The following is excerpted from a travel journal of Nathaniel Booth, 19th-century Rondout resident & diarist. The drawing is by Nathaniel Booth.
“A Trip to Canada West and Niagara, In the Summer of Eighteen Hundred and Sixty Five” by Nathaniel Booth
Original journal held by the Special Collections Research Center, Syracuse University Libraries
A very old friend of mine – a merchant doing business in New York City – having near relatives residing in the western part of Canada whom he almost annually visits – extended an invitation to my wife and self to join him and his daughter in a pleasure excursion this summer, which we joyfully accepted –
According to arrangement we met our friends on a lovely July morning (the 11th) on the Hudson River cars at Rhinebeck and as seats had been secured for us, our party was as compact, and comfortable as was possible –
A journey of a few hundred miles by rail admits of very little enjoyment in itself, beautiful scenery cannot be appreciated through clouds of dust and smoke while passing at a rate of forty miles an hour – its monotony was broken however by the gentlemen going occasionally to smoke a cigar – talk on politics or the like, which afforded the ladies an opportunity to gossip, criticize other ladies bonnets and dresses, and otherwise amuse themselves.
I had left home in an angry humour – our currency was reported to be in very bad order on the other side of the line (viz 54′, 40″) – Gold was worth about 160, and I had made arrangements (50 I supposed) for the exchange of a sufficient quantity of “green backs” to meet our expenses, when at the last moment – in fact just as our ferry boat was ringing her last bell the president of the _______ bank disapointed me most uncourteously, so we had to leave home depending on our National bank bills, and “shinplasters” only –
This ill natured act had the effect of closing our account with the bank, which had been of over ten years duration.
But my anger and disapointment proved to be unnecessary, as we found no difficulty whatever in using them along the route, or any where, by paying the customary discount.
We reached Rochester about 10 pm; too late to obtain more than a moonlight walk through this handsome, enterprising city; and early on Thursday July 12 we all left our rooms to visit Genesee Falls, celebrated for their beauty, their perpendicular descent of about two hundred feet, and also for being the scene of “Sam Patch’s Last Leap.”
Sam Patch was a noted swimmer and diver, he had won celebrity by jumping from the yard arms of vessels in New York and other harbors, three from Passaic Falls, Paterson N.J. and finaly has obtained, and conferred immortality here by jumping from the central projecting rock – into eternity.
After an early breakfast, and a very hearty one (much to our regret afterwards) we left the city proper for the coast and prepared for our sail accross Lake Ontario. The morning was cool, somewhat cloudy, but pleasant, except the wind which forewarned us of a rough passage across its course; Many of our party expressed a wish to wait until the next day, and pass the time in the pleasant city of Rochester – but our imperative leader would admit of no delay, so in complyance with his wishes we embarked about 8.30 am on board the steamer, the wind now blowing “great guns” directly down the lake.
Our steamer, a good staunch iron built boat, rejoiced in the clasical name, “Corinthian” an order of architecture however, more to be admired on land than water, more particularly on the waters of Lake Ontario, where Tuscan-Doric-Ionic, as well as Corinthian, are very apt to become “Composite” during a gale lengthwise of this wonderful inland sea.
This sea was rough when we started from the southern shores – yet not unpleasantly so for awhile – but on obtaining a distance of some ten miles from land – the departed shore no long visable except the rapidly receding promontory we had left – when the one hundred and twenty miles long, and sixty miles wide of this beautiful lake gave northerly east, by west, by east, gales their full play – when its blue waters began to jump, and climb, to play “leap frog” and then to sink, fall, as if the bottom of the pond had fallen out, then again for us to see, and hear, and feel them foaming upwards as if to invade the heavens, dashing their spray over the hurricane decks of our boat – then the sensation was not so pleasant.
We were laboring in the “trough of the sea” – that is, we were crossing the line of the storm when the waves struck us sideways, rocking our boat as an exasperated nurse would rock the cradle of a wide-awake baby, while knowing the her favourite cousin was waiting not her pleasure – but her leasure –
“Rock’d in the Cradle of the Deep” is a very pretty sentiment – in print – or from the pretty lips of a sweet singer – but is altogether different on Lake Ontario in a gale you know, or you would know if you happened to be a passenger on board this Corinthian on this day –
“Our party” had taken possession of the after hurricane deck, and were in fact the sole occupants – We laughed at the tall rolling waves; watching their coming, and their going – the foam flying over our heads as we dashed among them without fear, and even cheered, when some more ambitious swells than usual, tried their strength against that of our gallant craft and triumphantly placed his “white cap” upon the pinacle of our pilot house.
And we enjoyed all this, considering it got up for our especial amusement – for awhile, although we were obliged to cling to the stancions of the decks for support – we dared the dashing billows to dance with us – and they accepted the invitation – but oh! what a “change came o’er the spirit of our dream” – It was when the laugh was loudest – when the merryment greatest that we observed a direful change pass over the countenance of our friend from New York – the broad smile vanished – a look of ineffable disgust, horror and dismay succeeded and he left us – he “stood not upon the order of his going, but went at once” and we saw him no more that day.
Scarsely had the senior of our happy party disappeared when his daughter, the youngest of our circle began to look sad, a spasm passed over her fair face and she began to gasp a desire to go home – “Oh! Oh! Please to take me ashore – sho – shor – Oh!!” she entreated and then resigned herself to her fate –
The madam however was self relient and contented, she appeared to rise superior to the ills of ordinary life, and defy them – Physiologists have declared that the phenomena of fainting, hysteria, sea-sickness, and the like are in a great measure subservient to the will and determination of the person afflicted.
Perhaps they are right, but this rule does not apply to a cross-cut sea on the lake Ontario – the effect upon ordinary mortals is not alone a sea – but a sea-saw – sickness just as irresistible as the winds and waves which produce it,
So the madam thought she would go to the saloon just to see how our young friend was getting along – that’s all – she did not return to the after deck during that trip, but with my assistance the two ladies tumbled into the lower berths of adjoining state rooms, where leaving them to comfort each other I returned to the deck to enjoy myself –
How I succeeded is not for me to tell; I was for a few hours, in that peculiar state of mind when at first death in all its terrors presented itself, and afterwards would have been welcomed as a relief from the dreadful prostration experienced in sea sickness,
But in a short time the reaction took place, the miserable nausia had passed, and I was not only able to give aid to my companions in misfortune, but to amuse and appreciate the sublime grandeur of a storm at sea.
TO BE CONTINUED…
The Squaredealer 