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.
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,