From: GLEASONS PICTORIAL DRAWING-ROOM COMPANION

1853

SCENES IN NEW YORK.

In previous articles, with the above title, we have given pen and-pencil sketches of Portage, notable for mechanical and natural wonders; Owego, interesting for poetic associations; and Auburn, well known for public institutions. It remains to offer our readers a taste of the elysian beauty of the lake region of central New York -a beauty that is precious "for its own sweet sake," and not indebted for its charm to any improvements, institutions, or associations. It is not destitute of these, but is sufficiently interesting for its purely picturesque attractions. Through-out the world there can be no district of country more winning in the softness of shore, water and woodland, and more enchanting in the wildness of ravine and cascade. To one who has passed his childhood and youth in sight of one of these small inland seas, who has watched its varying face in all aspects of season and sky, has wandered with the wandering curves of its shore, floated on its breast, and bathed in its loving waters, - a lake like Cayuga, comes to be regarded with a lasting, romantic and almost brotherly or filial affection. The great stream of travel rushes over the foot of Cayuga Lake, on the long cause-way (once a low bridge) of the Albany and Buffalo Railroad; and the tourist's impressions of this sheet of water are generally, perhaps, not of the most favorable sort. He sees an humble eating-saloon, a few unsightly canal-boats, and a not very modern steamboat; he gazes at the famous turnpike bridge, a mile in length, and now tottering with age; he catches, possibly, a distant glimpse up the lake where the gentle hills, wooded capes and silver surface fade into the sky; and no more - the roaring train hurries him away through field and forest to Auburn or to Geneva. But let him take passage on the steamboat, and he will find a new world of loveliness opening upon him at every turn of the splashing wheels. The fresh lake-air will inspire him with exhilarating oblivion of the dust, stifling atmosphere, and stunning noise of the cars. Calmly and steadily he moves over the liquid mirror that reflects the opal clouds and blue heavens, and breaks into brilliants before the unfaltering prow that draws after it a widening series of waves, like a spangled fan, or folds of shining silk - spreading out in long, smooth undulations, until they mingle with the foam from the wheels, and the bubbles that boil, and seethe, and dance in the wake. Many are the hues of ripple and billow as they take a momentary tinge from sky, cloud, boat and shore, or reveal their own tinted transparency. The wild water-birds ride in the pathway of the steamer until it glides too near, when they suddenly flutter along in a bright track of spray, and, gaining their wings, skim away in the air. The gulls, trained to follow the boat and pick up the broken meats thrown to them, hover overhead in a greedy flock; they pause on balanced pinions, long and white, or slowly flap the.n in a yet rapid flight, or stoop with a quick plunge to the surface, where they beat the water in struggling for some huge morsel, the victor laboriously bearing it upward and off. On the right hand and the left, the shores slant to the water's edge; they are attired in the bridal white of winter, the Quaker brown of early spring, the parrot green of May, the Napoleonic green and buff uniform of harvest, or the royal gold and purple of autumn. Six miles of such fairy-land boating, bring you to Springport, so named from salt-springs near the lake, too weak for "boiling down," but plenteous enough to propel certain large mills, built of the limestone hereabouts obtained in great quantities. A very thriving village it is, with a large Quaker seminary, and several fine residences - one of them erected by a gentleman from New Bedford, Mass., at a cost of $25,000. A quarter of a mile in front of the village, is the only island of the lake - a small circular plot of rocks and trees - the one jewel of Cayuga, "Fair as a star when only one is shining in the sky." - Four miles further up the lake, is the so-called "model-farm of the State," owned by a gentleman who is brother-in law of N.P. Willis, nephew-in-law of Washington Irving, and adopted son of the New-Yorker whose name is associated with expeditions in search of Sir John Franklin. The house is covered with rose-vines and the white fenced farm slopes gracefully down to a grove that overhangs the water. The hamlet close by is Levanna, and two miles more with precipitous; cliffs, crowned with cedars, intervenes before the boat touches the dock - the bent arm, gallantly offered - of Aurora village. This village is the belle of Cayuga Lake, on a heautiful bay on which it lies, looking over four miles to the opposite shore, where the sun goes down, often doubling his setting splendors in the glassy waters. The paved streets, handsome houses, and wavekissd gardens have a New England look - so well-to-do, tidy and tasteful in everything. The place was very early settled, and now boasts much wealth and refinement, as several lordly colonnades and ornate cottages bear witness. Indeed, it is becoming a somewhat fashionable spot for urban opulence to retire to, or summer at. Here is "Wave Bank " - the home of the courteous and accomplished "Sentinel" correspondent of the N.Y. Courier, and, near his sweet home, is the expensive villa of the well-known pioneer of our express companies. Aurora has a sectional reputation for regattas, the preparations for one of which are given in our engraving, - also for floral and horticultural fairs, under the superintendence of one of the residents who enjoys the presidentship of the N.Y. State Medical Society. More than one hundred varieties of roses were contributed by one -lady, on an occasion of this kind when we were present. As for drives and shore views, one of the most charming forms the fore-ground of our distant and partial view of the village, herewith presented. For the rest, we may borrow the words of one who sojourned in this village of the day-dawning goddess:

"And there are waterfalls and singing streams

Deep bidden in the hills, and sycamores

Along the pebbled beach, and sunset gleams

Far mirrored from the purple western shores;

And white-winged boats, and many a moonlight sail,

Regattas, rides, and festivals of Flora-

A thousand charms tkat could adorn a tale,

If laid among thy quiet scenes, Aurora."

Cayuga Lake is forty miles long, and from two to four miles wide. Alfred Street, in his exciting "metrical romance" of "Frontenac," has devoted several pages to the beauty of its scenery. We have now passed in fancy along twelve miles of the eastern shore. The remaining distance to the head of the lake, at Ithaca, is varied by rocky cliffs, fine farms, busy landings, and elm-shaded capes that terminate in slender sand-bars which curve one way or the other, elastic as an elephant's trunk - according as the wind has been blowing. No more strange and delightful sight is there, it may be mentioned, than the shores during or after a heavy rain; from all the ribbed hills and tall bttlements of rocks, countless snowy waterfalls start in being - some of them of great height or force. The grand cataract of this region, ceaseless except in mid-summer, is Taghcanic Falls, ten miles from Ithaca, and hidden a mile away from the lake. The statistics of it are thus accurately and jocularly recorded by a rhymer who evidently had not seen the stream in high water:

"It lies about ((like to be particular)

One mile,from Lake Cayugas western shore;

On either side the rocks rise perpendicular

Three hundred and thirty feet and something more,

Aud all the stream diffused in drops orbicular,

Descends in wreaths and falling mists that pour

Two hundred feet and ten, or nearly so,

Before they form again the stream below."

Ithaca is a place of six thousand inhabitants, noticeable for its level, rectangular streets, luxuriant shade-trees, and the lofty hills that surround it on all sides but the north, where the lake lies. In a zigzag way, switching back and forth, the Cayuga and Susquehanna Railroad manages to ascend the south hill, and the ascent affords many fine views of the valley and lake. The glory of Ithaca is the waterfalls. Five deep ravines pierce the hills, every one with a succession of magnificent cascades. The one most visited is rendered in our picture of the Olympic Falls. These are one hundred and twenty-seven feet high, with a vast amphitheatre below to do the echoing in. Only half the height and width of the Falls can be seen in the engraving. The Tunnel, in the accompanying sketch, was built to supply water-power, and is two hundred feet long, from twelve to twenty in diameter, and cost two thousand dollars. The water, on the right hand of the sketch, is above the cataract, the straight line being the brink. Facing around from this point of view, the spectator sees a second noble cascade, with a reflection of it in the pond that supplies the tunnel. The name "Olympic" - at worst a better one than the common name of "Fall Creek" - was given by the late Solomon Southwick, Esq., of Albany - a venerable leader in lectures and newspapers in New York State. He wrote of this scenery in these words:

"This prospect reminded me in some degree, of the Kaaterskill Fall, on the Catskill Mountain, only this terminates in a view of the lake waters, and the smiling scenery of the opposite side of the vale. The Kaaterskill Fall is remarkable for its height - its amphitheatrical form - and its awful sublimity and grandeur; and yet I hardly know to which to give the preference, as interesting portions of natural scenery."

The scenery of Ithaca is little known to the travelling public; but Mr. Southwick and Mrs. Ellet have done something to set forth it's attractions; and we trust these sketches will aid in directing the seekers of beauty, and induce them at appropriate seasons of the year to resort to this neighbcrhood. To the artist, this vicinity possesses more than usual interest, every, look-out forming a scene for his pencil, and every locality abounding in picturesque blendings of wood and water. Steamers and the railroads (sad dampers upon romance!) are bringing thither the weary and business-worn citizens of less picturesque localities, and since access has become so easy by the means of these modern appliances, the places which we have illustrated are being daily rendered more and more familiar to the public generally.