ONE OF THE MANY SUFFERINGS OF GENERAL SCHUYLER, OF WEST TROY.
The General was some seventy years of age; a man of wealth; lived an unmarried life; to all appearance a man of bad habits. I think his sins had found him out. He was kept by his respected friends for a long time, at length his guardian paid $10 per week for his board in the Troy Asylum. He died one night in an adjoining room to mine before I left.
I saw him bound at bed-time one night with the accursed harness, and lashed to the bed, his feet being drawn to the foot round and made fast; and as the door was soon to be locked, he exclaims: "Mr. Anderson! Mr. Anderson! how long are you going to keep me here?" "All night," says Anderson. "Water! water!" "Can't have any," says Anderson; and locks the door, and leaves the General in bonds.