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Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 1, Chapter 4: College Life.—September, 1826, to September, 1830.—age, 15-19. (search)
s Headquarters, the room where Frazier died, and the place where he was reputed to have been buried. Thence, in the heat of the day, he walked to the Springs, where, joining Babcock, he took lodgings at Montgomery Hall, instead of Congress Hall, which was then chief among the hotels. The next morning (28th), he subscribed for a day at the Reading Room. Leaving Saratoga on the 29th, at four in the morning, they walked to Ballston, where Babcock took the stage for Schenectady, on his way to Utica. Sumner, now left alone, still persevered, arriving at the Erie Canal, about two o'clock, just at the famous aqueduct over the Mohawk; thence walking on the tow-path, passing Cohoes Falls, numerous locks, and the junction of the Erie and Champlain Canals, and reaching Troy about six P. M., and (still following the canal) Albany about sundown, —making thirty-seven miles on foot during the day. Lodging for the night at the Eagle Tavern, the next morning (30th) he took a view quite early of th
Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 1, Chapter 8: early professional life.—September, 1834, to December, 1837.—Age, 23-26. (search)
him our lions. We left Ballston for Saratoga last Monday; were whirled over the beautiful railway from Schenectady to Utica, a distance of eighty miles, in about four hours; were crowded in a foul tavern at Utica; passed a most exciting, brilliUtica; passed a most exciting, brilliant day at Trenton Falls, seventeen miles from Utica,—a natural curiosity, unsurpassed I believe by any in the country, where rocks and water and overhanging trees present all their strangest combinations (I wish you could see them), and fill the miUtica,—a natural curiosity, unsurpassed I believe by any in the country, where rocks and water and overhanging trees present all their strangest combinations (I wish you could see them), and fill the mind with the most beautiful ideas. My blood flowed quick, and my mind seemed exhilarated in no common degree, when I first descended from the lofty banks into the deep bosom of the rocks through which the stream tumbles along for several miles, descending from stratum to stratum. These falls alone are worth a journey. From Utica I took a canal-boat, in the evening, and the next forenoon found myself at Syracuse, a village in the interior of New York,—a distance of sixty-five miles. From Syra<