to leave any thing to be done by another which he can reasonably do
for himself; and never to defer any arrangement which had better be
made over night, in the expectation that all will go smoothly in the
morning, unless of course he have with him a confidential European
servant. With ordinary care there is not much fear of losing any
thing by theft; but the Yankees are often as careless of the property
of others, as they are careful of their own. Above all things, let
him, as “Bob Short” has it, “be sure to keep his temper.” Anger is
of not the slightest use, and a man may as well be out of humour
with his mantelpiece, as with a Yankee. Independence is visible in
the countenance both of the Englishman and the American: but in the
one, it is stamped as it should be on the forehead; with the other,
it is more often entwined in the curl of the nether lip. Never take
the corner inside a coach on a rainy day, you’ll be wet to the skin:
carefully avoid comparison between any thing that is American, and any
thing that is European, particularly if it should be English. I have
several times received a friendly caution from Americans themselves on
this head. There are liberal minded men in the States who will talk
like gentlemen on every subject; but I believe there is nothing unjust
in the remark that jealousy of England and English arts, and English
improvements, and English manufactures, may be reasonably classed as
the most prominent of their national failings,—and that out of what may
be designated as steam-boat acquaintance, there are not fifty men, from
Maine to Louisiana, who can listen to such a comparison without biting
their lips.
I left Boston, as I did Baltimore with regret, and proceeded to
Providence, the capital of Rhode Island. In the way, I passed through
Pawtucket, a very considerable manufacturing town on the banks of the
Blackstone river.
Providence contains nearly 20,000 inhabitants, several manufactures,
and some exceedingly good private houses. In the neighbourhood, by the
assistance of a friend, I procured some excellent woodcock shooting.
Upon my return, I chanced to be standing with my gun in my hand near
the bar of the inn, when a very decent looking American cooly removed
a cigar from his mouth, and most civilly addressed me with, “Well,
stranger! how do you prosper in gunning?”
At Providence I embarked for New York in the splendid steam-boat,
the President, passing by Newport, a large and populous place, much
resorted to on account of the sea breeze, which is said to be cool
and refreshing during the greatest heats of summer. The Providence
river is one of the finest harbours in the Northern States, and the
best station for ships of war; as a junction could be effected with a
fleet from the Chesapeake in less than forty hours, with the same wind
that would be adverse to a ship sailing from Boston harbour, and would
perhaps prevent a junction in less than ten days: the next morning I
found myself once more at New York—standing just where it did when I
first left it; and after the lapse of a day, I embarked in a steam-boat
to proceed up the North or Hudson’s river. The extreme rapidity with
which we were hurried through the water soon carried me into the
midst of the most superb river scenery I had yet beheld in America.
I congratulate myself upon having deferred this excursion to the end
of my tour instead of seeing it at first, and would recommend every
traveller to do the same, because all that will be seen afterwards of
the same description will probably lose by a comparison. The western
bank soon presents a perpendicular of trap-rock, so denominated on
account of its basaltic formations and general appearance, “the
palisades,” continuing for nearly twenty miles along the river, and
forming a natural wall or precipice, which varies from twenty feet to
500 feet in height, nor is the elevation sensibly diminished by the
great width of the stream. On the east or opposite bank, at a distance
of twenty-five miles from New York, my attention was excited by the
beautiful situation of a small village embosomed in woods and still
farther concealed by a projecting headland. Upon inquiry I found it
was Tarrytown, where Major Andrè was made prisoner, and its appearance
immediately became doubly interesting. Whether he was or was not a
spy, cannot, I think, be determined without an answer to the inquiry,
“suppose he had succeeded?”—but whether the cause of freedom would have
thriven the worse for the generous dismissal of a noble-minded enemy,
or whether the memory of Washington would have descended to posterity
the less untarnished in consequence of such an action, are questions
which are still less problematical. Major Andrè was executed at Tappan,
on the other side of the river, standing on the boundary line between
the states of New York and New Jersey.
The penitentiary at Sing Sing, is the next object of attraction; it is
built by the convicts themselves, in the shape of a rectangle, 40 feet
by 480. The system of solitary confinement adopted there, is the same
as that of Auburn in the western part of the state of New York. The
prisoners are confined separately, and are brought out to work together
in the lime-stone quarries immediately adjoining the prison, but are
never allowed to utter a syllable to each other. It would appear that
under all circumstances this system is not more likely to prevent
crime, than that which is pursued in Philadelphia; and on the other
hand, with regard to the reformation of a prisoner in after life, I
should humbly conceive the latter mode to be preferable; because as
one prisoner is never seen by another, it is very clear he cannot be
recognized, but can commence a new life without risking a sneer from a
former companion in confinement.
I had lately enjoyed the agreeable society of two French gentlemen,
who were travelling for the French government, with instructions to
visit the different prisons in the United States in which the system of
solitary confinement was adopted, with a view of ascertaining whether
it was practicable in France. They informed me, that as far as they
had seen, they were of opinion that the system could be adopted, were
it not for the expense to be incurred in those alterations which would
be necessary. A criminal condemned to imprisonment in France is turned
in amongst a number of other persons, is fed during the period of his
detention, and comes out of the prison just as he entered it.
We soon came in sight of Westpoint, at the commencement of “the
Highlands,” and the most beautiful part of the river. This spot was
selected in the year 1802, as the site of the military college of the
United States. The buildings connected with the establishment are
situated on a small plain, elevated about 160 feet above the surface
of the river. The venerable ruins of Fort Portnam, are conspicuously
perched upon an eminence 440 feet higher; but the ascent is still
continued behind them. The whole of the ground belongs to government,
the immediate vicinity of the college being within the jurisdiction of
the courts of the United States.
The dress and appearance of the cadets is extremely neat; consisting
of a slightly braided jacket, and trowsers of grey cloth: their
number is about two hundred and sixty. The academic staff is composed
of thirty-three officers, and gentlemen who act as professors and
assistant professors. The cadets are instructed in almost every
branch of science, but in no language, excepting French. They are
publicly examined every year, in the presence of fifteen visiters,
who are invited to attend, and have an allowance made them for their
travelling expenses. Amongst other places, I visited the drawing
academy, and another apartment, in which were several cadets studying
fortification. When there, I could not avoid remarking that on one of
the tables, by the side of the drawing utensils, lay a half demolished
roll of tobacco. The disgusting habit of chewing tobacco is common
in every part of America; even the men in the upper classes are not
entirely free from it: but it surely might be discontinued (by express
prohibition, if necessary) by the officers and cadets of the most
gentlemanly establishment in the Union, and against which, laughable
as it may appear, objections have been raised on account of the
aristocratical ideas which the young men bring with them into society.
The annual expenses of each cadet, do not exceed three hundred and
fifty dollars. He is examined at the expiration of four years: if he
does not pass, he is allowed another year of grace. There are usually
on the average about a hundred candidates for admission on the list,
and about thirty are annually accepted: a preference being given to
the sons of revolutionary officers, or of those who served in the last
war. Out of the whole number admitted, I was informed that more than
half of them leave the college from incapacity, disorderly behaviour,
or other reasons, before their time has expired; and that about
one-fourth of them usually take their leave within a year after the
commencement of their studies. Every cadet must have attained the age
of fourteen before admittance, and is originally intended for the army;
but in the event of his not getting a commission, the education he
has received, amidst the present and universal confusion of rail-roads
and water-powers, will ensure him three dollars a day for his services
as a civil engineer. The cadets form on parade every day at one hour
before sunset, and have a very soldier-like appearance, occasionally
practising the guns at a target on the opposite side of the river.
The band, towards the maintenance of which each cadet contributes
twenty-five cents a month, is said to be the best in the States. If a
young man does not distinguish himself, he will probably remain in the
ranks of the cadet corps during the four years of his probation; but if
he display more than ordinary abilities, he may become a corporal after
the first, and a sergeant after the second year; and may subsequently
get his commission as second lieutenant in the army.
Kosciusko served in the American ranks during the war of Independence.
His cenotaph is a very conspicuous object at Westpoint; and at a
picturesque spot which he is said to have frequented, and is known by
the name of Kosciusko’s Garden: a small fountain, regarded at this time
with peculiar reverence, bubbles up through a plain marble slab, and
trickles over the letters of his name, as if it wept its all to his
memory.
Cannon are cast at the foundry on the east side of the river, nearly
opposite to Westpoint. On that side also, a mile or two below, is
the house which was occupied by Arnold when he was carrying on his
traitorous correspondence with the British officers. The spot where he
held his conference with Major Andrè, is overshadowed by a small grove
of trees, easily distinguished by their superior height. I understood,
at Westpoint, that General La Fayette during his visit in 1824, had
said he was dining with Arnold, when he received from Major Andrè the
letter which informed him of his capture, and that Arnold immediately
made some excuse for leaving the table, and escaped, as is well known,
by running down a very steep bank, and ordering some boatmen to row him
to the British sloop of war which brought Major Andrè, and was then
lying in the river awaiting his return.
The American musquet carries but eighteen balls to the pound. The
charge of powder is also proportionably less. A general officer who
served in the last war, informed me that having observed the shoulders
of the British prisoners, he frequently found them black for a month
after their capture; and not being satisfied with the smallness of the
charge of powder which had been already diminished by an order from the
American head-quarters, he himself, then a colonel, went round to every
man in his regiment, previously to an engagement, to see that it was
still further reduced according to his own order. The men were thus
convinced of the necessity of reserving their fire, and of taking a
steady aim, so that, perhaps, one shot in ten took effect, instead of
one in sixty; the number usually allowed in European warfare. He also
informed me, that during the obscurity of the night, and the confusion
which took place at the battle of Lundy’s-lane, he observed a regiment
forming on his flank, and being unable to discern immediately whether
they were British or Americans, he jumped upon the top of a fence for
a better view, and immediately became a mark for a volley of British
musquetry, of which every shot passed over his head. This no doubt was
partly caused by the old method of “making ready;” in consequence of
which the musquet was frequently discharged before it was brought to
the shoulder, from the perpendicular position in which it was held. The
British troops suffered more severely than they otherwise would have
done on account of the colour of their uniforms, the least portion of
which so easily exposed them to the rifle of the back-woods man.
Soon after quitting Westpoint we passed the town of Newburg, leaving
the Catskill mountains on our left. I did not visit the hotel at the
top of them, as the season was too far advanced, and everybody had left
it. The view from it is said to be, and must be, magnificent. We then
arrived at Albany, which has been for thirty years the capital of the
state of New York; it is a handsome and thriving city, containing about
20,000 inhabitants.
Every traveller should contrive to be at Albany on Sunday morning, in
order that he may proceed to Shaker’s town, about eight miles distant,
and attend the public worship of the sect. At Lebanon, in the same
state, there is a larger establishment, but it is more out of the way.
Their mode of worship is certainly the most extraordinary that is
adopted in any Christian community. About fifty men and fifty women
were arranged _en masse_ with their faces towards each other, and
with an intervening space of about ten feet. The service commenced by
an elder coming forward between them, and delivering a few words of
exhortation. Several others followed his example at intervals during
the service; one, more eloquent than the rest, who was descanting on
the proper government of the passions and the abuse of talent, thought
fit to illustrate his argument by a quotation from Gay’s fable of
“The Grecian youth of talents rare.” Hymns were then sung by them in
their places, each of them shaking the whole time. They then performed
a regular dance, holding hands, advancing and retiring, to a most
uproarious tune, sung by a few of them formed in a small circle, who
gave the words and the tune to the others as they afterwards paraded
in pairs around the room, singing very loudly the whole time—hopping
heavily, first on one foot, then on the other—flapping their hands
the whole time before them, with their elbows stuck into their sides,
and looking for all the world like so many penguins in procession.
It was not till the end of the service that they all fairly fell on
their knees, and sung a hymn, as if they were asking pardon for their
vagaries.
I really think I had never seen such a curious collection of heads
and features: the chin and lower part of the face were generally very
small, giving to some an appearance that was perfectly idiotic, whilst
others displayed a more subdued modification of that wildness of gaze
which might have distinguished the fanatic companions of Balfour o’
Burley: but there was scarcely one among them, either male or female,
whose features were not remarkable on one account or other.
From Albany I proceeded to Schenectady, in the rail-road carriage,
which whirled me forward with a rapidity very little inferior to
that with which I had been carried between Liverpool and Manchester,
but by no means so silently or so smoothly, as the rattling was very
loud. Thence I went to Utica, a town that at present contains 10,000
inhabitants, but intends at some future period to be the capital of
the state of New York. Its pretensions are founded on its present
prosperity, arising from the Erie canal, which passes through it in its
way from Albany to lake Erie, its central situation, and the gradual
westward movement of the surplus population of the more eastern cities.
From Utica I visited the Trenton falls, fifteen miles distant. I was
very much disappointed: there was not much water in them, and they
appeared more like artificial cascades than a natural cataract. The
trout fishing in the West Canada creek, on which they are situated,
is, I conceive, the best recommendation for a visit to the Trenton
falls. Possibly Niagara had spoiled me for every waterfall. It is, I
think, the author of the “Diary of an Invalid,” who remarks that having
seen St. Peter’s, he should be contented with his parish church ever
afterwards. I thence proceeded to Saratoga, the Cheltenham of America:
but the company which throng to it from all parts of the Union, being
its only attraction, and the season being over, I passed through it
without stopping there more than an hour. The vicinity of Ballston
Springs, which are near it, are much prettier. The waters of both are
saline and chalybeate at the same time. The guide books are so filled
with accounts of the marches, counter marches, successes, distresses,
and final surrender of General Burgoyne, that I make no apology for
merely remarking, that he surrendered to the American General Gates
at Schuylersville in the county of Saratoga on the 17th of October,
1777. From Saratoga, I proceeded to Lake George, passing by Glen’s
falls, so admirably described in Mr. Cooper’s novel of the Last of
the Mohicans. Unfortunately for me the steam-boat on the lake was laid
up in ordinary, and I was obliged to content myself with a ride for
a few miles along the banks. As far as I could judge, I thought the
scenery equal to that of the finest of British lakes, generally, with
the exception of Loch-Lomond. It is thirty-six miles long; but it has
no where the majestic breadth of the famed Scottish lake. Its mountains
are not so lofty as Ben Lomond, and it has not the weeping birch of the
highlands of Scotland, or the arbutus of the lakes of Killarney; but it
can boast of an unrivalled clearness of water, a most delicious perfume
from the gum cistus (vulgo, sweet fern) which grows abundantly on its
margin; and the autumnal foliage reflected on its surface is certainly
far more beautiful and brilliant than any thing of the kind that Great
Britain can display. Cultivation was to be seen in many parts; but
there were no splendid country seats, and the majestic beauty of this
lovely lake must be contented to remain destitute of those unrivalled
ornaments, so long as democracy holds sway over the mountains that
surround it.
At the head of the lake stands the village of Caldwell, and near it
are the ruins of Fort George and Fort William. It would far exceed the
limits of this work, were I to take notice of the numerous battles
that have been fought during the last eighty years in the vicinity of
Lake George; for an account of the massacre that took place after the
surrender of Fort William-Henry, by Major Monroe, to the French troops
under the command of the Marquis of Montcalm in 1757, I will again with
pleasure refer you to the “Last of the Mohicans.”
I should mention that there is excellent bass fishing in the lake, and
that all necessary information &c. may be obtained at the lake tavern
at Caldwell. The bass is taken with a spinning minnow, and when hooked
affords for a short time, even more sport than a salmon; but is much
sooner exhausted.
Sandy Hill was my next destination. In my way, I passed over the ground
where General Burgoyne surrendered, and in a few hours again entered a
steam-boat, at Albany, with the intention of returning, for the last
time, to New York.
Before I went to America, I had no idea in how short a time a meal
could be dispatched; but to see “bolting” in perfection, it is
necessary to go on board an Albany steam-boat. The cabin is cleared as
much as possible, the breakfast is laid, and the free negro stewards
are placed as guards at the top of the stair-case, to prevent any
gentleman from walking in before the bell rings. As the hour draws
near, conversation is gradually suspended, and the company look as if
they were all thinking of the same subject. Groups of lank thin-jawed
personages may be seen “progressing” towards the door, and “locating”
themselves around it, in expectation of the approaching rush, listening
to the repeated assurances of the black stewards within, that no
gentleman can by any possibility be admitted before the time. At length
the bell rings, and the negro guards escape as they can; if they are
not brisk in their motions, they stand a chance of being sent headlong
down stairs, or jammed in between the wall and the opened doors.
In less than a quarter of a minute, 150 or 200 persons have seated
themselves at table, and an excellent breakfast of tea, coffee, eggs,
beefsteaks, hot rolls, corn cakes, salted mackerel, mush, molasses,
&c. is demolished in an incredibly short space of time. The crowd then
slowly re-ascends the staircase—and three-fourths of them are quite
surprised that they should be afflicted with dyspepsia! The music which
usually accompanied the feasts of the ancients, will never be revived
by the Americans who are more likely to exclaim in the beautiful
language of Euripides,
Σκαιοὺς δε λεγων, κοὺδὲν τι σοφοὺς,
Τοὺς προσθε βροτους, ουκ ἄν ἁμάρτοις,
Οἵτινες ὕμνους επὶ μὲν θαλίαις,
Επὶ τ’ εἰλαπίναις, καὶ παρὰ δείπνοις
Εὕροντο, βίου τερπνὰς ακοάς.
* * * * *
ἵνα δ εὔδειπνοι
Δαῖτες, τι μάτην τείνουσι βοάν
Τὸ παρὸν γαρ ἔχει τέρψιν ὰφ’ αυτοῦ
Δαιτὸς πλήρωμα βροτοῖσιν.
* * * * *
Whilst I remained at New York, I employed my time in visiting the
dock-yard, the race-ground on Long Island, and other places which I
had left unseen. The race-ground is inclosed with a high paling, and
although well kept, is not on so large a scale as might be expected.
The Americans believed that their horse, Eclipse, was faster than his
celebrated English ancestor, till a paper appeared in their Sporting
Magazine, proving that had they run together, their horse, which is
undoubtedly a very good one, particularly up hill, would have been
thoroughly beaten. They have a mare, named, I believe, Arietta, which
is said to be exceedingly fast for a mile, and is coming to England, to
try her speed at Newmarket.
The Americans boast that they are able to raise an army of cavalry
at a moment’s notice; and they refer you to the backwoods, and tell
you that a boy can ride almost as soon as he can walk. This is true
enough of their riding to plough, or to church, or along the road;
but I do not remember to have seen a horse take a leap in the United
States but once,—and he had no rider on his back. It is very rarely
that an American is seen with a good seat on horseback. I should say,
generally, that the Americans were bad riders, excepting the New
Yorkers,—and they are Americans. I think _they_ are the worst I
ever saw. They have neither a military seat nor a fox-hunting seat, nor
a Turkish seat, nor even what Geoffrey Gambado would term “the mistaken
notion;” but they ride up and down the Broadway with the toe almost
invariably very much below the heel; and the back and shoulders, like
the “genteel and agreeable” of the same author, of course inclined
forward: at the same time it must be confessed, that as they have
neither cavalry nor fox-hunting, it is not surprising that they cannot
ride.