VICTOR CHEVILLERE TO B. RANDOLPH.
"New-York, 18--.
"DEAR FRIEND,
"At length we have arrived in this flourishing city, not, however,
without having experienced many vicissitudes of weather, humour,
and adventure, the two latter especially; how could we help it,
when the Kentuckian formed so large a part of our little crew, by
steamboat and stage? His animal spirits are worth a million.
"You cannot conceive any thing more agreeable to an emancipated
and sombre student, than to get a comfortable high backed leather
seat in one of these fine northern coaches, his cloak collar put
up like a mask, and the rim of his cap drawn down to meet it, just
leaving a peeping-hole sufficient to see and enjoy every thing
worth enjoying, at the same time defying the gaze of intruding
eyes.
"If there should fortunately happen to be such a reckless, yet
generous spirit as Damon among the company, the student's
happiness is complete, for you cannot imagine what a protector he
is against intruders. In our American stage-coaches (and perhaps
in all others) there are sometimes men, full of brandy eloquence,
which is kept so constantly on the stretch by repeated libations;
or boisterous politicians, with their mouths so full of the last
importation of news from Washington, or of the contents of the
morning papers, that a complaisant young man is almost compelled
to make himself ridiculous, by getting into a political
controversy.
"Damon took all that sort of work off our hands, in the most
generous and chivalrous spirit imaginable. His eye was ever bright
and ready; there was no sinking into dull student-like lethargy
one moment, and flashing out into erratic folly the next; he was
ready with lance in rest, to take a tilt against anybody's
windmill; at home upon all subjects, being exactly in such a state
of refinement as not to be ashamed to show his ignorance, and
always eager to acquire information. Nor is his mind dull or
unapt; he will rebut or ridicule an adversary with astonishing
shrewdness. One of his peculiarities amused me much; he was
evidently more excited in the stage-coaches than in the boats. He
was never satisfied until he had let down the front glasses, so
that he could see the horses; then he would talk fluently to his
near neighbour, and keep his neck stretched all the while, so as
to have all the horses in view, throwing out occasional digressive
remarks as to their various powers, as thus, 'that's my little
hearty, make a straight back to it;' and then turning to his
antagonist he would continue his remarks, as if nothing had drawn
off his attention.
"But I must not take up all your time with our comic adventures.
When I get into that vein more completely, you shall have his
exploits in the city. By-the-by, I suggested to Lamar that he
should take that part of the correspondence off my hands, but he
said, 'Randolph knows I'm not one of the writing sort, therefore
you must write for us both; action,' said he, with a mock heroic
flourish, 'is my forte.'
"We are comfortably situated at the City Hotel in Broadway. After
we had selected our rooms, I sallied out into that gay and
brilliant promenade, which intersects the city from north-east to
south-west. You may there see, on a fine sunshiny afternoon, all
the fashion and beauty of this great city; the neat, tasteful,
Parisian costume, in close contrast with the more sober guise of
London. There you may hear intermingled the language of the Gaul,
the German, and the modern Roman. To the right and left you see
the spires of various Christian temples; and smiling faces, and
happy hearts, will greet you at every step.
"To a secluded college novice like myself, there is something new
and moving in all this life and bustle; it irresistibly brings to
my mind ideas of gay feats, tilts, tournaments, and brilliant
fairs. Within the finished bow-windows are wealth and splendour,
and brilliancy, which we poor southerns have not seen in our own
native land; marble buildings, stores with granite columns, and
the streets crowded with immense omnibuses (these are stages to
transport persons from one part of the city to another); splendid
private equipages, _republican_ liveries, and carts loaded with
merchandise.
"Seeing some trees and a comfortable green plat a little farther
up the street, I worked through the crowd of persons, and carts,
and stages, and found myself in the midst of the far famed Park,
and immediately in front of that proud edifice the City Hall. I
ascended the marble platform, and surveyed the gay throng, as they
moved on in one continued and dense current, with merry faces,
miserable hearts, and empty heads and pockets; but to talk of
these stale things, you know, in the present age, is all stuff and
sheer nonsense. I therefore put my reflections in my portfolio to
carry home with me, and proceeded to the house-keeper's room, as I
had been directed, to obtain the good lady's pilotage, or that of
some deputy, to the governor's room, which I readily found. There
is nothing remarkable in the two rooms which contain the
paintings, except that they command from the windows a fine view
of the park and the surrounding streets. Yes, there are two
venerable old stuffed chairs. The one in the north wing was used
by Washington at his inauguration as first President of the United
States, and the one in the east room by the elder Adams. There are
portraits of George Washington, George Clinton, Alexander
Hamilton, Commodore Bainbridge, Monroe, Jackson, Duane, Varick,
Livingston, Clinton, Willet, Radcliff, Captain Hull, Governor
Lewis, Macomb, Yates, Van Buren, Brown, Perry, La Fayette,
Decatur, Tompkins, Colden, Allen, Paulding, Hone, Stuyvesant,
Bolivar, Columbus, Monkton, Williams: some of these last are only
half-length. Over the portrait of Washington is a blue flag rolled
up, with the following inscription in golden letters:--'This
standard was displayed at the inauguration of George Washington,
first President of the United States, on the 30th day of April,
1789. And was presented to the Corporation of New-York by the
Second Regt. of N. Y. State Artillery, Nov. 25th, 1821.'
"While I was standing at one of the front windows again looking
over the moving masses of Broadway, I saw a lady approach on the
eastern footway of the Park, with a hurried step, until she came
nearly opposite to the Hall. Crossing Chatham, she turned abruptly
down one of the narrow streets running at right angles to the
eastern line of the Park. There was something in the figure and
carriage of this lady which, unknown at first to my consciousness,
quickened my pulsations; but when she approached to the nearest
point in her course, I felt morally certain that it was none other
than that mysterious charmer, who by her father's connivance, or
rather management, slipped through my fingers at Baltimore, and
that, too, without my even having asked her address in this city.
The recollection of this latter circumstance prompted me instantly
to seize my hat and hurry after her. Throwing the accustomed fee
to my obliging pilotess, I walked with all possible haste to the
corner of the street which I supposed she had taken. I found that
a little crowd of ragged urchins had collected upon some occasion
of their own, and asked the most intelligent-looking among them if
he had seen a lady in black go down that street,--pointing down
the hill from Tammany Hall; and, by way of reply, one of the most
disgusting, discordant, and ill-timed peals of laughter that I
ever heard burst upon my senses.
"'Lady in black!' said the most forward fellow, 'you will find
plenty of black ladies down that street, with black eyes to boot.'
I retreated in perfect disgust with these precocious vagabonds,
not, however, before I was saluted with another peal of laughter,
accompanied by the epithets--'greenhorn,' 'young 'un,' 'bumpkin,'
&c. &c.
"You cannot conceive of any more thoroughly disgusting feeling
than that produced upon the mind of a young man bred up in the
country, upon this first exhibition of the detestable forms which
vice and dissipation assume in every large city,--young females
with bloated countenances,--boys with _black_ eyes and bruised
faces, with their disgusting slang and familiar nicknames, of Sal,
Bet, Kate, Tom, Josh, Jack, or Jim, and their unmeaning oaths,
Billingsgate wit, and filthy and ragged garments. There are
certain districts of the city in which these are always to be
seen, I am informed,--but of these more anon. I turned down the
street, and pursued the course which I supposed the lady had
taken, until I got to the bottom of what had once been a deep glen
in its rural days. I could see nothing but entrances to tanyards,
and warehouses full of leather and morocco. The houses, too,
looked at least a century and a half behind those on the hill, in
architectural taste. Turning to a woman who was sweeping the
little narrow pavement in front of one of the houses, I asked her
what part of the city I was in.
"'This is called the _swamp_, sir,' was the reply.
"'This,' thought I to myself, 'is a very different affair from our
swamps.' Just at that moment, casting my eye along one of the
narrow streets, I caught a glimpse of the same figure, attended
only by her maid, entering a low, Dutch, dingy-looking house, with
the gable end to the street. I walked as rapidly as I could in the
same direction, and was within some twenty yards of the house,
when two young men issued from the door, with the air and dress of
gentlemen. I did not immediately observe their faces, because my
mind was intently occupied with the lady, and the probable cause
of her visit to such a strange part of the city. These reflections
were suddenly interrupted by some one slapping me on the back, and
exclaiming in my ear, 'Ha! my Chevillere! you here! how do you do?
what brought you here?' but I am resolved to put your curiosity to
a serious test; names in my next. Yours, truly,
"V. CHEVILLERE."