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
