The worst thing about these boats is the night travelling. The cabins are confined, and nothing but a red curtain separates the women from the men so that necessarily there must be much exposure and consequent familiarity. I could not help perceiving a great passion for double entendre among Mr. White’s family including himself, and a coarseness on the part of Miss Caroline which I could not quite admire. We have however thus far got along very pleasantly together and I deem myself very fortunate in making the trip with acquaintances.

This morning we found ourselves approaching Rochester, the largest and most flourishing of the internal canal towns. As the road was far more direct than the canal, I got off and walked four miles into that town. The morning was fine but it clouded over and rained all the afternoon. My walk was upon a rough road from holes but without stones and between wheat fields which appeared to promise well for the harvest. Rochester gives every indication of what we call business, i.e. the arts of procuring subsistence. The canal is choked up with boats and the falls are lined with flour mills to grind the staple of the Country. There is a fine stone aqueduct over the river which is however a little too narrow. I had time to read the papers and see something of the town before the boat arrived. Here we remained until four o’clock in the afternoon and we had intended to improve the time to go and see the Gennessee Falls which are somewhat celebrated but the heavy rain that set in prevented the ladies and discouraged us. I saw enough however of the place itself. It has the mushroom look which pervades all this Country and if it shows how much can be done by one generation it also shows how much more remains to be done by a succession of them.

We started at four and made our way through several very pretty towns until it became too late to look at them. Along here are the rich farms which though not picturesque furnish a great proportion of the food of the Country.

We had another companion here in the person of a Mr. Gerrish who was going to Grand Island under the patronage of Mr. White. He is a projector and his present business appears to be the establishment of a Steamboat ferry to that Island from the main. I conversed with 20him and found him acute as most Yankees are in matters of profitable enterprise. The evening was damp and gave me some notion of an Ague and fever country.

The morning was cloudy and it rained heavily at noon, but the afternoon was clear and bright. We followed our course steadily until we reached Lockport at eleven. This is the most considerable work on this great Canal. Here a rise takes place of sixty feet in the level at once, which is managed by five successive Locks and then there is a deep cutting through a ridge of rocks for about two miles. The excavation is from six to twenty feet high. Here it is that one may consider the grandeur of an undertaking like this. Three hundred and fifty miles of artificial water navigation, two of which alone at Lockport were enough as an enterprise. I think more highly of DeWitt Clinton’s courage and capacity since I have been here.1 We passed through the ascending side of the Locks with unusually small delay, regretting only that the heavy rain shower which fell deprived us of the opportunity to examine the work more minutely. Our course after this was uninterrupted.

We soon reached Pendleton where the Tonawanda Creek becomes the Canal and shows how far superior natural banks will always seem to the works of art. The Creek is quite wide and the Current which sets down relieves very much the draught of the horses. At a little stopping place, we heard a low, rumbling sound which attracted my attention. The boatmen announced it to be the Fall of Niagara. That Fall which I had come so far to see was now within hearing distance at least. I cannot precisely describe the feeling I had upon the occasion. It was not very powerful and yet it was singular. The distance in a straight line was probably about fifteen miles, and the wind was favorable.

We reached our destination, a little village called Tonawanda, situated at the point where the Creek flows into the Niagara River. Opposite is Grand Island, the scene of Mr. White’s speculation. When the Canal was built a dam was placed across the Creek in order to throw back the water and raise the level to Lockport by which a further cutting of three feet through the rock might be saved. The same policy made it necessary to extend the Canal eight miles to Buffalo instead of stopping at this the nearest point. The high water of this season has

however carried away the dam and thus opened the course of the Creek. Nothing can be more uninviting than the appearance of the place and yet Mr. White has fitted up a place to live here the whole Summer. The banks are low and marshy and the rains have covered every thing with mud. After tea, we retired early, being delighted to get a good bed again even though a feather bed, after the hard accommodations of the boat.