The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1891-08-14

close his eyes and slide rapidly down the
plane away from that terrible icy wind.
But then he reflected that there might be
yawning crevasses underneath this shin
ing snowy mantle, and that he might be
lost forever under hundreds of feet of
snow and ice. He shuddered at the
prospect; but just then the wind stung
him again and, relaxing his hold, he ven
tured upon the giddy slope, and sped
down it like a flash. Lying unhurt at
the bottom of il a few minutes thereaf-
ter, he thought with shudder that to
save his life he would not, could not I'M
dertake such a reckless descent again.
V.
A little beyond are two points which
must always interest every American. AT
the northern end of the lake is the semi
circular beach where Abercrombie land
ed his advance on Ticonderoga in 1858,
and where Lord Howe was Killed by the
French while charging at the head of his
troops. The legend of Ticonderoga per-
meates the whole region hereabouts. 1t
is not strange that the story of the old
fort left so powerful an impression on
the mind of Robert Louis Stevenson that
he has embalmed it in his poem, as weird
and sinister, and withal as enchanting as
any of the quoted work of his powerful
imagination. As for myself, the lines of
Stevenson's Ticonderoga rangi in my head
all the afternoon, after passing the site
of the old military establishment.
VI.
No disappointment lay in store for me
on Lake Champlain. 1t was not that this
more northward lake is more distinctly
picturesque than Lake George, but call
it more interesting. Historically it has
certain charm because of its long con-
nection with that old France who was
always artistic, whatever else she may
have failed to be. Here for brief gen
Grafton, after the founding of Fort st.
Frederic, the French Government fan
cied that it had placed the capital of a
new empire. When the proud buildings
rose on the stately plateau, and were re-
Elected in the bosom of the beautiful
lake, the French probably said: "We
have the best rights to all this rich terri
tory; it was a Frenchman who first jour
neyed across it in 1909, and what Samuel
de Champlain gave to France shall by
France be maintained" How vain was
the boast! And how it demonstrates the
folly of national pride in the possession
of territory! Fort st. Frederic is gone,
and even the costly walls which Lord
Amherst built upon its site are crumb-
ling to decay. On the great point of land
formed by the lake on the east and a
wide estuary on the west, is the site of
the capital of which Louis XIV. fondly
dreamed, and the vision of which, doubt
less, sometimes arose before him while
he hunted with the falcon, or promenaded
in the Gifted parks at Versailles.
VII.
Nothing is left to tell that the French
were once at Crown Point, save a few
fragments of strongly cemented wall,
certain remnants of cellars and tagged
walks, which show where the incipient
capital stood.
Soon these material memorials will be
entirely lost. But the French have new
ertheless left a powerful and ineradicable
imprint here, and for hundreds of miles
around.
The staccato accents of their forefath-
ers are still heard from the lips of dark
haired, quick-eyed men and women
whom one meets at every turn; and
French names are abundant.
1 looked by chance at the list of the
crew on the steamer on Lake Champlain;
two-thirds of the names were French. In
some of the villages two-thirds of the
people speak the French tongue, al
though they all possess variegated Eng
fish, full of Gallo idioms. They proba-
bly, look back with pang at the reverses
of fortune which cost France her footing
in the New World.-EdVard King, in
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