Alida Part 10

On the contrary, she was evidently much embarra.s.sed at this declaration.

She remained silent, and looked upon him with a degree of pity mingled with regret; then casting down her eyes, she appeared greatly confused.

She could not make any returns in his favour, and the amiable Alida felt extremely sorry to give pain or uneasiness to the friend and school companion of an only brother. She had received him with complacency on that account, which had served to increase his ill-fated partiality. She felt that she could not give one word of encouragement, yet she did not wish to drive him to despair.

The band of music now began to play in the garden. They commenced with the celebrated air of the Star-Spangled Banner, and continued playing different pieces for the s.p.a.ce of several hours.

As soon as the music ceased, they left the garden to return home, and all the people now apparently thronged out of the gates with as much avidity as they had entered them some hours before. When they arrived at the dwelling of Alida, they found that the time had whiled away, and that the evening had progressed to a late hour.

On his way home the mind of Mr. More was absorbed in the following reflections. "When I told her my affection, the blush was diffused over her cheek--and the tear of sensibility started in her eye. She evinced her regard by silent expressions, which she has shown repeatedly in many proofs of interested friends.h.i.+p, accompanied by the softness of her winning manners, and the engaging mildness of her disposition. Bonville is her declared admirer--but he may not be a favoured one. Should he meet with her approbation at any future time, would not his own fate be wretched, and the universe would become a blank deprived of the society of Alida, shaded over with the deepest tints of darkness and melancholy."

CHAPTER XXIII.

O let me view, in annual succession, my children, friends, and relatives. Those that in friends.h.i.+p's bonds are linked together by ties of dear remembrance.

The scene was highly animated, and the days were delightfully pleasant, when Alida returned with her parents to the country. The showers of April had cleared the atmosphere and revived the earth with a lively gaiety. The ice in the bay and river had melted away, and the steamboat had again began its course. The rumbling water-fall was again heard at the mill, the pensive stream stole its way through the forest, reflecting from its lucid bosom the light cloud which dwelt in the air--floating on the gentlest zephyrs. The hills and mountains teemed with verdure, and the serpentine valleys were shaded by a friendly foliage. All nature flourished, grew, and expanded, calling forth e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns of grat.i.tude and piety, and boldly declaring that a celestial Being overshadows us with his providence.

As soon as the family were settled in the country, the parents of Alida made preparation to call the children together in commemoration of their father's birthday. When the time arrived for the celebration of this festive scene, the morning arose with every beauty that could bid fair for a cheerful day, and the company a.s.sembled at an early hour. Bonville was among those who arrived from the village. He appeared in excellent spirits, as if some new thought had entered his mind, which had given him new hopes of success. He informed Alida, in the course of the afternoon, that he had received intimation from a friend in England, that Theodore was now living in London. After hazarding many conjectures respecting him, he then ventured to add that he hoped he had not met there any new object, to cause him to become forgetful of former friends. Displeasure was manifest in the countenance of Alida, at this suspicion, although she feared it might be true. Theodore had promised to be faithful in a correspondence, and he certainly might have found opportunities, since the happy change of affairs in the country, to make some communications to his friends, if he had been so disposed. Again she thought, as they had been separated by parental authority, that it might have its influence to cause him to become altogether forgetful; and her spirits now sunk under the idea of Theodore's inconstancy.

Bonville continued to speak of him with indifference, observing attentively how Alida was affected. He inquired earnestly if she had ever received any intelligence from him, during his absence, (as he thought he might have written to her brother.) She answered him in the negative. He expressed his surprise, and after giving many dark intimations of his perfidy, he changed the subject.

Alida was before this extremely pensive and thoughtful, and these injurious insinuations of Theodore, increased her dejection. She once firmly believed she had a friend she could lean upon under all circ.u.mstances, and his falsity appeared to her now confirmed. A kind of gloomy superst.i.tion pervaded her mind, an anxious foreboding of future evil, which all her pious reflections and reasoning powers could not wholly control. She endeavoured to repress these painful sensations, when in the presence of her parents; but the eyes of her father frequently rested on her in filial anxiety. Her brother likewise would often observe her innate sadness, and whatever his thoughts might be as to the cause, he was still reserved, and forebore to name any thing to his sister.

Although Bonville was sometimes conscious of his injustice towards Theodore, and felt ashamed of his conduct, he was still determined to proceed with reiterated calumnies, to the ear of Alida, with the hope to ensure to himself her hand before Theodore would probably return to America.

L' innocenza a e costretta a sofferire, talvolta le piu crudeli persecuzioni; ma, con vergogna e con danno della calumnia e della malvagita, alla fine pur ne trionfa.

The appearance of Bonville was imposing to look upon, his countenance illumined by seeming sincerity and candour, no one could retain an idea for any length of time, that was altogether detrimental. To a treacherous heart, he joined a frankness of manner which amused and interested every one in his favour. Though no one was ever more careless of his veracity, yet he carried the appearance of authenticity in all he said. He had never been used to restraint or disappointment, by the silly indulgence of his parents, and seemed confident that he should succeed in all his particular wishes, and thought that all obstacles could be surmounted by his own machinations and management.

The evening was drawing near its close by a round of innocent amus.e.m.e.nts, when a letter was handed Alida from her father, that he had received from a friend in the city. It contained the unwelcome and unexpected news of the death of Mr. Bolton, who arrived at Savannah at an unfavourable season of the year, at a period when an epidemic fever prevailed. He caught the infection, and a few days terminated the existence of this amiable and accomplished youth. He was pious, benevolent and charitable. He possessed a wisdom firm and unchangeable, strictly adhering to the principles of the church and the Christian religion, and was steadfast in his opinions against all opposition. He was deeply regretted by a numerous acquaintance. His aunt mourned the loss of her favourite nephew, and Alida's father likewise deplored his premature death, although he had thought proper to oppose his wishes.

CHAPTER XXIV.

There she might read in nature's page the wonders of Creation, almighty power, infinite wisdom and unbounded might. There truths that entertain, reward the searching mind, and onward lead inquiring thought. The curious wonders still unfold, and rise upon the view. The mind rejoicing, comments as she reads, and raises still to the Almighty Power increasing homage.

The summer was past its meridian, and had shed abroad its warmest influences, and enriched the various scenes of nature with the luxuriance and beauty of its foliage. In the meantime, Alida departed again from her father's house for the city, to join a party composed of gentlemen and matrons, Albert her brother, with several young ladies, who all left the port of New-York for the Falls of Niagara. Her pensive mind became cheered and animated as the gallant steamer left the sh.o.r.es of the city and moved majestically over the smooth face of the Hudson.

The morning was extremely beautiful, and she surveyed with a new and alleviating pleasure, the various and extensive prospect of the surrounding country. The scenery on the river at this season surpa.s.sed all description, and exhibited a landscape worthy to relate in history.

The borders of the river beautifully interspersed with cottages, villages, and large flouris.h.i.+ng towns, elegant country-seats, with grounds tastefully laid out, which afforded to the eye of the traveller a novel and enchanting appearance. They arrived about sunset at the city of Albany, and took lodgings at Cruttenden's boarding-house, on an eminence near the Capitol or State-house.

This city, which is situated on the right bank of the Hudson, and stands westward upon a rising ground, received its name, when in possession of the English, in honour of James II., who was the duke of York and Albany. On the following morning they took a walk through the city. In consequence of its vicinity to the b.a.l.l.ston, Saratoga, and New Lebanon Springs, in the fas.h.i.+onable season the hotel was so full of strangers that no more could be accommodated.

Albany has received a new impulse, an increase of commerce, and expects to reap the most happy results from the Erie ca.n.a.l, which commences here, and runs a distance of three hundred and sixty-two miles to Lake Erie. The company took a walk to the new basin, into which the ca.n.a.l empties. It is separated from the Hudson by a dam which runs parallel with the river.

On the morning of the 14th of August they took pa.s.sage on board of the Albany, one of the ca.n.a.l packet-boats, for Lake Erie. This ca.n.a.l, which is three hundred and sixty-two miles in length, with eighty-three locks between the Hudson river and Lake Erie, which lies six hundred and eighty-eight feet above the level of the former river. The packet-boat took them from thence to Schenectady. It was covered, and contained a s.p.a.cious cabin. On account of the great number of the locks, the progress of their journey was but slow. The boat was drawn by three horses, that walked upon a narrow path leading along the ca.n.a.l, and beneath the numerous bridges which are thrown over it.

The distance from Albany to Schenectady by land is only fifteen miles, and persons are enabled to travel it in a very short time in a stage coach, but as they were anxious to see the ca.n.a.l, they preferred going by water twenty-eight miles.

The city of Troy, five miles and a half above Albany, is pleasantly situated on the left bank of the river, at the foot of several tolerably high mountains, one of which is called Mount Ida. There is a branch ca.n.a.l, which has two locks, and establishes a communication with Troy.

They soon arrived at a place where there were no less than nine locks, with an ascent of seventy-eight feet. In front, and to the right of this, is another ca.n.a.l, which unites with the Hudson and the ca.n.a.l from Lake Champlain. At this place they left the Hudson, and directed their course along the Mohawk river. During their ride, they observed a covered wooden bridge, which extends over the latter river, a short distance from its mouth, and is about six hundred feet in length, supported by fifteen wooden piers. There was a fine view of the famous Cohoes Falls of the Mohawk river, seventy-eight feet in height, and about four hundred feet wide. In the spring, when these falls extend over the entire bed of the Mohawk, they are said to be extremely magnificent. During this season of dry weather, they presented a handsome appearance, though they were very small, the river being almost completely dried up. Finding great difficulty in continuing the ca.n.a.l on the right bank of the Mohawk, they were obliged here to carry it to the opposite side of the river by means of an aqueduct bridge one thousand one hundred and eighty-eight feet in length. This bridge is supported by twenty-six stone columns, on which account they have placed a chevaux-de-frieze to keep off the ice in the river. The ca.n.a.l is cut through the rocks almost the whole distance, where it runs along the left bank of the Mohawk, and presents a very handsome appearance. Twelve miles further on, it returns again to the right bank of the river, by a similar aqueduct, supported by sixteen piers. Four miles farther on is Schenectady, where they arrived after sunset. Between this town and Albany they pa.s.sed no less than twenty-seven locks. At this place they left the packet-boat, and found excellent lodgings at Given's hotel, which, after the great heat they had endured during the day, was exceedingly agreeable. Early on the next morning they walked through the town, and visited Union College, which consists of two large buildings situated at a short distance from the town, upon a little eminence. From this building there is a beautiful view of the town and of the Mohawk valley. They left Schenectady early in the morning on board the packet-boat, which had engaged to take them to Utica, eighty miles distant, by an early hour the next day. The ca.n.a.l again ran along the well cultivated valley of the Mohawk, and the prospect of the country, on account of the foliage of the trees upon the heights, was beautiful.

The village of Amsterdam consists of a few neat houses. The ca.n.a.l is carried over two rivers, called Schoharie, Canajoharie, from which it receives the most of its water. At this place the horses were conveyed to the opposite side of the two rivers by means of a ferry-boat. At the first ferry is a small village, called Fort Hunter, where at the time of the revolution there had been a fort, or rather a redoubt of the same name. Towards evening they pa.s.sed through a valley, which is formed by two rocky mountains. There are twenty locks between Schenectady and Utica. The day was intolerably warm, and the company very much oppressed by the heat, but in the evening fortunately there was a thunder-shower, which cooled the air. They pa.s.sed over an aqueduct bridge during the night, which stands over a solace called Little Falls. Towards morning they pa.s.sed through a well-cultivated region called German Flats, which was settled by some Germans during the time of Queen Anne. At about ten o'clock they arrived at Utica, which is intersected by the ca.n.a.l, and is a large, flouris.h.i.+ng town. In fact it is only here that a person begins to admire the great improvements in cultivation, and gets perfectly new ideas of the works of man and of his enterprising genius. Utica, on the right bank of the Mohawk, has two banks and four churches. It has also several taverns, the largest of which called Shepherd's hotel, they found excellent accommodations. There were besides many large and convenient stores, a bookstore, and printing office. The number of travellers this summer were unusually great, especially from the southern states.

CHAPTER XXV.

When first beside the lake thy turrets rose, Extending far around in simple pride, A novel beauty o'er the landscape throws, Where gentle waters softly murmuring glide.

At Utica the gentlemen hired a stage to visit the Falls of Trenton, distant fourteen miles. They were accompanied in this route by a number of pa.s.sengers from New-York and North Carolina. They crossed the Mohawk upon a covered wooden bridge. After this the road gradually ascended to a forest, which was in part cleared for new fields. At a little distance from the falls is a tavern, where they left the carriage, and went on foot through thick woods, from which a pair of stairs conducted to the falls. The beautiful ma.s.s of green around, the azure sky, the large and variegated rocks, and the three falls, produce a most happy effect. The rocks of these falls are so excavated by the water, that they have the form of a common kettle. The upper falls, which are about ninety feet high, are the grandest. They dined at the tavern, and towards evening returned to Utica.

The day was fine and pleasant. They regretted that it was too late, upon their return thither, to visit a hydrostatic lock designed to weigh the boats which pa.s.s on the ca.n.a.l. Having seen enough of the ca.n.a.l, and being anxious to see the newly-settled country between this place and Niagara, they continued their journey the next day in the stage coach.

With this intention they left Utica at four o'clock in the morning, and the same day arrived at Auburn, distant seventy-three miles. They pa.s.sed through twelve villages on their route from Utica to Auburn. Between Manchester and Vernon day dawned, and they found themselves in a rather wild country, in the midst of a wilderness. Behind the village of Oneida, the road led along a considerable hill, from which they had a beautiful view of Oneida lake, which presented the appearance of a large stream. Here there were a number of extensive prospects, which, however, as there was but little cultivated land and few houses, were rather uniform. Something further on, after they had left Oneida, they came to a small lake, called Salt Lake, which is in the midst of a forest, and has on its banks three picturesquely situated towns, Liverpool, Salina, and Syracuse. At Salina are rich salt springs, the water of which is collected in reservoirs, and it is evaporated by the heat of the sun to procure the salt. Beyond Sullivan they pa.s.sed through the village of Chitteningo. A branch of the Erie ca.n.a.l forms a kind of harbour at this place. They dined at Manlius, a new village. From the ca.n.a.l, which forms an angle here, they drove in a southerly direction in order to keep on the plains. The two Onondago villages are pleasant places.

Beyond Marcellus the night unfortunately closed in, which prevented their seeing Skaneateles Lake, as well as the town of the same name.

About nine o'clock in the evening they arrived at Auburn, and found good accommodations at one of the public houses.

At four o'clock next morning they again set out in the stage coach for Rochester, distant sixty-nine miles. It was just day-light when they arrived in the vicinity of Cayuga, on the lake of the same name. This lake empties into the Seneca river, which afterwards unites with the Mohawk. They crossed the lake, not far from its mouth, on a wooden bridge one mile in length. On the opposite side of the lake is a large toll-house. At a short distance from this they arrived at Seneca Falls, so called in consequence of the little falls of the Seneca river, which are close by, and are chiefly formed by a mill-dam. Beyond Waterloo the road in some places was made of logs, so that the pa.s.sengers were very disagreeably jolted. Geneva is situated at the north point of Seneca Lake. The town derives its name from its similarity of situation to Geneva in Switzerland. The Franklin hotel, situated on the bank of the lake, is both s.p.a.cious and beautiful.

Canandaigua, which lies on the north point of the lake of the same name, is an extremely pleasant town. The court was sitting here, and there was a large collection of people, so that the town exhibited a very lively appearance. At this place the road separates, the left goes through Batavia and several small villages to Buffalo on Lake Erie; the right to Rochester, and thence to Lake Ontario and the Falls of Niagara. And as this road again approaches the Erie ca.n.a.l, it was said to be the most interesting; on this account it was given the preference, though the longest route. They left Canandaigua in the afternoon, and rode through Victor, Mendon, and Pittsford, to Rochester. They arrived at Rochester at half-past eight o'clock in the evening, and took lodgings at the Eagle tavern. They crossed the Genessee river, which divides Rochester into two parts, on a wooden bridge built firmly and properly, and the next morning walked through the town. Several hundred yards below the bridge the Genessee river is about two hundred yards wide, and has a fall of ninety-five feet. Above the falls is a race which conducts the water to several mills, and it again flows up into the river below the falls, where it forms three beautiful cascades.

Rochester is one of the most flouris.h.i.+ng towns in the state of New-York.

At this place the Erie ca.n.a.l is carried over the Genessee river by a stone aqueduct bridge. This aqueduct, which is about one hundred yards above the Genessee Falls, rests upon a slate rock, and is seven hundred and eighty feet long.

The party now left Rochester at nine o'clock, and went on board the ca.n.a.l packet-boat Ohio. The ca.n.a.l, between Lockport and Rochester, runs the distance of sixty-three miles through a tolerably level country, and north of the Rochester ridge. This ridge consists of a series of rocks, which form the chain of mountains which commences north of Lake Erie, stretches eastward to the Niagara river, confines it, and forms its falls; then continues its course, and forms the different falls which are north of Lake Ontario, and is at length lost in the neighbourhood of the Hudson. The ca.n.a.l runs a distance through sombre forests, when they reached Lockport on the 20th of August, about seven o'clock in the morning. At this place the ca.n.a.l is carried over the ridge by five large locks, through which the water is raised to the height of seventy-six feet. The locks are ten in number, being arranged in two parallel rows, so that while the boats ascend in one row, they may descend at the same time in the other.

Lockport is an extremely pleasant place, and is situated just above the locks. At Lockport they took a dearborn for Buffalo, where they were anxious to go, in order to see the union of the ca.n.a.l with Lake Erie.

Though a good stage runs between Lockport and the Falls of Niagara, they went in this bad vehicle five miles to the navigable part of the ca.n.a.l.

They then took pa.s.sage in a boat at Cottensburgh. At this place also, the ca.n.a.l is cut through a rock to the depth of about thirty feet. About two or three miles farther on it terminates in the Tonawanta creek, which serves as a ca.n.a.l for twelve miles. The creek is about fifty yards wide, and runs through a dense and beautiful forest. At the new town of Tonawanta, the creek unites with the Niagara river, where the sluice leads off. At this place also Alida and her company had the first view of the Niagara river, which conveys the waters of Lake Erie into Lake Ontario, from the other extremity of which flows the St. Lawrence. In this river they observed Grand Island. During the late war, the Niagara, it is well known, formed the boundary line between the United States and the British provinces in Upper Canada, and this island bore testimony of the conflict.

CHAPTER XXVI.

From war's dread ravages again is seen, A s.p.a.cious town, and Buffalo the name, Now rising from its ashes, spreads around.

Various new structures fill the empty ground.

From Tonawanta to Buffalo is eight miles, five of which they travelled on the ca.n.a.l which runs along the bank of the Niagara river as far as Black Rock.

Buffalo was burnt during the late war by the British, but it appeared to be already rising from its ashes with increased beauty.