We descended the hills, and proceeded to the site of Fort Montgomery, a rough promontory on the north side of Peploap's, or Poplopen's, Kill. * It terminates in a steep cliff at the mouth of the stream, and was an admirable situation for a strong fortress to command the river. Almost the entire line of the fortifications may be traced upon the brow of the cliff, which is rocky, and bare of every thing but stinted grass and dwarf cedars. More than half way down to the water's edge are the remains of the two-gun-battery which was placed there to cover the chain and chevaux de frise which were stretched across the river from the upper side of Poplopen's Kill to Anthony's Nose.
We crossed to the southern side of the stream, and clambered up a winding and romantic pathway among cedars, chestnuts, and sassafras, to the high table land whereon stood Fort Clinton, within rifle shot of Fort Montgomery. A fine mansion, belonging to Mrs. Pell, with cultivated grounds around it, occupy the area within the ravelins of the old fort. The banks of the fortress have been leveled, its fossé filled up, and not a vestige of it remains. About a quarter of a mile west of Mrs. Pell's is Lake Sinnipink, a small sheet of crystal water, surrounded by the primitive forest, and as wild in its accompaniments as when the Indian cast his bait in its deep waters.
From its western rim rises the highest peak of Bear Mountain to an altitude of more than a thousand feet. The lake itself is one hundred and twenty-three feet above the river.
Near the north end of Lake Sinnipink, on the river slope of the hills, stands the cottage of the aged Beverly Garrison, a hale old man of eighty-seven years. He was a stout lad of fourteen when the forts were taken. His father, who worked a great deal for Beverly Robinson, and admired him, named this boy in honor of that gentleman. When the British approached the