Travels Through North America, During the Years 1825 and 1826. v. 1-2

We left Schenectady early in the morning on board the packet-boat Samuel Young, which had engaged to take us to Utica, eighty miles distant, by an early hour the next day. It was a large boat, and, as the passengers are obliged to spend the night on board, is provided with separate apartments for the ladies. The canal again ran along the well-cultivated valley of the Mohawk, and the country, on account of the foliage of the trees upon the heights was beautiful. The village of Amsterdam consists of a few neat houses; and opposite, on the right bank of the Mohawk, is Rotterdam. On our way we passed several small aqueducts, the longest of which rest only upon three piers, and extend over small brooks, which, as well as the small rivulets, are distinguished by the Indian appellation of “creek.” The canal is carried over two rivers, called Schoharie and Canajoharie creeks, from which it receives the most of its water. At this place the horses are conveyed to the opposite side of the two rivers by means of ferry-boats. At the first ferry is a small village, called Fort Hunter, where, before the revolution, there had been a fort, or rather a redoubt of the same name. Towards evening we passed through a valley, which is formed by two rocky mountains, one of which is called Anthony’s Nose. The houses we saw on our route, had generally a handsome appearance; to-day and yesterday I observed also some saw-mills. There are twenty-six locks between Schenectady and Utica. The day was intolerably warm, and our company was very numerous. I confined myself to writing, the whole day, as much as possible; but, in consequence of the heat, I could not avoid sleeping. In the evening we fortunately had a thunder-storm, which cooled the air. During the night, as there was a want of births, the beds were placed upon benches, and, as I was the tallest person, mine was put in the centre upon the longest bench, with a chair as a supplement. It had the appearance of a hereditary sepulchre, in the centre of which I lay as father of the family. I spent an uncomfortable night, on account of my constrained posture, the insects which annoyed me, and the steersman, who always played an agreeable tune upon his bugle whenever he approached a lock. During the night we passed an aqueduct bridge, which stands over a solace, called Little Falls. Towards morning we passed through a well-cultivated region, with some neat houses, called German flats, and which was settled by some Germans during the time of Queen Anne. At about twelve o’clock at noon we arrived at Utica, nine miles from the place where we passed a lock, which is the last that occurs in the next seventy miles. The land appeared to be marshy, and consisted of sand and pebbles.

Utica, which is intersected by the canal, is a flourishing town, of about four thousand inhabitants, and stands upon the site where Fort Schuyler, a redoubt against the Indians, was formerly situated. In 1794, there was a small tavern here, which was the only dwelling house in this part of the country; but at present Utica is one of the most flourishing towns in the state of New York, and new houses are continually building. In fact, it is only here that a person begins to admire the great improvements in cultivation, and gets perfectly new ideas of the works of man, and of his enterprising genius! Utica, on the right bank of the Mohawk, has two banks, four churches, an academy, and large and convenient stores, a bookstore, and printing-office. It has also several ale-houses, and three fine taverns, at the largest of which, called Shepherd’s hotel, we found excellent accommodations. In this house there are always more than seventy beds for the accommodation of strangers; and these, on some occasions, are barely sufficient. The number of travellers this summer, is said to have been unusually great, especially from the southern states, where the heat is intolerable, and the summers generally unhealthy. In such an American tavern every thing is perfectly comfortable, and proportionably cheap. The price for board and lodging is a dollar a day. The bell for rising rings before seven o’clock in the morning. The bed-chambers are spacious, the beds wide and comfortable, and the linen fine and perfectly clean. The bed-chambers, moreover, are furnished with the necessary wash-stands, &c. After a person is dressed, he enters the bar-room, where he finds all kinds of strong and refreshing drinks; the desk of the head waiter is also here, who attends to the bill. The inn-keeper is generally a gentleman, who eats with the guests, and leads the conversation. Besides the entry, where the boots and shoes are left in the evening, and where they are found well cleaned in the morning, there are several sitting, reading, and writing parlours, &c. And if a person wishes a separate sitting-room, especially when he travels with ladies, it may be readily had at a separate charge. Half an hour after rising, they ring the bell for breakfast; and, upon going to the dining-room, you find upon a covered table, beef-steaks, mutton, broiled chicken, or other fowls, fish, and boiled potatoes, which are of a very superior quality. The waiters, or in many places, the servant-maids, hand the coffee and tea. As the Americans, in general, are a quiet people, such a breakfast, which is eaten in great haste, is attended with but little noise. Dinner is generally served at about two o’clock, and tea at seven in the evening. At tea, the table is again furnished as at breakfast, with the addition of ragouts and baker’s bread. Nobody is obliged to drink wine. There are usually water and whiskey on the table, which are mixed in the summer, as the most healthy drink. Every one must help himself as well as he can, for the victuals are not handed about. Napkins you do not get, and instead, you are obliged to make use of the table-cloth. With the exception of the spoons, there is no silver on the table; the forks have two steel prongs, and their handles, like those of the knives, are of buck’s horn. It is an excellent rule, that no one on departing is obliged to give money to the servants.

At Utica, seven of us for nine dollars hired a stage to visit the Falls of Trenton, distant fourteen miles. Our passengers were partly from New York, and partly from the state of North Carolina. We crossed the Mohawk upon a covered wooden bridge, built in a bad and awkward manner, on which I observed an advertisement, “that all persons who pass this bridge on horseback or wagon faster than a walk, shall be fined one dollar.” After this, our road gradually ascended to a forest, which was, however, in part cleared for new fields. The timber is so much neglected here, that they will very probably feel the want of it in less than fifty years. At a short distance from the falls of West Canada Creek is a new tavern, which is situated in a lately cleared forest, and is built entirely of wood. At this tavern we left the carriage, and went on foot through thick woods, from which a pair of stairs conduct to the falls. A new pair of wooden stairs of about eighty steps, built for the accommodation of strangers, leads to the bed of the river. This consists entirely of slate-rock, is about two hundred feet wide, and is enclosed between high rocky banks, which are lined by beautiful and lofty firs, arbor vitæ, the maple, the elm, and the cedar. This beautiful mass of green, the azure sky, the large and variegated rocks, and the three falls, produce a most happy effect. The rocks at these falls, which, on account of the great heat, scarcely extended over half the river, are so excavated by the water, that they have the form of a common kettle. The upper falls, which are about ninety feet high, are the grandest; and near them, under the shade of an arbor vitæ, an adventurer has established a small tavern, which presents a very picturesque appearance, and is said to yield considerable profit. The rocks contain handsome petrifactions of shells, plants, and animals; and we saw one specimen a foot and a half long, which resembled a young alligator; of the smaller ones we took several specimens. At the tavern where we had put up, we found a tolerably good dinner, and towards evening returned to Utica. The day was fine and pleasant. The thunder-storm of yesterday, had done some good. I regretted that it was too late upon our return to Utica, to visit a hydrostatic lock, designed to weigh the boats which pass on the canal.

Having seen enough of the canal, and being anxious to see the newly-settled country between this place and Niagara, we determined to continue our journey on the next day in the stage-coach. With this intention we left Utica at 4 o’clock in the morning of the 17th of August, and the same day arrived at Auburn, distant seventy-three miles. The stage-coaches in this country do not, as in England, travel ten miles an hour, but usually six; as the country is generally hilly, and the coach, when it carries the mail, stops at every village where there is a post-office, on account of the great number of newspapers; the letter-bag must be taken out, opened, again locked, and then returned; the coachmen also are not very punctual, so that travelling is not so rapid as it should be. The villages between Utica and Auburn were New Hartford, four miles, Manchester, five miles, Vernon, eight miles, Oneida, five miles, Lenox, four miles, Sullivan, eight miles, Manlius, six miles, Jamesville, five miles, Onandago Hollow, five miles, Onandago Hill, two miles, Marcellus, eight miles, and Skeneatelass, six miles.

Between Manchester and Vernon day dawned, and we found ourselves in a rather wild country, in the midst of a wilderness. Oneida is an Indian settlement, and was built by the remnant of the once mighty Oneida tribe, who, unlike their countrymen, unwilling to fly before the white settlers to the west, are at present a wretched people, despised and oppressed by their neighbours like a gang of gypsies. They have been obliged to learn trades, and to labour on farms; they have also been converted to Christianity by means of missionaries, and of whom the principal one is a Mr. Williams, a converted Indian, educated by the Quakers. On entering the village we observed on a little eminence to the left, a small, neat, frame church, where the Indians hold their service, and close by, an open plain, surrounded by butternut trees, called “Council Grove” where the elders of the tribe assemble to deliberate on their most important affairs. The houses of the Indians are scattered through the fields, are generally small, and built of logs. In the centre of the village are white settlers, mechanics and tavern-keepers; the latter of whom in particular make out well, as the Indians are fond of strong drink. The land belongs to the whole tribe, and each individual labours for the common good. We observed several Indians along the road. They had a tawny complexion, and black hair; the men appeared to be well built, and the women were stout, and resemble the pictures of Esquimaux women in Parry’s Travels. Some of them wore their hair down, which, if possible, increased their ugliness. Both the men and women wear trowsers, generally of blue, and ornamented with white lace; sometimes also of two colours, like the prisoners at Boston. The men wear shirts over their trowsers, and great-coats of cloth. The women dress in white or blue woollen mantles. At first, I thought myself in civilized Europe, for a great number of children came along the carriage to beg, a circumstance which had not occurred since my arrival in the United States. It was soon ascertained, however, that they were Indian children, dressed somewhat like their parents, and of the same complexion. The girls had brass buckles on their cloaks, which fastened in front, and most of them wore large bead necklaces.

Behind this village the road led along a considerable hill, from which we had a beautiful view of Oneida Lake, which presented the appearance of a large stream. Here you have a number of extensive prospects, which, however, as you see but little cultivated land and few houses, is rather uniform. Farther on we saw a small lake called Salt Lake, which is in the midst of a forest, and has on its banks three picturesquely situated towns, Liverpool, Salina, and Syracuse. At Salina are rich salt springs, the water of which is collected in reservoirs, and it is evaporated by the heat of the sun to procure the salt. Beyond Sullivan we passed through the village of Chitteningo. It contains several mills, a cotton factory, and a branch of the Erie Canal, which forms a kind of harbour, and serves as a landing place for articles manufactured here, and for the plaster and lime which are procured in the neighbourhood. This lime becomes hard under water, so that it is excellently adapted to waterworks. We dined at Manlius, a new village, containing two churches. Besides the usual stage-coach there were two others to-day, all full of passengers. In our own we had for a short distance a farmer, a descendant of a German emigrant, who spoke the language that was used in Germany about a hundred years ago. He thought my German was too high, and that I spoke it like a parson. From the canal which forms an angle here, we drove in a southerly direction, in order to keep on the plains, as the main road, which is nearer, leads over a hill. The two Onondago villages appear to be flourishing manufacturing places, and are pleasantly situated. Marcellus is also a new village and has two churches. Most of the small villages have two churches, an Episcopal and a Presbyterian. In each of them, and even at the Indian village, there is a school. In several of the villages also I had the pleasure of seeing bookstores. Beyond Marcellus the night unfortunately closed in, which prevented me from seeing Skeneatelass Lake, as well as the town of the same name, which is said to be extremely pleasantly situated on one of its banks. About nine o’clock in the evening we arrived at Auburn, and found good accommodations at one of the public houses. This town contains upwards of one hundred and fifty houses, a court-house and penitentiary, which is said to be managed in a very excellent manner. To my regret I saw none of them; for at four o’clock the next morning, 18th of August, we set out in the stage-coach for Rochester, distant sixty-nine miles. The villages which we passed on our route were, Cayuga, nine miles, Seneca Falls, three miles, Waterloo, five miles, Geneva, six miles, Canandaigua, sixteen miles, Mendon, fifteen miles, Pittsford, seven miles, from which latter it was yet eight miles to Rochester.

It was just daylight as we arrived in the vicinity of Cayuga, on the lake of the same name, which is about twenty miles long, and from one to three wide. This lake empties into the Seneca river, which afterwards unites with the Mohawk. We crossed the lake not far from its mouth, on a wooden bridge, one mile in length, eighteen yards wide, and built in a very rough and careless manner: the planks are loose and the chevaux-de-frise is in a bad condition. On the opposite side of the lake is a large toll-house. At a short distance from this we arrived at Seneca Falls, so called in consequence of the little falls of the Seneca river, which are close by, and are chiefly formed by a mill-dam. At the tavern we met an Indian and his wife, of the Oneida tribe, who were going on a visit to the Senecas. We conversed with the man, who had been at school, and understood English. He told us that he had been raised by a Quaker missionary, and that he was a farmer, and concluded by asking for a little money, which he probably spent with his ugly wife at the next grog-shop.

All the villages through which we passed are quite new, and in many places we passed through primitive forests, which, in some places, they are just beginning to clear. At Waterloo the first house was erected in 1816, and at present it has two churches and about three thousand inhabitants. Several of the houses are built of brick, and contain well furnished stores. At the tavern we saw a large, beautiful young eagle, which had been caught in his nest and tamed. The country beyond Waterloo was boggy, and the road in some places made of large logs, so that we were very disagreeably jolted. Geneva is situated at the north point of Seneca Lake, which is between fifty and sixty miles long and about five wide. The town derives its name from its similarity of situation to Geneva in Switzerland. It is also quite new, and contains about four thousand inhabitants. It has two churches and several large stone and brick houses, of which the Franklin Hotel, situated on the bank of the lake, is the most spacious and beautiful. I went into a bookstore to ascertain what kind of books were most sold in this part of the country, and was told that the ancient classics and religious books found the most ready sale; sometimes also novels, law and medical works. The college is said to have several hundred students. In front of the town along the lake, there are beautiful country seats and gardens. On the other side of the town the woods are but a short distance from the houses, and are as yet not much cleared. We saw, however, several tracts of timber on fire; the trees are burnt in order to clear the land.

Canandaigua, which lies on the north point of the lake of the same name, which is about twenty miles long, is an extremely beautiful and pleasant town, that has been but lately settled. The Duke de la Rochefoucault says, that during his travels in America, in 1790, there was but a single house on this lake, in which he spent the night, in a garret used as a store-room. Now it is a beautiful commercial town, having one bank, a court-house, and a very superior tavern. The court was sitting, and there was a large collection of people, so that the town exhibited a very lively appearance. At this place the road separates, the left goes through Batavia and several small villages to Buffalo on Lake Erie; the right, to Rochester, and thence to Lake Ontario and the Falls of Niagara: and as this road again approaches the Erie canal, it is said to be the most interesting. On this account we gave it the preference, although the longest route.

We left Canandaigua in the afternoon, and rode through Victor, Mendon, and Pittsford, to Rochester. On this route we observed nothing particularly interesting, excepting several new settlements; the inhabitants of which resided in log-houses, which had a peculiar, but by no means an unpleasant aspect. I was particularly pleased with the neat and decent appearance of the inhabitants.

We arrived at Rochester at half past eight o’clock in the evening, and took lodgings at the Eagle Tavern. We crossed the Genesee river, which divides Rochester into two parts, on a wooden bridge, the first that we had hitherto met in the United States that was built firmly and properly. It rests upon stone piers, and is made of solid beams, with thick and well fastened planks. The next morning we walked through the town, and were pleased with its rapid increase. In 1812, there was not a single house here; nothing but a wilderness; and the land could be purchased at one dollar and twenty-five cents per acre. At present, Rochester is one of the most flourishing towns in the state of New York. It contains four churches, one bank, a court-house, and about four thousand inhabitants. Many of the houses are built of blue limestone, and of brick. The town contains several mills and manufactories; and amongst others, a nail factory, in which the nails are made with a machine, as in Birmingham. They also manufacture rifle-guns, which are very long and heavy. On the right bank of the Genesee river, the houses are not so numerous as on the left, and there are yet many frame, and even some log-houses: in the place where, probably in a short time, handsome wharves will be built, there may yet be seen stumps of trees – a truly interesting sight to those who observe the progress of this country. The basements of the houses are generally built of rough sand-stone; their corners, doors, and windows, of a kind of white marble-like sand-stone, and the rest of brick. The white sand-stone is procured in the neighbourhood, and is cut into slabs at a saw-mill on the Genesee river. I saw three of these blocks sawed; and in one frame I observed no less than five saws. Several hundred yards below the bridge the Genesee river is about two hundred yards wide, and has a fall of ninety-five feet, which at present, however, did not appear to much advantage. Above the falls is a race which conducts the water to several mills, and it again flows into the river below the falls, where it forms three beautiful cascades, which reminded me of the Villa di Mäcen, at Tivoli.

At Rochester the Erie canal is carried over the Genesee river by a stone aqueduct bridge, and resembles that of the Bridgewater canal at Manchester, in England. This aqueduct, which is about one thousand yards above the falls, rests upon a base of slate rock, and is seven hundred and eighty feet long. A work which has been lately published, called the “Northern Tour,” gives the following description of it: “The aqueduct consists of eleven broad arches, built in the form of circular segments, the tops of which are raised eleven feet above the level of the arches, and fifteen feet above that of the water in the river. The two exterior arches have an extent of forty feet each, and beneath them are the streams which turn the mills; the other nine each fifty feet wide, &c.” Upon one of its sides is a tow-path secured by iron railings. The whole is a solid work, and does much credit to its architect, Benjamin Wright.

We left Rochester at nine o’clock, on board the canal packet-boat Ohio, Captain Storch. The canal, between Lockport and Rochester, runs a distance of sixty-three miles, through a tolerably level country, and north of the Rochester ridge. This ridge consists of a series of rocks, which form the chain of the mountains which commences north of Lake Erie, stretches eastward to the Niagara river, confines it, and forms its falls, then continues its course, and forms the different falls which are north of Lake Ontario, and is at length lost in the neighbourhood of the Hudson. It has only been within the last year that this part of the canal has been passable; its course is through dense sombre forests, in which are but few settlements, such as Spencer’s Basin, Bates, and Brickport. The bridges are better and higher than those we have mentioned in the preceding pages. Amongst our passengers, was a Mr. Bosch, a Dutch clergyman from Curaçao, and the Rev. Messrs. Sluiter and Wykoff, from New York. These gentlemen, being of Dutch descent, the conversation was generally carried on in their native tongue. Captain Storch also, who is a native of Amsterdam, and a Jew by birth, who has travelled extensively, made the time pass very pleasantly, by his lively disposition, and his agreeable conversation. Both before and after dinner, as well as at tea, the two clergymen from New York, asked a blessing; and before we retired to bed, one of them read several chapters in the Bible, and then made a long prayer.

We reached Lockport on the 20th of August, about 7 o’clock in the morning. At this place the canal is carried over the ridge by five large locks, through which the water is raised to the height of seventy-six feet. The locks are ten in number, being arranged in two parallel rows, so that while the boats ascend in one row, they may descend at the same time in the other. Through this arrangement the navigation is greatly facilitated, and the whole work, hewn through and surrounded by large rocks, presents an imposing aspect.

Lockport, to which we repaired, while the boat was left in the basin at the foot of the locks, is an extremely interesting place, and is situated just above the locks. In May, 1821, it consisted of two log-houses; at present it contains not less than six hundred, some of which are stone houses: it contains a post-office, one printing-office, which issues a weekly paper, and two churches. Though at present Lockport appears perfectly wild, yet this appearance will no doubt vanish in the course of four or five years, so that it will present as splendid an appearance as Canandaigua and Rochester. On our arrival, the canal was still unfinished for about five miles; but it was supposed that the whole would be completed before the close of the year. They were obliged to cut it through solid rock, generally about thirty feet deep, for a distance of more than three miles. This was mostly effected by blasting. Several hundred Irishmen were at work. They reside in log huts, built along the canal. They make much money; but they suffer also severely in consequence of the unhealthy climate, especially from fevers, which not unfrequently prove fatal. The stone, which is quarried, is employed in building houses, and in making turnpikes. In breaking the rocks they often find beautiful petrifactions, and other remarkable minerals; for example, strontian, and beautiful transparent gypsum. I saw a large petrified tree, and a handsome petrified sea-coral.