Of the works thrown up at Saratoga, during the war, by the British and American armies, there were now scarcely any remains. The country around was well cultivated, and most of the trenches had been levelled by the plough. Mr. Weld here crossed the Hudson River, and proceeded, for some distance, along its eastern sh.o.r.e. After this the road was most wretched, particularly over a long causeway, which had been formed originally for the transporting of cannon. This causeway consisted of large, trees laid side by side. Some of them being decayed, great intervals were left, in which the wheels of the carriage were sometimes locked so fast, that the horses alone could not possibly extricate them.

The woods on each side of the road had a much more majestic appearance than any that Mr. Weld had seen since he had left Philadelphia. This, however, was owing more to the great height than to the thickness of the trees, for he could not see one that appeared more than thirty inches in diameter. The trees here were chiefly oaks, hiccory, hemlock, and beech; intermixed with which appeared great numbers of smooth-barked, or Weymouth pines. A profusion of wild raspberries were growing in the woods.

After having experienced almost inconceivable difficulty, in consequence of the badness of the road; and having occupied five hours in travelling only twelve miles, Mr. Weld arrived at _Skenesborough_. This is a little town, which stands near the southern extremity of Lake Champlain. It consisted, at this time, of only twelve houses, and was dreadfully infested with musquitoes, a large kind of gnats, which abound in the swampy parts of all hot countries. Such myriads of these insects attacked Mr. Weld, the first night of his sleeping there, that, when he rose in the morning, his face and hands were covered with large pustules, like those of a person in the small-pox. The situation of Skenesborough, on the margin of a piece of water which is almost stagnant, and which is shaded by thick woods, is peculiarly favourable to the increase of these insects.

Shortly after their arrival in Skenesborough, Mr. Weld, and two gentlemen by whom he was accompanied, hired a boat of about ten tons burden, for the purpose of crossing _Lake Champlain_. The vessel sailed at one o'clock in the day; but, as the channel was narrow, and the wind adverse, they were only able to proceed about six miles before sunset.

Having brought the vessel to an anchor, the party landed and walked to some adjacent farm-houses, in the hope of obtaining provisions; but they were not able to procure any thing except milk and cheese. The next day they reached _Ticonderoga_. Here the only dwelling was a tavern, a large house built of stone. On entering it, the party was shown into a s.p.a.cious apartment, crowded with boatmen and other persons, who had just arrived from St. John's in Canada. The man of the house was a judge; a sullen, demure old gentleman, who sate by the fire, with tattered clothes and dishevelled locks, reading a book, and was totally regardless of every person in the house.

The old fort and barracks of Ticonderoga, are on the top of a rising ground, just behind the tavern: they were at this time in ruins, and it is not likely that they ever will be rebuilt; for the situation is a very insecure one, being commanded by a lofty hill, called Mount Defiance. During the great American war, the British troops obtained possession of this place, by dragging cannon and mortars up the hill, and firing down upon the fort.

Mr. Weld and his friends, on leaving Ticonderoga, pursued their voyage to _Crown Point_: Here they landed to inspect the old fort. Nothing, however, was to be seen but a heap of ruins; for, shortly before it was surrendered by the British troops, the powder-magazine blew up, and a great part of the works was destroyed; and, since the final evacuation of the place, the people of the neighbourhood have been continually digging in different parts, in the hope of procuring lead and iron shot.

At the south side only the ditches remain perfect: they are wide and deep, and are cut through immense rocks of limestone; and, from being overgrown, towards the top, with different kinds of shrubs, they have a grand and picturesque appearance.

While the party were here, they were agreeably surprised with the sight of a large birch-canoe, upon the lake, navigated by two or three Indians, in the dresses of their nation. These made for the sh.o.r.e, and soon landed; and, shortly afterwards, another party arrived, that had come by land.

_Lake Champlain_ is about one hundred and twenty miles in length, and is of various breadths: for the first thirty miles it is, in no place, more than two miles wide; beyond this, for the distance of twelve miles, it is five or six miles across; but it afterwards narrows, and again, at the end of a few miles, expands. That part called the _Broad Lake_, because broader than any other, is eighteen miles across. Here the lake is interspersed with a great number of islands. The soundings of Lake Champlain are, in general, very deep; in many places they are sixty and seventy, and in some even one hundred fathoms in depth.

The scenery, along the sh.o.r.es of the lake, is extremely grand and picturesque; particularly beyond Crown Point. Here they are beautifully ornamented with hanging woods and rocks; and the mountains, on the western side, rise in ranges one behind another, in the most magnificent manner possible.

Crossing from the head of Lake Champlain, westward to the river St.

Lawrence, we shall describe the places adjacent to that river, and some of the north-western parts of the state of New York, in

_A Narrative of_ LIEUTENANT HALL'S _Journey from Canada to the Cataract of Niagara._

Mr. Hall had travelled from Montreal, in Canada, to Prescott, in a stage-waggon, which carried the mail; and he says that he can answer for its being one of the roughest conveyances on either side of the Atlantic.

The face of the country is invariably flat; and settlements have not, hitherto, spread far from the banks of the _St. Lawrence_.

_Prescott_ is remarkable for nothing but a square redoubt, or fort, called Fort Wellington. The accommodations at this place were so bad that Mr. Hall, at midnight, seated himself in a light waggon, in which two gentlemen were proceeding to Brockville. These gentlemen afterwards offered him a pa.s.sage to Kingston, in a boat belonging to the British navy, which was waiting for them at _Brockville_.

The banks of the river St. Lawrence, from the neighbourhood of Brockville, are of limestone, and from twenty to fifty feet in height.

Immense ma.s.ses of reddish granite are also scattered along the bed of the stream, and sometimes project from the sh.o.r.e. The numerous islands which crowd the approach to _Lake Ontario_, have all a granite basis: they are clothed with cedar and pine-trees, and with an abundance of raspberry plants. The bed of the _Gananoqua_ is also of granite. This river is rising into importance, from the circ.u.mstance of a new settlement being formed, under the auspices of the British government, on the waters with which it communicates.

This settlement lies at the head of the lakes of the _Rideau_, and, in case of another American war, is meant to secure a communication betwixt Montreal and Kingston, by way of the Utawa. The settlers are chiefly disbanded soldiers, who clear and cultivate the land, under the superintendance of officers of the quarter-master-general's department.

A ca.n.a.l has been cut to avoid the falls of the Rideau; and the communication, either by the Gananoqua, or Kingston, will be improved by locks. _Kingston_, which is within the Canadian dominions, is admirably situated for naval purposes.

The basis of the soil on which this town is situated is limestone, disposed in horizontal strata. Kingston contains some good houses and stores; a small theatre, built by the military, for private theatricals; a large wooden government house, and all the appendages of an extensive military and naval establishment; with as much society as can reasonably be expected, in a town but lately created from the "howling desert." The adjacent country is flat, stony, and barren. Mr. Hall says that fleets of ships occasionally lie off Kingston, several of which are as large as any on the ocean. Vessels of large dimensions were at this time building, on the spot where, a few months before, their frame-timbers had been growing.

Mr. Hall left Kingston, in a packet, for the American station of _Sackett's harbour_. This, after Kingston, has a mean appearance: its situation is low, its harbour is small, and its fortifications are of very different construction, both as to form and materials, from those of the former town. The navy-yard consists merely of a narrow tongue of land, the point of which affords just s.p.a.ce sufficient for the construction of one first-rate vessel; with room for work-shops, and stores, on the remaining part of it. One of the largest vessels in the world, was at this time on the stocks. The town consists of a long street, in the direction of the river, with a few smaller streets crossing it at right angles: it covers less ground than Kingston, and has fewer good houses; but it has an advantage which Kingston does not possess, in a broad flagged footway.

The distance from Sackett's harbour to _Watertown_ is about ten miles.

This is an elegant village on the _Black River_. It contains about twelve hundred inhabitants, chiefly emigrants from New England. The houses are, for the most part, of wood, but tastefully finished; and a few are built of bricks.

At Watertown there was a good tavern, which afforded to Mr. Hall and his companions a luxury unusual in America, a private sitting-room, and dinner at an hour appointed by themselves. Within a few miles of Watertown the country rises boldly, and presents a refreshing contrast, of hill and valley, to the flat, heavy woods, through which they had been labouring from Sackett's harbour.

_Utica_, the town at which the travellers next arrived stands on the right bank of the _River Mohawk_, over which it is approached by a covered wooden bridge, of considerable length. The appearance of this town is highly prepossessing: the streets are s.p.a.cious; the houses are large and well built; and the stores, the name given to shops throughout America, are as well supplied, and as handsomely fitted up, as those of New York or Philadelphia.

There are at Utica two hotels, on a large scale; one of which, the York House, was equal in arrangement and accommodation, to any hotel beyond the Atlantic: it was kept by an Englishman from Bath. The inhabitants, from three to four thousand in number, maintained four churches: one episcopal, one presbyterian, and two Welsh.

This town is laid out on a very extensive scale. A small part of it only is yet completed; but little doubt is entertained that ten years will accomplish the whole. Fifteen years had not pa.s.sed since there was here no other trace of habitation than a solitary log-house, built for the occasional reception of merchandise, on its way down the Mohawk. The overflowing population of New England, fixing its exertions on a new and fertile soil, has, within a few years, effected this change.

Independently of its soil, Utica has great advantages of situation; for it is nearly at the point of junction betwixt the waters of the lakes and of the Atlantic.

With Utica commences a succession of flourishing villages and settlements, which renders this tract of country the astonishment of travellers. That so large a portion of the soil should, in less than twenty years, have been cleared, brought into cultivation, and have acquired a numerous population, is, in itself, sufficiently surprising; but the surprise is considerably increased, when we consider the character of elegant opulence with which it every where smiles on the eye. Each village teems, like a hive, with activity and employment. The houses, taken in the ma.s.s, are on a large scale; for (except the few primitive log-huts that still survive) there is scarcely one below the appearance of an opulent London tradesman's country box. They are, in general, of wood, painted white, with green doors and shutters; and with porches, or verandas, in front.

The travellers pa.s.sed through _Skaneactas_, a village, pleasantly situated, at the head of the lake from which it is named. They then proceeded to _Cayuga_, which, besides its agreeable site, is remarkable for a bridge, nearly a mile in length, over the head of the Cayuga lake: it is built on piles, and level. Betwixt Cayuga and Geneva is the flourishing little village of _Waterloo_, formed since the battle so named. _Geneva_ contains many elegant houses, beautifully placed, on the rising sh.o.r.e, at the head of the Geneva lake.

From Geneva to _Canandaigua_, a tract of hill and vale extends, for sixteen miles, and having (within that s.p.a.ce) only two houses.

Canandaigua is a town of villas, built on the rising sh.o.r.e of the _Canandaigua lake_. The lower part of the main street is occupied by stores and warehouses; but the upper part of it, to the length of nearly two miles, consists of ornamented cottages, tastefully finished with colonnades, porches, and verandas; and each within its own garden or pleasure-ground. The prospect, down this long vista, to the lake, is peculiarly elegant.

From Canandaigua the travellers turned from the main road, nine miles, south-west, to visit what is called "_the burning spring_." On arriving near the place, they entered a small but thick wood, of pine and maple-trees, enclosed within a narrow ravine. Down this glen, the width of which, at its entrance, may be about sixty yards, trickles a scanty streamlet. They had advanced on its course about fifty yards, when, close under the rocks of the right bank, they perceived a bright red flame, burning briskly on the water. Pieces of lighted wood were applied to different adjacent spots, and a s.p.a.ce of several yards in extent was immediately in a blaze. Being informed by the guide that a repet.i.tion of this phenomenon might be seen higher up the glen, they scrambled on, for about a hundred yards, and, directed in some degree by a strong smell of sulphur, they applied their match to several places, with similar effect. These fires continue burning unceasingly, unless they are extinguished by accident. The phaenomenon was originally discovered by the casual rolling of lighted embers, from the top of the bank, whilst some persons were clearing it for cultivation; and, in the intensity and duration of the flame, it probably exceeds any thing of the kind that is known.

_Rochester_ stands immediately on the great falls of the Genesee, about eight miles above its entrance into lake Ontario. When Mr. Hall was here, this town had been built only four years, yet it contained a hundred good houses, furnished with all the conveniences of life; several comfortable taverns, a cotton-mill, and some large corn-mills.

Its site is grand. The Genesee rushes through it, over a bed of limestone, and precipitates itself down three ledges of rock, ninety-three; thirty, and seventy-six feet in height, within the distance of a mile and a half from the town. The immediate vicinity of Rochester is still an unbroken forest, consisting of oak, hickory, ash, beech, ba.s.s, elm, and walnut-trees. The wild tenants of the woods have, naturally, retired before the sound of cultivation; but there are a few wolves and bears still in the neighbourhood. One of the latter had lately seized a pig close to the town. Rac.o.o.ns, porcupines, squirrels black and grey, and foxes, are still numerous. The hogs have done good service in destroying the rattlesnakes, which are already becoming rare.

Pigeons, quails, and blackbirds abound. At Rochester, the line of settled country, in this direction, terminates; for, from this place to Lewistown, are eighty miles of wilderness.

The traveller, halting on the verge of these aboriginal shades, is inclined to pause in thought, and to consider the interesting scenes through which he has been pa.s.sing. They are such as reason must admire, for they are the result of industry, temperance, and freedom. Five or ten, or, at the utmost, twenty years before Mr. Hall was in America, where there are now corn-fields, towns, and villages, the whole country was one ma.s.s of forest.

Notwithstanding the bad state of the roads, the stage-waggon runs from Rochester to Lewistown in two days. This journey is so heavy, that it is sometimes necessary to alight, and walk several miles, or to suffer almost a dislocation of limbs, in jolting over causeys or logged roads, formed of pine, or oak-trees, laid crossways. At different intervals, square patches seem cut out of the forest, in the centre of which low log-huts have been constructed, without the aid of saw or plane; and are surrounded by stumps of trees, black with the fires kindled for the purpose of clearing the land.

_Lewistown_ was one of the frontier villages burnt during the last war, to retaliate upon the Americans for the destruction of Newark. It has, however, been since rebuilt, and all the marks of its devastation have been effaced. It is agreeably situated, at the foot of the limestone ridge, on the steep bank of the river St. Lawrence, which here rushes, with a boiling and eddying torrent, from the falls to Lake Ontario.

Lewistown, notwithstanding its infancy, and its remote situation, contains several good stores.

_Queenston_, on the opposite side of the river, stands in the midst of corn-fields and farm-houses; a rare and interesting sight in Canada. It is built on the river's edge, at the foot of the heights. Before the late war it was embosomed in peach-orchards; but these were all felled, to aid the operations of the English troops. The heights are still crowned by a redoubt, and by the remains of batteries, raised to defend the pa.s.sage of the river. It was near one of these that Sir Isaac Brocke was killed, on the 13th of October, 1812, while, with four hundred men, he gallantly opposed the landing of fifteen hundred Americans, the whole of whom were afterwards captured by gGeneral Sheaffe.

From Queenston Mr. Hall proceeded to _York_, a town within the British territory, situated on the north-western bank of lake Ontario. The country through which he pa.s.sed abounded in game of various kinds. From the head of the lake it was, however, less varied than on the Niagara frontiers; and, for many miles, it was an uniform tract of sandy barrens, unsusceptible of culture.

York, being the seat of government for Upper Canada, is a place of considerable importance in the eyes of its inhabitants. To a stranger, however, it presents little more than about one hundred wooden houses, several of them conveniently, and even elegantly built; one or two of brick. The public buildings were destroyed by the Americans.

From York, Mr. Hall went, through the little town of _Ancaster_, to visit a _Settlement of Mohawk Indians_, on the banks of the _Grand River_. In the American war the Mohawks were strongly attached to the British interest, and first followed Sir William Johnson in Canada, under their chieftain, a celebrated warrior, whose name was Brandt. This man accustomed his people to the arts of civilized life, and made farmers of them. He built a church, and himself translated one of the gospels into the Mohawk language. His grave is to be seen under the walls of his church. The son of this extraordinary Indian is now living, and is a fine young man, of gentlemanly manners and appearance: he both speaks and writes the English language with correctness; and he dresses nearly in the English fashion. Brandt left also a daughter, who is living, and who would not disgrace the fashionable circles of Europe.

Her face and person are fine and graceful: she speaks English, not only correctly, but elegantly; and, both in her speech and manners, she has a softness approaching oriental languor. She retains so much of her national dress as to identify her with her people; over whom she affects no superiority, but with whom she seems pleased to preserve all the ties and duties of relationship. She held the infant of one of her relations at the font, on the Sunday that Mr. Hall visited the church at Ancaster.

The usual church and baptismal service was performed by a Dr. Aaron, an Indian, and an a.s.sistant priest; the congregation consisted of sixty or seventy persons, male and female. Many of the young men were dressed in the English fashion, but several of the old warriors came with their blankets, folded over them; and, in this dress, with a step and mien of quiet energy, they forcibly reminded Mr. Hall of ancient Romans. Some of them wore large silver crosses, medals, and other trinkets, on their backs and b.r.e.a.s.t.s; and a few had bandeaus, ornamented with feathers. Dr.

Aaron, a grey-headed Mohawk, had touched his cheeks and forehead with a few spots of vermilion, in honour of Sunday: he wore a surplice, and preached at considerable length; but his delivery was unimpa.s.sioned and monotonous.

The Mohawk village stands on a little plain, and looks down upon the Grand River. The houses of the inhabitants, built of logs, rudely put together, exhibit, externally, a great appearance of neglect and want of comfort: some few are in a better condition. The house belonging to Brandt's family resembled that of a petty English farmer: Dr. Aaron's was neat and clean. The doctor, who had been regularly ordained, and spoke very good English, told Mr. Hall that the village had been much injured by the wars, which had impeded its improvements, and had dispersed the inhabitants over the country.

Mr. Hall had little opportunity of observing the manners and character of these Indians. It may, however, be conjectured that European intercourse is fast obliterating the characteristic features of their former social system. Their increased knowledge of European arts and enjoyments, has been probably followed by a proportionate increase of wants and desires. Their manners seemed, to Mr. Hall, remarkable for nothing so much as for that quiet self-possession, which const.i.tutes the reverse of vulgarity. Their women, before strangers, are extremely timid: most of those who lived at a distance from the church, came mounted, with their husbands walking by their sides; a symptom, perhaps, that the s.e.x is rising among them into an European equality of rights and enjoyments. The whole of the settlements are reckoned to furnish about five hundred warriors to the British government.

Mr. Hall next describes the celebrated _Cataract_ or _Falls of Niagara_.

At the distance of about a mile from this cataract, a white cloud, hovering over the trees, indicates its situation: it is not, however, until the road emerges from a close country, into the s.p.a.ce of open ground immediately in its vicinity, that white volumes of foam are seen, as if boiling up from a sulphureous gulph. Here a foot-path turns from the road, towards a wooded cliff. The rapids are beheld on the right, rushing for the s.p.a.ce of a mile, like a tempestuous sea. A narrow tract descends about sixty feet down the cliff, and continues across a plashy meadow, through a copse, enc.u.mbered with ma.s.ses of limestone. Beyond this, Mr. Hall found himself upon what is called the Table Rock, on the west side of the upper part of the cataract, at the very point where the river precipitates itself into the abyss. The rapid motion of the waters, the stunning noise, and the mounting clouds, almost persuade the startled senses, that the rock itself is tottering, and is on the point of being precipitated into the gulph, which swallows the ma.s.s of descending waters. He bent over it, to mark the clouds rolling white beneath him, as in an inverted sky, illuminated by a most brilliant rainbow; one of those features of softness which nature delights to pencil amid her wildest scenes, tempering her awfulness with beauty, and making even her terrors lovely.

There is a ladder about half a mile below the Table Rock; and, by this, Mr. Hall descended the cliff, to reach the foot of the fall. There was formerly much difficulty in the descent, but a few years have made a great change: the present dangers and difficulties may easily be enumerated. The first is, the ordinary hazard that every one runs who goes up or down a ladder: this ladder is a very good one, of thirty steps, or about forty feet; and, from it, the path is a rough one, over the fragments and ma.s.ses of rock which have gradually crumbled, or have been forcibly riven, from the cliff, and which cover a broad declining s.p.a.ce, from its foot to the brink of the river. The only risk, in this part of the pilgrimage, is that of a broken shin from a false step. The path gradually becomes smooth as it advances towards the cataract. Mr.

Hall, as he drew near, says that he felt a sensation of awe, like that caused by the first cannon, on the morning of a battle. He pa.s.sed, from sunshine, into gloom and tempest. The spray beat down in a heavy rain; a violent wind rushed from behind the sheet of water: it was difficult to respire, and, for a moment, it seemed temerity to encounter the convulsive workings of the elements, and to intrude into the dark dwellings of their power. But the danger is in appearance only: it is possible to penetrate only a few yards beyond the curtain, and, in these few, there is no hazard; the footing is good, and the s.p.a.ce is sufficiently broad and free. There is even no necessity for a guide: the eyes amply suffice to point out all that is to be seen or avoided.

During Mr. Hall's first visit, there were two young American ladies on the same errand; and they, as well as himself, were drenched in the cloud of spray.

The larger fall was formerly called the "Horse-shoe," but this name is no longer applicable; for its shape has become that of an acute angle.

An officer, who had been stationed in the neighbourhood thirty years, pointed out to Mr. Hall the alteration which had taken place in the centre of the fall, and which he estimated at about eighteen feet in that time.