An Englishman's travels in America : $b his observations of life and manners in the free and slave statesBenwell, John
History
An Englishman's travels in America : $b his observations of life and manners in the free and slave states
Benwell, John
Slavery -- United States; United States -- Description and travel; United States -- Social life and customs -- 1783-1865
My powers of description will fall short of conveying to the mind of
the reader the awful grandeur of this cataract, so often commented upon
by travellers. The first impression felt by me was, that the whole
substratum on which I stood, which seemed to tremble, was about to be
swept away by the vast inundation. It was not the height of the falls,
but the immense body of water, which comprehends, with constant
accumulations from the tributaries on the way, the overflowings of Lakes
Erie, Superior, Michigan, and Huron. The astonishing effect of such a
body of water, dashed abruptly over a precipice of 150 perpendicular
feet, may be conceived; such is the momentum of this immense volume of
fluid, that, when it strikes the rocky bed at the base of the cataract,
it rebounds in a thick cloud of vapour--and when the sun's rays
intercept it, as was the case when I arrived there, a beautiful rainbow
of vivid colours encircles the area of the chasm, and, together with the
natural curiosities and situation of the entire scene, presents to the
amazed beholder, the effect of a highly-executed picture in a frame of
sun-light, although far surpassing the productions of human skill, which
may well be said, in comparison, to sink into utter insignificance.
A large company of visitors were assembled at the time of my arrival,
probably from all parts of the world--so that I found it impossible to
get a bed, unless I penetrated into the interior with a view to obtain
accommodation at some farm-house, or crossed to the Canada side; but,
feeling too tired, after the day's excitement, to pursue either such
course, I took an evening train and returned to Buffalo the same day,
where I arrived at 9 P.M.
About three miles from Buffalo is an Indian village, called Tonawanda. I
frequently saw parties of the inhabitants, who resort to the city to
dispose of their wares and produce. Some of the warriors were fine
athletic fellows, of great stature, the lowest I saw being over six feet
in height. They were clothed in tanned buck-skin, curiously fringed and
ornamented with porcupine-quills richly dyed; their squaws (wives) being
enveloped in fine Canadian blue broad cloth, their favourite costume;
the crimson or other gaudy-coloured selvedge forming a conspicuous
ornament.
Like all the aborigines of America, they cling with tenacity to primeval
habits and customs, resisting every attempt made by the white
population, to make or persuade them to conform to civilized life. The
ill-usage they have been subjected to by the Americans, may, however,
account for this in a great measure. They were described to me by one of
the residents as a dissipated set of fellows, who squandered all they
got in "fire-water," as they term ardent spirits, and when inebriated
are so quarrelsome that it is dangerous in the highest degree to
irritate them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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