Fifty years ago, New York was little more than a village; now, it is a
fine city with three hundred thousand inhabitants. I have never seen
any city so admirably adapted for commerce. It is built upon a narrow
island, between Long Island Sound and the Hudson River, Broadway running
up it like the vertebrae of some huge animal, and the other streets
diverging from it at right angles, like the ribs; each street running to
the river, and presenting to the view a forest of masts.
There are some fine buildings in this city, but not many. Astor House,
although of simple architecture, is, perhaps, the grandest mass; and
next to that, is the City Hall, though in architecture very indifferent.
In the large room of the latter are some interesting pictures and busts
of the presidents, mayors of the city, and naval and military officers,
who have received the thanks of Congress and the freedom of the city.
Some are very fair specimens of art: the most spirited is that of
Commodore Perry, leaving his sinking vessel, in the combat on the Lakes,
to hoist his flag on board of another ship. Decatur's portrait is also
very fine. Pity that such a man should have been sacrificed in a
foolish duel!
At the corner of many of the squares, or _blocks_ of buildings, as they
are termed here, is erected a very high mast, with a cap of liberty upon
the top. The only idea we have of the cap of liberty is, the _bonnet
rouge_ of the French; but the Americans will not copy the French,
although they will the English; so they have a cap of their own, which
(begging their pardon), with its gaudy colours and gilding, looks more
like a _fool's cap_ than any thing else.
New York is not equal to London, nor Broadway to Regent Street, although
the Americans would compare them. Still, New York is very superior to
most of our provincial towns, and, to a man who can exist out of London,
Broadway will do very well for a lounge--being wide, three miles long,
and the upper part composed of very handsome houses; besides which, it
may almost challenge Regent Street for pretty faces, except on Sundays.
[On Sundays the coloured population take possession of Broadway.] Many
of the shops, or _stores_, as they are here called, (for in this land of
equality nobody keeps a shop), have already been fitted up with large
plate-glass fronts, similar to those in London, and but for the
depression which has taken place, many more would have followed the
example.
Among the few discrepancies observable between this city and London, are
the undertakers' _shops_. In England they are all wooden windows below
and scutcheons above; planks and shavings within--in fact, mere
workshops. Here they are different: they have large glass fronts, like
a millinery or cut-glass shop with us, and the shop runs back thirty or
forty feet, its sides being filled with coffins standing on end,
mahogany and French polished. Therein you may select as you please,
from the seven feet to receive the well-grown adult, to the tiny
receptacle of what Burns calls, "Wee unchristened babe." I have,
however, never heard of any one choosing their own coffin; they
generally leave it to their relatives to perform that office.
I may here remark, that the Americans are sensible enough not to throw
away so much money in funerals as we do; still it appears strange to an
Englishman to see the open hearse containing the body, drawn by only one
horse, while the carriages which follow are drawn by two: to be sure,
the carriages generally contain six individuals, while the hearse is a
sulky, and carries but one.
The New York tradesmen do all they can, as the English do, to attract
the notice of the public by hand-bills, placards, advertisements,
etcetera; but in one point they have gone a-head of us. Placards,
etcetera, may be read by those who look upwards or straight-forward, or
to the right or to the left; but there are some people who walk with
their eyes to the ground, and consequently see nothing. The New Yorkers
have provided for this contingency, by having large marble tablets, like
horizontal tomb-stones, let into the flag pavements of the _trottoir_ in
front of their shops, on which is engraven in duplicate, turning both
ways, their names and business; so, whether you walk up or down
Broadway, if you cast your eyes downwards so as not to see the placards
above, you cannot help reading the inscriptions below.
Every traveller who has visited this city has spoken of the numerous
fires which take place in it, and the constant running, scampering,
hallooing, and trumpeting of the firemen with their engines; but I do
not observe that any one has attempted to investigate the causes which
produce, generally speaking, three or four fires in the twenty-four
hours. New York has certainly great capabilities, and every chance of
improvement as a city; for, about one house in twenty is burnt down
every year, and is always rebuilt in a superior manner. But, as to the
causes, I have, after minute inquiry, discovered as follows. These
fires are occasioned--
1st. By the notorious carelessness of black servants, and the custom of
smoking cigars all the day long.
2nd. By the knavery of men without capitol, who insure to double and
treble the value of their stock, and realise an honest penny by setting
fire to their stores. (This is one reason why you can seldom recover
from a fire-office without litigation.)
3rd. From the hasty and unsubstantial way in which houses are built up,
the rafters and beams often communicating with the flues of the
chimneys.
4th. Conflagrations of houses not insured, effected by agents employed
by the _fire-insurance companies_, as a punishment to some, and a
warning to others, who have neglected to take out policies.
These were gravely stated to me as the causes of so many fires in New
York. I cannot vouch for the truth of the last, although I feel bound
to mention it. I happen to be lodged opposite to two fire-engine
houses, so that I always know when there is a fire. Indeed, so does
every body; for the church nearest to it tolls its bell, and this
tolling is repeated by all the others; and as there are more than three
hundred churches in New York, if a fire takes place no one can say that
he is not aware of it.
The duty of firemen is admirably performed by the young men of the city,
who have privileges for a servitude of seven years; but they pay too
dearly for their privileges, which are an exemption from militia and
jury summons. Many of them are taken off by consumptions, fevers, and
severe catarrhs, engendered by the severe trials to which they are
exposed: the sudden transitions from extreme heat to extreme cold in
winter, being summoned up from a warm bed, when the thermometer is below
zero--then exposed to the scorching flames--and afterwards (as I have
frequently seen them myself), with the water hanging in icicles upon
their saturated clothes. To recruit themselves after their fatigue and
exhaustion they are compelled to drink, and thus it is no wonder that
their constitutions are undermined. It is nevertheless a favourite
service, as the young men have an opportunity of shewing courage and
determination, which raises them high in the opinion of their brother
citizens.
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I made a purchase at a store; an intelligent looking little boy brought
it home for me. As he walked by my side, he amused me very much by
putting the following questions:--
"Pray, captain, has Mr Easy left the King of England's service?"
"I think he has," replied I; "if you recollect, he married and went on
shore."
"Have you seen Mr Japhet lately?" was the next query.
"Not very lately," replied I; "the last time I saw him was at the
publisher's."
The little fellow went away, perfectly satisfied that they were both
alive and well.