true
British hearts and principles. Veterans who have
shed their blood, and spent their best days in the
service of the parent country, and royalists who
have fled here for a refuge, after devoting their prop
erty to the support of their honor and loyalty ; who
adhere together and form a society graced by that
knowledge, and those raanners, which rendered them
respectable in their original state, with all the experi
ence gained from adversity ; and that elevation of
sentiraent which results from the consciousness of
having suffered in a good cause. Here, too, are
clusters of eraigrants, who have fled, unacquainted
with the refinements, and uncontaminated by the
old world, to seek for that bread and peace, which
the progress of luxury and the change of manners
denied thera at horae. Here they corae in kindly
confederation, resolved to cherish in those kindred
groups, which have left with social sorrow their

AN AMERICAN LADY 231
native raountains, the custoras and traditions, the
language and the love of their ancestors, and to find
comfort in that religion, which has been ever their
support and their shield, for all that they have left
behind.^ It is by tribes of individuals intimately connected
with each other by some coraraon tie, that a country
is most advantageously settled ; to which the obvi
ous superiority in point of principle and union that
distinguishes British Araerica frora the United
States, is chiefly owing. Our provinces afford no
room for wild speculations either of the commercial
or political kind ; regular, raoderate trade, promis
ing little beyond a comfortable subsistence, and
agriculture, requiring rauch industry and settled
habits, are the only paths open to adventurers ; and
the chief induceraent to eraigration is the possibility
of an attached society of friends and kindred, finding
room to dwell together, and meeting, in the depth
of these fertile wilds, with similar associations.
Hence solitary and desperate adventurers, the vain,
the turbulent, and the ambitious, shun these regu
lated abodes of quiet industry, for scenes more
adapted to their genius.
I shall now conclude ray recollections, which cir
cumstances have often rendered very painful ; but
1 It is needless to enlarge on a subject, to which Lord Selkirk has
done such araple justice, who wanted nothing but a little experience
and a little aid, to make the best practical comments on his own
judicious observations, — Mrs. Grant.

232 MEMOIRS OF
will not take upon me to enlarge on those hopes
that stretch a dubious wing into temporal futurity,
in search of a brighter day, and a better order of
things. Content if I have preserved sorae records
of a valuable life; thrown some glimmering light
upon the progress of society in that pecuhar state,
which it was my fate to witness and to share, and
afforded some hours of harmless amusement to those
lovers of nature and of truth, who can patiently
trace their progress through a tale devoid alike of
regular arrangeraent, surprising variety, and artificial
embellishraent. The reader, who has patiently gone on to the
conclusion of these desultory raeraoirs, will perhaps
regret parting with that singular association of
people, the Mohawk tribes, without knowing where
the few that reraain have taken up their abode. It
is but doing justice to this distinguished race to
say, that, though dirainished, they were not sub
dued; though voluntary exiles, not degraded. Their
courage and fidelity were to the last exerted In the
most trying exigencies. True to their alliance with
that nation with whora they had ever lived in friend
ship, and faithful to that respectable family, who had
formed at once the cement and the medium by which
that alliance was confirraed, and through which as
surances of attachraent and assistance had been trans
mitted, all that reraained of this powerful nation
followed Sir John Johnson (the son of their revered

AN AMERICAN LADY 233
Sir William) into Upper Canada, where they now
find a home around the place of his residence. One
old man alone, having no living tie remaining, would
not forsake the torabs of his ancestors, and remains
like " a watchman on the lonely hill ; " or rather like
a sad memento of an extinguished nation.

APPENDIX

MRS. ANNE GRANT'S LETTERS TO DR. JOSEPH
GREEN COGSWELL, 1819-1821
CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN MRS. ALEXANDER
HAMILTON AND MRS. GRANT IN 1834
COMMUNICATIONS FROM MRS. GRANT TO MRS.
DOUGLAS CRUGER, 1 837-1 838
LETTERS TO MRS. GRANT FROM ROBERT SOUTHEY
AND OTHERS, 1811-1834
"THE INDIAN WIDOW," AND LINES ADDRESSED TO
AN AMERICAN LADY BY MRS. GRANT
A LIST OF MRS. GRANT'S WRITINGS

APPENDIX

LETTERS TO DR, JOSEPH GREEN COGSWELL^
Amendell House, Dec. 12, 1819.
My dear Sir, — I must begin by assuring you that very soon
after the receipt of your letter from Leipsic I bestowed all my te
diousness upon you in a long and minute epistle, and though I were
as tedious as a queenlike Dogberry, I made your honor very wel
come. You may believe, I regret exceedingly that what I took so
much pains to write should never have reached you. But there is
no intellectual treasure lost, for I remember merely that it was a
gossiping letter, containing all the little occurrences of the town,
which I thought would be as acceptable to you as any wit or
wisdom of mine, ifl had such to bestow. I was much amused in
the meantime with your letter, and all the lazy luxury and rural
lounges of your Leipsic friends. I should exempt the ladies from this
charge, who seem to have been like the little busy bee in the chil
dren's hymn. I cannot now recollect or arrange all that I told
you in my former letter, but go on to say how much we were
amused by a visit from young John Lowell and a good-natured
heavy friend of his. Porter by name, as unlike himself as possible,
I might tell you too of the pains I took to amuse them, and par-
1 Joseph Green Cogswell (1786-1871) spent two years with George Ticknor
at Gottingen University, and later the two young New Englanders were guests of
Sir Walter Scott at Abbotsford. Becoming the friend and companion of Halleck
and Irving, he was appointed with them a Trustee of the Astor Library, later
becoming its Superintendent, and purchasing the books in Europe. Dr. Cogs
well had met Goethe, Humboldt, Byron, Beranger, and almost all of the briUiant
Edinburgh literary circle of Mrs. Grant's era, having spent the winter of 1818-19
there. He was perhaps the greatest favorite among her many American friends
and correspondents.

238 APPENDIX
ticularly how I did go down to Stirling with them, including in
the party a very admirable English clergyman who was here upon
a tour through Scotland, Ryland by name ; also Miss Steven and
Miss North, to both of whom Stirling was new. How fine the
weather was, how smooth the motion of the steamboat, and how
beautiful, grand, and classical the scenery, I shall not attempt to
say. Nor yet — for that would prove difficult — how much my
fellow-travellers — your countrymen — were particularly delighted.
Of the hospitality of good old friends to so large a party I could
not say enough. Suffice that, after three days of much enjoyment,
both lively and serene, we proceeded homewards, Mr, Ryland
westward, and the Bostonians to Loch Katrine, all parting with
much mutual regret, A period follows of which I have a very
confused recollection from the rapid succession of strangers, with
letters of introduction, to whom I felt obliged, as best I could, to
do the honors of Edinburgh, They were persons whom it was a
pleasure to see and serve, but came in such quick succession that
they have not kept the place they deserved in my memory, Mrs,
Fletcher had gone with her family to visit her relations in York
shire, Every one else that strangers care for was out of town, by
which means I stood alone to do these duties of hospitality. In
August Mrs, F., with her daughters, went to London, My son was
pressed to spend his holidays with our friends the Ruckers, and Angus
Fletcher being to go up at the same time, they went together,
Mrs, Fletcher's journey proved very interesting, from her present
intercourse with persons whom to name is to praise, — Joanna
Baillie, Lady Byron, Thomas Campbell, Mrs, Barbauld, Mrs,
Fry, and numberless names of less renown, the rest unknown to
fame, John [Mrs, Grant's son] was very fortunate in the kind
ness of his friends. Not content with showing him all that could
amuse or improve him, they went purposely to Oxford, staying
two days to show it to him, and carried him on a tour they were
making to the Isle of Wight, He staid six or seven weeks. Mean
time, we too had an enjoyment, I must go back to tell you Miss
North, a little before this time, went reluctantly to London ; that
Miss Futher, a very fine girl, and her brothers, two handsome,
modest, and well informed young man, were among our summer
guests — that they wished her to return, but she implored and

APPENDIX 239
obtained a respite for another year — that they carried her with
them all over the Highlands for a fortnight, which delighted them
not a little, and confirmed her Scottish mania ; also that Moore
[Mrs, Grant's daughter], taking a fancy to spend a little time in
the sheltering retreats of beautiful Dunkeld, we proceeded there
early in August, and though pressed by many Highland friends to
stay with them, and within a day's journey of Laggan, I took lodg
ings in the pretty little town of Dunkeld, I received a letter from
the Duchess of Athol, then at Blair, giving free access to all her
walks and gardens in that delightful spot. The clergy of the place
(there are two) are both learned and most agreeable men, and
made to us the most pleasant neighbors imaginable. We were
overwhelmed with kindness by the gentry in the vicinity, and cer
tainly before the cordiality of Highland kindness that of others
sinks into mere civility. Seeing we would not come, they sent us
everything you could think of — among the rest a pretty little pony
for Moore to ride as long as pleased her, of which she made great
use. The only thing like an event that occurred to us was my
meeting with Prince Leopold, which took place in consequence of
a visit I paid to the Izetts of Kinnaird, Mrs. Izett, a very amiable
woman, with a highly cultivated mind, was the particular friend of
the late Mrs. Brunton, to whom her published letters are chiefly
addressed. Staying a few very pleasant days with her, half-way
betwixt Dunkeld and Blair, we heard the Prince, who had dined
the day before with the Duke, was to pass through the Kinnaird
grounds on his way to Lord Breadalbane's. Resolved on getting a
complete view of him, we went down to the River Tummel, where
he must needs cross. He left his horses to be fed in the village,
and crossed with the intention to walk on, attended by only three
or four gentlemen. He met us, and spoke to us. I was formally
introduced to him, conversed with him a little, and might have
prolonged that pleasure had I not been doubtful of encroaching on
his politeness. I was charmed with his appearance. Yet his
singular fate — the sudden elevation and more sudden depression of
"this husband of a year, this father of aday " — pressed so heavily
on my mind, that I spoke to him with a hesitation that the sense of
superior rank would never have produced . Do you remember Colonel
Stuart ? Now I think of it, he was not in Edinburgh in your day.

240 APPENDIX
He was the Prince's cicerone in his native Breadalbane, and a very
fit one, for a truer or braver Highlander breathes not. Three
weeks, three little weeks, I spent in Athol, and then removed to
Dumblane, on account of its medicinal waters, recommended to
Moore. This abode too I liked exceedingly — the old Cathedral,
the solemn walks, the good Bishop Leighton's memory and his
library, had all charms for me ; but the greatest charm was that
leisure and perfect freedom to which in general I am so much a
stranger, and living for the time merely with and for my dear girls.
We lived a great deal within that fortnight, and sadly reluctant
was I to leave, though a call of duty as well as of friendship sum
moned me at the time, and I left Isabella and Moore to enjoy the
quiet and the waters a week longer. I found my sick friend better,
and then went to spend three happy weeks at Jordanhill, with
that dear family whose firm and tender attachment has been the
cordial of my life for forty years past, and whose excellent children
inherit their parents' feelings towards me and mine. Three other
weeks passed here, I need not say how pleasantly. I was then
obliged to return home, having to meet a gentleman who had
placed a daughter with me, Ildeton by name. I should have staid
on the way with the Hon. Mrs. Erskine at Amendell, whom you
must remember. She remembers you perfectly. We had agreed
to pass the week ofthe musical festival, which we both wished to
avoid, in this retreat, but it could not be. What I dreaded took
place, I was obliged to go to the festival, and to see a balloon fly
over the Calton Hill, etc. The consequence was that I caught a
violent cold, attended with other unpleasant symptoms. I was
seriously ill, and kept the house six weeks. I began to go out a
very little, and was really much better, when Mrs, Erskine pre
vailed on me, very easily indeed, to accompany her, with one other
lady. Here I am so very well, so perfectly quiet, spending my
time so much to my wish, and in such congenial society. Hear
ing too such good accounts of Moore, that I dread next week, when
I must fly this abode of pensive peace to mingle with the crowd,
and be at cross purposes about various engagements. Now, after
all this egotism, it is time to speak of other people. We have
Miss Stanger, very much improved, and Miss Ildeton, from Eng
land ; Miss Steven, much come out and handsome, and a fine.

a

APPENDIX 241
good girl ; Miss Crochs from the West Country. Miss Edward and
Mr. Crawford fell out violently, — he went to London, and she to
old friends near Leith, who brought her up. They wished to
seclude her among them from a fear that she would, doubtless,
marry Captain Macdonald. I understand she is about to leave
them, and think it is likely she will marry the Captain after all. Do
you remember the Captain's pretty sister, Jacobina .? She is lately
married to a very ill-looking and very silly Yorkshire baronet, under
age, — some years younger than herself, but possessed of twelve
thousand a year. Her sister is gone up with her. A marriage has
just taken place which gives the utmost concern to the friends of
both parties. It is that ofthe thrice beautiful Miss Maclean with
very idle and shallow young man, Clark, a younger brother of
Clark of Comrie, totally unprovided, and without any feasible
prospect. They say the glory of carrying her off privately was the
chief motive. I was thunderstruck at hearing this to-day, having
imagined that she was on the way to India with Lady Loudon or
Hastings. You hardly know so much of young Lady Thomas
Cochran as would make you sorry for her death, which happened
a month ago, after the birth of a child. You remember the Stotts,
Their son is gone to Oxford this season, and they are very sensibly
gone too — to watch over him. Do you remember Mr. Frederic
Grant ? He is just married to a very lovely and accomplished girl
of his own name, who was a while our very pleasant inmate.
They are gone, accompanied by her sister, to spend a year on the
Continent, You may possibly meet them in Paris ; pray be on the
lookout for them. How much I should admire the taste of Augustus
[Thorndike] if it led him to fall in love with her ! He will see few
so elegant, none more amiable or accomplished. I heard of a loss
with much regret to-day, though not with more concern than the
news of Miss Maclean's marriage. It is the death of that of an
excellent and much loved person, Mrs. Col. Gerrard, the daughter
of Rev. Mr. Allison, and the mother of five children. It took
place in Lausanne, where she went in full health, and caught
this fatal typhus fever. I thank you for translating to me in idea the
great sublime of nature, which carried you "Beyond the visible
Diurnal sphere," while the Alps in all their lofty grandeur and
snowy purity lay before you. I have much curiosity about Bo-
VOL. II. — 16

242 APPENDIX
hernia. Why did you not tell me more of my long admired and
much approved Tyrolese ? I would tell you much of Edinburgh,
and all the architectural wonders that have been wrought in your
absence, but I have a strong hope that you will see it again, and
wish you to be agreeably surprised. Mr, Arthur, a gentleman of
family with a strong taste for literature, is with his family at
Tours, His wife is a sister of Mrs, Gillies, and was a visitor of
mine. Will you deliver my compliments to her ? I know some
other people at Tours, but forget at this moment who they are.
Crawford is coarse, but not malicious. I take it that Miss
Edward, who has a great relish for the pleasure of giving pain,
took particular pains to make him jealous of you. He said to me
that you were full of nonsensical German romance, and I do not
think he said more to any one. All reporters, whether in or out
of the House of Commons, are given to exaggerate. I say nothing
of the acts of Radicals — you will find them all in the papers —
only that I view them with a countenance more in sorrow than in
anger, and not in the least in fear, I am glad Augustus goes home.
My good wishes follow him, I wish they could overtake him
with the effect of making him do justice to a very good heart and
respectable understanding. Write from Paris, and believe me, with
sincere good will and much regard. Yours, Anne Grant,
P, S, —Answered instantly upon receipt, Mrs, Erskine sends her
compliments to you, and wishes much thatyouwere here again with us.
101, Princes Street, [Edinburgh] 24th May, 1819.
My DEAR Sir, — I received your letter with very great pleasure,
for I do love to be remembered, and were I writing of you instead
of addressing yourself to you, I should describe the sort of persons
by whom I most desire to be remembered. But you are so tend
erly cherished by friends whose praise is fame, that my mite of
approbation would scarce be noticed amidst the abundance of these
testimonies of affection, sweetened with encomiums (more sincere
than most such), that you receive from others. Now, I purposely
delayed writing that I might not send fear or sorrow over the sea.
Yet I have begun very meritoriously in the pangs of a rheumatic
toothache, but this is merely pain, which you know some philoso-

APPENDIX 243
phers considered as no evil. So do not I. But you know too
well when we have felt the extremity of mental agony how lightly
mere bodily pain appears in comparison. But now to my narra
tion. Soon after I received your letter I was seized with an in
fluenza, which has for some weeks past been epidemical in town,
Isabella had it before, in her meek, quiet way saying very little
about it. Nor should I have said much had it not come in a
questionable hour, with so violent and continual a cough, that I had
not an interval of quiet. This lasted three weeks, I am thankful
to say I am now quite well. But a much greater alarm awaited
me, Moore, my dear Moore, whose sound and powerful mind
has been so long and severely tried with illness, was recovering
very fast and preparing her dress to go out, when she was seized
so very severely with this influenza that we were terrified for the
result. It came in the shape of fever, and has reduced her very
much, but, thank God, she is now decidedly recovering, though
still confined to bed, and her medica] attendant thinks that this will
be the means of curing her tedious rheumatism, I have been the
fuller in these details to account for my silence, I do not like to
practise on the feelings of my absent friends, and therefore seldom
acquaint them with any crisis of this nature till it determines one
way or other. Before I close this list of calamities I must call
forth your sympathy for one in which your countryman has been
involved, — not being so selfish as to demand it all for Scottish
suffering. The all-accomplished Mr. Livingston, like many other
distinguished characters, prides himself most on that in which he
excels least ; namely, horsemanship, which he seems (or did seem)
to class with the moral virtues. He came to us one night in a
state of visible perturbation. We thought something terrible had
happened, and so it proved. For a little horse, a most treacherous,
deceitful animal, had run off with him for some miles. Preserving
, his balance without being thrown off and arriving safe in town, ap
peared to him such an exploit as to deserve an ovation at least.
Meantime he had evidently come to tell us lest we should have
heard it reported to his disadvantage, and was most anxious to
show us it was from no defect in his skill that this happened. In
less than a fortnight, as he was riding past the post office, his
horse fell with him and broke his arm at the elbow in the most pain-

244 APPENDIX
ful and shattering way imaginable. You can conceive nothing
more distressing, and he has not even the consolation of looking
like a hero of a duel, with his arm in a scarf. He is forced to
hold it perpendicularly down, and will have no use of his arm for
many months, I am quite seriously vexed for him. He is not in
visiting condition, you may suppose, I heard to-day that the acci
dent happened by his throwing himself in a fright from the horse.
Though he does not visit in general he comes often here, and we
are at pains to amuse him. Miss Edmund has left us for some time
to stay with old friends at the seaside. Of literary news I have
little. Dr. Brunton has published a short, modest, and very well
written memoir of his admirable wife, with a fragment of a tale
beautifully executed, as far as it goes, which she left unfinished, and
some partial extracts of a journal in which her vigorous mind and
sound discernment are very obvious. Campbell's Specimens of
English Poetry, with short critical notices, appeared, I think, be
fore you left us. The little of himself that intervenes between
these specimens is exquisite. I read them over and over with ever
new delight, and when I cease reading a sensation remains on my
mind that makes me think of what Milton says :
" The Angel ended, but in Adam's ear
So charming left his voice, that he awhile
Still thought him speaking, still stood fixed to hear."
So much refinement without fastidiousness, such perfect delicacy
and truth of taste, and moreover so much truth and wisdom conveyed
in language of classical purity and unequalled sweetness. People
growl at there being so little of these precious strictures. Would
they drink champagne out of tumblers ? The Blackwood has lost
all shame. The last number is perfectly vindictive against the
Whig observances in the bitterest satire and the keenest ridicule.
There is, for instance, an Alphabet on the plan of A, was an archer
and shot at a frog, etc., in which each name has some undesir
able attribute. There are such complaints as might remind one
of " Cocytus named for lamentation loud." They meantime sell
four thousand numbers and laugh at censure. The Rev. Mr.
Morehead has undertaken Constable's Magazine, the Crafty man
having as usual quarrelled with his Editors and dismissed them.

APPENDIX 245
Wordsworth has published a Peter Bell, enough to make the gravest
laugh, the worthiest weep ; it is so absurd, and the worthless waste
of an amiable man's talents is so lamentable. It is a kind of sequel
to the Lyrical Ballads, The White Doe was below zero, and
this is below the White Doe, Some wag anticipated without see
ing it, and published a very comical Peter Bell of his own, assuring
his readers that this was the real Simon pure, and that any ap
pearing after, must be a counterfeit. There is also a very witty
Examiner published in ridicule of Leigh Hunt' s, as written by him
self. The Edinburgh Review has come out two days ago, duller
than I have ever known it, containing, however, very just praise of
Campbell and quite sufficiently laudatory of Samuel Rogers, whose
poems I like better than I thought I should. All the other articles
are medical, surgical or Broughamical. That is, it is loaded with
a long bitter defence of Brougham about the schools, defending
him from the strictures in the Quarterly. The hostility between
these rival powers grows daily warmer. I compare them to two
champions in the lists, while Blackwood and Constable appear in
their respective magazines as the attendant squires of these doughty
knights. Walter Scott called the other day to take leave, saying
he could not go away without shaking hands with me, but was
afraid so much had he been shaken that I would scarcely know him,
but mistake him for a Potato Bogle ! Pity an image so thoroughly
Scotch, and so untranslatable, should be lost on you ! ^ It is time
now to do what a well-bred person would have done at first, i.e.,
advert to your letter. I was aware that your voyage would be
neither short nor pleasant, I am charmed with your intelligent
peasant that loved his own ugly country so well. Such countries
are always best loved by such of the natives as are capable of
loving anything. You know better than I can tell you what an
added demonstration this affords of the benevolent wisdom that
governs all. But you cannot know so well as I could tell you,
how many endearing virtues often flourish best in barren soils.
But having been already "as tedious as a King," I do not feel
^ A dozen years later Sir Walter made use of the same expression when Wash
ington Irving called on the illustrious author then in London, on his way to Italy,
in the vain hope of restoring his shattered health. Vide " Bryant and his
Friends," p. 163, New York, 1886.

246 APPENDIX
inclined to bestow much more of my tediousness upon your wor
ship. I might have addressed you in terms sentimental or meta
physical considering where this will find you. But you will meet so
much of both these commodities where you are, that it is needless
to send over the sea what you have in abundance, and I wish merely
to amuse you. You are far too well governed, I trust, in all that
is right, to seek advice from me, and I have no ambition to be con
sidered a fine letter writer, so you must accept a little harmless
gossip. Lady Buchan has been dead about a week, to his Lord
ship's undissembled joy, and he has already asked and been refused
by a young lady, but will learn to be satisfied with some more
humble choice. The Fletchers are very well and inquire of you
very tenderly. The young ones talk of a short tour to the Con
tinent, I beg to be kindly remembered to Augustus [Thorn
dike] , for whom I retain no small kindness, though I am provoked
at his not doing more justice to himself. He is the prey of self-dis
trust, while others with neither his goodness of heart nor abilities,
being themselves forward by mere dint of self-opinion and confi
dent address, I am glad that you will return less Germanized than
formerly, Herman is a very honest and willing and laborious
drudge in the mine of science. But his taste is bad and his notions
crude and unformed. His religion is very sentimental, mystic, and
approaching to Deistical, And good that doubleth has a httle trim
ming of French tinsel of which he is himself insensible. Then
he will talk — ye gods, how he will talk ! — and after all his talk is
"rendered heavily, heavily " by the enthusiastic German philoso
pher Sir William Hamilton, who spoke much and very kindly of
you. Now that this paper is done, I think of things I should have
told you. Let me hear how you get on. All this family send
affectionate remembrances to you.
I am, with sincere regard, very much yours, Anne Grant,
Never was May so mild, so showery and so flowery as this.
Mount Annan, 22 August, 1820.
My dear Sir, — You have escaped from me while my hands
were stretched out in all directions to seize upon you. It grieved
me not a little, in the first place, that I was forced to leave Edin-

APPENDIX 247
burgh while you were there. Then I flattered myself with having
enough of antiquated attraction to keep you a day at Moffat on
your way up. Then being engaged to make a visit to General
Direm's at Mount Annan, I went with the intention of returning
to bonny Moffat when I should hear that you were in Edinburgh,
that I might meet you, John wrote to me that you were leaving
Edinburgh on the ensuing Friday. I was bustling about my prep
arations for departure. My friends, understanding my motive,
persuaded me that by leaving them at the time, I should pass you
on the road, I wrote to Isabella at their request to direct you and
your companion, if such you had, to come here on your way
to Mount Annan, just overlooking the town of Annan, through
which you must necessarily pass. Not content with authorizing
this invitation, the General, who is an excellent person, sent a
note himself to the inn where the coach stops, inviting you. We
meanwhile thought every person less than six feet high who came
up the avenue must needs be you. After all, need I add words to
convince you of your importance in my eyes, or of the excess of
disappointment when informed by a letter from Isabella this even
ing, saying you had been hastily called to London, and if I wished
to give you the last remaining proof of my tenderness, I must write
to you there immediately. This, you see, I am doing with aU my
might, though the man is hurrying to the post office, and though
this fine house of Mount Annan, which abounds in pleasant people
and good things, does not after all afford a tolerable pen. Judge
how eloquent I should be if I had a very good one. In this in
spiring place, where the Cumberland mountains are in fiill sight of
my window, and where every town and stream speak of the
"Bold Buccleuch " and Willy of Kinmont, of belted knights and
desperate forays, I cannot so much as walk among these beautiful
shades by moonlight for fear of meeting one of the Wardens of the
English Border. When will so many associations and so many
dignified spectres meet you on the other side of the Atlantic .? The
most you have to look at is the angry spirit of some old sachem
who died of new rum or the smallpox, given him by his white
fi-iends. For Washington and Patrick Henry must be at east a
hundred years dead before they can
"Revisit thus the glimpses ofthe moon.
Making night hideous."

248

APPENDIX

For a ghost to appear impressive must be as long dead before he is
awful, as a Catholic saint before he is canonized.
You are perhaps shocked at all this levity in a farewell letter,
but pray observe, I do not consider it such. You cannot do less
after all my solicitude than write to me from London, Answer
you I shall, though "Broad seas between us roll and roar."
And see you I will, having already a "second sight" of you
landing at Greenock. I dare say, however, you may take a fancy
to see your new western world first. In that case you will meet
Mr. Preston, and be sure you tell him that in consideration of all the
good I have heard of him since he went westward, I forgive his
breach of promise to me. This kind message will at once prove
my constancy, my clemency, and my high esteem for even imper
fect virtue, for, had his been perfect, he would have kept his word.
I will not say how sorry I shall be not to see you more, or allow
myself to think the separation final, I thought (what did I not
think ?) of the many letters I was to send by you to my many
American friends, but you see that cannot be. Remember me,
however, tenderly to Mrs, Jackson, whom I highly esteem, and
fondly to Sarah Lowell, whom I truly love, centering in her and her
brother the regard now exalted into veneration, which I felt for the
departed worthies of their family. If you see Mr, Bigelow, pray
tell him that I did not receive his long letter of last year, though
I acknowledged it in a hurry by mistake, Augustus [Thorndike]
has been too long in France to care about old friends or early recol
lections, else I should send him my kind regards. Present them,
however, to Mr, Ticknor,^
1 The following extract from a letter addressed to a Transatlantic correspondent,
also alludes to Mr. George Ticknor of Boston, and several other friends and visitors
from the new world : " The American character has been much raised among
our literary people here, by a constellation of persons of brilliant talents and polished
manners, by whom we were dazzled and delighted last winter. A Mr. Preston of
Virginia (South Carolina) and his friend from Carolina, whose name I cannot
spell, for it is French (Hugh S. Legare), Mr. Ticknor and Mr. Cogswell were
the most distinguished representatives of your new world, A handsome and high
bred Mr. Ralston, from Philadelphia, whose mind seemed equal to his other attrac
tions, left also a very favorable impression of Transatlantic accomplishments. These

The East Sidi. of Market Street, now Broadway, prom XL^jden Lane Sol

APPENDIX 249
The Post calls. Pray write from London, and believe, wher
ever you go, you will be followed by the affectionate good wishes
of, dear sir. Yours most cordially, Anne Grant.

101 Princes Street, April 14, 1821.
My dear Sir, — You cannot suppose me to have forgotten you,
though perhaps I have been too long in telling you so. Your affec
tionate and most valued letter on the eve of departure from the old
world filled me with regret at your departure and concern for
your health. That seemed too good an excuse for your not com
ing to Moffat. You cannot imagine how we all luxuriated in the
simple, pastoral, and mild tranquillity of our most desirable abode
there. I wished you to have a picture of that green dale of many pure
streams with its sheltering mountains, and the friends who so often
spoke and thought of you there, to sooth your imagination where you
could only see meeting seas and skies. I thank you for the affectionate
expression of your regard, because I know it to be perfectly sincere.
So Hamlet says to Horatio : " Why should the poor be flattered ? "
Amidst very many and very deep afflictions the consolation has
been vouchsafed to me of dwelling in comfort with the excellent of
the earth, and breathing in such an atmosphere of the warmest
friendship and purest virtue that I must have been something more
"Than fables e'er have feigned or been conceived " not to profit
by such an association. I was certainly very anxious to know of
your health after your arrival, and did hear good accounts of you,
but I cannot remember how. Indeed my recollections have been
a good deal confused in consequence of an accident which en
dangered my hfe, and has confined me to the house in a very
helpless state all winter, I am really tired of answering inquiries
about this same fall, and most unwiUing to sink into the habits too
frequent among invalids of my age and sex — that of making my
self and my personal calamities the subject of wearisome details, I
have been obliged to teU the sad story of the fall and its conse-
were all very agreeable persons, Mr. Ticknor pre-eminently so, and I can assure
you ample justice was done to their merits here,"

250

APPENDIX

quences so frequently that I revolt at the repetition of it, but from
our mutual friends, the Sewells, you can hear all the painful parti
culars. The enjoyment of last summer and autumn, the tranquil
freedom and domestic comforts of Moffat, and the succeeding
delights of the Southern Border more vivid and more varied re
quired a counterbalance, and they have found it,
I do not exactly recollect whether you traced the classic streams
ofthe Tweed, the Jed, and the Teviot in the same direction that
I did when paying a visit to an old friend in September last. Yet
from your ardent curiosity about things worth seeing, I think you
must have gone there were it but to see the fine skeleton of Melrose
Abbey, beautiful in decay and commemorated in all its pristine
dignity in "The Monastery," which I take it for granted you
have read, and which I value much more than most readers do,
because it contains an accurate and pleasing sketch of a mode of
life hitherto nondescript, yet very interesting. That the church
vassals were indeed the only vassals in those troublous times who
quietly enjoyed the fruits in the stormy bounds of the restless
Borders, such a peaceful and comparatively free community is as
refreshing to the mind that contemplates it as a green oasis must
have been in the wastes of Arabia Deserta, Glendearg did not live
merely in my imagination, for before quitting the fair region of
shadowy recollections I spent two or three days at the house of a
gentleman who lives a mile from the Abbey, and by the individ
ual ford where the white hind mounted behind the mule of the
bewildered priest. On the other side of the Tweed opposite is
a very narrow glen, terrific for the common people from the noise
of winds and falling waters heard fitfully through its narrow winding
bounds. The common people call it the fairy glen. It has indeed
no other. It ascends slowly through Lord Somerville's grounds
till it reaches the boundary hills and wild moorlands, at which ter
mination are still remaining the ruins ofa small fortalice. My friends
and I tried this romantic and gloomy recess as far as we could go
without a carriage, but the path to the ruin is only fit for mules or
foot passengers. We went, however, further than we ought, for
it was so late that we made out our way with difficulty, and this
under thick shades by the gleams of a clouded moon. We returned
very weary and very charitably disposed toward the credulous

APPENDIX 251
peasantry, considering too that the musical contests of rival owls
were at the same time making night hideous. The Magician of
the Border has always originals in view, which is one reason that
his pictures seem always about to walk out of their frames,
I had great pleasure in my visit to this famous Minstrel, not only
from the cordiahty of my reception, but from seeing him look so
much better than I hoped, for his health had been very indifferent
before, but seems now quite restored. That happy pair (then
happy), John Lockhart and his wife, were there, — indeed her
father could not hve without Sophie, and is almost equally fond of
her husband. Poets and Prophets were said to have been, neither
indeed can exist, without an inspiration. We talked ofthat most
outrageous affair about the atrocious Queen which raged like a
pestilence, and was spread both by the deceivers and the deceived.
He said that of these fits of national excitement there had been
various instances, though none so extravagant as the present. He
added that these fits had always a crisis, and were generally suc
ceeded by a great revulsion of opinion, attended by shame and
remorse, I was glad to have his sanction of my own opinion, and
the end has justified his prediction. People here who from the
mere spirit of party (never a moral spirit had supported the canon
ization of Saint CaroUne) are now so much ashamed that I could
not be so cruel as to remind them of their foUy or worse. Indeed
the party begin to look very fooUsh and crestfaUen. They had
one short triumph of maUgnity lately occasioned by the fatal duel
which poor John Scot brought upon himself by his most unwarranted
and outrageous attack upon John Lockhart. John went up to
London in consequence of Scot's telUng his friend there that he
was willing and ready to give him satisfaction. When Lockhart
very unexpectedly made his appearance in London John Scot
shrunk from the contest in a manner which in the fashionable world
was considered evasive, as poor Scot could not take credit for hav
ing avoided the combat from a religious scruple. He began to feel
most bitterly the obloquy that must follow a most gross and unpro
voked insult foUowed by an evasion from either making a due
acknowledgment or having recourse to the usual resource for
wounded honor. In a fit of desperation he flew to John Lockhart's
friend and dragged him out by moonlight to find means of recover-

252 APPENDIX
ing the honor he was considered to have lost. Chrystie fired
purposely past him, but by some fatal misapprehension he, Scot,
continued the combat, and feU. When the news arrived here
Lockhart fainted upon hearing it, and was with difficulty recovered.
When the party saw he was so sensitive upon the occasion, they
spared no artifice to put his feeUngs and those of his family to tor
ture. But no more of this ungracious theme. Offences must
come, but woe to those by whom they come. And one has some
shame of the woe in resisting them.
At this moment an universal shade of woe hangs over Edinburgh
from a very different cause, Dr, Gregory is gone, lamented by
all, and has left no adequate successor, I mourn for him not
merely as a person I always admired and revered, but as a noble
specimen of genius and unblemished virtue, cast in a most peculiar
mould, , , , What an ancestry he had to look back had not his
own individual greatness been sufficient. On his Father's side a
race of Sages and Saints, eminent for science and beloved for good
ness. He was the fifth distinguished Gregory of his line — I
mean in the paths of science. That ancestor who was the favored
friend of Sir Isaac Newton had three sons who, at the same time,
held the three mathematical chairs of Oxford, Edinburgh, and
Aberdeen, Dr, Gregory's mother was a daughter of Lord Forbes,
the eldest Scotch Baron. On that side nobles and heroes graced
the line to which he gave additional lustre. He was not a man to
die rich, but added to the inheritance of such a name his family
wiU have what will support them. Very rich he might have been.
You mentioned in your letter the possibiUty, or more, of your
being here in the Spring, and perhaps this letter may miss you. It
is sent by a very amiable person, the Rev. Matthias Bruen,'^ whom
you would like very much if you knew him, and who has contrib
uted, with others you know, to leave a most favorable impression
1 A clergyman who for many years was in charge of the Bleecker Street Pres
byterian Church, New York. His widow survived until the last decade of the
nineteenth century, and a short time before her death Mrs. Bruen sent her grand
daughter, now the wife of Admiral Beaumont, R.N., for a certain small box, and
taking from it a sheaf of silvered hair, presented it to her friend Mrs. Pruyn of
Albany. Mrs. Grant had cut it off and given it to Mrs. Bruen more than half a
century previous. A part of it is among my most valued relics.

APPENDIX 253
ofthe American character among us. I assure you it never stood
so high as it does at present, Mr, Ticknor, Mr, Preston, and
yourself are tenderly remembered and often inquired after, especially
by the whole of the Clan Fletcher, Indeed among all our friends
the Sketch Book has greatly increased this prepossession. It is
universally read and admired beyond measure. In short, I think
we are all very much inclined at present, like good old people as
we are, to dote on our grand-children in the western world.
Now, if they had any such sympathy as that Milton teUs us of.
Eve's shadow in the Lake which came forward to meet her with
answering looks of love, all would be well. But while you are aU
seduced from your first and best love by the godless gaieties and the
dreaming and sceptical metaphysics of Germany, we hope in vain
to attract you. There is a very fine young man here now whom
I and every one else admires very much — a Mr. Middleton from
South Carolina, very cultivated, with pleasing manners, but I fear,
like all from the Southern states, no true Anti-GalUcan,
If you came here now you would be astonished at the extension
and improvement of Edinburgh since you saw it. The Fletchers ^
are well, and frequent in their inquiries for you. Now you must
write immediately, and tell me a great deal about Mr, Ticknor, to
whom I will address a few Unes by Mr, Bruen, if he does not go
tiU the mail-coach departs to-morrow. In any event I will write
to him soon. You will be sorry to hear that my poor Moore has
lost during the winter all that she gained in summer. But I hope
this season will do much for her. She shall not be another winter
in this cUmate, if God graciously pleases to spare her to me. All
the rest are well, and I look forward with humble hope to a com
plete recovery, though still a prisoner of hope. Accept the cordial
good wishes of the whole family, also of all the Fletchers, and
IMrs. Grant and Mrs. Eliza Fletcher (1770-1S58) were the two most dis
tinguished literary ladies of Edinburgh, who received visits from almost all strangers
of note. Both were fine conversationalists. Mrs. Grant, an extreme Tory,
rejoiced in a wide Tory coterie, and Mrs. Fletcher, an equally staunch Whig, was
surrounded by a large Whig circle, but, notwithstanding their differing politics, they
were most cordial and sincere fiiends. The latter was a lovable lady, who seems,
according to her portraits at fifteen and eighty, to prove that there is a beauty for
every age. Her surviving child, the widow of Sir John Richardson, the Arctic
explorer, edited her mother's autobiography. Svo, London, 1874.

254 APPENDIX
others whom I cannot enumerate. Offer the same to Mr, Ticknor,
and believe me, with esteem and affection.
Yours truly, Anne Grant.
IOI Princes Street, June 24, 1821,
My DEAR Sir, — When my mind is easier, I wiU endeavor to
write you an entertaining letter, not depending on the exertion of
my own powers, but from having the means of telling you much
of a tribe and people, both which I give you credit for remembering
very kindly. At present my communications must be very limited,
even confined to that domestic circle by which as by some magic
spell my thoughts have been for some time circumscribed. I can
not tell you of moving accidents of flood and field, like poor
Othello, nor yet of those strange people who each other eat, though
I could tell you of several who seemed much inclined to do so, and
of many singular characters which came in my way last summer. I
must allow that, however singular in other respects, their heads do
grow above their shoulders, and very extraordinary heads some of
them are. Certainly I could make an amusing letter of the trans
actions of last summer if I were not obliged to furnish a very sombre
one from the events succeeding these pleasant scenes and people
which memory delights to cherish. When then after my most
quiet and enjoyable residence at sweet pastoral Moffat, where I
wish much you had seen me, and where I cultivated an intimacy
with Dr, Ryerson, a wonderful evergreen sage, who flourished
nearly fifty years as first physician in the great court of not good
Catherine and that of her mad grandson of Russia. I have rarely
met at any time with a person of such a sound and lively intellect
— well bred, well informed, and most particularly judicious in
laying among his humble friends in Dumfries the fruits of his own
industry, and the munificence of his Imperial mistress. I wish I
could tell you of a fortnight I spent at Gen. Direm's, at his beautiful
seat at Mount Annan, which overlooks the Solway Firth, and where
I met some much valued companions of my early days, meanwhile
feeling that my dear Moore was getting better ; and that my no
less dear Isabella and she were very much enjoying the calm delights
of Moffat gave me spirit to relish every circumstance contributing to
enjoyment. In the beginning of September I came down a month

APPENDIX 255
before they returned to show Edinburgh to a very pleasing guest
from Ireland, who here made a pilgrimage from Harrowgate to see
me. After giving ten days to her I went to Roxburgh, where for
years past I promised to visit an old friend at Jedburgh and where
I passed a fortnight in wakening dreams and reveries in that land of
recollections where the Tweed and Teviot flow through the greenest
pastoral vales sung by the sweetest of pastoral, reaUy pastoral poets.
While the dark heaths, the battlefields of old, renowned in Scottish
classics and heroic ballads, as well as the fine remains of castles
and abbeys, preserve the memory of sages, saints, and patriot,
heroes that live in every truly Scottish breast. But I cannot wait
to describe my pilgrimage through this land of memorials or how high
my national spirit soared when I came to the spot consecrated of
old and rising in renewed celebrity —
" Where Tweed flows round holy Melrose,
And Eldon slopes to the plain,"
I did indeed think the scene very sad and fair, and required all the
fraternal cordiality with which I was received at Abbotsford to re
vive my spirits, I never saw the Great Magician look so well,
and regretted that I deferred my visit till my return homewards,
when my time was very Umited,
You will probably have heard of John Wilson's violent struggle
for the chair of moral philosophy and of his ultimate success.^
Sir WiUiam Hamilton was the unsuccessful candidate, though very
weU qualified and abounding in friends, but the Scotchman had
loaded poor John with so many slanderous accusations that proved

1 Mrs. Grant contributed to " Christopher North's " success by writing a
strong letter in his behalf, dwelling particularly on his excellent private character,
which had been attacked. It was to the Professor that our author was indebted
for the title of "Queen of the Blue-Stockings." Scott on one occasion said,
"She was so very cerulean," and Lockhart described heras " a shrewd and sly
observer." AUuding to one ofthe series of Scott's novels that appeared about this
period (1822), Mrs. Grant wrote to a friend, " I had a letter informing me that
'The Fortunes of Nigel,' in England, is accounted a failure. Honest John Bull
has not seen such a failure on his side of the Tweed since Shakespeare's time."

256 APPENDIX
unfounded, that he was elected to clear his character, and mortify
his enemies. His class is large, and his lectures said to be very
elegant. Sir WilUam next winter takes the historical chair. Per
haps I do not express it right. Prof, Seresby is prosecuting Black
wood for accusing him of ignorance in the Hebrew tongue, and
Lord Archibald Hamilton, the Corypheus of the Scotch Whigs,
prosecutes the Beacon for saying that he and his brother, the Duke,
deserted their part at HamUton last year for fear of the very Radi
cals whom their croaking had encouraged. As they actuaUy did
run away the trial is Ukely to be a merry one, at least his Lord
ship, like Falstaff, will be the cause of wit in others. The
Beacon is a paper offered to the Scotchmen, abounding in coarse
humor. It is the Scotch John Bull, Who are right and wrong
in this contest I pretend not to say, yet I think I can apprehend
pretty clearly who are witty and who dull. Twenty years
ago the triumphs of intellect were aU on the side ofthe Whigs,
They said, " We are the People, and Wisdom shall die with
us," Many of these meteors have been quenched in the darkness
of the grave, and the few survivors are grown worldly, dry and dull
enough. The light troops of imagination seem all engaged on the
other side, and the rising brood of young Tories sparkle with no
common effulgence. The King's promised visit, if it takes place,
will increase the number of deserters from the ancient faith. They
will be stigmatized as Rats, but wiU find comfort in supposing that
their adversaries look as small as mice on that occasion, Tom
Hamilton, Sir WUUam' s brother, who is the O' Doherty of Black
wood, was, to the wonder of all beholders, married. His wife
was a Miss Campbell, elegant in person and manners, highly cul
tivated, and possessed ofa considerable fortune, of which the stand
ard bearer had great need, GiUies, to whose political fame you
can be no stranger, has gone with his family, by way of doing some
thing original, to Germany, The Fletchers are away for a year's
residence to Yorkshire, on account of some old Aunt they have
there. I grieve to say that James Wilson, who certainly has more
real genius than any man in Edinburgh, has been for a twelve
month past with his sisters in Italy, on account of his health. They
went to take care of him, but he is coming home very Uttle if any-

APPENDIX 257
thing better, TeU Mr, Jay,i with my compliments, that Miss
Glassel,* that was, who lived with me for some years and is now
Lady John Campbell, has a son who wUl some time be Duke of
ArgyU, AU that shire was in a blaze with bonfires and iUumi
nations on the occasion. You wiU receive this from Mr, Green
wood, whom we all consider a very pleasing specimen of Transadantic
manners and abiUties. I have made in my present state of mind
no smaU effort for your amusement. Pray do as much for mine.
You know how many of your feUow-citizens are to me most in
teresting. Adieu, dear sir. Accept the kind regards of all here, as
weU as those of Yours very truly, Anne Grant.
1 Peter Augustus Jay, eldest son of Govemor John Jay. He was a prominent
member of the New York Bar, a gentleman of many accomplishments, and ex
ceedingly active in the social afiairs of the city during the first third of the nine
teenth century. As a young man, Mr. Jay accompanied his father as Secretary,
when he was appointed Minister to the Court of St. James, by Washington, in 1 794.
2 Miss Glassel, who spent several years with Mrs. Grant, and later married
Lord John Campbell, was the mother of the eighth Duke of Argyll, who expressed
to the editor of this volume, both in conversation and correspondence, much admi
ration for the literary abUity of the author of " The American Lady."

VOL. II. — 17

258 APPENDIX

CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN MRS. ALEXANDER
HAMILTON AND MRS. GRANT
MRS. HAMILTON TO MRS. GRANT
New York, June 13, 1834.
Dear Madam, — The kindness with which you have recollected aU
your early associations with my family, and the interest with which
your genius has created in the name of Schuyler, have prompted me
to address you this note. You will perhaps derive pleasure from
learning the state of our family. My brother PhiUp resides in this
city, in easy opulence, enjoying the respect ofthe community with
which our hereditary disease, the gout, does not permit him often
to mingle. He has two sons, one a confirmed bachelor, the other
secretly engaged to marry with one of my granddaughters, PhiUp,
the son of my brother John, lives at the family seat of Saratoga,
and is happily married to a beautiful woman. They have eight
daughters and a son. My brother Rensselaer resides not far from
him on the upper waters of the Hudson, My only surviving sister
married Mr. Cochran and lives at Oswego, where also resides a
daughter of my sister Angelica,^ The home of her brother Philip
1 Among a sheaf of Mrs. Grant's unpublished correspondence, I find the fol
lowing letter, dated New York, August 19th, 18 11, signed " Angelica Church,
bom Schuyler," and addressed, "Mrs. Grant, authoress of the Memoirs of an
American Lady, Edinburgh." As it has no postmark, it was probably sent by
private hand. Mrs. Church writes : " I have read with so much pleasure the
Memoirs of my aunt, whose virtues and manners you have so faithfully delineated,
that I feel myself impressed with a fervid desire to recall myself to your remem
brance. But whether you recoUect or not, Miss A. Schuyler, the eldest daughter
of Colonel, afterwards General Schuyler, she remembers with endeared recollections
the first time she saw you, In company with her governess, Mrs. Ross, at the old
home on the Flats. She then felt the emanations of your genius, and naturally
contrasted your conversation with that of the good, but unintelUgent, young persons

APPENDIX 259
Church is at AngeUca, in the Geneseo County, where he has been
a Judge and has around him extensive possessions, a charming wife,
and many children.
At the age of seventy-six I am stiU in the enjoyment of perfect
health, seeing my sons established in life and in prosperous circum
stances. Of these my third son, John, ^ has recently pubUshed the
first volume of the biography of his father, of which I beg to pre
sent you a copy, Aldiough it relates to subjects chiefly of Ameri
can interest, yet you will, I hope, find many things to amuse you,
showing the moral and inteUectual development of a mind always
exerted to promote the honor of his country and the happiness of
his fellow-creatures, but of a character perhaps too frank and inde
pendent for a Democratic people. The subsequent volumes wiU
embrace topics of high national interest and display traits of char
acter which will make even Scotland, so fertile in genius and
virtue, proud to enumerate him among her descendants. The
work you will see requires every indulgence. I may hope if it
comes before the Reviewers it may not receive too severe a
criticism.

of her narrow circle. A letter from my nephew, Mr. Van Rensselaer, to his father,
mentions your kind inquiries after all my family j let this also, dear Madam, excuse
me for wishing to know whatever relates to you and yours. As I pass many hours
at Laggan, and always visit it with renewed delight, your sorrows are my sorrows,
your friends and occupations are mine, and the ** Letters from the Mountains"
exalt and fill the mind. But they make me sadly regret that during my long resi
dence in London I did not know that Miss MacVIckar was Mrs. Grant, and on
the same island with myself, or I should have braved the bad roads over the rude
mountains to have conversed with the acquaintance of my youth, and have met with
her in the performance of those serious duties she so feelingly describes. If ever
you do me the favor to write, pray tell me sincerely If you recalled me. There has
been a most terrible flood in your former Castle Building Estate, Clarendon, but
what gives me a peculiar interest in Clarendon, it is made classic by your en
chanting pen. Adieu, dear Madam, whatever taste I have found pleasure in your
writings, I have still more In the contemplation and example of your excellence,
and with many recollections oftimes long past, I am, etc., etc.
1 John Church (1792-1882) was Hamilton's fourth son, his seniors being
Philip, Alexander, and James A. A second PhUip was born the year after the
eldest son was kiUed in a duel on the same spot, at Weehawken, where Burr shot
his father three years later. In calling John the M;></ son, Mrs. Hamilton pre
sumably referred to the living, with aU of whom the writer was acquainted.

26o APPENDIX
I have received from Mrs, Douglas Cruger many interesting in
cidents concerning you to which I have Ustened with my heart.
Indeed, at our age we can only enjoy life by cultivating our affec
tions, and in no mode can we receive more Uvely pleasure than by
continuing with a christian confidence in the future — the recol
lections of the days of our hopes.
With sentiments of great respect and regard, I remain, dear
Madam, Faithfully yours, Elizabeth Hamilton, *
P, S, — Mr, O, Rich, agent for American books. Red Lion
Square, London, has received instructions to deliver the volume to
your order, Edinburgh, Coates Crescent, i8 November, 1834,
Dear Madam, — It is not easy to say how much I was delighted
with the kind feeling which dictated your most welcome and grati
fying letter. So many grateful and affectionate recollections of
1 Born but two years after Mrs. Grant, the friend of her early days, she sur
vived her for sixteen years. When, as a youth, the writer visited the widow of the
illustrious HamUton, she was residing with a daughter In the city of Washington,
and was then in her ninety-seventh year. The venerable lady was much affected
at meeting with the godson of the companion of her chUdhood, speaking of Mrs.
Grant and the Memoir of "Aunt Schuyler," with the warmest interest. "It
is eighty-six years since Anne MacVicar and EUzabeth Schuyler parted as
girls of thirteen and eleven," said Mrs. Hamilton. Another of her remarks that
has been cherished In her visitor's memory for almost half a century, was made
after he had kissed her dainty Uttle hand in bidding her a final ferewell : " It may
interest you, my dear young friend, to remember that Washington's lips frequently
pressed the same hand that yours have pressed." Writing to Miss Harriet Doug
las in January, 1833, before her marriage, Mrs. Grant remarks: " There Is a lady
in New York who was my playmate In childhood, whom you may chance to meet
in society, Mrs. Hamilton, the widow of the distinguished General Hamilton,
better known to me as * Betsy Schuyler.' There were three sisters: AngeUca,
elegant and dignified, whom I used to look up to with great awe as a fine lady, and
such In after life she proved. I had a letter from her twenty years since, Intro
ducing one of her countrymen. Then there was Betsy, good natured and unpre
tending J and Margaret, very pretty, and a kind of wicked wit. I have a sort of
pleasure in referring to this gossip of early days. I never forget one of those once
femlUarly known to me, and would not Uke to be forgotten by them."

APPENDIX 261
your family have accompanied me through life that to think that at
this advanced period I still continue to excite any interest like
that which I feel for those to whom I have owed much of life's
best comforts and enjoyments, soothes the decUne of a Ufe in
which the severest sufferings were mingled with the purest enjoy
ments indulged to mortals. What has been said of the French
emigrants by way of reproach, that they forgot notiiing, may be
truly said of me. That they learnt nothing, I hope is less appli
cable. I hope the wholesome chastening of affliction has not been
lost on me, I remember most accurately all the little intercourse
I ever had with your sisters — first at a little school in Albany,
where, I suppose, we were all placed more to keep us quiet
than for any other purpose — then I remember your kindness
in calling on us on your way to and from Saratoga when we
lived at the Flats, I remember as it were yesterday the awe and
admiration with which I looked to your sister Angelica's early air
of elegance and dignity when she first returned from New York,
We returned to Europe in the sixty-eight, just when the clouds
that presaged the Revolution, which proved in the end so happy
for both countries, were gathering thick, I went out from Aunt
Schuyler's to take a final leave of you all and an old friend, Mrs,
Ross, who had the charge of you and of whose fate since I never
could hear. To my unpractised eye your house appeared super
eminently fine and spacious. The little brother you had then I
hope still survives, I heard with much interest of your marriage
with that highly distinguished individual who I find has left with
you sons worthy of their Father, whose merits and prosperity are the
greatest to you of all earthly consolations. It gives me great plea
sure to hear that you desire consolation from stUl higher sources,
and that your exemplary life is mentioned with applause by aU I
ever heard speak of you,
I once had a letter from Mrs, Church introducing her nephew,
who was here for a good whUe, and have seen a little of the other
young Rensselaer during their short stay here, and once of Mrs,
Church, then residing in Paris, who came to see me ; thus my
frequent inquiries after you aU still kept present to my mind the
early years of happiness and improvement, for both which I am
chiefly indebted to your exceUent Aunt Schuyler, whom I was

262 APPENDIX
wont fondly to call mine. She admitted me at a childish age into
a companionship very unusual in such a disparity of years, and her
cordial kindness in treating me above my years produced in my
mind a soUdity of thought and a habit of reflection not usual in
the early spring of life, which may have been an advantage to
an active mind at home, I saw nothing but uprightness and
piety. By the bye, I saw in a Transatlantic publication a mistake
about my Father's occupation, not of the smallest consequence
further than it recaUs to my mind a stirring period in which he was
concerned. He was a subaltern ofEcer in the 55th, and a kind of
favorite with your Father, at whose desire he was appointed Muster
Master to the troops raised in New England and New York at the
time of the Indian war, which broke out after the general peace.
I am exceedingly glad to hear that you have a brother living in
affluence and general esteem so near you. The gout which
detracts from his enjoyments had, I thought, been quite a Euro
pean disease. The rheumatism, I supposed, simply suppUed its
place with you, I am glad to hear of his son's proposed marriage.
It would be a pity the direct male line should not be continued.
I can easily suppose the famUy seat at Saratoga bv this time improved
into a princely residence, I see Mr, Church has piously perpetuated
his mother's name in the place of his residence. Your nephew seems
likely to rear a large supply of beauty to enrich my early residence, I
spent most of my sixth year at Oswego when it was merely a fort, and
the first thing that attracted my regard was a cow, the only existing
one on that side of Johnson HaU. My surprise and admiration is
continually renewed by the accounts I hear of rapid population
and splendid improvements in that boundless forest that I remem
ber. Your countrymen have indeed made the wUderness to blossom
as the rose. Your wide extending populations and towns that
rise like exhalations excite no little wonder, not to say envy,
here, A hardy and adventurous population not tied down to
fond locaUties and associations seem so made to promote the task
of spreading knowledge and population over so ample a portion
of the globe, refinement wiU follow too soon for peace or exer
tion. At present it might prove only a stumbling-block in the way
of the vigor and dexterity that surmounts so many difiiculties with a
speed that appears to us unendible, Umited as we are by the

^ ! 1 1 J " -

The "West Side of Market Street, now B

ROADWAY, from NEAR MaIDEN LaNE

APPENDIX 263
boundaries of our comparatively little island. Many of us look
eagerly forward to sharing your privileges of immeasurable space
and unbounded freedom, I hardly suppose the Fathers of the
Revolution contemplated anything Uke equality such as seems the
object of general aspiration with you, and in which our lower
class begin very fast to emulate yours. Such certainly were not
the views of Generals Washington and Hamilton, and it does
not appear that any of their successors have been braver or wiser.
There is one family of your alliance that I cannot trace — that
of Courtlandt Schuyler, He was a captain in our army, and mar
ried a good little Irishwoman, When I came away our good
Aunt, who like the Popes, indulged much in hospitaUty, had taken
the eldest boy, the little Courtlandt, a child of five, to domesticate
with her, I met in England our favorite niece Mrs. Low in the
undesirable state of an exiled loyalist with no liberal substitute for
aU she had lost and left behind, I met also one of Aunt's nephews,
the son of a favorite sister, Cornelius Cuyler, who at a very
early age, full of exuberant spirits and boyish playfulness, was
sent as an ensign into my Father's regiment — I mean the same
regiment. He made me a sort of plaything, but the pleasure of
teasing me soon ceased. He went to England, with his regiment
sdU, sooner than myself. At least fifty years ago, when I was on
a visit in Hertfordshire, he heard and came a good distance to see
me and bring me and my daughter to visit him at his newly pur
chased estate at St. John's Hill. He had a very pleasing wife.
Grant by name, two fine youths entering upon manhood, and a
pretty daughter, who just married the rector of WeUwyn, where
Young died, and where the " Night Thoughts " were born. The
Church and Rectory were very near the house, and I was much
urged by my besetting sin to remain alone and indulge myself in
some thoughts near his tomb and Lady Betty's, but having long
lived under a strict regimen of self-denial I contented myself
with admiring Lady Betty's needlework on the altarpiece. A
large vine and fiiU clusters were wrought upon fawn-colored satin.
Beneath it a few sheep seemed sheltered. The texts inscribed
were: " I am the true vine, and yeare the branches," "My
sheep hear my voice," etc. General, now Sir, Cornelius Cuyler
had been engrossed in a successful pursuit of ambition, had long

264 APPENDIX
been chief commander in the West, and was in short Uke the first
Thane of Cawdor, a prosperous gentleman. But it did not appear
that Albany, with its attractions and endearments, hved nearly so
fresh in his memory as it did in mine. He was become a grave,
rich, woridly man, and took Uttle delight in my lively reminiscences.
His sons, I think, are in the army. Feople in this country, even
of distinction, are so much at a loss what to do with their sons.
One of the most enviable advantages you possess over us is that you
have ample room and scope enough to estabUsh your sons in your
own boundless country, while the tenderest Mothers wait anxiously
for the power of sending their sons to encounter all the dangers
of those fatal cUmates, from which so few return. Years elapsed
during which I could not see without shrinking the name of that
country where my beautifiil, my brave, perished in the bloom of
his years and of his virtues. Of my daughters I wiU only say that
with every external advantage of form, with more than com
mon capacities, and all that a mother could hope or pray for, they
were prematurely ripened for the tomb. They indeed gave their
Mother grief but when they died. Yet do not call me Mara. I
did feel bitterly when all these faded in succession, but I was
enabled to bear these strokes silently and consider that their
constitutional fragility and great delicacy of mind fitted them so iU
for the rough world they might have to encounter, as removed from
the evil to come, and safely sheltered in that peaceful harbor
towards which their earUest aspirations were directed. If the sym
pathies and kindness of the worthy and excellent could aUeviate,
and they did soften the sense of these privations, all that my fellow
beings could do they did, I have known many whom it was an
honor as weU as a pleasure to know. Now my son and his wife
do all that is possible to cheer my decUne, and I am, I hope,
truly thankfiil for what remains,
I should sooner have acknowledged the great favor of yours, but
have waited till last week for the arrival of the Memoirs which your
son has undertaken the pious task of arranging and thus doing honor
both to himself and to the parent whose memory reflects so much
lustre on his descendants, I immediately wrote with directions to
deUver the volume to a friend of mine in London, Happening about
that time to go to a distant part of the country where I staid three

APPENDIX 265
months, I found it had come to Edinburgh in my absence, and I
am now engaged in reading it with more interest than many others
could, from the assistance I derive from my recollection of what
caused so much suffering and produced so much to us as well as to
you, I will not affect any modesty about style ; for I think the
best authors and the best conversation have in this respect made me
a tolerable judge. To me the book seems to possess every advan
tage that many perspicuous and unaffected languages can, and quite
free of that finery which I consider my old friends to have borrowed
from the French, our new friends. Have the goodness, dear
Madam, to transmit my best acknowledgments, and to believe that
I am, with much gratitude for your kind letter.
Dear Madam, yours with respect and esteem,
Anne Grant,

266 APPENDIX

LETTERS TO MRS, DOUGLAS CRUGER OF
NEW YORK
Edinburgh, 9th February, 1837,
My dear Harriet, — Your compliments are not acceptable to
a spirit in much need of all the consolation that real and well-tried
friendship can give, I have read your letter at last, with some
attention, which I could not do when it arrived, my whole mind
being occupied with my son's fiiU cup of fear about his dear wife's
protracted illness. She has had the influenza, which rages here Uke
a plague, and has already cost many valuable Uves, though I hope
hers (the subject of many prayers) is now out of danger.
Your cousin Miss Abercromby, called on me lately with some
message from Lady Abercromby, and without intending (for she
is a sweet artless creature), won my heart. She seemed gratified
by the acquaintance, and said she would come often to see me if
agreeable. Both in her instance, and in that of a younger one who
came here, I was struck with the frugal simplicity of dress which
is now become fashionable even among distinguished young ladies.
Two years ago, a young girl of ten or twelve was in dress just a
facsimile of her mother ; now, the simplest straw-bonnet, in the
cottage form, shades the fairest face, and the homely gray tartan
the figure is mantled in, gives you the idea of a pretty rustic at best.
But all that disguise breaks off when the young lady appears in fuU
dress, as Miss Abercromby did at a late Highland baU, where she
was aUowed to be the fairest ofthe fair.
I am glad to find you so captivated with the character of my
Aunt Schuyler. You cannot form to yourself a better model of
female exceUence. I have, in one sense, outlived her too long ;
that is, I have outlived those who, at the time the book was writ
ten, remembered her, and bore testimony to the fideUty of the
picture. An odd circumstance occurred when I was in London in
1 808, about the period of the pubUcation of the book. You know

APPENDIX 267
how partial I had ever been to the North American Indians, over
whose injuries and oppressions I still mourn. My respect for the
pure and peaceable doctrines and spotless lives of the Quakers was
much heightened by their just and upright dealings with the
Indians, WilUam Penn was a legislator quite to my taste, admir
ing, as I did, the wisdom and humanity of his ordinances. It had
not occurred to me, or rather I had not heard it, but it seems the
Governor of Pennsylvania, the last WiUiam Penn,^ had come over
to England to seek rest from the storms of the Revolution, He was
about fifty years old, with the genuine dress and air ofa Quaker, yet,
with this gravity, he placed his affections on Lady Juliana Fermor,
daughter of the Earl of Pomfret, a young lady who, on account of
her beauty and talents, was considered the ornament of the British
Court. This ambitious flame was encouraged by the lady's mother,
and finaUy by herself. It was settled, as usual in such cases, that
the boys should be Quakers, and the girls of the National Church.
One of the daughters, who proved afterwards a distinguished per
sonage, was married to the Hon. William Stuart, Primate of Ire
land. She took some pains to cultivate my acquaintance, as did
several others of the same very agreeable family. I was rather sur
prised at all this kindness, until it occurred to me that some of it
might be owing to a partiaUty for the topics in my American book.
Speaking of Quakers, I have often thought it something odd, that
though we are so ready to acknowledge the merit of these people,
— their self-command and placid manners, — none of us would
much approve of having a son a member of that amiable fraternity,
I am very glad for your own sake as well as theirs, you take so
kindly to those youths whom their father left to you as a kind of
legacy. The more our best affections are called forth, the happier
we are. These are the treasures of the heart, and may prove
invaluable. I remember, on coming first to this country from
America, I used to tell people, with a kind of triumph, of the
certainty of always finding children in that country about a Dutch
house. Whether they were their own or not, they seemed to be
1 John (not WiUiam) Penn, who was born in London, 14 July, 1729, and
died in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, 9 February, 1795. His beautiful country-
seat, "Lansdowne," is now a part of Fairmount Park, Philadelphia.

268 APPENDIX
an article quite indispensable : whatever enlarges the circles of our
affections must add to our enjoyments, , , .
I have over-written myself, and merely add every affection for
Mr, Cruger and Mrs. Hasell, from
Yours, very truly, Anne Grant.
Edinburgh, 9th April, 1838.
My dear Harriet, — I am beginning to make a feeble attempt
to write after recovering from a rather dangerous illness, I was
tempted to make this a kind of valedictory letter, but having an
impression on my mind that this long protracted Ufe may yet con
tinue while I can be of any use to my fellow-creatures, I will not
address you for the last time, I was very much gratified to find
my shadow ^ so kindly welcomed by my American friends, pardy
on my son's account, who was eager about forwarding it, but more
particularly on that of Mr, Watson Gordon, who is by no means
a mere artist, but a gentleman of refined taste, and quiet, unambi
tious character, I owe something to the picture for procuring me
the pleasure of his acquaintance. He wrought con amore, and was
no doubt pleased that his powers should be distinguished beyond
the mighty waters ofthe West.
I am going to ask some questions of you, but before I begin,
must entreat you to send my benediction to Mr, Preston,^ who has
done honor to himself, and given me great pleasure by advocating
the cause of those noble creatures, the deeply injured Indians,
Your country people used to offend me very much by the apathy
with which they listened to all I could say of these "Stoics of
the Woods," Often I said to myself, —
" Forgiveness to the injured does belong.
But they ne'er pardon who have done the wrong,"
1 The portrait appears as a frontispiece to this volume, for which it has been
reproduced for the first time. Another of Sir John's pictures, painted for Mrs. Grant,
is that of her young poet friend William Wilson, now in the possession of his son,
General Wilson, of New York.
"^ WUUam C. Preston (i 794-1 860) of South Carolina, who became intimate
with Mrs. Grant during several years' residence In Edinburgh in early life. Many
letters were afterwards exchanged between them.

APPENDIX 269
One of my sweetest recollections of my venerated Aunt Schuyler is,
that she always spoke with sympathy and kindness of the Indians,
thoroughly understood and justly appreciated their character. . . .
Tell that charming writer Mrs, Jameson ^ that I (being a little
prudish) took great offence at seeing so much beautiful praise
lavished on the beauties of Charles the Second's Court, whom
I considered no better than they should be. But, afterwards, her
stricture on Shakespeare's female characters deUghted me. She
invested them with aU the properties that I had long studied and
admired, without a hope of meeting with any one that would
understand, far less explain, my feeUngs, Pray thank her for me
for melting the frost of age about my heart, and restoring to me
the delights of loving and admiring excellence, I can never do
her any good, but she did a great deal to me : thank her for me,
I earnestly entreat you.
With a confused head and chilled fingers, you must make allow
ance for something more than my usual incoherence, I understand
well who the daughter-in-law of the late Lord Chancellor Erskine
was, to whom you referred. She was a Colden, of an old Scottish
family long resident in New York. Who has not heard of Cad
wallader Colden, the clear-sighted oracle of all the successive
governors of that Province ? Lady Erskine called on me fre
quently when she was in Edinburgh. She was accounted a per
son of singular mildness and prudence ; she was beautiful, and
continued to be so for a longer period than is usually aUotted to
the fair Americans, who are chiefly a kind of spring flower. I
must now give you in charge to tell Mr. Stephens,^ the traveUer
in the Holy Land, with how much pleasure my son and I read
his travels, or whatever else he calls them. We thought him
quite original and unpretending, and Uked very much his respectful
and proper mode of expressing himself on sacred subjects ; not pre-
1 Mrs. Anne Jameson (1797-1860), author of " The Beauties of the Court of
Charles II," " Legends ofthe Madonna," and many other works on art, was then
on a visit to the United States.
2 John L. Stephens (1805-1852), who wrote many interesting books of travel,
chief among them being his popular volumes on Central America and Yucatan,
perhaps the most Important contributions yet made by any one writer on thc subject
of American Antiquities.

270 APPENDIX
tending to be "wiser than what is written," as the poor pretend
ers to philosophy invariably do, but speaking with modest reverence
of those things " which the angels desire to look into.' ' We give
him credit, too, for a talent not liberally bestowed on his country.
men ; I mean humor. His dinner on the banks of the Nile with
his English friends diverted me exceedingly. I hope success will
not mislead or spoil a person of such good abilities and sound
opinions. I trust this letter will find you beginning to look forward with
pleasant anticipation to your summer retreat, where, if a wish
would waft me, I should like to meet you. I hope your com
mercial panics have, in some degree, subsided, and that you begin
to discover that an alarm of this kind is as useful to the general
good as the thunder storm that clears and purifies the air. If we
look in a right spirit at what is passing round us, we shall daily
find the Great Alchymist at work, producing permanent good out
of transient passing evils. For instance, the obstructions to public
credit in your affairs were met with so much candor and good
feeUng on our side of the water as, I think, will lay the foundation
of more confidence and a better understanding hereafter. Then,
with regard to that crazy war in Canada, the fair dealing and
sincere desire of your government to repress the attempts of the
ignorant mob on the borders, will establish friendly and confidential
feelings on our side.
Deaths have been fearfiilly frequent this winter. I seldom rise
without hearing of the death of some one younger than myself;
but every added day, if it is well spent, is an added blessing.
I suffer no pain, have equal spirits, and take pleasure in nameless
trifles, birds, flowers, etc. If more months or years be aUotted to
me, I shall write to you again. My true love to Mrs. Hasell, and
most kind remembrance to Mr. Cruger, Adieu, affectionately,
says your faithful
Anne Grant.^
1 So far as the Editor is aware, the only American letter of later date than the
above was written by Mrs. Grant in August (she passed away In November), to
Mrs. Jane Sibbald WUson of Poughkeepsie, N. Y. , In which she replies to an in
quiry, " My mother, nee Catherine Mackenzie, was not a connection of my gifted

APPENDIX 271

LETTERS TO MRS. GRANT FROM ROBERT
SOUTHEY AND OTHERS
Among a number of unpubUshed letters written by Mrs. Grant's
distinguished correspondents, the following are selected at random
from the originals, in the writer's possession. The first is from the
pen of WUliam Hayley, the friend of Gibbon and the biographer
of the poet Cowper, who was born in the year of 1745 and died
in 1820, "The sublime Mr, Hayley," Thackeray calls him
in his Roundabout Paper " On Ribbons," Hayley, it appears,
was considerably worried over the question as to whether he or
Cowper was the greater man. In an epistle to Hayley, included
in Mr, Thomas Wight's collection of " Unpublished Letters of
WiUiam Cowper," the poet says : " Whether you or I have the
most genius, I know not, nor care a fig, God gives to every man
as He pleases, and I should make Him a very unsuitable return for
the Uttle He has given me did I allow myself to repine that He
has given others more. And now that I have once called you my
friend, I defy even you to shine at such a rate as to excite in me
any other sentiments than those of pleasure and congratulation,"
Felpham, near Chichester, December 26, 1811.
Dear Madam, — I trust you will forgive my intrusion, as it
arises from the pleasure you have afforded me by your writings,
and particularly by the interesting account of your American
lady.i
and good friend, Henry Mackenzie ; " alludes to a recent meeting with " Christopher
North," who had good-naturedly called her ** Queen ofthe Blue-Stockings j "
exprrases the hope that '* my Uttle godson, James Grant, is growing strong," adding,
'* Please purchase for him, with the accompanying gold coin, a suitable gift," and
concluding with the parting words, " Farewell, for I cannot expect to linger here
much longer."
1 In one of her early letters, written at the age of eighteen, Miss MacVicar re
marks that whatever culture her mind had received she owed to Madame Schuyler,

272 APPENDIX
The delight you felt at a very early age from an unexpected
present of Milton has tempted me to try if I can gratify your lively
and tender feelings by a similar offering.
" In childhood thy quick, piercing eyes.
When Milton chanced to meet.
The stranger bard how didst thou prize !
His Paradise how sweet !
Hoping thou may'st a new surprise
With equal kindness greet.
To thee thy gratefiil fav'rite flies.
Behold him at thy feet."
Accept the Utde volumes that accompany this billet as a kind
though a petty proof that your talents have excited esteem at the
southern extremity of our island, and beheve me, with hearty
good wishes for your happiness and for your Uterary renown.
Very sincerely, dear madam, your friend,
W. Hayley,
In the following letter from Henry Smyth, Esq,, of Mount
Henry, Ireland, is contained an announcement of his sister's legacy
of a thousand pounds to Mrs, Grant, not previously mentioned in
this volume, as a mark of appreciation of her admirable character
and writings. Mount Henry, September 7, 18 14,
My dear Madam, — My lamented sister Isabella having left a
paper behind her containing her wishes upon various particulars,
and says, "Many particulars relative to this excellent person's life and manners
would be well worth preserving ; and If I outilve her, I think I wIU, some time or
other, endeavor to please myself at least by preserving a memoir of a life so valuable
and Important." As has been seen, thirty years passed before this project of her
youth was successfiilly carried out. Writing in June, 1808, to Sir Henry Steuart,
Mrs. Grant says : " At the request of particular friends, I have, since the be
ginning of this year, been busily engaged in preparing for the press Memoirs of a
deceased worthy weU known in her time not only all over the Continent, but
to aU distinguished persons who In her day led the British army to the Canadian
frontier. But I shaU refer for particulars to the Memoirs themselves, which wIU
very soon appear."

APPENDIX 273
and as those wishes are to a certain extent considered as sacred by
her 6mUy, it falls to my lot in our joint names to desire your
acceptance of the sum of f^ 1 000, the interest thereon to com
mence from the first day of next August at the rate of six per cent.
I must take the liberty of assuring you that the disposition entirely
accords with the feeUngs of every branch of her family, that we
entertain a mournful pleasure in offering this imperfect testimony
of her gratitude and esteem, and I shall consider your acceptance
as not only grateful to the memory of the departed, but compli
mentary to those who survive.
I shall await your commands as to the disposition of this sum ;
if it shall suit your convenience to suffer it to remain for any time
in its present security, I shall send you mine or my brother' s bond
for the principal, the interest to be paid half yearly, or if you should
judge that it might be more advantageously vested elsewhere, I shall
take immediate steps for raising the money.
With the warmest wishes for the family, I have the honor to be,
my dear madam, with very great esteem.
Your faithfiil and affectionate servant, Henry Smyth.
The following letter was addressed to Mrs. Grant by her friend,
Robert Southey, perhaps the most laborious Uterary worker of any
age. Who that had the privilege of listening to the brave words
ofthe large-hearted Thackeray, on the occasion of his last visit to
the United States, can ever forget his allusion, in the course of his
lecture on George the Third, to the great and good Southey ?
Writing to a friend in 1817, Mrs. Grant says : "Southey has the
finest poetical countenance, features unusually high, and somewhat
strong though regular, and a quantity of bushy black hair. I have
heard Southey called silent and constrained ; I did not find him so.
He talked easily and much, without seeming in the least conse
quential, or saying a single word for effect." Keswick, 24th July, 1824.
My dear Madame, — If I had any influence with Colburn,
it could not be better employed than on this occasion. I have
VOL. il — iS

274 APPENDIX
never had any communication with him but once, which was many
years ago, when he wrote to request that I would lend him a por
trait of myself^ to be engraved for his magazine, and also com
municate to him some particulars of my Ufe. It happened that a
most methodistical mis-likeness of me had been exhibited some
little time before in the " European Magazine," and I was wilhng
to supersede it by something better, I told Colburn where he might
borrow a bust which was the only satisfactory resemblance that
existed. At the same time, I stated, in as few words as possible,
the time and place of my birth and the course of my education,
saying that this would suffice for his purpose, and that the pubhc
had no business to expect anything more in the way of memoirs
while the subject in question was alive. Mr, Colbum, however,
was not satisfied with this. He borrowed the bust and got some
one to attempt the impossible task of making a portrait from it,
which he engraved as an original picture — a physiognomy between
assassin and hangman. And he produced a long memoir of my
private life, evidently written by some person who must once have
been my guest, or he could not have known so much, and yet had
been in no degree intimately acquainted with me, or he could not
have made so many grossly erroneous statements. Of course, I
thought myself ill-used ; but that sort of usage is too common to
excite either surprise or anger.
This has been my whole intercourse with Mr, Colburn,
Campbell is the person who is most likely to have influence with
him. But, surely, you can stand in need of no such interference.
There has been but one opinion of all your writings, and they
are of a character always to excite as much interest as when they
were first published.
As to the form of publication, booksellers ought to be the best
advisers. To me, the common octavo is the least agreeable form
in which a book can appear, as being too large to be held conven
iently in the hand and yet not large enough to require a table.
The crown octavo is a much pleasanter size ; but I believe the
other is the more economical way of printing. In either shape,
two duodecimo volumes may very well be comprised in one volume.
When the books are published, it may be in my power to render
them some littie service ; and that opportunity I wUl gladly take

APPENDIX 275
— glad, indeed, of any occasion to show with what sincere re
spect I regard Mrs. Grant and her writings.
Dear Madame, believe me yours, very faithfuUy,
Robert Southey,
Miss BaUlie, the writer of the following letter and the intimate
friend of Sir Walter Scott, who frequently spoke of her as "the
immortal Joanna, " was distinguished as the author of numerous
plays and poems in an age proUfic of great writers. She spent a
large share of her long life in a pretty cottage at Hampstead, near
London, where she died, February 23, 1851 :
Hampstead, April 12, 1828,
Dear Madam, — Though with no disparagement to the mem
ory of your young mountaineer, my answer to your obUging letters
shall be conveyed to you in a more direct manner, I am gratified
by hearing from you and having an opportunity of renewing my
acquaintance with a member of your family ; and I beg you to ac
cept my thanks. That the stream of your existence — which, you
say, never did run smooth — should be at present disturbed by the
protracted iUness of Miss Grant I am very sorry to learn ; but, in
the skillful hands of my good and kind friend. Dr. Thomson, and
the favorable season of the year before her, I hope you will ere
long have the happiness to see her restored to perfect health. Pray
have the goodness to present my kind remembrances to her, in
which my sister begs hers to be included. I am sure Mrs. Bail-
Ue, who is at present pretty well and recovering her wonted spirits
by degrees, will be pleased with your mention of her, which I shall
take care to communicate.
It has given me pleasure to hear that you are interested for
Lady Byron and can do justice to her character, which, for genuine
worth, disinterested generosity, and Christian forbearance and
charity, is one of the most excellent I have ever known. She has
been our near neighbor in Hampstead for nearly a year, and her
occupation has been to assist all her friends who have any claim
upon her, in every way in her power, either by her fortune or her
interest. I wish I could give you a satisfactory answer to your

276 APPENDIX
inquiries as far as her health is concerned. She has been very
unweU and confined almost entirely to the house all the winter,
and the affUction she has suffered from the recent death of her
father has checked her recovery. But she is somewhat better, and
proposes soon to go to the seaside, which I hope will be of great
benefit to her. You wiU be pleased to know that she has had the
comfort of having two of her oldest and dearest friends in the
house with her for some months past, who helped her to cheer
her poor father under the weight of his infirmities and supported
her in many various distresses,
I am glad to hear from your son that Mr, Mackenzie ^ con
tinues to enjoy such good health at his advanced age, and beg to
be kindly — I should also say gratefully — remembered to him.
Farewell dear Madam, and believe me
Very truly yours, J, Baillie,
David Stewart, of Garth, writer of the accompanying letter, a
gallant soldier, and Governor of the West Indian Island of St,
Lucia, was the author of " Sketches of the Character, Manners,
and Present State ofthe Highlands of Scotland, with detaUs of the
Military Service of the Highland Regiments." Sir Walter Scott
says: "Therein Mrs, Grant of Laggan has drawn the manners,
customs, and superstitions of the mountains in their unsophisticated
state, and my friend. General Stewart, of Garth, in giving the
real history ofthe Highland Regiments has rendered any attempt
to fill up the sketch with fancy coloring extremely rash and pre
carious ! " ^ Elsewhere Sir Walter writes : "The late lamented
General Stewart, of Garth, in his account of the battle of KiUie-
krankie, informs us that Lochiel was attended on the field by the
son of his foster-brother. This faithful adherent foUowed him Uke
his shadow, ready to assist him with his sword, or cover him from
the shot ofthe enemy. Suddenly the chief missed his friend from
his side, and turning round to look what had become of him, saw
him lying on his back with his breast pierced by an arrow.
He had hardly breath, before he expired, to tell Lochiel, that see-
1 Author of "The Man of FeeUng," " Man of the World," etc. He was
born in 1745 ^"^ ^'^^ '" 1831.
2 Chronicles of the Canongate.

APPENDIX

277

ing an enemy, a Highlander in General Mackay's army, aiming at
him with a bow and arrow, he sprung behind him, and thus
sheltered him from instant death. "This," observes the gallant
David Stewart, " is a species of duty not often practised, perhaps,
by our aide-de-camps of the present day." ¦

' 1

Government House, St. Lucia, July 3, 1829.
My dear Madam, — Far from friends and homes as I am here,
one of the best sources of mental satisfaction is retiring as it were
within myself and thinking of them. When fatigued by business
or by violent exercise, I find these recoUections as great, if not
greater rehef than rest to the body. If I could add some of our
native music to these recoUections of old friends and past times,
the recreation would be complete. But a person must be long and
far separated from friends to be able to enjoy such a mixture of
melancholy and pleasing recollections as I frequently do. For sev
eral days past I have thought much of you. If I had not been
so much in the world and forgotten some of my native country's
beUefs, I would be as [iUegible] or whether anything has hap
pened, as a few nights ago I was in deep conversation with you
in one of my waking dreams. One might forget such things in
this land of heathens, of pestilence, of slavery, and of poisonous
plants, and such poisonous aUments, and with people of many re
ligious beliefs and many without any reUgion or belief — and of
colors as various as their religions, some having no color at all,
being white as this sheet of paper, and the rest composing all the
intermediate shades down — or up — to jet black.
In such a country, with much to occupy my mind, I still find
my original attachments and recollections unchanged. With these
feeUngs I am very anxious to learn if you are in good health, and
a letter cannot be more gratefiiUy received than by me.
My official dudes are a mixture of civU and miUtary. To-day,
in a garrison being among soldiers, to-morrow holding councU and
busy making new laws, also mending old ones. The laws of France
which we have here are favorable to colonists and those who wished
to encourage the colonies, made them more so, and a proprietor
1 Preface to the Fair Maid of Perth.

278 APPENDIX
of land cannot be compelled to pay his just debts — that is, his
land is not liable, and cannot be sold for debt under the French
laws. The Governor has great powers. This I now exercise,
and hope, as I intend, to good purpose, A new law is passed,
and every man must now pay what he owes, , , , I have to beg
the favor of you to write at your convenience, and do let me en
treat that it may be a long letter. It is only those who live at a
distance that can fiilly appreciate the satisfaction and delight of re
ceiving letters from dear and valued friends,
I remain, with great regard and esteem.
Ever faithfully yours, David Stewart,
The following letter, written by Professor Andrews Norton,
( 1 786-1 852), author of an admirable article on Mrs, Grant and
her writings contributed to the "North American Review," in
1845, is introduced here chiefly because ofthe truthful indorsement
by Mrs, Grant which accompanies it, — "a very beautiful letter
from Professor Norton of New England,' ' His article of thirty
pages in the " North American," concludes with these appreciative
lines : " We have succeeded but ill in these imperfect notices of
Mrs, Grant, if we have not given the impression of a woman of ex
traordinary good sense, and of uncommon powers of mind ; whose
letters, embracing a wide variety of subjects, are as truly valuable
as those of any other writer, and likely to be of as permanent inter
est, and to afford as lasting gratification ; but especially of a woman
of great strength of character, formed by reUgious principle and
penetrated by religious sentiment, the vital principle of whose moral
being was faith in God and immortaUty, whose sympathies were
warm and diffusive, and who was fuU of disinterested kindness,"
Cambridge [New England], Dec. 29, 1829.
My dear Madam, — You can hardly estimate how much pleas
ure your kind and cordial letter gave Mrs. Norton and myself.
I fear you will think it strange that I have not sooner expressed my
gratitude for it. I have twice begun a letter to you : but since
receiving yours, I have been suffering from almost constant Ul
health, and am now but just recovering from a severe fit of sick-

APPENDIX 279
ness. My health promises now, I think, to be better than it has
been. It was a great satisfaction to have the pleasure of seeing you in
Edinburgh. It is among my choicest remembrances of that most
interesting and beautiful city. We had long known you through
your writings and through our common friends ; and it was like
meeting one with whom we had been acquainted in youth, and
with whom were associated some of its most agreeable recollec
tions. We had been with you during your eventful life in the
Highlands of Scotland and on the banks of the Hudson. The
scenes and characters to which you had introduced us are such as
give their charm to Ufe, presenting a far more deUghtful aspect of
the world than that which appears to him who is toiUng on its
frequented and careworn highways. It was delightful to find you,
in old age, after such severe trials, so supported and strengthened
by the power of God ; not resigned only, but cheerful ; possessing
not the calm benevolence of age alone, but all the kinder feelings
in their freshness and flower, which, beautiful as they are in youth,
become so much more deeply interesting, when we know that care
and sorrow have had no power to wither them, and that they will
soon form a part of that crown of glory which fadeth not. If we
could have forgotten the blessings which God has for a time taken
to himself and is reserving for you in his keeping, we might have
thought of you only as one —
Whose cheerful day benevolence endears.
Whose night congratulating conscience cheers.
The general favorite, as the general friend.
Your meeting with Mrs. Hemans, and still more your parting
widi her, must have been very interesting to you both. Her visit
to Scodand was to her highly exciting and gratifying, and could
not, I think, but give her an impression of the estimate formed of
her poetry by the best capable of feeling and judging of its excel
lence, which she had not received before. It must have been
deUghtful to her to visit a country so peopled widi romantic asso
ciations, where one familiar with its history and poetry, and pos
sessing the gifted eye of genius, everywhere sees forms and hears

28o APPENDIX
voices which another cannot perceive, and is able to read and
understand the handwriting on the ruined waU of other days. But
since her return I have received a letter from her apparently writ
ten in much dejection of spirits. They are greatly affected with
out doubt by her very uncertain health, by the fact that her means
of support depend much on its continuance, by the gloom which
hangs over the prospects of her children, by her unfitness to struggle
in this working-day world, and by the want of any one on whom
she can naturally rely as a household friend for daily encouragement,
assistance, and strength. She is as much an object of compassion
as of admiration and love.
All our common friends in this country — though it is a very
comprehensive term — are, I believe, well, Mrs, Norton begs
you to think of her as one who remembers you always with the
sincerest respect and affection. Her mother, than whom few ever
had more power of attracting others, has lately been taken from
us. The light of Heaven shone free on the days which preceded
her death, and she has left a treasury of consolation and hope to
her children. The little traveller, our boy Charles, in whom you
took so kind an interest while in Edinburgh, is now as hearty and
rosy, good tempered and noisy, as any boy ought to be. Our two
little girls are well. Miss Guild, who is on a visit to us, desires to
be respectfully remembered to you.
And now, my dear Madam, farewell. Accept my best thanks
for all your kindness. May the close of your life be peaceful and
happy, and lead you gently on to that infinitely happier state which,
with my firm faith in the goodness of God, I can have no doubt
that you are approaching. Perhaps you may find an opportunity
to gratify and honor me by another letter. If not, will you
remember me as one who thinks of you with the highest respect
and regard, Andrews Norton.
The following "notelet, " with which we shall conclude our selec
tions, was written by Mrs. Opie, of whom Mrs. S. C. Hall said :
" Her manners would have graced a court and not encumbered a
cottage." She was a native of Norwich, and died in 1853, at the
age of 84. Her note bears this indorsement, written by Mrs. Grant :

APPENDIX

281

"From Mrs, Opie, once a belle, a beauty, and an authoress, who is
remembered as the author of ' The Father and the Daughter, ' She
has become a Quaker, and the sect are very vain of such a convert,' '
Respected Friend, — I hope I shall be more fortunate than
I was in 18 16, and that this time of my being in Edinburgh I
shall be able to see thee, I intend to set off to-morrow to Perth,
on my way with Mrs. Fry-* and other friends, to the General Meet
ing at Aberdeen, and thence I shall go to the Highlands ; but I
hope to be here again, and at No. 2 South Castle Street (where I
arrived on the nth at night), and here I mean to remain till the
beginning of the i oth month [October] , On my return, I shall
be truly glad to receive a welcome from thee.
Thine very respectfiiUy, Amelia Opie,
South Castle Street, Sth month, 13th, 1834,
1 Mrs. EUzabeth Fry, among the most eminent of modern philanthropists.

282 APPENDIX

THE INDIAN WIDOW.i
Thy looks speak compassion, thy language a friend,
Yet think not, kind stranger, my purpose to bend ;
Nouraddin's blest spirit awaits me the while
And hovers around his pale corpse on the pile.
He whispers — he call me — he passes like wind —
Oh, why should I linger in anguish behind ?
Through this desolate Earth should I wander alone.
When my light was all quenched with Nouraddin's last groan !
Beloved and endear' d, in his shadow I dwelt.
In his tender protection no sorrow I felt ;
As our souls were united, our pleasures the same,
So our ashes shall mingle and hallow the fiame.
Like a vine without prop shall I sink on the ground.
And low in the dust spread my tendrils around ?
While the beasts of the forest shall trample with scorn
The plant they neglected, despised and forlorn !
You tell me my children forsaken will pine, —
(What a wound to a bosom so tender as mine !)
That their innocent cries shall ascend in the air.
And drown with their clamor, my last dying prayer.
Oh, still, my loved babes, ye cling close to my heart ;
But, alas ! with your father I never can part ;
Yet Bramah, in pity, my truth to reward.
Unseen, will permit me my children to guard.
Adieu, gentle stranger ! Oh, linger not here.
Nor force me my triumph to stain with a tear ;
The flames as they kindle I view with a smile —
How blest when our ashes shall mix on yon pile !
1 The original manuscript of this poem was presented by Mrs. Grant in May,
1829, to the Editor's father, William WUson, Esq., of Poughkeepsie, N. Y., who
at the same time sent Mrs. Grant his lines on "Richard Cceur de Lion," said by
Bryant to be " more spirited than any of the ballads of Aytoun."

APPENDIX 283

LINES ADDRESSED TO AN AMERICAN LADY
"I was born where men are proud to be —
The inviolate Island of the Sage and Free."
— Lord Byron.
And must we bid a last adieu.
Fair Pilgrim of the Western clime .'
And wilt thou with indulgence view
This unpremeditated rhyme
That bidst thee, ere thou leavest her strand
O'er Europe's ancient realms to rove.
Bequeath a blessing to the Land
That Science and the Muses love ?
Land of thy Sires. The parent stem.
Whose vigorous branches spread so wide — •
Fair freedom's shrine, Old Ocean's gera.
Embraced and cherished by his tide — •
While wandering through her sacred Fanes
Did no low whisper meet thy ear .'
Where sleep thy ancestors' remains
Didst thou no aerial voices hear ?
Blest in thy gentle bosom's Lord,
Whose every care and wish is thine.
Did ye not bend with one accord.
As listening to some voice divine ?
The sounds that murmur from the Tomb
Die indistinctly on the air ;
The pensive Muse can pierce the gloom
And find their secret meaning there.

284 APPENDIX
Hear her in mortal strains rehearse
The words of each ancestral shade.
While thus in rude and artless verse
Their solemn counsel seems conveyed.
Welcome from o'er the Atlantic wave.
Blest children of heroic sires ;
Your presence in the silent Grave
Relumes affection's faded fires.

Tho' on your happy native coast
Her banner Liberty displays ;
Tho' equal Laws you justly boast.
And Nations envy while they gaze ;
Tho' earth, in virgin bloora arrayed.
Her lavish gifts profusely pours ;
Tho' with interminable shade
The dark primeval forest lours,
That forest doomed so soon to yield
Before the sturdy sons of toil.
Where in each cultured mead or field
Shall fruits and flowers abundant smile.
For you a brighter, warmer sun
Sheds lustre thro' a purer sky ;
Like mighty floods your rivers run.
And plenty to their stores supply.
Yet from these bleak, inclement skies.
Where Winter's lingering chills delay,
Ye bore away the matchless prize
That kindles darkness into day.
The glorious intellectual light
That shone from Bacon's wondrous mind.
That played round Shakespeare's varied flight.
And Newton, nature's Priest, enshrined ;

APPENDIX 285
Thence too ye bore the Torch of truth
That lights the Altar's hallowed fire —
The hope of age, the guide of youth.
That heavenward leads us to aspire.
While Seraphs' Hallelujahs sing,
While Martyrs bear the immortal palm,
The heart which mortal sorrows wring
Shall find these truths a healing balm.
Then while through gayer scenes you rove.
Where pleasure leads the laughing hours.
Bids music wake in every grove.
And fancy deck her Syren bowers.
Still steadfast holds that radiant light
That pierces superstition's gloom.
Puts gay delusion's train to flight.
And sheds its lustre o'er the Tomb.
Think kindly of the far-famed Isle
From which your sires their lineage drew ;
So raay the Fates propitious smile
When you your happy home renew.
May friends, a kind, unbroken band.
With dewy eyes and glowing hearts.
Receive you on your native strand.
And fondly meet, no more to part.i
Written below, by the lady to whom this farewell is addressed :
"Edinburgh, i6th. By Mrs. Grant of Laggan, from whom
we have received every kindness imaginable since our arrival in this
deUghtful town,' ' and who in the following page of quotations from
Scott, Goldsmith, and others, records her impressions of her
fatherland : —
^ The original manuscript ofthis poem, believed to have been written by Mrs.
Grant In 1836, when she had passed fourscore, may be seen in the Lenox Library,
New York. It Is neatly written on four quarto pages, and Is in excellent preservation.
The name of the American lady to whom the poem was addressed does not appear
on the manuscript. So far as known, it has never before appeared in print.

286 APPENDIX
" O Caledonia, stern and wild !
Meet nurse for a poetic child ;
Land of brown heath and shaggy wood —
Land ofthe mountain and the flood."
" It may not be — it will not last —
The vision of Enchantment's past.
Like frostwork on the moming ray
The gilded fabric melts away."
" Like some tall cliff which lifts its awful form.
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm ;
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread.
Eternal sunshine settles on its head ! ' '
" How very desolate that breast must be
Whose only joyance is in memory I "

Arms of the Schuyler Family

APPENDIX 287

A LIST OF MRS, ANNE GRANT'S WRITINGS
" Poems on Various Subjects," By Mrs, Grant, Laggan. i vol.,
Svo. Printed for the author by John Moir, Royal Bank Close.
Edinburgh, 1803.
The same. Second edition, 1 804.
"The Highlanders, and Other Poems." By Mrs. Grant,
Laggan, Third edition, 1 8mo, Edinburgh : Printed by James
BaUantyne & Co, for Longman, Hurst, & Orme, London, 18 10,
" Letters from the Mountains : Being the real Correspondence
ofa Lady Between the Years 1773 and 1807." 3 vols., i 8mo,
London : Longman, Hurst, Rees & Orme, 1 806,
The same. Second edition, 1807,
The same, Boston : Greenough & Stebbins. 2 vols., i 2mo,
" Memoirs of an American Lady, with Sketches of Manners
and Scenes in America as they existed previous to the Revolu
tion," By the author of "Letters from the Mountains." 2 vols,,
izmo, London : Longman, Hurst, Rees & Orme. 1808.
The same. Second edition. 1809.
The same. i vol., l2mo. Boston: B. W. WeUs; New
York: Samuel Campbell, 1809,
The same. Third edition, London : A, K, Newman & Co,
2 vols., l2mo, 1817.
The same, i vol,, izmo. New York: George Dearborn,
1836. (Contains Preface by Fitz-Greene Halleck.)
The same. I vol., l2mo. New York : D. Appleton & Co,
1846, (Has Introduction by Grant Thorburn,)
" Essays on the Superstitions of the Highlanders of Scotland, To
which are added Translations from the GaeUc, and Letters con
nected with those formerly published," By the author of "Let
ters from the Mountains." 2 vols., i2mo. London : Longman,
Hurst, Rees, Orme & Brown. 181 1. (The presentation copy
before the writer contains these words in the Author's handwriting :
" By Anne Grant, who has here embodied recoUections precious
to memory, the only valuable to the thoughtful and imaginative,
such as the owner ofthis book, Mr, WUUam WUson,")

288 APPENDIX
The same. 2 vols., 1 2mo, New York, 1813,
" Eighteen Hundred and Thirteen : A Poem in Two Parts,"
Svo, London : Longman, Hurst, Rees & Co, i S 1 4,
" Popular Models and Impressive Warnings for the Sons and
Daughters of Industry," 2vols,, i2mo, London, 1S15,
" Letters from the Mountains, Being the real Correspondence
ofa Lady Between the Years 1773 and I So 3," Edited by her
son, John Peter Grant, Esq, 2 vols,, l2mo. London: Longman,
Brown, Green & Longmans, 1845,
"Memoir and Correspondence of Mrs, Grant of Laggan,"
Author of " Letters from the Mountains," " Memoirs of an Ameri
can Lady," &c. Edited by her son, John Peter Grant, Esq,,
with a steel portrait, 3 vols., post Svo, London : Longman,
Brown, Green & Longmans, 1844,
The same. Second edition, 1845,
The same. Third edition, 1853,
" Memoirs of an American Lady, with Sketches of Manners
and Scenes in America as they Existed Previous to the Revolu
tion." By Mrs, Anne Grant, author of "Letters from the
Mountains," &c., with a memoir of Mrs. Grant, by Gen. Jas. Grant
Wilson. I vol., Svo, with steel portrait of the author, and other
illustrations, Albany: Joel Munsell, 1876,
" Letters Written by Mrs, Grant of Laggan, concerning High
land Affairs and Persons connected with the Stuart Cause in the
Eighteenth Century." Edited by J. R. N, MacphaU, Edin
burgh : Printed at the University Press by T. & A. Constable for
the Scottish History Society. 1 896, Svo, cloth. Privately-
printed edition, 40 copies. Extracted from Vol. XXVI. ofthe
Publications of the Scottish History Society.
Also numerous contributions in prose and verse to the Scottish
journals and magazines, during her twenty-eight years' residence
in Edinburgh. Among the most important American articles on
Mrs. Grant's writings, may be mentioned those in the North
American Review, vol, 60 ; in Wilson's " Poets and Poetry of
Scodand," vol, i; and in "Appletons' Cyclopaedia of American
Biography," vol, 2,

INDEX

VOL. II. — 19

INDEX
The Contents of the Memoir of Mrs. Grant of Laggan, the Notes,
and also the Appendix, are included in the Index.

Abbotsford, Scotland, II. 237,
Abercrombie, General, II. 20, 24,
32, 38, 91
Abercromby, Lady, II. 266
Abercromby, Miss, II. 266
Addison, Joseph, 64
African servants, 265
Aged Bard's Wish, The, 18
Agricola and Mentor, II. 74
Albanians, The, 78, 88
Albany, 16, 26, 47, 54
Albany, Munsell's Annals of, 303
Algonquins, The, II. 108
Amendell House, II. 237, 240
American Indians, 132
American Manners, 25
American War, II. 36
Americans worth knowing, 32
Amherst, Lord, II. 32, 91, 92,
106
Amusements of Albany, 112
Anbury, Capt. Thomas, 132
Appian Way, Rome, 22
Appletons' Cyclopaedia of Ameri
can Biography, II. 288
Arbuthnot, Dr. John, 64
Argyll, Duke of, 21 ; II. 257
Astor Library, New York, II.
237

Athol, Duchess of, II. 239
Auld West Kirk, 31
Austrian Succession, 184
Aytoun, William E., H. 282
Bacon, Lord, II. 284
Baillie, Joanna, 32 ; II. 238, 275,
276
Ballantyne and Co., II. 287
Bancroft, George, 9
Barbauld, Mrs. Anna L., II. 238
Barclay, Rev. Dr., II. 42
Baron of Bradwardine, i 3
Beaumont, Admiral, II. 252
Beaux Stratagem, The, 294
Beckwith, Colonel, II. 107
Beekman Family, The, 46
Beranger, Pierre Jean de, II. 237
Black Watch, The, II. 3 1
Blackie, Prof. John Stuart, 18
Blackwood's Magazine, II. 244,
256
Bleecker Street Church, N. Y.,
II. 252
Blue Bells of Scotland, The, 20
Bold Buccleuch, The, II. 247
Bolingbroke, Lord, 64
Bostonians, The, II. 238
Braddock, General, II. 20
Braddock's Defeat, 239

292

INDEX

Bradstreet, Gen. John, 280, 281 ;
IL II, 38, 40, 47, 50, 106,
113, 114
Brainard, David, 225
Breadalbane, Lord, II. 239
Brewerton, N, Y,, II. 79
British America, II. 228, 231
British cause, II. no
British government, 28, 33
British officers, II. 154
Brown, Dr. John, 32
Browne, Sir Thomas, 19
Bruce, King Robert, 298
Bruen, Mrs. Matthias, II. 252
Bruen, Rev. Matthias, II. 252,
253
Brunton, Doctor, II. 244
Brunton, Mrs. Mary, II. 239
Bryant and Friends, II. 245
Bryant, Williara Cullen, II. 282
Buchan, Lady, II. 246
Buffalo Exposition of 1901, 25
Bull, Honest John, II. 255
BuU, Scotch John, II. 256
Burgoyne, Gen. John, II. 114,
164
Burns, Robert, 40 ; II. 174
Burr, Col. Aaron, II. 213
Byron, Lady, II. 238, 275
Byron, Lord, II. 237, 283
Caledonians, 142
Calton Hill, Edinburgh, II. 240
Calvinist Tracts, 66
Campbell, Major Duncan, II. 31
CampbeU, Lady John, II. 257
Campbell, Capt. Mungo, II. 63,
79. 122
Campbell, Thoraas, 32 ; II. 238,
245, 274
Camperdown, Lord, 16; II. 78

Canada, Conquest of, 16
Canadian priests, II. 97
Canadians, The, II. 106, 230
Cardaraqui, 231
Cassilis, Countess of, II. i66
Cassilis, Earl of, II. 165
Cawdor, Thane of, II. 264
Celtic language. The, 18
Centennial and Columbian Exposi
tions, 25
Central America, II. 269
Charles the Second, 45, 47
Charles II. , Beauties of Court, II.
269
Chaucer's Oxford Scholar, 30
Christian Indians, II. 42
Church, Miss Angelica, II. 258
Church, Mrs. Angelica, II. 258,
260, 261
Clarendon, Vt., II. 128, 129, 130,
131, 167, 179, 191, 197
Clark of Comrie, II. 241
Claverack on the Hudson, 15
Clydesdale, II. 190
Cochran, Dr. John, 253, 254;
IL 258
Cochran, Lady Thomas, II. 241
Cockburn, Lord Henry, 33
Cogswell, Joseph G., 10; II.
237, 248
Colburn, Henry, II. 274
Colden, Cadwallader, II. 4, 6,
132, i33> i95> ^69
Colden' s History Five Nations,
232
Colonial History, II. 107
Constable, T. and A., II. 288
Constable's Magazine, II. 244
Coonie Children, II. 179
Coonie, Patrick, II. 177
Cooper, James Fenimore, 16

INDEX

^93

Cooper, Gen. John T., II. 8
Corlaer, or governor, 226, 232
Cortlandts and Cuylers, 45
Cowper, Williara, II. 271
Crawford, Earl of, II. 85
Cromwell, Oliver, 189
Crown Point, 184 ; II. 89, 91, 92
Cruger, Mrs. Douglas, 21, 22 ;
II, 260, 266, 268
Cuyler, General, II. 36, 37, 263
Cuyler, Misses, II. 7
Cuyler, Abraham C, II. 37
Cuyler, Abraham N., 148
Cuyler, Cornelius, 66, 274 ; II.
22, 66, 135
Cuyler, Mrs. Comelius, 276 ; II.
39, 126
Cuyler, Elizabeth, II, 51
Cuyler, Johannes, 274
Cuyler, Philip, II. 37, 83, 196
Cuyler Family, II. 135
Dalyell, Capt. Jaraes, II. 107
Davers, Sir Charles, II. 105
Davers, Sir Robert, II. 99, loi,
102, 103, 104, 105
Dean, Capt. Steward, 47
D'Este, Colonel, 35
De la Barre, M., 229
De Lancey Faraily, 45, 46, 163
De Quincy, Thoraas, 26, 31
Detroit, Siege of, II. 50
Dewar, Mrs. Annie Laggan, II.
191
DeWitt, Dr. Thomas, 303
Dianaraat, II. 139
Diren, General, II. 247, 254
Douglas, George, of New York,
22
Douglas, Harriet. See Mrs.
Douglas Cruger

Duncan, Colonel, 16 ; II. 64, 65,
78, 96, 107, 122
Duncan, Lord, II. 64
Dunfermline, II. 191
Dunlop, Robert, II. 138
Dutchman's Fireside, The, 10, 25
Edinburgh, 23, 26, 30, 32 ; II,
280, 287
Edinburgh Castle, 31
Edinburgh Review, II. 245
Eglinton, The Earl of, II. 192
Eighteen -Hundred-and-Thirteen,
The poera of, 27
English Border, The, II. 247
English History, II. 170
Erskine, Chancellor, IL 269
Erskine, Mrs., II. 240, 242
Esmond, Henry, by Thackeray, 9
" Ettrick Shepherd." See Jaraes
Hogg
Fair Maid of Perth, II. 277
Fairraount Park, Philadelphia, II.
267
Falstaff's Soldiers, 188, 295
Ferra or. Lady Juliana, II. 267
Fifty-fifth Highlanders, II. 122,
123, 129, 191, 192
Fingal, a poem, II. 64
Five Nations, The, 62, 63 ; II.
14, 16, 232, 233
Fletcher, Mrs. Eliza, 26 ; II. 238,
253
Fontenoy, battle of, II. 31
Forbes, Lord, II. 252
Fort Augustus, Scotland, 17
Fort Brewerton, II. 63, 79
Fort Frontenac, 229
Fort Hendrick, II. 57
Fort Mackinaw, II. 95

294

INDEX

Fort Ontario, II. 65
Fort Orange (Albany), 48
Fort Oswego, II. 63
Fort St. Frederick, 1 84
Fort William, Inverness-shire, 13
Fort Williara Henry, II. 31
Franklin, Benjamin, II. 212
French Canadians, 156, 182
French Protestants, 246
French War, The, 186
Frielinghuysen, Dominie, 285,
289, 291, 297, 302, 303
Frontenac, Count, 229
Fry, Mrs. Elizabeth, II. 238, 281
Gaelic translations, 28
Garth, David Stewart of, II. 276
Gay, John, poet, 64
George the Fourth, 26 ; II. 256
Glassel, Miss, II. 257
Glenmoriston family, II. loi
Godolphin, Lord, 64
Goethe, J. W. von, II. 237
Goldsraith, Oliver, II. 285
Gordon, The Duchess of, 20
Gordon, Sir John Watson, 21 ;
IL 268
Graham, Capt. Gordon, II. 31
Grant, Commodore, II. loi
Grant, Mrs. Anne — Memoir of,
13 ; mentioned, 38, 42, 45,
148, 149, 217, 226; IL 9,
53, 74, 108, 135, 191, 237,
253. ^55, ^59. »68, 270, 271,
272, 273, 278, 282, 285 ;
Bibliography, 287, 288
Grant, Mrs. Elizabeth, 13
Grant, Mrs., of Carron, 13
Grant, Frederic, II. 241
Grant, The Rev. James, 17, 19, 31
Grant, John Andrew, 21

Grant, Mrs. John Peter, 21, 33
Grant, John Peter, 33 ; II. 238,
288
Grant, Captain Walter, 33
Grant, Sir William, 23, 37
Green Mountain Boys, II. 164,
199
Green Mountains, II. 198
Great Britain, II. 91
Gregory, Dr. John, II. 252
Groesbeck, Catherine, i6i
Guild, Miss, II. 280
Hamilton, Duke of, II. 256
Hamilton, Alexander, II. 213,
263
Hamilton, Mrs. Alexander, 10 ;
II. 258, 259, 260
Hamilton, Lord Archibald, II.
256
Harailton, Mrs. Elizabeth, 33
Hamilton, John C, II. 259
Hamilton, Philip, II. 259
Hamilton, Thomas, II. 256
Harailton, Sir William, II. 255,
256
Hall, Mrs. S. Carter, II. 280
Hall's History of Vermont, II.
164, 191
Halleck, Fitz-Greene, II. 237,
287
Harrowgate, England, II. 255
Hasell, Mrs., II. 268, 270
Hastings, Lady, II. 241
Hayley, William, 32 ; II. 271,
272
Hemans, Mrs. Felicia, 32 ; II.
279
Henry, Patrick, II. 247
Henry the Fifth, 34
Highland Regiments, II. 276

INDEX

295

Highland Society, The, 28
Highlanders and other Poems, 20,
34
Highlanders of Scotland, 1 8
Highlands of Scotland, II. 276
Highlands, Poetry of, 18
Hogg, James, 27
Holy Land, The, II. 269
Horses, unknown in Oswego, II.
74
Howe, Lord, II. 21, 22, 23, 26,
27, 105
Hudson River, The, 47; II. 185,
279
Huguenots, The, 25, 73, 191 ;
II. 212
Humboldt, Baron von, II. 237
Hunter, Robert, 162
Hunting Excursions, II. 70
Hurons, 230 ; II. 103, 108, 109
Indian Beauty, II. 99, 100
Indian com, II. 76
Indian language, 134
Indian Sacheras, 184
Indian Traders, 96
Indian War, II. no, 113, 117
Indian Widow, The, IL 282
Indian Wigwams, 17S
Indian Women, 138 ; II. 119
Iroquois, or Five Nations, 55
Irving, Washington, 9, 32 ; II.
237, 245
Isle of Wight, IL 238
Jameson, Mrs. Anne, II. 269
Jay, Frances, II. 52
Jay, John, II. 257
Jay, Peter Augustus, II. 257
Jeffrey, Lord Francis, 9, 27, 33
Johnson, Sir Guy, II. 43

Johnson, Sir John, II. 166, 193,
232
Johnson, Dr. Sarauel, 54
Johnson, Sir William, II. 4, n,
14) 17, 93. 96. 103. 233
Johnson Hall, II. 15, 262
Jordanhill, Scotland, II. 240
Kennedy, Archibald, II. 165
Killiekrankie, battle of, II. 276
King George the Third, 124, 227
King Hendrick, 62 ; II. 57, 58
King William the Third, 46
Kings Arms, New York Inn, 124
Kinrara, The Estate of, 20
Laggan, Inverness-shire, 17, 19,
20, 26
Lake Charaplain, 148
Lake George, II. 29, 30
Lake Huron, II. 108
Lake Ontario, 229
Lambert, Major William H., 9
Lansing, Gertrude, 253 ; II. 193
Lansing, Johannes, 245
Lansing, Peter, II. 196
Laplanders, The, II. , 222
Lee, Gen. Charles, II. 25, 33
Legare, Hugh Swinton, II. 248
Legends of the Madonna, II. 269
Leggins, of deer skin, 132
Leighton, Bishop, II. 240
Lennox, Mrs. Charlotte, 54
Lenox Library, II. 285
Letters from the Mountains, 17,
23. 24
Lines to a Lady, II. 283
Literary Rerainiscences, 26
Livingston, Mr., Edinburgh, II.
243
Livingston, Walter, 253

296

INDEX

Livingston Family, 163
Loch Katrine, II. 238
Lochawside, Scotland, II. 180
Lochiel, Cameron of, II. 276
Lockhart, John Gibson, II. 251,
255
Longman & Co., London, 22, 24,
34 ; II. 287, 288
Lome, The Marquis of, 21
Loudon, Lady, II. 241
Loudon, Lord, II. 1 1
Louis Fourteenth, 56, 192
Loulsburgh, Capture of, II. 91
Lovelace, Governor, 162
Low, Nicholas, II. 52
Lowell, Miss Anne Cabot, 23, 24
Lowell, John, Junior, 23
Lowell, Judge John, 24
Lowell, Miss Sarah, II. 248
Lydius, The Rev. John, 303
Macdonald, Captain, II. 241
Mackay, General, II. 277
Mackenzie, Catherine, II. 270
Mackenzie, Henry, 27, 35 ; II.
271, 276
Macphail, J. R. N., II. 288
MacVicar, Capt. Duncan, 13, 15,
16, 17; II. 122,124, 147. 160,
162, 164, 166, 180, 191, 192
MacVicar, Mrs. Duncan, 15
Mariamat, II. 139
Marlborough, Duke of, 64
Marriages in Albany, 108
Middleton, Mr., of S. C, IL
253
Milton, John, 16, 19 ; II. 88,
122, 150
Moccasins, of deer skin, 132
Mohawk language, 143
Mohawk Valley, II. 79

Mohawks, The, 55, 100, 156,
159, 183, 189
Mohicans, The LaiJt ofthe, 16
Montague, Lady Mary, 141
Montgomerie, Colonel, II. 192
Moore, Lady Henry, II. 132
Moore, Sir Henry, II. 132, 133
Mount Annan, II. 246, 247, 254
Mount Henry, II. 272
Mount Seir, 206
Munhattoes, The, 45, 47
Munro, John, II. 164, 183
Munsell, Joel, 10; II. 288
Murray, Lady Augusta, 35
New England, II. 119, 136, 278
New Hampshire, 236
New Jersey College, 252
New York City, II. 115, 124,
'93. 19s
New York troops, 188, 194
Newton, Sir Isaac, II. 284
Niagara Falls, II. loi
Nigel, Fortunes of, II. 255
North, Christopher. See Prof.
John Wilson
North Araerica, 141 ; II, 91
North American Review, II. 278,
288
Norton, Andrews, II. 278, 280
Norton, Mrs. Andrews, II. 278,
280
Norton, Charles Eliot, II. 280'
O'Callaghan, Dr. Edmund
Bailey, II. 50
O'Doherty, The, IL 256
Ogilvie, Dr. John, II. 42, 135
Onnonthio, or Govemor, 226,
230, 231
Onondagas, The, 55, 229

INDEX

297

Ontario Lands, II. 96
Opie, Mrs. Amelia, II. 280, 281
Ossian, The poem of, 18
Oughton, Sir Adolphus, II. 45
Oxford, Lord, 64
Paradise Lost, 16, 65 ; II. 79,
87
Parkman's Pontiac, II. 107
Paulding, James Kirke, 10, 25
Pearson's Albany Settlers, 164
Penn, Gov. John, II. 267
Penn, William, II. 221, 223,
225, 267
Pennsylvania, II. 219
Philipse, Frederick, and Manor
Confiscated, 50
Plays represented, 293
Pontiac War, The, II. 50, 93,
95. 96. 97. 98, 99. i°3. "8
Potato Bogle, II, 245
Poughkeepsie, N. Y., II. 270,
282
Preston, William C, of South
Carolina, II. 248, 253, 268
Prince Leopold, II. 239
Pruyn, Col. Augustus, 10
Pruyn, Mrs. John V. L., II. 252
Pultowa, Battle of, II. 65
Quackawary, II. 217
Quakers, The, II. 225, 227, 267
Queen Anne, 63
Queen of Hearts, II. 99
Qnincy, Mrs. Josiah, 23
Ralston, Robeit, of Philadel
phia, II. 248
Recmiting Officer, The, 297
Rensselaerwyck, 46
Revolutionary Fathers, II. 263

Rhode Island, 271
Richard Cceur de Lion, II. 282
Richardson, Sir John, II. 253
Rogers, Sarauel, II. 245
Roman Atticus, II. 196
Ross, Mrs. Schuyler, governess,
II. 258, 261
Roy, Jaraes, II. 177
Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch, 13
Royal Americans, 285
Ryerson, Doctor, II. 254
Saint Caroline, II. 251
St. Lawrence River, II. 65
St. Lucia Island, II. 276, 277
Schenectady, II. 57, 159
Schuyler, Catalina, 66 ; II. 87
Schuyler, Cornelius, II. 45
Schuyler, Cortlandt, II. 45, 126,
139. 193. 196. 263
Schuyler, George L., 21
Schuyler, George W., 10
Schuyler, Gertrude, 245
Schuyler, Jeremiah, 148, 152,
161, 185, 247, 250
Schuyler, Johannes, 66, 180 ; II.
113
Schuyler, John, 55
Schuyler, John, Jr., II. 9
Schuyler, John C, 166 ; II. 48
Schuyler, Margaretta ("Aunt"),
24, 66, 128, 129, 131, 146,
147, 162, 166, 180, 195, 198,
200, 237, 243, 244, 249, 286,
287, 306 ; II. X, 3, 9, 10, 24,
25. 33. 35. 47. 48, 82, 86,
92, 97, 106, 113, 117. "9/
121, 122, 126, 131, 132, 134,
135. 139. '5°. '58, 165, 178,
179, 191, 192, 194, 195, 196,
197, 260, 261, 266, 271

298

INDEX

Schuyler, Peter, Colonel, 128,
146, 161, 184, 185, 220, 246 ;
IL 165
Schuyler, Peter (Pedrom), 148,
152 ; II. 12, 138
Schuyler, Col. Peter S., 128
Schuyler, Col. PhUip, 24, 146,
147, 152, 15s, 245, 280 ; II.
I. 3. 9
Schuyler, Gen. Philip, 55 ; II. 9,
12, 44, 50, 52, 113, 126, 132,
184, 258
Schuyler, Pieter, Col., 59, 60, 64,
73,86
Schuyler, Rensselaer, II. 258
Schuyler, Mrs. Richard, II. 48
Schuyler, Stephen, II. 51
Schuyler, Susan, 248
Schuyler Flats, II. 8, 136
Schuyler house burned, II. 48
Schuylerville, N. Y., IL 114
Scot, John, killed in duel, II. 252
Scott, Sir Walter, 9, 22, 27, 35 ;
IL 237, 245, 255, 275, 276,
285
Scottish Highlanders, 27
Scottish Highlands, II. 279
Scottish History Society, II. 288
Scottish Literary World, 27
Scottish Peasants, II. 112
Selkirk, Earl of, II. 231
Seresby, Professor, II. 256
Seventy-Seventh Highlanders, 13
Shakespeare, 30, 295 ; II. 149,
168, 169, 255, 269
Shirley, Govemor, 186
Smyth, Henry and Isabella, II. 272
Solway Firth, II. 254
Somerville, Lord, II. 250
Southey, Robert, 9 ; II. 273, 275
Spectator, of London, 59, 64

Staats, Drs. Abraham and Samuel,
131
Staats, Barent, II. 196
Stealing turkeys, 1 22
Steamboats, Newton and Roches
ter, 47
Steenhoek kill, 154
Stephens, John L., II. 269
Steuart, Sir Heniy, II. 272
Stewart, Gen. David, II. 276,
277, 278
Stewart, Alexander of Inverna-
hyle, 13
Stoics ofthe Woods, II. 268
Stuart, Colonel, II. 239
Stuart, Dr. John, II. 43
Stuart, Hon. William, II. 267
Stuart Cause, The, IL 288
Superstitions of Highlanders, 27
Symes, Lancaster, 303
Ten Broeck, Gen. Abraham, 45
Ten Broeck, Dirk (Mayor), 45
Ten Broeck, Dirk Wesselse, 45,
274
Ten Broeck, Mrs. Elizabeth, 46
Thackeray, William M., 9, 32 ;
IL 271, 273
Thorburn, Grant, II. 287
Thorndike, Augustus, II. 242,
246, 248
Ticknor, George, II. 64, 237,
248, 253
Ticonderoga, 15 ; II. 29, 40, 91
Trees, 76, 103 ; elms and syca
mores, 150
Trinity Church, New York, II.
42
Trois Rivieres, II. 82
Tweedy, Sarah, II. 83
Tyte, a Schuyler servant, 268

INDEX

299

United States, The, II. 228,
231, 273
Upper Canada, II. 233 ; Mo
hawks reraoved to, II. 233
Upper Lakes, II. 93 ; Indian War
ofthe, II. 93, 94
Utopia, A Serene, II. 72
Utrecht, Treaty of, 184
Van Cortlandt, Augustus and
James, II. 52
Van Cortlandt, Cornelia, II. 113
Van Cortlandt, John, II. 83
Van Cortlandt, Olof S., II. 52
Van Cortlandt, Stephanus, II.
83
Van Cortlandt Manor, 50 ; II.
Van Rensselaer, Cornelius, II.
152
Van Rensselaer, Jeremiah, 146
Van Rensselaer, John, 280 ; II.
154
Van Rensselaer, Maria, 146
Van Rensselaer, Stephen (Pat
roon), 46, 48
Van Rensselaer Faraily, The,
II. 9
Van der Poel, Johaimes and Mrs.,
201
Venice and Oswego, II. 74
Venison, abundance of, 271 ; II.
71
Voice of Cona, 44
Wallace, by Blind Harry, 15
Wampum preferred to beads, 217
Warrior, refractory, 186, 187
Washington, Gen. George, II.
247. 257. 260, 263

Watts, John and Anne, II. 165
Waverley, by Sir Walter Scott,
13, 14
Waverley Novels, attributed to
Mrs. Grant, 27
Welwood's "Memoirs of Eng
land," II. 64
Wendell, Jacob, II. 150
WendeU, Mrs. Jacob, II. 151,
181
West Friesland, 289
West India Girls, 20
West India Productions, 273
Westminster, Peace of, 47
West Troy, N. Y., IL 177
Westerlo, Rev. Eilardus, II. 41
Weyman, New York printer, 289
White Creek, N. Y., II. 191
White Plains, N. Y., II. 63 ;
battle of, II. 63
White's History of Selbome, 197
Whittington and his Cat, 197
Wigwaras at the Flats, 178, 185
Wild turkeys, II. 72
Wilson, James, II. 256
Wilson, James Grant, 9, 25, 27,
32, 36 ; II. 260, 268, 271,
288
Wilson, Prof. John ("Christo
pher North"), 27; II. 255
Wilson, Mrs. Jane Sibbald, 34 ;
II. 270
Wilson, William, 9, 30, 34 ; II.
268, 282, 288
Wilson's Poets and Poetry of
Scotland, 27 ; II. 288
Winds, mild Southern, 9 3
Windsor Forest, 64
Winepress, Captain, commands
Albany fort, II. 79
Winter amusements, 117

300

INDEX

Winters, coldness of, 92, 93 ;
II. 161
Wolf, a favorite horse, stratagem
of, 268
Wolfe, General James, II. 40
Wolves of America, 68, loi,
217 ; II. 61, 62
Wolves, foxes, and bears, II. 61
Women Slaves, 142, 143
Wood Creek, II. 59, 60

Wood rangers, practical, II. 71
Worcester's Rebellion, 241
Wordsworth, William, II. 245
Wrens, and their nests, 167, 172
Wynant's Kill, and Islands, 148
Yucatan, II. 269
Yonnondio, 231, 232
Zephaniah and Obadiah, II. 147

I
oi