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 and the desire to do honour to the heir to her throne, Digitized by Microsoft® 384 The Hudson River though somewhat at variance with the sentiment of a democratic declaration, was yet strong and spontan- eous. Who, at that time of rejoicing and .congratula- tions, could anticipate the horror and mystery that would afterwards surround the fate of this royal infant ? History has related the imprisonment of the Dauphin, after the downfall of his ill-fated house, has told of the cruelty of the brutish Simon, and has re- corded the prince's death from a scrofulous affection induced by the filth and malnutrition which made his lot more to be pitied than that of the meanest peasant in the land. History, however, asserts this denoue- ment with less assurance since the publication, half a century ago, of the story of the Rev. Eleazer Williams. In 1850, a strong claim was advanced that Mr. Williams, of Green Bay, Wisconsin, an adopted member of an Indian tribe and afterwards a missionary among that people, was none other than Louis XVII., long thought to be dead. There was a curious succession of evid- ences, sufficient to convince many astute men, in support of this claim, which Mr. Williams himself be- lieved, though he made no attempt to take advantage of his supposed birthright. Our limited space will not permit the discussion of this interesting subject, which the reader will find amply set forth in periodicals of the years 1850-52. Fort Putnam is one of the most celebrated and, in some respects, the most attractive of the military re- mains of the Revolutionary period at the Point. It Digitized by Microsoft® West Point 385 was built upon a spur six hundred feet above the level of the river, and so situated that it commands an extensive view of the water and of the Highlands on both sides. It is somewhat back of the Point, and, though long since disused by troops, its parapets and several of its ancient casemates are still preserved. "The spot where Kosciusko dreamed" is still a place where the young man may see visions not less exalted than those of the liberty-loving Pole. Among the mementos of many battle-fields, the trophies of many victories, and reminders of the fame of captains whose lives were gloriously spent for the salvation of the State, the feet of those who in their turn shall lead now tread the daily round of discipline. Before West Point the river is a lake, across which a miniature ferry-boat plies from Garrison's, upon the eastern shore. From that inconsiderable elevation no inlet or outlet to the placid and beautiful sheet of water is visible. It was here, in a time long past, that Fanny Kemble loved to row her boat, mooring it in some attractive little cove along shore when the heat became burdensome. A brook that flows into the bay north of Garrison's was a favourite haunt of hers, and the cascade that for years had been known as Indian Falls was afterwards rechristened Fanny Kemble 's Bath. Only a short distance from this stream and almost directly east of Constitution Island is the house owned by Clara Louise Kellogg. Beyond Cold- spring, with its smoking foundry and wharf, at the 25 Digitized by Microsoft® 386 The Hudson River very foot of Bull Hill is Morris's Undercliff . Opposite, old Cro'nest lifts its rugged brow fourteen hundred feet in air. Above them still are Storm King, upon the west, and Breakneck on the. east - shore, making the upper gate of the Highlands. In that curious jour- nal of a voyage up the Hudson in 1769 which we have the good fortune to publish in this volume, the reader will notice that the name " Broken Neck Hill ' ' appears, and a glance at the camel-like profile of the mountain in question will go far toward convincing one that the later name, "Breakneck," is a corruption of a title that was really descriptive. The name Breakneck might be applied with equal propriety to any of the steep-sided promontories along the rock-wall of the Highlands. Uninteresting in many respects as Coldspring is to those not imrnediately