no WINTER SKETCHES. 



times wondered that the present lady of the 

 manor does not bring them into use to ward 

 off the many strangers whose curiosity attracts 

 them to the spot. But that is not the dispo- 

 sition of the amiable and courtly hostess who 

 has so often entertained me and others at her 

 hospitable board. Proud she is, and well may 

 be, of the history of her late husband's ances- 

 try, of the portraits of the Van Cortlandts, 

 from the first Stephanus down to the present, 

 of their trophies and memorials, of the origi- 

 nal charter from the crown, of wonderful 

 curios of plate and crockery, of the old home 

 itself, solidly built of bricks said to have been 

 brought from Holland, of its wainscoted 

 walls, huge fireplaces, venerable chairs, and 

 the dark mahogany table, around which an- 

 cient Dutchmen first made merry, and the 

 great generals of the Revolution afterwards 

 did justice to its cheer when Col. Philip Van 

 Cortlandt was the master of the house. 



He himself was one of the bravest of the 

 brave, a man without fear and without re- 

 proach. His own incorruptibility led him to 

 suspect Benedict Arnold long before his trea- 

 son, and in his journal he alludes in terms by 

 no means complimentary to him as appropriat- 



