Extract No. 6

11th—I was awakened about midnight by the landlord, and informed that the great Western Mail, which was to carry me to Buffalo, was ready, on which I rose, paid my fare—$3—and was crowded as usual, with eight others, into a comfortable stage. I had not much opportunity of seeing the country, but was informed it was as highly improved as what I had seen yesterday. At Avon Post Office we crossed the Genessee, by a substantial covered bridge, and entered upon the Indian reservation, extending three miles, being the first land since leaving Weedsborough, distant 75 miles, which was not improved and thickly inhabited. It is held by a tribe of Senecas, and with the exception of partial clearings, is almost in a state of nature. Le Roy, on our route, is a very sweet place, nearly new. Batavia is the capital of Genessee county, and is a fine town, having much taste about it. After leaving this town, we passed the Tonewanta Creek, and passed Pembroke, at the distance of fourteen miles. This is not much of a place. At 8 miles further, we passed Clarence, pretty much of the same stamp. The country since leaving Batavia to this place, is low meadow land, in the possession of the Pioneers of the land, and looks more like what is generally supposed in my county, to be the appearance of this clime generally, than any I have seen; but there is no mistake about the soil's being good—tho' I should rather suppose it to be unhealthy, as the Natives are very dirty and beastly. After leaving Clarence at the distance of 8 miles, Williamstown makes its appearance. Here is a good water power, on a stream that I did not ascertain the name of, running into the Tonewanta. After leaving this place, the country assumes a fine, rich, pleasant aspect, devoid of trees or stumps, and ornamented with fine, well cultivated farms, with rich waving fields of grain, and elegant orchards in full bloom; but there must be, judging from the number of orchards, no scarcity of fruit in this country. Further, 6 miles—which is short of Buffalo 4 miles—we ascended a considerable eminence, and from the summit, I, for the first time in my life, had an extensive view of king George's dominions in the Western World. Erie was distinctly seen on the left, and Niagara on the right, and the town of Buffalo full in view before us. From this point the road ascends by a beautiful slope in a straight line till we arrived at the town of Buffalo, which we effected about 5 o'clock P. M. I cannot say that I admire the country, speaking generally, for the last forty miles after leaving Batavia—nor do I think it is sufficiently watered, and, by the by, that which I tasted, I never wish to taste more, as it set my bowels in an uproar prodigiously, to my great inconvenience and pain. And now for Buffalo, the Frontier town entirely destroyed during the late war. It is fully as large as Burlington, and finished in the finest style. It has (so it is said,) the finest Court House and house of entertainment in the state—and from viewing them, I have no reason to doubt the saying. The said Inn is the one at which I put up; and the Hall and apartments are really finished and furnished superbly. Yet, like most such houses, the eating is nothing to boast of—and the charges are certainly fine. This place supports six extensive Hotels and a Theatre. There are three Churches—one of which is an ornament to this, and would be to any place. Its situation is certainly pleasant, being at the head of the Great Lake; but nothing to compare with Geneva. Here the Grand Canal terminates by another spacious Basin, filled with boats.

I took a walk, as it was a pleasant evening, the wind blowing fresh up the lake—down to the Buck. But instead of the smooth and beautiful expanse of the Cayuga, Seneca, and Canandaigua, was heard the roar of the Atlantic. The surf dashed against the shore with violence, and the breakers advanced and receded in rapid succession—and it was to me almost irreconcilable that it was nothing but Lake Erie. I counted something like 30 vessels of considerable size at the wharves, for navigating this fresh water sea. And to make the matter short, Buffalo is a brisk and pleasant place. And now, whether I am credited or not, I state it as a fact, independent and absolute—that the distance from Weedsport to Batavia is 100 miles—that it is as thickly settled on each side of the road as far as can be seen, as is the road from New York to Philadelphia, being about the same distance—that the towns and villages are as much finer and neater, as the land is better—and that there are 10 trees and stumps along the latter, where there is one along the former,—and as to scenery, the odds are so much in favor of the former, that I cannot, nor will not, attempt to compare them.