SOURCE: LADIES REPOSITORY October 1864

Page 601

THE LAKE DISTRICT IN CENTRAL NEW YORK

TEE LAKE DISTRICT IN CENTRAL NEW YORK.

By Rev. R. B. WELCH.

CAYUGA LAKE AND TAGHKANIC FALLS.

THE Lake District in Central New York

deserves to be better known by American

tourists and scholars, and especially by the

citizens of the Empire State. Two great rail-

ways, the Central on the north, and the Erie

on the south, skirt its whole extent; while

a double line of steamers ply daily upon the

waters of Cayuga, Seneca, and Canandaigua

Lakes, to convey passengers to and fro from

these great thoroughfares, and at the same

time to regale them with purest air and en-

chanting, scenery on the way, or bear them to

localities where they would gladly linger amid

inviting villas, beautiful rural retreats, charm-

ing ravines, and waterfalls wild and grand.

This entire lake region is one of the most at-

tractive in the world. In fertility it equals

the valley of the Nile; in beauty, the lake dis-

trict of Northern Italy; in agricultural capa-

bility and advancement, the better portions of

England; and in legendary interest, the High-

lands of Scotland.

After spending a few days at Trenton Falls

whose charm grows upon us with each re-

newed visit, we pushed forward to Cayuga, the

largest of the group of five sister lakes, reserv-

ing Skaneateles and Owasco for our return.

It is desirable to tarry awhile, if the tourist

can, at Canoga, or Aurora, or Cayuga, and ac-

quaint himself with the surrounding country,

and catch a sail at eventide, or a row by moon-

light, or sunrise on the waters of the placid

lake.

Eighty-five years ago there was not a single

white residence in Cayuga county; now it is

one of the most populous and thriving coun-

ties in the State. Aurora is noted as the

place of the first house built in the county.

Near the spot is New Park, the residence of

Mr. Wells, of the Express Company. It ranks

among the first class of residences along the

Hudson, and, from a good point of observation

below the town, reminds one of country seats

in England.

The visitor will be, perhaps, no less at-

tracted by the taste and elegance displayed by

the Morgans, and he will not willingly fail to

visit the celebrated garden of Dr. Thompson,

and gather a sprig from a genuine cedar of

Lebanon, and the Paulonia of India, which

flourish as luxuriantly on the shores of Cayuga

as in their native climes.

An excursion of three miles down the lake to

Levanna, will bring him to Angleside, the resi-

dence of Mr. Grinnell. Here the agriculturist

will be delighted with one of the best farms in

the county, or the State; and the lover of na-

ture with a charming view of the lake and the

shore ten miles in either direction. Here mer-

chant-princes are wont to congregate for rest

from the strife and toil of metropolitan life,

and hither Washington Irving did aforetime

resort to enjoy leisure and letters, the gentle

loveliness of nature embellished with the skill-

ful decorations of cultivated taste.

Across the lake is Canoga, a quiet village,

noted for its historic associations. Its beauti-

ful Indian name signifies sweet water,” and

was applied by the dusky men of the forest to

a famous spring a mile from the lake, near

which Red Jacket, the celebrated chief, was

born, in 1750. His Indian name, like all In-

dian names, was significant—” Sa-go-ye-wat-

“"He keeps them awake;"” and long did

his sleepless vigilance keep alive the savage

watch-fires, and stimulate to fury the revenge-

ful spirit of his tribe. The oak-tree, which

tradition marks as the place of his birth, is

a leafless, dead trunk; but the spring is yet

living, and sparkles with bubbles of nitrogen

gas which leap forth from the bottom at the

slightest disturbance from above. It is dis-

tinguished as one of only a few springs of this

kind in the world. Its waters are clear and

sweet as when the Indians first named it

Canoga.

And now at sunset, if the tourist seat him-

self in a row-boat, a short pull at the oars will

bring him in full view of the great Central

Railroad, as it sweeps across the foot of the

lake in a semicircle of more than a mile, trav-

ersed at this hour by puffing engines and gi-

gantic trains from the East and the West,

rushing forward with their smoky banners as

if for deadly conflict; while from the South, on

the bosom of the lake, are seen the stars and

stripes floating from the deck of an approach-

ing steamer. Here and there on the clear wa-

ters, as they reflect the blue heavens and the

fleecy clouds, appear the snowy sails of the

lake-boats, moving slowly now, but expecting

the breeze which is sure to spring up from the

south at midnight; while just in front, between

the advancing steamer and the hurrying train,

rises up a grand old skeleton, one mile and

a quarter in length, reaching from shore to

shore the ghost of the Cayuga bridge that

died during the monetary crisis of 1857, after

a prosperous and honorable life from September

5, 1808. It was a twin child of the State with

the Erie Canal, begotten by the practical

genius of Dewitt Clinton, eighteen months to

its birth, at an expense of $150,000. But it

repaid its cost a score of times, and will be re-

membered by the East and the West as a com-

mon benefactor, and erelong the public voice

will demand that its waste places he restored.

An unreliable ferry is but a sorry substitute

for this substantial convenience. Personally I

have no reason to complain, as in the absence

of a bridge and the delay of the ferry, my

friends made a virtue of necessity, and, with

the sunrise, rowed me across the lake to meet

the early steamer or the train. I chose the

former, and in the early morning steamed up

the lake toward Ithaca, a name quite diverse

from Canoga, in association reviving the mem-

ory, not of a savage but a classic warrior, im-

mortalized by the first of epic bards as the

prudent Ulysses.”

This inland lake is by no means to he de-

spised. It is as large as the lakes of Italy, as

beautiful though not as grand as those of

Switzerland, and more enriched by legend than

those of the British Isles. A peculiarity in

which it surpasses all of these is the exuberant

forests and rich, cultivated farms that diversify

and adorn its shores on either side. As we

advance we review the places already men-

tioned.

And now our steamer, appropriately named

Aurora, nears Park Island, a brilliant eme-

rald on the bosom of the lake, and the single

jewel worn by the gentle Cayuga. This island

is a lovely spot, far enough from the shore

to furnish a pleasant row or charming sail;

supported by the rock, and defended by it

against the dash of the waters; bordered by

thrifty elms of twenty Summers, that wave

their welcome to the visitor; while the bright-

est verdure covers the little island, presenting

a fairy lawn which invites the gay to pleasure

and the weary to repose.

Park Island is, of course, a favorite resort

for the old and the young from all the region

adjacent. Small as it is, it appeared to me

larger than Meggenhorn, the single island that

graces Lucerne, the lake of the four Swiss Can-

tons, and more beautiful. Upon the little

island of Meggenhorn the friends of freedom

reared a monument to William Tell, the founder

of Swiss liberty; apd here on Park Island from

a lofty standard there waves the Kational flag,

the emblem of American liberty. Fitting is

the apostrophe addressed by the author of

“"Frontenac"” to the islet and the lake:

“"Sweet silvan lake ! one single gem

Is in thy liquid diadem;

No sister has this little isle

To give its beauty nile for smile;

With it to bear the blue-bird sing,

‘Wake, leaves and flowers I here comes the Spring!’

With it to weave for Summer’s tread

Mosses below and flowers o'erhead;

With it to flash to gorgeous skies

The opal pomp of Autumn dyes,

And when stern Winter’s tempests blow,

To shrink beneath his robes of snow."

As we advance the lake widens, till at one

point it is, at the lowest estimate, three and a

half miles, and, as the captain of the Aurora

averred, four miles from shore to shore. And

now it bends gracefully to the east, so as to

relieve the monotony and close the direct line

of view, only to open up a charming surprise

as the steamer rounds the promontory. Grad-

ually the lake contracts in width, the shores

grow bolder, and here and there a gorge breaks

down from the summit of the western ridge to

the water level, combining sublimity with

beauty.

But there is a feature of the lake scenery

yet in store for us surpassing any thing that

we have seen—ales’ too often unknown by the

tourist, and therefore passed by unnoticed—

which would itself repay the traveler for a

journey across the State, if there were nothing

else worth seeing along the entire way. I

refer to Taghkanic Falls, ten miles below the

head of the lake. The steamboat lauding is

unpretentious and by no means attractive;

but the number that land there is steadily in-

creasing, and will continue to hereafter as it

becomes better known, till the accommodttions

shall become the best on the lake.

A few rods from the shore, and quite out of

sight from the steamer, the tourist is suddenly

confronted by the mouth of a grand gorge,

three hundred feet deep, perhaps one-third as

broad, between perpendicular walls of sohd

rock, with a waterfall pouring down its rocky

bed. This gorge extends back for a mile, deep-

ening and widening into the heart of the

mountain with fantastic curves and overhang-

ing cliffs, and a frontlet of pines on either

brow. The adventurous pedestrian may thread

the entire gorge with, perhaps, the single risk

of wet feet as he passes from island to island

on the way. Before he reaches the second, or

grand fall, be will observe an almost perpen-

dicular ladder of more than two hundred steps,

ascending to the summit of the cliff. If he de-

cline to thread the entire length of the ravine,

he may make the circuit of the public road,

the side of which borders the brink of the

gorge, permitting him to trace its windings as

he proceeds, and look down into its dizzy

depths. Then he can descend from the road

by the perpendicular ladder to the bottom of

the ravine, on his way to the second fall.

The gorge swells upward and around him into

a magnificent amphitheater, echoing and re-

echoing with the noise of the distant rapid and

the falls. Suddenly there breaks upon his

view a cataract, making a single leap of two

hundred and fifty feet, from a pathway sixty

feet wide and a hundred feet deep, which it

has cut through the solid rock. Sometimes,

when the gorge is filled with water, it is a

raging cataract, shaking the firm hills with its

thunder. Now, when the stream is low, it

forms one of the most beautiful cascades that

any land can boast. It resembles the Dust

Falls of Staubbach, which is the pride of Swit-

zerland; though inferior in hight, for Staubbach

claims eight hundred or one thousand feet;

yet it is superior to it in some other respects;

its waters are nearer milky white; its hight is

not so great as to dash it completely to dew

dust in its fall; it has just water enough to

retain some consistency, and yet descent enough

to make it thin, and light, and soft as a pend-

ent vail of snowy gauze with which the air is

fondly sporting, and which occasional gusts

from below lift into successive graceful, snowy

folds, inwrought with colors of the rainbow,

which float awhile before the eye ere they

sink into the seething lakelet that circles

below.

No words, however, can convey a just idea

of the commingled beauty of cascade, precipice,

cliff, and gorge. The pencil has made the at-

tempt, but, in the sketches I have seen, has

sadly failed to do it justice.

Opposite the fall stands the Taghkanic House,

for the accommodation of visitors. From either

story of the house the fall is visible through

the leafy trees. The easy swing and rustic

seats are each arranged to command a peculiar

view. The perfume of the pine fills the air

with a healthy fragrauce, and its whispering

music floats upon the breeze. Unpretentious

but most satisfactory entertainment cheers the

visitor, and prepares him for an after-dinner

stroll to the third falls, or succession of charm-

ing cascades, eighty rods beyond, which should

by no means be neglected; for these alone are

sufficient to repay ones delay at Taghkanic.

As I proposed to make the tour of the lakes, I

had arranged only for a tarry between the

morning and evening steamers for Ithaca. My

only regret was, that I must bid adieu so

soon to the lovely scene. It was, however,

with the firm resolve that whenever I might

enjoy a sail over Cayuga Lake, I would not pass

Taghkanic by. Descending to the lake I

rested awhile on the grassy slope to watch the

approach of the steamer, just visible at the

distance of twenty miles. In due season we

were taken on board, beheld the headland—

boldest scenery of the lake—arrayed in the

glory of sunset; and as soft twilight descended

we landed at Ithaca.