CHAPTER IX.
FOUR DAYS AT ROCHESTER
Anticipating rain during the forenoon and fearing that my journey might be interrupted in consequence, I started at an early hour on the morning of June eighth from Fairport, and riding at a brisk pace came into Rochester at eleven o'clock.
Just before reaching the city, a halt was made at a little hamlet, two or three miles out, for the purpose of treating Paul's back. Heretofore the necessity of meeting my lecture appointments along the route had given me no opportunity to attend to the painful bruise, although I had been studying the various modes of treatment recommended by veterinary surgeons from the time I left Boston until now. The peculiar nature of my journey gave me an excellent opportunity to follow this especial course, and I felt confident of my ability to do all that was possible for my faithful horse, yet at every stopping-place some kindly disposed admirer of the horse had some favorite prescription which he had found a never-failing cure for the particular affliction that daily confronted me. The enterprising little hamlet in question had its famed savant, who thought it would be highly imprudent of me to proceed farther without his advice – and a bottle of his "Seven-Sealed Wonder."
Anxious to make Rochester at the earliest moment possible, I had no time to discuss the merits of this great elixir, so, noting the price on the face of the bottle, I handed this modest disciple of Æsculapius the amount due, although he generously protested, and congratulating myself upon being the most highly favored traveller between Boston and San Francisco, rode away.
On a hill just beyond the village and well out of sight, I came upon an old barn standing to the left of the road, on whose front I noticed a huge door with a knothole in the centre. Now was my opportunity for unsealing the "Wonder." In an instant I brought Paul to a standstill and rising in the saddle, tried my luck. The "Wonder" fell short of the mark, but it met a resistance from the old door which effectually tested its powers, and in my humble opinion placed the good doctor high up in his profession. This momentary diversion over, I again resumed the march, vowing that this would be my last experiment with "sealed wonders" and that hereafter I would confine my treatment to battling Paul's back with warm water and castile soap, whose virtue I had learned in the cavalry service during the war.
Found that the Rochester papers had been discussing my military record before my arrival, and that the Express and Sunday Morning Times had upheld my cause against the Union, which had ventured some falsehoods on the ground that my "youthful appearance" belied my experience as a soldier. With this pleasant criticism came another greeting from the city press. It had been announced that I would probably arrive at the Osburn House at four in the afternoon, hence it was not strange that my sudden appearance at an earlier hour caused some surprise and led to the impression that I had come forward by rail, and that my horseback journey was possibly not an entirely genuine affair. I may add that it had not occurred to me that my trip across country was of sufficient importance to warrant any criticism upon my methods so long as I met my lecture appointments promptly. The sharp comment had no more serious result than that of increasing the lecture receipts in the cities which followed.
My tenth lecture was delivered in Corinthian Hall, at the usual hour in the evening, the introduction being made by Colonel J. A. Reynolds.
Next day, June ninth, gave me an opportunity to look up the familiar places and to note the changes that had occurred since my last visit to the city. The cleanliness and beauty of the streets, now in their summer glory of tree and flower, made such a tour of inspection anything but unpleasant.
East avenue, where the "flour and coal kings" are at home, is an attractive place in which to see individual taste carried out in architecture and horticulture. Down town, where the "kings" are at work, there is a brisk activity which pervades everything, like an unending accompaniment to the Falls, whose sounds always mingle with those of the busy life around them. Perhaps it was this continual encouragement from the river, offered to her early pioneers, that has given Rochester such a notable career and made her the metropolis of the Genesee Valley: for with that first mill-wheel set into the stream by old "Indian Allen," the faithful waters have kept up a continual flow of good fortune.
Her characteristic enterprise, milling, begun by this same Allen, has been an unfailing source of wealth; the golden grain with almost magic transformation filling the coffers of her merchants and giving her the security that a healthy financial condition brings. Besides this, she owes much to that liberal-minded gentleman, Colonel Nathaniel Rochester, who came with his family from Maryland when the settlement was in its infancy, and made his home in "the pleasant valley." It is amusing to fancy the unique procession, headed by the Colonel and his sons on horseback, that started out towards "the wild west" in the summer of 1802. There were carriages for the ladies and servants, and wagons for provisions and household goods, stretched out in formidable array: for railroads were out of the question then.
We hear that the travellers met with cordial hospitality at the villages and towns along their route, and that their arrival created quite a sensation. In fact it was an historical event. Two friends of the Rochesters, William Fitzhugh and Charles Carroll, cast in their fortunes with them, and in 1802 bought together the three hundred acres at the Upper Falls, which were laid out for a settlement ten years later. In those times the prestige of a name went far towards establishing a reputation, and the one chosen by the people of the settlement was afterward proudly placed upon the municipal banner. Soon after the advent of Colonel Rochester and his friends, the scheme for making a water communication between the Lakes and the Sea began to be eagerly discussed, and there were not a few energetic representatives from "Rochesterville" who lent their efforts towards the carrying out of the plan. When the canal was completed there was the wildest enthusiasm in Rochester, which would perhaps have a greater benefit than any other place along the route: for with her big grain and coal interests, her future prosperity seemed assured.
The natural course of events followed. Improvement and embellishment began on all sides. New buildings and enterprises started up on solid foundations, and provision was made for those who might "drop out of the ranks," in the selection of beautiful Mount Hope, one of the loveliest cemeteries in point of natural charm in this country. It lies on a wooded slope between the lake and the city, and its pathways, shadowed by the great trees from the "forest primeval," are the playgrounds for the wild little creatures who make their homes there unmolested.
Back again into the town where the sound of the Falls is heard, and one thinks of the odd touch a simple character has added to the traditions of the place, and whose name, to a stranger, is so often associated with that of Rochester. This quaint figure is none other than "Sam Patch, the jumper," who met his fate by leaping into the Genesee at the "Falls," and who left as a legacy the warning maxim, "Be careful, or, like Sam Patch, you may jump once too often." History has chronicled Sam's last speech, delivered from the platform, just before his fatal leap; which, as a sample of rustic oratory, is amusing.
He said: "Napoleon was a great man and a great general. He conquered armies, and he conquered nations, but he couldn't jump the Genesee Falls. Wellington was a great man and a great soldier. He conquered armies, and he conquered nations, and he conquered Napoleon, but he couldn't jump the Genesee Falls. That was left for me to do, and I can do it, and will."
Rochester, the capital of Monroe County, New York, was first settled in 1810, and incorporated as a city in 1834. It is situated on both sides of the Genesee River, seven miles from Lake Ontario, two hundred and fifty miles from Albany and sixty-nine from Buffalo by railway. An aqueduct of stone carries the Erie Canal across the river, the cost of which amounted to over half a million dollars. The city is well laid out with wide and handsome streets, lined with shade trees.
Within the city limits the Genesee undergoes a sudden descent of two hundred and sixty-eight feet, falling in three separate cataracts within a distance of two miles. The roar of these falls is heard continually all over the city, but no one is inconvenienced by it in the slightest degree. The cataracts are believed to have formed, at one time, a single fall, but the different degrees of hardness of the rocks have caused an unequal retrograde movement of the falls, until they have assumed their present position. At the Upper Falls, the river is precipitated perpendicularly ninety-six feet. It then flows between nearly perpendicular walls of rock, for about a mile and a quarter to the Middle Falls, where it has another descent of twenty-five feet. One hundred rods below, at the Lower Falls, it again descends eighty-four feet, which brings the stream to the level of Lake Ontario, into which it enters.
The immense water-power thus afforded in the centre of one of the finest wheat-growing regions in the world, with the facilities of transportation afforded by the Erie Canal, Lake Ontario, and the several railways, have given a vast impulse to the prosperity of Rochester and it has, in consequence, become one of the most important manufacturing cities in the East. At the period of my visit, there were eighteen flour mills in operation, grinding annually 2,500,000 bushels of wheat. The manufacturing interests are immense – ready-made clothing being the most extensive, and boots and shoes ranking next. Other leading manufactures are those of iron bridges, India-rubber goods, carriages, furniture, optical instruments, steam engines, glassware and agricultural machinery. Of flourishing industries may be mentioned breweries, tobacco factories, blast furnaces and fruit canning.
The largest nurseries in America are found here. Thousands of acres within a short distance of the city are devoted to the cultivation of fruit trees, and millions of these trees are annually shipped to other States and foreign countries. Over $2,000,000 is the annual product of these prolific nurseries.
The city is fast becoming a great distributing centre for coal, which is conveyed in vessels to all points on the Great Lakes. Rochester, being the business centre of the fertile Genesee Valley, shows a steady growth in business and wealth. It has a magnificent system of water-works, constructed at a cost of $3,250,000, the water being supplied from two sources – one from the river, which is used for extinguishing fires and running light machinery; the other from Hemlock Lake, twenty-nine miles from the centre of the city, and four hundred feet above it. This water is sent through sixty miles of mains, the pressure being such as to throw from the hydrants a stream one hundred and thirty feet perpendicularly. No city is more perfectly protected from fire.
At the corner of Main and State streets are the Powers' Buildings, a peculiar block of stores, built of stone, glass and iron, seven stories high. In the upper halls is a fine collection of paintings. A tower surmounts the building, from which a fine view of the city and its surroundings is obtained. "The Arcade" is roofed with glass and numerous fine stores line its sides. Opposite stands the County Court House, a handsome building of gray limestone, with a tower one hundred and seventy-five feet high. The handsomest building in the city is, I think, the Rochester Savings Bank, corner of Main and Fitzhugh streets. The First Baptist, the First Presbyterian and the Catholic Cathedral of St. Patrick are the finest church edifices.
There are twelve spacious parks here, and four elegant bridges cross the Genesee. The Rochester University, founded by the Baptist denomination in 1850, is located on a tract of twelve acres, a little to the east of the city. It has a valuable library and mineralogical cabinet. The State Reform School or Western House of Refuge for vicious boys is an imposing edifice, containing usually about four hundred inmates. Mount Hope, the site of the cemetery – before referred to – is a beautiful eminence overlooking the city.
At the time of my visit, Rochester supported thirty-four newspapers and periodicals, of which six were dailies. The population was about 90,000.
It seems that Fortune has favored the "Flour City," or at least that wise heads and generous hearts have planned for her greatest good. It is proper to look back into the beginnings for the keynote to success in our American towns, and in this case, we doubtless find it in the unselfish forethought of the first men added to its wonderful natural resources.
A simple little incident, told of Colonel Rochester, illustrates the principle, whose benefit others are reaping. He was working in his garden one day, setting out fruit trees, when a neighbor came along and stopped to chat. The Colonel said: "I do not know that I shall eat any fruit from the trees I am planting, but as I eat from trees somebody planted for me, I must set out trees for those who will come after me." It was this provision for those who were to "come after" that has done much towards making Rochester what she is to-day.
CHAPTER X.
ROCHESTER TO BUFFALO
Thirty-fifth Day
Sprague House,Churchville, New York,June 12, 1876.
I found as I mounted Paul at nine o'clock in front of the Osburn House that on this twelfth of June, 1876, my day's ride would be a trying one on account of the heat, but it was impossible to change the weather and impracticable to change my plans, so I accepted the inevitable. As usual through Central New York a number of Grand Army friends and others had assembled to see me off, and to wish me a safe journey to the "Golden Gate." This cordiality, shown me all along the route, took away the sense of strangeness natural to one travelling through comparatively unfamiliar places, and gave me an idea of the hospitality of our American people. The pleasant good-byes over, Paul and I started away in the direction of Chili, which we reached about noon. Here I had dinner and passed the remainder of the day, resorting again to the evening hours for resuming my journey; and I may add that in this instance I found "something in a name," for Chili was an admirable place to keep cool in.
At six o'clock I started on towards Churchville, coming in sight of its church spires a little after sunset, and lessening the distance to San Francisco by some fifteen miles.
Notwithstanding the stop over at Chili, I was glad when we came to the end of my journey, and must confess that as I rode into the village the sight of the Sprague House gratified me more than the view of the picturesque town as I saw it outlined against the evening sky.
Thirty-sixth Day
Byron Centre Hotel,Byron Centre, New York,June Thirteenth.
Soon after breakfast in Churchville, I threw myself into the saddle and started for Bergen Corners, reaching it by eleven o'clock. This distance of two miles was covered very leisurely, for there was no pressing engagement to fill, and I could "gang my own gait." When there was anything to attract the eye – a sightly field of grain, or change of scene, I usually stopped to notice it and add one more impression to the panorama which my overland journey continually spread before me. At the "Corners" I spent a few hours quietly, if I except the slight interruptions of the landlord of the Hooper House and his family. These interruptions for curiosity's sake were easily pardoned by me, for anything a little humorous and characteristic is always acceptable to one bent on seeing life in all its phases; and besides, the softening influence of home-made bread and other country luxuries, which were furnished me here, tended to make me look charitably upon everything.
In the afternoon I left for Byron Centre, reaching it at six o'clock and making eleven miles for the day. While at supper there, the guests of the Byron Centre House were greatly amused by two itinerant photographers who, after their day's work was done, made a practice of entertaining the public with fife and drum. Through this cunning advertising scheme it was my good fortune to see one of the most interesting crowds that rustic America could bring together. These enterprising "artist musicians" seemed to possess the magic powers of Orpheus, for the villagers attracted by their strains came flocking from every direction and unconsciously made up a group which would have been irresistible to a painter, and which was certainly interesting to the ordinary observer. The sight was an entirely novel one to me, for although I am a New Yorker, and have seen roving concerns of almost every description, this particular species had never come to my notice. Through the courtesy of Charles Leonard, the proprietor of the hotel here, I was introduced to several Byron Centre gentlemen, among them Rev. Edwin Allen, who called just before my departure. Mr. Allen was most cordial, and gave me a very clever idea of the place, and the country adjacent.
Throughout my journey I was often placed under obligations of this sort. They added to my pleasure and increased my facilities for becoming acquainted with the people and the country.
Thirty-seventh Day
St. James Hotel,Batavia, New York,June Fourteenth.
A delightful shower of the previous evening cooled the air, and made my journey to Batavia exceedingly pleasant. During the day I passed some of the finest clover and wheat fields that I had seen since leaving Rochester. The rain may have brightened their color and made them look their best, but regardless of this, it is evident that the soil through this section of New York is under a very high state of cultivation, and signs of thrift are noticeable on every hand. I found, as is generally the case upon approaching a town, the farms more tastefully laid out, with their wide stretches of wheat, and their pretty conventional "kitchen gardens."
After these outskirting homes I came upon the more dignified buildings of Batavia proper, where push and enterprise have made some striking advances. It is quite a business town, having its share of manufactories, banks and newspapers, and, with its population of something over four thousand, possessing the benefits of a larger place. It is thirty-two miles west of Rochester and thirty-seven east of Buffalo. The State Institute for the Blind is situated here.
In the evening I lectured at Ellicott Hall, and was introduced by lawyer L. L. Crosby, a comrade of the Grand Army, who, during the late war, was an officer in the Fifth Michigan Cavalry. Among those who called upon me at the St. James before the lecture was Samuel A. Lester, a fellow-soldier of the Harris Light Cavalry, with whom I talked over many of our experiences in Company "E" of the "Old Regiment." Nothing has been so gratifying to me in the course of my journey, changes of scene, or new faces, as these meetings with old comrades, and the talks of camp and field. Separating at the close of the war, when the trying experiences we had equally shared had drawn us strangely together, it was natural that a glimpse of those we had known under such circumstances should be a delight after so many years. It gave a different phase to my journey, too, and made it not only a series of new and pleasant changes, but an extended visit which might delight any traveller.
Thirty-eighth Day
Crossroads,Near Croft's Station, New York,June Fifteenth.
I did not find it convenient to leave Batavia until eight o'clock in the evening, but as most of the six miles between the two places lay through a swampy region, I had a running fight with the mosquitoes, which encouraged me to make good time, so that I reached "Croft's" in an hour. On my arrival I found Babcock awaiting me with accommodation provided at a quiet little retreat situated at the Crossroads, which was hotel, grocery and farm-house in one. This odd grocery-tavern is about half a mile from the station; just far enough away to have peculiarities of its own. While its proprietor was throwing down hay for Paul from his barn loft, he in some way lost his footing and fell through, but no serious damage was done.
This little incident simply added an extra attraction to the "horse that was going to California." In the course of the morning I went to the hotel sitting-room to make some observations and to post my journal. While quietly occupied in this way I noticed the arrival of several of the men and boys of the place, who came in, seated themselves on the wooden benches that were placed around the sides of the room, and began unceremoniously to "look me over." Phoebe, the proprietor's daughter, and the ruling spirit at the "Corners," a bright little maid, who filled the offices of cook, waitress, chambermaid and clerk, assumed one of her various roles and was standing behind the counter. Soon, one of her rustic knights sauntered up to her, pipe in mouth, and called out, "Pheeb, gimme a match!" Whereupon, her father, who was standing on one side of the room, country fashion, with 'trousers over his boot-tops, and in his shirt sleeves, stepped forward and said with admirable dignity, "Phebe, sir!" adding, as the nonplused offender made some bashful apology, "You's brought up well nuff, Jack, but you've forgot some on't."
This was an unexpected turn of affairs which I scarcely expected to witness at "Croft's," but it at least gave evidence of a certain sense of refinement which we Americans would hardly be credited with outside our cultivated circles. It afforded, too, food for reflection upon that assumption of equality which in this country so often tends to familiarity. We are prone to forget that "familiarity breeds contempt."