CHAPTER III.
It was dinner-time when Captain Raymond and his children reached theirhotel, and at the conclusion of the meal they went immediately to thestation of the Mount McGregor road. There was just time for the buyingof the tickets and seating themselves comfortably in the cars beforethe train started.
"Papa, how long will it take us to go there?" asked Lulu.
"Thirty-five minutes," he answered. "It is about ten miles to themountain; then we go up about eleven hundred feet above SaratogaSprings."
"Yes, sir," said Max; "and here on this time-table it says that in someplaces the grade is as high as two hundred and forty-six feet to themile."
"Set that down in your memory," returned his father, with a smile."Now look out of the windows, Max and Lulu; the country is well worthseeing."
The ride seemed very short,--it was so enjoyable,--and Lulu was quitesurprised when the car stopped and all the passengers hurried out.
Every one went into the Drexel Cottage, which was close at hand. A manshowed them about, pointing out the objects of special interest,--thebed where General Grant died, the candle he had extinguished but a fewminutes before breathing his last, and so on.
They spent some time in the cottage, going quietly about, looking witha sad interest at everything which had any connection with the deardeparted great man, then went on up to the mountain top, where stood alarge hotel. They passed it, and went on to the edge of the mountain,which overlooks the Hudson River valley.
"Oh, what a lovely view!" cried Lulu, in delight. "What mountains arethose, Papa?"
"Those to the east," he replied, pointing in that direction ashe spoke, "are the Green Mountains, those to the north are theAdirondacks, and those to the south the Catskills."
"Oh, Lu, look yonder!" cried Max. "There's Schuylerville with itsmonument, I do believe,--isn't it, Papa?"
"Yes, you are right,--the place of Burgoyne's surrender, which wevisited this morning," the Captain answered. "Now suppose we go to theobservatory at the top of the hotel, and take the view from there."
Max and Lulu gave an eager assent to the proposal. There were a goodmany stairs to climb, but the view fully repaid them for the exertion.They spent some minutes in gazing upon it, then descended and wanderedthrough the woods till the train was ready to start down the mountain.
Max and Lulu were tired enough to go to bed at dark; and the nextmorning they took an early train to Albany, where they boarded a finesteamer, which would carry them down the Hudson River to West Point,where, to the children's great delight, their father had promised tostay a day or two, and show them all of historical interest connectedwith the spot.
It was the first trip on the Hudson that Max or his sister had evertaken, and they enjoyed it greatly,--all the more because their fatherwas sufficiently familiar with the scenes through which they werepassing to call their attention to whatever was best worth noticing,and give all desired information in regard to it, doing so in thekindest and pleasantest manner possible. The weather was all that couldbe desired,--cloudy, with an occasional shower, seldom heavy enoughto obscure the view to any great extent, and just cooling the airpleasantly, as Lulu remarked with much satisfaction.
It was not raining when they landed at West Point, though clouds stillveiled the sun. They took a carriage near the wharf, and drove to thehotel. As they alighted, some gentlemen were talking upon its porch,one of whom was in military uniform.
"Raymond, this is a meeting as delightful as unexpected,--to me atleast!" he exclaimed, coming hastily forward with out-stretched hand.
"Keith, I don't know when I have had a pleasanter surprise!" returnedCaptain Raymond, taking the offered hand and shaking it heartily, whilehis eyes shone with pleasure. "You are not here permanently?"
"No; only on a furlough. And you?"
"Just for a day or two, to show my children our military academy andthe points of historical interest in its vicinity," replied CaptainRaymond, glancing down upon them with a smile of fatherly pride andaffection. "Max and Lulu, this gentleman is Lieutenant Keith, of whomyou have sometimes heard me speak, and whom your mamma calls CousinDonald."
"Your children, are they? Ah, I think I might have known them anywherefrom their remarkable resemblance to you, Raymond!" Mr. Keith said,shaking hands first with Lulu, then with Max.
He chatted pleasantly with them for a few minutes, while their fatherattended to engaging rooms and having the baggage taken up to them.When he rejoined them Keith asked, "May I have the pleasure of showingyou about, Raymond?"
"Thank you; no better escort could be desired," replied the Captain,heartily, "you being a valued friend just met after a long separation,and also an old resident here, thoroughly competent for the task, andthoroughly acquainted with all the points of interest."
"I think I may say I am that," returned Keith, with a smile; "and itwill give me the greatest pleasure to show them to you,--as great,doubtless, as you seemed to find some years ago in showing me over yourman-of-war. But first, let us take a view from the porch here. Yonder,"pointing in a westerly direction, "at the foot of the hills, are thedwellings of the officers and professors. In front of them you see theparade-ground: there, on the south side, are the barracks. There is theGrecian chapel, yonder the library building, with its domed turrets,and there are the mess hall and hospital." Then turning toward the westagain, "That lofty summit," he said, "is Mount Independence, and theruins that crown it are those of 'Old Fort Put.' That still loftierpeak is Redoubt Hill. There, a little to the north, you see Old Cro'Nest and Butter Hill. Now, directly north, through that magnificentcleft in the hills, you can see Newburgh and its bay. Of the scenery inthe east we will have a better view from the ruins of 'Old Put.'"
"No doubt," said the Captain. "Shall we go up there at once?"
"If you like, Raymond. I always enjoy the view; it more than pays forthe climb. But," and Mr. Keith glanced somewhat doubtfully at Lulu,"shall we not take a carriage? I fear the walk may be too much for yourlittle girl."
"What do you say, Lulu?" her father asked with a smiling glance at her.
"Oh, I'd rather walk, Papa!" she exclaimed. "We have been riding somuch for the last week and more; and you know I'm strong and well, anddearly love to climb rocks and hills."
"Very well, you shall do as you like, and have the help of Papa's handover the hard places," he said, offering it as he spoke.
She put hers into it with a glad look and smile up into his face thatalmost made Donald Keith envy the Captain the joys of fatherhood.
They set off at once. Lulu found it a rather hard climb, or that itwould have been without her father's helping hand; but the top of MountIndependence was at length reached, and the little party stood amongthe ruins of Fort Putnam. They stood on its ramparts recovering breathafter the ascent, their faces turned toward the east, silently gazingupon the beautiful panorama spread out at their feet.
It was the Captain who broke the silence. "You see that range of hillson the farther side of the river, children?"
"Yes, sir," both replied with an inquiring look up into his face.
"In the time of the Revolution every pinnacle was fortified, and oneach a watch-fire burned," he said.
"They had a battery on each, Papa?" queried Max.
"Yes; but yonder, at their foot, stands something that will interestyou still more,--the Beverly House, from which Arnold the traitor fledto the British ship 'Vulture,' on learning that Andre had been taken."
"Oh, is it, sir?" exclaimed Max, in a tone of intense interest. "How Iwould like to visit it,--can we, Papa?"
"I too; oh, very much!" said Lulu. "Please take us there,--won't you,Papa?"
"I fear there will be hardly time, my dears; but I will see about it,"was the indulgent reply.
"You have been here before, Raymond?" Mr. Keith said inquiringly.
"Yes; on my first bridal trip," the Captain answered in a low, movedtone, and sighing slightly as the words left his lips.
"With our own
mother, Papa?" asked Lulu, softly, looking up into hisface with eyes full of love and sympathy.
"Yes, daughter; and she enjoyed the view very much as you are doingnow."
"I'm glad; I like to think she saw it once."
An affectionate pressure of the hand he held was his only reply. Thenturning to his friend, "It is a grand view, Keith," he said; "and onethat always stirs the patriotism in my blood, inherited from ancestorswho battled for freedom in those Revolutionary days."
"It is just so with myself," replied Keith; "and the view is a grandone in itself, though there were no such association,--a superbpanorama! The beautiful, majestic river sweeping about the rock-boundpromontory below us there, with its tented field; yonder the distantspires of Newburgh, and the bright waters of its bay, seen throughthat magnificent cleft in the hills," pointing with his finger as hespoke,--"ah, how often I have seen it all in imagination when out inthe far West scouting over arid plains, and among desolate barrenhills and mountains, where savages and wild beasts abound! At times anirrepressible longing for this very view has come over me,--a sort ofhomesickness, most difficult to shake off."
"Such as years in the ports of foreign lands have sometimes broughtupon me," observed the Captain, giving his friend a look of heartfeltsympathy.
"Dear Papa, I'm so glad that is all over," Lulu said softly, leaninglovingly up against him as she spoke, and again lifting to his eyes herown so full of sympathy and affection. "Oh, it is so pleasant to haveyou always at home with us!"
A smile and an affectionate pressure of the little soft white hand heheld were his only reply.
"Ah, my little girl, when Papa sees a man-of-war again, he will belikely to wish himself back in the service once more!" remarked Keith,in a sportive tone, regarding her with laughing eyes.
"No, sir, I don't believe it," she returned stoutly. "Papa loves hishome and wife and children too well for that; besides, he has resignedfrom the navy, and I don't believe they'd take him back again."
"Well, Lu," said Max, "that's a pretty way to talk about Papa! Now,it's my firm conviction that they'd be only too glad to get him back."
"That's right, Max; stand up for your father always," laughed Keith."He is worthy of it; and I don't doubt the government would be ready toaccept his services should he offer them."
"Of course," laughed the Captain; "but I intend to give them thoseof my son instead," turning a look upon Max so proudly tender andappreciative that the lad's young heart bounded with joy.
"Ah, is that so?" said Keith, gazing appreciatively into the lad'sbright young face. "Well, I have no doubt he will do you credit. Max,my boy, never forget that you have the credit of an honourable name tosustain, and that in so doing you will make your father a proud andhappy man."
"That is what I want to do, sir," replied Max, modestly. Then hastilychanging the subject, "Papa, is that town over there Phillipstown?"
"Yes; what do you remember about it?"
"That a part of our Revolutionary army was camped there in 1781. Andthere, over to the left, is Constitution Island,--isn't it, sir?"
"Yes," answered his father; then went on to tell of the building of thefort from which the island takes its name, and its abandonment a fewdays after the capture by the British of Forts Clinton and Montgomery,near the lower entrance to the Highlands, in 1777.
"Such a pity, after they had been to all the expense and trouble ofbuilding it!" remarked Lulu.
"Yes, quite a waste," said Max; "but war's a wasteful business anywayit can be managed."
"Quite true, Max," said, Mr. Keith; "and soldier though I am, Isincerely hope we may have no more of it in this land."
"No, sir; but the best way to keep out of it is to show ourselvesready for self-defence. That is what Papa says."
"And I entirely agree with him. Shall we go now, Raymond, and see whatof interest is to be found in the buildings and about the grounds ofthe academy?"
The Captain gave a ready assent, and they retraced their steps, hehelping Lulu down the mountain as he had helped her up.
Keith took them, first, to the artillery laboratory to see, as he said,some trophies and relics of the Revolution. Conducting them to thecentre of the court, "Here," he remarked, "are some interesting ones,"pointing, as he spoke, to several cannon lying in a heap, and encircledby some links of an enormous chain.
"Oh," exclaimed Max, "is that part of the great chain that wasstretched across the Hudson, down there by Constitution Island, in thetime of the Revolution?"
"Yes," replied Keith. "And these two brass mortars were taken fromBurgoyne at Saratoga; this larger one, Wayne took from the British atStony Point. I dare say you and your sister are acquainted with thestory of that famous exploit."
"Oh, yes, sir!" they both replied; and Lulu asked, "Is that the Englishcoat-of-arms on the big cannon?"
Her look directed the query to her father, and he answered, "Yes."
"And what do these words below it mean, Papa,--'Aschaleh fecit, 1741'?"
"Aschaleh is doubtless the name of the maker; '_fecit_' means heexecuted it, and 1741 gives the time when it was done."
"Thank you, sir," she said. "Is there any story about that one?"pointing to another cannon quite near at hand.
"Yes," he said; "by its premature discharge, in 1817, a cadet namedLowe was killed. In the cemetery is a beautiful monument to his memory."
"Here are two brass field-pieces, each marked 'G. R.,'" said Max. "Dothose letters stand for George Rex,--King George,--Papa?"
"Yes; that was the monogram of the king."
"And the cannon is fourteen years younger than those others," remarkedLulu; "for, see there, it says, 'W. Bowen fecit, 1755.'"
"Oh, here's an inscription!" exclaimed Max, and read aloud, "'Takenfrom the British army, and presented, by order of the United States,in Congress assembled, to Major-General Green, as a monument of theirhigh sense of the wisdom, fortitude, and military talents whichdistinguished his command in the Southern department, and of theeminent services which, amid complicated dangers and difficulties, heperformed for his country. October 18th, 1783.' Oh, that was right!"supplemented the lad, "for I do think Green was a splendid fellow."
"He was, indeed!" said the Captain; "and he has at last been given sucha monument as he should have had very many years sooner."
"Where is it, Papa?" asked Lulu.
"In Washington. It is an equestrian statue, by Henry Kirke Brown."
"Yes; and very glad I am that even that tardy act of justice has beendone him,--one of the bravest and most skilful commanders of ourRevolutionary War," remarked Mr. Keith. Then he added, "I think we haveseen about all you will care for here, Raymond, and that you mightenjoy going out upon the parade-ground now. The sun is near setting,and the battalion will form presently, and go through some interestingexercises."
"Thank you!" the Captain said. "Let us, then, go at once, for I seeMax and his sister are eager for the treat," he added, with a smilingglance from one brightly expectant young face to the other.