A new property—Visionary plans.

My father went up in summer with a retinue of Indians and disbanded soldiers, &c. 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 provision. 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 inexhaustible supply of timber and firing, after the lands should be entirely cleared. This sylvan scene appeared, even in its wild state, to possess singular advantages; it was dry lying land, without the least particle of swamp; great part of it was covered with chesnuts, the sure indication of good wheat land, and the rest with white oak, the never-failing forerunner 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 over-flowing felicity was to derive from the neighbourhood of these sagacious builders, may not be easily conjectured. It was not their society, for they were much too wise to remain in our vicinity, 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 dwelling of these old settlers? Merely because their industry had saved us much trouble; for in the course of their labours, 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 labour we were thus to profit, were already extirpated, to my unspeakable sorrow, who had been creating a beaver 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 of the fifty-fifth, which I had been ever since lamenting. 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 neighbourhood very desirable to new settlers. They build houses and dams with unwearied 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 lo 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 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 instinct which prompts their nocturnal labours was apparent. When 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 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. That spot, rendered 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 every thing 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 anticipation; 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 in its most essential branches, such as giving patents for lands, &c. Sir Harry, in the meantime, had never thought of business in his life: he was honourable, 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 governor was merely to keep the governed in good humour, 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 experience like Colden, was fitter to transact the business of the province, than any dependent 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 peculiarly fitted for doing the honours of a drawing-room or entertainment. They were too fashionable, and too much hurried to find time for particular friendships, 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 arise, had its use. In the beginning, before the tempest broke loose in all its fury, it was like oil poured on agitated waters, which produces a temporary calm immediately round the ship. As yet the storm only muttered at a distance, but madame was disturbed by anxious presages. In her case,

But it was not new to her to prophecy in vain. I, for my part, was charmed with the manners of 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 fondness 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 favourite, but suffered much notwithstanding. Here began my acquaintance with sorrow. We went, however, to the Flats in autumn. Our family consisted 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 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,^[23] whose sound sense and intelligence made his society of consequence to her, 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 accustomed 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 employments 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 melancholy, and rendered less agreeable by some unpleasant neighbours 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 generous 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 them had long elapsed, but 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 measure. 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 it 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 labour 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 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 disbanded officers, and to the real patriots, who had consulted in former times the happiness of the country, by giving their zealous co-operation 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 distempered 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 neighbour, however, who saw us often, and was “every inch a gentleman;” this was Pedrom, aunt’s brother-in-law, in whom lived the spirit of the Schuylers, and who was our next neighbour 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, Courtlandt Schuyler, who had been a great Nimrod ever since he could carry a gun, and who was a man of strict honour and nice feelings, 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 Dianamat were almost superannuated, and had lost, in 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 rancour, 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 unwearied 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 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 favour 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 conversation 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 delighted 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 veneration 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.

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