Augustus E. Silliman

“ We clear the broad meadows. Our very horses, with ears erect, gather speed with every bound, and seem ready to cry ha! ha! We are the fabled centaurs of old.
See! see!—the heavy morning mist, rising in huge volumes, reluctantly bares the forest on the mountain side,—it curls and breaks in vast masses,—it slowly rolls off to the eastward. Aye! there he stands—there stands old Holyoke, with his cragged coronal of rocks, a gigantic Titan, bidding defiance to time and tempest. Gallop—gallop! we are within two hundred feet of the summit. ”

“ See from this point how gently and gracefully undulates the battle-field; the woods bowing to the evening breeze, as the soft sunlight pours through their branches show not the gashes of rude cannon shot—the plain, loaded and bending with the yellow harvest, betrays no human gore—yon hill scathed, scorched and blackened with cannon flame, the very resting place of the deadly battery, shows no relic of the fierce death struggle, as covered with the fragrant clover and wild blue-bell, the bee in monotonous hum banquets o’er it. Nought mars the serenity of nature as she smiles upon us. ”

“ The neighbouring inhabitants, myself among the number, were soon upon that point, and by the glittering flashes within musket shot of the shore, discerned a Spanish ship on the very ridge of the frightful reef—the stumps of her masts alone remaining—the surf running and breaking in a continual deluge over her, while in her fore shrouds were congregated the unhappy crew. She was so near to us, that we could almost see the expression of agony in their countenances, as, with extended hands they piteously shrieked for help. Their situation was hopeless. We could do nothing for them. ”

“ The cloud in the horizon began to extend itself, increasing and gradually rising and covering the sky, and the old man’s prediction was evidently about to be fulfilled. A dead calm lay upon the river, and a preternatural stillness clothed in a sort of stupor the whole face of nature around us; while low muttering rolls of thunder from the dark cloud, and the frequent, sudden, crinkling lightning, glittering across its surface, warned us that we were about to encounter one of those violent and terrible thunder-storms which not unfrequently occur in this part of the country. ”

“ As the gust struck the schooner, she checked for a moment as if in surprise, and then shot forward with the speed of an arrow from the bow, swept on in the furious tempest as if she had been a gossamer or feather, enveloped in dust and darkness, the rain and hail hissing as it drove onwards, and the terrific thunder, now like whole broadsides of artillery, now quick and incessant peals of musquetry, roaring with frightful violence around her, while the deep black forest, lit up by the blue lightning, bellowed incessantly with the hollow echoes. ”

“ The little town swells to a goodly city—the forests fall around—the farms stretch out their borders—wains creak and groan with harvest wealth—lordly shipping floats on the rivers—the fair haired race increase—roads mark the country—and the deer and game, scared, fly the haunts of men.—Hah!—the same flag floats not at the Manahattoes!—now, ’tis Stars and Stripes—See!—crowding across the river men in dark masses—cannon—muniments of war—in boats—on rafts—in desperate haste. ”

“ Their companions came not—the hours rolled on—no boat hailed—no oar splashed in the surrounding darkness. The East grew grey with the dawn—the sun shone brightly above the horizon, nought but a few shattered vessels lying near the shore—the flotilla—the batteries—and the minarets of Tripoli, gilded by the morning sunbeams, met their gaze. Those noble spirits had written their history. Whether consigned to eternity by a shot of the enemy, prematurely exploding the magazine, or from the firing of the train by their own hands, must always remain untold and unknown. ”

“ Hark! the roll of the drum, as we round the bend—thy beautiful plateau, West Point, with its gallant spirits, is above us. Success to thee, school of the brave! Engineers for her hours of peace, soldiers in war to lead her armies, dost thou furnish to thy country—brave, enduring men. When fell thy sons other than in the battle’s front? when in the fiercest danger were they found recreant? Aye, well may Echo answer “When?”
The thunder of thy bowling balls, Old Hudson, we hear as we pass the gorges of the Catskill. ”

“ Morris, give it to them,—now give it to them—fore and aft—round and grape—give it to ’em, sir—give it to ’em,’ and the words was scarce out of his mouth, before our whole broadside glanced at half pistol shot—the old ship trembling from her keel to her trucks, like an aspen, at the roar of her own batteries—instantly shooting ahead and doubling across his bows, we gave him the other with three cheers, and then at it we went—regular hammer and tongs. You would a thought you were in a thunder storm in the tropics, from the continual roar and flash of the batteries. ”

“ Queenstown, thy sanguinary heights, crowned with brave Briton’s monument, we pass, and now the rising mist-wreaths warn us of thy approach, Niagara. Huzza! huzza! now for a bath under the roaring Cataract. In what wild chaos of waters the clam’rous rapids, as if from the horizon, rush down upon us—jumping, leaping, boiling, in fierce confusion; and this frail bridge, how it groans and shakes in the torrent’s sweep! A slip from Mahomet’s sword edge o’er the awful Hades, would not consign us to more inevitable destruction, than would a treacherous plank or rotten beam from this shaking platform. ”

“ The measured tread of disciplined troops became apparent. Every sense was stretched to the utmost in expectancy—every eye endeavoured to fathom the darkness in front, when, from Towson’s battery, that towards the river, glanced a [116] volley of musquetry, and in another instant, the whole line of the works, bastion, redoubt, and rampart, streamed forth one living sheet of flame. Two eighteens, mounted where we stand, were filled to the muzzle with grape, cannister, and bags of musket-bullets—imagine their havoc. The enemy came on with loud shouts and undaunted bravery. ”

“ Why dost shake thy pendant ears and gaze so keenly in the distance—and why that plaintive howl? Ay, ay, hunter, thy practised eye hath caught it. On yon wooded island to the windward—a noble buck with graceful form and branching antlers. He sees us not, but the dog’s quick senses have caught his scent upon the passing wind. Still, boy, still! Pilot, put her a little more under the island. Hunter, lend me thy rifle—launch the canoe. Come, hunter—peace—peace—keep the dogs on board; paddle for yonder point—now we shoot upon the pebbly beach—now make her fast to this dead log. ”

“ Shades of red-capped bucaneers!—fierce negro slavers!—spirits of the gallant men who fought the British on her shores!—desperate old Kidd in person!—we conjure you—we conjure you—arise and hover around us, whilst we chaunt the lay. Ho! Scipio!—the old ballad, as it stood smoke-blacked, and grimed upon thy cabin’s walls—ay! that is it—and in tones which chimed well in unison with the dreary storm and howling blast without. ”

“ You will advance up the hill to the storm of the battery—at the word ‘halt,’ you will deliver your fire at the port-lights of the artillerymen, and immediately carry the guns at the point of the bayonet.—Support arms—double quick—march!” Machinery could not have moved with more compactness than that gallant regiment followed the fearless stride of its leader. Supported by the Twenty-third, the dark mass moved up the hill like one body,—the lurid light glittering and flickering on their bayonets, as the combined fire of the enemy’s artillery and infantry opened murderously upon them. ”

“ But, on—on—how toilsome the ascent.—That was a fearful blast; hold tightly the wild roots in thy grasp as it passes. Long since have we passed the region of vegetation: the dry and arid moss clinging to rock and stone, is alone around us. Ay! drink of that spring—but beware its icy coldness—nor winter, nor summer, alters its temperature. Behold, in the clefts and gorges below, the never-melting snow-wreaths. The flaming suns of summer pass over, and leave them undiminished. Courage! we climb, we climb. The witches of the Brocken ne’er had such wild chaos for their orgies. Courage, my friend! ”

“ Oh! historian of Columbus, with thy fellow-spirit, him of the “North Star,” and the “Evening Wind,” gently, yet sorrowfully you float above the miasma clouds of gain, that in their poisonous wreaths envelope your countrymen. In the evening twilight [111] thy beacon, Stony Point, throws far its streaming rays o’er the darkening scenery, different, I ween, when mid midnight mist and stillness, mid cannon-blaze and roar, “Mad Anthony’s” attacking columns simultaneously struck the flag-staff in thy centre. ”

“ As we returned to our cottage home, the crescent moon was streaming in silvery brightness, the constellations and galaxy resplendent with “living fires,” and the far, far worlds rolling in immeasurable distance, as twinkling stars trembled upon our human vision. The dews of night were moist upon the grass, as we re-measured the lawn that led to the cottage; where, after planning our visit for the following morning to Mount Vernon, we soon were wrapped in contented and grateful repose. ”

“ We robe ourselves for the enterprise—tarpaulin coats—hats bound with old rope—trowsers of tow cloth—shoes of cowhide—ha! ha! But quick, descend the long spiral stair-case. Now, Guide—we follow. Beware you fall not on these sharp, slippery rocks. We approach. The Table Rock hangs over us. In grandeur the solid fluid mass falls precipitate. Prepare. Turn as you enter—hold down your head—repress your breath: are you ready? Rush! We are beneath the yawning chasm—soaked in an instant. Like furious rainstorm, and wind, and tempest all combined, this wild, frightful roar. ”

“ We tread the deep green woods of Goat Island, their mossy trunks covered with love-marks of Orlandos and Rosalinds; and, amid the roar, descend the great Ferry stair-case—stop a moment at this landing—step out. How the solid earth shakes—jars and vibrates! How the wild winds rush by us, as the huge fluid arch stretches over with continuous plunge—and see that group of wild-flowers—scarlet, green, and purple—smiling in beauty beyond the reach of human hand, glistening in moisture midst the very spray in the rock cleft. ”

“ But a short time could human fabric sustain the ceaseless plunge of the foaming elements. By the lightning flashes, we could see the number of the sufferers lessen, as relaxing their hold, they dropped off exhausted one by one—swept into the rocky caverns below; until, a longer interval of darkness—a more intense flash of lightning—and all had disappeared. Nought was left but the white foam as it rushed tumultuously boiling and coursing over the long reef before us. ”

“ I hear the sound of bugles—the clamorous roll of drums, the groaning jar and creak of heavy-wheeled artillery. Spread along the lines, covered with sharp abattis and water moat, I see the impatient Gaul, with savage ally in ambushment, await their coming—they advance with desperate [137] valour,—they ford the ditch, they hew the sharpened trees with axes. In vain—the balls like hail, from unseen foes murderously destroy them—their leader falls—hark! the bugle with melancholy wail sounds their retreat. ”