river. They had been stripped of their clothing, and the body of Miss M'Crea was wounded in nine places, either by a scalping knife or a tomahawk. A messenger was despatched to convey the afflicting intelligence to her brother, who arrived soon afterward, took charge of his sister's remains, and had them interred on the east side of the river about three miles below the fort. The body of Lieut. Van Vechten was buried at the same time, and on

the same spot.

History has preserved no facts by which we can at this day ascertain the reason why Miss M'Crea should remain as she did in so exposed and unprotected a situation. She had been reminded of her danger by the people at the fort. Tradition relates, however, and with seeming truth, that through some medium of communication she had promised her lover, probably by his advice, to remain in this place, until the approach of the British troops should afford an opportunity to join him, in company with her hostess and friend. It is said, that, when they saw the Indians coming to the house, they were at first frightened, and attempted to escape; but, as the Indians made signs of pacific intention, and one of them held up a letter intimating that it was to be opened, their fears were calmed and the letter was read. It was from Jones, and contained a request that they would put them.

selves under the charge of the Indians, whom he had sent for the purpose, and who would guard them in safety to the British camp. Unfortunately, two separate parties of Indians, or, at least, two chiefs acting independently of each other, had united in this enterprise, combining with it an attack of the picket guard. It is incredible that Jones should have known this part of the arrangement, or he would have foreseen the danger it threatened. When the prize was at their hands, the two chiefs quarrelled about the mode of dividing the rewards they were to receive; and, according to the Indian rule of settling disputes in the case of captives, one of them, in a wild fit of passion, killed the victim and secured the scalp. Nor is it the least shocking feature of the transaction, that the savage seemed not aware of his mission. Uninformed as to the motive of his employer for obtaining the person of the lady, or not comprehending it, he regarded her in the light of a prisoner, and supposed the scalp would be an acceptable trophy. Let it be imagined what were the feelings of the anxious lover, waiting with joyful anticipation the arrival of his intended bride, when this appalling proof of her death was presented to him. The innocent had suffered by the hand of cruelty and violence, which he had unconsciously armed; his most fondly cherished hopes were blasted, and a sting was planted in his soul,

which time and forgetfulness never could eradicate. His spirit was scathed and his heart broken. He lived but a few years, a prey to his own sad recollections, and sunk into the grave under the burden of his grief.

The remembrance of this melancholy tale is still cherished with a lively sympathy, by the people who dwell near the scene of its principal incidents, -The inhabitants of the village of Fort Edward, have lately removed the remains of Miss M'Crea from their obscure resting place, and deposited them in the public burial-ground. The ceremony was solemn and impressive. A procession of young men and maidens followed the relics, and wept in silence when the earth was again closed over them; thus exhibiting an honourable proof of sensibility and of respect for the dead. The little fountain still pours out its clear waters near the brow of the hill, and the venerable pine is yet standing in its ancient majesty, broken at the top and shorn of its branches by the winds and storms of half a century, but revered as marking the spot where youth and innocence were sacrificed in the tragical death of Jane M'Crea.*

* Sparks Life of Gen. Arnold.

LETTER XII.

Master Lipsey's Boat-Revolutionary Incident-The Boat Club-The passing of a Steamboat-Cold Spring-Col. George P. Morris's Mansion-Scenery-Old Cro'-NestMagnificent Site-Description of Col. Morris's HouseThe Gardener of an English Earl-Mischief of Ignorance -Our Lady of Cold Spring-Lines for Music, etc.

New York, 1835.

DEAR P.-In one of my excursions last summer upon the Hudson, I stopped at West-Point, but must now postpone a description of that place, as I immediately took possession of Master Lipsey's (the Charon of these parts) boat-a personage and a craft well known to all the sojourners at WestPoint, and in which many a gay party from the south, and, in fact, from all quarters of the world, has sailed in the shadow of old Cra'-Nest, and danced over the glad waters of the green and glassy Hudson. In passing through the gorge, across which in the revolutionary war a chain was stretched to prevent the incursions of the British light vessels of war, and where reposes the rock hurled from its bold and threatening eminence by the giant arm of old Putnam himself, we encountered one of the airiest pleasure boats I have recently seen. It was manned by a crew in uniform white jackets,

and was, altogether, a neat and tasty affair. It is called the Auriel, and belongs to a club composed of the professors and officers of West Point, and the gentlemen of the vicinity. The exercise is conducive not only to the health of the members, but to the cultivation of good fellowship, and a generous and cordial hospitality. The river was alive with vessels of every description, and it was no easy matter to wind our way among the small-craft and sloops, beating and tacking under what is nautically termed a "cracking breeze." I counted more than sixty of these trim river craft between WestPoint and Newburgh, in a distance of eight miles. The passing of the steamboats is an amusing scene, and the landing always creates a sensation among the "natives" and visiters. So many arrivals and departures constantly taking place, meetings of friends, and salutations from the passengers to those they recognise on the wharf, and the bustle of the porters, render it one of the liveliest incidents of the day. We crossed the wake of the North America, which is one of the most agreeable operations in the world to a person of steady nerves, but not so amusing to those who do not affect the chance, or, at all events, the apprehension of a capsize, inasmuch as the undulating motion occasioned by these large vessels, in the narrow pass of the Highlands, is mighty uncomfortable, and seems