My Native Land. James Cox
New York or Boston man who visits either of these cities speedily admits that he frequently finds it difficult to believe that he is not in his own much loved city, so close is the resemblance in many respects between the business houses and the method of doing business. Denver is looked upon by the average Easterner almost in the light of a frontier city, away out in the Rockies, surrounded by awe-inspiring scenery, no doubt, but also by grizzly bears and ferocious Indians. San Francisco is too far away to be thought very intelligently, but a great many people regard that home of wealth and elegance as another extreme Western die-in-your-boots, rough-and-tumble city.
This ignorance, for it is ignorance rather than prejudice, results from the mania for European travel, which was formerly a characteristic of the Atlantic States, but which of recent years has, like civilization, traveled West. The Eastern man who has made money is much more likely to take his family on a European tour than on a trip through his native country. He incurs more expense by crossing the Atlantic, and although he adds to his store of knowledge by traveling, he does not learn matter of equal importance to him as if he had crossed the American continent and enlightened himself as to the men and manners in its different sections and States.
Nor is this sectional ignorance confined, by any means, to the East. People in the West are apt to form an entirely erroneous impression of Eastern States. The word, "East," to them conveys an impression of dense population, overcrowding, and manufacturing activity. That there are thousands and thousands of acres of scenic grandeur, as well as farm lands, in some of the most crowded States, is not realized, and that this is the case will be news to many. Last year a party of Western people were traveling to New York, and, on their way, ran through Pennsylvania, around the picturesque Horse Shoe Curve in the Alleghenies, and along the banks of the romantic and historic Susquehanna. A member of the party was seen to be wrapped in thought for a long time. He was finally asked what was worrying him.
"I was thinking," was his reply, "how singular it is that the Republican party ran up a majority of something like a hundred thousand at the election, and I was wondering where all the folks came from who did the voting. I haven't seen a dozen houses in the last hour."
Our friend was only putting into expression the thought which was indulged in pretty generally by the entire crowd. Those who were making the transcontinental trip for the first time marveled at the expanse of open country, and the exquisite scenery through which they passed; and they were wondering how they ever came to think that the noise of the hammer and the smoke of the factory chimney were part and parcel of the East, where they knew the money, as well as the "wise men," came from. The object of this book being to present some of the prominent features of all sections of the United States, it is necessary to remove, as far as possible, this false impression; and in order to do so, we propose to give a brief description of the romantic and historic River Hudson. This river runs through the great State of New York, concerning which the greatest ignorance prevails. The State itself is dwarfed, in common estimation, by the magnitude of its metropolis, and if the Greater New York project is carried into execution, and the limits of New York City extended so as to take in Brooklyn and other adjoining cities, this feeling will be intensified, rather than otherwise.
But "above the Harlem," to use an expression so commonly used when a political contest is on, there are thousands of square miles of what may be called "country," including picturesque mountains, pine lands which are not susceptible of cultivation, and are preserved for recreation and pleasure purposes, and fertile valleys, divided up into homesteads and farms.
It is through country such as this that the River Hudson flows. It rises in the Adirondack Mountains, some 300 miles from the sea, and more than 4,000 feet above its level. It acts as a feeder and outlet for numerous larger and smaller lakes. At first it is a pretty little brook, almost dry in summer, but noisy and turbulent in the rainy seasons. From Schroon Lake, near Saratoga, it receives such a large quantity of water that it begins to put on airs. It ceases to be a country brook and becomes a small river. A little farther down, the bed of the river falls suddenly, producing falls of much beauty, which vary in intensity and volume with the seasons.
At Glens Falls the upper Hudson passes through a long defile, over a precipice some hundred feet long. It was here that Cooper received much of his inspiration, and one of the most startling incidents in his "The Last of the Mohicans" is supposed to have been enacted at the falls. When Troy is reached, the river takes upon itself quite another aspect, and runs with singular straightness almost direct to New York harbor. Tourists delight to sail up the Hudson, and they find an immense quantity of scenery of the most delightful character, with fresh discoveries at every trip. Millionaires regard the banks of the Hudson as the most suitable spots upon which to build country mansions and rural retreats. Many of these mansions are surrounded by exquisitely kept grounds and beautiful parterres, which are in themselves well worth a long journey to see.
Beacon Island, a few miles below Albany, is pointed out to the traveler as particularly interesting, because four counties corner upon the river just across from it. The island has a history of more than ordinary interest. It used to be presided over by a patroon, who levied toll on all passing vessels. Right in the neighborhood are original Dutch settlements, and the descendants of the original immigrants hold themselves quite aloof from the English-speaking public. They retain the language, as well as the manners and customs, of Holland, and the tourist who strays among them finds himself, for the moment, distinctly a stranger in a strange land. The country abounds with legends and romances, and is literally honeycombed with historic memories.
The town of Hudson, a little farther down the river, is interesting because it was near here that Henry Hudson landed in September, 1609. He was immediately surrounded by Indians, who gave him an immense amount of information, and added to his store of experiences quite a number of novel ones. Here is the mouth of the Catskill River, with the wonderful Catskill Mountains in the rear. It will be news, indeed, to many of our readers that in these wild (only partially explored) mountains there are forests where bears, wild cats and snakes abound in large numbers.
Many people of comparative affluence reside in the hills, where there are hotels and pleasure resorts of the most costly character. During the storms of winter these lovers of the picturesque find themselves snowed in for several days at the time, and have a little experience in the way of frontier and exploration life.
The sunrises in the Catskills are rendered uniquely beautiful by the peculiar formation of the ground, and from the same reason the thunder storms are often thrilling in character and awful in their magnificence. Waterfalls of all sizes and kinds, brooks, with scenery along the banks of every description, forests, meadows, and lofty peaks make monotony impossible, and give to the Catskill region an air of majesty which is not easy to describe on paper.
Every visitor asks to be shown the immortalized bridge at Sleepy Hollow, and as he gazes upon it he thinks of Washington Irving's unrivaled description of this country. He speedily agrees with Irving that every change of weather, and indeed every hour of the day, produces some change in the magical hues and shapes of these mountains, and they are regarded by all the good wives far and near as perfect barometers. When the weather is fair and settled they are clothed in blue and purple, and print their bold outlines on the clear evening sky, but, sometimes, when the rear of the landscape is clear and cloudless, they will gather a hood of gray vapors which, in the last rays of the setting sun, will grow up like a crown of glory.
Here it was that Rip Van Winkle is supposed to have lived and slept, and astonished his old friends and neighbors, and their descendants. The path along which Rip Van Winkle marched up the mountain, prior to his prolonged sleep, is shown to the tourist, who hears at his hotel, in the conveyance he hires for the day, and among the very mountains themselves, countless local legends as to Rip Van Winkle, and as to the percentage of fact and fiction in Washington Irving's masterly production.
If he is antiquarian enough to desire it, he can be shown the very spot upon which Rip Van Winkle laid himself down to sleep. Local opinion differs as to the exact spot, but there is so much faith displayed by the people that no one can doubt that they are genuine in their beliefs and sincere in their convictions. The tourist can also be shown the site of the old country inn, upon the bench in front of which Rip Van Winkle sat and astonished the natives by his extraordinary conversation,