CHAPTER V.—CATARACTS AND CASCADES.
THE Falls of Niagara have been very frequently and minutely described, though it must be acknowledged, as has been well said by the celebrated Audubon, that all the pictures you may see, all the descriptions you may read of these mighty falls, can only produce in your mind the faint glimmer of a glow-worm compared with the overpowering glory of the meridian sun. ‘What!’ said he, ‘have I come here to mimic nature in her grandest enterprise, and add my caricature of one of the wonders of the world to those which I here see? No.—I give up the vain attempt. I will look on these mighty cataracts, and imprint them where they alone can be represented—on my mind!’ The following very full and accurate description by Mr. Schoolcraft, is the best with which we are acquainted.
‘On the first of May, I visited the celebrated Falls of Niagara.14 Keeping the American shore, the road lies over an alluvial country, elevated from ten to twenty feet above the water of the river, without a hill or a ledge of rocks, and with scarce an undulation of surface, to indicate the existence, or prepare the eye for the stupendous prospect which bursts, somewhat unexpectedly, into view. The day was clear and warm, with a light breeze blowing down the river. We stopped frequently on our approach to listen for the sound of the Fall, but at the distance of fifteen, ten, eight, and even five miles, could not distinguish any, even by laying the ear to the ground. It was not until within three miles of the precipice, where the road runs close to the edge of the river, and brings the rapids in full view, that we could distinctly hear the sound, which then, owing to a change in the wind, fell so heavily upon the ear, that in proceeding a short distance, it was difficult to maintain a conversation as we rode along. On reaching the Falls, nothing struck me with more surprise, than that the Baron La Hontan, who visited it in August, 1688, should have fallen into so egregious a mistake, as to the height of the perpendicular pitch, which he represents at seven or eight hundred feet. Nor does the narrator of the discoveries of the unfortunate La Salle, Monsieur Tonti, approach much nearer the truth, when he states it at six hundred feet. Charlevoix, whose work is characterized by more accuracy, learning, and research, than those who had preceded him, and who saw the Falls in 1721, makes, on the contrary, an estimate which is surprising for the degree of accuracy he has attained. “For my own part,” he says, “after examining it on all sides, where it could be viewed to the greatest advantage, I am inclined to think we cannot allow it less than a hundred and forty or fifty feet.” The latter, (one hundred and fifty,) is precisely what the Fall on the Canadian side is now estimated at. There is a rapid of two miles in extent above, and another of seven miles, extending to Lewiston, below the Falls. The breadth across, at the brink of the Fall, which is serrated and irregular, is estimated at four thousand two hundred and thirty feet, or a little more than three fourths of a mile. The Fall on the American shore is one hundred and sixty-four feet, being the highest known perpendicular pitch of so great a volume of water. The fall of the rapid above, commencing at Chippewa, is estimated at ninety feet, and the entire fall of Niagara river from Lake Erie to Lake Ontario, a distance of thirty-five miles, at three hundred feet. Goat Island, which divides the water into two unequal sheets, has recently been called Iris, (in allusion to the perpetual rainbows by which it is characterized) by the commissioners for settling the boundaries of the United States, acting under the treaty of Ghent.
‘In approaching this cataract from Lewiston, the elevated and rocky description of country it is necessary to cross, together with the increased distance at which the roar is heard in that direction, must serve to prepare the mind for encountering a scene which there is nothing to indicate on approaching from Buffalo; and this impression unquestionably continues to exercise an effect upon the beholder, after his arrival at the Falls. The first European visiters beheld it under this influence. Following the path of the Couriers de Bois, they proceeded from Montreal up the St. Lawrence, to Fort Caderacqui, and around the shores of Lake Ontario, to the alluvial tract which stretches from the mouth of Niagara river, to the site of Lewiston. Here the Ridge, emphatically so called, commences, and the number of elevations which it is necessary to ascend in crossing it, may, without a proper consideration of the intermediate descents, have led those who formerly approached that way into error, such as La Hontan and Tonti fell into. They must have been deprived also of the advantages of the view from the gulf at the foot of the Falls, for we are not prepared to admit the possibility of a descent without artificial stairs, or other analogous laborious and dangerous works, such, as at that remote period, must have been looked upon as a stupendous undertaking; and could not, indeed, have been accomplished, surrounded as the French then were, by their enemies, the jealous and ever watchful Iroquois. The descent at the present period, with every advantage arising from the labors of mechanical ingenuity, cannot be performed without feeling some degree of personal solicitude.
‘It is in this chasm that the sound of the water falls heaviest upon the ear, and that the mind becomes fully impressed with the appalling majesty of the Fall. Other views from the banks on both sides of the river, and from the Island of Iris in its centre, are more beautiful and picturesque; but it is here that the tremulous motion of the earth, the clouds of irridescent spray, the broken column of falling water, the stunning sound, the lofty banks of the river, and the wide spreading ruin of rocks, imprint a character of wonder and terror upon the scene, which no other point of view is capable of producing. The spectator, who, on alighting at Niagara,