[Illustration:
Plan
_OF THE CITY_
--of--
NEW YORK
]
AMERICAN LIFE.
A NARRATIVE
OF
TWO YEARS’ CITY AND COUNTRY RESIDENCE
IN THE
UNITED STATES.
BY MRS. FELTON.
Third Thousand.
BOLTON PERCY:
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHORESS.
1843.
LEEDS:
PRINTED BY D. I. ROEBUCK, GRACE STREET.
PREFACE.
In submitting these few sheets to the public, the authoress wishes to be
considered as presenting a faithful record of her observations, and of
events as they occurred within the limits of her experience, during her
continuance in the United States.
Whenever she has felt herself called upon to give an opinion, she has
endeavoured impartially to comply; and when, in delineating characters,
she has been compelled to draw upon fiction for names, in order to avoid
inflicting an injury by an unnecessary exposure; it may be concluded
with certainty that the _names alone are fictitious_, and that the
individuals represented are correctly depicted in their proper colours.
While employed in preparing this small volume for the press, that
opinion, so frequently expressed by the Americans, has often occurred to
her: viz. “That should a book be written on their country, containing
truth in its unalloyed simplicity, it would for ever lie on the shelves
of the bookseller, as no encouragement would be given in England to any
publication on _such a subject_, unless it were rendered palatable by
libels and falsehoods.” Although sufficiently convinced herself, of the
fallacy of this notion, still it has had some influence in inducing as
much caution, as if these pages were about to be submitted as a test to
decide the fate of some such experiment.
In the present edition the reader is presented with an additional
chapter, devoted, almost exclusively, to the subject of Emigration.
Indeed the authoress has endeavoured throughout, so to unite amusement
with useful information, as to make her work desirable both as a book of
utility to the emigrant, and as a volume of entertainment, to those who
prefer viewing the other side the Atlantic through the safer medium of
the press. How far she has succeeded, must be left to the judgement of a
discerning public to determine.
_Railway Cottage, Bolton Percy._
AMERICAN LIFE.
CHAPTER I.
THE VOYAGE.
The day on which we sailed was clear and serene, and we gently drifted
with the tide down Belfast Lough into the Channel. Assured that I should
not be able to see land on the following morning, I kept my eyes fixed
upon the hills in the distance till darkness rendered them no longer
visible. I never undertake a voyage or a journey without experiencing a
vague feeling of melancholy--there is something so strangely depressing
in the preliminaries of departure; the packing of boxes--the arrangement
of books, clothes, and papers. Indeed the whole valedictory ceremony is
throughout a series of preparations, every way calculated to excite
sensations of sadness. I seldom visit a place, even for a few weeks,
without meeting with some agreeable associates, whose company I feel
loath to relinquish. But these ephemeral disquietudes form but a shadowy
representation of the emotions that agitated my frame, when I was
leaving the shores of Europe, with the prospect of a long, and perhaps,
a final separation. These unpleasant sensations, however, were greatly
alleviated, by considering that the presence of those whom I hold dearer
than all other earthly treasures, was with me in the vessel; I mean my
husband and my children.
The next morning, we found ourselves going at a rapid rate under the
influence of a gale, far too brisk for personal comfort. Our vessel was
rather small, but she was, what is termed by sailors “a good sea-boat;”
and for that reason alone, on account of her pitching and rolling, was
very unpleasant for passengers. The whole of the company in the cabin
were distressingly affected with nausea, and so long as the gale lasted,
we were quite in a passive and suffering condition.
This distressing concomitant of a long voyage affects individuals
variously, according to their ages, constitutions, and previous habits
of life. My personal sufferings which were very severe, were augmented
by the care of an infant of six months. I had a servant on board, but
she required as much attention from the steward as myself: and I now
discovered to my great inconvenience, what I had frequently heard others
affirm,--that very few female servants, whatever be their
representations, are capable of performing their duties during the first
week of a voyage.
The next day the gale increased to something like a storm, and for
safety, I was recommended to retire to my birth. While lying there,
helpless and almost in an inanimate state, a box which had escaped my
notice containing a compass, fell from a small shelf just above my head,
and struck me a violent blow with its sharp corner, upon my temples.
From the weight of the box, it was supposed that, had my head reclined
only one-fourth of an inch in another direction, the consequences must
have been fatal: my infant also had a narrow escape, having been removed
from my side only a few minutes before. I suffered much however, as it
was; but I ought eternally to acknowledge, with lively feelings of
gratitude, this merciful interposition of an over-ruling Providence in
my favour.
During the continuance of this storm or gale, all the passengers on
board without a single exception were laid aside--the assistance of a
female could not be obtained either for love or for money. There we lay,
helpless in our berths, and I think, I never partook of food for upwards
of two days; nor was my case in this respect, by any means singular. I
have performed long voyages both before and since, and have always been
similarly affected.
I would earnestly recommend families going abroad, who are anxious to
secure the advantage of a surgeon, to require a personal interview with
the individual who is to act in that capacity; particularly if they sail
from a foreign port. Such a precaution would often prevent much
disappointment, as the person who is introduced as “the doctor,” not
unfrequently turns out to be some vulgar fellow, redolent of rum, and
dressed in shabby black; who enjoys the privilege of a free passage, and
commonly earns the hearty contempt of all who are doomed to endure his
society.
The cabin of a packet ship bound to a distant port, is a bazaar of
character. Here are assembled individuals, the very antipodes of each
other in religion, politics, employment, country, and language. Here,
the gay and the grave, the religious and the profane, with their
peculiar prejudices and partialities, meet upon one common plane of
equality. Under no other circumstances can this take place. Boarding
houses indeed, on the Continent and in America, have some resemblance;
but there, an opportunity is afforded for selection; here, choice is
impossible. The company, be its composition ever so heterogeneous, is
confined within a circumscribed space from which there is no retreat;
and all are obliged to spend the whole of their time together in that
part of the vessel which they have selected.
Our cabin company however, was by no means numerous. Besides myself and
my family, it consisted of the captain and his wife, both originally
from Connecticut; a Mrs. Johnson, an English lady; an Irish lady from
Antrim; an English manufacturer; a young American merchant; a young
Irishman; and a youth of dubious origin, called James.
The captain and his lady were, in point of disposition, the most
unlovely specimen of Americans I ever met with, either before or since;
and were every way calculated to give us a most unfavourable opinion of
the state of society in their own country. Ever since his first voyage
to Europe, the captain had entertained a disrelish for the company of
Englishmen. This arose from two circumstances, that none but a person of
his cast of mind would adduce as distinguishing marks of the English
character. I remember, one of these grievances was, that some person on
the quay at Liverpool had applied to him the unpalatable term of
“transported Yankee,” garnished with some accompaniments by no means
complimentary. For this, and something else equally important, he seemed
to consider himself justifiable in insulting every Englishman with whom
he came in contact, and lost no opportunity of indulging himself in
every unamiable species of retaliation that he found conveniently
practicable. Morose, and remarkably ignorant, he was eternally smoking
cigars; but fortunately for our comfort, possessed the negative virtue
of sobriety. Out of his profession, he was nobody, but we had just
reason to believe that his nautical talents were of the highest order;
and to us, this was certainly a matter of the first importance.
Our private cabins, in which were our berths, were so constructed, that
every word might be distinctly heard in the public cabin. I remember
that, on the first day of our embarkation, while I was alone in mine,
changing my dress, the cabin was at that time occupied by the captain
and a few of his personal friends, who had accompanied him on the
voyage, with a view of returning in the Pilot boat. Their conversation
was about the passengers on board, all of whom, excepting myself, were
on deck at that time: I then heard the captain affirm, after alluding to
his English passengers, “_that if an Englishman were to fall over board
he would not throw out a rope to save him_.” I distinctly heard him make
this assertion, and shall never forget the sensations it produced--I
heard also his wife’s amiable _applaudissement_ of this fiend-like
expression! This last did not surprise me, as it was in exact accordance
with the judgement I had formed of her character, from the first glance
of her physiognomy. By cautioning them for the future, to be more
guarded in their private communications, I let them know I was in
possession of their sentiments; and I thought proper to point out the
way in which I obtained my information, in order to convince them that I
was above the meanness of listening.
The captain used to commence the day with doing the formidable among the
sailors. Having discharged upon these poor fellows, all the steam of ill
humour that had accumulated during the previous night, he would descend
into the cabin and take breakfast. We had frequently remarked, that
during this repast he invariably attempted to make some one of us
miserable, by indulging in some insulting remarks, artfully delivered in
the form of opinions; so, in order to defeat his amiable intentions, we
agreed to preserve a dead silence, or only to speak in the most laconic
manner possible; concluding that he could not long amuse himself with a
monologue. His advent was agreed upon to be the signal for us to prepare
to carry our designs into execution. There we sat--with nun like
gravity, quaffing our coffee in silence, as toasts are drank to the
memory of the departed!
This negative species of defence had its desired effect. Annoyed by our
taciturnity, which necessarily imposed a similar penance on himself, he
would turn in despair to his wife. Here he was either entirely
unsuccessful, or otherwise amused with an inceptive taste of matrimonial
infelicity.
This was the second month of their marriage. His wife was the daughter
of a Connecticut farmer, she was about twenty-five years of age, and
somewhat diminutive in person. Her countenance on all occasions,
preserved the rigidity of a statue, except when excited to dart a look
of malevolence; or when she endeavoured to assume an air of authority:
on this latter occasion it presented the funniest appearance imaginable.
Transplanted from the domestic employment of a small farm, to do the
honours of the cabin table, she evidently felt herself greatly exalted,
and bore her elevation with the worst possible grace. Of a mean and
suspicious cast of mind, and conscious of being alike destitute of
outward attractions and internal excellencies, she was in consequence,
jealous in the extreme, and always interpreted any little attention paid
to another, in her presence, as a direct insult offered to herself. Her
conduct to the poor black steward was marked with haughtiness and
cruelty; and if it be true what I have often heard affirmed--that vulgar
pride is found united with meanness and tyranny; certainly in this
instance, the unity of this triune cluster of graces is strictly
preserved.
The English lady, Mr. Johnson, was an amiable personage. She was, in my
judgement, as correct a personification of virtue as any with whom I
have ever met. Devout without superstition--cheerful without
levity--refined without affectation--and well informed, without literary
pretension, she might pass for a model.
The Antrim lady was a very good natured creature. She stood on equal
ground with the captain’s wife in point of educational advantages, or
rather disadvantages; but was her opposite in every thing else. She was
remarkably agreeable, and possessed that truly Christian qualification I
so much admire--an earnest desire to make every one happy. Her foibles
were the result of her unfortunately limited education. But I found in
her case, as in some others, that a redundant flow of animal spirits is
no certain evidence of weak intellects or shallow feelings.
The young Irishman was a warm hearted being. His constant amusement was
humming tunes and writing poetry. For the latter he had an unconquerable
passion. He expressed himself as being confidently assured, that he
possessed the true spirit of poetry; and that, at some time not far
distant, he should distinguish himself above the herd of mankind. He was
greatly encouraged to devote his time to the muses, by having heard it
repeatedly said in his family, that his great grandfather was a
poet--that is, that he had written something that had pleased somebody.
From this, it appears, that the poor young man, supposing poetry to be
like the gout, hereditary, and like that distemper, would sleep in the
blood for generations, and descending from father to son, would break
out after the lapse of a century--concluded hypothetically, that the
fire of poetry would some day blaze out from him, and astonish the
world.
Poets, like other authors, and some say authoresses, are reported as
never being satisfied without large draughts of unqualified praise. From
his teasing the gentlemen with his verses, it seems he possessed this
unfortunate propension; and I must admit, that if his poetry deserved as
much praise as it produced merriment, _it was excellent_!
The American merchant was a gentleman of a quiet disposition, and rather
reserved. Although both countrymen, the captain and he appeared most
cordially to detest each other.
There was a youth on board, about twenty years of age, whom the captain
called “James,” and who described himself as an Englishman. He was
ostensibly under the protection of the captain, who appeared to be
somewhat ashamed of his charge. He surpassed all, of whom I have ever
heard or read, in the vicious practice of telling falsehoods. For the
first few days he led us all into a labyrinth of misunderstandings. His
tales were so perplexingly mischievous, and their fallacy at the same
time so easy of detection, that it was truly astonishing for what
purpose he gave them utterance. The gentlemen appeared determined to
convince him by forcible arguments, that such conduct would not be
tolerated with impunity. On a particular occasion, his presence of mind
happily suggested absence of body, as the best means to avoid the
result of a discovery likely to prove unpleasant _to his feelings_: and,
as fear drove him to the forward part of the vessel, shame kept him
there--a place, no doubt far better suited to his taste than the one he
had evacuated. How the captain would account for this to his friends, I
cannot imagine; but they must know the propensity of this James too well
to believe _his_ assertions, even if called forth by a dispute
respecting _the certainty of his own existence_! He said he was an
Englishman, and _that_ we considered conclusive evidence that he was
not.
After we had been a few hours under weigh, one of the crew jumped over
board, under the influence of intoxication; a boat was immediately
lowered, and the poor foolish fellow was rescued from a watery grave.
The passengers, from a mistaken notion of good nature, had furnished
this man with what might have proved his destruction. On this occasion,
the captain exerted his prerogative in a judicious manner, by compelling
all on board to surrender their stores of spirits, &c. and not a single
glass was allowed to either officers or men during the whole of the
voyage. This caused some murmuring, particularly among the passengers,
but they soon became reconciled to what was unavoidable; and although
several declared they should perish if deprived of their daily drops,
yet incredible as it may appear, there was not a single death registered
on the ship’s books from such a cause!
The steerage of the vessel was occupied by upwards of a hundred
passengers, almost the whole of whom were Irish: they behaved
exceedingly well. Perhaps the absence of the circulating medium of
friendship (whiskey) was the principal cause of their good conduct. The
following circumstance, which fell under my immediate notice, I confess,
inclines me to adopt this opinion. Shortly after we arrived at New York,
a vessel, freighted in a similar manner to this in which we were,
discharged its living cargo on the north side of the city. The
passengers leaped joyfully on shore, vociferating cheers for the Land of
Liberty, and rushed into the neighbouring spirit stores to regale
themselves. The liquor they imbibed so effectually blinded their minds
to all distinction of _meum_ and _tuum_, that they proceeded to select
_shillaleighs_ from a cargo of hickory wood just landed, that was sawn
into lengths of four feet, and of various degrees of thickness. With
these they furiously assailed each other--the police were ordered
out--and nearly all of them were allowed, for the space of a month (I
think,) to sing praises to the “land of liberty” within the walls of a
prison. Disorderly characters are much more severely punished in the
United States than here. With us, misconduct, proceeding from
intoxication, is too frequently treated as a joke--there, it is no joke.
After the distressing nausea had ceased to torment us, we found some few
enjoyments of which we had entertained no previous expectation. Those
who have not passed a moon-light evening at sea, are unacquainted with
one of the principal pleasures of life. The solemn, yet placid moaning
of the ocean--the rich variety of light and shade, produced by the
falling of the moon-beams on the waves--the boundless expanse that lies
open to the view--the peaceful grandeur that reigns, broken only by
sounds that harmonize with the majesty of the scene--all unite to
present an association of the peaceful, the splendid, and the sublime,
of which the pencil can convey no adequate idea.
With the converse of a friend, on these delightful evenings, when the
vessel was darting over the mighty waters with the celerity of a
swallow, I seemed to enjoy more than fabled Elysian pleasures. Or when
all was still, and the ship calmly reposing on the bosom of the ocean, I
could send my thoughts eastward, over the surrounding world of waters,
and indulge in a rapturous retrospect. At these seasons, the home of my
youthful days appeared invested with its most captivating attractions.
The village green--the grove, with the distant mill--the surrounding
landscape--
And every stump,--familiar to my sight
Recalled some fond idea of delight.
These scenes of my childhood, as if abounding with the delights of
Paradise, would excite emotions exquisitely sublime, yet slightly
tinctured with a pleasing sadness. Wherever, through this wide world, my
wandering feet may turn; my country, and particularly the place of my
nativity, will never cease to attract my affections with a cord--fine,
indeed, and tensile as the slightest gossamer, yet strong as the
stoutest cable.
This may be called an ebullition of enthusiasm, the sole effect of
feminine weakness--but the greatest characters on earth have confessed
the power of early associations. Seneca, banished to Corsica, found his
philosophy fail in a vain attempt to reconcile him to the island; and
pathetically entreats the soil of the land of his banishment, to lie
lightly on the ashes of the living. To Seneca, Corsica was a grave. But
on the other hand, Napoleon, to whom the same island was a cradle,
declared when in exile, that if once more permitted to see the place of
his nativity, he should embrace the ground with rapture; and even if led
blindfold, he could discover it by the very smell.
Our time hung heavily on our hands, during the day. The continual motion
of the vessel prohibited us from doing exactly what we desired; but I
fear, want of inclination prevented some of us from employing ourselves,
where useful employment was really practicable. During these hours of
idleness, the gentlemen amused themselves with shooting at stormy
petrels; birds in some degree resembling the martins, and whose
residence is confined to the main ocean: _it is said_ they are never to
be seen within two hundred miles of land. Shoot _at them_, they did
indeed, about twenty times a day; but although the birds were seen in a
state of quiescence, riding upon the summit of the huge waves,
frequently within a few yards of the gun’s muzzle--not one was ever
shot. From observation, I became so confident that they would _hit
something_, that I removed my children from the deck for safety.
Some say that these birds, like the enemies of the Puritans, possess a
charm against cold lead. This attribute is perhaps, as true as that of
their eternal residence on the waves of the ocean; and is not entirely
destitute of utility, if it serve to excuse the inexpertness of nautical
sportsmen.
We had been perplexed for many days with light winds, and were driven
far northward. After we had been about twenty days under sail, and had
reached a very high latitude, the air, influenced by the neighbouring
ice-bergs, became very cold. While in this position, one star-light
night, about seven o’clock, we were surprised by the appearance of a
phenomenon in the heavens, which we, at first conceived to be an _aurora
borealis_; but it did not correspond, in every particular, with the
descriptions we have read and heard of the _aurora_. I shall here
attempt to describe it.
Let the reader imagine the arc of a circle, about 90° in length, with
its concave side turned due north. From its _convex_ side, divergent
streams of light were seen about 30° in length, equal in all points, and
distinctly shewing in brilliant display, all the colours of the rainbow.
Without shooting or darting, they remained in all their splendour for a
full hour. After that period, they gradually began to grow dim, but
preserved their position till they became no longer visible: this was
about two hours from their first appearance.
The number of porpoises that played around the ship, seemed to enjoy as
much amusement as they imparted. The rapidity with which these unwieldly
creatures move, is very surprising. From a rough calculation, made by a
gentleman on board, taking the rate of the vessel for his datum, their
speed was about thirty miles per hour. We saw some flying fish; they are
elegant little things, and when seen in a certain position, resemble the
pictorial representation of miniature angels.
A few sharks were seen darting through the water. They abound on the
American coast, and render sea bathing very dangerous. Their usual
practice is, to scour the shore with the incoming tide, in search of
food; and for that reason, it is safe to bathe only when the tide is
receding. From ignorance of this circumstance, accidents have occurred
to Europeans, which in some instances, have been attended with fatal
consequences.
Naturalists have remarked that the shark turns on its side when in the
act of seizing its prey; and that while he is changing his position, the
object of his attack _has time_ to escape. This cannot have been
recorded from actual observation. The celerity with which the voracious
creature cuts through the water, surpasses comprehension--the human eye
can scarcely follow him. I have had frequent opportunities of observing
him when seizing his prey or a bait, and witnessed experiments made in
clear water for the purpose of attesting the truth of the above
assertion; and all that I could discover, amounts to a possibility that
he may perhaps, slightly swerve his body;--but, even if so, there is
scarcely time given for an intent observer to notice the motion; and to
escape when once within his reach, is absolutely impracticable.
In descending from the north we crossed the banks of Newfoundland. These
banks are covered with water, varying in depth from twenty to sixty
fathoms. Here, innumerable quantities of fish are nourished, by
vegetable substances washed down in the Gulf Stream; and fishing smacks,
from all parts of Europe and America, assemble here at certain seasons,
to take in their cargoes. Were the whole world supplied with fish from
this quarter, it is supposed no perceptible diminution would occur. The
eagerness of the fish in taking a bait in salt water is really
astonishing; and forms a striking contrast to the caution evinced, under
similar circumstances, by the fresh water species.
A fog prevailed during our passage across the banks. This, I understood,
is by no means an unusual occurrence. We found the water here to
preserve a uniformity of appearance with that on soundings: in the main
ocean it is many shades darker in colour.
Considering the immense traffic between Europe and the New World, I was
surprised at the paucity of vessels that crossed the field of our view;
during the whole passage, we only saw three! We spoke with two of these;
one was a whaler, in search of those monsters of the deep, of which we
had seen no less than nine.
After we had cleared the banks, we were favoured with an auspicious gale
that carried us along at a rapid rate, till we were very near land; but,
before we had the happiness to enjoy the sight of that desired object,
we were surrounded by another dense fog. We continued, however, to scud
along for several hours, till the captain judged it prudent to take in
sail; observing, that according to his reckoning, we must be close upon
land; and, that if the fog would permit him to discover a particular
floating light, he would take in the vessel the same night without the
assistance of a pilot. This, however, was not the case.
This evening, we of the cabin missed several things, on arranging our
luggage for landing. To those whom such advice will benefit, I would say
“Take from your main store, as few valuables as possible, that are
conveniently portable; and furnish yourselves with common articles, if
you wish to keep your superior ones.” The chief loss of my party was in
books, spoons, and children’s forks. I had provided the two latter
articles expressly for the occasion, in anticipation of what might
occur; and those who “borrowed” them, no doubt have discovered ere this,
that “it is not all gold that glitters”--nor yet silver.
The next morning’s sun shone bright to every eye on board.--The cry of
“Land off the larboard bow” was hailed with rapturous cheers--there
indeed it was, plain enough, and only about half a league from the
vessel--and there was the floating light, dimly flickering from the head
of an old hulk, moored at a similar distance on the starboard. When we
considered the thousands of miles we had sailed--the extremes of
latitude to which we were driven (from 40° to 65°)--the impracticability
of taking an observation for the two preceding days on account of the
weather--we were surprised at the judgement of the captain, who could,
under such disadvantages, bring a vessel through a fog within a few
cables’ length of land, and declare her position!
We sailed past Sandy Hook to the usual rendezvous of all vessels bound
to the city of New York--the quarantine ground. This place is situated
about seven miles from the city; it is a narrow channel, formed by the
near approximation of Staten Island and Long Island.
Close by the water’s edge on Staten Island, stands an hospital, for the
reception of invalids from all quarters of the world. It is chiefly
supported by a capitation tax of two dollars, which is demanded from
every foreigner before he lands; and in case of default, he is taken to
prison! But more of this hereafter. We were boarded and examined by a
surgeon, who found all to be in health, except one old woman, who, to
our consternation, was discovered in the steerage dangerously ill. She
was placed in a boat, and rowed to the shore with all expedition, and
died just as she entered the hospital. Had the poor old creature
departed ten minutes sooner, we should have been quarantined, I
understand for twenty days. After remaining here for nearly twelve
hours, we weighed anchor and floated with the tide to the city.