Rapids, on the approach to the Village of Cedars.
“Soon after I had finished my letter on board the steam-boat, we stopped near the mouth of the Genessee river, to give us the opportunity of seeing Rochester and its vicinity. Stages had been previously sent for, in which we proceeded to Rochester, nine miles distant. On our way we stopped to see the lower falls of the Genessee river, and Carthage bridge. This wooden bridge is now in ruins. When perfect, it must have been extremely beautiful. It was a single arch, whose span was about 350 feet wide, and its extreme height above the surface of the river 196 feet. It gave way from the slightness of its materials, immediately after two children had crossed it. A short distance above it are the falls of the Genessee, which appeared to me to bear a strong resemblance to those of the Clyde. At Rochester we found a handsome mill, and every symptom of a thriving town. Instead of ‘cash store’ being painted over the shops, as in most towns of the United States, to tell the customers that the shopkeepers sell only for cash, while they may almost be induced to sell even a thimble on credit; ‘here cash given for wheat,’ ‘cash given for, &c. &c.’ was the usual motto. We learnt also, that the town was blessed by the absence of a bank, while in the smallest American town I had been accustomed to find banks the first objects which presented themselves—the Farmer’s Bank, the Merchant’s Bank, the Planter’s Bank, the Mechanic’s Bank, the Franklin Bank, the Patriotic Bank, &c. &c. with their various combinations, had met my eye more or less in every village. We embarked again about two o’clock, and in the morning by day-light found ourselves at Sacket’s Harbour, of which we heard so much during the war. It is a noble natural harbour, and the place where the American ships employed on the lakes were built so rapidly. Many of them are now rotting under wooden covers. There is one half finished, said to be longer than our largest ship of the line, covered with a wooden shade, which itself, our conductor told us, cost 7,000l. This immense vessel, so far inland, on the banks of a lake, was a singular sight, and excited some incongruous ideas.
Prescott, from Ogdensburg Harbour.
“We sailed again soon after breakfast, and in the morning (9th) found ourselves at Ogdensburgh, about 260 miles from Niagara, which we had left on the 6th. The preceding afternoon we had entered the St. Lawrence, and I had been much delighted with our sail through that expanse of it which is called the Lake of the Thousand Islands. In reality, there are more than 2,000, of every size and form, and a lovely afternoon exhibited them in all their beauty. As we glided past them, on the smooth surface of the St. Lawrence, I thought I had never beheld a scene which so nearly realized my ideas of enchantment. The banks of the river as we proceeded were rather less wild and interesting than I had expected.
“At Ogdensburgh, which is said to belong principally to Mr. Parish, who is endeavouring to settle a tract of land in the vicinity, we breakfasted at a large stone tavern, which he has built, and then prepared in high spirits to descend the Rapids. For this purpose we hired a long boat, which would accommodate the whole party, and which, with 25 people on board and their baggage, and 25 barrels of flour for ballast, was said to draw only eight inches of water. We set sail about ten o’clock, and in four hours and a few minutes had been carried 48 miles down the stream, in the course of which we had passed the first three rapids, one of which was half a mile, another two, and another about nine miles long. We always discerned them at a great distance, the dashing of the white foam resembling the tossing of the ocean; and as we approached them our velocity gradually increased, till we were carried by the stream at the rate of 14 or 15 miles an hour. When we got into the middle of the surges, our velocity, though still great, was checked by the eddies and by waves which frequently struck the bottom of the boat with great force; and from the appearance of the troubled waters, it seemed difficult for a boat to live. The confidence of the boatmen, however, checked our apprehensions, and our ladies behaved extremely well. The most alarming appearance was that of pointed rocks, which, from the transparency of the water, seemed to rise almost to the surface, and to threaten inevitable destruction. As I stood on the bow, I saw combinations of rocks, towards which we were hurried with impetuosity, and which it seemed impossible our boat could pass without striking. In some of the Rapids there were channels, called lost channels, from the accidents which had happened in them, and into which our boatmen had to guard against our being carried. The river varies from three-fourths of a mile to two miles in width; and although there are no mountains near, (the green mountains of Vermont were often in sight at a distance,) the white pine and cedar gave a picturesque appearance to its banks, and a resemblance to the river views in Norway or Sweden. One of the most singular sensations we experienced, was that of sailing many miles perceptibly down hill. Soon after passing the third rapid, the St. Lawrence expanded into a wide lake—the Lake of St. Francis. There we lost our wind and stream, and were obliged to have recourse to our oars. The evening was now closing in, and a violent thunder-storm brought on a premature darkness; but the ladies enlivened us by singing the Canadian Boat-Song, ‘Row, brothers, row, &c.’ which transported me to ——, where I have so often heard it.
Village of Cedars, River St. Lawrence.
