A Ramble of Six Thousand Miles through the United States of America | Page 7

decorated. All the
windows have Venetian blinds, and generally there are one or two
covered balconies attached to the front of each house. Before the doors
there are small parterres, planted with rose-trees, and other fragrant
shrubs. About half a mile from the town are the Falls of Genessee. The
water glides over an even bed of limestone rock, ninety-six feet above
the level of the river below. There is a beautiful regularity in this fall,
but its extreme uniformity divests it of picturesque effect. Here the
celebrated diver, Sam. Patch, subsequently met his fate in diving off
this precipice. He had performed similar feats at the Falls of Niagara,
without sustaining any injury. He was not killed by the fall; but is
supposed to have fainted when midway from, his leap, as his arms were
observed to relax, and his legs to open, before he reached the water.
On my journey I met with an Englishman, a Mr. W----. He dressed à la
Mungo Park, wearing a jacket and trowsers of jean, and a straw hat. He
was a great pedestrian; had travelled through most of the southern
States, and was now on his tour through this part of the country. He
was a gentleman about fifty,--silent and retiring in his habits.
Enamoured of the orange-trees of Georgia, he intended returning there
or to Carolina, and ending his days. We agreed to visit the Falls of
Niagara together, and accordingly quitted the boat at Tonawanta. When
we had dined, and had deposited our luggage in the safe keeping of the
Niagara hotel-keeper, my companion shouldered his vigne stick, and to
one end of which he appended a small bundle, containing a change of
linen, &c., and I put on my shooting coat of many pockets, and
shouldered my gun. Thus equipped, we commenced our journey to the
Great Falls. The distance from Tonawanta to the village of the Falls,
now called Manchester, is about eleven miles. The way lies through a

forest, in which there are but a few scattered habitations. A great part of
the road runs close to the river Niagara; and the occasional glimpses of
this broad sheet of water, which are obtained through the rich foliage of
the forest, added to the refreshing breeze that approached us through
the openings, rendered our pedestrian excursion extremely delightful.
Towards evening we arrived at the village, and proceeded to
reconnoitre, in order to fix our position for the night. After having done
this satisfactorily, we then turned our attention to the all-important
operation of eating and drinking. While supping, an eccentric-looking
person passed out through the apartment in which we were. His odd
appearance excited our curiosity, and we inquired who this
mysterious-looking gentleman was. We were informed that he was an
Englishman, and that he had been lodging there for the last six months,
but that he concealed his real name. He slept in one corner of a large
barrack room, in which there were of course several other beds. On a
small table by his bed-side there were a few French and Latin books,
and some scraps of poetry touching on the tender passion. These, and a
German flute, which we observed standing against the window, gave us
some clue to his character. He was a tall, romantic-looking young man,
apparently about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years of age. His dress
was particularly shabby. This the landlord told us was from choice, not
from necessity, as he had two trunks full of clothes nearly new. The
reason he gave for dressing as he did, was his knowing, he said, that if
he dressed well, people would be talking to him, which he wished to
avoid; but, that by dressing as he did, he made sure that no one would
ever think of giving him any annoyance of that kind. I thought this idea
unique: and whether he be still at Niagara, or has taken up his abode at
the foot of the Rocky mountains, I pronounce him to be a Diogenes
without a tub. He has read at least one page in the natural history of
civilized man.
We visited the Falls, at the American side by moonlight. There was
then an air of grandeur and sublimity in the scene which I shall long
remember. Yet at this side they are not seen to the greatest advantage.
Next morning I crossed the Niagara river, below the Falls, into Canada.
I did not ascend the bank to take the usual route to the Niagara hotel, at

which place there is a spiral staircase descending 120 feet towards the
foot of the Falls, but clambered along at the base of the cliffs until I
reached the point immediately below the stairs. I here rested, and
indeed required it much, for the