The trophies suspended over our heads, the name of Perry and the view of lake Erie, necessarily directed the thoughts of the guests to the events of the last war; and in a short time the gallant deeds of the American navy became the subject of general conversation. As it was perceived that Lafayette took great pleasure in hearing a narration of the glory of the descendants of his former companions in arms, all the details of that memorable day were given him, in which, after a combat of three hours, an American squadron entirely captured a British fleet far superior in the number of guns.
In hearing the recital of those noble actions, Lafayette cast his eyes alternately on the numerous English flags that floated over his head, on the lake, the theatre of such glorious events, and on the seamen who surrounded him; and his heart was filled with pride, on perceiving that the Americans of 1813 had shown themselves worthy sons of his old fellow soldiers, the immortal heroes of the revolution of 1776.
On leaving the table, the general took leave of the inhabitants of Erie, and departed from this town at three o’clock in the afternoon, with the committee of Chatauque county, who had come to announce to him that a steam-boat was waiting at Dunkirk to take him to Buffalo. Before sunset, we left the territory of Pennsylvania and entered on that of New York. As we had fifty miles to accomplish, and as the general did not wish to detain the vessel too long, we travelled until daybreak without stopping. In this rapid journey, we passed through many large villages, the population of which, assembled in the public places around large fires, waited patiently for the arrival of the national guest to salute him with patriotic acclamations. These nocturnal scenes have left a strong impression on my mind. I shall never forget the magical effect that was produced at Fredonia. On leaving Portland, yielding to the fatigue of the preceding days, we were sleeping in the carriage notwithstanding the violent jolting occasioned by the trunks of the trees forming the road over which we were rapidly passing; on a sudden the startling explosion of a piece of artillery awoke us, and our eyes were immediately dazzled by the glare of a thousand lights, suspended to the houses and trees that surrounded us. We were solicited to alight, and we found ourselves in the middle of an avenue, formed on one side by men and boys, and on the other by young girls and women holding their infants in their arms. At the sight of Lafayette, the air resounded with joyful cries, all arms were stretched out towards him, the mothers presented their infants to him and begged his benediction on them, and warlike music uniting its sound to the din of artillery and bells gladdened all hearts. Struck by so touching a reception, the general was unable for some time to subdue his emotions; at last, he advanced slowly through the crowd, at every step shaking affectionately the hands that were stretched out to him, and replying with tenderness to the sweet salutation of the children who accompanied his progress with cries of “Welcome, Lafayette.”
On a stage built in the centre of a large place, lighted by barrels of burning rosin, an orator was waiting to address him in the name of the people of Fredonia, who afterwards defiled before him in order to salute him once more. Notwithstanding the striking character of this scene, the general felt himself obliged to abridge it, that he might not expose to the cold, for a longer time, the women and young girls, who, slightly clad, had passed all the night in the open air, waiting for him. It was three o’clock in the morning, when, after having partaken of a collation, we left Fredonia. The sun already began to gild the summits of the forests we left to the right, when we arrived at Dunkirk, a small port on Lake Erie, when the boat that was to convey us to Buffalo, was waiting for us. A committee from that town, and a great number of ladies, had come to meet the general, and received him on board to the sound of music, the delightful harmony of which accorded deliciously with the beauty of the morning, and the romantic aspect of the bay in which we were.
At twelve o’clock we were within sight of the shores of Buffalo; but retarded in our progress by violent and contrary wind, we were unable to enter the port for two hours. Although the town of Buffalo was almost entirely destroyed by the English, who burnt it during the last war, we were nevertheless struck with its air of prosperity, and the bustle in its port. We landed near one of the extremities of that grand canal, whose other extremity we had visited five hundred miles from this, near Albany, and which serves as a link between Lake Erie and the Atlantic. After the first ceremonies of the reception of the national guest by the magistrates and citizens of Buffalo, we went to snatch a few moments of repose at the Eagle tavern, where our lodgings had been prepared. There, the general received a great number of persons who desired to be particularly presented to him; among them we had the pleasure of seeing an old Indian chief of the Senecas, who had acquired a great reputation for courage and eloquence, not only among his own people, but also among the whites, who call him Red Jacket. This extraordinary man, although much broken by time and intemperance, still preserved, to a surprising degree, the exercise of all his faculties; he immediately recognised General Lafayette, and recalled to his recollection that they had been together in 1784 at Fort Schuyler, where a great council had been held, in which the interests of all the Indian nations, whether friendly or otherwise, who could have any relation to the United States, were settled. The general replied to him that he had not forgotten this circumstance, and demanded of him if he knew what had become of the young Indian who had so eloquently opposed “the burying of the tomahawk.” “He is before you,” replied the son of the forest, with all the brevity of his expressive language. “Time has much changed us,” said the general to him, “for then we were young and active.” “Ah,” exclaimed Red Jacket, “time has been less severe on you than on me; he has left you a fresh countenance, and a head well covered with hair; whilst as for me—look!” and untying the handkerchief that covered his head, he showed us, with a melancholy air, that his head was entirely bald. The bystanders could not help smiling at the simplicity of the Indian, who appeared to be ignorant of the means of repairing the injuries of time; but were cautious not to explain his error; and perhaps did right, for he might have confounded a wig with a scalp, and wished to have regarnished his head at the expense of that of one of his neighbours. Like all the Indians, who have preserved their primitive haughtiness, Red Jacket obstinately adheres to his native language, and entertains a great contempt for all others. Although it was easy to see that he understood English perfectly, he nevertheless refused to reply to the questions of General Lafayette, before they were translated into Seneca by his interpreter. The general, having remembered a few Indian words which he had learned during his youth, pronounced them before him; he appeared sensible of this politeness, which singularly augmented the high opinion he already entertained of Lafayette.
The Seneca tribe is one of the six nations known formerly by the name of Iroquois, and now inhabiting the northern part of the state of New York, under the protection of the government of that state. These six nations are the Tuscaroras, Onondagas, Oneidas, Cayugas, Mohawks, and Senecas. I wished much to have visited a large village inhabited by the latter, a short distance from Buffalo, but the little time we spent at that place, was so completely and agreeably taken up by entertainments prepared by the inhabitants for their guest, that it was impossible for me to spare the time.
We passed the night at Buffalo, and the next day, at an early hour, we set out in a carriage for the Falls of Niagara: on our way we breakfasted with the family of General Porter, at Black Rock, a small but handsome port which rivals that of Buffalo in bustle; and a few hours afterwards, a hollow rambling which seemed to shake the earth, and a thick column of vapour which we saw at a distance rising towards the clouds, announced to us, that we were about to enjoy the sight of one of the greatest wonders of nature.
At two o’clock we arrived with our fellow passengers from Buffalo and Black Rock at Manchester, a small village situated on the right bank of the Niagara, near the falls, where the general was received and complimented by a large deputation from the county of Niagara. Full of an impatience that may readily be conceived, we abridged as much as possible, the duration of a public dinner, of which we were obliged to partake on arriving, and at half past three we went over to the island that divides the Niagara into two unequal parts, at the point where the waters form the cataracts and precipitate themselves in a gulf of 150 feet in depth. The sight of the bridge which leads to this island, called Goat Island, admirably prepares the mind for the contemplation of the imposing scene that presents itself, and gives a nigh idea of the boldness and skill of those who constructed it. Built on a bed of rocks, whose numerous points are elevated above the water, and by opposing the current only increase its violence, its wooden pillars are agitated by a continued vibration, which seems to announce that the moment approaches when it will give way and be precipitated in the abyss; some minutes after having passed the bridge we found ourselves in presence of the great fall. It is a sublime spectacle, but it must not be expected I should attempt to describe the sensations that I experienced at the sight of the gigantic phenomena; they were of a nature that cannot be expressed: I therefore willingly relinquish the trial, in which, in my opinion, the most skilful writers have greatly failed. We remained near half an hour on the edge of the gulf, silently contemplating the rapid fall of the water, and almost stunned by the noise of its terrible roaring. We should, in all probability, have remained plunged in a reverie much longer, had we not been roused by the voice of one of our companions, doubtless more familiar than us with this fearful sport of nature, anxious to give us some details, interesting perhaps, but which we certainly should never have demanded.
Mr. A. Porter, the brother of General Porter, with whom we had breakfasted at Black Rock, is the owner of Goat Island; he had the kindness to conduct the general to all the most picturesque points of this singular property, which is, as it were, suspended above the abyss. From the upper extremity of the island, we saw a spectacle less terrible than from the lower point, but which is nevertheless not without majesty. Our view, extending to a great distance, agreeably reposed on the beautiful river Niagara, which rolls its waters as smooth as a mirror, over a large bed unincumbered with obstacles, and between low and fertile banks: it is only in approaching the superior point of the island, that the rapidity of the course is accelerated and it prepares for the terrible fall, whose noise, during the stillness of the night, is heard, it is said, for more than twenty miles around. Woe to the animal or man that has the imprudence to enter this irresistible current, no human power can save him from the insatiable avidity of the gulf. It is only a few years since a young Indian furnished a lamentable example. He was sleeping in the bottom of his canoe which he had fastened to the shore near the small town of Chippewa, when a young girl who had replied to his love, but whom he had deserted for another, passed and saw him. At the sight of him the furies of jealousy kindled in her bosom the desire for revenge. She approached, unfastened the canoe, and gently pushed it from the shore, the current soon acted on it, and carried it down the stream with great rapidity. The noise of the waves soon woke the young Indian, who, on opening his eyes, saw the imminent danger to which he was exposed; his first movement, inspired by a desire of preservation, was to seize his paddle to strive against the current; but he soon perceived the inutility of his efforts, which were derided by his wicked mistress by cries of cruel joy: then having nothing to oppose to his fate but a courageous resignation, he enveloped himself in his blanket, seated himself in the middle of the canoe, and coolly fixed his looks on the gates of eternity soon to be opened to him, and in a few seconds disappeared in the profound abyss.
The name of Chippewa, pronounced in the recital of the fate of the young Indian, awoke our recollection of the glorious deeds of the American troops, during the last war, on the frontiers of Canada, from which we were only separated at this time by an arm of the Niagara. With this recollection were naturally mingled the names of Brown, Van Ransellaer, Ripley, Scott, Porter, Harrison, Pike, Jessup, Miller, and many others who rendered themselves illustrious in these spots, by their talents, their courage, and their ardent love of country.