We arrived at Cayuga about ten o'clock, when I was obliged to wait for the Ithaca steamboat, which plies up and down the lake daily. It did not arrive until I had ample time to look round and enjoy the interesting place. On board the steamboat I had the most interesting passage for about twenty-five miles that can well be imagined. The scenery on either side of the lake is indeed beautiful. The land rises with a gradual slope from the water's edge, until it attains the height of perhaps 600 feet, when it becomes pleasantly uneven. Farms in high state of cultivation, add greatly to the beauty of the prospect. Ten miles from our starting place we passed the village of Aurora on our left. It is one of the sweetest little spots that can possibly be imagined, and reminded me of Moore's description of some of the eastern Cashmerian villas. At night I was put ashore at Keeder's Ferry, a wretched place, twenty-five miles from Cayuga.
On the morning of the 19th I crossed the beautiful lake in a skiff. Its bosom was smooth as a mirror, and the water clear as the surrounding atmosphere. The lake is here three miles wide; and for the whole distance it seemed as if we were suspended in the very air. On the 20th, after having visited a relative in Northville, about two miles from the spot where I crossed, I got into the stage for Ithaca, distance twenty-one miles, fare seventy-five cents. For the first four miles the country is fine; it then becomes stony, hilly, and less productive. The village of Ludlow, distant ten miles from Northville, is situated in a very deep hollow, through which runs a mountain stream of singular beauty, and creating a fine water power. It makes a perpendicular pitch of about fifty feet, just above the village, and has a very wild and angry appearance. Ludlow is a charming place, possessing a most captivating society. Here are several mills; and, though situated as it were, in the depths, and entirely out of the way, it does considerable business. After leaving this place, it was nothing but up and down hill until we reached Ithaca. Just before we entered the town, we passed a very wild water fall of sixty feet, produced by the Fall Creek emptying into the lake.
Ithaca is situated at the head of Cayuga lake, surrounded on three sides by high hills, and ranks at least second in point of business, and fourth in size, among the towns of this western world. But it never can become a handsome place. It has a valuable water power from Fall Creek, already occupied by several mills and factories. The village is about as large as Trenton, and appears to be growing rapidly.
On the 21st, at daylight, I left Ithaca in the New York line, crammed as usual, with eight others in the coach. Immediately after leaving Ithaca, we ascended a hill nine hundred feet in height, and, strange as it may seem, we entered a hollow, and descended all the way to Owego, distance twenty-nine miles, with uncultivated hills on both sides. The land in this narrow valley appeared tolerably good, but principally in the hands of pioneers. We reached Owego, the capital of Broome County, at 11 o'clock. It is handsomely situated on the Susquehanna, which is here crossed by a bridge, and is a thriving little place. We now crossed the river, and started for Montrose, distant thirty-one miles—and now I may safely say we arrived at the back woods. All that appears to have been done here by man, is the making of a very bad road up and down tremendous hills—the rest is nature in her roughest and most repulsive appearance. There are but few houses on the road, (and those scarcely deserve that name,) until you approach Montrose. For the greater part of the distance it is an immense forest of white-pine and hemlock, looking in the highest degree savage and uncivilized—so that I was glad to reach Montrose, which we accomplished about five o'clock, distance sixty miles. Montrose is the county town, and indeed I may safely say it is all the town of Susquehanna County worth any notice.
On the morning of the 23d, at two o'clock, I took my seat in the U. S. mail stage for Nazareth, distant one hundred and five miles, fare five dollars and a half. The country for the first twenty-two miles, until you reach Tunkhannock, is very similar to the last day's ride, very hilly and sterile. After passing Tunkhannock, the road for about fifteen miles is mostly along the Susquehanna, on the side of the mountains, running on a shelf, which, in some places, is four hundred feet above the water, and is rather dangerous. After leaving this narrow road, we opened into the fair Valley of Wyoming. This is by far the most delightful valley I ever saw, being exceedingly fertile and highly picturesque. Mountains surround it on all sides, and cultivated farms are constantly occurring, while the noble river meanders through the very centre. It is the spot on which so many brave fellows were massacred in the revolution. We passed the battle ground; and the identical spot was pointed out to us by a passenger who resided in the neighborhood, where the unfortunate individuals were interred, within fifty yards of the road. We arrived at Wilkesbarre at two o'clock. This place is located on the east bank of the Susquehanna, near the foot of the mountain, and though celebrated even in song for its romantic beauty, I was disappointed in its appearance. It is not so large as I had supposed; yet it is a clean little place, having many good buildings, and a very interesting society. Immediately on leaving it we plunged into a wild and desolate mountainous region, extending thirty miles—and yet there are many beautiful lakes on the very summit of the hills, said to be permanent. About ten miles from Wilkesbarre we came to the Shades of Death, a hideous place, calculated to awaken feelings of the gloomiest kind. We passed Stoddardtsville, composed of a few desolate looking houses on the terrible height. At the Lehigh, which is here quite small, there is a mill, though now partly fallen down. How it is supplied with grain in that dreary region, I am utterly unable to conjecture. At length over this mountainous country, and its intolerable log roads, we put up at Pokono for the night, distant eighty miles from Montrose.
We descended the Pokono on the morning of the 24th, at two o'clock—and I can truly say I never had a ride which caused me so much uneasiness; for it was steep as a house-roof, and I could not see the road for the fog, so gave myself up to the mercy of the driver. We got down safe, passed the Wind Gap, and arrived at Nazareth, distant twenty-five miles. Nazareth is a pleasant little place, peopled by a most amiable community. I left it next morning for Easton, distant seven miles, and by night was at my own door.
Annexed is a list of places through which my journey lay, with their distances—which may possibly be useful in directing some who are desirous of spending three weeks in traveling over the most interesting portion of the Union.
Outward.—New York, 90 miles. Albany, 160; Schenectady, 16; Amsterdam, 16; Schoharie Creek, 7; Canawaga, 4; Sparkers, 3; Canajoharie, 3; Fort Plain, 16; Little Falls, 12; Frankford, 10; Utica, 4; Whitesborough, 3; Oriskany, 8; Rome, 7; New London, 4: Oneida Creek, 5; Conastota, 4; New Boston, 4; Chittinings, 8; Manlius, 9; Syracuse, 8; Nine Mile Creek, 6; Canton, 6; Jordan, 6; Weedsport, 3; Auburn, 10; Cayuga Bridge, 9; Seneca Falls, 3; Waterloo, 5: Geneva, 6; Canandaigua, 16; E. Bloomfield, 9; W. do. 5; Lima, 4; E. Avon, 5; Avon P. O., 2; Caledonia, 8; Le Roy, 6; Batavia, 11; Pembroke, 14: Clarence, 8; Williamsville, 8; Buffalo, 10; Black Rock, 3; Tonewanto, 9; Niagara Falls, 11; Lewistown, 7.
Returning.—Rochester, 90; Pittsford, 10; Bushnells, 3; Fulmans, 3; Palmyra, 13; Port-Gilron, 5: Newark, 3; Lyons, 7; Clyde, 9; Montezuma, 11; Cayuga, 10; Aurora, 15; Keeder's Ferry, 10; Nashville, 12; Ludlowville, 11; Ithaca, 12; Owego, 60; Montrose, 30; Tunkhannock, 21; Wilkesbarre, 30; Stoddartsville, 15: Pokono, 15; Wind Gap, 15; Nazareth, 10; Easton, 7; Newtown, 41.