ruined man and must instantly fly for his life! Overcome by the shock, she fell senseless to the floor. Without pausing to aid her, he hurried down-stairs, sent the messenger to her assist- ance, probably to keep him from an interview with the other officers ; returned to the breakfast-room and informed his guests that he must haste to West Point to prepare for the reception of the commander-in-chief; and, mounting the horse of the messenger, which stood saddled at the door, galloped down by what is still called Arnold's Path, to the landing-place, where his six-oared barge was moored. Throwing himself into it, he ordered his men to pull out into the middle of the river, and then made down with all speed. Another hour revealed the treachery, but the traitor was out of reach. Digitized by Microsoft® 382 The Hudson River The landing where Arnold kept his barge in readi- ness for such an emergency as he was finally compelled to face was where a jutting promontory makes out into the river above Anthony's Nose. The Catholic Institute, formerly a hotel, that forms a conspicuous landmark south of the Point, has been the resting-place for many a distinguished visitor in years gone by. About 1850, Willis wrote to his friend and partner, Morris, as follows: Within a stone's throw from the portico of the hotel, upon a knoll half hidden with trees, stands one of the most beautiful structures, of its kind, in this country — a stone church, of Eng- lish rural architecture, built by the painter, Robert Weir. The story of its construction is a touching poem. When Mr. Weir received ten thousand dollars from the government for his pict- ure on the panel of the Capitol, he invested it, untouched, for the benefit of his three children. On the death of these children — all three — soon after, the money reverted to him, but he had a feeling which forbade him to use it. Struck with the favour- ableness of this knoll under the mountains as a site for a place of worship, much needed by the village nearby, he applied for it to Mr. Cozzens, on whose property it stood, and who at once made a free gift of it for the purpose. The painter's taste and heart were set to work, and with the money left him by his child- ren and contributions from General Scott and others, he erected this simple and beautiful structure, as a memorial of hallowed utility. Its bell for evening service sounded a few minutes ago — the tone selected, apparently, with the taste which governed all, and making sweet music among the mountains that look down upon it. Willis is so quotable that another excerpt from an- other letter to his "Dear Morris" may be forgiven. Digitized by Microsoft® West Point 383 This time he is writing of " the grey- tailed bird of war " of his section of the nineteenth century : Speaking of grey coats, I understand, at the Point, that this classic uniform of the military Academy is to be changed to a blue frock. It will be a sensible and embellishing alteration, and the cadets will look more like reasoning adults and less like plover in pantaloons — but what is to become of all the tender memories, "thick as leaves in Vallambrosa," which are con- nected with that uniform only? What belle of other days ever comes back to the Point without looking out upon the Parade from the windows of the hotel and indulging in a dreamy recall of the losing of her heart, pro tern., on her first summer tour, to one of those grey-tailed birds of war? A flirtation with a grey- coat at the Point is in every pretty woman's history, from Maine to Florida. Suppress those tapering swallow-tails! Why, it would be a moulting of the feathers of first loves, which will make a cold shiver throughout the Union. I doubt whether the blue frock, with its similarity to the coats of common mor- tals, will ever acquire the same mystic irresistibleness which has belonged to that uniform of grey. The blue may be ad- mired, but the pepper-and-salt of other days will be perpetuated in poems. Upon the rising ground near Fort CHnton, a memor- able fete, attended by the civil and military officers of high rank in the United States, occurred in 1785. The occasion was the birth of the Dauphin of France, and Washington presided over an assemblage that was bright with the beauty of what Griswold called "the RepubHcan court." With whatever of splendour the resources or the taste of the time could accomplish, the celebration took place, for the gratitude of the lately liberated country towards France was still keen