Streets of New York: Drunkenness: Prostitution: Lotteries:
Hospitality: Bankruptcy: Women and young girls: Luxury: Hotels:
Police: Anecdote: number of passengers arriving at New York from
1818 till 1819.
On returning from our voyage up the Hudson, general Lafayette expressed
his desire to enjoy the calm of private life, that he might consecrate
some moments to the kind intimacy which a great number of his old
friends demanded. In consequence public entertainments were suspended,
the citizens resumed their usual occupations; and I had leisure to
examine with advantage the customs and physiognomy of the people of this
great city, which until now I had only beheld in gala dress.
My first excursion had naturally for object to visit the whole length of
Broadway, which is the bazar of American industry, as it is of the
productions of all the world. Its length of about three miles, the width
of the side walks, solidly constructed and flagged with broad stones,
the elegance of the buildings, the richness and variety of its stores,
and the ever active crowd by which it is enlivened, makes this beautiful
street, one of the most interesting objects for the traveller, who has
time for observation. A single circumstance renders it unpleasant, in my
opinion, which is that the immense grave yard of Trinity church is
separated from the streets by nothing but an iron railing. This view
contrasts in a painful manner with the gay groups of young ladies,
continually passing lightly along by this sad receptacle of the dead. I
am astonished that the wisdom of the corporation of New York, which has
done so much for the improvement and health of the city, has not yet
thought of removing this focus of putrid exhalations, which in some
seasons of the year may become fatal to the whole population.[16]
The greater number of the streets which open into Broadway, are also
very clean and regular; but those running in the vicinity of the wharves
are commonly disagreeable enough. There are a great many dirty and badly
built frame houses, which serve as retreats for drunkenness and
debauchery. Drunkenness produces frightful ravages, and annually plunges
a great number of victims into the prisons and hospitals. A vast number
of crimes and diseases have no other cause. The extreme facility with
which the poorest wretches acquire money, the low price of spirituous
liquors, which pay no duty, and perhaps also the excessive heat of the
climate, are without doubt the principal causes of this disgusting
passion. It is said that New York contains more than three thousand
grog-shops, in which are annually retailed at least three millions of
dollars worth of wine and strong liquors. This appears a frightful
amount when compared with that of the population.
Prostitution is less common here than one would suppose, in a large
commercial city constantly thronged with strangers and sailors. There
are not more than three thousand public women, which is scarcely a
sixtieth part of the population. This would be a very small proportion
for Paris, and especially for London, where these unfortunates commonly
form a twentieth of the population. If we seek for the causes of this
great difference, it will be found principally in the early and frequent
marriages of the inhabitants. Men usually marry here, from the age of
twenty to twenty-five, and the women from sixteen to twenty. Moreover
the marriageable age is not determined by law, neither is there any law
by which parents are authorized to prevent the marriages of their
children. The religious ceremony alone constitutes the act of marriage,
and difference of sect never prevents a minister of another persuasion
from bestowing the nuptial benediction upon those who ask it of him.
Always sure of obtaining the means of support for himself and companion,
the young American is never deterred by considerations of fortune to
determine his choice which is almost always according to his feelings.
Hence there are fewer single men in society, and consequently fewer
causes of corruption. A third scourge more terrible than drunkenness or
prostitution, extends its ravages through the city of New York, and
daily taints the public morals: I wish to speak of those bottomless
gulfs, which swallow indiscriminately the wealth of the rich merchant,
and the savings of the poor labourer: which are the wreck of so many
long-tried good characters, and which in exchange for the money which is
paid them, make no other return but disgrace and misery—In short I mean
the LOTTERY OFFICES.
The laws of the state of New York forbid the establishment of new
lotteries, but the legislature have thought it right to respect those
already existing, because they have been founded in virtue of privileges
anterior to the constitution. Is not this respect for an evil
consecrated by time, a culpable weakness? Some persons with whom I have
spoken, have answered that the lotteries of New York do not produce as
much immorality as those of Europe, because their product does not go to
the treasury of the government, but in the support of the hospitals; nor
are they as dangerous to the working classes, because the high price of
tickets render them only accessible to the rich. These arguments appear
to me to be very weak, and by no means reconciled me to the lotteries.
Of all the cities in the United States, New York is certainly the one in
which society has lost most of the national character. The great number
of foreigners which incessantly flow into it, is a continually operating
cause. However we still find there some principal, strongly marked
features, which preserve in its physiognomy the character of
nationality. One of these features is hospitality. A single letter of
recommendation here suffices to give strangers an entrance into the most
distinguished society, and if their character and conduct correspond
honorably to the kindness which every one is disposed to show them, it
is easy for them in a short time to derive therefrom both pleasure and
profit. Unfortunately many show themselves unworthy of this kind
reception, and I can scarcely comprehend how, after so many unfortunate
experiments the New Yorkers can expose themselves again voluntarily to
have their generous hospitality returned by fraud, treachery or calumny.
It is not rare to find Europeans, who, when interrogated on the
character of the Americans, answer with effrontery, “They are all
corrupt, hypocritical egotists.” If we take the trouble to examine the
conduct of those who accuse with so much asperity we are altogether
astounded to discover that one dare not appear in presence of a certain
individual, because he has been long in his debt, is insolvent and
unworthy; and that another received at first with confidence into a
particular family, has been turned out of doors for having attempted the
basest seduction; and in short, that a third is at present an object of
public contempt, having at first conciliated public opinion under the
mask of virtues, which he was totally incapable of exercising. It would
be easy for me to prove my assertion and name some of these wretches:
but it would be far more agreeable to me, if I did not fear to wound
their feelings, to name Messrs. P. B. M. G. &c. who by their
intelligence have secured themselves an honourable existence, and by the
nobleness of their characters have preserved the French name from the
contempt into which it would otherwise have been plunged by so many
adventurers.
Among so many calumnies diffused by ignorant and malevolent travellers,
there are some disagreeable truths concerning which it would be weakness
to remain silent. Thus, I shall not pass by the numerous bankruptcies
which at New York, as in all the large commercial cities of the union,
inflict as severe injuries upon public morals as upon that confidence
and security which commerce every where demands, as a basis
indispensable to its existence and prosperity. A faithless man is not
withheld in his commercial dealings by any restrictive law, and it must
be confessed that the justice of public opinion is not always
sufficiently severe. However, for some years past the correct and
upright part of the commercial society of New York, forming an immense
majority, have raised their voice powerfully to ask of congress a law
which shall secure to the creditors of a broken merchant, an equal right
to share in the dividend of what he gives up, and to prevent a merchant
who finds his affairs embarrassed, from assigning before-hand, all that
he possesses for the payment of a few confidential friends, who have
lent him their names and money, by the aid of which they have betrayed
the confidence of the public. Congress has not been deaf to the chamber
of commerce of New York and many other cities; it has already carefully
examined into the possibility of making a law which shall repress these
terrible abuses, without interfering with the absolute liberty essential
to the existence of commerce. The difficulties have appeared great to
the legislators, but not insurmountable. Much is expected from their
conscientious and enlightened zeal.
The ladies here dress in the French taste, but their manners are still
entirely American; that is, they devote almost their whole existence to
the management of the household, and the education of their children.
They generally live much retired, and although many of them possess very
agreeable and excellent powers of conversation, they do not however
occupy much attention in society, where the young ladies appear to have
the exclusive right of reigning. These latter, it is true, have from
nature and education, all the means of pleasing. The unlimited liberty
they enjoy, without ever abusing it, gives a grace and frankness to
their manners, and a modest ease, which is sought in vain in our
companies, where, under the name of reserve, the most painful
insignificance is imposed upon our young ladies.
The American ladies are not more remarkable for their severe conjugal
fidelity, than the girls are for their constancy to their _engagements_.
At parties I have often had pointed out to me young ladies of eighteen
or nineteen, who had been _engaged_, and of whose future husbands, one
was in Europe pursuing his studies; another in China, attending to
commercial business, and a third dangerously employed in the whale
fishery, in the most distant seas. Young girls thus _engaged_, hold the
middle place in society between their still disengaged companions and
the married ladies. They have already lost some of the thoughtless
gaiety of the former, and assumed a slight tinge of the gravity of the
other. The numerous aspirants, designated here by the name of _beaux_,
which at first surrounded them, and were received until a choice was
made, still bestow upon them delicate attentions, but by no means so
particular as formerly, and should one of them, either from ignorance or
obstinate hopes, persist in offering his heart and hand, the answer “I
am engaged,” given with a sweet frankness and an indulgent smile, soon
destroys all his illusions, without wounding his pride. Engagements of
this sort, preceding marriage, are very common, not only in New York,
but throughout the United States; and it is exceedingly rare that they
are not fulfilled with religious fidelity. Public opinion is very severe
on this point, and does not spare either of the two parties which may
dispose of themselves without the consent of the other.
Persons who think republican principles incompatible with the enjoyments
procurable by wealth, will find the luxury of New York excessive, and
may suppose that a people which treads upon the richest English carpets;
which profusely pours into gold and crystal, the most delicate wines of
France, and runs after pleasure in elegant carriages, cannot long
continue their independence. Such persons might with reason be
frightened, if luxury here, like that of our princes and courtiers of
Europe, sprung from the oppression and toils of the people; but they may
comfort themselves by reflecting that this luxury is the offspring of
industry, the rich and fruitful daughter of liberty.
If luxury have invaded the dwelling of the banker; if she be seated at
the table of the manufacturer, or penetrated even to the cabinet of the
man of science, she has not yet crossed the thresholds of the hotels.
Nothing can be more simple, nothing can be more modest, I might almost
say more incommodious than the boarding-houses of New York, and indeed
of all the other cities of the union. The bed-rooms are commonly large
halls, containing seven or eight beds, placed not more than three or
four feet apart, in which travellers go to rest at night, and quit them
very early in the morning. Every one dresses and undresses himself in
silence, and as it were in public, as there are neither screens nor
curtains to conceal the business of the toilet. Three meals are offered
daily to the boarders; in the morning at 8 o’clock, breakfast, composed
commonly of bread and butter, eggs, fish, smoked meats, with tea and
coffee for beverage: the dinner is amply supplied with large pieces of
boiled and roast meat, accompanied by some pastry, and a few unseasoned
vegetables; the whole washed down by a large quantity of wines, and
other liquors; supper is exactly like the breakfast. These meals are
always announced at fixed hours by the ringing of a bell, at the sound
of which the boarders move with precipitation to seat themselves at
table, at which, with still greater precipitation they take their food,
and nothing is heard but the clattering of knives, forks, and dishes, as
conversation is rarely carried on between persons entirely unacquainted,
unless they have been introduced to each other by a common acquaintance.
The parlour, or hall, which the inmates frequent in the intervals of the
meals, is commonly a great compensation for the community of the
bed-chambers, and the silent precipitation of the dining-room. Here one
finds the newspapers; sometimes a piano, and often a select society, the
honours of which are almost always gracefully done by the lady of the
house, whose education and manners differ essentially from those of
boarding-house keepers in Europe. It is especially in the relations of
host and hostess, with the guests, that the feeling of equality which
here animates all ranks, displays itself with all its force, and it is
not in the least degree more affected by the act of receiving than that
of paying money. Servility and arrogance are as uncommon in the
boarding-houses of New York as they are said to be frequent in those of
London. The mean price of boarding and lodging in New York is about a
dollar and a half per day. No deductions are ever made for meals of
which the boarder may not have partaken.
Although New York is a very extensive city, containing a numerous
population, and annually receiving at least 30,000 foreigners, great
disorders are unknown to it, and the slightest crimes but rarely escape
the vigilance of the police, which is not less surprising for its
activity than for the quietness of its proceedings; from the perfect
order which reigns by day and night, it appears to be every where
present, and yet it is no where seen in operation. The security which it
guarantees to strangers, as to citizens, is not as at Paris the result
of the odious combination of assassin soldiers and disgusting spies; the
traveller is not obliged on entering to declare his name, rank and
business to obtain the protection due to all; in short, after having
resided for some time in New York, one is forced to admit that its
government, like a good genius, makes its benign influence every where
felt, without allowing itself to be any where seen.
Europeans for a long time accustomed to submit to one man or several
men, who under the name of government, trammel at their pleasure the
exercise of the natural rights of other men, their subjects, with
difficulty conceive of a nation, in which all individuals without
exception may travel in every direction and for the greatest distances,
enter all cities and sleep tranquilly in all the inns, without being
obliged to carry with them that ridiculous and tyrannical permission of
the government written upon a scrap of paper, called a passport. This
unbounded liberty of travelling in all directions causes them a surprise
which sometimes amounts to incredulity. The following anecdote which is
warranted as true, is a pleasant proof of the foregoing assertion.
Proscribed in 1815 by the restoration, General C. had been obliged to
quit Paris precipitately, and seek an asylum near Havre with a friend,
whence he hoped to have an opportunity of passing without danger to some
land less inimical to him than his country. An opportunity was soon
offered; an American ship captain moved by his sad situation, willingly
received him on board and conveyed him to the United States. The joy
which General C. experienced at being out of the reach of danger, was
the sentiment which at first entirely absorbed him; he forgot that he
was flying, perhaps forever, his country, family and friends; the vast
ocean and the coming thirty days which separated him from New York, gave
him a security, which was not disturbed but by the sight of the new land
whose hospitality he came to seek. He then remembered with affright,
that he had left Paris so precipitately, that he had not brought a paper
with him. Without authentic documents, without a passport, what was to
become of him. However, he landed and the custom house officer who
questioned him politely as to the contents of his portmanteau, caused
him a degree of fear he had never before felt, except when his master
the Emperor Napoleon looked at him with an air of dissatisfaction; at
the end of a few minutes the custom house officer allowed him to proceed
without demanding his passport! doubtless it must have been through
inadvertancy, by which he resolved to profit. Our general officer much
lighter by half, had his baggage speedily conveyed by a porter to one of
the hotels in Broadway; there a servant received him and shewed him into
a chamber containing four or five beds, on several of which were lying
articles which indicated that they had been taken possession of; he
inquired with uneasiness if he could not have a private room. There was
but one which contained two beds, which was given him, with a promise
that no one else should be introduced there. Once alone, he breathed
more freely, and thanked his happy star that he had so fortunately
passed so many dangers. The next packet from Havre would bring him
letters of credit; he could then make himself known and obtain
protection. It was then only necessary to avoid being arrested as an
adventuring vagabond or suspected person, to pass fifteen days in his
retreat, and to this he was resigned. He had already passed three days
in his _solitary confinement_, when on the morning of the fourth day,
his landlord presented himself and with an air of politeness without
obtrusion, and of interest without curiosity, said “I am not naturally
indiscreet sir, nor am I in the habit of troubling my guests with
impertinent questions, but I fear that the severe seclusion to which you
appear to have condemned yourself since you have been in my house is
provoked by chagrin or by some unfortunate embarrassment, and I come to
offer you without ceremony my services, which I wish you to accept in
the same manner.” The simple and cordial manner in which this was said,
encouraged our poor hermit. “You appear to be a good man,” said he to
his host, “and I will confide in you; my situation is unfortunate, as
you shall judge.” Then casting an uneasy glance around the chamber and
lowering his voice, continued, “I am a French officer, forced in
consequence of the great events which you know to have happened, to quit
my country, and to seek a refuge from proscription. The Americans and
their government are hospitable I know, but here, as well as every where
else, the police which watches over the safety of the citizens, demand
without doubt that strangers shall make themselves known, and how can I
do it, as I have not even a passport? How can I then obtain permission
to reside in this city, or to go to another? You offer your assistance;
be then my security to the police, that I may reside in and move about
without interruption, and my gratitude shall be unbounded.” From this
disclosure and the agitation which accompanied it, the American thought
the French officer must be mad, and he would have remained in this
belief, if the other had not explained to him the indispensable
importance and necessity of a passport to a traveller in Europe. He then
hastened to quiet his fears by saying, “that the authority which governs
us emanates from ourselves, and we have not been so senseless as to give
it the absurd power of paralyzing our most natural faculties, as those
of going in any direction, or as far as we please. Foreigners landing on
our soil are allowed to enjoy all their faculties, which do not
interfere with the rights of other men. Go then wherever you wish, from
Labrador to the Gulf of Mexico, from the Atlantic Ocean to Lake Huron,
or remain an inhabitant of New York, and I guarantee you the most
perfect security, the most absolute liberty.” The general could scarcely
believe the assertion, but experience soon convinced him, and in his
first excursions he was less struck by the beauties of nature and the
aspect of an entirely new country, than by the happiness of not being
obliged at the entry of every town, or at every change of horses, to
show his passport to a police officer.
The movement of the port of New York is one of the most animated and
varied pictures that can be imagined. Scarce a half hour elapses without
a ship quitting or arriving at the wharves. The wharves are constantly
covered by groups of travellers arriving or departing; the variety of
their dresses and languages prove that there are few parts of the globe
with which the United States have not intercourse. In the midst of the
crowd which is animated by various sentiments of surprise or regret, it
is easy to distinguish the Americans by their calm, I might almost say
their indifference, on returning to or quitting their natal soil, and
their friends which accompany them to, or receive them on the shore.
Accustomed from infancy to compare together the vast distances which
separate the different points of their country, the American is less
affected at the moment of sailing from New York to China, than a citizen
of Paris would be in going to view the sea at Dieppe. We may perceive
the facility with which Americans travel abroad, by glancing at the
tables of the number of passengers landed at the different ports of the
union: we shall find that the citizens of the United States form a
prodigious proportion, in the ratio of their population.
The following table which contains the number of passengers landed at
the single port of New York from March 1st 1818, to the 11th of
December, 1819, will enable one to judge approximatively of the
proportion of passengers which each nation furnishes to the travellers
of the United States.
Americans 16,628
English 7,629
Irish 6,067
Scotch 1,492
French 930
Belgians 590
Germans 499
Swiss 372
Spaniards 217
Hollanders 155
Italians 103
Danes 97
Portuguese 54
Prussians 48
Swedes 28
Africans 5
Sardinians 3
Norwegians 3