At that moment the general threw up a window, and, as if speaking to numbers, called out, in a loud voice, "Come on, my brave fellows, surround the house and secure the villains, who are plundering." The assailants made a precipitate retreat, carrying with them the three guards that were in the house, and a large quantity of silver plate. They made their way to Ballstown by daybreak, where they took General Gordon a prisoner from his bed, and with their booty returned to Canada. * The bursting open of the doors of General Schuyler's house aroused the sleeping guards in the cellar, who rushed up to the back hall, where they had left their arms, but they were gone. Mrs. Church, ** another daughter of General Schuyler, who was there at the time, without the slightest suspicion that they might be wanted, caused the arms to be removed a short time before the attack, on account of apprehended injury to her little son, whom she found playing with them. The guards had no other weapon but their brawny fists, and these they used manfully until overpowered. They were taken to Canada, and when they were exchanged, the general gave them each a farm, in Saratoga county. Their names were John Tubbs, John Corlies, and John "Ward.
Mrs. Cochran was the infant rescued by her intrepid sister. The incident is one of deep interest, and shows the state of constant alarm and danger in which the people lived at that day, particularly those whose position made them conspicuous. Mrs. Cochran kindly complied with my solicitation for a likeness of herself to accompany the narrative here given.
* Major Cochran related to me an incident connected with the booty in question. Among the plundered articles was a silver soup tureen. He was at Washington city at the time of the inauguration of Harrison, in 1841, and while in the rotunda of the Capitol, viewing Trumbull's picture of the surrender of Bur-goyne, a stranger at his elbow inquired, "Who is that fine-looking man in the group, in citizen's dress?" "General Schuyler," replied Major Cochran. "General Schuyler!" repeated the stranger. "Why, I ate soup not long since, at Belleville, in Canada, from a tureen that was carried off from his house by some Tories in the Revolution." This was the first and only trace the family ever had of the plundered articles.
** She was the wife of John B. Church, Esq., an English gentleman, who was a contractor for the French army in America under Rochambeau. He returned to England, and was afterward a member of Parliament.
Departure from Oswego.—The Genesee River.—Storm on the Lake.— Sea-sickness.—Fort Niagara.
It was my intention to go directly from Oswego to Rome, by the plank road that traverses the old war-paths of the last century between those points, for the region westward is quite barren of incident connected with the Revolution. Old Fort Niagara, at the mouth of the Niagara River, was a place of rendezvous for Tories and Indians while preparing for marauding excursions on the borders of civilization in New York, or when they returned with prisoners and scalps. Beyond this it offered no attractions, for hardly a remnant of its former material is left. But having been joined at Oswego by another member of my family, who, with my traveling companion, was anxious to see the great cataract, and desirous myself to look again upon that wonder of the New World, I changed my course, and on a August 17, 1848 stormy morning, with a strong north wind awakening the billows of Ontario, we left Oswego for Lewiston in the steamer Cataract, commanded by the same excellent Van Cleve whose vessel got a little entangled, ten years before, in the affair at Wind-mill Point, near Ogdensburgh. The lake was very rough, and nearly all on board turned their thoughts inwardly, conversing but little until we entered the Genesee River in the afternoon. Many lost the breakfast they had paid for, and others, by commendable abstinence and economy, saved the price of dinner by shunning it altogether.
The scenery upon the tortuous course of the Genesee is very picturesque. The stream is deep and narrow, and its precipitous shores are heavily wooded. The voyage terminated three fourths of a mile below the Lower Falls of the Genesee, and five miles from Ontario. Here is the port of Rochester. The city lies upon the plains at the Pipper Falls, two miles distant. Our boat remained there until toward evening, and, the rain having abated, I strolled up the winding carriage-way as far as the Lower Falls. This road is cut in the precipitous bank of the river, presenting overhanging cliffs, high and rugged, on one side, and on the other steep precipices going down more than a hundred feet below to the sluggish bed of the stream. Every thing about the falls is broken and confused. The stream, the rocks, the hills, and trees are all commingled in chaotic grandeur, varying in lineament at each step, and defying every attempt to detect a feature of regularity. There sandstone may be seen in every stage of formation, from the loose soil to shale, and slate-like lamina, and the solid stratified rock. The painter and the geologist are well rewarded for a visit to the Lower Falls of the Genesee.
We descended the river toward evening. Heavy clouds were rolling over the lake; and the white caps that sparkled upon its bosom, and the spray that dashed furiously over the unfinished stone pier at the mouth of the river, betokened a night of tempest and gloom. The wind had increased almost to a gale upon the lake while we had been quietly lying in the sheltering arms of the Genesee. Premonitions of sea-sickness alarmed my prudence, and by its wise direction I slipped into my berth before eight o'clock, and slept soundly until aroused by the porter's bell, a little before daybreak, at Lewiston Landing. The rain continued, though falling gently. We groped our way up the slippery road to the cars, and, shivering in the damp air, took seats for Niagara, fully resolved to give the bland invitation of the "lake route" a contemptuous refusal on our return eastward. It may be very pleasant on a calm day or a moonlight night, but our experience made us all averse to the aquatic journey.