Wyandotte | Page 2

grandeur; a word
that is in nearly every case, misapplied. The scenery of that portion of
the American continent which has fallen to the share of the
Anglo-Saxon race, very seldom rises to a scale that merits this term;
when it does, it is more owing to the accessories, as in the case of the
interminable woods, than to the natural face of the country. To him
who is accustomed to the terrific sublimity of the Alps, the softened
and yet wild grandeur of the Italian lakes, or to the noble witchery of
the shores of the Mediterranean, this country is apt to seem tame, and
uninteresting as a whole; though it certainly has exceptions that carry
charms of this nature to the verge of loveliness.
Of the latter character is the face of most of that region which lies in the
angle formed by the junction of the Mohawk with the Hudson,
extending as far south, or even farther, than the line of Pennsylvania,
and west to the verge of that vast rolling plain which composes
Western New York. This is a region of more than ten thousand square
miles of surface, embracing to-day, ten counties at least, and supporting
a rural population of near half a million of souls, excluding the river
towns.
All who have seen this district of country, and who are familiar with
the elements of charming, rather than grand scenery it possesses, are
agreed in extolling its capabilities, and, in some instances, its realities.
The want of high finish is common to everything of this sort in
America; and, perhaps we may add, that the absence of picturesqueness
as connected with the works of man, is a general defect; still, this

particular region, and all others resembling it-- for they abound on the
wide surface of the twenty-six states--has beauties of its own, that it
would be difficult to meet with in any of the older portions of the earth.
They who have done us the honour to read our previous works, will at
once understand that the district to which we allude, is that of which we
have taken more than one occasion to write; and we return to it now,
less with a desire to celebrate its charms, than to exhibit them in a
somewhat novel, and yet perfectly historical aspect. Our own earlier
labours will have told the reader, that all of this extended district of
country, with the exception of belts of settlements along the two great
rivers named, was a wilderness, anterior to the American revolution.
There was a minor class of exceptions to this general rule, however, to
which it will be proper to advert, lest, by conceiving us too literally, the
reader may think he can convict us of a contradiction. In order to be
fully understood, the explanations shall be given at a little length.
While it is true, then, that the mountainous region, which now contains
the counties of Schoharie, Otsego, Chenango, Broome, Delaware, &c.,
was a wilderness in 1775, the colonial governors had begun to make
grants of its lands, some twenty years earlier. The patent of the estate
on which we are writing lies before us; and it bears the date of 1769,
with an Indian grant annexed, that is a year or two older. This may be
taken as a mean date for the portion of country alluded to; some of the
deeds being older, and others still more recent. These grants of land
were originally made, subject to quit-rents to the crown; and usually on
the payment of heavy fees to the colonial officers, after going through
the somewhat supererogatory duty of "extinguishing the Indian title,"
as it was called. The latter were pretty effectually "extinguished" in that
day, as well as in our own; and it would be a matter of curious research
to ascertain the precise nature of the purchase-money given to the
aborigines. In the case of the patent before us, the Indian right was
"extinguished" by means of a few rifles, blankets, kettles, and beads;
though the grant covers a nominal hundred thousand, and a real
hundred and ten or twenty thousand acres of land.
The abuse of the grants, as land became more valuable, induced a law,

restricting the number of acres patented to any one person, at any one
time, to a thousand. Our monarchical predecessors had the same
facilities, and it may be added, the same propensities, to rendering a
law a dead letter, as belongs to our republican selves. The patent on our
table, being for a nominal hundred thousand acres, contains the names
of one hundred different grantees, while three several parchment
documents at its side, each signed by thirty-three of these very persons,
vest the legal estate in the first named, for whose