imself willing to beat up
through the narrow passages above, and, the Wallingford's greatest
performance being on the wind, I was determined to achieve my deliverance
that very tide. The sloop drew more water than was usual for the up-river
craft, it is true, but she was light, and, just at the moment, could go
wherever the loaded Albany vessels went. Those were not the days of vast
public works; and as for sea-going craft, none had ever crossed the
Overslaugh, so far as had come to my knowledge. Times have changed
greatly, since; but the reader will remember I am writing of that remote
period in American history, the year of our Lord 1803.

The anchor was no sooner aweigh, than the deck became a scene of activity.
The breeze was stiff, and it enabled me to show the Wallingford off to
advantage among the dull, flat-bottomed craft of that day. There were
reaches in which the wind favoured us, too; and, by the time the ladies
reappeared, we were up among the islands, worming our way through the
narrow channels with rapidity and skill. To me, and to Marble also, the
scene was entirely novel; and between the activity that our evolutions
required, and the constant change of scene, we had little leisure to
attend to those in the cabin. Just as breakfast was announced, indeed, the
vessel was approaching the more difficult part of the river; and all we
got of that meal, we took on deck, at snatches, between the many tacks we
made. As good-luck would have it, however, the wind backed more to the
westward about eight o'clock; and we were enabled to stem the ebb that
began to make at the same time. This gave us the hope of reaching the end
of our passage without again anchoring.

At length we reached the Overslaugh, which, as was apt to be the case, was
well sprinkled with vessels aground. The pilot carried us through them
all, however; if not literally with flying colours, which would have been
regarded as an insult by the less fortunate, at least with complete
success. Then Albany came into view, leaning against its sharp acclivity,
and spreading over its extensive bottom-land. It was not the town it is
to-day, by quite three-fourths less in dwellings and people; but it was
then, as now, one of the most picturesque-looking places in America. There
is no better proof, in its way, how much more influence the talking and
writing part of mankind have than the mere actors, than is to be found in
the relative consideration of Albany,