CHAPTER XII.
Route from Pittsburg to Erie—Commodore Perry’s Victory—Night Scene at Fredonia—The Indian Chief at Buffalo—Falls of Niagara—Visit to Fort Niagara—Appearance of Lockport—Passage from Lockport to Rochester—Aqueduct over the Genessee River—Route by land from Rochester to Syracuse—Passage from Syracuse to Schenectady, Rome, and Utica—Grand Canal.
On leaving Pittsburg, the general was obliged to part from his old friends of the state of Ohio, represented by Governor Morrow, who had accompanied him with his staff. Conducted by a committee of the city of Pittsburg, and escorted by a company of militia, we took the route by way of Franklin, Meadville, Waterford, and Erie, to gain the shores of the great lake which bears this name. All this western portion of Pennsylvania, watered by French Creek, is remarkable for the beauty and variety of its scenery. In each of the villages through which we passed, the general was detained several hours in receiving the honours which had been prepared for him by the citizens and public officers.
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 hisold 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 afterwardsdefiled 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, whetherfriendly 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 rousedby 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 tobe 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.
After two hours of delightful excursion, we left Goat Island, and cast a farewell look on it from the bridge which unites it to the main land. From this it appeared to us like a garden in the air, supported by the clouds, and surrounded by thunder. The general could not tear himself from this imposing scene, and I believe that when he learnt that Goat Island and its charming dependencies were for sale for 1000 dollars, he strongly regretted that the distance from France would not permit him to purchase it. It would be, in fact, a delicious habitation; the surface of the soil, of about seventy-five acres, is covered with a vigorous vegetation, whose verdure constantly kept up by the freshness of the pure and light vapour that arises from the cataract, presents an agreeable shelter from the heat of summer. The current of water which surrounds it offers an incalculable power which may be applied to mills of all kinds. I do not think that Mr. Porter will wait long before he disposes of a property which offers so many advantages.
On leaving Manchester and the Falls of Niagara, we went to Lewistown to sleep: this is a pretty village situated a few miles below the falls; and the next day, at five o’clock in the morning, we rode to Fort Niagara, where General Lafayette had been invited to breakfast by Major Thomson, the commandant of the garrison. We found the major at the head of his officers, a short distance in advance of the fort, waiting to receive the general, who was saluted by twenty-four guns as soon as he entered the works. Some ladies, wives of the officers of the garrison, assisted their husbands in doing the honours of the entertainment,and contributed not a little by their politeness, in making the time we passed at Niagara appear very short.
This fort is built precisely at the point where the river enters into Lake Ontario, on which Commodore Chauncey reaped laurels, like those gathered by Perry on Lake Erie. Almost opposite, on the other bank, is fort George, occupied by the English. Hostilities were frequent between these two posts in the campaigns of 1813 and 1814, but the fortifications of both have since been repaired, and it would now be difficult to trace the ravages of war.
The general shortened his visit to Fort Niagara, in order to arrive early at Lockport, where we were to embark on the grand canal, to descend to Albany. On a height near Lockport we met a troop of from seventy to eighty citizens on horseback, and under this escort entered the village, where the general was saluted by an extraordinary kind of artillery. Hundreds of small blasts, charged with powder by the workmen engaged in quarrying the bed of the rock to form the canal, exploded almost at the same moment, and hurled fragments of rock into the air, which fell amidst the acclamations of the crowd. The appearance of Lockport filled us with astonishment and admiration. No where have I ever seen the activity and industry of man conquering nature so completely as in this growing village. In every part may be heard the sound of the hatchet and hammer. Here, trees are felled, fashioned under the hands of the carpenter, and raised on the same spot in the form of a house; there, on a large public square, which exists as yet only in project, an immense hotel already opens its doors to new settlers, who have not any other habitation. Scarcely is there to be found in the whole town a sufficiency of the necessaries of life, and yet, by the side of a school, in which the children are instructed whilst their fathers are building the houses that are to shelter them, is to be seen a printing press, which every morning issues a journal, teaching the labourers, in their hours of repose, how the magistrates of the people fulfil the confidence reposed in them. In streets traced through the forest, and yet encumbered with trunks of trees and scattered branches, luxury already appears in the light wagons drawn by splendid horses; finally, in the midst of these encroachments ofcivilization on savage nature, there is going on, with a rapidity that appears miraculous, that gigantic work, that grand canal, which, in tightening the bonds of the American Union, spreads comfort and abundance in the wilds through which it passes.
Our carriages stopped opposite to an arch of green branches, and General Lafayette was conducted to a platform, where he had the satisfaction of being welcomed by one of his old fellow soldiers, the venerable Stephen Van Rensellaer, now president of the board of canal commissioners. After having been officially presented to the deputation from Monroe county, as well as to a great number of citizens, we sat down to a public dinner, presided over by Colonel Asher Saxton, at the end of which the general, induced by the feelings awakened in him by the sight of so many wonders, gave the following toast: “To Lockport and the county of Niagara—they contain the greatest wonders of art and nature, prodigies only to be surpassed by those of liberty and equal rights.”
The free masons of Lockport, not wishing to permit the general to depart without rendering him the honours due to his high masonic rank, begged him to keep in remembrance of their lodge, the rich ornaments with which he had been adorned when he entered the temple. They afterwards accompanied us to the basin, where the boat was waiting to convey us to Rochester. Before we embarked, we had great pleasure in viewing the handsome locks, cut out of the solid rock, to the depth of twenty-five feet. The moment the general stepped on board the barge, a multitude of small blasts, dug in the rock, exploded above our heads, and their deafening detonations added to the solemnity of the farewells of the citizens of Lockport. Before leaving the basin, we received from Dr. —— a box containing specimens of the different species of rocks through which the canal passed; we accepted this interesting collection with gratitude. Although navigation by steam is not applicable to a canal, whose banks are not of stone, yet, as the horses and the tow-path were, excellent, we travelled rapidly and comfortably; for the boat (the Rochester) that carried us, was much more convenient and better provided with the comforts of life than could have been supposed.
We left Lockport at 7 o’clock in the evening, and traversed during the night the sixty-five miles that separate that village from Rochester, where we arrived at an early hour in the morning. We had not yet quitted our cabin, when suddenly the name of Lafayette, pronounced amidst violent acclamations, induced the general to ascend on deck; we followed him, and what was our astonishment and admiration at the scene that presented itself! We were apparently suspended in the air, in the centre of an immense crowd which lined both sides of the canal; several cataracts fell rumbling around us, the river Genessee rolled below our feet at a distance of fifty feet; we were some moments without comprehending our situation, which appeared the effect of magic: at last we found, that the part of the canal on which we were, was carried with an inconceivable boldness across the Genessee river, by means of an aqueduct of upwards of four hundred yards in length, supported by arches of hewn stone. Our fellow passengers, witnesses of our astonishment, informed us that, in its long course, the canal passed several times, in a similar manner, over wide and deep rivers; that above Irondiguot, for example, it pursued an aerial route for more than a quarter of a mile, at an elevation of 70 feet. This kind of construction appears familiar to the Americans. The bridges are usually of an elegance and boldness of execution that is inconceivable. Not far from Rochester may be seen the ruins of a bridge that had been thrown over the river Genessee in a single arch of 320 feet span, and 180 feet elevation above the water; it gave way a few years since whilst two children were crossing it. It was said to have been a masterpiece of art, but the want of size and strength in the timbers prevented its lasting long.
The general left the canal at Rochester, passed a few hours with the inhabitants of that town, who gave him a reception, which, in affection and elegance, fully equalled any that I have hitherto witnessed, and continued his journey by land, passing through the villages of Canandaigua, Geneva, Auburn, Skeneateles, Marcellus, &c. and re-joined the canal at Syracuse. This journey confirmed us in the opinion, that no part of America, or, perhaps, of the whole world, contains so many wonders of nature as the state of New York. The lakes of Canandaigua, Seneca and Cayuga,appeared delightful to us from the purity of their waters, the form of their basins, and the richness of their banks. The sight of all these beauties, and still more the kindness and urbanity of the population through which we travelled, often made General Lafayette regret the rapidity with which he travelled. During this journey of upwards of one hundred and thirty miles by land, we travelled night and day, only stopping for a few moments at each village, to enjoy the entertainments, prepared by the inhabitants in honour of their beloved guest, who, said they, by the simplicity, the amenity and uniformity of his manners, towards all classes of citizens, completed the conquest of all hearts, already devoted to him from his adherence to the cause of America in particular, and that of liberty in general.
From Rochester to Syracuse, we were constantly struck with the marked beauty of the horses that formed our relays; and learned that they had been gratuitously furnished by individuals, whose patriotic disinterestedness was fully appreciated by the different committees charged with the care of the general’s journey, and who returned them public thanks. Among these generous citizens, I heard particularly cited, Mr. de Zeng, of Geneva, and Mr. Sherwood, proprietor of the stage-coaches at Auburn.
On arriving at Syracuse at six o’clock in the morning, by the fading light of the illuminations, and the crowd that filled the streets, we learned that the people of the village had expected the national guest all night. The splendid supper that had been prepared for the evening before, made us an excellent breakfast, and the general passed three hours amidst the kind congratulations of the citizens, who eagerly pressed around him. At nine o’clock he took leave of his friends at Syracuse, and embarked on board the canal-boat, amid the thunder of artillery, and loud wishes for the happy termination of his voyage.
We resumed this mode of travelling with the more pleasure, as we had lately suffered much from the heat and dust on our last day’s journey by land. Always incited by a wish to fulfil the promise he had given to the citizens of Boston, the general determined to travel day and night as long as he was on the canal, and only to halt in the towns on his route a sufficient time to return his thanks to theinhabitants, all of whom had made preparations for his reception. We often regretted this necessary haste, especially on seeing the handsome towns of Rome, Utica, Schenectady, &c. and hearing the patriotic acclamations of their inhabitants. At Rome, which we passed through in the night by the light of an illumination, we met with the deputation from Utica, at the head of which the general had the satisfaction of recognising one of his fellow soldiers, Colonel Lansing, who fought by his side at Yorktown.
Twenty discharges of artillery announced his arrival in Utica, and at this signal all the population gathered round him to hear the eloquent discourse addressed to him by Judge Williams, in the name of the people. His astonishment was extreme, when the orator informed him that the part of the country he had traversed in so rapid and commodious a manner, was that through which he had passed with so much difficulty and danger during the war of the revolution, to save the garrison of Fort Stanwix from the tomahawks of the Indian allies of Great Britain. He could scarcely believe in so great a change, and was unable to express the happiness he felt. We only spent four hours at Utica; but that time would not suffice to detail all the marks of attachment that were heaped upon him. Obliged to divide his time between his old fellow soldiers and the children of the different schools; between the magistrates and the ladies; and, finally, between strangers and Indians, collected from several miles around to pay their respects to him, he still found means to reply to the enthusiasm of all, and every one that approached him returned satisfied and persuaded that he was an object of particular attention. Three chiefs of Oneidas, Taniatakaya, Sangouxyonta, and Doxtator, asked for a private interview, and recalled to his recollection some circumstances of the campaigns of 1777 and 1778, in which they had rendered him some services. He recognized them again, but was greatly astonished to find, that two of them already advanced in years at the time of which they spoke, were still living; notwithstanding their great age, their features still preserved an energetic expression; they spoke with warmth of the situation of their tribe. “The chase is no longer productive,” said they; “it does not supply our wants, and weare obliged to provide for our subsistence by agriculture, which renders us very unhappy; but it is not owing to our white brothers of the state of New York; they act generously towards us; they permit us to live in peace near the bones of our fathers, which they have not obliged us to transport to a strange land; and the government often succours us when our harvests fail; hence we sincerely love our white brothers, the Americans. We formerly fought for them against the English, and we are still ready to raise the tomahawk in their favour, whenever occasion requires it.” The general praised them for the sentiments they expressed; he told them he had not forgotten their former valuable services; and begged them always to regard the Americans as good brothers; he then made them some presents of money, and they returned well satisfied. A deputation from the county of Oneida, waited on the general to beg him to assist in laying the first stone of a monument, which the citizens of that county were about erecting to the memory of Baron de Steuben, whose remains had reposed since 1795, at Steubenville, without any mark of distinction. But the time fixed for this ceremony, not according with the public engagements entered into by the general with the citizens of Boston, he was under the necessity of refusing this invitation. “If I could associate with you,” replied he to the deputation, “in rendering to the memory of my fellow soldier and friend Baron de Steuben, those honours you intend bestowing and of which no one is more worthy, without my missing the celebration at Bunker’s Hill, it would not be the fatigues of a long and rapid journey that would deter me, you may be fully persuaded; but a single day of delay may occasion my breaking a sacred promise; you must be aware of this, be good enough therefore to be the bearers of my regrets to the citizens of Steubenville, and assure them that my heart will be with them at this melancholy ceremony, which I am obliged to forego attending in spite of my wishes.”
The regrets of General Lafayette were the more acute and sincere, as he could, better perhaps than any other, appreciate the rare qualities and noble character of Baron de Steuben, who had shared with him the toils and dangers of the Virginia campaign.
Frederic William Steuben was born in Prussia, in 1735. Destined for a career of arms, his education was entirely military, and he early entered the service. His knowledge, his well tried courage, and his zeal in the performance of his duties, did not escape the penetration of Frederic the Great, who promoted him rapidly, and attached him particularly to his own person. The young Steuben did not fail to profit by the lessons of his illustrious master, and obtained a brilliant reputation among the best generals of the age. But neither the glory he had acquired, nor the favours of the greatest king of the time, could counterbalance his love for liberty. As soon as he learned that the American colonies, shaking off the despotism of England, were ready to maintain their independence by an appeal to arms, he crossed the ocean and offered them his services, declaring that he was ambitious of no other honour than that of acting as a volunteer in a good cause, and that he would accept neither rank nor pay before he had given proofs of his valour. This noble disinterestedness, and the services he rendered the American army, merited him the friendship of Washington, and the confidence of congress, who elevated him to the rank of major-general. His candour and moderation equalled his skill and bravery. After the peace, wishing to enjoy the fruits of that liberty to which he had contributed so gloriously, he retired to Oneida county, to lands given him by congress, and there, cultivating in solitude his mind and his fields, he philosophically waited for death; which suddenly made him its prey in 1795. He was then about sixty years of age. According to his wish, expressed in his last will, he was wrapped in his cloak, placed in a simple wooden coffin, and committed to the earth without a stone or an inscription to mark the place of his sepulchre. He laid for a long time in a thick wood near his house, when his remains were menaced with profanation by the opening of a public road through his property. Colonel Walker, his former friend, hastened to collect them, and the inhabitants of Steubenville, and of the county of Oneida, resolved to enclose them in a durable monument, as an expression of their gratitude and esteem for the German warrior.
A cannon, the signal of the departure of the guest of the nation, had already been heard twenty-four times. Theboat that was to take him to Schenectady was ready, and the people assembled on the quays and the bridges that cross the canal, waited in silence for his departure. When he embarked, and our light vessel, drawn by superb white horses, had begun to glide through the water, three cheers expressed to him the last farewell of the inhabitants of Utica, whilst children placed on the bridges, showered down flowers upon him as the boat passed beneath. Standing on the prow of the vessel with his head uncovered, General Lafayette replied by signs of gratitude to those testimonies of popular esteem. His son and myself, witnesses of this touching scene, remained near him, partaking both of the enthusiasm of the people, and the happiness of him that was the object of it, when our attention was suddenly attracted by the cries of a man who followed the boat, by running along the bank, and making signs to us to stop. His copper colour, half naked body, and grotesque ornaments, marked him for an Indian. Although his intention to board us was manifest, our captain, Major Swartwout, did not think it advisable to stop. The Indian, therefore, exerting all his strength, hastened his pace so much, as to pass us considerably, and at last waited on the last bridge near the town. At the moment he passed beneath it, he sprung on the deck, and fell on his feet in the midst of us, admirably erect. “Where is Kayewla? I wish to see Kayewla,” cried he with agitation. The general was pointed out to him. His countenance expressed the greatest satisfaction “I am the son of Wekchekaeta,” said he, stretching out his hand; “of him who loved you so well, that he followed you to your country when you returned there after the great war; my father has often spoken to me of you, and I am happy to see you.” The general had already learned that Wekchekaeta had died some years since, and was glad to meet with his son, who appeared to be about twenty-four years of age. He made him sit down, and conversed several minutes with him, and rendered him happy by presenting him with several dollars, when he left us. The young Indian was as little embarrassed to find a mode of leaving the boat as he had been to enter it. We were separated from the bank of the canal by about ten feet; he sprung over this space with the lightness of a deer, and disappeared in an instant.This singular visit greatly excited the curiosity of our fellow passengers, and the general hastened to satisfy it by relating the history of Wekchekaeta, whom he carried to Europe with him in 1778, and who, soon disgusted with civilization, joyfully returned to his native wilds.
To describe our voyage from Utica to Schenectady, a distance of about eighty miles, would be to repeat what has already been said when speaking of that in the upper part of the canal. We arrived in the latter town next day, 11th June, about dinner time. We remained there only a few hours, which the inhabitants rendered very pleasant to the general, and in the evening set out in carriages for Albany, which is about sixteen miles distant from it. We lost much, we were told, in not continuing our route by the canal, which, during the whole of that route, runs along the river Mohawk, over which it twice passes by aqueducts of 1800 feet in length, but pressed for time, we were obliged to choose the shortest road; besides, we had travelled, since leaving Lockport, for near three hundred miles on the canal, and we had been able to judge of the beauty and utility of this great channel of communication, executed in eight years by the state of New York alone, unassisted by any foreign aid. There are still some few parts to be finished, before the navigation will be open the whole length of the canal; but these will be accomplished in a few months, when the boats passing from Lake Erie to Albany will traverse a length of three hundred and sixty miles, and descend a height of five hundred and fifty feet, by means of eighty-three locks built of hewn stone, and whose basin of thirty feet long by fifteen broad, will admit boats of upwards of one hundred tons burthen. The total expenses for the construction of this canal are estimated at ten millions of dollars. This sum appears enormous at first view, but nevertheless it is trifling, when the immense advantages that will accrue to the state of New York are taken into consideration. The tolls demanded for the right of navigation, although very low, have already produced, during the year 1824, the sum of 350,761 dollars; and it is believed that the receipts will amount this year to 500,000 dollars, and that in the nine succeeding years it will increase at the rate of 75,000 dollars per annum, so that at the end of ten years, the debt incurredin the accomplishment of this great work will be liquidated, and also, after deducting 100,000 dollars annually for repairs, &c., the state of New York will receive from its canal, a nett revenue of a million of dollars, which is four times more than the expenses of its government.[16]
The state of New York will then present the new spectacle of a community of more than two millions of men, not only supporting its government without taxes, but also having money arising from its own property. The citizens of that state will always, it is true, have to pay the duties the general government thinks right to impose on the importation of foreign products; but the independent farmer, who produces on his farm all the necessaries of life, may live without paying any tax either direct or indirect, to the state or the general government.
I present this picture of the public prosperity of the state of New York, for the consideration of our European politicians and economists.