Ocean to Ocean on Horseback

It is hard to realize a more delightful and thoroughly restful existence than that found in suburban villages, where the influences of active forces are felt, but where they cannot disturb the even tranquillity. They seem to illustrate the "golden mean" which Horace recommends, and I find that it is always pleasant to reach such places and hard to leave them.

CHAPTER XI.

THREE DAYS AT BUFFALO

An hour's ride from Lancaster, on the morning of the nineteenth, brought to view the motley array of chimneys and towers that overtop the "Queen City of the Lakes." While making my way towards them, and receiving first impressions, my attention was attracted by a brigade drill on the parade ground, which I halted to witness. This was the first instance during my journey in which I had encountered any considerable body of military men, with the exception of the Grand Army procession at Utica, on Memorial Day. The marching and manœuvres evinced close attention to tactics and excellent discipline, and the equipment of officers and men reflected much credit upon the Empire State, which has every reason to be proud of these her citizen-soldiers.

Drill over, I rode on into Buffalo, and, soon after registering at the Tift House, had the pleasure of meeting Major John M. Farquhar, who introduced me to my audience at St. James Hall in the evening.

Major Farquhar is a comrade, prominent in G. A. R. circles, and was then commander of the leading post of the city. From him I learned something of the changes which had taken place since my last visit here, and which I was desirous to see as much of as circumstances would allow. Buffalo has a peculiarly rich history, and, like the old towns of the Mohawk Valley, the romantic view which Indian life and love have given.

Near here the arrogant Eries held their councils, and deliberated upon the downfall of their powerful neighbors of the Five Nations; who, in turn, ruined and almost exterminated them. The chronicles tell us that the Iroquois, coming by invitation to engage in friendly contest on the hunting-ground of the Eries, soon discovered the real intent of the wily "Cats," who were jealous of the renown of their red brothers. Failing in the games they had themselves proposed, and blind with rage, they saw their tolerant guests depart with the trophies of victory. No sooner were they out of sight than a council of war was held, and a decision to conquer them agreed upon. The war bonnets were donned, the dog sacrificed, and every preparation made for a raid into the enemy's country; but a Seneca woman who had been taken prisoner by the Eries some years before, apprised the great chiefs of her nation of the intended attack.

In this way the Eries were in turn surprised and defeated in their last game with their rivals. Only a few of their warriors were left to bear the hateful news to the women and old men who were waiting in the wigwams: and these with their allies, terribly punished as they had been in the encounter, were driven by their infuriated enemies beyond the Mississippi. The Senecas, who proudly called themselves the western gate-keepers of the "Long House," made a settlement near Buffalo, to which they gave the musical name of Te-you-seo-wa, the place of basswood, having found there huts covered with basswood bark, the remnants of some lately abandoned village. This settlement was not as near the lake-front as the city now is, but was cautiously laid out farther back from shore to prevent surprise. Here the young braves found a favorite hunting-ground, and were wont to conceal themselves near the salt springs that bubble up from the border of the creek, to await the buffaloes, which came there in herds. There has been some dispute as to the naming of the city, and the possibility of the American bison having frequented this part of the country, but it is generally believed that herds of these herbivorous animals did graze on Eastern soil, and that the attacks of carnivorous beasts and the constant warfare waged against them by the Indians drove them to the Western plains.

Nearly two centuries ago, when the site of the present city was still a wilderness through whose tangled labyrinths Indian eyes peered out over the gleaming waters of the lake, La Hontan penetrated these western wilds, and suggested to his sovereign the building of a fort here, as a safeguard against the Iroquois.

We see almost instinctively the scenes which he saw as we follow him through lake and stream – the great falls sparkling beneath an August sun, their wild surroundings unmarred and untrodden save by moccasined feet; the rapids and then the river, to whose current, farther up, he trusted his boat. But it was not until long after this that the sound of the woodman's axe was heard in the forests at the foot of Lake Erie, when the pioneer had come to make his home, and to lay the foundation of a future city.

One after another crude cabins were raised, and in turn were replaced by more comfortable houses, so that in 1813 the settlement was large enough to make quite a bonfire for the British and their dusky allies. The events which took place at Buffalo, connected with this war, were singularly exciting; and, although there were brave hearts and stout arms ready to defend their country, we cannot but regret the peculiar circumstances which led to the general havoc here.

Historians have gleaned such glowing descriptions from those who were either witnesses or participants in these stirring scenes, that we cannot fail to be moved by them.

The night surprise, in the woods, near Black Rock, when the American troops were suddenly greeted by ambushed Britons: the rout which followed when the terrified horsemen dashed back in retreat through the ranks of the infantry, demoralizing them in turn, is so vividly drawn that it has the reality of later times. Afterwards when the alarmed people heard the cry that the British were coming, and we see them in confused masses trying to escape with their household goods, we sympathize with their terror as they saw in the distance the dreaded Indian jogging towards them with club and hatchet.

It was then that Job Hoysington, who was with one of the retreating parties, lingered behind his companions, saying that he would have "one more shot at the Red Skins." He evidently did have the coveted chance, and so did the enemy, for when the snow melted in the spring the brave fellow was found with his empty musket at his side, and a bullet through his brain. The work of vengeance had been completed with the scalping-knife. At the corner of Main and Niagara streets an old twelve-pounder stood. As the imposing column of British infantry were advancing upon the town, a patriotic citizen had the gun mounted and two shots fired into the ranks. He afterwards met the enemy with a flag of truce – a handkerchief tied to his cane – and requested a halt.

This was granted, and a parley begun, while the townspeople were escaping.

The firing of the houses and the plundering of them by the Indians followed. Buffalo rose, however, from her ashes full of new life and ambition, and much improved in appearance. Her firesides were again the scene of happy security, and her women, lately fugitives, fleeing in terror from fire and sword, were again the social inspirations of a thriving community. More than this, they were contributing to the enterprises of the city, for in 1821 between three and four thousand yards of cloth were woven in the homes of Buffalo!

The Erie Canal being completed in 1822, and commerce beginning in earnest, no doubt took away from the importance of the spinning-wheel and loom, for these busy little machines of the past have been stored away in the garrets long enough to make them well-seasoned relics. Housewifely attention at this time had to be turned to the management of larger establishments, for Buffalo had far outgrown her infancy, and was assuming certain new conceits in architecture, although she has never equalled the splendor of other large cities in her public buildings. The new City and County Hall approaches more nearly to the modern idea, and is very attractive within and without. It is built of Maine granite in the form of a double Roman cross, and is surmounted by a lofty tower bearing four symbolic figures. With the increase of canal and railroad traffic, the building of the immense grain elevators, which are a striking feature of Buffalo, was commenced.

Their number and size have been increased to such an extent that they almost make a town in themselves and are capable of accommodating eight million bushels of grain. The incessant work of storing and transferring is carried on about these wooden giants day after day, sometimes to the extent of more than three million bushels, while, at their feet, boats come and go in the great commercial game of "give and take." There is every facility for carrying on a trade of this kind, for Buffalo River is navigable for more than two miles from its mouth, which is protected by breakwaters which form an excellent harbor, while there is a water-front on the lake and the Niagara River five miles long. In 1869, the United States Government began the construction of an outside harbor, by building a breakwater 4000 feet long fronting the entrance of the Buffalo River.

Overlooking Buffalo River stand the office buildings whence come the calculating and controlling influences that keep in "clock work" order this mart where grain is "received, transferred, stored and forwarded with greater dispatch than in any other port of the country." Beyond these, in the heart of the city, are the retail and wholesale stores, where not only Buffalo finds her wants supplied, but numberless sister towns; and owing to her close proximity to the great coal region of Pennsylvania, she has very cheap fuel, which, no doubt, is a convenient item when a "cold wave" comes across the lake. Her iron works, reputed to be the largest in the country, add to her general good fortune by putting within easy access the necessary stoves.

Besides all this material comfort, the climate is extremely healthful, and the location of the city such as to make clean, wide streets a possibility.

There are several of these lined with handsome residences, and adorned with parks, which are wisely thought to be an indispensable luxury.

In the midst of the business hurry there are several quiet corners where one may quench his thirst for knowledge, and where master-thinkers lend their potent influence. One of these is the Grosvenor Library, the munificent gift of one of Buffalo's pioneers. It is admirably arranged for convenience and comfort, and has a pleasant outlook over a little park between Washington and Main streets. The Library of the Young Men's Association, although containing nearly twice as many volumes as the Grosvenor, is not so largely frequented, but is, nevertheless, a great resort for readers. There are also a number of smaller libraries, where eager minds may have their fill of books.

Here and there about the city one finds the familiar evidences of Christian thought and work in the beautiful tower-capped churches, each with its own varied attractions. St. Paul's Cathedral – Episcopalian – a handsome structure of brownstone, ivy-grown and picturesque, from whose walls in summer comes the sound of birds, lies almost centrally among a hundred others, and not far away is the Roman Catholic house of worship, the dignified bit of Gothic architecture which they have named St. Joseph's.

One of my favorite haunts here is the quiet, carpetless "Historical Rooms," from whose walls the Indian warriors who helped make Buffalo's history look down in unchanging stolidity. Not least among these is Red Jacket, who forms such a striking figure in the city's traditions. An amusing incident which his picture recalls is that of Lafayette on his return from his Western tour in 1824. Among the preparations that were being made for his reception was the guarding, by an especial committee, of their "aboriginal lion," who was a trifle too fond of his "firewater" and who was to be the leading orator of the day. When the appointed time arrived, so the story goes, the sachem was led upon the platform in all his conscious dignity. A long conversation between him and the great Frenchman followed, through an interpreter, whom Red Jacket employed upon formal occasions; in the course of which the Indian complimented the General upon his youthful appearance. "Time has left you a fresh countenance, and hair to cover your head," said he, "while as for me – see!" and he took off the scarf that was wound about his own bald crown. This provoked a laugh among the spectators who knew that Lafayette wore a wig. When Red Jacket was made aware of the fact, he added with ready wit that he too might supply himself with a new head of hair by the aid of a scalping-knife!

Everything upon the walls and in the cases has been donated by private individuals, as the society has not yet been able to make valuable purchases, but there is enough already to make this treasure-house of the past interesting. Relics from pioneer times figure largely; among the rest, arrow-heads and tomahawks, pipes and belts of wampum, adding to the odd collection, and suggesting all manner of horrors to those who delight in Indian history.

"Forest Lawn," the place which Buffalo has selected for her dead, is a most lovely spot, the loveliest of its kind between Brooklyn's Greenwood and Chicago. Everything that art could do in the arrangement of shrub and flower has been added, and stands as a tribute to those who are "lying low" and as a witness to the faithful thought of the living. It is only one of the beautiful tokens of devotion which one sees, from the simple epitaph in a country graveyard in the East to the solitary resting-place, high in some tree-top of the West, where our Red Brother "sleeps his last sleep."

Adjoining the Cemetery are a few acres of woodland that have been set aside for a kind of park. On warm summer days those seeking rest and pleasure, come to pay their respects to Dame Nature, who makes herself very attractive here. But this is only one, and a comparatively small one, of the various resorts where tired humanity may drop its burden, and roam at will. So Buffalo has her grave and her gay side, and her business side, which is neither grave nor gay, making their different impressions on the traveller's eye, and combining, as a whole, in a very pleasing effect. She has made and will make some very striking changes, as all cities of consequence do; but changes worthy of the "Queen City of the Lakes," who, although she may have to relinquish her title to some outstripping sister, may always hold her head high with conscious importance. She is still the third city in the State of New York in point of population.

CHAPTER XII.

BUFFALO TO CLEVELAND

Forty-fourth Day

North Evans Hotel,North Evans, New York,June 23, 1876.

It had been my intention to leave the "Queen City" on the afternoon of the twenty-first, but I was delayed by my advance agents, who required more time to arrange the preliminaries of my lectures between Buffalo and Cleveland. Babcock went forward to Dunkirk. Farrington to Erie, while it was decided that my brother should accompany me as far as Angola. There were other reasons too, for a longer sojourn at Buffalo, as it was here I met my wife for the last time during my journey, and we had decided that it would be impracticable to meet again before my return from San Francisco. While I anticipated a pleasant and uninterrupted journey, she had some misgivings as to my ride across the Plains, and tried at the last to dissuade me, but I was sanguine of the outcome and thoroughly determined to continue, at any odds, a journey so delightfully begun. At eight o'clock, therefore, on the morning of the twenty-second, I returned the parting salute of my wife and friends, and rode away. Turning into North Division street, I went out to Main, down Main to Ohio, and out Ohio to the Buffalo Road. Soon after passing the city limits, I saw Lake Erie, and leaving the highway rode down to the beach and into the water, giving Paul his first drink from the great inland sea, along whose shores we were to spend several days, and in which I and my faithful friend would doubtless quench our thirst many times. After this little diversion I pushed forward for thirteen miles and a half, which brought us to Lake View. After stopping here a few moments I rode on to North Evans. In this little village of something over a hundred inhabitants, my peace was in no wise disturbed and I was able to pass the day in comparative seclusion, thinking over the three days at Buffalo and anticipating the journey to Cleveland.

Forty-fifth Day

Angola, House,Angola, New York,June Twenty-fourth.

The ride from North Evans to Angola was most delightful, carrying me as it did, along the shore of Lake Erie, which for the most part was plainly seen from the turnpike. The exhilarating breeze from over the water was in pleasing contrast to the intense heat which was felt in Central New York, and I found my appetite sharpening under its brisk influence. The eye had a continual feast of lake and field stretching off on either side, and as I rode along enjoying their diverse beauties, my only regret was that I had no companion at this time with whom I might share the pleasure.

To my right lay the shining lake, reflecting every change of cloud and sky; in front the Shore Road, and to my left as far as the eye could reach, rich green fields returning the salutation of sunny June. Easy travelling brought me into Angola in the early morning, as it is only six miles from North Evans. Here an unfortunate circumstance is identified with the name of the town, owing to a serious railroad disaster that occurred some years ago, in which many lives were lost; but one's attention is easily diverted from such thoughts upon entering the town. Several manufactories give it a wide-awake tone, and keep a good share of its five hundred inhabitants busy.

A small stream, known as Big Sister Creek, runs through the place and thence winds its way to the lake, three-quarters of a mile distant. This "Big Sister" adds a pretty touch to the matter-of-fact little village, while its pebbly bed is a charmed spot for young Angolans. Soon after my arrival here, J. S. Parker, formerly of Northern New York, called to see me, and I discovered that he knew many of my old acquaintances in St. Lawrence County. An hour was spent in pleasant conversation with him, during the course of which boyhood days at Gouverneur and along the Oswegatchie were discussed. I strolled about town in the afternoon, looking for "characteristics," and in the evening lectured in the Town Hall, the introduction being made by Leroy S. Oatman.

Forty-sixth and Forty-seventh Days

Eastern Hotel,Dunkirk, New York,June 25 & 26.

The road between Angola and Dunkirk led me through one of the most picturesque and productive counties of the State, which at this time promised well for the haymakers who were busy in their ripened fields. Hitherto the successive and varied scenes along my route had in turn won my admiration, from the pleasant ride across Massachusetts and over the Berkshires to the Mohawk Valley and Western New York, but these grain fields in their golden harvest-time and the glimpses of the lake which the tortuous course of the road now and then afforded, were certainly as lovely as anything I had seen thus far. I had noticed that the haying season was well advanced when I was passing through Central New York, but owing to the retarding influence which a large body of water always exerts over vegetation, it had been delayed here. Fourteen miles through this pretty section of Erie and Chautauqua counties brought me to Dunkirk, where I lectured at Columbus Hall in the evening, and was introduced to my audience by Rev. J. A. Kummer. The following day being Sunday, I had another opportunity of meeting this gentleman, as he kindly accompanied me in the morning to the Methodist Church, of which he was pastor. During the services, in which I found myself very much interested, there was an opportune moment to study a character which I found to be a thoroughly original one. Mr. Kummer was very enthusiastic about the building of a new church which was much needed, and had been trying to fire his parishioners with the zeal which he himself felt. On this particular morning he made an appeal for co-operation and funds, and then asked for a generous offering. The good people of the congregation had hardly warmed to the subject, and their response was rather feeble. Another collection was made with somewhat better results, but still the amount was not raised by half. At last Mr. Kummer, who no doubt believed that the end justified the means, faced his people and said playfully, yet with evident determination, "Now I am going to order the doors bolted, that none may leave the house until this matter is settled!" In less than ten minutes the two thousand dollars necessary was obtained by donation or subscription, and the zealous clergyman looked down upon his people in happy approval. The scene was the most unusual one of the kind which I had ever witnessed, and I was tempted to applaud the generalship which won the situation. Dr. Kummer afterward gave me quite a lively description of his field, in which he had become much interested.

Lying on rising ground just within a little bay, at whose western extremity a lighthouse stands, Dunkirk forms a natural port of refuge in bad weather, and although in comparison with Buffalo its commercial importance seems rather insignificant, there is quite a brisk trade carried on by ship and by rail. Three lines centre here, connecting it with the East and West, and with the coal and oil regions of Pennsylvania, while the incoming and outgoing vessels are continually plying back and forth with their valuable cargoes. In fact, as I soon discovered, my clerical friend was not too severe in demanding a sum for his new church which the people must have been well able to contribute.

Forty-eighth Day

Minton House,Westfield, New York,June Twenty-seventh.

Continued on the Shore Road from Dunkirk, having left that city at ten o'clock in the morning. While stopping a few minutes for dinner at Fredonia, a pretty little village three miles from Dunkirk, I saw for the first time during my journey quite extensive vineyards. The region is famous besides for its garden seeds, hence the people have their share of fruit and vegetables. Found the farmers of this entire section largely engaged in fruit culture, which seems to be a very successful enterprise. Apples and grapes are sent away to other points, and no doubt supply in a measure the breweries and distilleries of Dunkirk. In looking at the handsome vines already borne down by heavy burdens, the thought occurred to me of the corrupt uses to which they would be put, and the havoc they would bring into human lives. The great bunches, not yet ripe, but promising a splendid harvest, looked tempting enough to one who had only seen them on fruit stands, or in market thrown together in unartistic confusion.

Reached Westfield in the evening, having made twenty-two miles for the day. Owing to my late arrival, I saw very little of the place, but understand that it has quite large manufacturing interests, a lively trade, two good schools for its young people: and that unfailing sign of prosperity – a newspaper. I recalled here, another Westfield, many miles away in Massachusetts, which I passed early in May. The two places appeared as unlike as possible, which was due, no doubt, to one being in the "Bay," and the other in the "Empire" State, which some travellers will concede makes quite a difference.

Forty-ninth Day

Haynes House,North-East, Pennsylvania,June Twenty-eighth.

Rode away from Westfield at ten in the morning, halting just beyond the village at the pretty home of W. N. Allen, where I passed a very pleasant half-hour. While looking after the interests of a large farm, Mr. Allen and his family were very much interested in art matters, and showed me several valuable paintings which they had recently purchased. I was delighted to find such refinement and taste, for one is apt to believe that where people are not in direct intercourse with congenial elements, they are apt to lose their interest in the arts. As I looked over their well-kept acres, and model buildings, I thought of the influence such lives must exert over the community in which they are passed. On my way toward North East, I passed again through a fine fruit region, stopping for dinner at a little hamlet known as State Line.