_Sunday, December 1st._--A little cloudy, but mild and pleasant. We have
up to this date no severe weather; and, indeed, with the exception of
now and then a day not colder than some which we experienced in
September, have had no remembrancer of the approach of frost: but I
fancy old father Winter "'bides his time," and will not spare us when
his icy wings are once loosed upon the north-east wind.
Rode to German Town, and down the ravine of the Wisihissing. A stranger,
looking over the continuous level which is presented to his view on a
first glance at the country surrounding Philadelphia, has many pleasant
surprises in store, if he be of an errant habit and much given to
exploration; since there are several ravines of singular wildness in
this vicinity, having bridle-paths connecting them with the different
roads, and a great deal of broken country, whose variety well repays the
adventurous equestrian.
This is a mode of proceeding I would counsel every traveller to follow
who desires to become well acquainted with the general character of a
country, as but little of this can be known from a hasty drive along the
common line of road. Never let the idea of being badly mounted deter a
man from this experiment; but let him send for the best hack that the
place may afford, or, what is a better plan, go and see after one.
In America, although all the nags thus procured may not prove the
smoothest goers in the world, they will uniformly be found strong and
well up to their work. Only let the stranger acquire the habit of
getting into saddle with promptitude on arriving at a strange place, and
more may be seen of its neighbourhood, and known of its condition, by
this means, in a morning foray or two, than a month of idling will
compass.
_Saturday, 14th._--Back again to Baltimore to act in Front-street the
same night.
A clear cold morning until about midday, when it became overcast, with
some rain and wind, which, just as we cleared the Elk river, was
exchanged for snow. Not an inch of our way did we see after this: the
boat was frequently stopped, and soundings carefully made; our speed
was reduced to the slowest possible pace, and every precaution taken
that prudence could suggest to the experience of our captain. Night came
on, however, and we had the pleasant prospect of passing it in the bay
of the Chesapeake, or on one of the shoals, or shores, about us, when
happily our look-out got a momentary glimpse of Fort M'Henry, which we
were about to pass to the southward. Had we done so, we must in a short
time have grounded in the Patapsco, there to rest for the coming clear
weather: as it was, a short time saw us snug in harbour, although we
could hardly see ourselves when we got there.
I was too late for Front-street, a circumstance which I did not regret,
remembering its situation and the state of the weather, but consoled
myself readily over a canvass-back duck and a tumbler of
Monongahela,--when old, equal, if mixed with hot water, even to
Innishtowen; at least I remember I thought so on this occasion.
Retired early to my room, intending to read for an hour, having observed
a cheery-looking fire in it whilst changing my wet things. It was
exceedingly cold without; the snow fell thick, and the sight of a grate
full of cinders, glowing like lumps of iron at red heat, was especially
enlivening. I sat down to read, but in a few minutes found my eyes
become strangely dim: after a vain attempt to clear them by ablution, I
resigned my book, gave way to the headache and weariness, which grew
worse every minute, and got into my bed, concluding these unpleasant
symptoms were occasioned by previous cold and exposure to the weather.
I lay down, but to rest was impossible; my temples throbbed, the veins
became swollen and tense, whilst my breathing grew short and difficult:
getting at last a little alarmed, and, indeed, fearing a fainting fit, I
rose to ring for my servant; but not finding the bell, opened my
chamber-door with the intention of seeking some assistance.
I had not proceeded many steps down the passage before I felt my illness
abate, in a manner quite as sudden and strange as its advance had been;
my sight became clear, my pulse grew regular, my breathing natural; and
after a momentary pause, almost of doubt at this rapid restoration to
health and ease, I retraced my steps to my chamber, feeling glad that I
had not communicated a false alarm in a house where two or three sudden
deaths, from what was called cholera, had already predisposed the
inmates to be nervous.
On re-entering my room, the cause of my late symptoms became manifest in
the first breath I inhaled of the atmosphere; even as it now was,
comparatively purified by a current of fresh air, the gaseous smell
continued disagreeable and distressing.
I sent for the fireman of the hotel,--that is, the person so called who
lights and looks after the hundred fires going in one of these
establishments: he was a countryman and a staunch personal friend; and,
after hearing my story and removing the anthracite coal, he pledged
himself never to burn anything but wood in my chamber for the time to
come.
I next questioned my friend as to whether he had ever before known any
person as severely affected from the same cause. He said he had heard
gentlemen complain now and again, "But the cowld soon makes them get
used to it," said Pat; adding, that most persons left a little of the
window open if the weather permitted.
This was my first and last experiment with this coal, which is
nevertheless burned almost universally in the north, though they have
abundance of fine Nova Scotia coal, that appears little inferior to the
best Lancashire. Liverpool coal is a good deal used in New York; but the
ladies give the preference uniformly to the anthracite, which does not
yield much dust or black smoke, and consequently preserves for a longer
period both furniture and dress: it also renders a room quickly and
equally warm without requiring attendance, when once lighted, burning
constantly with a red heat, and fiercely or otherwise in proportion to
the draft, which all the stoves here permit to be regulated at will.
Nevertheless, I think all its advantages are nothing when weighed
against the injurious effect the atmosphere it generates must have upon
the health of those constantly within its influence.
It may, with great advantage, be used for hall-stoves, for heating
air-pipes, or in situations where there is a ready circulation of air;
but ought not, I think, to be continued in the drawing-rooms of families
or in the chambers of the studious.
_Sunday, 15th._--The snow lying about a foot deep in the streets, but in
places drifted to a great height: numbers of make-shift sleighs already
jingling about the town, Baltimore having precedence of the northern
cities this year in an amusement not often enjoyed here.
I had a trial of the sleigh for a couple of hours; and in company with a
fat friend was bumped over the gutters through the soft snow,--for on it
we could not be said to ride,--whilst every inequality of the streets
was made evident to our bones.
This is a species of amusement into which the Northerns enter with a
spirit of positive enthusiasm: man, woman, and child all talk of, and
look forward to, the arrival of sleighing-time as a season of the
highest festivity. In New York, I am told, the first heavy fall of snow
brings even business to a stand-still, and the whole population is seen
whirling over the streets in every description of vehicle that can be
lifted off its wheels and lodged upon runners.
The regular fancy sleighs I have frequently examined: they are
tastefully and comfortably built, and fitted up with all sorts of
furs,--skins of bear and buffalo, and various other beasts; are lined
and betasseled in a way that renders them quite beautiful; and might
defy the recognition of their nearest of kin.
_18th._--The snow has vanished wholly, and the weather is again mild as
spring: the Southerners yet lingering here upon the confines of the
north are, however, alarmed by this early demonstration of the absence
of winter so far south, and daily set off for their yet sunny abodes in
Georgia, the Carolinas, Alabama, or Louisiana.
Our excellent table is gradually thinning off; and King David's labour,
as grand carver, is daily abridged. We this day had a haunch of Virginia
venison, with fat an inch and half deep, the flavour equal to anything I
ever ate: it is the first fat venison I have seen in the country.
Canvass-back still in abundance, and not to be wearied of. This, I find,
is the true place to eat these rare birds: their case is well understood
here, and they are treated to a nicety.
_Saturday, 21st._--Back to Philadelphia, on my way to New York--will
pass this night in the City of Squares, and Sunday--the day positively
warm; observed, however, a thin flaking of ice stealing over the shaded
surface of the Elk river.
_Monday, 23rd._--Once more in New York, _via_ the Delaware and Raritan.
Although on Sunday it was feared that these rivers would be closed with
ice, we had only a little coating of Jack Frost to break through,
suffering no detention, and found the bay perfectly free; arriving here
about three o'clock.
_27th._--Walked to the top of Broadway, which has lost much of its
crowd, but is yet quite bustling enough to be a very lively and pleasant
lounge.
Went into the Episcopalian church near the Park, the graves of
Montgomery and Emmett being the chief attraction: the monuments erected
to their memories stand outside, close upon the street. Just as I turned
out of the gate, after having read the inscription upon the monument of
the latter, I was joined by R----t, who gave me an interesting account
of the last meeting of the devoted brothers.
Thomas Emmett being at Rotterdam, after his release from Fort George, on
his way to the United States, chanced to be in waiting for his letters
at the post-office, when a man stepping from the crowd threw himself
into his arms with exclamations of glad recognition: it was his brother
Robert, just arrived from Paris, and attending here on a like errand.
"And from whence come you?" demanded Robert, the first congratulations
being past.
"Just escaped from poor Ireland," replied the senior brother; adding,
"and whither are you now bound?"
"Just escaping to poor Ireland," was the reply.
The meeting was a short one; Robert would listen to no word of
accompanying his family in their exile. He declared his only desire was
either to procure for his country even justice, and freedom from neglect
and oppression, or for himself a grave, and oblivion of her people's
sufferings and degradation.
The brothers parted here, never again to meet. Robert quickly found the
fate he courted, and sleeps beneath the soil he died for,--mistakingly
it may be, but neither unwept, unpitied, nor unsung.
The senior pursued his more prudent course, and landed with his wife and
children in this city, unknown, and having slight recommendation beyond
his misfortunes and his country; these, however, proved all-sufficient
to procure for him the sympathy and respect of the citizens from whom he
sought adoption. He rested amongst them, became one of them, and lived
to see his children standing with the best and most esteemed of the
country.
In the fulness of his honours Thomas Addis Emmett died, and on the most
conspicuous part of Broadway stands the obelisk of marble reared in
honour of his memory, and bearing testimony to the high talent and the
many virtues of the Irish exile, the banished rebel, or the unsuccessful
patriot; for the terms are yet unhappily considered by some as
synonymous, and may be selected by each according to his political
creed. By his family and associates, however, he appears to have been
truly beloved, and by all men to have been viewed as an upright citizen
and a most able counsel; his eloquence at the bar being still the theme
of frequent enthusiastic eulogium.
This night went to a dance at the hospitable house of Mr. C----ne, the
first occasion which afforded me a view of the New York belles in
society. The party was not large, but there were several very pretty
women, and waltzing and music alternated in charming succession: there
were two ladies who sang with infinite taste and sweetness, and we kept
it up until rather a late hour for a sober country. My impression of the
New York women is, that they are frank, lively, and intelligent, with
much gentleness in their manners and address: in short, that these were
very amiable and attractive specimens of their sex and country.
_20th._--Went to look over the Opera-house, which has been built here
very suddenly by subscription. It is about the size of the Lyceum;
arranged after the French fashion, having stalls, a _parterre_, and
_balcon_ below; and above, two circles of private boxes, the property of
subscribers. Some of these are fitted up in a style of extravagance I
never saw attempted elsewhere. There has been a sort of rivalry
exercised on this head, and it has been pursued with that regardlessness
of cost which distinguishes a trading community where their _amour
propre_ is in question.
Silk velvets, damask, and gilt furniture form the material within many;
and, as the parties consult only their own taste, the colours of these
are various as their proprietors' fancies. I do not find the _ensemble_
bad, however; whilst the shape and mounting of the _salle_ are both
unexceptionable.
This effort, however creditable to the good taste of the city, is
premature, and must be doomed to more failures than one before it
permanently succeeds. A refined taste for the best kind of music is not
consequent upon the erection of an opera-house, nor is it a feeling to
be created at will. Even in the metropolis of England, with a capital so
disproportionate, and possessing such superior facilities for the
attainment of novelty, did the continuance of this refined amusement
depend solely upon the love of good music, it would quickly die, if not
be forgotten.
From time to time, a small, but efficient and really good Italian troop,
will, beyond doubt, find liberal encouragement in the great northern
cities, and also in New Orleans, provided they make a short stay in
each; but, rapidly as events progress here, I will undertake to predict
that a century must elapse before even New York can sustain a permanent
operatic establishment.