Once more flying up the noble Hudson. After you have passed West Point,
the highlands, through which the river has forced its passage, gradually
diminish, and as the shore becomes level, so does the country become
more fertile.
We passed the manor of Albany, as it is called, being a Dutch grant of
land, now in the possession of one person, a Mr Van Rensalaer, and
equal to many a German principality, being twenty miles by forty-eight
miles square. Mr Van Rensalaer still retains the old title of Patroon.
It is generally supposed in England that, in America, all property must
be divided between the children at the decease of the parent. This is
not the case. The entailing of estates was abolished by an act of
Congress in 1788, but a man may will away his property entirely to his
eldest son if he pleases. This is, however, seldom done; public opinion
is too strong against it, and the Americans fear public opinion beyond
the grave. Indeed, were a man so to act, the other claimants would
probably appeal to have the will set aside upon the grounds of lunacy,
and the sympathy of an American jury would decree in their favour.
As you ascend to Albany City, the banks of the river are very fertile
and beautiful, and the river is spotted with many very picturesque
little islands. The country seats, which fringe the whole line of
shore, are all built in the same, and very bad, style. Every house or
tenement, be it a palace or a cottage, has its porticos and pillars--a
string of petty Parthenons which tire you by their uniformity and
pretence.
I had intended to stop at Hudson, that I might proceed from thence to
New Lebanon to visit the Shaking Quakers; but, as I discovered that
there was a community of them not five miles from Troy, I, to avoid a
fatiguing journey, left Albany, and continued on to that city.
Albany is one of the oldest Dutch settlements, and among its inhabitants
are to be found many of the descendants of the Dutch aristocracy.
Indeed, it may even now be considered as a Dutch city. It is the
capital of the state of New York, with a population of nearly 30,000.
Its commerce is very extensive, as it is here that the Erie canal
communications with the Far West, as well as the Eastern States,
debouche into the Hudson.
We have here a singular proof, not only of the rapidity with which
cities rise in America, but also how superior energy will overcome every
disadvantage. Little more than twenty years ago, Albany stood by
itself, a large and populous city without a rival, but its population
was chiefly Dutch. The Yankees from the Eastern States came down and
settled themselves at Troy, not five miles distant, in opposition to
them. It would be supposed that Albany could have crushed this city in
its birth, but it could not, and Troy is now a beautiful city, with its
mayor, its corporation, and a population of 20,000 souls, and divides
the commerce with Albany, from which most of the eastern trade has been
ravished. The inhabitants of Albany are termed Albanians, those of
Troy, Trojans! In one feature these cities are very similar, being both
crowded with lumber and pretty girls.
I went out to see the Shakers at Niskayuna. So much has already been
said about their tenets that I shall not repeat them, further than to
observe that all their goods are in common, and that, although the sexes
mix together, they profess the vows of celibacy and chastity. Their
lands are in excellent order, and they are said to be very rich. [I
should be very sorry to take away the character of any community, but,
as I was a little sceptical as to the possibility of the vow of chastity
being observed under circumstances above alluded to, I made some
inquiries, and having met with one who had seceded from the fraternity,
I discovered that my opinion of human nature was correct, and the
conduct of the Shakers not altogether so. I must not enter into
details, as they would be unfit for publication.]
We were admitted into a long room on the ground-floors where the Shakers
were seated on forms, the men opposite to the women, and apart from each
other. The men were in their waistcoats and shirt-sleeves, twiddling
their thumbs, and looking awfully puritanical. The women were attired
in dresses of very light striped cotton, which hung about them like full
dressing-gowns, and concealed all shape and proportions. A plain mob
cap on their heads, and a thick muslin handkerchief in many folds over
their shoulders, completed their attire. They each held in their hands
a pocket-handkerchief as large as a towel, and of almost the same
substance. But the appearance of the women was melancholy and
unnatural; I say unnatural because it required to be accounted for.
They had all the advantages of exercise and labour in the open air, good
food, and good clothing; they were not overworked, for they are not
required to work more than they please; and yet there was something so
pallid, so unearthly in their complexions, that it gave you the idea
that they had been taken up from their coffins a few hours after their
decease: not a hue of health, not a vestige of colour in any cheek or
lip;--one cadaverous yellow tinge prevailed. And yet there were to be
seen many faces very beautiful, as far as regarded outline, but they
were the features of the beautiful in death. The men, on the contrary,
were ruddy, strong, and vigorous. Why, then, this difference between
the sexes, where they each performed the same duties, where none were
taxed beyond their strength, and all were well fed and clothed?
After a silence of ten minutes, one of the men of the community,
evidently a coarse illiterate person, rose and addressed a few words to
the spectators, requesting them not to laugh at what they saw, but to
behave themselves properly, etcetera, and then he sat down.
One of the leaders then burst out into a hymn, to a jigging sort of
tune, and all the others joined chorus. After the hymn was sung they
all rose, put away the forms on which they had been seated, and stood in
lines, eight in a row, men and women separate, facing each other, and
about ten feet apart--the ranks of men being flanked by the boys, and
those of the women by the girls. They commenced their dancing by
advancing in rows, just about as far as profane people do in _L'ete_
when they dance quadrilles, and then retreated the same distance, all
keeping regular time, and turning back to back after every third
advance. The movement was rather quick, and they danced to their own
singing of the following beautiful composition:--
Law, law, de lawdel law,
Law, law, de law,
Law, law, de lawdel law,
Lawdel, lawdel, law--
keeping time also with the hands as well as feet, the former raised up
to the chest, and hanging down like the fore-paws of a dancing bear.
After a quarter of an hour they sat down again, and the women made use
of their large towel pocket-handkerchiefs to wipe off the perspiration.
Another hymn was sung, and then the same person addressed the
spectators, requesting them not to laugh, and inquiring if any of them
felt a wish to be saved--adding, "Not one of you, I don't think." He
looked round at all of us with the most ineffable contempt, and then sat
down; and they sang another hymn, the burden of which was--
"Our souls are saved, and we are free
From vice and all in-i-qui-ty."
which was a very comfortable delusion, at all events.
They then rose again, put away the forms as before, and danced in
another fashion. Instead of _L'ete_, it was _Grande ronde_. About ten
men and women stood in two lines in the centre of the room, as a vocal
band of music, while all the others, two and two, women first and men
following, promenaded round, with a short quick step, to the tune
chaunted in the centre. As they went round and round, shaking their
paws up and down before them, the scene was very absurd, and I could
have laughed had I not felt disgusted at such a degradation of rational
and immortal beings. This dance lasted a long while, until the music
turned to croaking, and the perspiration was abundant; they stopped at
last, and then announced that their exercise was finished. I waited a
little while after the main body had dispersed, to speak with one of the
elders. "I will be with you directly," replied he, walking hastily
away; but he never came back.
I never heard the principle upon which they dance. David danced before
the ark; but it is to be presumed that David danced as well as he sung.
At least he thought so; for when his wife Michal laughed at him, he made
her conduct a ground of divorce.
Every community which works in common, and is provided for in the mass,
must become _rich_, especially when it has no children to maintain. It
is like receiving a person's labour in exchange for victuals and
clothing only, and this is all I can perceive that can be said in favour
of these people. Suffice it to say, I have a very bad opinion of them:
and were I disposed to dilate on the subject, I should feel no
inclination to treat them with the lenity shewn to them by other
travellers.
From this mockery, I went to see what had a real tendency to make you
feel religious--the Falls of the Mohawk, about three miles from Troy.
Picturesque and beautiful as all falling water is, to describe it is
extremely difficult, unless, indeed by a forced simile; the flow of
language is too tame for the flow of water; but if the reader can
imagine a ledge of black rocks, about sixty or seventy feet high, and
that over this ledge was poured simultaneously the milk of some millions
of cows, he will then have some idea of the beauty of the creaming Falls
of the Mohawk, imbedded as they are in their wild and luxuriant scenery.
Close to the Falls, I perceived a few small wooden shealings, appearing,
under the majestic trees which overshadowed them, more like dog-kennels
than the habitations of men: they were tenanted by Irish emigrants, who
had taken work at the new locks forming on the Erie canal. I went up to
them. In a tenement about fourteen feet by ten, lived an Irishman, his
wife, and family, and seven boys as he called them, young men from
twenty to thirty years of age, who boarded with him. There was but one
bed, on which slept the man, his wife, and family. Above the bed were
some planks, extending half way the length of the shealing, and there
slept the seven boys, without any mattress, or even straw, to lie upon.
I entered into conversation with them: they complained bitterly of the
times, saying that their pay was not 2 shillings 6 pence of our money
per day, and that they could not live upon it. This was true, but the
distress had been communicated to all parts, and they were fortunate in
finding work at all, as most of the public works had been discontinued.
I mentioned to them that the price of labour in Ohio, Illinois, and the
West, was said to be two dollars a-day, and asked them, why they did not
go there? They replied, that such were the price quoted, to induce
people to go, but that they never could find it when they arrived; that
the clearing of new lands was attended with ague and fever; and that if
once down with these diseases there was no one to help them to rise
again. I looked for the pig, and there he was, sure enough, under the
bed.