satisfied with providing these singular asylums for their feathered friends, the negroes never fail to make a small round hole in the crown of every old hat they can lay their hands on, and nail it to the end of the kitchen, for the same purpose. You often see in such a one, at once, thirty or forty of these odd little domicils, with the inhabitants busily going out and in.

Besides all these salutary provisions for the domestic comfort of the birds, there was, in clearing the way for their first establishment, a tree always left in the middle of the backyard, for their sole emolument: this tree being purposely pollarded at midsummer, when all the branches were full of sap. Wherever there had been a branch, the decay of the inside produced a hole; and every hole was the habitation of a bird. These were of various kinds; some had a pleasing note, but, on the whole, their songsters are far inferior to ours. I rather dwell on these minutiæ, as they not only mark the peculiarities of the country, but convey very truly the image of a people not too refined for happiness, which, in the process of elegant luxury, is apt to die of disgust.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Description of Colonel Schuyler's Barn, the Common, and its various uses

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 a 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.

A

breadth of about twelve feet on each side of this capacious building was 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 other 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 towards the thrashing floor. There was a prodigious large box or open chest in one side, built up for holding the corn after it was thrashed; 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; 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* 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 wagon 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 wagon, 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 wagon drove, in rustic

By the front is meant the gable end, which contains the entrance.

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, which 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 seems 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 thrashed out the straw, distributed it to the expectants on both sides; while the "liberal handful" was occasionally thrown to the many-colored poultry on the sill. Winter itself never made this abode of life and plenty cold and cheerless. Here you

might walk and view all your subjects, and their means of support, at one glance; except, indeed, the sheep, for which a large and commodious building was erected very near the barn; the roof containing a loft large enough to hold 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 prospect, there was an enclosure, 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 unenclosed; over it were scattered a few large appletrees 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 occupied, 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 gardenstuff, 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.

CHAPTER XIX.

Military Preparations.-Disinterested conduct, the surest road to Popularity.-Fidelity of the Mohawks.

THE first year of the colonel's marriage was spent chiefly in New York, and in visits to the friends of his bride, and other relations. The following years they passed at home, surrounded daily by his brothers, with their families, and other relatives, with whom they maintained the most affectionate intercourse. The colonel, however, (as I have called him by anticipation,) had his mind engaged at this time, by public duties of the most urgent nature. He was a member of the colonial assembly; and, by a kind of hereditary right,

was obliged to support that character of patriotism, courage, and public wisdom, which had so eminently distinguished his father. The father of Mrs. Schuyler, too, had been long mayor of Albany, at that time an office of great importance; as including, within itself, the entire civil power exercised over the whole settlement as well as the town, and having a sort of patriarchal authority attached to it; for these people, though little acquainted with coercion, and by no means inclined to submit to it, had a profound reverence, as is generally the case in the infancy of society, for the families of their first leaders; whom they had looked up to merely as knowing them to possess superior worth, talent, and enterprise. In a society, as yet uncorrupted, the value of this rich inheritance can only be diminished by degradation of character in the representative of a family thus self-ennobled; especially if he be disinterested; this, though apparently a negative quality, being the one of all others which, combined with the higher powers of mind, most engages affection in private, and esteem in public life. This is a shield that blunts the shafts which envy never fails to level at the prosperous, even in old establishments; where, from the very nature of things, a thousand obstructions rise in the upward path of merit; and a thousand temptations appear to mislead it from its direct road; and where the rays of opinion are refracted by so many prejudices of contending interests and factions. Still, if any charm can be found to fix that fleeting phantom popularity, this is it. It would be very honorable to human nature, if this could be attributed to the pure love of virtue; but, alas! multitudes are not made up of the wise, or of the virtuous. Yet the very selfishness of our nature inclines us to love and trust those who are not likely to desire any benefit from us, in return for those they confer. Other vices may be, if not social, in some degree gregarious; but even the avaricious hate avarice in all but themselves.

Thus, inheriting unstained integrity, unbounded popularity, a cool determined spirit, and ample possessions, no man had fairer pretensions to unlimited sway, in the sphere in which he moved, than the colonel; but of this no man could be less desirous. He was too wise, and too happy to solicit authority; and yet too public-spirited and too generous to decline