American poet, William Cullen Bryant declared, ‘the light of distant skies’, is found in the unique history, literature and art of the Hudson River Valley, birthplace of our national identity.  This article (in four parts) considers the many influences (historical, literary, artistic) of a period that helped shape the American character. Understanding the emergence and role of the Hudson River School of painting cannot be separated from other cultural factors. Ironically, the shared concern for the impact of industrialization on nature  by these 19th century artists continues, even today. In some ways, the 21st century Hudson River and its protected upper reaches may appear much like they did when first discovered by Henry Hudson in 1609 and again by an adventurous group of painters in 1825. Fine Art Magazine  

Every adventure begins with a first step and mine was onto the banks of the Hudson River in lower Manhattan, where its once-muddy banks and oyster-filled bays have long given way to a maze of concrete bulkheads; tiny Battery Park, a stubborn patch of green poised on the southern-most edge of the island, its back turned to the urban crush of steel and concrete, gazing instead out toward the Statue of Liberty and the constantly-streaming maritime commerce of one of the world’s great metropolitan centers.  

 But, 400-years earlier, Henry Hudson had passed this very spot on which I stand in his vessel, The Half Moon. His ship’s log describes passing the verdant island of Manna-hatta at “the great mouth of a great river,” on September 12, 1609. With the indigenous peoples he found living there—Lenape Indians—who populated the densely forested region that is now Central Park West, he had frequent, though sometimes contentious and even deadly, contact. As he proceeded up the river—The River of Mountains—he described it, “as pleasant a land as one can tread upon…The river is full of fish.”  

Hudson was not the first to explore what became known to the Dutch as the Mauritius and the English, the North River in search of a dream (his– a route to the Orient). Italian explorer, Giovanni Verrazano had preceded him by eight decades and many others were to follow, tracing the course of the fast-moving, shimmering silver ribbon of water, past the towering palisades of iron-rich rock to the west; through a vast, sea-like expanse farther up-river, labeled by the Dutch, the Tappan Zee; under the towering promontory that would later become the site of a colonial fortress and later still, West Point Military Academy; then, coursing their way through a maze of gentle turns, past an ancient mountain range once rivaling the Rockies, now rendered benign and scalable by the ravages of weather, eons of tectonic shifts and the river’s own shaping flow. The Dutch named this area, Kaatskill for the many kills or small streams that threaded their way to the river.  

Settlers stopped along the way to barter with the Indians, making one particular location—originally established by Hudson himself for trade with the Indians– a natural location for a permanent encampment. This settlement, now called Albany, grew and prospered with the convergence of commerce from all points on the compass. Hudson’s advance up the river stopped here, shallow conditions rendering the waterway impassable beyond that point. But, traveling farther upstream, above its junction with the Mohawk River, coursing in from the west, the Hudson’s rapids froth and cascade between high rock walls. Growing tamer as the traveler heads north, the river eventually becomes a fordable stream, slipping quietly into a wooded glen in the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains, where the mighty Hudson ultimately sources at Lake Tear in the Clouds.  

 Just 315 miles from its humble origins in this remote mountain lake, then running through primordial forests south to the sea, the elegant Hudson would never provide New World explorers a route to the Far East. But, it would soon occupy center stage in a symbolic quest for national identity, as a new People sought to define their place—literally–and role in the grand course of history’s narrative.  

In the late 1700s, the Hudson River served as the central divide for the American population (the epicenter, following the first National Census in 1790, was 30-miles east of Baltimore). Given its strategic geographic location, it factored both militarily and economically for both friend and foe, alike. British naval incursions up the Hudson sought to divide and conquer the colonial enemy during the Revolution; Washington briefly sought the shelter of its New Jersey shore for himself and his tattered army as he fled the British in 1776. Later, the Erie Canal would connect the river and its tributaries to mid-western settlements—serving as a water highway for goods and people eager to develop the territories that seemed to extend endlessly over the horizon.  

By 1825, the new nation was at a crossroads. The revolutionary fervor that once propelled the national identity had faded into history. A new generation of immigrants had taken up residence in the United States, seeking land and opportunity. Westward expansion was a daily event for families and commercial enterprises. A new wilderness Zion beckoned those who were bold and brave enough to respond to its call. The untamed land that lay west of the Hudson River became a symbol for beauty, mystery and danger.  

But in the early years of the nation, the hills and valleys of the Catskills, their marshes and glens, rocky outcroppings and ultimately the Hudson River, itself, would serve as compelling symbols for the power of nature and its wonders that God had lain at the feet of the American people—a land that, for many, was viewed as theirs for the taking.  

by Richard J. Friswell, Executive Editor  

Part II: The Hudson’s Dutch Settlers and their Lasting Influence