CHAPTER XXXI.

_Olla Podrida_.

American Vanity

American Sensitiveness

American Morals

Territory and Population

Effect of Early Education

Phases of Liberty

Strikes

Intelligence

Energy

'Cuteness and Eggs

Enterprise--Lord-hunting

Hospitality--Political Parties

Know-nothings

The Future

My Endeavour

My Warning

Lord Holland, Hope, and Farewell

NOTES.

EXTENT OF TELEGRAPH IN THE UNITED KINGDOM

A SHORT SKETCH OF THE PROGRESS OF FIRE-ARMS

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote A:

"THE INQUIRING MIND WEARIES NOT IN THE PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE."

ANTONIO PEREZ. (_Translation_)]

EXPLANATORY LIST OF PLATES.

VIGNETTE OF THE ENTRANCE TO A COFFEE PLANTER'S RESIDENCE

RAILWAY CARRIAGE

LOCOMOTIVE

CUTTER YACHT "MARIA"

The following are the dimensions referred to in the text as being on

the original engraving:--

Tonnage by displacement 137 tons

Length on deck 110 feet

Breadth of beam 26-1/2 "

Depth of hold 8-1/4 "

Length of mast 91 "

Length of boom 95 "

Length of gaff 50 feet

Length of jibboom 70 "

Length of bowsprit on board 27 "

Diameter of bowsprit 24 in.

Diameter of boom 26 in.

MAP OF CROTON AQUEDUCT

This map is accurately copied from Mr. Schramke's scientific work, but

the reader is requested to understand that the lines drawn at right

angles over the whole of Manhattan Island represent what the city of

New York is intended to be. At present its limits scarcely pass _No.

1. Distributing Reservoir_.

STEWARDESS OF THE "LADY FRANKLIN"

This print may possibly be a little exaggerated.

A MISSISSIPPI STEAMER

This print is raised out of all proportion, for the purpose of giving

a better idea of the scenes on board, than the limits of the sheet

would otherwise have permitted. If the cabin on the deck of the Hudson

River steamer were raised upon pillars about 15 or 20 feet high, it

would convey a tolerably accurate impression of the proper

proportions.

THE NEW ST. CHARLES HOTEL, NEW ORLEANS

EL CASERO, OR THE PARISH HAWKER IN CUBA

THE GERARD COLLEGE, PHILADELPHIA

NORMAL SCHOOL, TORONTO

A great portion of the ground adjoining is now given up to

agricultural experimental purposes.

HUDSON RIVER STEAMER, 1200 TONS

The dimensions are:--

Length 325 feet

Breadth 38 "

Depth of hold 11 "

Width of cylinder. 5 ft. 10 in.

Length of stroke. 14 feet

Diameter of wheel. 40 "

MAP OF THE UNITED STATES

A CHAPTER,

_Gratis and Explanatory_.

What is the use of a preface? Who wants a preface? Nay, more--what is a

preface? Who can define it? That which it is most unlike is the

mathematical myth called a point, which may be said to have neither

length nor breadth, and consequently no existence; whereas a preface

generally has extreme length, all the breadth the printer can give it,

and an universal existence.

But if prefaces cannot be described with mathematical accuracy, they

admit of classification with most unmathematical inaccuracy. First, you

have a large class which may be called CLAIMERS. Ex.: One claims a

certain degree of consideration, upon the ground that it is the author's

first effort; a second claims indulgence, upon the ground of haste; a

third claims attention, upon the ground of the magnitude and importance

of the subject, &c. &c. Another large class may be termed MAKERS. Ex.:

One makes an excuse for tediousness; a second makes an apology for

delay; a third makes his endeavours plead for favourable reception, &c.

Then again you have the INTERROGATOR, wherein a reader is found before

the work is printed, convenient questions are put into his mouth, and

ready replies are given, to which no rejoinder is permitted. This is

very astute practice.--Then again there is the PUFFER AND CONDENSER,

wherein, if matter be wanting in the work, a prefacial waggon is put

before the chapteral pony, the former acting the part of pemican, or

concentrated essence, the latter representing the liquid necessary for

cooking it; the whole forming a _potage au lecteur_, known among

professional men as "soldier's broth."

My own opinion on this important point is, that a book is nothing more

nor less than a traveller; he is born in Fact or Fancy; he travels along

a goose-quill; then takes a cruise to a printer's. On his return thence

his health is discovered to be very bad; strong drastics are applied; he

is gradually cooked up; and when convalescent, he puts on his Sunday

clothes, and struts before the public. At this critical juncture up

comes the typish master of the ceremonies, Mr. Preface, and commences

introducing him to them; but knowing that both man and woman are

essentially inquisitive, he follows the example of that ancient and

shrewd traveller who, by way of saving time and trouble, opened his

address to every stranger he accosted, in some such manner as the

following:--"Sir, I am Mr. ----, the son of Mr. ----, by ----, his wife

and my mother. I left ---- two days ago. I have got ---- in my

carpet-bag. I am going to ---- to see Mr. ----, and to try and purchase

some ----." Then followed the simple question for which an answer was

wanted, "Will you lend me half-a-crown?" "Tell me the road;" "Give me a

pinch of snuff;" or "Buy my book," as the case might be. The stranger,

gratified with his candour, became immediately prepossessed in his

favour. I will endeavour to follow the example of that 'cute traveller,

and forestall those questions which I imagine the reader--if there be

one--might wish to ask.

1. Why do I select a subject on which so many abler pens have been

frequently and lately employed?--Because it involves so many important

questions, both socially and politically, in a field where the changes

are scarcely less rapid than the ever-varying hues on the dying dolphin;

and because the eyes of mankind, whether mental or visual, are as

different as their physiognomies; and thus those who are interested in

the subject are enabled to survey it from different points of view.

2. Do I belong to any of those homoeopathic communities called political

parties?--I belong to none of them; I look upon all of them as so many

drugs in a national apothecary's shop. All have their useful qualities,

even the most poisonous; but they are frequently combined so

injudiciously as to injure John Bull's health materially, especially as

all have a strong phlebotomizing tendency, so much so, that I often see

poor John in his prostration ready to cry out, "Throw Governments to the

dogs--I'll none of them!" If in my writings I appear to show on some

points a political bias, it is only an expression of those sentiments

which my own common sense[B] and observation have led me to entertain on

the subject under discussion, and for which I offer neither defence nor

apology.

3. Am I an artist?--No; I am an author and a plagiarist. Every sketch in

my book is taken from some other work, except the "Screecher," which is

from the artistic pen of Lady G.M.; and the lovely form and features of

the coloured sylph, for which I am indebted to my friend Mr. J.F.C.--You

must not be too curious.--I consider myself justified in plagiarizing

anything from anybody, if I conceive it will help to elucidate my

subject or amuse my reader, provided always I have a reasonable ground

for believing the source is one with which the general reader is not

likely to be acquainted. But when I do steal, I have the honesty to

confess it.

4. What is my book about?--It treats of an island, a confederacy and a

colony; and contains events of travel, facts and thoughts concerning

people, telegraphs, railroads, canals, steam, rivers, commercial

prosperity, education, the Press, low literature, slavery, government,

&c. &c.

5. What security can I offer for the pretensions advanced being made

good?--None whatever. Who takes me, must take me, like a wife, "for

better for worse," only he is requested to remember I possess three

distinct advantages over that lady.--First, you can look inside me as

well as out: Secondly, you can get me more easily and keep me more

cheaply: Thirdly, if you quarrel with me, you can get a divorce in the

fire-place or at the trunkmaker's, without going to the House of Lords.

I trust I have now satisfied all the legitimate demands of curiosity.

I will only further remark that in some of my observations upon, the

United States, such as travelling and tables-d'hôte, the reader must

bear in mind that in a land of so-called equality, whenever that

principle is carried out, no comparison can be drawn accurately between

similar subjects in the Republic and in England.

The society conveyed in one carriage in the States embraces the first,

second, and third-class passengers of Great Britain; and the society fed

at their tables-d'hôte contains all the varieties found in this country,

from the pavilion to the pot-house. If we strike a mean between the

extremes as the measure of comfort thus obtained, it is obvious, that in

proportion as the traveller is accustomed to superior comforts in this

country, so will he write disparagingly of their want in the States,

whereas people of the opposite extreme will with equal truth laud their

superior comforts. The middle man is never found, for every traveller

either praises or censures. However unreasonable it might be to expect

the same refinements in a Republic of "Equal rights," as those which

exist in some of the countries of the Old World under a system more

favourable to their development, it is not the less a traveller's duty

to record his impressions faithfully, leaving it to the reader to draw

his own conclusions.

It was suggested to me to read several works lately published, and

treating of the United States; but as I was most anxious to avoid any of

that bias which such reading would most probably have produced, I have

strictly avoiding so doing, even at the risk of repeating what others

may have said before.

I have nothing further to add in explanation.--The horses are to.--The

coach is at the door.--Chapter one is getting in.--To all who are

disposed to accompany me in my journey, I say--Welcome!

H.A.M.

D 4, ALBANY, LONDON,

_1st June, 1855_.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote B: Perhaps "human instinct" might be a more modest

expression.]

CHAPTER I.

_"Make ready ... Fire!" The Departure._

The preparations for the start of a traveller on a long journey are

doubtless of every variety in quality and quantity, from the poor Arab,

whose wife carries his house as well as all his goods--or perhaps I

should rather say, from Sir Charles Napier of Scinde with his one

flannel waistcoat and his piece of brown soap--up to the owners of the

Dover waggon-looking "_fourgon_" who carry with them for a week's trip

enough to last a century. My weakness, reader, is, I believe, a very

common one, i.e., a desire to have everything, and yet carry scarce

anything.

The difficulties of this arrangement are very perplexing to your

servant, if you have one, as in my case. First you put out every

conceivable article on the bed or floor, and then with an air of

self-denial you say, "There, that will be enough;" and when you find an

additional portmanteau lugged out, you ask with an air of astonishment

(which may well astonish the servant), "What on earth are you going to

do with that?" "To put your things into it, sir," is the very natural,

reply; so, after a good deal of "Confound it, what a bore," &c., it ends

in everything being again unpacked, a fresh lot thrown aside, and a new

packing commenced; and believe me, reader, the oftener you repeat this

discarding operation, the more pleasantly you will travel. I speak from

experience, having, during my wanderings, lost everything by shipwreck,

and thus been forced to pass through all the stages of quantity, till I

once more burdened myself as unnecessarily as at starting.

It was a lovely September morning in 1852, when, having put my traps

through the purging process twice, and still having enough for

half-a-dozen people, I took my place in the early train from

Euston-square for Liverpool, where I was soon housed in the Adelphi. A

young American friend, who was going out in the same steamer on the

following morning, proposed a little walk before the shades of evening

closed in, as he had seen nothing of the city. Off we started, full of

intentions never to be realized: I stepped into a cutler's shop to buy a

knife; a nice-looking girl in the middle of her teens, placed one or two

before me; I felt a nudge behind, and a voice whispered in my ear, "By

George, what a pretty hand!" It was perfectly true; and so convinced was

my friend of the fact, that he kept repeating it in my ear. When my

purchase was completed, and the pretty hand retired, my friend exhibited

symptoms of a strong internal struggle: it was too much for him. At last

he burst out with, "Have you any scissors?"--Aside to me, "What a pretty

little hand!"--Then came a demand for bodkins, then for needles, then

for knives, lastly for thimbles, which my friend observed were too

large, and begged might be tried on her taper fingers. He had become so

enthusiastic, and his asides to me were so rapid, that I believe he

would have bought anything which those dear little hands had touched.

Paterfamilias, who, while poring over his ledger, had evidently had his

ears open, now became alarmed at the reduction that was going on in his

stock, and consequently came forward to scrutinize the mysterious

purchaser. I heard a voice muttering "Confound that old fellow!" as the

dutiful daughter modestly gave place to papa; a Bank of England tenner

passed from my friend's smallclothes to the cutler's small till, and a

half-crown _vice versa_. When we got to the door it was pitch dark; and

thus ended our lionizing of the public buildings of Liverpool.

On the way back to the hotel, as my companion was thinking aloud, I

heard him alternately muttering in soft tones, "What a pretty hand," and

then, in harsh and hasty tones, '"Confound," ... "crusty old fellow;"

and reflecting thereon, I came to the conclusion that if the expressions

indicated weakness, they indicated that pardonable civilizing weakness,

susceptibility to the charms of beauty; and I consequently thought more

kindly of my future fellow-traveller. In the evening we were joined by

my brother and a young officer of the Household Brigade, who were to be

fellow-passengers in our trip across the Atlantic.

Early morning witnessed a procession of hackney coaches, laden as though

we were bent on permanent emigration. Arrived at the quay, a small,

wretched-looking steamer was lying alongside, to receive us and our

goods for transport to the leviathan lying in mid-channel, with her

steam up ready for a start.

The operation of disposing of the passengers' luggage in this wretched

little tea-kettle was amusing enough in its way. Everybody wanted

everybody else's traps to be put down, below, and their own little this,

and little that, kept up: one group, a man, wife, and child,

particularly engaged my attention; the age of the child, independent of

the dialogue, showed that the honeymoon was passed.

WIFE.--"Now, William, my dear, _do_ keep that little box up!"

HUSBAND.--"Hi! there; keep that hat-box of mine up!" (_Aside_,) "Never

mind your box, my dear, _it_ wont hurt."

WIFE.--"Oh, William, there's my little cap-box going down! it will be

broken, in pieces."

HUSBAND.--"Oh! don't be afraid, my dear, they'll take care of it. Stop,

my man, that's my desk; give it me here," &c. &c.

The dialogue was brought to a sudden stop by the frantic yell of the

juvenile pledge of their affections, whose years had not yet reached two

figures; a compact little iron-bound box had fallen on his toe, and the

poor little urchin's pilliloo, pilliloo, was pitiful. Mamma began

hugging and kissing, while papa offered that handy consolation of,

"Never mind, that's a good boy; don't cry." In the meantime, the Jacks

had profited by the squall, and, when it ceased, the happy couple had

the satisfaction of seeing all their precious boxes buried deep in the

hold.

The stream of luggage having stopped, and the human cargo being all on

board, we speedily cast off our lashings, and started: fortunately, it

was fine weather, for, had there been rain, our ricketty tea-kettle

would have afforded us no protection whatever. On reaching the

leviathan, the passengers rushed up hastily, and, armed with

walking-sticks or umbrellas, planted themselves like sentries on the

deck. As the Jacks came tumbling up with the luggage, shouts of "Hi!

that's mine," rent the air; and if Jack, in the hurry and confusion, did

not attend to the cry, out would dart one or other with umbrella or

stick, as the case might be, and harpoon him under the fifth rib; for,

with a heavy burden on his head and shoulders, necessarily supported by

both hands, defence was impossible. I must say, Jack took it all in good

humour, and filing a bill "STOMACH _v_. RIBS," left it to Old Neptune to

obtain restitution for injuries inflicted on his sons. I believe those

who have once settled their accounts with that sea-deity are not more

anxious to be brought into his court again, than those who have enjoyed

the prolonged luxury of a suit in Chancery.

Everything must have an end; so, the mail agent arriving with his postal

cargo, on goes the steam, and off goes the "Africa," Captain Harrison.

"Some wave the hand, and some begin to cry,

Some take a weed, and nodding, say good-bye."

I am now fairly off for New York, with a brother and two friends; we

have each pinned our card to the red table-cover in the saloon, to

indicate our permanent positions at the festive board during the voyage.

Unless there is some peculiarity in arrangement or circumstance, all

voyages resemble each other so much, that I may well spare you the

dullness of repetition. Stewards will occasionally upset a soup-plate,

and it will sometimes fall inside the waistcoat of a "swell," who

travelling for the first time, thinks it requisite to "get himself up"

as if going to the Opera. People under the influence of some internal

and irresistible agency, will occasionally spring from the table with an

energy that is but too soon painfully exhausted, upsetting a few side

dishes as their feet catch the corner of the cloth. Others will rise,

and try to look dignified and composed, the hypocrisy whereof is

unpleasantly revealed ere they reach the door of the saloon; others eat

and drink with an ever-increasing vigour, which proves irresistibly the

truth of the saying, "_L'appétit vient en mangeant_." Heads that walked

erect, puffing cigars like human chimneys in the Mersey, hang listless

and 'baccoless in the Channel (Mem., "Pride goes before a fall").

Ladies, whose rosy cheeks and bright eyes, dimmed with the parting tear,

had, as they waved the last adieu, told of buoyant health and spirits,

gather mysteriously to the sides of the vessel, ready for any emergency,

or lie helpless in their berths, resigning themselves to the ubiquitous

stewardess, indifferent even to death itself. Others, again, whose

interiors have been casehardened by Old Neptune, patrol the deck, and,

if the passengers are numerous, congratulate each other in the most

heartless manner by the observation, "There'll be plenty of room in the

saloon, if this jolly breeze continues!"

All these things are familiar to most travellers, suffice it, therefore,

to say, that on the present occasion Old Neptune was in a good humour,

"the jolly breeze" did not last long, nor was it ever very jolly. My

American friend and the Household Brigade-man tried very hard to make

out that they felt sick at first, but I believe I succeeded in

convincing them that it was all imagination, for they both came steadily

to meals, and between them and my brother, who has the appetite of a

Pawnee when at sea, I found that a modest man like myself got but

"monkey's allowance" of the champagne which I had prescribed as a

medicine, erroneously imagining that those internal qualms usually

produced by a sea voyage would have enabled me to enjoy the lion's

share.

We saw nothing during the voyage but a few strange sail and a couple of

icebergs, the latter very beautiful when seen in the distance, with the

sea smooth as a mirror, and the sun's rays striking upon them. I felt

very thankful the picture was not reversed; the idea of running your

nose against an iceberg, in the middle of a dark night, with a heavy

gale blowing and sea running, was anything but pleasant.

In due time we made Cape Race. I merely mention the fact for the purpose

of observing that the captain, and others to whom I have spoken since,

unanimously agree in condemning the position of the lighthouse; first,

as not being placed on the point a vessel from Europe would make,

inasmuch as that point is further north and east; and secondly, because

vessels coasting northwards are not clear of danger if they trend away

westward after passing the light. There may be some advantages to the

immediate neighbourhood, but, for the general purposes of navigation,

its position is a mistake, and has, on more than one occasion, been very

nearly the cause of the wreck of one of our large steamers[C].

Early on the morning of the tenth day I heard voices outside my cabin

saying, "Well, they've got the pilot on board," _ergo_, we must be

nearing our haven. In the Channel at home you know a pilot by a

foul-weather hat, a pea-coat, broad shoulders, and weather-beaten

cheeks; here, the captain had told me that I could always know them by a

polished beaver and a satin or silk waistcoat. When I got on deck, sure

enough there was the beaver hat and the silk vest, but what struck me

most, was the wearer, a slim youth, hardly out of his teens. In the

distance, the New York pilot-boat, a build rendered famous by the

achievements of the "America," at Cowes, lay on the water like a duck,

with her canvas white as snow, and taut as a deal board. The perfect

ease and nonchalance of the young pilot amused me immensely, and all

went on smoothly enough till the shades of evening closed in upon us; at

which time, entering the Narrows, the satin-vested youth felt himself

quite nonplused, despite his taking off his beaver, and trying to

scratch for knowledge; in short, had it not been for Captain Harrison,

who is a first-rate seaman and navigator, as all who ever sail with him

are ready to testify, we might have remained out all night: fortunately,

his superior skill got us safe in, and no easy task I assure you is it,

either to find the channel, or to thread your way through hosts of

shipping, in one of these leviathan steamers.

I confess I formed a very low estimate of New York pilots, which was not

heightened by one of the mates showing me an embossed card, with his

address, which our pilot had presented to him, accompanied with an

invitation to come to a _soirée_. As the mystery was subsequently

solved, I had better give you the solution thereof at once, and not let

the corps of New York pilots lie under the ban of condemnation in your

minds as long as they did in mine. It turned out that the pert little

youth was not an authorized pilot, but merely schooling for it; and

that, when the steamer hove in sight, the true pilots were asleep, and

he would not allow them to be called, but quietly slipped away in the

boat, and came on board of us to try his 'prentice hand; the pilots of

New York are, I believe, a most able and efficient body of men.

Here I am, reader, at New York, a new country, a new hemisphere, and

pitch dark, save the lights reflected in the water from the town on

either side. All of a sudden a single toll of a bell, then another, and

from the lights in the windows you discover a large wooden house is

adrift. On inquiry, you ascertain it is merely one of their mammoth

ferry-boats; that is something to think of, so you go to bed at

midnight, and dream what it will really look like in the morning.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote C: I believe another lighthouse is to be erected on the proper

headland.]

CHAPTER II.

_The Land of Stars and Stripes._

The sun had aired the opening day before I appeared on deck. What a

scene! There was scarce a zephyr to ripple the noble Hudson, or the

glorious bay; the latter, land-locked save where lost in the distant

ocean; the former skirted by the great Babylon of America on one side,

and the lovely wooded banks of Hoboken on the other. The lofty western

hills formed a sharp yet graceful bend in the stream, round which a

fleet of small craft, with rakish hulls and snowy sails, were stealing

quietly and softly, like black swans with white wings; the stillness and

repose were only broken by the occasional trumpet blast of some giant

high-pressure steamer, as she dashed past them with lightning speed.

Suddenly a floating island appeared in the bend of the river; closer

examination proved it to be a steamer, with from twenty to twenty-five

large boats secured alongside, many of them laden at Buffalo, and coming

by the Erie Canal to the ocean. Around me was shipping of every kind and

clime; enormous ferry-boats radiating in all directions; forests of

masts along the wharves; flags of every colour and nation flying; the

dingy old storehouses of the wealthy Wall-street neighbourhood, and the

lofty buildings of the newer parts of the town; everything had something

novel in its character, but all was stamped with go-aheadism. This

glorious panorama, seen through the bright medium of a rosy morn and a

cloudless sky, has left an enjoyable impression which time can never

efface. But although everything was strange, I could not feel myself

abroad, so strong is the power of language.

Taking leave of our worthy and able skipper, we landed on the soil of

the giant Republic at Jersey city, where the wharves, &c., of the Cunard

line are established, they not having been able to procure sufficient

space on the New York side. The first thing we ran our heads against

was, of course, the Custom-house; but you must not imagine, gentle

reader, that a Custom-house officer in America is that mysterious

compound of detective police and high-bred ferret which you too often

meet with in the Old World. He did not consider it requisite to tumble

everything out on the floor, and put you to every possible

inconvenience, by way of exhibiting his importance; satisfied on that

point himself, he impressed you with it by simple courtesy, thus gaining

respect where the pompous inquisitive type of the animal would have

excited ill-will and contempt. Thank heaven, the increased

inter-communication, consequent upon steam-power, has very much

civilized that, until lately, barbarian portion of the European family;

nor do I attempt to deny that the contiguity of the nations, and the far

greater number of articles paying duty, facilitating and increasing

smuggling, render a certain degree of ferretishness a little more

requisite on the part of the operator, and a little more patience

requisite on the part of the victim.

A very few minutes polished our party off, and found us on board of the

ferry-boat; none of your little fiddling things, where a donkey-cart and

an organ-boy can hardly find standing-room, but a good clear

hundred-feet gangway, twelve or fourteen feet broad, on each side of the

engine, and a covered cabin outside each gangway, extending half the

length of the vessel; a platform accommodating itself to the rise and

fall of the water, enables you to drive on board with perfect ease,

while the little kind of basin into which you run on either side, being

formed of strong piles fastened only at the bottom, yields to the vessel

as she strikes, and entirely does away with any concussion. I may here

add, that during my whole travels in the States, I found nothing more

perfect in construction and arrangement than the ferries and their

boats, the charges for which are most moderate, varying according to

distances, and ranging from one halfpenny upwards.

It is difficult to say what struck me most forcibly on landing at New

York; barring the universality of the Saxon tongue, I should have been

puzzled to decide in what part of the world I was. The forest of masts,

and bustle on the quays, reminded me of the great sea-port of Liverpool:

but scarce had I left the quays, when the placards of business on the

different stories reminded me of Edinburgh. A few minutes more, and I

passed one of their large streets, justly called "Avenues," the rows of

trees on each side reminding me of the _Alamedas_ in the Spanish towns;

but the confusion of my ideas was completed when the hackney coach was

brought to a standstill, to allow a huge railway carriage to cross our

bows, the said carriage being drawn by four horses, and capable of

containing fifty people.

At last, with my brain in a whirl, I alighted at Putnam's hotel, where

my kind friend, Mr. W. Duncan, had prepared rooms for our party; nor did

his zeal in our behalf stop here, for he claimed the privilege of being

the first to offer hospitality, and had already prepared a most

excellent spread for us at the far-famed _Café Delmonico_, where we

found everything of the best: oysters, varying from the "native" size up

to the large American oyster, the size of a small leg of Welsh

mutton--mind, I say a small leg--the latter wonderful to look at, and

pleasant to the taste, though far inferior to the sweet little "native."

Here I saw for the first time a fish called "the sheep's head," which is

unknown, I believe, on our side of the Atlantic. It derives its name

from having teeth exactly like those of a sheep, and is a most excellent

fish wherewith to console themselves for the want of the turbot, which

is never seen in the American waters. Reader, I am not going to inflict

upon you a bill of fare; I merely mention the giant oyster and the

sheep's head, because they are peculiar to the country; and if nearly my

first observations on America are gastronomic, it is not because I

idolize my little interior, though I confess to having a strong

predilection in favour of its being well supplied; but it is because

during the whole time I was in the United States,--from my friend D.,

who thus welcomed me on my arrival, to Mr. R. Phelps, in whose house

I lived like a tame cat previous to re-embarking for old

England,--wherever I went I found hospitality a prominent feature in the

American character.

Having enjoyed a very pleasant evening, and employed the night in

sleeping off the fumes of sociability, I awoke, for the first time, in

one of the splendid American hotels; and here, perhaps, it may be as

well to say a few words about them, as their enormous size makes them

almost a national peculiarity.

The largest hotel in New York, when I arrived, was the Metropolitan, in

the centre of which is a theatre; since then, the St. Nicholas has been

built, which is about a hundred yards square, five stories high, and

will accommodate, when completed, about a thousand people. Generally

speaking, a large hotel has a ladies' entrance on one side, which is

quite indispensable, as the hall entrance is invariably filled with

smokers; all the ground floor front, except this hall and a

reading-room, is let out as shops: there are two dining-saloons, one of

which is set apart for ladies and their friends, and to this the vagrant

bachelor is not admitted, except he be acquainted with some of the

ladies, or receive permission from the master of the house. The great

entrance is liberally supplied with an abundance of chairs, benches,

&c., and decorated with capacious spittoons, and a stove which glows

red-hot in the winter. Newspapers, of the thinnest substance and the

most microscopic type, and from every part of the Union, are scattered

about in profusion; the human species of every kind may be seen

variously occupied--groups talking, others roasting over the stove, many

cracking peanuts, many more smoking, and making the pavement, by their

united labours, an uncouth mosaic of expectoration and nutshells, varied

occasionally with cigar ashes and discarded stumps. Here and there you

see a pair of Wellington-booted legs dangling over the back of one

chair, while the owner thereof is supporting his centre of gravity on

another. One feature is common to them all--busy-ness; whether they are

talking, or reading, or cracking nuts, a peculiar energy shows the mind

is working. Further inside is the counter for the clerks who appoint the

rooms to the travellers, as they enter their names in a book; on long

stools close by is the corps of servants, while in full sight of all

stands the "Annunciator," that invaluable specimen of American

mechanical ingenuity, by which, if any bell is pulled in any room, one

loud stroke is heard, and the number of the room disclosed, in which

state it remains until replaced; so that if everybody had left the hall,

the first person returning would see at once what bells had been rung

during his absence, and the numbers of the rooms they belonged to. Why

this admirable contrivance has not been introduced into this country, I

cannot conceive.

The bar is one of the most--if not the most--important departments in

the hotel; comparatively nothing is drunk at dinner, but the moment the

meal is over, the bar becomes assailed by applicants; moreover, from

morning to midnight, there is a continuous succession of customers; not

merely the lodgers and their friends, but any parties passing along the

street, who feel disposed, walk into the bar of any hotel, and get "a

drink." The money taken at a popular bar in the course of a day is, I

believe, perfectly fabulous.

Scarcely less important than the bar is the barber's shop. Nothing

struck me more forcibly than an American under the razor or brush: in

any and every other circumstance of life full of activity and energy,

under the razor or brush he is the picture of indolence and

helplessness. Indifferent usually to luxury, he here exhausts his

ingenuity to obtain it; shrinking usually from the touch of a nigger as

from the venomed tooth of a serpent, he here is seen resigning his nose

to the digital custody of that sable operator, and placing his throat at

his mercy, or revelling in titillary ecstasy from his manipulations with

the hog's bristles;--all this he enjoys in a semi-recumbent position,

obtained from an easy chair and a high stool, wherein he lies

with a steadiness which courts prolongation--life-like, yet

immoveable--suggesting the idea of an Egyptian corpse newly embalmed.

Never shaving myself more than once a fortnight, and then requiring no

soap and water, and having cut my own hair for nearly twenty years, I

never thought of going through the experiment, which I have since

regretted; for, many a time and oft have I stood, in wonder, gazing at

this strange anomaly of character, and searching in vain for a first

cause. The barber's shop at the St. Nicholas is the most luxurious in

New York, and I believe every room has its own brush, glass, &c.,

similarly numbered in the shop.

The crowning peculiarity of the new hotels is "The Bridal Chamber;" the

want of delicacy that suggested the idea is only equalled by the want of

taste with which it is carried out. Fancy a modest girl, having said

"Yes," and sealed the assertion in the solemn services of the Church,

retiring to the bridal chamber of the St. Nicholas! In the first place,

retiring to an hotel would appear to her a contradiction in terms; but

what would be her feelings when she found the walls of her apartment

furnished with fluted white silk and satin, and in the centre of the

room a matrimonial couch, hung with white silk curtains, and blazing

with a bright jet of gas from each bed-post! The doors of the

sleeping-rooms are often fitted with a very ingenious lock, having a

separate bolt and keyhole on each side, totally disconnected, and

consequently, as they can only be opened from the same side they are

fastened, no person, though possessed of a skeleton key, is able to

enter. The ominous warning, "Lock your door at night," which is usually

hung up, coupled with the promiscuous society frequently met in large

hotels, renders it most advisable to use every precaution.

Many hotels have a Bible in each bed-room, the gift of some religious

community in the city; those that I saw during my travels were most

frequently from the Presbyterians.

Having given you some details of an American first-class hotel in a

large city, you will perhaps be better able to realize the gigantic

nature of these establishments when I tell you that in some of them,

during the season, they consume, in one way and another, DAILY, from

fifteen hundred to two thousand pounds of meats, and from forty-five to

fifty pounds of tea, coffee, &c., and ice by the ton, and have a corps

of one hundred and fifty servants of all kinds. Washing is done in the

hotel with a rapidity little short of marvellous. You can get a shirt

well washed, and ready to put on, in nearly the same space of time as an

American usually passes under the barber's hands. The living at these

hotels is profuse to a degree, but, generally speaking, most

disagreeable: first, because the meal is devoured with a rapidity which

a pack of fox-hounds, after a week's fast, might in vain attempt to

rival; and, secondly, because it is impossible to serve up dinners for

hundreds without nine-tenths thereof being cold. The best of the large

hotels I dined at in New York, as regards _cuisine_, &c., was decidedly

the New York Hotel; but by far the most comfortable was the one I lived

in--Putnam's, Union-square--which was much smaller and quite new,

besides being removed from the racket of Broadway.

The increased intercourse with this country is evidently producing a

most improving effect in many of the necessary and unmentionable

comforts of this civilized age, which you find to predominate chiefly in

those cities that have most direct intercourse with us; but as you go

further west, these comforts are most disagreeably deficient. One point

in which the hotels fail universally is attendance; it is their

misfortune, not their fault; for the moment a little money is realized

by a servant, he sets up in some business, or migrates westward. The

consequence is, that the field of service is left almost entirely to the

Irish and the negro, and between the two--after nearly a year's

experience thereof--I am puzzled to say in whose favour the balance is.

I remember poor Paddy, one morning, having answered the Household

Brigade man's bell, was told to get some warm water. He went away, and

forgot all about it. Of course, the bell rang again; and, on Paddy

answering it, he was asked--

"Did I not tell you to get me some warm water?"

"You did, your honour."

"Then, why have you not brought it?"

"Can't tell, your honour."

"Well, go and get it at once."

Paddy left the room, and waited outside the door scratching his head. In

about a quarter of an hour a knock was heard:--

"Come in!"

Paddy's head appeared, and, with a most inquiring voice, he said--

"Is it warm water to dhrink you want, your honour?" _Ex uno_, &c.

Another inconvenience in their hotels is the necessity of either living

at the public table, or going to the enormous expense of private rooms;

the comfort of a quiet table to yourself in a coffee-room is quite

unknown. There is no doubt that sitting down at a table-d'hôte is a

ready way to ascertain the manners, tone of conversation, and, partly,

the habits of thought, of a nation, especially when, as in the United

States, it is the habitual resort of everybody; but truth obliges me to

confess that, after a very short experience of it, I found the old adage

applicable, "A little of it goes a great way;" and I longed for the

cleanliness, noiselessness, and comfort of an English coffee-room,

though its table be not loaded with equal variety and profusion.

The American system is doubtless the best for the hotelkeeper, as there

are manifest advantages in feeding masses at once, over feeding the same

number in detail. A mess of twenty officers, on board a man-of-war, will

live better on two pounds each a month than one individual could on

three times that sum. It is the want of giving this difference due

consideration which raises, from time to time, a crusade against the

hotels at home, by instituting comparisons with those of the United

States. If people want to have hotels as cheap as they are in America,

they must use them as much, and submit to fixed hours and a mixture of

every variety of cultivation of mind and cleanliness of person--which

change is not likely, I trust, to take place in my day. It is a curious

fact, that when the proprietor of the Adelphi, at Liverpool--in

consequence of a remonstrance made by some American, gentlemen as to his

charges--suggested to them that they should name their own hour and dine

together, in which case his charges would be greatly diminished, they

would not hear of such a thing, and wanted to know why they should be

forced to dine either all together, or at one particular hour. An

American gentleman, with whom I am acquainted, told me that, when he

first came over to England, the feeling of solitude, while breakfasting

alone, at his table in Morley's coffee-room, was quite overpowering.

"Now," he added, "I look forward to my quiet breakfast and the paper

every morning with the greatest pleasure, and only wonder how I can have

lived so long, and been so utterly ignorant of such simple enjoyment." I

have thought it better to make these observations thus early, although

it must be obvious they are the results of my subsequent experience, and

I feel I ought to apologize for their lengthiness.

There is comparatively little difficulty in finding your way about New

York, or, indeed, most American towns, except it be in the old parts

thereof, which are as full of twists, creeks, and names as our own. The

newer part of the town is divided into avenues running nearly parallel

with the Hudson; the streets cross them at right angles, and both are

simply numbered; the masses of buildings which these sections form are

very nearly uniform in area, and are termed blocks. The great place for

lounging, or loafing, as they term it--is Broadway, which may be said to

bisect New York longitudinally; the shops are very good, but, generally

speaking, painfully alike, wearying the eye with sameness, when the

novelty has worn off: the rivalry which exists as to the _luxe_ of

fitting up some of these shops is inconceivable.

I remember going into an ice-saloon, just before I embarked for England;

the room on the ground-floor was one hundred and fifty feet long by

forty broad; rows of pillars on each side were loaded to the most

outrageous extent with carving and gilding, and the ceiling was to

match; below that was another room, a little smaller, and rather less

gaudy; both were crowded with the most tag-rag and bob-tail mixture of

people.

The houses are built of brick, and generally have steps up to them, by

which arrangement the area receives much more light; and many people

with very fine large houses live almost exclusively in these basements,

only using the other apartments for some swell party: the better class

of houses, large hotels, and some of the shops, have their fronts faced

with stone of a reddish brown, which has a warm and pleasant appearance.

The famous "Astor House" is faced with granite, and the basement is of

solid granite. The most remarkable among the new buildings is the

magnificent store of Mr. Stewart--one of the largest, I believe, in the

world: it has upwards of one hundred and fifty feet frontage on

Broadway, and runs back nearly the same distance: is five stories high,

besides the basement; its front is faced with white marble, and it

contains nearly every marketable commodity except eatables. If you want

anything, in New York, except a dinner, go to Stewart's, and it is ten

to one you find it, and always of the newest kind and pattern; for this

huge establishment clears out every year, and refills with everything of

the newest and best. Goods are annually sold here to the amount of

upwards of a million sterling--a sum which I should imagine was hardly

exceeded by any establishment of a similar nature except Morison's in

London, which, I believe, averages one and a half million. Some idea of

the size of this store may be formed, from the fact that four hundred

gas burners are required to light it up. Mr. Stewart, I was informed,

was educated for a more intellectual career than the keeper of a store,

on however grand a scale; but circumstances induced him to change his

pursuits, and as he started with scarce any capital, the success which

has attended him in business cannot but make one regret that the world

has lost the benefit which might have been anticipated from the same

energy and ability, if it had been applied to subjects of a higher

class.

I will now offer a few observations on the state of the streets. The

assertion has been made by some writer--I really know not who--that New

York is one of the dirtiest places in the world. To this I must give a

most unqualified denial. No person conversant with many of the large

provincial towns in England and Scotland, can conscientiously "throw a

very large stone" at New York; for though much is doing among us to

improve and sweeten--chiefly, thanks to the scourge of epidemics--I fear

that in too many places we are still on this point "living in glass

houses." Doubtless, New York is infinitely dirtier than London, as

London at present is far less clean than Paris has become under the rule

of the Third Napoleon. I fully admit that it is not so clean as it

should be, considering that the sum nominally spent on cleansing the

streets amounts to very nearly sixty thousand pounds a year, a sum equal

to one pound for every ten inhabitants; but the solution of this problem

must be looked for in the system of election to the corporation offices,

on which topic I propose to make a few observations in some future

portion of these pages. While on the subject of streets, I cannot help

remarking that it always struck me as very curious that so intelligent a

people as the Americans never adopted the simple plan of using sweeping

carts, which many of their countrymen must have seen working in London.

If not thoroughly efficient, their ingenuity might have made them so;

and, at all events, they effect a great saving of human labour. But

there is a nuisance in the streets of New York, especially in the lower

and business part of the town, which must be palpable to every

visitor--I mean the obstructions on the pavement; and that, be it

observed, in spite of laws passed for the prevention thereof, but

rendered nugatory from maladministration. In many places, you will see a

man occupying the whole pavement opposite his store with leviathan boxes

and bales, for apparently an indefinite period, inasmuch as I have seen

the same things occupying the same place day after day, and forcing

every passer-by off the pavement. This information may console some of

our own communities who are labouring under the gnawing and painful

disease of a similar corrupt and inefficient administration.

Amid the variety of shops, the stranger cannot fail to be struck with

the wonderful number of oyster-saloons stuck down on the basement, and

daguerreotypists perched in the sky-line: their name is legion;

everybody eats oysters, and everybody seems to take everybody else's

portrait. To such an extent is this mania for delineating the 'human

face divine' carried, that a hatter in Chatham-street has made no small

profit by advertising that, in addition to supplying hats at the same

price as his rivals, he will take the portrait of the purchaser, and fix

it inside thereof gratis. This was too irresistible; so off I went, and,

selecting my two dollar beaver on the ground-floor, walked up to a six

foot square garret room, where the sun did its work as quick as light,

after which the liberal artist, with that flattering propensity which

belongs to the profession, threw in the roseate hues of youth by the aid

of a little brick-dust. I handed him my dust in return, and walked away

with myself on my head, where myself may still be daily seen, a

travelled and travelling advertisement of Chatham-street enterprise.

Our American friends deal largely in newspaper puffs, and as some of

them are amusing enough, I select the following as specimens of their

"Moses and Son" style:--

ANOTHER DREADFUL ACCIDENT.--OH, MA! I MET WITH A DREADFUL

ACCIDENT!--The other night, while dancing with cousin Frank, I dropped

my Breastpin and Ear-Ring on the floor and broke them all to

pieces--Never mind, my dear. Just take them to ---- Jewellery

Store. You can get them made as good as new again!

GRATIFYING NEWS.--We have just learned, with real pleasure, that the

_seedy_ young man who sprained his back whilst trying to "raise the

wind" is fast recovering, in consequence of judiciously applying the

Mustang Liniment. It is to be hoped he will soon be entirely cured,

and that the next time he undertakes it, he will take an _upright_

position, and not adopt the _stooping_ posture. This precaution, we

have no doubt, will ensure success.

This Liniment can be had of ----.

Even, marriage and death are not exempt from the fantastic advertising

style.

On Friday, June 10, by the Rev. Mr. ----, after a severe and

long-protracted courtship, which they bore with Christian fortitude

and resignation, solely sustained and comforted, under all misgivings,

by their sincere and confiding belief in the promise of a rich, and

living inheritance in another state, Mr. ---- to Miss ----, all of this

city.

On April 4, of congestion of the brain, F---- E----, son of J---- and

M---- C. D----, aged fourteen months.

His remains were taken to G---- for interment yesterday.

List! heard you that angel say,

As he waved his little wing,

"Come, Freddy, come away,

Learn of me a song to sing!"

The most gigantic advertiser--if the _New York Daily Sun_ is to be

trusted for information--is Professor Holloway, so well known in this

country. According to that paper, he advertises in thirteen hundred

papers in the United States, and has expended, in different parts of the

world, the enormous sum of nearly half a million sterling, solely for

that purpose.

But, reader, there are more interesting objects to dwell upon than

these. If you will only "loaf" up and down Broadway on a fine afternoon,

you will see some of the neatest feet, some of the prettiest hands, some

of the brightest eyes, and some of the sweetest smiles the wildest

beauty-dreamer ever beheld in his most rapturous visions; had they but

good figures, they would excite envy on the Alamedas of Andalusia; in

short, they are the veriest little ducks in the world, and dress with

Parisian perfection. No wonder, then, reader, when I tell you that

"loafing" up and down Broadway is a favourite occupation with the young

men who have leisure hours to spare. So attractive did my young friend

of the Household Brigade find it, that it was with difficulty he was

ever induced to forego his daily pilgrimage. Alas! poor fellow, those

days are gone--he has since been "caught," and another now claims his

undivided adoration.

CHAPTER III.

_Sights and Amusements_.

There is a very pleasant yacht club at New York, the festive assembly

whereof is held at Hoboken. Having received a hospitable invite, I

gladly availed myself of it, and, crossing the Hudson, a short walk

brought me and my chaperon to the club-house--no palatial edifice, but a

rustic cottage, with one large room and a kitchen attached, and

beautifully situated a few yards from the water's edge, on the woody

bank of Hoboken, and on one of the most graceful bends of the river. It

commands a splendid view, while perfectly cozy in itself, and is, "par

excellence," the place for a pic-nic. The property belongs to Commodore

Stevens, who is well known to English yachting gentlemen, not only from

his having "taken the shine out of them" at Cowes, but also for his

amiability and hospitality.

On my arrival, I found a host of bachelors, and wedded men _en garçon_,

ready to greet me with a hearty welcome. The room was very comfortable,

but as unfurnished as those who like to smoke could desire; in fact,

barring the table and its burden, the chairs and their occupiers, the

remainder of the furniture consisted of models of all the yachts of the

club. The only exception was that of the Commodore's triumphant "Black

Maria," of which extraordinary vessel I purpose speaking more fully

hereafter. One of the peculiar customs of the club is, that two members,

whose capabilities are beyond dispute, are appointed, one to make the

soup, called "chowder," the other the punch--or "toddy," as it is here

termed,--both of these being excellent in their way, and different in

many respects from any similar article at home. The proper recipe for

the same shall be forthcoming when I give details of the "Black Maria."

Our party was a very jovial one, as I think parties generally are when

composed of those who are much _on_ the water. Such people naturally

look upon a leak as very lubberly and unprofessional, and therefore

scrupulously avoid letting _in_ any water, supplying its place with

something more cheery, under the enlivening influence whereof, those who

would be puzzled to decide whether a hand-organ was playing "Hail,

Columbia!" or "Pop goes the Weasel," lose all false modesty as to their

musical powers, and become royally (I beg majesty's pardon) vocal.

Choruses receive the additional charm of variety from each vocalist

giving his tongue "universal suffrage" as to power, matter, and melody;

everybody evinces a happy independence, and if, as the chorus is

beginning, an unlucky wight finds his cigar just going out, he takes a

few puffs to save the precious fire, and then starts off Derby pace to

catch up his vocal colleagues, blending ten notes into one in his

frantic chase.

To any one who delights in the opera, this description might suggest a

slight idea of discord, but to one who has enjoyed a midshipman's berth

it recals some of the cheeriest days of his life; as I heard the joyous

shouts, I felt my grey lank hairs getting black and curly again (?). Do

not imagine this merry scene was the produce of any excess; we were as

sober as judges, though we felt their gravity would have been out of

place; but when some choice spirit--and there was more than one

such--with the soul of melody in him, took the field, we left him to

make all the running himself, and smoked our cigars with increased

vigour, shrouding him in the curling cloud to prevent any nervous

hesitation.

Everything, however, must have an end, and as the hour for the last

ferry-boat was fast approaching, the voice of melody was hushed in the

hall, to echo through the groves of Hoboken and o'er the waters of the

Hudson, as we strolled from the club-house to the ferry, and thence to

bed.

Among other "lions" to be seen, my curiosity was excited by the news of

a trotting match, to come off at Long Island: some friend was ever

ready, so off we started for Brooklyn Ferry, whence we went by railway.

In the olden time these races were as fashionable at New York as Ascot

or Epsom are in England; all the _élite_ of both sexes filled the stand,

and the whole scene was lively and gay. Various circumstances, which all

who know the turf are aware it is liable to, rendered gentlemen so

disgusted with it at Long Island, that they discontinued sending horses

to run, and gradually gave up going themselves, and it is now left all

but entirely to the "rowdies,"--_alias_ mob.

The railway carriage into which we got contained about forty of these

worthies, all with cigars in their mouths, and exhibiting many strange

varieties of features and costume. In the passage up and down the middle

of the carriage; ragged juvenile vendors of lollipops and peanuts kept

patrolling and crying out their respective goods, for which they found a

ready market; suddenly another youth entered, and, dispensing a fly-leaf

right and left as he passed along to each passenger, disappeared at the

other door. At first, I took him for an itinerant advertiser of some

Yankee "Moses and Son," or of some of those medicinal quacks who strive

to rob youth by lies calculated to excite their fears. Judge my

astonishment, then, when on looking at the paper, I found it was hymns

he was distributing. A short ride brought us close to the course, and,

as I alighted, there was the active distributor freely dispensing on

every side, everybody accepting, many reading, but all hurrying on to

the ground.

Having paid a good round sum as entrance to the stand, I was rather

disappointed at nearly breaking my neck, when endeavouring to take

advantage of my privilege, for my foot well-nigh went through a hole in

the flooring. Never was anything more wretched-looking in this world. It

was difficult to believe, that a few years back, this stand had been

filled with magnates of the "upper ten thousand" and stars of beauty:

there it was before me, with its broken benches, scarce a whole plank in

the floor, and wherever there was one, it was covered with old cigar

stumps, shells of peanuts, orange-peel, &c. When, however, I found that

seven people constituted the number of spectators in the stand, its

dilapidation was more easily explained, especially when I discovered

that access, with a little activity, was easily obtainable at the sides

_gratis_--a fact soon proved by the inroad of a few "rowdies," and the

ubiquitous vendors of lollipops and peanuts, headed by the persevering

distributor of hymns.

Let us turn now from the dreary stand to the scene below. The

race-course is a two-mile distance, perfectly level, on a smooth and

stoneless road, and forming a complete circle--light trotting waggons

are driving about in the centre, taking it easy at sixteen miles an

hour; outside are groups of "rowdies." making their hooks and looking

out for greenhorns--an article not so readily found at Long Island as at

Epsom.

The race is to be "under the saddle," and the long list of competitors

which had been announced has dwindled down to the old and far-famed Lady

Suffolk and the young and unfamed Tacony.

A stir among the "rowdies" is seen, followed by the appearance "on the

boards" of Lady Suffolk. I gazed in wonder as I saw her--a small

pony-looking animal--moving her legs as though they were in splints, and

as if six miles an hour was far beyond her powers; soon after, Tacony

came forward, the picture of a good bony post-horse, destitute of any

beauty, but looking full of good stuff. The riders have no distinctive

dress; a pair of Wellington boots are pulled on outside the trousers,

sharp spurs are on the heels--rough and ready looking birds these. The

winning-post is opposite the stand, the umpire is there with a deal

board in his hand, a whack on the side of the stand "summons to horse,"

and another summons to "start." The start is from the distance-post, so

as to let the horses get into the full swing of their pace by the time

they reach the winning-post, when, if they are fairly up together, the

cry "Off" is given; if it be not given, they try again. When speaking of

the time in which the mile is completed, the fact of its commencing at

full speed should always be borne in mind: sometimes false starts are

made by one party, on purpose to try and irritate the temper of the

adversary's horse; and in the same way, if a man feels he has full

command of his own horse, he will yell like a wild Indian, as he nears

his adversary, to make him "break up"--or go into a gallop; and, as they

are all trained to speed more by voice than by spur, he very often

succeeds, and of course the adversary loses much ground by pulling up

into a trot again.

On the present occasion there was no false start; the echo of the second

whack was still in the car as they reached the winning-post neck and

neck. "Off" was the word, and away they went. It certainly was

marvellous to see how dear old Lady Suffolk and her stiff legs flew

round the course; one might have fancied she had been fed on lightning,

so quick did she move them, but with wonderfully short steps. Tack, on

the contrary, looked as if he had been dieted on India-rubber balls:

every time he raised a hind leg it seemed to shoot his own length a-head

of himself; if he could have made his steps as quick as the old lady, he

might have done a mile in a minute nearly. Presently, Tacony breaks up,

and, ere he pulls into a trot, a long gap is left. Shouts of "Lady

Suffolk, Lady Suffolk wins!" rend the air; a few seconds more, and the

giant strides of Tacony lessen the gap at every step: they reach the

distance-post neck and neck; "Tacony wins!" is the cry, and true enough

it is--by a length. Young blood beats old blood--India-rubber balls

"whip" lightning. Time, five minutes.

The usual excitement and disputing follow, the usual time elapses--whack

number one is heard, all ready--whack number two, on they come, snaffle

bridles, pulling at their horses' mouths as though they would pull the

bit right through to the tips of their tails. "Off" is the cry: away

they go again; Tacony breaks up--again a gap, which huge strides

speedily close up--again Tacony wins. Time, five minutes five seconds.

All is over, rush to the cars, &c. Remarks:--first, the pace is at the

rate of twenty-four miles an hour; second, the clear old lady, who was

only beaten by a length, is long out of her teens; is it not wonderful,

and is she not glorious in her defeat? Fancy Dowager Lady L---- taking a

pedestrian fit, and running a race along Rotten Row with some "fast

young man;" what would you say, if she clutched his coat-tail as he

touched the winning-post? Truly, that dear old Lady Suffolk is a

marvellous quadruped. Reader, as you do not care to go back again with

the Rowdies and Co., we will suppose ourselves returned to New York, and

I can only hope you have not been bored with your day's amusement.

Among the extraordinary fancies of this extraordinary race--who are ever

panting for something new, even if it be a new territory--the most

strange is the metallic coffin: the grave is no protection against their

mania for novelty. In the windows of a shop in Broadway, this strange,

and to my mind revolting, article may be seen, shaped like a mummy,

fitting hermetically tight, and with a plate of glass to reveal the

features of the inanimate inmate. I have certainly read of the

disconsolate lover who, on the death of her who ungratefully refused to

reciprocate his affection, disinterred her body by stealth, supplied

himself with scanty provision, and embarking in a small boat, launched

forth upon the wide waters, to watch her gradual decomposition till

starvation found them one common grave. I also knew an officer, who,

having stuffed an old and faithful dog, and placed him on the

mantel-piece, when his only child died soon after, earnestly entreated a

surgeon to stuff the child, that he might place it beside the faithful

dog. Nevertheless, I cannot believe that such aberrations of human

intellect are sufficiently frequent to make the Patent Metallic Coffin

Company a popular or profitable affair.

An important feature in a populous town is the means of conveyance,

which here, in addition to hack cabs and omnibuses, includes railway

carriages. I would observe, once for all, that the horses of America, as

a whole, may be classed as enduring, wiry, and active hacks. You do not

see anything to compare with some of the beautiful nags that "Rotten

Row" or Melton exhibits; but, on the other hand, you rarely see the

lumbering, lolloping, heavy brutes so common in this country. Then,

again, a horse in this country is groomed and turned out in a style

which I never saw in America, and therefore shows to much greater

advantage, in spite of the Yankee sometimes ornamenting his head with

hairs from his tail; while on the other hand, though an Englishman

considers a pair of nags that will go a mile in five minutes a great

prize, no man in America who is a horse fancier would look at a pair

that could not do the same distance in four; nor would he think them

worth speaking about, if they could not do the distance in a very few

seconds over three minutes. On one side of the water, pace is almost the

only object; on the other side, shape and appearance are weighty

matters.

The habits of the Americans being essentially gregarious, and business

teaching the truism that a cent saved is a cent gained, hackney coaches

are comparatively little used by the men; for it must be remembered that

idlers in this country are an invisible minority of the community! The

natural consequence is, that they are clean and expensive. The drivers

are charmingly independent and undeniably free-and-easy birds, but not

meaning to be uncivil. One of them showed his independence by asking two

dollars one night for a three-mile drive home to the hotel. I inquired

of the master, and found the proper charge was a dollar and a half;

but, on my sending out the same, Jarvey was too proud to confess he was

wrong, and, refusing the money, drove off--nor did I ever hear more of

him.

Their free-and-easiness can never be better exemplified than in the old

anecdote told of so many people, from an ex-prince of France, downward;

viz., the prince having ordered a hack cab, was standing at the door of

the hotel, smoking his cigar, and waiting for its arrival. When Cabby

drove up, judging from the appearance of the prince that he was "the

fare," he said, "Are you the chap that sent for a cab?" And, being

answered with an affirmative smile, he said, "Well, get in; I guess I'm

the gentleman that's to drive you."

The next means of conveyance to be spoken of is the omnibus. I was told

by a friend who had made inquiries on the subject, that there were

upwards of a thousand, and that they pay twenty-two per cent. They are

infinitely better than ours, simply because they are broader: the most

rotund embodiment of an alderman after a turtle-soup dinner, even if he

had--to use the emphatic language of Mr. Weller--been "swellin'

wisibly," could pass up the centre without inconvenience to the

passengers on either side; and as a good dividend is a thing not to be

despised, they do not employ a "cad" behind. The door shuts by a strap

running along the roof, with a noose in the end, which Jehu puts on his

foot. Any one wishing to alight pulls the strap; Jehu stops; and, poking

his nose to a pigeon-hole place in the roof, takes the silver fare; and,

slipping the noose, the door is open to the human "fare." Doubtless,

this effects a very great saving, and, dispensing with a cad in this

country might enable the fares to be lowered; but I question if there be

not very many objections to our adopting the plan; and I should miss

very much that personification of pertness and civility, with his

inquisitive eye, and the eccentric and perpetual gyrations of his fore

finger, which ever and anon stiffens in a skyward point, as though under

the magic influence of some unseen electro-biologist whose decree had

gone forth--"You can't move your finger, sir, you can't; no, you can't."

I have only one grudge against the omnibuses in New York--and that is,

their monopoly of Broadway, which would really have a very fine and

imposing appearance were it not for them: they destroy all the

effect, and you gradually begin to think it is the Strand grown wider,

despite of the magnificent palaces, hotels, &c., which adorn it on each

side.

[Illustration: A RAILWAY CARRIAGE.]

The last means of conveyance to be mentioned is the railway carriage,

which--the city being built on a perfect flat--is admirably adapted for

locomotion. The rails are laid down in a broad avenue on each side of

Broadway, and the cars are drawn by horses, some two, some four. Those

that are used for the simple town business have only two horses, and

will hold about twenty-four passengers; the others run from the lower

end of the town to a place where the engine is waiting for them outside.

The town railway-car may be called a long omnibus, low on the wheels,

broad, airy, and clean inside, and, excessively convenient for getting

in and out. There is a break at both ends, one under the charge of Jehu,

the other under the charge of the guard; so that, though trotting along

at a good pace, they are very easily stopped. When they get to the end

of the journey, the horses change ends, thus avoiding the necessity of

any turning, the space required for which would have made a great

difference in the expense. For a busy, bustling city, on a flat, it is

unquestionably by far the best conveyance, on account of carrying so

many, and being so handy for ingress and egress.

There was a strong push made to get one laid down in Broadway, and

corporation jobbery had nearly succeeded. For my own part, did I live in

Broadway, if they would lay down a single line of rail, with shunters at

intervals, to enable the cars to pass one another, and fix regular hours

for running, I should infinitely prefer it to the unlimited army of

omnibuses that now block up the street; but I fancy the interests of the

latter are too deeply involved to be readily resigned.

Before leaving the subject of railway carriages, I may as well give you

a description of the travelling cars in ordinary use.

They are forty-two feet long, nine and a half wide, from six to six and

a half feet high, and carry from fifty to sixty passengers. Each seat is

three feet four inches long, placed at right angles to the window, and

has a reversible back. There is a passage through the centre of the car,

between the rows of seats. In winter, a stove is always burning in each

carriage; and in one of them there is generally a small room

partitioned off, containing a water-closet, &c. A door is placed at

each extremity, outside which there is a platform whereon the break is

fixed. These carriages are supported at each end by four wheels, of

thirty-three inches diameter, fitted together in a frame-work, and

moving on a pivot, whereby to enable them to take more easily any sharp

bend in the road. Their weight is from ten to twelve tons, and their

cost from 400l. to 450l. sterling. The system of coupling adopted is

alike rude and uncomfortable; instead of screwing the carriages tightly

up against the buffers, as is the practice in England, they are simply

hooked together, thus subjecting the passengers to a succession of jerks

when starting, and consequently producing an equal number of concussions

when the train stops.

From the foregoing sketch, it will be seen that the narrowness of the

seats is such as to prevent its two occupants--if of ordinary

dimensions--from sitting together without rubbing shoulders. It will

also be observed, that the passage through the centre of the carriages

enables any one to pass with ease throughout the whole length of the

train. This is a privilege of which the mercurial blood and inquisitive

mind of the American take unlimited advantage, rendering the journey one

continued slamming of doors, which, if the homoeopathic principle be

correct, would prove an infallible cure for headache, could the sound

only be triturated, and passed through the finest sieve, so as to reach

the tympanum in infinitesimal doses. But, alas! it is administered

wholesale, and with such power, that almost before the ear catches the

sound, it is vibrating in the tendon Achilles. It is said by some, that

salmon get accustomed to crimping; and I suppose that, in like manner,

the American tympanum gets accustomed to this abominable clatter and

noise.

The luggage-van is generally placed between the carriages and the

engine. And here it is essential I should make some observations with

reference to the ticket system which is universally adopted in America.

Every passenger is furnished with brass tickets, numbered, and a

duplicate is attached to each article of luggage. No luggage is

delivered without the passenger producing the ticket corresponding to

that on the article claimed, the Company being responsible for any loss.

This system is peculiarly suited to the habits of the American

people, inasmuch as nine-tenths of them, if not more, upon arriving at

the end of their journey, invariably go to some hotel; and as each

establishment, besides providing an omnibus for the convenience of its

customers, has an agent ready to look after luggage, the traveller has

merely to give his ticket to that functionary, thus saving himself all

further trouble.

[Illustration: THE LOCOMOTIVE.]

The last, but not the least important, object connected with railways,

remains yet to be mentioned--viz., the locomotive. Its driving-wheels

are generally six feet and a half in diameter, the cylinder is sixteen

inches in diameter, and has a stroke of twenty-two inches. But the point

to which I wish to call especial attention, is the very sensible

provision made for the comfort of the engineer and stokers, who are

thoroughly protected by a weather-proof compartment, the sides whereof,

being made of glass, enable them to exercise more effective vigilance

than they possibly could do if they were exposed in the heartless manner

prevalent in this country.

From my subsequent experience in the railway travelling of the United

States, I am induced to offer the following suggestions for the

consideration of our legislature. First, for the protection of the old,

the helpless, or the desirous, an act should be passed, compelling every

railway company to supply tickets for luggage to each passenger applying

for them, provided that the said application be made within a given

period previous to the departure of the train; this ticket to insure the

delivery of the luggage at the proper station, and to the proper owner.

Secondly, an act compelling railway companies to afford efficient

protection from the weather to the engineer and stokers of every train,

holding the chairman and board of directors responsible in the heaviest

penalties for every accident that may occur where this simple and humane

provision is neglected.

Thirdly, an act requiring some system of communication between guard,

passengers, and engineer. The following rude method strikes me as so

obvious, that I wonder it has not been tried, until some better

substitute be found. Let the guard's seat project in all trains--as it

now does in some--beyond the carriages, thus enabling him to see the

whole length of one side of the train; carry the foot-board and the

hand-rail half way across the space between the carriages, by which

simple means the guard could walk outside from one end of the train to

the other, thus supervising everything, and gathering in the tickets _en

route_, instead of inconveniencing the public, as at present, by

detaining the train many minutes for that purpose.[D]

Next, fit every carriage with two strong metal pipes, running just over

the doors, and projecting a foot or so beyond the length of the

carriage, the end of the pipe to have a raised collar, by which means an

elastic gutta percha tube could connect the pipes while the carriages

were being attached; a branch tube of gutta percha should then be led

from the pipe on one side into each compartment, so that any passenger,

by blowing through it, would sound a whistle in the place appropriated

to the guard. On the opposite side, the pipes would be solely for

communication between the guard and engine-driver. Should the length of

any train be found too great for such communication, surely it were

better to sacrifice an extra guard's salary, than trifle with human life

in the way we have hitherto done. Each engine should have a second

whistle, with a trumpet tone, similar to that employed in America, to be

used in case of _danger_, the ordinary one being employed, as at

present, only to give warning of approach.

With these sagacious hints for the consideration of my countrymen, I

postpone for the present the subject of railways, and, in excuse for the

length of my remarks, have only to plead a desire to make railway

travelling in England more safe, and my future wanderings more

intelligible. I have much more to say with regard to New York and its

neighbourhood; but not wishing to overdose the reader at once, I shall

return to the subject in the pages, as I did to the place in my

subsequent travels.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote D: This power of supervision, on the part of the guard, might

also act as an effective check upon the operations of those swindling

gamblers who infest many of our railroads--especially the express trains

of the Edinburgh and Glasgow--in which, owing to no stoppage taking

place, they exercise their villanous calling with comparative impunity.]

CHAPTER IV.

_A Day on the North River_.

Early one fine morning in October, a four-seated fly might have been

seen at the door of Putnam's hotel, on the roof of which was being piled

a Babel of luggage, the inside being already full. Into another vehicle,

our party--i.e., three of us--entered, and ere long both the carriages

were on the banks of the river, where the steamer was puffing away,

impatient for a start. The hawsers were soon cast off, and we launched

forth on the bosom of the glorious Hudson, whose unruffled surface

blazed like liquid fire beneath the rays of the rising sun. I purposely

abstain from saying anything of the vessel, as she was an old one, and a

very bad specimen. The newer and better class of vessel, I shall have to

describe hereafter.

On leaving New York, the northern banks of the river are dotted in every

direction with neat little villas, the great want being turf, to which

the American climate is an inveterate foe. Abreast of one of these

villas, all around me is now smiling with peace and gladness; alas! how

different was the scene but a few months previous; then, struggling

bodies strewed the noble stream, and the hills and groves resounded with

the bitterest cries of human agony, as one of the leviathan steamers,

wrapped in a fierce and fiery mantle, hurried her living cargo to a

burning or a watery grave.

We had a motley collection of passengers, but were not overcrowded. Of

course, there was a Paddy on board. Where can one go without meeting one

of that migratory portion of our race! There he was, with his "shocking

bad hat," his freckled face, his bright eye, and his shrewd expression,

smoking his old "dudeen," and gazing at the new world around him. But

who shall say his thoughts were not in some wretched hovel in the land

of his birth, and his heart beating with the noble determination, that

when his industry met its reward, those who had shared his sorrows in

the crowded land of his fathers, should partake of his success in the

thinly-tenanted home of his adoption. Good luck to you, Paddy, with all

my heart!

I was rather amused by a story I heard, of a newly-arrived Paddy

emigrant, who, having got a little money, of course wanted a little

whisky. On going to the bar to ask the price, he was told

three-halfpence. "For how much?" quoth Paddy. The bottle was handed to

him, and he was told to take as much as he liked. Paddy's joy knew no

bounds at this liberality, and, unable to contain his ecstasy, he rushed

to the door to communicate the good news to his companions, which he did

in the following racy sentence: "Mike! Mike, my sowl! com' an' haf a

dhrink--only thruppence for both of us, an' the botthel in yer own

fisht!"

One unfortunate fellow on board had lost a letter of recommendation, and

was in great distress in consequence. I hope he succeeded in replacing

it better than a servant-girl is said to have done, under similar

circumstances, who--as the old story goes--having applied to the captain

of the vessel, received the following doubtful recommendation at the

hand of that functionary: "This is to certify that Kate Flannagan had a

good character when she embarked at New York, but she lost it on board

the steamer coming up. Jeremiah Peascod, Captain."

The scenery of the Hudson has been so well described, and so justly

eulogized, that I need say little on that score. In short, no words can

convey an adequate impression of the gorgeousness of the forest tints in

North America during the autumn. The foliage is inconceivably beautiful

and varied, from the broad and brightly dark purple leaf of the maple,

to the delicate and pale sere leaf of the poplar, all blending

harmoniously with the deep green of their brethren in whom the vital sap

still flows in full vigour. I have heard people compare the Hudson and

the Rhine. I cannot conceive two streams more totally dissimilar--the

distinctive features of one being wild forest scenery, glowing with

ever-changing hues, and suggestive of a new world; and those of the

other, the wild and craggy cliff capped with beetling fortresses, and

banks fringed with picturesque villages and towns, all telling of feudal

times and an old world. I should as soon think of comparing the castle

of Heidelberg, on its lofty hill with Buckingham Palace, in its

metropolitan hole.--But to return to the Hudson.

In various places you will see tramways from the top of the banks down

to the water; these are for the purpose of shooting down the ice, from

the lakes and ponds above, to supply the New York market. The ice-houses

are made on a slope, and fronting as much north as possible. They are

built of wood, and doubled, the space between which--about a foot and a

half--is filled with bark, tanned. In a bend of the river, I saw the

indications of something like the forming of a dock, or basin; and, on

inquiry, was told it was the work of a Company who imagined they had

discovered where the famous pirate Kidd had buried his treasure. The

Company found to their cost, that it was they who were burying their

treasure, instead of Captain Kidd who had buried his; so, having

realized their mare's-nest, they gave it up. One of the most beautiful

"bits" on the Hudson is West Point; but, as I purpose visiting it at my

leisure hereafter, I pass it by at present without further comment.

There are every now and then, especially on the southern bank, large

plots, which, at a distance, look exactly like Turkish cemeteries. On

nearing them, you find that the old destroyer, Time, has expended all

the soil sufficiently to allow the bare rock to peep through, and the

disconsolate forest has retired in consequence, leaving only the funeral

cypress to give silent expression to its affliction. Hark! what sound is

that? Dinner! A look at the company was not as _appétissant_ as a glass

of bitters, but a peep at the _tout-ensemble_ was fatal; so, patience to

the journey's end. Accordingly, I consoled myself with a cigar and the

surrounding scenery; no hard task either, with two good friends to help

you. On we went, passing little villages busy as bees, and some looking

as fresh as if they had been built over-night. At last, a little before

dusk, Albany hove in sight. As we neared the wharf, it became alive with

Paddy cabmen and porters of every age: the former, brandishing their

whips, made such a rush on board when we got within jumping distance,

that one would have thought they had come to storm the vessel. We took

it coolly, allowing the rush of passengers to land first; and then,

having engaged two "broths of boys" with hackney coaches, we drove up to

the Congress Hall Hotel, where, thanks to our young American cicerone,

we were very soon comfortably lodged, with a jolly good dinner before

us. I may as well explain why it was thanks to our friend that we were

comfortably lodged.

'Throughout the whole length and breadth of the Republic, the people are

gregarious, and go everywhere in flocks; consequently, on the arrival of

railway train or steamer, 'buses from the various hotels are always in

waiting, and speedily filled. No sooner does the 'bus pull up, than a

rush is made by each one to the book lying on the counter, that he may

inscribe his name as soon as possible, and secure a bedroom. The duty of

allotting the apartments generally devolves upon the head clerk, or

chief assistant; but as, from the locomotive propensities of the

population, he has a very extensive acquaintance, and knows not how soon

some of them may be arriving, he billets the unknown in the most

out-of-the-way rooms; for the run upon all the decent hotels is so

great, that courtesy is scarce needed to insure custom. Not that they

are uncivil; but the confusion caused by an arrival is so great, and the

mass of travellers are so indifferent to the comfort or the attention

which one meets with in a decent hotel in this country, that, acting

from habit, they begin by roosting their guests, like crows, at the top

of the tree.

To obviate this inconvenience, I would suggest, for the benefit of

future travellers, the plan I found on many occasions so successful

myself, in my subsequent journeys; which is, whenever you are

comfortably lodged in any hotel, to take a letter from the proprietor to

the next you wish to stop at. They give it you most readily, and on many

occasions I found the advantage of it. They all know one another; and in

this way you might travel all through the Union.

Dinner is over--the events of the day have been discussed 'mid fragrant

clouds, and we are asleep in the capital of the State of New York.

We were obliged to be astir early in the morning, so as to be in time

for the railway; consequently, our lionizing of the city consisted

chiefly in smoking a cigar at the front-door. The town is prettily

situated on the banks of the Hudson, and at its confluence with the Erie

canal. It is one of the few towns in the Republic which enjoys a

Royalist name, having been called after the Duke of York and Albany,

and is a very thriving place, with a steadily increasing population,

already amounting to sixty thousand; and some idea of its prosperity may

be formed from the fact of its receiving, by the Erie canal, annually,

goods to the value of near six millions sterling. Some years ago it was

scourged by an awful fire; but it has risen, like a phoenix, from its

ashes, and profited materially by the chastisement. The chief objection

I had to the town was the paving of the streets, which was abominable,

and full of holes, any of them large enough to bury a hippopotamus, and

threatening dislocation of some joint at every step; thus clearly

proving that the contract for the paving was in the hands of the

surgeons. On similar grounds, it has often occurred to me that the

proprietors of the London cabs must be chiefly hatters.

Our descent from the hotel to the railway station was as lively as that

of a parched pea on a red-hot frying-pan, but it was effected without

any injury requiring the assistance of the paving-surgeons, and by the

time our luggage was ticketed the train had arrived: some tumbled out,

others tumbled in; the kettle hissed, and off we went, the first few

hundred yards of our journey being along the street. Not being

accustomed to see a train going in full cry through the streets, I

expected every minute to hear a dying squeak, as some of the little

urchins came out, jumping and playing close to the cars; but they seem

to be protected by a kind of instinct; and I believe it would be as easy

to drive a train over a cock-sparrow as over a Yankee boy. At last we

emerged from the town, and went steaming away merrily over the country.

Our companions inside were a motley group of all classes. By good

fortune, we found a spare seat on which to put our cloaks, &c., which

was a luxury rarely enjoyed in my future travels, being generally

obliged to carry them on my knee, as the American cars are usually so

full that there is seldom a vacant place on which to lay them.

Our route lay partly along the line of the Mohawk, on the banks of which

is situated the lovely village of Rockton, or Little Falls, where the

gushing stream is compressed between two beautifully wooded cliffs,

affording a water-power which has been turned to good account by the

establishment of mills. At this point the Erie canal is cut for two

miles through the solid rock, and its unruffled waters, contrasting

with the boiling river struggling through the narrow gorge, look like

streams of Peace and Passion flowing and struggling side by side. As the

"iron horse" hurries us onward, the ears are assailed, amid the wild

majesty of Nature, with the puny cockneyisms of "Rome," "Syracuse," &c.

Such absurdities are ridiculous enough in our suburban villas; but to

find them substituted for the glorious old Indian names, is positively

painful.

Among other passengers in the train, was a man conspicuous among his

fellows for clean hide and clean dimity; on inquiry, I was told he was a

Professor. He looked rather young for a professorial chair, and further

investigation confused me still more, for I found he was a _Professor of

Soap_. At last, I ascertained that he had earned his title by going

about the country lecturing upon, and exhibiting in his person, the

valuable qualities of his detergent treasures, through which peripatetic

advertisement he had succeeded in realizing dollars and honours. The

oratory of some of these Professors is, I am told, of an order before

which the eloquence of a Demosthenes would shrink abashed, if success is

admitted as the test; for, only put them at the corner of a street in

any town, and I have no fears of binding myself to eat every cake they

do not sell before they quit their oratorical platform. The soapy orator

quitted the train at Auburn, and soon after, the vandalism of "Rome" and

"Syracuse" was atoned for by the more appropriate and euphonical old

Indian names of "Cayuga" and "Canandaigua."

On reaching the station of the latter, an old and kind friend to my

brother, when he first visited America, was waiting to welcome us to his

house, which was about a quarter of a mile distant, and a most

comfortable establishment it proved, in every way. Our worthy host was a

Scotchman by birth, and though he had passed nearly half a century in

the United States, he was as thoroughly Scotch in all his ways as if he

had just arrived from his native land; and while enjoying his

hospitalities, you might have fancied yourself in a Highland laird's old

family mansion. In all his kind attentions, he was most ably assisted by

his amiable lady. Everything I had seen hitherto was invested with an

air of newness, looking as if of yesterday: here, the old furniture and

the fashion thereof, even its very arrangement, all told of days long

bygone, and seemed to say, "We are heir-looms." When you went upstairs,

the old Bible on your bedroom table, with its worn cover, well-thumbed

leaves, and its large paper-mark, browned by the hand of Time, again

proclaimed, "I am an heir-loom," and challenged your respect; and worthy

companions they all were to mine host and his lady, who, while they

warmed your heart with their cheerful and unostentatious hospitality,

also commanded your respect by the way they dispensed it.

The following day our route lay across country, out of the line of stage

or rail; so a vehicle had to be got, which my young American cicerone,

under the guidance of mine host, very soon arranged; and in due time, a

long, slight, open cart, with the seats slung to the sides, drove to the

door, with four neat greys, that might have made "Tommy Onslow's" mouth

water.

While they are putting in the luggage, I may as well give you a sketch

of how the young idea is sometimes taught to shoot in this country.

Time--early morning. Paterfamilias at the door, smoking a cigar--a lad

of ten years of age appears.

"I say, father, can I have Two-forty?[E] I want to go down to the farm,

to see my cattle fed!"

Scarce had leave been obtained, before a cry was heard in another

quarter. "Hallo, Jemmy! what's the matter now? Wont Shelty go?"

The youth so addressed was about six, and sitting in a little low

four-wheeled carriage, whacking away at a Shetland-looking pony, with a

coat, every hair of which was long enough for a horse's tail. The

difficulty was soon discovered, for it was an old trick of Shelty to

lift one leg outside the shaft, and strike for wages, if he wasn't

pleased.

"Get out, Jemmy, I'll set him right;" and accordingly, Shelty's leg

was lifted inside, and Paterfamilias commenced lunging him round and

round before the door. After a few circles he said, "Now then, Jemmy,

get in again; he's all right now."

The infant Jehu mounts, and of course commences pitching into Shelty,

alike vigorously and harmlessly; off they go at score."

"Where are you going, Jemmy?"

"What--say--father?" No words are lost.

"Where are you going, Jemmy?"

"Going to get some turnips for my pigs;" and Jemmy disappeared in a bend

of the road.

On inquiry, I found Jemmy used often to go miles from home in this way,

and was as well known in the neighbourhood as his father.

On another occasion, I remember seeing three lads, the oldest about

twelve, starting off in a four-wheeled cart, armed with an old gun.

"Where are you going, there?"

"To shoot pigeons."

"What's that sticking out of your pocket?"

"A loaded pistol;" and off they went at full swing.

Thinks I to myself, if those lads don't break their necks, or blow their

brains out, they will learn to take care of themselves; and I began to

reflect whether this was the way they were taught to love independence.

Now for a sketch of the other sex. Two horses come to the door

side-saddled. Out rush, and on jump, two girls under twelve. Young Ten,

upon his Two-forty, is the chaperon. "Take care!" says an anxious

parent. "Oh, I'm not afraid, mother;" and away they go, galloping about

the park as if they were Persians. My mind turned involuntarily

homewards, and I drew a picture from life. A faithful nurse stands at

the door; a young lady about twelve is mounting; a groom is on another

horse, with a leading-rein strong enough to hold a line-of-battle ship

in a gale of wind. The old nurse takes as long packing the young lady as

if she were about to make a tour of the globe; sundry whispers are going

on all the time, the purport of which is easily guessed. At last all

excuses are exhausted, and off they go. The lady's nag jog-trots a

little; the nurse's voice is heard--"Walk, walk, that's a dear! walk

till you're comfortable in the saddle. William, mind you don't let go

the rein; is it strong enough?" William smothers a laugh; the procession

moves funereally, the faithful nurse watching it with an expression

betokening intense anxiety. "Take care, that's a dear!" and then, as the

object of her solicitude disappears among the trees, she draws a long

sigh; a mutter is heard--"some accident" are the only words

distinguishable; a bang of the door follows, and the affectionate nurse

is--what?--probably wiping her eyes in the passage.

Here are two systems which may be said to vary a little, and might

require my consideration, were it not that I have no daughters, partly

owing, doubtless, to the primary deficiency of a wife. At all events, I

have at present no time for further reflections; for the waggon is

waiting at the door, the traps are all in, and there stand mine host and

his lady, as ready to speed the parting as they were to welcome the

coming guest. A hearty shake of the hand, and farewell to Hospitality

Hall. May no cloud ever shade the happiness of its worthy inmates!

As we drive on, I may as well tell you that Canandaigua is a beautiful

little village, situated on a slope descending towards a lake of the

same name, and therefore commanding a lovely view--for when is a sheet

of water not lovely? There are some very pretty little villas in the

upper part of the village, which is a long broad street, with trees on

either side, and is peopled by a cozy little community of about four

thousand. Here we are in the open country. What is the first novelty

that strikes the eye?--the snake fences; and a tickler they would prove

to any hot-headed Melton gentleman who might try to sky over them. They

are from six to seven feet high--sometimes higher--and are formed by

laying long split logs one over another diagonally, by which simple

process the necessity of nails or uprights is avoided; and as wood is

dirt-cheap, the additional length caused by their diagonal construction

is of no importance;--but, being all loose, they are as awkward to leap

as a swing-bar, which those who have once got a cropper at, are not

anxious to try again.

It is at all times a cheery thing to go bowling along behind a spicy

team, but especially so when traversing a wild and half-cultivated

country, where everything around you is strange to the eye, and where

the vastness of space conveys a feeling of grandeur; nor is it the less

enjoyable when the scenery is decked in the rich attire of autumn, and

seen through the medium of a clear and cloudless sky. Then, again, there

is something peculiarly pleasing while gazing at the great extent of

rich timbered land, in reflecting that it is crying aloud for the

stalwart arm of man, and pointing to the girdle of waving fields which

surround it, to assure that stalwart arm that industry will meet a sure

reward. Poverty may well hide her head in shame amid such scenes as

these, for it can only be the fruit of wilful indolence.

The farm cottages are all built of wood, painted white, and look as

clean and fresh as so many new-built model dairies. The neat little

churches, too, appeared as bright as though the painters had left them

the evening before. And here I must remark a convenience attached to

them, which it might be well to imitate in those of our own churches

which are situated in out-of-the-way districts, such as the Highlands of

Scotland, where many of the congregation have to come from a

considerable distance. The convenience I allude to is simply a long,

broad shed, open all one side of its length, and fitted with rings, &c.,

for tethering the horses of those who, from fancy, distance, age, or

sickness, are unwilling or unable to come on foot. The expense would be

but small, and the advantage great. Onward speed our dapper greys, fresh

as four-year-olds; and the further we go, the better they seem to like

it. The only bait they get is five minutes' breathing time, and a great

bucket of water, which they seem to relish as much as if it were a

magnum of iced champagne. The avenue before us leads into Geneseo, the

place of our destination, where my kind friend, Mr. Wadsworth, was

waiting to welcome us to his charming little country-place, situated

just outside the village. 'And what a beautiful place is this same

Geneseo! But, for the present, we must discharge our faithful greys--see

our new friends, old and young--enjoy a better bait than our nags did at

the half-way house, indulge in the fragrant Havana, and retire to roost.

To-morrow we will talk of the scenery.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote E: As a similar expression occurs frequently in this work, the

reader is requested to remember that it is a common custom in America to

name a horse according to the time in which he can trot a mile. The boy

evidently had a visionary idea in his mind that the little hack he was

asking permission to ride, had accomplished the feat of trotting a mile

in two minutes and forty seconds.]

CHAPTER V.

_Geneseo_.

It is a lovely bright autumn morning, with a pure blue sky, and a pearly

atmosphere through which scarce a zephyr is stealing; the boughs of the

trees hang motionless; my window is open; but, how strange the perfect

stillness! No warbling note comes from the feathered tribe to greet the

rising sun, and sing, with untaught voice, their Maker's praise; even

the ubiquitous house-sparrow is neither seen nor heard. How strange this

comparative absence of animal life in a country which, having been so

recently intruded upon by the destroyer--man--one would expect to find

superabundantly populated with those animals, against which he does not

make war either for his use or amusement. Nevertheless, so it is; and I

have often strolled about for hours in the woods, in perfect solitude,

with no sound to meet the ear--no life to catch the eye. But I am

wandering from the house too soon;--a jolly scream in the nursery

reminds me that, at all events, there is animal life within, and that

the possessor thereof has no disease of the lungs.

Let us now speed to breakfast; for folk are early in the New World, and

do not lie a-bed all the forenoon, thinking how to waste the afternoon,

and then, when the afternoon comes, try and relieve the tedium thereof

by cooking up some project to get over the _ennui_ of the evening.

Whatever else you may deny the American, this one virtue you must allow

him. He is, emphatically, an early riser; as much so as our own

most gracious Sovereign, whose example, if followed by her

subjects--especially some in the metropolis--would do more to destroy

London hells, and improve London health, than the Legislature, or Sir B.

Hall, and all the College of Surgeons, can ever hope to effect among the

post-meridian drones.

Breakfast was speedily despatched, and Senor Cabaños y Carvajal followed

as a matter of course. While reducing him to ashes, and luxuriating in

the clouds which proclaim his certain though lingering death, we went

out upon the terrace before the house to wish good speed to my two

companions who were just starting, and to enjoy a view of the far-famed

vale of Genesee. Far as the eye could see, with no bounds save the power

of its vision, was one wide expanse of varied beauty. The dark forest

hues were relieved by the rich tints of the waving corn; neat little

cottages peeped out in every direction. Here and there, a village, with

its taper steeples, recalled the bounteous Hand "that giveth us all

things richly to enjoy." Below my feet was beautifully undulating park

ground, magnificently timbered, through which peeped the river, bright

as silver beneath the rays of an unclouded sun, whose beams, streaming

at the same time on a field of the rich-coloured pumpkin, burnished each

like a ball of molten gold. All around was richness, beauty, and

abundance.