CHAPTER V.

COUNTRY RESIDENCE.--THUNDER AND LIGHTNING.--CLIMATE.--CHEAP LAW.

After various excursions and much deliberation, we fixed upon a small

estate, comprising an excellent dwelling-house, with out-offices, and

above fifty acres of land, delightfully situated on Long Island, and

within about twenty-five miles from New York. This was the most

delightful residence, both for beauty of situation and internal

convenience that I ever inhabited, but with all its attractions, it was

the scene of my severest afflictions.

The agreeable change from city to country at the delightful season of

spring, made the first few weeks pass away most pleasantly. In this

quarter of the globe, winter reigns with undisputed sway, from the first

day of November to the last of April. At the close of this period,

nature, refreshed by so long a repose and enlivened by the genial warmth

of the sun, throws off the sombre robe of winter, and suddenly appears

clad in her most lovely attire. Birds of gay plumage resembling those

of the tropics, with woodland flowers of all hues, and the bright

foliage of the forest trees, simultaneously spring into existence with a

rapidity that with us, would be considered miraculous. As an instance, I

distinctly remember the buds of the trees being firmly closed on the

28th of April, and on the 12th of the following May, the foliage of the

whole of them was as fully developed as in the midst of summer.

Strictly speaking, the American spring is confined to the first

fortnight in May. It is a most delightful season, but sadly too short.

Birds, such as for beauty, I never before saw at large, enliven the

scenery with their bright plumage. Choice flowers, thick and numberless

“as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks in Vallombrosa” are here seen,

with their rich colours enhancing each others charms by a beauteous

contrast. While myriads of butterflies, not the small pale coloured

things of northern Europe, but creatures with wings of uncommon size and

beauty, contribute their share to increase this fund of pleasure.

Neither pen nor pencil can do justice to the landscape scenery at this

period, viewed as it is, through the medium of a clear atmosphere, that

imparts a glowing warmth and renders the whole truly enchanting.

Every rose has its thorn, and the same bright sun that calls into

existence these beauties, awakens also swarms of serpents and venomous

reptiles of every kind. The bite of some of these is attended with

distressing circumstances, and others among them, such as the black

serpent and the copper-headed viper, have been known to inflict mortal

wounds. I believe I am not whimsically affected, yet I could never look

upon these dreadful creatures without shuddering, as they wriggled their

way in odious contortions just from before my feet. The caution required

to avoid stepping upon them, and the fear of some that are known to

pursue the human species, greatly detracted from the pleasure of my

woodland rambles; and, like the sword impending over the head of

Damocles, dashed all my rural pleasure with fearful apprehension.

One day while walking in the garden, I narrowly escaped a bite from a

black serpent, which our man-servant afterwards succeeding in killing;

its skin was variegated with all the darker shades of different colours

beautifully arranged: it measured five feet two inches in length. After

this, I was determined to walk in no other than a clear path.

About the latter part of May the heat of the sun becomes oppressive.

Then, farewell to pleasure. Clouds of musquitoes are ushered into

existence, and myriads of flies fill every room. Now our dress, and

almost our lives, become burthensome, we fan ourselves from morning to

night and feel for those who are not blessed with an ice-house. Although

the common flies are extremely numerous, they bear no proportion to the

musquitoes in point of annoyance. These are considered as minor evils by

some persons, but as respects myself, the sharp stinging wounds

inflicted by the latter, will not be very soon forgotten. I was confined

to the house under medical treatment for a fortnight, in consequence of

a bite I received from a musquito. Certainly this is a singular case;

but still it furnishes a proof of their noxious powers. I have often

been told, that in their visitations, they respect the persons of those

who are accustomed to drink largely of rum; but to the truth of this

assertion my eyes and understanding refused their assent. Ablution in

this liquor, it is true, is very grateful after enduring a day’s

campaign with them; and as a lotion for allaying the pain produced by

these insects, it is certainly useful.

With the hot weather comes thunder and lightning, and rain. The latter

invariably falls in torrents, and if the wheat grew as high and as heavy

in the ear as with us, it certainly could never arrive at maturity. A

transatlantic thunder storm is truly sublime and terrible. The sky first

becomes covered with black clouds, the wind blows violently, the clouds

suddenly expand, and emit what appears to be a broad stream of liquid

fire; the thunder instantaneously bursts forth with a crash, that I

suppose, all the artillery in the world could not equal. This is usually

repeated twice or thrice, and the storm exhausted by its own violence,

is suddenly succeeded by a delightful calm. Æolus rends the vail of

black clouds from the face of the sun, which now seems to shine with

increasing heat and splendour; while the earth, being previously parched

with excessive heat, and now suddenly deluged with torrents of rain,

emits clouds of vapour, that for a short time envelope the landscape in

a dense fog. This is quickly dispersed by the excessive heat of the sun;

the arid earth again thirsts for moisture, and we soon forget the storm.

The opinion prevailing in Europe respecting the salubrity of the United

States, is more favourable than an examination will warrant. My remarks

on this subject are the result of a patient and most painful

investigation, aided by experience, alas, too dearly purchased. I shall

confine my observations on the climate to the first summer we passed in

America, and the succeeding winter; which, from being more uniform than

the last year, are less liable to objection. The state of the

thermometer and the variations of the winds, I select from a diary kept

by my husband during our residence in the United States. The greatest

heat this summer was a hundred and five degrees. From mid-day to five in

the afternoon, during the months of July, August, and September, the

thermometer ranged between ninety and a hundred degrees--seldom above

the latter, and in very few instances below the former; while the

universal stillness of the air, rendered the heat quite as overpowering,

and even more so, than the state of the index warrants us to suppose.

The climate, and its effects upon the constitution, are always

distasteful subjects to the Americans. They cannot subscribe to any

other doctrine, than that which recommends theirs as the most salubrious

climate in the world. This is asserted by them with as much confidence

as if it were a self-evident truth; and all who dispute it, are in

danger of being overwhelmed by a torrent of displeasure. A physician

paid us a visit one broiling day in July, and certainly did acknowledge

that it was then hot--but, checking himself, he observed, “that the heat

was nothing to speak of--just fair summer weather--hotter, no doubt than

in England--but the perfection of summer.” We observed that the heat

had, for some days past, been above ninety-six degrees in the shade. As

we expected, he manifested symptoms of incredulity, which however, we

soon dispelled by referring him to the thermometer, then standing at

ninety-eight degrees. In the absence of positive proof like this, they

will endeavour to evade the question in any way, rather than submit to

acknowledge any fact that would jeopardize the character of their

climate. And truly it is admirable, if a Jamaica summer succeeded by a

Moscow winter, under one parallel, be acknowledged the standard of

perfection.

I discovered to my sorrow, that the morning air here is not so wholesome

as in England; on the contrary, it is considered most pernicious. This

greatly perplexed me in selecting the best time for a walk. The

physician had interdicted the matutinal breezes--the mid-day was not to

be thought of--and the evening gales were very unwholesome, and

frequently as deadly and chill as the breath of the death angel. There

are no cool evenings here in the summer as with us, so refreshing and so

pleasant, in which we may luxuriate in all the delights of an evening’s

ramble. While the sun is above the horizon, he blazes away with

insufferable heat, and his descent is mostly succeeded by a chillness

that resembles the icy hand of death to the feelings, and frequently is

such in reality to those who are often exposed to its influence. The

sudden vicissitudes of the atmosphere, I consider the most dangerous

feature of the whole affair; for, incredible as it may appear, the

mercury has fallen from ninety-five to fifty-six degrees in the short

space of three hours. A variation of twenty or twenty-five degrees, in

the same period, is by no means an uncommon occurrence.

The houses in the country are almost universally formed of wood, the

best of them are faced with shingles (thin plates of cedar,) neatly

painted: these are by no means deficient in comfort. For the sake of

coolness in summer, they are so constructed as to furnish a shaded walk

on both sides: and when flowers are trained to climb up the pillars, the

whole has a very pleasing appearance.

During the hours of mid-day, no work can be done in the fields by the

white men; the “hands” therefore, return home and doze away the time in

the out offices, and work early and late in order to atone for their

meridian slumber.

The city is preferable as a place of residence during the heat of

summer. The neat awnings that shelter the whole of the side walks prove

an agreeable protection from the powerful influence of the sun’s rays,

when it is necessary to go from the doors. During the hottest part of

the day little is done by the gentlemen, besides loitering about,

reading the newspapers, and drinking iced punch, and other mysterious

compounds; while the ladies, reclining on the sofas fan themselves,

drink lemonade, and doze. Business transactions of all kinds occupy the

early hours of the morning; then the ice carts perambulate the city, and

provisions for the day are procured. After mid-day the streets are

deserted; those who have leisure, retire to doze away the hours; the

shopkeeper closes his doors and slumbers behind the counter; a solemn

stillness reigns, and the city seem forsaken and desolate.

The twilight is of very short duration, and the setting sun is succeeded

by a greater state of darkness than with us; but, as a compensation, the

moonlight appears clearer and much brighter, and in winter, it is truly

delightful.

The scorching summer usually terminates with September; and is succeeded

by a month of the most charming weather I ever experienced. This is

October--the American autumn. Now the sun’s dreaded rays lay aside a

portion of their fiery force, the forest trees begin to change the hue

of their leaves, and, instead of green, nature’s universal livery,

colours of all shades gradually appear, from the dark purple to the

lightest yellow. The immense variety of trees accounts for the many

coloured foliage, and if variety be charming, it is here beheld in

perfection--not merely the sombre tints seen at the same season in an

English coppice--but purple, red, brown, and every colour that can be

produced on the palette of the artist.

This is likewise the season for abundance. Apples, the finest in the

world, peaches, melons, and fruit of every kind that grace the orchard,

are produced in such profusion, that even in the city they are sold for

very little more than the expense of their carriage. Maze, which is here

cultivated with singular care and judgement, is now seen in every

direction, waving its purple tassels in the breeze; and imparting a

peculiar character to the landscape scenery.

The iron reign of winter usually commences about the middle of November.

From that time till the last days of April the weather is excessively

cold, but the atmosphere it must be allowed, is delightfully clear and

pleasant to the eye. Were it a matter of choice, and were I doomed to

live in America, I should certainly prefer a perpetual winter, cold as

it is, to the broiling summer and its extreme variations, with their

dreaded consequences.

The lowest point of the thermometer this winter was three degrees below

zero. This was in January, but for several days it was below ten

degrees, and for weeks, it seldom rose higher than eighteen. Although

the cold in winter is very severe, still very little rain falls; or I

should rather say, rain seldom falls; but hail, sleet, and snow comes

plentifully in storms of considerable duration. In the absence of these

the air is cold indeed, but delightfully pure and translucent.

The changes of the thermometer in winter are neither so sudden nor so

rapid as in summer, but the winds are as fickle then, as during any

period of the year. Those from the north and the west are equally cold,

and the _north-west_ wind is dreaded in winter more than any other.

Frequently the wind will _suddenly_ veer from a particular point of the

compass to the one diametrically opposite. I never knew this to take

place in England.

According to what I have advanced, the greatest heat during this year

was 105°, and the greatest cold 3° below zero; the extreme variation

therefore, will be 108°. Hence it appears, that during the summer, New

York, which is situated about 40° of latitude, endures the heat of Egypt

or Arabia, and, in winter, the cold of Stockholm or Petersburg. Nor is

this all, for in no part of the old world, are the diurnal vicissitudes

of the atmosphere either so sudden or in such extremes. Petersburg is

cold in winter and cool in summer: Egypt is never absolutely cold--but

the climate of the eastern shores of North America is ever variable, and

alone uniform in unwholesomeness.

The _miasma_ produced by the heat of the sun, from the vegetable matter

deposited in the numberless marshes, that every where abound in an

uncleared country, is another fruitful source of disease. Then there are

sicknesses arising from local causes. With a climate marked by such

extremes of temperature, and vicissitudes so sudden, combined with the

pestilential effluvia arising from vegetable decomposition, there can be

no wonder if America is one of the most unhealthy places in the world.

Had I been in possession of these facts before I crossed the Atlantic, I

should no doubt have concluded as I am now compelled to do, by

dear-bought experience; but no work that I could meet with was

sufficiently explicit on this point; all the information I could collect

was delivered in terms too vague and indefinite to arrest the attention.

Many persons from Europe have visited the United States, for the

prudential purpose of making an experiment, prior to their removal

thither to spend the remainder of their days. They have, perhaps, landed

just in the most healthy season of the year, and their attention being

wholly engrossed by pecuniary matters, they entirely overlooked the

subject of health. Attracted by novelty and charmed with the prospect,

they have sent for their families and enrolled themselves as citizens;

but a year’s experience, attended with a few fits of sickness, dispels

the delusion, and convinces them, that the same country that appears so

pleasant to the eye of a visiter, may present a different aspect when

adopted for a permanent residence.

It is not my intention to dwell long in detailing the afflictions of my

own family from ill health, but I cannot, with justice to my readers,

omit all notice of this circumstance. We suffered the most in the

country with the bilious fever, and the distressing attacks of the

chills; but I am thankful to say, none of us sunk under these

visitations. With the exception of one little girl, myself and my family

consisting of five individuals, besides three servants, were all at the

same time confined to our beds. Many of our neighbours were in the same

condition as ourselves, and I fear some were far worse. No relief could,

therefore, be expected from that quarter. Our medical attendant was

himself at the point of death, and the attention of others was wholly

engrossed by their own connections.

So general was the epidemic, that no doubt, numbers were lost for want

of proper attention, and those few who were well, and from motives of

commisseration or curiosity, were induced to pay us a short visit,

_entertained_ us with the peculiar distresses of a long list of the

dying and the dead. I hourly expected some of us would bid adieu to this

world, and then the most I could hope for, was a silent interment in

unconsecrated ground, with no other requiem than the ocean’s deep moan

as it laved the neighbouring shore, or the sighing of the breezes on the

trees of the forest.

Providence, however, did not forsake us. One evening, a person chanced

to call who knew my husband, and at his own suggestion, took our horse

and wagon and went in quest of assistance. Contrary to our expectations,

his exertions were crowned with success. He returned with a clever

active American woman, to whom we were under great obligations, for she

acted both as physician and nurse, and soon made us all as comfortable

as circumstances would permit. From that day we began to recover, though

it was months before the dreaded disorder entirely forsook us.

In contemplating the manners, customs, and affairs of this singular

people, I am constrained to admit that there is much to admire, and many

things worthy of commendation. Among these, the general character and

circumstances of the great mass of the people stand prominently forth.

In consequence of the high price of labour of every kind, and the

comparative ease with which the essentials of life may be obtained, the

very lowest of the people are well clad, and take a laudable pride in

appearing clean and smart after the toil of the day is over. The theatre

is the grand point of attraction for numbers; others assemble in reading

rooms, or attend lectures, or religious meetings; taverns and spirit

stores have their share of frequenters; while some few congregate to

read and hear read the wisdom of Thomas Paine, and his coadjutors in the

cause of infidelity. But, in justice it must be admitted, that very few

prostrate their time to this latter purpose.

None of those ostensible instances of deep moral degradation, the

wretched offspring of infamy and want, that force themselves, as it

were, upon our notice in our densely populated cities, are to be met

with here. Nor did I ever notice any of those extreme cases of abject

destitution--so painful to contemplate, but still so numerous with us.

In fact, during the whole period of my residence in the United States, I

never saw the face of a single beggar.

There are no poor’s rates, and the few whom misfortune has rendered

proper objects for eleemosynary aid, find refuge in alms-houses

supported by voluntary contributions.

The universal diffusion of knowledge is another pleasing object of

contemplation. Public schools are numerous and well supported; and as

almost the whole population to a man, are ardently engaged in the

promotion or pursuit of political schemes, of one kind or another, it

would be a remarkable circumstance were their children incapable of

reading the newspapers.

Another grand stimulant to exertion in educational matters, is to be

found in the acquisitive disposition of the people, and their love of

commercial enterprise. Stripling tradesmen are here to be met with in

numbers, pushing their various undertakings with all the ardour and

recklessness of youth, seconded by an hereditary thirst for gain. Hence,

from one cause or another, I conceive it would be a very difficult

matter to find in any part of the Union, a native-born American arrived

at years of maturity, incapable of writing and keeping his accounts.

It were much to be wished that the planters in the south, and other

slave-owners, would bestow some little care upon the instruction of

those unfortunate beings, that the chances of power have consigned to

their charge. Yet so far are they from encouraging even the commonest

kind of instruction, that were the “schoolmaster abroad” here, he would

be saluted with one clamourous war-whoop, throughout the whole of the

slave states of this land of liberty. The legislators of Virginia in

particular, have immortalized their humanity, by making it penal for any

one to teach a negro to read, or to be found aiding, encouraging, or

abetting in such an intellectual abomination!

Yet let me not be understood as speaking of the literature of the United

States, in terms of unqualified praise. All their literary characters,

who are considered clever by us, have reaped their laurels on British

ground. As for the rest I can say very little. A few novels, written in

the angels and despair style of Charlotte Smith, and two or three

volumes of poetry were all that I ever saw. They are good things in

their way--that is, good as opiates. I remember once to have been so

scolded for speaking disrespectfully of one of their poets, that if I

may be forgiven for the past I will do so no more.

But to resume the subject seriously, I think I am safe in asserting that

there is no literature in the United States--or at least very little of

sterling merit; whatever may be the pretensions of some. For surely the

“things of a day” poured from the periodical press, in the form of

newspapers and magazines cannot with propriety be called a nation’s

literature.

And here let me observe, that the newspaper press of England is as far

superior to that of the United States, as Scott’s historical novels are

to the romances of the last century. It is also worthy of remark, that

the American press is as far below the intellectual standard of their

people, as the London press is above that of ours. Intelligence like

money, with them is more equally distributed. The merchant and his clerk

are generally on a par with respect to mental culture, while the porter

in the warehouse is very few removes below either. On the other hand,

profound scholars and men of great opulence are equally rare; and the

nation may be said to be alike free from the influence of great

capitalists and extreme destitution.

There is something pleasingly simple and patriarchal in the management

of their rural affairs. The ploughing with oxen, and the use of these

animals in treading out corn, forcibly reminds us of the scenes and

usages in scripture history. The alacrity with which the natives combine

to assist a widow, a poor neighbour, or a stranger, deserves to be

recorded in terms of the highest commendation.

As an illustration of the above remark,--suppose a farmer, from some one

of the many causes of affliction to which all are liable, becomes

incapable of cultivating his land. His neighbours repair to his house by

appointment, with their oxen and implements; turn into his fields, and

plough, sow, and harrow every acre on his farm that requires these

operations. At the conclusion of their labours, they refresh themselves,

if their friend be able to make suitable provision for such a number; if

not, they return contentedly home, satisfied with the consciousness of

having performed a meritorious action.

If their united assistance be required in harvesting the crop, it is

cheerfully given; and he who ill-naturedly withholds his aid, subjects

himself to the eternal ban of the whole community. On one occasion of

this nature, I saw nineteen ploughs at work in one field. Nothing

displays the American character in so benevolent a point of view, as

this unity of co-operation in cheerfully assisting those, whom

misfortune has deprived of the power of assisting themselves.

That equivocal species of blessing, cheap law, is another of those

peculiarities that forcibly arrests the attention of strangers. The

lawyers are here a host, surpassing in number the military, naval, and

police forces united. They comprise men of all shades of talent and

character, from the very highest to, alas, the very, very lowest.

Doubtless, as with us, they look upon their clients as tradesmen do upon

their customers, as a source of profit and honourable competition. But

in a nation of obstinate sticklers for trifles, where almost every tenth

man is a lawyer, and where a cause may be tried for ten dollars, there

is reason to fear that sharpness is sometimes thrust a little beyond the

verge of honesty by some, despite the profession being gilded with the

flattering distinction of honourable.

But the practitioners are not entirely to be blamed--the principle is

objectionable. Should any desire to witness the developement of the

cheap law system, in all the glories of its confusion, he may behold it

here. Suits at law are perpetually throwing the peace of even rural

society into convulsions. Causes are tried and re-tried, till the

expences stop the current of litigation, which a wholesome view, at the

onset, of heavy costs in perspective, would have prevented from flowing.

Many of the small country justices or “squires” as they are here called,

are elected to the office, without any regard to their legal knowledge

or intellectual capabilities. The voice of party frequently raises these

Daniels to the judgement seat; and as they obtain a criminal bonus upon

every cause, their desire to promote litigation has never been called

into question. The consequence of all this is, that the law, from being

placed within the reach of every one, is become a powerful promoter of

discord, and actions are commenced to gratify the malevolence of some,

or the oppression of others, while hatred, malice, and uncharitableness

are the certain result.

American life · 第 5 / 6 章