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called the West Canada Creek, falls down a deep ravine over successive
ledges of rock, in six small cascades of great beauty. The highest is only
fifty feet high. The sides of the ravine are precipitous, and covered with the
beautiful foliage of numerous trees. Among them are many evergreen trees
—of these I remarked the stately white pine, which grows over one hundred
feet high and perfectly straight; the red pine, with its dark green leaves, and
yellow cones; the black spruce and the lofty birch. The rocks are slate and
transition lime stone of the silurian series, abounding with petrifaction, of
which many are perfect trilobites. Quartz crystals are also found here in
great beauty and profusion. This place has been the scene of some tragic
events—one of them most pitiable. A young girl sat out upon a pleasure
tour, accompanied by her mother, father, and affianced husband. They came
to this place, no warning spirit pressing them back, no drear omen warning
them away, and no dream or presentment checking their steps. Gaily they
descended the stairs, and clambered the rocks—the lover with the hand of
his betrothed in his; the father and mother behind. Being thus led along, did
not accord with her playful spirit, and telling him she could take care of
herself, she in an evil moment withdrew her hand. His charge to be careful
was answered by smiling asseverations of her sure-footedness; he turned
with another admonition and she was gone! Where is she? He looks in
every direction. She has hid herself in play; he calls; no answer but the
torrents roar; she has rejoined her parents; he turns towards them and sees
them quietly reposing together upon a rock. His pallid look—his wildness,
as rooted to the spot, he gazes upon them, tells them the tale of woe, soon
bitterly confirmed by her pretty bonnet of straw, which was at that moment
whirled past their feet. Oh, the agony of those hearts as they stood beside
that dark torrent, away from all help, and powerless to save their beloved
one. The guide was despatched to the village for help, but not until three
days after was she found a mile below; her tender form having been thus far
carried over rocks and whirlpools.
Another family party came to view these scenes. A tender girl of eleven
years was for security consigned to the valet’s arms. One false step plunged
him into the torrent—he struggled to the shore, but the parent’s pretty
fondling was lost to them in life. The body was the next day found.
As I stood upon the slippery rock, while these events were floating
through my memory, their scenes pointed out to me by the guide; the place
lost all its beauty, and the dashing torrent seemed some huge monster,
seeking whom he might suck beneath his horrid depths. I grew nervous, and
much to my companions surprise, begged him to return. He, rejoicing in the
fresh country air, and released from the city’s dust, ran over the rocks with,
to me, an alarming quickness, and I turned to depart. Why these beloved
ones should be thus snatched away from their fond relatives; taken from
their homes to find their death in this wild spot, is to us unknown. He who
commanded this, has purposes, to us unscrutable; perhaps it was to read a
lesson to those who hear the tale, to teach them the uncertain hold they have
upon life, and all its pleasures, and to fear that power which can in an
unlooked for moment, bear them from life to eternity. There are hundreds
every season who stand upon this spot, and hear this story, and the heart
which is not affected by it must be as the hearts of the petrified animals
around them.
We spent several days here, riding and walking among the romantic
scenery.
The village of Trenton Falls is a small one, containing a few shops, and
cottages and two churches, one of which is quite pretty. The ride towards
Utica is very beautiful. The ground descends on each side to the Mohawk
valley, and while our road wound down this side, we had the whole slope of
the other side before our eyes, covered with orchards and fields, and dotted
with villages. The town of Clinton with Hamilton college, stands upon
elevated ground, while, below, at the river’s brink is spread the city of
Utica. Here we spent a day looking about its streets and shops. The ground
slopes down to the river, near which are the business streets, while most of
the dwelling houses are upon the more airy and elevated portion of the city.
Genessee street is a fine wide avenue leading up the hill, lined upon each
side with shops, hotels, churches, libraries, museums, &c. The canal is here
crossed by a pretty bridge. The houses were substantially built, surrounded,
many of them, by gardens, and appeared very comfortable residences. The
business part of the city show rows of well built ware-houses, and were
filled with people and carts passing to and fro, as if their trade was an active
one and their city thriving. The Erie canal has brought much trade to this
place, which now is one of the most flourishing inland towns in the State.
The canal boats, stages, and rail trains which are constantly arriving and
departing give a stirring appearance to the place. Religion, education, and
literature, engage the attention of the inhabitants who support sixteen
churches, and many seminaries and literary institutions. The population in
1835, was 10,183, to which now of course, several thousands must be
added. It is situated in Oneida County, which was selected by the celebrated
Baron Steuben as his retreat, and here he was buried.
June 21st.—We left Utica to-day in the three o’clock train for Auburn.
About four miles from the city we passed a small town called
Whitesborough, a pretty place, with two churches, an academy, and a
building called the Oneida Institute. There is also here a manual labor
school. A large unfinished building just outside of Utica, we learned was to
be a lunatic asylum, calculated to accommodate one thousand patients—
God pity them.
Several pretty towns lay upon our route: as Rome, Manlius, Canastola,
etc. Sweet retreats from the confusion of a city without the solitude of the
country. The canal and railroad which run through or near these towns
present facilities for trade or travelling. Rome is a place of considerable
importance, containing five churches, a court house, academy, several shops
and dwellings. The population, five years since, amounted to 4,800. When
arrived at Syracuse we drove up to a large good looking stone building
bearing the name of Syracuse House. There we stopped to take tea. This
place is sixty miles from Utica: enjoys considerable trade, but is still in its
teens, having arisen since the canal passed through that part of the country.
The Oswego canal joins the Erie here, which, with the salt works near,
brings them much business. The population is 7,000. We observed in
passing through it, several good churches, a pretty court house, substantial
ware houses, numerous shops and dwellings, with a lyceum and high
school, so that it would seem the inhabitants ought to be wealthy, refined,
and well educated. The salt springs are at Salina, one mile and a half from
Syracuse, where there are eighty manufactories of this material. These salt
springs flow from beds of slate, in some places two hundred feet thick.
Among the layers are masses of vermicular rock, whose interstices are
supposed once to have been filled with salt. In this region of country are
extensive gypsum beds; water lime is also found in profusion. Sandstone,
generally old red, and lime-stones, are the prevailing formations of the
county.
It was a beautiful evening when we left Syracuse. The sky, every where
of a clear deep blue, paled gradually as it approached the west, where it was
lost in a rich golden glow. The spires of the town behind us, reflected this
brilliant hue, and the country as we passed, looked like one of Turner’s one
colored pictures. Onondaga lake with the pretty village reposing upon its
shore, and the rich fields around it, were all touched with this golden pencil.
The fields were strewn with salt vats, where the salt was undergoing
evaporation, which were covered with low sheds, probably taken off in the
morning, as it was now late Saturday afternoon, and this might have been to
protect them from the weather. It was quite dark when we reached Auburn.
We left the cars at the railroad depot, and were provided with carriages to
the American Hotel. Here, large commodious bed rooms, and luxurious
mattresses, received your weary friends. I lingered a while to write you the
events of the day, but must now hasten to bid you—adieu.
June 27th.—I could not have believed parting with Niagara would have
caused such sorrow. The lofty, and celestial emotions which are produced
when in the presence of this one of God’s most beautiful creations you are
unwilling to lose. You feel ‘it is good to be here’—and you dread to leave
this holy ground to enter again into scenes which will do much to efface
these pure emotions. A glimpse of heaven has been vouchsafed you, and
most reluctantly you return to earth again. Slowly we sat out this morning
to take a last farewell. We had seen it in all its brightness and we now