10th—The Captain called me at peep of day, to say I was near my place of landing. I had scarcely time to equip myself before it was necessary to jump ashore, and I soon found myself on the road to Auburn, distant 9 miles—stage fare 25 cents only. The country is rather hilly and stony for easy culture, but tolerably improved. I arrived at Auburn just in time to take stage for Canandaigua, distant 40 miles—fare $1.50, which is an extensive town, but the canal route has drained it of considerable business. Here is located the state prison for the western section of New York—an establishment for the study of Theology, and a handsome building called the Western exchange, for the accommodation of travellers. Twelve of us left here on our stage, myself and another small man sitting outside, which in fine weather, is considered, by universal consent of all stage jokes, the best seat in the coach. Cayuga, nine miles, was our first stage; it is 3 miles above the outlet of the lake, and is a smart village. We here crossed the Lake by a bridge a mile and a quarter long, supported by piles, being one of the longest, but not the handsomest, bridge in the Union. On passing this famous bridge, over which some of us walked, we had a fine view of the South, as far as the eye could reach over this fine expanse of water, which was as clear as chrystal. Three miles further we arrived at Seneca, where is a smart town. Five miles beyond is Waterloo, a considerable place. Our route has been on the Seneca river, affording several fine scites for mills. Nine miles further brought us to the outlet of the Seneca Lake; the last two miles being on the beach at its termination, being in the form of a semi-circle, or half-moon; from which we had a most delightful view of the town of Geneva, which is situated on the Western side, on the declivity of a fine, commanding eminence. We arrived at Geneva, which is second in beauty to any yet seen. After dinner, as the stage did not immediately go, I went to different positions of the town, to look up the delightful Lake, and enjoy, I hope not for the last time, the charming view. Here is located another Theological Seminary, and other public institutions. We left at half past two, and arrived at half past five o'clock. It is situated at the outlet of the lake of the same name, and resembles Geneva, which having just left, bore the palm away from Canandaigua, which is, however, a handsome village, being the county town of Ontario. We stopped at a spacious hotel, from which there is a commanding view of the Lake. I never saw half so much good land in one day; in fact that which we have passed is all good. I did not pass in the whole distance of 50 miles, from Weeds' Basin, a solitary piece of woodland nearer the road than from one quarter to a half mile, and saw very few stumps. This is called the back-woods, out-of-the-world, society, and so on, and I am told it will continue thus to Buffalo, a succession of well-improved farms, with some of them having quite elegant buildings. It is a fact that wood has become scarce. At Canandaigua are two fine churches, two banks, (one too many at least,) two fine hotels, a court-house, jail, large steam-mill, &c. &c. It resembles Princeton, situated principally on one wide street, and is about as large.
Extract No. 6
11th—I was awakened about midnight by the landlord, and informed that the great Western Mail, which was to carry me to Buffalo, was ready, on which I rose, paid my fare—$3—and was crowded as usual, with eight others, into a comfortable stage. I had not much opportunity of seeing the country, but was informed it was as highly improved as what I had seen yesterday. At Avon Post Office we crossed the Genessee, by a substantial covered bridge, and entered upon the Indian reservation, extending three miles, being the first land since leaving Weedsborough, distant 75 miles, which was not improved and thickly inhabited. It is held by a tribe of Senecas, and with the exception of partial clearings, is almost in a state of nature. Le Roy, on our route, is a very sweet place, nearly new. Batavia is the capital of Genessee county, and is a fine town, having much taste about it. After leaving this town, we passed the Tonewanta Creek, and passed Pembroke, at the distance of fourteen miles. This is not much of a place. At 8 miles further, we passed Clarence, pretty much of the same stamp. The country since leaving Batavia to this place, is low meadow land, in the possession of the Pioneers of the land, and looks more like what is generally supposed in my county, to be the appearance of this clime generally, than any I have seen; but there is no mistake about the soil's being good—tho' I should rather suppose it to be unhealthy, as the Natives are very dirty and beastly. After leaving Clarence at the distance of 8 miles, Williamstown makes its appearance. Here is a good water power, on a stream that I did not ascertain the name of, running into the Tonewanta. After leaving this place, the country assumes a fine, rich, pleasant aspect, devoid of trees or stumps, and ornamented with fine, well cultivated farms, with rich waving fields of grain, and elegant orchards in full bloom; but there must be, judging from the number of orchards, no scarcity of fruit in this country. Further, 6 miles—which is short of Buffalo 4 miles—we ascended a considerable eminence, and from the summit, I, for the first time in my life, had an extensive view of king George's dominions in the Western World. Erie was distinctly seen on the left, and Niagara on the right, and the town of Buffalo full in view before us. From this point the road ascends by a beautiful slope in a straight line till we arrived at the town of Buffalo, which we effected about 5 o'clock P. M. I cannot say that I admire the country, speaking generally, for the last forty miles after leaving Batavia—nor do I think it is sufficiently watered, and, by the by, that which I tasted, I never wish to taste more, as it set my bowels in an uproar prodigiously, to my great inconvenience and pain. And now for Buffalo, the Frontier town entirely destroyed during the late war. It is fully as large as Burlington, and finished in the finest style. It has (so it is said,) the finest Court House and house of entertainment in the state—and from viewing them, I have no reason to doubt the saying. The said Inn is the one at which I put up; and the Hall and apartments are really finished and furnished superbly. Yet, like most such houses, the eating is nothing to boast of—and the charges are certainly fine. This place supports six extensive Hotels and a Theatre. There are three Churches—one of which is an ornament to this, and would be to any place. Its situation is certainly pleasant, being at the head of the Great Lake; but nothing to compare with Geneva. Here the Grand Canal terminates by another spacious Basin, filled with boats.
I took a walk, as it was a pleasant evening, the wind blowing fresh up the lake—down to the Buck. But instead of the smooth and beautiful expanse of the Cayuga, Seneca, and Canandaigua, was heard the roar of the Atlantic. The surf dashed against the shore with violence, and the breakers advanced and receded in rapid succession—and it was to me almost irreconcilable that it was nothing but Lake Erie. I counted something like 30 vessels of considerable size at the wharves, for navigating this fresh water sea. And to make the matter short, Buffalo is a brisk and pleasant place. And now, whether I am credited or not, I state it as a fact, independent and absolute—that the distance from Weedsport to Batavia is 100 miles—that it is as thickly settled on each side of the road as far as can be seen, as is the road from New York to Philadelphia, being about the same distance—that the towns and villages are as much finer and neater, as the land is better—and that there are 10 trees and stumps along the latter, where there is one along the former,—and as to scenery, the odds are so much in favor of the former, that I cannot, nor will not, attempt to compare them.
Extract No. 7
I left Buffalo on the 12th in the stage for Niagara Falls, or Manchester, distant from Buffalo twenty-three miles, fare one dollar. For the first time since I set out, I had plenty of room, as there were but six in the stage. We came to Black Rock in one and a half miles—it is a smart place, but never can equal Buffalo. I was here informed that a passage could be procured to Waterloo, in Upper Canada, on the opposite side, whence a stage runs to Chippewa. But as the current flows at the rate of nine miles an hour towards the great falls, I declined the experiment. The canal passes directly by the side of the river, until you arrive at the village of Tontawanto, distant twelve miles, where it takes the creek, by being dammed at its mouth. This place is near the Indian village of the same name, and is truly a low, dirty, and savage-looking town—so the sooner I leave it, the better. Our road has been, and still continues along the banks of the rapid Niagara. But of all the roads I have ever seen, travelled, or heard of, this comes nearer to shaking soul out of body than any other.