I resolved to visit the scenes of the northern campaigns during the summer and early autumn. With the exception of the historic grounds lying around New York and among the Hudson Highlands, the fields of Saratoga, in point of importance and distance, invited the initial visit. 1848 I left New York on the evening of the 24th of July for Poughkeepsie, on the banks of the Hudson, there to be joined by a young lady, my traveling companion for the summer. For many days the hot sun had been unclouded, and neither shower nor dew imparted grateful moisture to town or country. "The whispering waves were half asleep, The clouds were gone to play, And on the woods and on the deep The smiles of Heaven lay." Shelley. During the afternoon the barometer indicated a change, and portents of a gathering storm arose in the west. At twilight we entered the great amphitheater of the Highlands, and darkness came down suddenly upon us as a tempest of wind, thunder, and rain burst over the Dunderberg and the neighboring heights. A thunder-storm at night in the Hudson Highlands! It is a scene of grandeur and sublimity vouchsafed to few, and never to be forgotten. The darkness became intense, and echo confused the thunder-peals into one continuous roar. The outlines of the hills disappeared in the gloom, and our vessel seemed the only object wrapped in the bosom of the tempest, except when, at every flash of lightning, high wooded cones, or lofty ranges, or rocky cliffs burst into view like a sudden creation of the Omnipotent fiat, and then melted into chaos again. The storm continued until we passed West Point. The clouds then broke, and as we emerged from the upper gate of the Highlands into the beautiful expanse of Newburgh Bay, the moon came forth, like a queen from her pavilion, in beauty and majesty, the winds were quiet, the waters placid, and the starry sky serene, for "The thunder, tramping deep and loud Had left no foot-marks there." Returning Volunteers.-- Albany.-- Troy.-- Fulton's Steam-boat