Twenty-first Day
12 Cornelia Street,Utica, New York,May Twenty-ninth.
After considerable trouble in finding a saddle blanket for Paul, to take the place of the saddle cloth used until we reached Little Falls, I started from that romantic town at nine o'clock, halting at Ilion for dinner. This village, well known through the firm of the Remingtons, is on the south bank of the Mohawk, twelve miles from Utica. From here the famous Remington machines and rifles are sent all over the world.
Farrington met me two miles east of Utica and escorted me back to the city, conducting Colonel Finley and myself to rooms which had been engaged for us through the hospitality of J. C. Bates.
Left my pleasant quarters here to make a few observations about town, and found much to arrest my attention. A century ago Utica was known as "Old Fort Schuyler" from a small stockade of that name, built on the site in 1750. As the country grew more peaceful, and the life of the future city began, the name was changed. A gradual slope of the land from the river gave from the more elevated parts some very fine views; and the public parks with their shade trees and gay flowers made a rich adornment to a naturally attractive city. The great Erie Canal passes through the centre of the city and is joined by the Chenango Canal at this point. Among the landmarks are the homes of Roscoe Conkling and Horatio Seymour.
Twenty-second Day
Stanwix Hall,Rome, New York,May Thirtieth.
Was compelled to remain in Utica until four o'clock in the afternoon in order to have my saddle padded. This brief delay, while favoring my equine friend, was in some particulars also favorable to his rider, as it afforded me an excellent opportunity to gather information I desired concerning the growth of this enterprising town.
Rode up to Rome on the south bank of the Mohawk. Soon after my arrival at the Stanwix I met a large number of Grand Army comrades. Room "14" had been engaged and made a rendezvous, and here until a late hour the experiences of the late war were told over again and our battles re-fought. This gathering of comrades to celebrate Memorial Day was marked by deep and enthusiastic feeling; and, although my day's journey had somewhat fatigued me, I felt this was no time to show a lack of spirit; so I cheerfully yielded to the old maxim, "When in Rome do as the Romans do." Through the courtesy of Captain Joseph Porter, then Commander of Skillen Post 47, I was introduced to Hon. H. J. Coggeshall, of Waterville, Colonel G. A. Cantine, Hon. W. F. Bliss, Mr. Taylor, editor of the Sentinel, and many others.
Rome lies on a level stretch of land at the head of the valley, whence I could see its spires as I approached. On its site once stood old Fort Stanwix, of Revolutionary fame, which cost the British £660,000 sterling. It was built as a defence against the French in Canada, and was the first settlement before the French War. From that time until the close of the Revolution it was an important frontier post. Rome is the centre of a large dairying interest, the cheese factory system having originated here.
Twenty-third Day
Chittenango House,Chittenango, New York,May Thirty-first.
Had a late breakfast at the Stanwix and, after a stroll through the streets of Rome, called for my horse at ten o'clock, and bidding adieu to Grand Army comrades who had assembled to see me start from their city, mounted and rode out of town. The journey, as usual, since leaving Albany, lay along the New York Central. The roads were dry and favorable, the weather settled, and the scenery through this section of the Empire State such as to make my journey most enjoyable. Chittenango was not reached until ten o'clock, as the distance from Rome made this one of the longest rides noted in a single day. The twinkling lights of the village looked very pleasant as I neared my destination, marking here and there the homes of its hundreds of inhabitants. I found upon inquiry at the Chittenango House that I was the only guest, which augured well for a good night's sleep.
CHAPTER VII.
TWO DAYS AT SYRACUSE
Had an early breakfast at Chittenango and calling for Paul at eight o'clock mounted and rode forward, with the city of Syracuse as my evening destination. Nothing of especial interest occurred to vary the day's journey. Syracuse was reached at four o'clock in the afternoon, and the remainder of the day was spent in walks and drives through the city which I had visited several times in former years, and of whose history I had a fair knowledge. Long before the white man came, a band of Iroquois had built their wigwams in the low basin, almost entirely surrounded by hills, that lies to the south of Lake Onondaga, and from here followed the pursuits of war and peace. We first hear of this Indian village in 1653 through the Jesuit missionary, Father Le Moyne, who had come to establish good feeling between the Iroquois and other Indian tribes; and we see strange evidences of a counteracting influence made probably by his own countrymen in the discovery of European weapons and ammunition, that were distributed among the red men about the same time. For more than a hundred years after this, the present site of Syracuse, then an unpromising stretch of swamps, was the home of the wolf and bear. Over its dreary waste the cry of the wild cat, the warning of the rattlesnake and the hooting of the owl lent their sounds to the weird chorus of Nature, and it was here that the wily Indian came to seek his game. It was through Father Le Moyne, too, that we hear of the great Salt Springs, which he visited at the southern end of the lake in company with some Huron and Onondaga chiefs. The Indians, unable to comprehend the strange effect of salt and clear water bubbling from the same fountain, had a superstition that the springs were possessed by an evil spirit and were afraid to drink from them; but when the white man began to share their old haunts, we hear of the bewitched water being fearlessly used, and the evil spirit converted into a propitious one. It was Major Asa Danforth and his companion, Colonel Comfort Tyler, who began early in the present century the enterprise which has since proved such a splendid success. These two pioneers started out afoot for the springs with no other implements than an axe, chain and kettle, which seem primitive enough to us who know of the means that are now employed in the making of this great staple. Arrived at the springs, two young trees were cut, a stout branch placed in their crochets and on this the kettle was hung. When the work was finished, the men hid their implements in the bushes for safety, shouldered their rich possession and started home over the ground that in a few years was to be the scene of such striking and sudden changes.
Joshua Forman was the first man who saw a promising field in the unhealthy land south of Lake Onondaga, and it was he who first thought of a plan for its improvement.
With characteristic persistency he carried out his ideas, and with the co-operation of James Geddes, a surveyor and fellow-townsman, did more to convince men of the practicability of laying a canal route through central New York than any other man. At that time the advocate of such an undertaking was considered mad. Even the President shared the public view of the matter, and when the zealous member from Onondaga laid the plans before this incredulous gentleman, Jefferson remarked: "It is a splendid project, and may be executed a century hence." It must have been a satisfaction to Judge Forman to see this inland water-course completed a few years later, and to realize the success of the great enterprise.
When the breaking up of the unhealthy soil caused so much sickness and so many deaths during the building of the canal at Syracuse – then "Corinth" – this thoughtful benefactor began to devise a way for improving the ground, which resulted in the passage of a bill, a year later, for lowering the lake by means of drains. This stopped the injurious overflow that occurred during the spring months and eventually put an end to the "Corduroy" and "gridiron" roads by which the "dreary waste of swamp" had been hitherto approached.
It seems strange enough now, to one riding through the beautiful and regular streets of the present city, to realize that only a few years ago its pioneers either followed these rough routes, or went around by the hills to avoid them.
In April, 1820, Syracuse had grown sufficiently to merit the distinction of a Post Office, and with this new acquisition a discussion arose about its name. It had been called successively "Webster's Landing," "South Salina," "Bogardus Corners," "Cossit's Corners" and "Milan;" but, as there was another "Milan" in the State, its last title had to be abandoned. For awhile it was known as "Corinth," but finally by an odd coincidence it was named by its first Postmaster, John Wilkinson, after the old Sicilian capital, to which it was supposed to bear a slight resemblance. Mr. Wilkinson, it is said, in reading a poetical description of the ancient city, was singularly impressed by its name, and by the fact that there was a fountain of mythological origin just beyond its walls, from which sprang clear and salt water.
At a meeting held to decide the matter, he among others eloquently discussed his choice, and it was unanimously accepted. At this time, the government official at Syracuse had charge of such vast communications from "Uncle Sam," that when the Post Office was transferred later to the office of John Durford, printer, Mr. Wilkinson carried the entire concern, "mail matter, letter bags and boxes on his shoulders!" Still, when the Marquis de La Fayette visited Syracuse, five years later, it had made such rapid advancement that it called forth his warmest congratulations. On this occasion, truly a great one among the city's records, her founder and benefactor, Joshua Forman, was chosen to express the gratitude of her people. It must have been a pleasant moment for the brave General and a proud one for the Syracusans when, in response to their hospitality, he returned Mr. Forman's courtesy in the following words: "The names of Onondaga and Syracuse, in behalf of whose population you are pleased so kindly to welcome me, recall to my mind at the same time the wilderness that, since the time I commanded on the Northern frontier, has been transformed into one of the most populous and enlightened parts of the United States; and the ancient Sicilian city, once the seat of republican institutions, much inferior, however, to those which in American Syracuse are founded upon the plain investigation, the unalloyed establishment of the rights of men, and upon the best representative forms of government. No doubt, sir, but that among the co-operators of the Revolution, the most sanguine of us could not fully anticipate the rapidity of the improvements which, on a journey of many thousand miles – the last tour alone from Washington to this place amounting to five thousand miles – have delighted me; and of which this part of the country offers a bright example. Be pleased to accept my personal thanks and in behalf of the people of Onondaga and Syracuse to receive this tribute of my sincere and respectful acknowledgments."
Could the Marquis have lived longer, and made his tour hither at this time, he would scarcely have found words to express his surprise. Perhaps no city in New York has made such great strides in so few years.
Handsome buildings have sprung up on all sides, each one adding to the sightliness of the place; and on the surrounding hills wealthy residents have built their charming homes. The University of Syracuse, a Methodist institution, built upon one of these hills in 1870, looks down invitingly upon the knowledge-seekers of the city, and with the State Armory, that stands in the park near Onondaga Creek, would furnish a brilliant equipment for some modern Minerva, were she to visit this interesting namesake of Sicilian Syracuse.
To the stranger looking out for characteristics, the Salt Works are the most prominent among them. The sheds stretch along like enormous stock-yards at one end of the city, but looking into them one discovers great vats and troughs filled with salt in every stage of evaporation. There are two ways by which the article is manufactured, one by solar and the other by artificial heat, with thirty or forty companies employing their chosen method.
Another striking feature is the unusual number of public halls. This is due to the central location which makes Syracuse a favorite point for conventions. It was my pleasure to lecture in one of these, "Shakespeare Hall," on my first evening in the city, where I was introduced by General Augustus Sniper. After this engagement, I went by rail to Buffalo, on business connected with my proposed lecture in that city, and returned the following afternoon. This was very unusual, as it was contrary to the practice of my journey to avail myself of the railway under any circumstances. My advance agents having completed preparations for my lecture at Rochester, I made arrangements to resume my journey on the following day. My short stay here gave me another opportunity to look about this interesting town, and to realize its charms at the prettiest season of the year. Some have believed that its situation, importance and beauty would win for Syracuse the honor, so long bestowed upon the good old town on the Hudson, of being the capital of the Empire State. Whether or not it will ever be known as such, it will receive the flattering acknowledgment of being one of the loveliest cities in New York.
CHAPTER VIII.
SYRACUSE TO ROCHESTER
Twenty-sixth Day
Camillus House,Camillus, New York,June Third.
Mounted in front of the Vanderbilt House, Syracuse, at four o'clock in the afternoon. A large number of friends and acquaintances had assembled to see me off, among them many G. A. R. comrades, including General Sniper and Captain Auer; the latter a companion in Libby Prison during the late war. Thomas Babcock, who had been acting as an assistant to my advance agents, accompanied me as far as Geddes, and arranged to co-operate with my brother and Mr. Farrington in preparation for my lecture. In passing through this little suburb of Geddes, whose name by the way, keeps in memory one of the prominent men of Onondaga County, my attention was drawn to a fine building standing on a hill, overlooking Syracuse. I learned that it was the New York Asylum for Imbeciles and that the site, a magnificent sweep of upland, measuring fifty-five acres, was donated by the city. I was stopped just west of here by a thunder shower and took refuge under a tree. Paul and I had waited for storms to pass over before, and made excellent rainy-day friends. We rather enjoyed resting under some shelter until the dust was well laid and the air freshened. On our arrival at Camillus, myself and horse were literally covered with mud, the result of Paul's fright on the approach of a train at a point where it was impossible to leave the turnpike. We were trotting along quietly and had just turned a bend in the road when the quick ear of the horse caught the distant rumbling of wheels. In an instant he was on the alert, and when the swift express came round the curve, made a sudden spring to the right, leaped a rail-fence, and landed in a bog where the mud was two or three feet deep. I managed to keep the saddle, but could not avoid the mire in which we had haplessly fallen.
Twenty-seventh Day
Jordan House,Jordan, New York,June Fourth.
By an hour's close application to my bespattered garments, after reaching the Camillus House, I found that I was ready to "turn in" for the night. Started forward in the morning, the ride on this perfect June day proving false the old saying that "Jordan is a hard road to travel." This village was reached about noon and I was quite prepared for the generous meal which was placed before me.
When the gnawings of hunger had been appeased I gave myself up to the agreeable quiet of Sunday afternoon.
There was ample encouragement for such a course in this cosy little retreat at the head of Lake Skaneateles, for there was not a sound from store or mill while the people were taking their Sabbath rest.
This brief halt in the march forward was very agreeable, for it gave me an opportunity to try my own powers of locomotion, so little used since leaving Boston. It was a real luxury to stroll about the quiet lanes, and scan the outlying fields from the standpoint of a modest pedestrian. In the course of my rambles I came across some photographers from Auburn who had been taking views of the scenery about here. Some of their pictures were excellent.
Twenty-eighth Day
Montezuma Hotel,Montezuma, New York,June Fifth.
The Auburn photographers whom I saw yesterday met me as I was riding out of Jordan, and proposed photographing myself and Paul. Some time was passed and several ruses resorted to in attempting to quiet the restless animal, but he skilfully avoided the camera.
At last some men who happened to be near offered their assistance, and attempted to attract the attention of the horse from a distance, by jumping up and down in a neighboring field. Paul threw his head forward, quietly and curiously watching their manœuvers. He was evidently amused, but there was no spirit to the picture. Unfortunately the "spirited" part of the scene was out of range.
This delay for vanity's sake prevented us from getting farther than Weedsport by noon, where a brief halt was made for dinner. I was met here by W. H. Ransom and the proprietor of the Howard House of Port Byron, who came over to Weedsport and escorted me to their village, where I had tea and was very courteously entertained for a few hours. On leaving Port Byron, these gentlemen rode forward with me towards Montezuma Swamp, which lies between the two towns. Here we parted company, there being no reason why they should "run the gauntlet" with me. I had heard wonderful tales of the dreaded monsters of this swamp, who were reputed to be the very worst mosquitoes on record, not excepting their famous kinsmen of the Hackensack Flats, New Jersey.
Unable to bear patiently the torture of my assailants who were swarming around me by thousands, I put spurs to Paul, and went through at a gallop; but notwithstanding this attempt to put the enemy to rout, superior numbers gave them the advantage and their victim came out covered with scars.
When Montezuma was reached we were glad to rest, for our late adventure had quite exhausted both horse and rider.
Twenty-ninth Day
Newark House,Newark, New York,June Sixth.
The journey along the line of the New York Central from Montezuma to Newark, was an exciting one to me and Paul. I had long since learned that whenever the route brought us in close proximity with the railroad, the quiet pursuit of our way was often varied by exciting moments, owing to Paul's suspicion of the "iron horse." The climax of these escapades was reached this morning, when Paul, becoming frightened by an approaching train repeated the experience of three days ago by plunging into a slough, about two miles from Newark, and completely covering himself and rider with mud. When I had recovered sufficiently to realize the situation, my thoughts were not as amiable, I fear, as those of Bunyan's good Christian, tried in like manner. The "slough of despond" was so very literal in this case.
I had made every effort to control the excited animal, but found the attempt useless; and I verily believe if he were between the infernal regions and a coming train, he would choose the former at a bound. It was rather trying to appear before people of the town in such a lamentable condition, to say nothing of the discomforts arising from damp clothing; but there was no alternative, so I followed my course; the unfortunate victim of circumstances.
Thirtieth Day
Fairport House,Fairport, New York,June Seventh.
Resumed march at eight o'clock in the morning, but the weather was so oppressively warm and sultry, that I was obliged to wait over from noon until six o'clock. Riding in the cool of the day was much more agreeable, yet, notwithstanding the physical comfort, I must confess that the lonely and unknown road gave rather a gloomy forecast to my thoughts. Beside this, I found some difficulty in obtaining necessary directions, and lost the chief charm of the journey – a view of the beautiful country through which I was passing.
It had not been my intention to do any travelling after sundown unless the heat made it absolutely necessary, but in this instance I felt justified in changing the original plan. Moving along through the unfamiliar scenes, I missed the pleasant coloring of woods and fields under the broad light of day, the noisy hum the sunshine calls forth, and the sound of the birds, always the sweetest music to me. Instead of these there was the mystical silence of night, broken only by the clatter of Paul's hoofs over the dusty road. Four hours' steady travel brought us in sight of the straggling lights of the little post-village of Fairport, where we stopped for the night. Found several Rochester papers awaiting me here, which contained pleasant reference to my proposed lecture at Corinthian Hall.