Adjoining to the orchard, was the most spacious barn I ever beheld, which I shall describe for the benefit of such of my readers as have never seen a building constructed on a plan so comprehensive. This barn, which, as will hereafter appear, answered many beneficial purposes, besides those usually allotted for such edifices, was of a vast size, at least an hundred feet long, and sixty wide. The roof rose to a very great height in the midst, and sloped down till it came within ten feet of the ground, when the walls commenced, which, like the whole of this vast fabric, were formed of wood. It was raised three feet from the ground, by beams resting on stone—and on these beams was laid, in the middle of the building, a very massive oak floor. Before the door was a large sill, sloping downwards, of the same materials. About twelve feet in breadth, on each side of this capacious building, were divided off for cattle; on one side ran a manger, at the above-mentioned distance from the wall, the whole length of the building, with a rack above it; on the others, were stalls for the other cattle, running also the whole length of the building. The cattle and horses stood with their hinder parts to the wall, and their heads projecting towards the threshing floor. There was a prodigious large box or open chest in one side built up, for holding the corn after it was threshed; and the roof, which was very lofty and spacious, was supported by large cross beams; from one to the other of these was stretched a great number of long poles, so as to form a sort of open loft, on which the whole rich crop was laid up. The floor of those parts of the barn, which answered the purposes of a stable and cow-house, was made of thick slab deals, laid loosely over the supporting beams; and the mode of cleaning those places, was by turning the boards, and permitting the dung and litter to fall into the receptacles left open below for the purpose; from thence, in spring, they were often driven down to the river—the soil, in its original state, not requiring the aid of manure. In the front^[3] of this vast edifice, there were prodigious folding doors, and two others that opened behind.

Certainly never did cheerful rural toils wear a more exhilarating aspect than while the domestics were lodging the luxuriant harvest in this capacious repository. When speaking of the doors, I should have mentioned that they were made in the gable ends; those in the back equally large, to correspond with those in the front; while on each side of the great doors were smaller ones, for the cattle and horses to enter. Whenever the corn or hay was reaped or cut, and ready for carrying home, which in that dry and warm climate, happened in a very few days, a waggon, loaded with hay, for instance, was driven into the midst of this great barn; loaded also with numberless large grasshoppers, butterflies, and cicadas, who came along with the hay. From the top of the waggon, this was immediately forked up into the loft of the barn, in the midst of which was an open space left for the purpose; and then the unloaded waggon drove, in rustic state, out of the great door at the other end. In the mean time, every member of the family witnessed or assisted in this summary process, by which the building and thatching of stacks was at once saved; and the whole crop and cattle were thus compendiously lodged under one roof.

The cheerfulness of this animated scene was much heightened by the quick appearance and vanishing of the swallows, who twittered among their high-built dwellings in the roof. Here, as in every other instance, the safety of these domestic friends was attended to, and an abode provided for them. In the front of this barn were many holes, like those of a pigeon-house, for the accommodation of the martin—that being the species to which this kind of home seemed most congenial; and, in the inside of the barn, I have counted above fourscore at once. In the winter, when the earth was buried deep in new-fallen snow, and no path fit for walking in was left, this barn was like a great gallery, well suited for that purpose, and furnished with pictures, not unpleasing to a simple and contented mind. As you walked through this long area, looking up, you beheld the abundance of the year treasured above you; on one side, the comely heads of your snorting steeds presented themselves, arranged in seemly order; on the other, your kine displayed their meeker visages; while the perspective, on either, was terminated by heifers and fillies, no less interesting. In the midst, your servants exercised the flail; and even, while they threshed out the straw, distributed it to the expectants on both sides; while the “liberal handful” was occasionally thrown to the many-coloured poultry on the hill. Winter itself, never made this abode of life and plenty cold or cheerless. Here you might walk and view all your subjects, and their means of support, at one glance, except, indeed, the sheep, for whom a large and commodious building was erected very near the barn; the roof of which was furnished with a loft, large enough to contain hay sufficient for their winter’s food.

Colonel Schuyler’s barn was by far the largest I have ever seen; but all of them, in that country, were constructed on the same plan, furnished with the same accommodation, and presented the same cheering aspect. The orchard, as I formerly mentioned, was on the south side of the barn; on the north, a little farther back towards the wood, which formed a dark screen behind this smiling scene, there was an inclosure, in which the remains of the deceased members of the family were deposited. A field of pretty large extent, adjoining to the house on that side, remained uncultivated and uninclosed; over it were scattered a few large apple-trees, of a peculiar kind, the fruit of which was never appropriated. This piece of level and productive land, so near the family mansion, and so adapted to various and useful purposes, was never made use of, but left open as a public benefit.

From the known liberality of this munificent family, all Indians or new settlers, on their journey, whether they came by land or water, rested here. The military, in passing, always formed a camp on this common, and here the Indian wigwams were often planted; here all manner of garden-stuff, fruit, and milk, were plentifully distributed to wanderers of all descriptions. Every summer, for many years, there was an encampment, either of regular or provincial troops, on this common; and often, when the troops proceeded northward, a little colony of helpless women and children, belonging to them, was left, in a great measure, dependent on the compassion of these worthy patriarchs; for such the brothers might be justly called.