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.
At Lockport we took a dearborn for Buffalo, where we were anxious to go, in order to see the union of the canal with Lake Erie. Though a good stage runs between Lockport and the Falls of Niagara, we went in this bad vehicle five miles, to the navigable part of the canal. The road led through the forest, the trees of which had been felled along the canal, and passed over the stumps, so that it was uncommonly rough, especially as it had rained the day before. Arrived at length at the navigable part of the canal, we took passage on board a rather bad boat, where nothing was to be had but the common cordial, whiskey. The village where we went on board, is called Cottensburgh, and is quite a new settlement. At this place also the canal is cut through rocks to the depth of about thirty feet. About two or three miles farther on, it terminates in the Tonnawanta Creek, which serves as a canal for twelve miles. This creek has scarcely any outlet, so that when it rises much, they are obliged to protect the canal by means of safety-locks near its union with the creek. At the outlet of the creek into the Niagara is a sluice for the purpose of keeping the water always at a certain height. The creek itself is about fifty yards wide, and runs through a dense and beautiful forest, which has never been touched by the axe, except along the canal, where they have been obliged to make a tow-path. I sat in the bow of the boat during the whole passage. Nothing interrupted the solemn silence, except the chattering of the boatmen’s teeth, who are often severely affected in this unhealthy part of the country, with the intermittent fever. Another small river, called Eleven-mile Creek, unites with the main river, and not far from this junction was the site for the new town of Tonnawanta. A few small houses and a saw-mill were already erected; the inhabitants appeared also to suffer much from the intermittent fever. Here the Tonnawanta Creek, unites with the Niagara, where the sluice which we have just mentioned leads off. At this place also we had the first view of the Niagara river, which conveys the waters of Lake Erie into Lake Ontario, from the other extremity of which flows the St. Lawrence. In the river we observed Grand Island, which contains about one thousand one hundred acres, is overgrown with timber, and belongs to a New York editor, Moses Mordecai Noah, a Jew, who purchased it for the purpose of establishing a Jewish colony. The soil is very good; during the late war between England and the United States, the Niagara, it is well known, formed the boundary line between them and the British provinces of Upper Canada, and this island bore testimony of the bloody conflict. From this place, the canal runs along the bank of the Niagara, from which it is separated only by a small bank, built rather carelessly, and several feet above the level of the river, which is already somewhat rapid on account of its vicinity to the falls. On the Tonnawanta Creek we saw several canoes which were made by excavating the trunks of trees. From Tonnawanta to Buffalo it is eight miles, five of which we travelled on the canal as far as Black Rock. A basin is formed here by means of a dam situated near Squaw Island, on which is a lock communicating with the Niagara. The whole of this work is of wood, and cannot therefore be expected to be very durable. In the basin lay the new steam-boat Henry Clay, of three hundred tons, intended for running on Lake Erie. We had here the first view of the lake, whose shore appeared to be overgrown with wood. The other shore of course we could not see, and it seemed therefore as though we were looking into an expanded sea. The canal to Buffalo not being completed, we again took stage at Black Rock, and rode three miles to the former town, where we arrived at about 5 o’clock at evening, and took lodgings at the Mansion House, pleasantly situated on a little eminence in the lake.
Buffalo was burnt during the late war, by the British, but it has arisen from its ashes with increased beauty. The town contains about five thousand inhabitants, and will, in consequence of its situation near the mouth of the canal and its harbour, at which they are hard at work, soon become an important place. At the entrance of the harbour is a light-house, and on the lake we observed several schooners of about three hundred tons. A steam-boat, called the Superior, was ready to start with fifty passengers to Erie, and thence to Detroit. In the streets, we saw some tolerably well-dressed Indians of the Seneca tribe, who have their wigwam three miles distant. Amongst them were several women, who indeed, but for their complexion, might have been considered handsome. We also had an amusing military spectacle. It consisted of a militia parade, consisting of thirty men, including seven officers and two cornets. They were formed, like a battalion, into six divisions, and performed a number of manœuvres. The members were not all provided with muskets, but had ramrods instead. Only the officers and the rifle-company, four men strong, were in uniform. The band consisted of sixteen men, and was commanded by an officer with a colonel’s epaulets and drawn sword!
On the following day, 21st of August, we left Buffalo for the small village of Manchester, twenty-three miles distant, and situated on the right bank of the Niagara, near the falls. As far as the village of Tonnawanta the road passed along the canal. It was in a very bad condition, cut through the forest, and no pains have been taken to remove the trees, which are thrown on the road side, and the most beautiful trunks are permitted to spoil in a pitiable manner. On the left we had a view of the river and of Grand-Island, thickly studded with timber. The river is more than one mile wide below the island. On the Canada side is the village of Chippewa. From this place, a distance of three miles, we could already see the rising vapours of the falls. The water, however, indicated no signs of the approach to the precipice. It is only a short distance from Manchester, where you perceive the lofty trees on Goat-Island with its heights, situated in the midst of the falls, that the river becomes rocky, and the rapids commence; these form a number of small falls, which are nearly a mile long and the same in breadth, running as far as where the two great falls are separated by Goat-Island.
At Manchester, we took lodgings at the Eagle Tavern, and hastened immediately to the Falls: our steps were guided by their mighty roaring. In a few moments we stood near the precipice, and saw before us the immense mass of water which rushes with a tremendous noise into the frightful abyss below. It is impossible to describe the scene, and the pen is too feeble to delineate the simultaneous feelings of insignificance and grandeur which agitate the human breast at the sight of this stupendous work of nature! We can only gaze, admire, and adore. The rocks on both sides are perpendicular, but there is a wooden staircase which leads to the bed of the river. We descended, but in consequence of the drizzly rain which is produced by the foam of the water, we had by no means so fine a prospect from below as we anticipated. On this account, therefore, we soon ascended and satisfied ourselves by looking from above upon this sublime and majestic sight. As we returned, full of these mighty impressions, to the Eagle Tavern we found to our great joy a fine opportunity of speaking of the grandeur and magnificence we had just beheld. Lieutenants De Goer and Van Vloten, of the Pallas, had just arrived to render homage to this great natural curiosity.
In company with these gentlemen we took a walk to Goat-Island, by a convenient wooden bridge, thrown over the rapids about seven years since. The first bridge leads to a small island called Bath-Island, which contains a bath-house and billiard-room: the second to Goat-Island, which is about one mile in circumference, and overgrown with old and
