Brattleborough, Vermont, proceeded to the further part of the adjoining
town.[44] The appearance of the country just before my crossing the
Connecticut, was truly interesting. My course was around a mountain
about half way between its summit and the river below. It was the
sabbath day; and the mildness of the christian religion seemed to
breathe around. The rays of the sun, with a kind of vivid obscurity,
darted through the wood; and the solemn, yet cheerful, gospel bell of a
neighbouring villa spake of the pure and peaceful communion of saints.
Even the game seemed to know it was the sabbath, and did not shun my
path. Perhaps it was wrong in me thus to travel. I had {12} never done
so before. My situation, however, was peculiar, and I endeavored to
confine my thoughts to the appropriate views of this holy season.
I am now upon the borders of my own peculiar country. A single step
carries me from New-Hampshire; and when I shall again behold her
pleasant hills is uncertain—Perhaps never!
The term banishment is, in this part of the world, seldom employed; and
its introduction here may appear unmeaning. But those who have been
exiled by their country, by misfortune, or by themselves, will hear the
word with a glow of interest, and find, in their own hearts, its true
and ready definition. Is there no exile beyond the limits of our
land?—no spirit which sighs for the scenes of childhood?—where the light
of Heaven was first beheld, and the impression of thought first
created?—where friendship first warmed, and love etherialized, and
patriotism fired? Oh! if prayer is heard on High, it must be the exile’s
prayer.
The tears of patriotism need no apology. The name of New-Hampshire is
identified with that of freedom. Her mountains were never intended for
slavery; and tyrants, I know, could not exist in the presence of her
people. Were she just to herself, she would always excite fear in her
enemies and admiration in her friends. Her institutions are dictated by
the spirit of self-government, and her will is the supreme law of the
land. Her citizens are hardy, intelligent and virtuous; her climate is
salubrious and her soil fertile; her hills are covered with cattle, and
her vallies wave with grain. Industry, economy, and mechanical genius
are conspicuous characteristics of her people; and a thousand streams,
intersecting the whole country, tender to the manufacturing interest
their powerful agencies. In point of hospitality too she {13} is second
to none; and the virtue, benevolence, and beauty of her daughters are,
at once, the inspiration and the reward of valour.
Within a few years I have visited nearly all the states and territories
of United America. I have noticed their respective moral and physical
character, and have viewed them in relation to the ordinary causes of
the rise and fall of nations. Should the freedom of this country ever
perish, one of her last intrenchments will be in the mountains of
New-Hampshire. Her citizens, however, must, by adhering to her
constitution, and by proper systems of education, preserve in their
minds a knowledge of the first principles of civil liberty, a due sense
of the importance of morality, and a lively interest in the transactions
of the Revolution. The whole history of that great event should, with
us, constitute an indispensable part of education. But in speaking much
of its battles, we must think more of its principles. The latter were so
perfectly correct; and the manner of acting upon them was so candid, so
humane, so firm, so steady, and so persevering, that no political event,
since the creation of man, merits half so much admiration as the
achievement of our independence.
Before leaving New-Hampshire I may say a word respecting Connecticut
river. It is one of the most pleasant and useful rivers in the world. It
generally preserves a distance of from eighty to one hundred miles from
the ocean, and meanders through a very fertile country to the distance
of more than three hundred miles. It waters New-Hampshire, Vermont,
Massachusetts, and Connecticut, and at length passes into Long-Island
Sound.
I am now in Vermont.[45] This is a noble state, and may well be termed
the peculiar sister of New-Hampshire. The same mountainous and fertile
{14} country; the same moral and physical energies characterize them
both. Should their liberties ever be assailed, they will sympathetically
unite their efforts, and triumph or fall together. In both of these
states I met with Revolutionary men, and they were still the champions
of liberty. The tranquil charms of rural avocations had preserved the
purity and peace of their bosoms; whilst the grandeur of their
mountains, and the rudeness of their storms had continually reminded
them of the blasts of tyranny, and of the unconquerable spirit of
freedom.
In both of these states I experienced unlimited hospitality and
kindness. Money could not have purchased so rich a boon. Amidst their
lofty hills, covered with deep snows and assailed by piercing winds, I
found the humble cottager; and in the benevolence of his aspect, and the
hospitality of his board, I seemed to hear the chorus in Gustavus
Vasa:—[46]
“Stranger, cease through storms to roam;
Welcome to the cotter’s home;
Though no courtly pomp be here,
Yet, my welcome is sincere.”
In some parts of these states one may travel many miles without meeting
a habitation; and during deep snows and severe weather there is no
little danger of perishing.
In passing the Green Mountains, I experienced a very narrow escape. The
weather was remarkably severe, and scarcely any one thought travelling
practicable. The wind being high the snow was whirled in every
direction, and the road was trackless. About 4 o’clock in the afternoon
I passed a house, and, imprudently, omitted to inquire as to the
distance to the next dwelling. Fortunately, {15} however, I met, after
travelling three miles, an express from a neighbouring village; and he
informed me that the next habitation was at the distance of two miles.
To this circumstance I owe, probably, the preservation of my life.
About dark I arose a steep hill, and found myself in an open and
uncovered situation. The weather was intensely cold, and the wind very
high. I realized that owing to the depth of the snow, the consequent
difficulty of obtaining fuel, and the probable chill which I should
experience after ceasing to travel, that the wood, from which I had just
emerged, could not afford me sufficient shelter. I should, however, have
resorted to its partial protection in preference to exposing myself to
an unsheltered opening, had I not fully presumed, from the information
above noticed, that a habitation was near. There was not a moment for
indecision. I marked a central course, redoubled my efforts, and in a
half hour reached a comfortable hut. Here, upon taking off my cap, I
found my ears frozen to an almost incredible degree.
It is high time for me to acknowledge some obligations, which have a
particular claim to my gratitude, not only as it respects these stages
of my tour, but throughout the whole of that part of it which was
enlivened by civilization.
Benevolence and kindness are peculiar characteristics of the female
heart. The mildness of her nature comports with the delicacy of her
appearance; and well may Charity always be represented in feminine
apparel. During my tour, the hospitality of the husband was always more
than seconded by that of the wife and daughter.
Such are my respect for, and admiration of the female character; so high
an opinion do I entertain both of her understanding and heart; and so
narrow {16} are the views of many, even in this enlightened age, in
relation to these particulars, that I may be permitted, in this little
work, to become her advocate. A thousand arguments in her behalf
challenge my attention; but I must not transgress the proper limits of
incidental remark.
The influence of woman, in civilized life, has not yet reached its acme.
The effects of her ancient condition are not entirely removed.
Hereditary ignorance and oppression still partially obstruct her
intellectual progress. She has, in times past, not only had to contend
with an almost entire seclusion from the world, where alone theoretical
and practical knowledge are blended for the improvement of the human
mind, but the other sex, unconscious of moral force and influenced only
by a sense of physical strength, have, in various parts of the globe,
treated her as an inferior. Oh, wretched pride!—oh, disgraceful
ignorance!—oh, vulgar barbarity!—the Dove of Paphos is oppressed by the
Egyptian Vulture.
Even in Greece and Rome the state of woman, to speak generally, was
degrading. She was suffered to share but little in the general
intercourse of life; and Metellus Numidicus, in an oration to the people
of Rome, speaks of her with contempt. Yet some exultingly inquire,—where
are your female philosophers and poets of antiquity?
Greece and Rome were the principal theatres of ancient literature. Had
the men of those times and countries been treated as the females were,
we should have looked in vain for those galaxys of genius and erudition,
which are the constant theme of the modern world. Had this been the case
the Peripatetic Philosopher would not have written, the Mantuan Bard
would not have sung. Yet, even here, Corinna was the instructress of
Pindar, and in competition {17} with him obtained the prize. Mamaea too
was so distinguished for wisdom, that the worthy and renowned Ulpian
thought it an honor to be appointed one of her counsellors. Other cases
might be introduced; but this topic is leading me too far from my main
subject. One example more, however, shall be mentioned. The mighty
genius of Zenobia rose above the indolence incident to the climate and
manners of Asia. Her administration was guided by the most judicious
maxims. She was too a linguist and historian, and expatiated upon the
beauties of Homer and Plato, with the learned and eloquent Longinus.
Perhaps I may venture a little further. The peculiar sphere of the
understanding is mathematics; and because there have not been great
mathematicians among the female sex, she, to be sure, is to be deprived
of her proper station in the department of intelligence.
Would men have been mathematicians if their education had been like that
of woman? Surely not. Why then should woman, whose sphere is foreign to
this pursuit, be represented as incapable of successfully engaging in
it? Besides, many men of the first genius, and of the most vigorous
intellect, have entertained an aversion to mathematics amounting to an
incapacity to attend to them with success. The learned Gibbon declares
that he entirely lost those seasons in which he was obliged to prosecute
this branch of study; and Gray, in his time the first scholar in Europe,
asserts that if mathematics would insure him wealth and fame, he would
relinquish its advantages for the charms of general literature.
There is a diversity of taste among mankind; and the same privilege of
enjoying it without censure should be granted to both sexes. The great
mathematician Archimedes had but little inclination {18} for any other
branch of learning than geometry; and Gray could not endure metaphysics.
There is also a diversity of talents among both sexes. The logical,
learned, and eloquent Cicero failed in his attempts in poetry. How
unreasonable would it be to consider him inferior to our great female
poets on this account! and, of course, how unfair to deny strength of
intellect to woman, because she is not conspicuous for her knowledge of
mathematics!
A sense of propriety, relative to this digression, constrains me to
conclude. In what respect, I ask, is woman inferior to the other sex?
Heroism is a test of intellectual vigour; and woman has evinced
superlative bravery, by a sudden transition from the gentle avocations
of domestic life to the battle’s rage. An enlightened fortitude also
argues strength of intellect. Here let men admire what they can never
imitate: how much physical suffering, and how much anguish of spirit are
peculiar to the female character! yet, resignation and hope are the
cherub companions of her tribulation.
Modern times are throwing wonderful light upon this subject; and are
developing those astonishing combinations of female sentiment and
genius, which in past ages scintillated through the gloom of barbarism.
A splendid list of names illustrative of this position might be here
introduced; but the whole list would be too long, and a selection would
be difficult. Sentiment is emphatically the highest sphere of genius;
and it is the sphere where the heart becomes the great magician of
intellectual life. Men are indebted to woman for what they possess of
this principle; and until she made them acquainted with it they were
barbarians.
Wherever I stopped, in my course through the settled parts of the
country, I was much pleased {19} with the interest which my appearance
excited in little children. There was a conflict exhibited in their
countenances between the fears implanted by domestic education, and the
native fondness of man for the hunter state. By my assuming, however,
the aspect and the smile of civilization, they would come to my arms of
fur, and listen attentively to the simple stories of the chase.
Afterwards, they would reward my kindness to them by more solid
attentions to my dogs.
In travelling from Connecticut River to Bennington, I passed through a
part of Marlborough, Wilmington, Reedsbury, Stanford, and Woodford.
Whilst in the latter place the weather was severe beyond a parallel.
When, however, in Brattleborough, which lies immediately upon the river,
the weather was much more moderate.
Whilst upon the Green Mountains my thoughts were particularly directed
to the days of the Revolution, when, in the language of a British Chief,
the sons of New-Hampshire and Vermont hung like a cloud upon his left.
Here too I remembered that thunderbolt of war, the veteran Stark, in
whose heart dwelt the very genius of his country, and who discomfited
her enemies by the strength of his native hills.
On these mountains my attention was attracted by the appearance of a
thick fall of snow during a clear sunshine. This appearance is not
common here; and proceeds, I presume, from the little influence which
the sun produces upon the state of the atmosphere in this situation. On
the west side of these mountains the snow was not so deep as on the east
side; and I apprehend that this is usually the case.
Within about two miles beyond this lofty ridge, Bennington is
situated.[47] This town presents an ancient {20} aspect, and appears
unflourishing; it is situated, however, upon a fertile tract of country,
and contains several handsome buildings. The number of its houses is
perhaps two hundred. Mount Anthony, in the south part of the town, makes
a pleasant appearance; and the town itself is rendered interesting by
the two famous battles, fought a little west of it, on the 16th of
August, 1777. In these battles the celebrated General Stark acquired
imperishable fame. Owing to the severity of the weather I did not visit
the noted cave of Mount Anthony.
From Bennington I proceeded through Hoosuck, Pittstown, Troy, and
Albany. From the former to the latter place, the distance is about
thirty-five miles.
In passing through Pittstown the weather was still severe; and night
having overtaken me before I could reach a public house, I was under the
necessity of lodging in a log hut. The family were very poor; but the
wealth of Kings could not purchase their virtues. As is the case with
many other honest people, they had experienced a series of misfortunes
which ultimately reduced them to penury. Two years before the period of
my seeing them, their mills, the principal part of their property, had
been carried away by a freshet; and a year after this event, their
dwelling was consumed, with all its contents. Yet these good people were
cheerful, and their poverty sat gracefully upon them. They were unable
to furnish me with a bed, a comfort with which I had learned to
dispense, but very readily shared with me their last loaf. For their
services they charged nothing; and it was with difficulty that I
persuaded them to take compensation.
The blessings of poverty are neither few nor small. It attaches an
extraordinary interest to the most common acquisitions; and, when there
is little {21} or no apprehension of want, it furnishes a constant
source of pleasing anticipation. Under such circumstances, parents and
children experience their happiest moments. Mutual love, and mutual
gratulation, here heighten and sanctify every expression of the care and
bounty of Providence.—There is something in virtuous poverty, which
speaks of treasures laid up in Heaven.
In entering Troy I left Lansingburgh on my right. The former place is
exceedingly compact and flourishing, and extends between one and two
miles on the east bank of the Hudson. On the other side of the river, at
the distance of six miles, Albany is situated.
This city, in relation to the state, ranks next to that of New-York; but
its appearance is far from being elegant. The streets are generally
narrow and crooked; and its numerous buildings in the Gothic style give
to it an ancient and unpolished aspect. It is, evidently, however, a
place of great trade; and must, in the nature of things, rapidly
increase in wealth and population. The back country is extensive and
fertile; and the public spirit of the state of New-York is affording
every facility to the inland transportation of its produce.
The variety of people in Albany is great. The Dutch here still make a
considerable figure; but the Americans are more numerous. This place has
received many names. Its scite was originally called Aurania; and the
town itself was afterwards named Beverwych, Fort Orange, Williamstadt,
and, upon its capitulation to the English in 1664, it received its
present appellation. This city, next to Jamestown, in Virginia, is the
oldest in the United States.
This place contains many large public buildings, among which is the
city-hall, hospital, armoury, {22} &c. There are here also some elegant
dwelling houses; but I should not suppose the city, from its appearance,
the residence of much taste or erudition. It contains, however, what
some may consider an equivalent:—many families of wealth and fashion.
The population of the place is about twelve thousand.
After leaving Albany I shaped my course for Niagara Falls by the way of
Cherry Valley. From the city there are two roads; the left hand one
leading to the last mentioned place, and the right hand one to
Schenectady. The great Western Turnpike extends from Schenectady, lying
on the south bank of the Mohawk, and sixteen miles from Albany, to
Buffalo, a distance of about three hundred miles. The two roads above
mentioned intersect about one hundred and twenty miles from Albany.[48]
Upon both of them are many flourishing villages; and the produce which
is conveyed from the interior to Albany, Troy, and other places in the
state, is immense.
The state of New-York is very conspicuous for her public spirit. She is
affording every facility, within the grasp of her mighty genius and
resources, to her inland commerce. In arts, and arms, and internal
improvement, she is already a Rome in miniature; and her grand Canal
will vie with those of China and the Russian Empire.
In travelling over a part of the great western turnpike; and in
collecting information as to the settlements and business both here and
on the Mohawk, I was led to make some statistical calculations, the
general result of which, together with some additional reflections, I
transcribe from my journal.
The state of New-York is, of itself, a mighty republic. Her moral and
physical energies; her agriculture, {23} manufactures, and commerce; and
her individual enterprise and public spirit, render her omnipotent. She
could contend alone and unassisted with Great-Britain. What then is the
aggregate force of all our states and territories? The contemplation of
their potential, and even probable physical power, within a short
succession of years, presents such a manifold ratio as to overwhelm the
boldest calculator.
But the moral energies of the country will, no doubt, become
proportionably less. The friends of political virtue, however, must not
be discouraged. The moral hero can do much towards stemming the torrent
of political corruption. Besides, the vast surface over which the
elements of this corruption will spread themselves, will render it, for
a long course of time, comparatively harmless; and beyond this period,
the influence of some Heavenly star may give to ambition and the love of
power a purer spirit and a nobler aim.
In relation to this topic, the prevailing spirit of emigration, from the
maritime to the inland frontier, will have a very beneficial influence.
In a public point of view, great and permanent advantages will arise
from the settlement of our western states and territories. But
individuals from the east are not always benefitted by a removal. The
principal advantages arising from such a step, are the profits on the
purchase of new lands, and better crops obtained with less labour. The
disadvantages are numerous. Those who can, by their industry, live well
at home, will act wisely in remaining where they are. By a removal they
lose a climate to which they are accustomed, good society, an
opportunity to educate their children, and scenes to which their hearts
will often fondly turn—The sons of New-Hampshire never forget her
mountains!
{24} I shall speak more fully upon the subject of emigration in another
place.
I may here introduce some facts relative to the grand canal in the State
of New-York.[49] The object of this great undertaking is to facilitate
the inland commerce of the State, by uniting the waters of Lake Erie
with those of the Hudson. The former are much higher than the latter;
but still the labour and expence necessary to complete the undertaking,
will prove to be immense. To the State of New-York, however, such a work
scarcely requires an effort. Her almost inexhaustible resources,
directed by the genius and energy of her Clinton, could accomplish a
hundred times as much. The Canal passes in the direction of Genessee
river, and Seneca and Cayuga lakes; and will turn much of the trade of
the west from Montreal to the city of New-York.