Addendum: Seeking Hawthorne’s Niagara

When Hawthorne traveled north to Niagara Falls, he was on a journey of self-discovery as much as he was on a writer’s journey to see America and sketch its beauty. In June, 2016, I journeyed 740+ miles roundtrip to see Niagara Falls for one brief day. My journey was both similar to, and monumentally different from, Hawthorne’s.As many have said, the Horseshoe Falls of Canada—undoubtedly more splendid than the American Falls, which are stunning in themselves—are nearly indescribable. When Hawthorne went to Niagara in search of the sublime and the grand in America, he dramatically restrained himself from immediately viewing the falls, worried they would not meet the expectations set by numerous authors’ tour books he had read or that his experience would be tainted by that of others who had not yet seen the falls for themselves. He first listened to their roar. Then, when he allowed himself to see the falls, he spent days and nights trying to apprehend them for himself. His final view of the falls was from the famed Table Rock on the Canadian side. While Hawthorne struggled with tasteful tourism and criticized tourists who viewed the falls through others’ eyes (ah, he would have had a few problems with me thinking about him and his trip), or who consider manmade feats more admirable, he seemed to most want to just be with the falls—sitting alone, contemplating, and communing with them. By the end of his visit, Hawthorne was able to meditate deeply on the falls despite the presence of other people. He simply “got it,” as we might say.The Niagara Falls that both Hawthorne and I saw are majestic and amazing. What words really can describe them? I spent hours simply looking: snapping some photos (while Hawthorne could only sketch with words), sitting and staring, or closing my eyes to muse by its roar. For nearly two hours, I watched the late afternoon sun-bow shift with my position and perspective, coloring the scene through the mist.Nonetheless, the Niagara Falls that I viewed are vastly different from those Hawthorne experienced. For example, only in the eighteenth century had Table Rock, on which he and other nineteenth century tourists sat, emerged from the water itself—part of the erosive power natural to waterfalls. In 1818, 1828, and 1829, parts of Table Rock broke off in minor rock falls. Hawthorne sat upon their remnant. In 1850, nearly a third of Table Rock collapsed, thundering into the gorge (“Table Rock, Niagara Falls”). Today, after other rock falls and a dynamite blast in 1939, there remains only a bronze tablet marking the mid-point of Table Rock, pointing visitors to its remains—and Hawthorne’s seat—below (see Photo 1). Photo 1.The author at Table Rock.The falls themselves also changed. In the early nineteenth century, both the American and the Horseshoe Falls were much closer to Table Rock, which their water flow had shaped over tens of thousands of years. For example, according to “Online Niagara,” the Horseshoe Falls eroded approximately 3.8 feet annually from 1842 (the first year of official study) to 1905. The erosion changed to 2.3 feet annually until 1927, after which the diversion of water through hydroelectric power stations diminished the erosion to approximately 1 foot annually. (By contrast, the American Falls now are eroding at a mere 3–4 inches annually, although their erosion rate was once much higher.) Today, one must walk over one hundred yards further in approaching the threshold of the falls. When Hawthorne watched the falls from Table Rock, unencumbered by the railings and fences that marked my journey, he sat at the edge of the falls themselves. Did his feet kick stones to the mist below?Water treaties between America and Canada were instituted in 1909 and 1950 (“A River Diversion”). They continue to regulate boundaries and the sharing of water for power; sanitary and domestic means; water navigation; and, of course, to preserve the natural wonder of the falls. Hence, the waterfalls continue to thunder, but their intensity has been diminished—not that we would see or feel that diminishment, never having experienced them differently—as hydroelectric power companies on both the American and Canadian sides divert some of the water that used to rush over the falls. At nighttime, the flow over the Horseshoe Falls is cut by half. The daytime flow of approximately 600,000 gallons per second is left higher for tourists, yet it is still not equal to the brute power Hawthorne witnessed in 1832 (“Facts about Niagara Falls”). Indeed, the powerful water with which Hawthorne communed was likely more than twice that which I experienced in 2016.Today, people can view the combined Niagara Falls from the air by a touring helicopter or from the water by one of four boats—two from each side—that leave from their docks every quarter hour in a carefully orchestrated dance. On the American side, one can either take an elevator up to an observation tower to look over the falls, or take an elevator down to experience the “Cave of the Winds,” in the process becoming soaked with splashing water and experiencing some of the falls’ true power. On the Canadian side, although one can no longer climb down to the base behind the Horseshoe Falls, the “Journey Behind the Falls” uses an elevator set deep in the rock to deposit tourists to a different viewpoint at the base of the falls. Thus, by air, river, elevator, and stairs, the falls are accessible in ways Hawthorne could not have dreamed. He had never seen an airplane, let alone a helicopter. Hawthorne cautiously climbed up and down rocks to his views. I imagined him using the curled maple staff with carved fish and snake images, the craft of a Tuscarora Native American, to steady his feet on the slippery rocks (Hawthorne 56–57). What boats in his time would risk the trip into the mist of the thundering water, and, indeed, why would they? He had never imagined the ubiquitous tourists, taking selfies at every view of the falls; yet, with Hawthorne’s devotion to experiencing the falls for himself turning over in my mind, I could picture him shaking his head, penning critiques of their shortsighted, sightseeing eyes—eyes that failed to perceive what he had spent days attempting to apprehend.Despite all the wonders I have experienced that Hawthorne had not—from traveling by jet to scuba diving to gazing at the Hubble’s views of the cosmos—the falls held me: beautiful, amazing, awesome. I was mute. Almost two centuries ago, Hawthorne used words to describe the same-yet-different falls that I viewed. I have only a few words to add. Not one drop of the hundreds of thousands of gallons of water that falls per second will pass through the falls again in the same exact form. Every drop of water that falls is in exactly the right place at the right time of its existence. As was Hawthorne. As was I.

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