The Ormsby family next visited the monument erected by the cadets in commemoration of the gallant Kosciusko, who crossed the Atlantic to take a part in the American contest for independence, and who afterward so nobly, but unsuccessfully, defended the rights of Poland, his own ill-fated country. The monument is a fluted column of white marble, on a broad pedestal, simply inscribed with the name of Kosciusko. It stands near the ruins of Fort Clinton, on the eastern side of the plain, and on one of the lofty and abrupt heights that overlook the river.
They then descended to Kosciusko's Garden, a picturesque retreat half way down the rocks. Here, while with our army at West Point, the Polish officer had been accustomed to spend a portion of his leisure hours; and he had embellished the wild and rugged spot by planting it with lilacs and rosebushes. The cadets, with the surplus of the money subscribed by them for the erection of Kosciusco's monument, have facilitated the descent to this romantic and interesting retreat, (which was before almost inaccessible to ladies,) by causing to be made a long flight of stone stairs, firm and convenient, but sufficiently rude to be in unison with the surrounding scenery. These stairs, winding down between the rocks, lead to a beautiful grassy platform, backed by a lofty precipice of granite, which the hand of nature has ornamented with wild flowers that creep along its ledges, and shrubs and saplings that grow out from its crevices. Under a willow which droops on the level beneath, is a fountain bubbling in a basin of white marble, sculptured with the name of Kosciusko, and surrounded with flowering shrubs similar to those planted by the hero of Poland.
On the northern side of this beautiful spot the rocks are broken into the most picturesque masses, and shaded with forest trees of infinite variety; their foliage at this time displaying the liveliest tints of spring. The wild grape-vine clasped its crooked and wandering branches round the mossy stones, and scented the air with its fragrant blossoms; and the woodland honeysuckle threw around the sweetest odours from its clustered flowers of the most delicate pink. In front a shelf of rock projected over the river, whose clear blue waters glided far below, reflecting in their calm mirror "the headlong mountains and the downward skies." On the opposite shore rose the highlands of Putnam county; and Gustavus explained to his aunt and cousins, that in the year 1779, all the heights nearest the water had been crowned with batteries and covered with tents, the American army being encamped on both sides of the river; and that on the eastern bank, a short distance below West Point, is the house occupied by the traitor Arnold, and from which he made his escape when apprised that Washington was informed of his correspondence with the British general.
Mrs. Ormsby cast her eyes down the precipice that impended over the water, and beautiful as it was, being tufted with shrubs and trees to the very bottom, she turned away her head, and said it made her dizzy to look at it. They then sat down on one of the benches, and Mrs. Ormsby spoke of the strange and unaccountable fancy, said to be felt by some people, who, whenever they venture to the verge of a height, imagine that they feel an irresistible desire to jump down. "Mother," said Frederick, advancing to the edge of the rock "I feel that desire at this moment. I shall certainly jump in an instant. I shall be down directly."
Mrs. Ormsby turned pale, and desired Frederick immediately to come away from the precipice. "My dear," said Mr. Ormsby, "do you not see the laugh lurking in Frederick's eye? He only intends to frighten us. Can you suppose he has really any idea of leaping from the rock? No, no—though he delights in terrifying others, I am well convinced that he will never do any thing to hurt himself."
Gustavus then told of a soldier's wife, who, a few years since, (being, as was supposed, in a state of temporary derangement,) wandered in the night to these rocks, and falling over the precipice, her mangled body was discovered next morning, lying almost in the river.
Our little party then returned to the fountain, and Gustavus being provided with a leather drinking-cup, they all tasted the water. They stood there conversing for a considerable time; and when they turned to go away, they found that Frederick was not with them. They looked all around, but he was not to be seen; and when they called him, there was no answer. "Where can he be?" exclaimed Mrs. Ormsby, in much alarm. "I fear he has really fallen down the rocks. You heard him say that he felt that unaccountable inclination we were talking of." "But," said Mr. Ormsby, "I did not believe him, and neither should you. We know Frederick too well."
His father and Gustavus called Frederick loudly, but no answer was returned, except by the mountain echoes. The terror of his mother and sister was extreme. "Frederick!" exclaimed Mr. Ormsby, "Frederick—you surely hear us,—reply immediately." "Oh! Frederick," cried the mother, "if you really hear us, answer at once—put an end to our fears—how can you keep us in such agony?" There was still no reply. "Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Ormsby, "if Frederick yet lives, can he allow me to remain in this dreadful state of fear and suspense? Frederick, Frederick—this moment answer your mother!"
Mr. Ormsby's persuasion of Frederick's safety now began to give way to alarm, and Madeline trembled and cried. Mrs. Ormsby sunk, nearly fainting, on the bench; and while her husband brought water from the fountain and endeavoured to revive her, Gustavus, who knew every recess of the rocks, explored them in search of Frederick. He shortly returned, and said in a low voice, "Compose yourself, dear aunt, I have just had a glimpse of Frederick. He is safe, and not near the precipice. He has concealed himself in a sort of cavity in yon rock near the stairs, though the space is so small that I wonder how he got into it. He must have coiled himself up with some difficulty." "Do not let us go thither to seek him," whispered Mr. Ormsby. "He shall not have the gratification of jumping up and laughing at us." Mrs. Ormsby and Madeline, finding that Frederick was really safe, endeavoured to calm their agitation; and Mr. Ormsby and Gustavus began to talk of other things.
After sitting a few minutes longer, "Come," said Mr. Ormsby, in a loud voice, "we will now return; and as Frederick's concealment will not produce so great an effect as he supposes, he may sneak out of his hole and follow us at his leisure."