such a share of taste, as is consistent with the austerities of their sect. Their orchards are beautiful, and probably no part of our country presents finer examples of agricultural excellence. They are said to possess nearly three thousand acres of land, in this vicinity. Such neatness and order I have not seen any where, on so large a scale, except in Holland, where the very necessities of existence impose order and neatness upon the whole population; but here it is voluntary.

Besides agriculture, it is well known, that the Shakers occupy themselves much, with mechanical employments. The productions of their industry and skill, sieves, brushes, boxes, pails and other domestic utensils are every where exposed for sale, and are distinguished by excellence of workmanship. Their garden seeds are celebrated for goodness, and find a ready market. They have many gardens, but there is a principal one of several acres which I am told exhibits superior cultivation.

Their females are employed in domestic manufactures and house work, and the community is fed and clothed by its own productions.

The property is all in common. The avails of the general industry are poured into the treasury of the whole; individual wants are supplied from a common magazine, or store house, which is kept for each family, and ultimately, the elders invest the gains in land and buildings, or sometimes in money, or other personal property, which is held for the good of the society.

It seems somewhat paradoxical to speak of a family, where the relation upon which it is founded is unknown. But still, the Shakers are assembled in what they call tamilies, which consist of little collections, (more or less numerous according to the size of the house) of males and females, who occupy separate apartments, under the same roof, eat at separate tables, but mix occasionally for society, labour, or worship. There is a male and a female head to the family, who superintend all their concerns-give out their provisions-allot their employments, and enforce industry and fidelity.

The numbers in this village, as we were informed by one of the male members, are about five hundred, but there are said to be fifteen hundred, including other villages in this vicinity. Their numbers are sustained by voluntary additions, and by proselyting. Poor and ignorant people, in the vicinity, and on the neighbouring mountains in particular, are allured, it is said, by kindness, and presents, to join the society; and destitute widows, frequently come in, with their children, and unite themselves to this community. Where a comfortable subsistence for life, a refuge

for old age, and for infancy and childhood, the reputation (at least with the order) of piety, and the promise of heaven are held out to view, it is no wonder that the ignorant, the poor, the bereaved, the deserted, the unhappy, the superstitions, the cynical and even the whimsical, should occasion. ally swell the numbers of the Shakers.

Their house of public worship is paint ed white, and is a neat building, which in its external appearance, would not be disreputable to any sect.

Their worship, which I did not have an opportunity of seeing, is said to be less extravagant than formerly; their dancing is still practised, but with more moderation, and for a good many years, they have ceased to dance naked, which was formerly practised, and even with persons of different sexes. Their elders exercise a very great influence over the minds of the young people. The latter believe (as I was assured by a respectable inhabitant of New-Lebanon, but not a Shaker) that the former hold a direct and personal in tercourse with Christ and the Apostles, and that the elders possess the power of inspecting their very thoughts, and their most secret actions. Perhaps this will ac count for the reputed purity of the Sha kers, for whatever may be imagined, it does not appear that any scandalous of fences do now occur among them, or, at least, that they are brought to light, and it must be allowed that if they were frequent they could not be concealed.

They profess, it is said, to believe, that Christ has already appeared the sec ond time on the earth, in the person of their great leader, mother Ann Lee, and that the saints are now judging the world

They have no literature among them, nor do we hear that they are ever joined by people of enlightened minds. We met a party of children apparently coming from school, and I enquired of a Shaker, a middle aged man of respectable appear ance, whether the children belonged to the Society; he answered in the affirmstive; but," I replied, "how is that, since you do not have children of your own? Are these children the offspring of parents who after becoming such, have joined your society, and brought their children with them?" "Yea," was the answer, with a very drawling and prolonged utterance, and at the same time, there was a slight faultering of the muscles of his face, as if he were a little disposed to smile. The children were dressed in a plain costume as the whole society are.

This singular people took their rise in England, nearly half a century ago, and the settlement at New-Lebanon, is of more than forty years standing.

They first emigrated to America in the year 1774, under their spiritual moth er, Ann Lee, a niece of the celebrated

General Charles Lee, who made a distinguished figure during the American revolutionary war.

The order, neatness, comfort and thrift, which are conspicuous among them, are readily accounted for, by their industry, economy, self-denial and devotion to their leaders, and to the common interest, all of which are religious duties among them, and, the very fact that they are, for the most part, not burdened with the care of children, leaves them greatly at liberty, to follow their occupations without interuption.-pp. 41-46.

From New-Lebanon, Mr. S. confinued his tour through Albany, and proceeding in his route, soon arrived at the battle ground of Gates and Burgoyne. Without giving a deailed account of the campaign, he as sketched some of the most intersting particulars respecting it. He loes not, in view of the success of his ountrymen, or of the defeat of a galant general, indulge in the exultation and the rhapsody with which this, and the other events of the revolution, re sometimes described. His spirit ndeed triumphs at the success of his ountry and of freedom, and with the and of a master, he has sketched cenes affecting to behold, and impossible to forget.

SWORDS' HOUSE AT STILLWATER-Ten 'clock at night.-We are now on memorable ground. Here much precious blood was shed, and now, in the silence and solitude of a very dark and rainy night-the family asleep, and nothing heard but the rain and the Hudson, gently murmuring along, I am writing in the very house; and my table stands, on the very spot in the room where General Frazer breathed his last, on the eighth of October, 1777.

He was mortally wounded in the last of the two desperate battles fought on the neighbouring heights, and, in the midst of the conflict, was brought to this house by the soldiers. Before me lies one of the bullets, shot on that occasion; they are often found, in ploughing the battle field.

Blood is asserted, by the people of the house, to have been visible here, on the door, till a very recent period.

General Frazer was high in command, in the British army, and was almost idolized by them: they had the utmost confidence in his skill and valour, and that the Americans entertained a similar opinion of him, is sufficiently evinced, by the following anecdote, related to me at Ballstou Springs, in 1797, by the Hon. Rich

ard Brent, then a member of Congress, from Virginia, who derived the fact from General Morgan's own mouth.

In the battle of October the seventh, the last pitched battle, that was fought between the two armies, General Frazer, mounted on an iron grey horse, was very conspicuous. He was all activity, courage, and vigilance, riding from one part of his division to another, and animating the troops by his example. Wherever he was present, every thing prospered, and when confusion appeared in any part of the line, order and energy were restored by his arrival.

Colonel Morgan, with his Virginia rizer's division of the army. flemen, was immediately opposed to Fra

It had been concerted, before the commencement of the battle, that while the New-Hampshire and the New-York troops, attacked the British left, Colonel Morgan with his regiment of Virginia riflemen, should make a circuit so as to come upon the British right, and attack them there. In this attempt, he was fa voured by a woody hill, to the foot of which the British right extended. When the attack commenced on the British left, "true to his purpose, Morgan, at this critfrom the hill, and attacked the right of the ical moment, poured down, like a torrent enemy in front and flank." The right wing soon made a movement to support the left, which was assailed with increased violence, and while executing this movement, General Frazer received his mortal wound.

In the midst of this sanguinary battle, Colonel Morgan took a few of his best riflemen aside; men in whose fidelity, and fatal precision of aim, he could repose the most perfect confidence, and said to them: "that gallant officer is General Frazer; I admire and respect him, but it is necessary that he should die-take your stations in that wood, and do your duty." Within a few moments General Frazer fell, mortally wounded.

How far, such personal designation is justifiable, has often been questioned, but those who vindicate war at all, contend, that to shoot a distinguished officer, and thus to accelerate the conclusion of a bloody battle, operates to save lives, and that it is, morally, no worse, to kill an illustrious, than an obscure individual; a FRAZER, than a common soldier; a NELSON, than a common sailor. But there is something very revolting to humane feelings, in a mode of warfare, which converts its ordinary chances into a species of military execution. Such instances, were however, frequent, during the campaigu of General Burgoyne; and his aid, Sir Francis Clark, and many other British of ficers, were victims of American marksmanship.

The Baroness Reidesel, the lady of Ma

jor General the Baron Reidesel, in some very interesting letters of hers, published at Berlin, in 1800, and in part republished in translation, in Wilkinson's memoirs, states that she, with her three little children, (for she had with this tender charge, followed the fortunes of her husband, across the Atlantic, and through the horrors of the campaign) occupied this house, which was the only refuge, within protection of the British army. The rooms which it contained remain, to this day, as they then were, although some other rooms have been since added.

The house stood at that time, perhaps one hundred yards from the river, at the foot of the bill; it was afterwards removed to the road side, close by the river, where it now stands.

The Baroness, with her little children, occupied the room, in which we took tea, and General Frazer, when brought in wounded, was laid in the other room. In fact, as it was the only shelter that remained standing, it was soon converted into a hospital, and many other wounded and dying officers were brought to this melancholy refuge.

Thus a refined and delicate lady, educated in all the elegance of affluence and of elevated rank, with her little children, was compelled to witness the agonies of bleeding and dying men, among whom, some of her husband's and of her own particular friends, expired before her eyes. She imparted to them of her few remaining comforts and soothed them by offices of kindness. This distinguished lady was not without female companions, who shared her distresses, or felt with keenness their own misfortunes. Among them was lady Harriet Ackland, the wife of Major Ackland, who commanded the British grenadiers. Every thing that has been said of the Baroness Reidesel, will apply to her. News came, from time to time, from the heights, that one officer and another was killed, and among the rest that Major Ackland was desperately wounded, and a prisoner with the enemy.

diers;' of course I knew him to be Major Ackland, who had been brought from the field to this place, on the back of a Captain Shrimpton, of his own corps, under a heavy fire, and was deposited here, to save the lives of both.'

"I dismounted took him by the band and expressed hopes that he was not badly wounded; not badly,' replied this gallant officer and accomplished gentleman, but very inconveniently, I am shot through both legs; will you, Sir, have the goodness to have me conveyed to your camp? I directed my servant to alight, and we lifted Ackland into his (the ser vant's) seat, and ordered him to be conducted to head quarters."

Two other ladies, who were in the same house with madam Reidesel, receiv ed news, the one, that her busband was wounded, and the other, that hers was slain; and the Baroness herself, expected every moment to bear of similar tidings, for the Baron's duties, as commander in chief, of the German troops, required him to be frequently exposed to the most im minent perils.

The Baroness Reidesel, gives, in her narrative, the following recital, respect ing General Frazer's death: 'severe trials, awaited us, and on the 7th of October our misfortunes began; I was at breakfast, with my husband, and heard that something was intended. On the same day, I expected the Generals Burgoyne, Philips and Frazer, to dine with us. I saw a great movement among the troops; my husband told me, it was a mere reconnoissance, which gave me no concern, as it often happened. I walked out of the house, and met several indians, in their war dresses, with guns in their hands.-When I asked them where they were go ing, they cried out War! War! (meaning that they were going to battle.) This filled me with apprehensions, and I had scarcely got home, before I heard reports of cannon and musketry, which grew louder by degrees, till at last, the noise be came excessive. About 4 o'clock in the afternoon, instead of the guests, whom I expected, General Frazer was brought on a litter, mortally wounded. The table, which was already set, was instantly removed, and a bed placed in its stead, for the wounded General. I sat trembling in a coruer, the noise grew louder, and the alarm increased: the thought that my husband might, perhaps, be brought in. wounded in the same manner, was terri

General Frazer said to the surgeon, 'tell me if my wound is mortal, do not flatter me.' The ball had passed through his body, and unhappily for the General, he had eaten a very hearty breakfast, by which the stomach was distended, and the ball, as the surgeon said, had passed through it. I heard him often exclaim,

with a sigh, O, FATAL AMBITION! POOR GENERAL BURGOYNE! O, MY POOR WIFE He was asked if he had any request to make, to which he replied, that 'IF GENERAL BURGOYNE WOULD PERMIT IT, HE SHOULD LIKE TO BE BURIED AT 6 O'CLOCK IN THE EVENING, ON THE TOP OF A MOUNT

AIN IN A REDOUBT WHICH HAD BEEN

BUILT THERE. Towards evening, I saw my husband coming; then I forgot all my sorrows, and thanked God that he was spared to me.'

The German Baronness spent much of the night in comforting lady Harriet Ackland, and in taking care of her children, whom she had put to bed. Of herself she says I could not go to sleep, as I had General Frazer and all the other wounded gentlemen in my room, and I was sadly afraid my children would awake, and by their crying, disturb the dying man, in his last moments, who often addressed me, and apologized for the trouble he gave me.' About three o'clock in the morning, I was fold, he could not hold out much longer; I had desired to be informed of the near approach of this sad crisis, and I then wrapped up my children in their clothes, and went with them into the room below. About eight o'clock in the morning, he died. After he was laid out, and his corpse wrapped up in a sheet, we came again into the room, and we had this sorrowful sight before us the whole day; and, to add to the melancholy scene, almost every moment some officer of my acquaintance was brought in wounded.'

What a situation for delicate females -a small house, filled with bleeding and expiring men--the battle roaring and raging all around-little children to be soothed and protected, and female domestics, in despair, to be comforted-cordials and aids, such as were attainable, to be administered to the wounded and dying-ruin impending over the army, and they knew not what insults, worse than death, might await themselves, from those whom they had been taught to consider as base, as well as cowardly.

Both these illustrious females learned, not long after, a different lesson. I have already remarked, that Major Ackland was wounded and taken prisoner. His lady, with heroic courage, and exemplary conjugal tenderness, passed down the river, to our army, with a letter from General Burgoyne, to General Gates, and although somewhat detained on the river, because it was night when she arrived, and the centinel could not permit her to land, till he bad received orders from his superior, she was, as soon as her case was made known, received by the Americans, with the utmost respect, kindness, and delicacy Her husband, many years after the war, even lost his life, in a duel, which he fought with an officer, who called the Americans cowards. Ackland espoused

Vol. 2-No. VIII. 53

their cause, and vindicated it in this unhappy manner.-pp. 87-96.

THE BATTLE GROUND.-The rain having ceased, I was on horseback at early dawn, with a veteran guide to conduct me to the battle ground. Although he was Seventy-five years old, he did not detain me a moment; in consequence of an appointment the evening before, he was waiting my arrival at his house, a mile below our inn, and, declining any aid, he mounted a tall horse, from the ground. His name was Ezra Buel, a native of Lebanon, in Connecticut, which place he left in his youth, and was settled here, at the time of General Burgoyne's invasion. He acted, through the whole time, as a guide to the American army, and was one of three, who were constantly employed in that service. His duty led him to be always foremost, and in the post of danger; and he was, therefore, admirably qualified for my purpose.

The two great battles, which decided the fate of Burgoyne's army, were fought, the first on the 19th of September, and the last, on the 7th of October, on Bemus' heights, and very nearly on the same ground, which is about two miles west of the river.

The river is, in this region, bordered for many miles, by a continued meadow, of no great breadth; upon this meadow, there was then, as there is now, a good road, close to the river, and parallel to it. Upon this road, marched the heavy artillery and baggage, constituting the left wing of the British army, while the advanced corps of the light troops, forming the right wing, kept on the heights which bound the meadows.

The American army was south and west of the British, its right wing on the river, and its left resting on the heights.— We passed over a part of their camp, a little below Stillwater.

A great part of the battle ground was occupied by lofty forest trees, principally pine, with here and there a few cleared fields, of which the most conspicuous in these sanguinary scenes, was called Freeman's farm, and is so called in General Burgoyne's plans. Such is nearly the present situation of these heights, only there is more cleared land; the gigantic trees have been principally felled, but a considerable number remain, as witnesses to posterity; they still shew the wounds, made in their trunks and branches, by the missiles of contending armies; their roots still penetrate the soil, that was made fruitful by the blood of the brave, and their sombre foliage still murmurs, with the breeze, which once sighed, as it bore the departing spirits along.

My veteran guide, warmed by my curiosity, and recalling the feelings of his prime, led me, with amazing rapidity and promptitude, over fences and ditches

through water and mire-through ravines and defiles--through thick forests and open fields-and up and down very steep hills; in short, through many places, where, alone, I would not have ventured; but, it would have been shameful for me not to follow, where a man of seventyfive would lead, and to reluctate at going, in peace, over the ground, which the defenders of their country, and their foes, once trod, in steps of blood.

On our way to Freeman's farm, we traced the line of the British encampment, still marked by a breast work of logs, now rotten, but retaining their forms; they were, at the time, covered with earth, and the barrier between contending armies is now a fence, to mark the peaceful divisions of agriculture. This breast work, I suppose to be a part of the line of encampment, occupied by General Burgoyne af ter the battle of the 19th of September, and which was stormed on the evening of the 7th of October.

The old man shewed me the exact spot, where an accidental skirmish, between advanced parties, of the two armies soon brought on the general and bloody battle of September 19

This was on Freeman's farm, a field which was then cleared, although surrounded by a forest. The British picket here occupied a small house, when a part of Colonel Morgan's corps fell in with, and immediately drove them from it, leaving the house almost encircled with their dead. The pursuing party almost immediately, and very unexpectedly, fell in with the British line, and were in part captured, and the rest dispersed.

This incident occurred at half past twelve o'clock; there was then an intermission till one, when the action was sharply renewed; but it did not become general, till three, from which time it raged with unabated fury till night. The theatre of action' (says General Wilkinson,) was such, that although the combatants changed ground a dozen times, in the course of the day, the contest terminated on the spot where it began. This may be explained in a few words The British line was formed on an eminence in a thin pine wood, having before it Freeman's farm, an oblong field, stretching from the centre towards its right, the ground in front sloping gently down to the verge of this field, which was bordered, on the opposite side, by a close wood: the sanguinary scene lay in the cleared ground,between the eminence occupied by the enemy, and the wood just described; the fire of our marksmen from this wood, was too deadly to be withstood, by the enemy, in line, and when they gave way and broke, our men rushing from their covert, pursu ed them to the eminence, where, having their flanks protected, they rellied, and charging in turn, drove us back into the

wood, from whence a dreadful fire would again force them to fall back; and in this manner did the battle fluctuate, like waves of a stormy sea, with alternate advantages for four hours, without one moment's intermission. The British artillery fell into our possession at every charge, but we could neither turn the pieces upon the enemy, nor bring them off; the wood prevented the last, and the want of a matek the first. as the lintstock was invariably carried off, and the rapidity of the transi tions did not allow us time to provide one, the slaughter of this brigade of artillerists was remarkable, the Captain (Jones) and thirty-six men being killed or wounded out of forty-eight. It was truly a gallant conflict, in which death, by familiarity, lost his terrors, and certainly a drawn battle, as night alone terminated it: the British army keeping its ground in rear of the field of action, and our corps, when they could no longer distinguish objects, retiring to their own camp. Yet General Burgoyne claimed a victory.'

It had, however, with respect to him, all the consequences of a defeat; his loss was between five and six hundred, while ours was but little more than half that number; his loss was irreparable, ours easily repaired, and in proportion to our entire army, as well as absolutely, it was much less than his.

The stress of the action, as regards the British, lay, principally on the twentieth, twenty-first and sixty-second regiments; the latter, which was five hundred strong when it left Canada, was reduced to less than sixty men, and to four or five offi

cers.*

General Burgoyne states, that there was scarcely ever an interval of a minute in the smoke, when soine British officer was not shot by the American riflemen, posted in the trees, in the rear and on the flank of their own line. A shot which was meant for General Burgoyne, severely wounded Captain Green, an aid of General Philips: the mistake was owing to the Captain's baving a rich laced furniture to his saddle, which caused the marksman to mistake him for the General.

Such was the ardor of the Americans, that, as General Wilkinson states, the wounded men, after having their wounds dressed, in many instances returned again into the battle.

The battle of the seventh of October was fought on the same ground, but it was not so stationary; it commenced farther to the right, and extended, in its various periods, over more surface, eventually occupying not only Freeman s farm, but it was urged by the Americaus, to the very camp of the enemy, which, towards night, was most impetuously stormed, and in part carried.

The interval between the nineteenth * Gordon.