Lansingburgh "the prettiest little town" (1853)

Correspondence of the Daily Eagle.LANSINGBURGH, ALBANY CO., [sic] N. Y.,August 15, 1853I wrote you from the Mountain House a few days back, since when I have passed through Albany and Troy, and am now rusticating in the pretty little town of Lansingburgh, situated on the east bank of the Hudson, some ten or twelve miles above Albany. I think it is without exception the prettiest little town I ever set my foot in. The streets are of the cleanest, the houses of the whitest, and the shutters and trees of the greenest—giving the place a countrified charm that can only be properly relished by those who have passed the greater portion of their existence 'midst the monuments of brick and mortar.On Sunday last, I paid a visit to the Shaker village, some fifteen miles from Lansingburgh, and attended the divine service of this apparently unjointed class of worshipers. The place, within a mile round, was covered with carriages of every description, conveying visitors from all parts of the country. The church of the Shakers is one of the neatest and plainest; but the interior differs considerably from any church that I have ever seen. A small space at one end is set apart for what they call the "World's people," leaving a clear space of perhaps one hundred by fifty, in which to perform their devotional services. Seats, without cushions, are fixed around the room, and the floor is as smooth as polished marble, which gives it a striking resemblance to that of the ball room in Montague Hall. Shortly after being seated, the Shakers made their appearance through a couple of doors at the opposite end of the church, the males at one door and the females at the other. The masculines were all dressed in coarse blue clothes, with long, old fashioned waistcoats, and in their short sleeves; while the females wore long, plain white dresses, (resembling night-gowns) and on their heads lace caps—thus exhibiting their only colors: white and blue. After resting awhile they all arose in solemn dignity, and formed in columns in the centre of the floor, where they delivered themselves of several psalms, (I suppose) and then rested again, preparatory to their Terpsichorian exercises. Upon a motion of their leader, they arose a second time, and immediately commenced shaking and dancing; and with the thermometer at 99 in the shade, you may well suppose the perspiration rolled freely; but they didn't seem to mind it a bit, but rattled away at a rate only equalled by French dancing masters. The air sung by the party was none other than our old popular melody "Fi, Fi, Yah!" only accompanied with variations. After shaking and dancing to their satisfaction, they took the seats around the room, and wiped up the drippings of sweat with towels, which each one carried. We then had a sermon from one of the party, in which he exhorted us to reflect upon our course before it was too late, and be saved from eternal damnation; after which, the congregation was dismissed. What struck me as rather curious, was the fact that this peculiar tribe, with the exception of three or four half-idiotic looking boys and girls, is composed of persons of advanced age; some of them, I have no doubt, as old as ninety years, grey-headed and toothless. On the whole, they seemed a congregation of delapidaded bachelors and disappointed maids, and upon the first sight cause my sides to silently "shake," in a way not very devotional.On Monday I visited, in company with two or three others, the falls of Cohoes, which are situated about seven miles from Troy, and spent a delightful afternoon in leaping the rocks beneath, and bathing in the spray. The falls are some forty feet in height; but in consequence of the recent unusually dry weather in this part of the country, the water did not come over with such force or rapidity as it has heretogore done; yet, nevertheless, they were very grand and majestic. After viewing the falls and the adjoining rocks and woods, we adjourned to the Cataract House, where the party partook of refreshments of a mild nature, of course.On my way home, I visited a very extensive woolen manufactory in Cohoes, where I was politely shown over the whole building, and witnessed the manufacture of such articles as undershirts, drawers, stockings, &c. In one room I counted fifty good-looking girls, all as busy as mosquitos, in preparing the wool for the machinery, and finishing the goods as they came from the loom. The different operations the wool has to go through before being made into garments, was to me very interesting, and were it not that it might be supposed, that it was petticoats instead of the factory I went to see, I should certainly pay it another visit.A little incident occurred in this town last night, which I cannot help mentioning, as it concerns a lady, and a lady too, of your own little city of Brooklyn, who is on a visit to her relatives in this place. A fire broke out, about one o'clock, next door to the residence of the lady in question, who, first seeing the flames, gave the alarm; but, from some reason or other, it was not responded to by the firemen. Seeing this, and knowing the damage that might result from the delay, she hastily dressed herself and ran to the engine house, unlocked it, and groping her way to the bell-pull, sounded the alarm. She then seized the tongue of the engine, and dragged it into the street, before a single fireman made his appearance on the ground. This fact, be it remembered, was accomplished entirely in the dark, there being not as much as a street lamp in the town. There, sir, what do you think of that, for one of the fair sex? I am almost afraid to give her name, and yet nothing would please me more. She is, however, a young lady very well known in Brooklyn, possessing great personal charms. She will shortly return to your city, I believe, and perhaps, then, you may hear more of her.But I am making my letter too long. To-morrow I start for Buffalo, and thence to Niagara and Montreal; and returning, I intend visiting Saratoga. Should I meet with no accident by flood, field or railroad, I expect a fine time going, and a "good time coming." In the meantime, probably, you will hear from me again. N.Brooklyn Daily Eagle. August 18, 1853: 2 col 4.