The senators are all in their places; ministers of foreign Powers and

their suites are seated on the row of benches under the gallery; the

expectant masses are waiting outside; voices are suddenly hushed, and

all eyes turned towards the door of the senate-chamber; the herald walks

in, and says, "The President Elect of the United States." The chosen of

his country appears with as little form or ceremony as a gentleman

walking into an ordinary drawing-room. All rise as he enters.

I watched the man of the day as he proceeded to his seat on the floor

of the senate. There was neither pride in his eye nor nervousness in his

step, but a calm and dignified composure, well fitted to his high

position, as though gratified ambition were duly tempered by a deep

sense of responsibility. The procession moved out in order to a platform

in front of the Capitol, the late able president walking side by side

with his untried successor, and apparently as calm in resigning office

as his successor appeared to be in entering upon it. Of the inaugural

speech I shall say nothing, as all who care to read it have done so long

since. But one thing should always be remembered, and that is, that the

popular candidates here are all compelled to "do a little Buncombe," and

therefore, under the circumstances, I think it must be admitted there

was as little as was possible. That speech tolled the knell, for the

present at least, of the Whig party, and ushered in the reign of General

Pierce and the Democrats.

Since these lines were penned, the "chosen of the nation" has passed

through his ordeal of four years' administration; and, whatever private

virtues may have adorned his character, I imagine the unanimous voice of

his countrymen would unhesitatingly declare, that so utterly inefficient

a man never filled the presidential chair. He has been succeeded by Mr.

Buchanan, who was well known as the accredited Minister to the Court of

St. James's, and who also made himself ludicrously conspicuous as one of

the famous Ostend manifesto party. However, his talents are undoubted,

and his public career renders it probable that, warned by the failure of

his predecessor, his presidency will reflect more credit upon the

Republic than that of Mr. Pierce. Mr. B.'s inaugural address has been

published in this country, and is, in its way, a contradictory

curiosity. He urges, in diplomacy, "frankness and clearness;" while, to

his fellow-citizens, he offers some very wily diplomatic sentences.

Munroe doctrine and manifest destiny are not named; but they are

shadowed forth in language worthy of a Talleyrand. First, he glories in

his country having never extended its territory by the sword(?); he then

proceeds to say--what everybody says in anticipation of conquest,

annexation, or absorption--"Our past history forbids that, in future, we

should acquire territory, unless this be sanctioned by the laws of

justice and honour" (two very elastic laws among nations). "Acting on

this principle, no nation will have a right to interfere, or to

complain if, in the progress of events, we shall still further extend

our possessions." Leaving these frank and clear sentences to the

consideration of the reader, we return from the digression.

The crowd outside was very orderly, but by no means so numerous as I had

expected; I estimated them at 8000; but a friend who was with me, and

well versed in such matters, calculated the numbers at nearly 10,000,

but certainly, he said, not more. The penny Press, by way of doing

honour to their new ruler, boldly fixed the numbers at 40,000--that was

their bit of Buncombe. One cause, probably, of the crowd not being

greater, was the drizzling snow, which doubtlessly induced many to be

satisfied with seeing the procession pass along Pennsylvania Avenue.

I cannot help remarking here, how little some of their eminent men know

of England. A senator, of great and just reputation, came to me during

the ceremony, and said, "There is one thing which must strike you as

very remarkable, and that is, that we have no soldiers here to keep

order upon an occasion of such political importance." He was evidently

unaware that, not only was such the case invariably in England, but that

soldiers are confined to barracks, or even removed during the excitement

of elections. There is no doubt that the falsehoods and exaggerations

with which the Press here teems, in matters referring to England, are

sufficiently glaring to be almost self-confuting; but if they can so

warp the mind of an enlightened senator, how is it to be wondered at

that, among the masses, many suck in all such trash as if it were Gospel

truth, and look upon England as little else than a land of despotism;

but of that, more anon. The changing of presidents in this country

resembles, practically speaking, the changing of a premier in England;

but, thank Heaven! the changing of a premier in England does not involve

the same changes as does the changing of a president here.

I believe it was General Jackson who first introduced the practice of a

wholesale sweeping out of opponents from all situations, however small;

and this bright idea has been religiously acted upon by all succeeding

presidents. The smallest clerkships, twopenny-halfpenny postmasterships

in unheard-of villages--all, all that can be dispensed with, must make

way for the friends of the incomers to power. Fancy a new premier in

England making a clean sweep of nine-tenths of the clerks, &c., at the

Treasury, Foreign-office, Post-office, Custom-house, Dockyards, &c., &c.

Conceive the jobbing such a system must lead to, not to mention the

comparative inefficiency it must produce in the said departments, and

the ridiculous labour it throws upon the dispensers of these gifts of

place. The following quotation may be taken as a sample:--

OUR CUSTOM-HOUSE--WHAT A HAUL.--The _New Hampshire Patriot_, in an

article on proscription, thus refers to the merciless decapitation of

the Democrats of our Custom-house, by Mr. Collector Maxwell:--

"Take the New York Custom-house as a sample. There are 626 officers

there, exclusive of labourers; and it appears from the records that,

since the Whigs came into power, 427 removals have been there made.

And to show the greediness of the Whig applicants for the spoils, it

need only be stated that, on the very day the collector was sworn into

office he made forty-two removals. He made six before he was sworn. In

thirty days from the time of his entrance upon his duties he removed

220 persons; and, in the course of a few months, he had made such a

clean sweep, that only sixty-two Democrats remained in office, with

564 Whigs! A like sweep was made in other custom-houses; and so clean

work did this 'anti-proscription' administration make in the offices,

that a Democrat could scarcely be found in an office which a Whig

could be found to take."

This is ominous, for the 564 Whigs to be turned over to the charity of

the new collector. Alas! the Democrats are hungry--hard shells and

soft shells--and charity begins at home. In the course of the coming

month we may anticipate a large emigration from the custom-house to

California and Australia. What a blessing to ejected office-holders

that they can fall back upon the gold mines! Such is the beautiful

working of our beneficent institutions! What a magnificent country!

As a proof of the excitement which these changes produce, I remember

perfectly there being ten to one more fuss and telegraphing between

Washington and New York, as to who should be collector at the latter

port, than would exist between London and Paris if a revolution was in

full swing at the latter. To this absurd system may no doubt be partly

attributed the frequent irregularities of their inland postage; but it

is an evil which, as far as I can judge from observation and

conversation, will continue till, with an increasing population and

increase of business, necessity re-establishes the old and better order

of things. Political partisanship is so strong that nothing but

imperative necessity can alter it.

The cabmen here, as in every other place I ever visited, make strenuous

efforts to do the new comers. They tried it on me; so, to show them how

knowing I was, I quoted their legitimate fares. "Ah, sir," says Cabby,

"that's very well; but, you see, we charges more at times like these." I

replied, "You've no right to raise your charges; by what authority do

you do it?" "Oh, sir, we meet together and agree what is the proper

thing." "But," says I, "the authorities are the people to settle those

things." "The authorities don't know nothing at all about it; we can

manage our own matters better than they." And they all stoutly stuck to

their own charges, the effect of which was that I scarcely saw a dozen

cabs employed during the ten days I was there.

Nothing could exceed the crowd in the streets, in the hotels, and

everywhere; the whole atmosphere was alive with the smoke of the

fragrant weed, and all the hotels were afloat with the juice thereof.

The city has repeatedly been called the City of Magnificent Distances;

but anything so far behind its fellow cities cannot well be imagined. It

sounds incredible--nevertheless, it is a fact--that, except from the

Capitol to the "White House," there is not a street-light of any kind,

or a watchman. I lost my way one evening, and wandered all over the town

for two hours, without seeing light or guardian of any kind. I suppose

this is intended as a proof of the honest and orderly conduct of the

inhabitants, but I fear it must also be taken as a proof of their

poverty or want of energy. Whatever the reason may be, it certainly is a

reflection on the liberality of the Government, that the capital of this

Great Union should be the worst paved, worst lit, and worst guarded in

the whole Republic.

The system of sweeping changes on the election of a new president tends

materially to stop any increase of householders, the uncertain tenure of

office making the _employés_ prefer clustering in hotels and

boarding-houses to entering on a short career of housekeeping, which

will, of course, militate against any steady increase of the city, and

thus diminish the tax-payers. There are several hotels, but they will

not stand the least comparison with those in any of the leading towns of

the Union. Like the hotels in London, they are crammed during the

season--i.e., session--and during the rest of the year are

comparatively empty, and consequently do not pay very well; but they

are not the only establishments that make hay during the session; if

report speaks truly, the bars and gambling-houses reap an immense

harvest from the representatives of the people in both houses of

congress.

I amused myself here, as I often had done in other towns, by taking a

cigar in some decent-looking shop, and then having a chat with the

owner. On this occasion the subject of conversation was drinking in the

States. He said, in reply to a question I put to him, "Sir, a gentleman

must live a long time in the country before he can form the slightest

idea of the frightful extent to which drinking is carried, even by the

decently educated and well-to-do classes. I do not say that nine-tenths

of the people die drunk, but I firmly believe that with that proportion

death has been very materially hastened from perpetual drinks. It is one

of the greatest curses of this country, and I cannot say that I believe

it to be on the decrease." One reason, doubtless, why it is so

pernicious, is the constant habit of drinking before breakfast. That he

was correct in his per-centage, I do not pretend to say; but I certainly

have seen enough of the practice to feel sure it must have a most

pernicious effect on very many. To what extent it is carried on by the

lowest classes I had no opportunity of judging.

The following observations, however, made by so high an authority as Mr.

Everett, must be admitted as a convincing proof that education has not

been able to cope effectually with drunkenness. Speaking of ardent

spirits, he says:--

"What has it done in ten years in the States of America? First, it has

cost the nation a direct expense of 120,000,000l. Secondly, it has

cost the nation an indirect expense of 120,000,000l. Thirdly, it has

destroyed 300,000 lives. Fourthly, it has sent 100,000 children to the

poor-house. Fifthly, it has consigned at least 150,000 persons to

jails and penitentiaries. Sixthly, it has made at least a thousand

maniacs. Seventhly, it has instigated to the commission of at least

fifteen hundred murders. Eighthly, it has caused 2000 persons to

commit suicide. Ninthly, it has burnt or otherwise destroyed property

to the amount of 2,000,000l. Tenthly, it has made 200,000 widows,

and 1,000,000 of orphan children."

When I turn from the contemplation of this sad picture, and think how

many fall victims to the same vice in my own country, I cannot help

feeling that the "myriad-minded poet" wrote the following lines as an

especial warning and legacy to the Anglo-Saxon and the Celt:--

"Oh, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their

brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause,

transform ourselves into beasts!"

I was very sorry time did not admit of my witnessing one of the new

president's levees, as I much wished to see the olla podrida of

attendants. It must be a quaint scene; the hack-cabman who drives you to

the door will get a boy to look after his shay, and go in with you;

tag-rag and bob-tail, and all their family, go in precisely as they

like; neither soap nor brush is a necessary prelude. By late accounts

from America, it appears that at Mr. Pierce's last levee a gentleman

charged another with picking his pocket: the latter went next day with a

friend to explain the mistake, which the former refusing to accept, he

was struck by the accused, and, in return, shot him dead on the spot. A

pleasant state of society for the metropolis of a civilized community!

How changed since the days of Washington and knee-breeches! It should

however be mentioned as highly creditable to the masses, that they

rarely take advantage of their rights. The building is the size of a

moderately wealthy country gentleman's house in England, and has one or

two fine reception-rooms; between it and the water a monument is being

raised to Washington. I fear it will be a sad failure; the main shaft or

column suggests the idea of a semaphore station, round the base whereof

the goodly things of sculpture are to be clustered. As far as I could

glean from conversation with Americans, they seem themselves to

anticipate anything but success.

The finest buildings here are the Capitol, Patent-office, and

Post-office. Of these the Patent-office, which is modelled after the

Parthenon, is the only one that has any pretensions to architecture. I

fear the Anglo-Saxon of these later days, whether in the old country or

here, is destined to leave no solid traces of architectural

taste--_vide_ National Gallery, London, and Post-office, Washington.

Having seen the lions of Washington, and enjoyed the hospitalities of

our able and agreeable minister, I again trusted myself to the iron

horse, and started for Baltimore. During my residence in Washington, I

had revelled latterly in the comfort of a lodging free from the horrors

of American inns. Profiting by this experience, I had applied to a

friend at Baltimore to engage me rooms in some quiet place there; by

this precaution I got into Guy's, in Monument-square. He keeps a

restaurant, but has a few beds for friends or old customers. I found

myself most comfortably housed, and the living of the cleanest and the

best; besides which, my kind friends gave me the _entrée_ of the Club,

which was almost next door. The hospitalities of which I had enjoyed a

foretaste in November last, now thickened upon me, and though the season

of Lent had put a stop to large and general parties, enough was still

left to make my stay very agreeable.

The town is beautifully situated on undulating ground, commanding a

lovely view of the hay; the streets are of a rational breadth, the town

is rapidly increasing, the new buildings are all large and airy, and

everything indicates prosperity. The cuisine of Baltimore has a very

high, and, as far as I can judge, a very just reputation; not merely

Maxwell Point canvas-back ducks, but the famous Terrapin also, lend

their aid to the enjoyment of the inner man. In fact, so famous is the

Terrapin, that a wicked wag detailed to me an account of a highly

improper scene which he said took place once in the Episcopal Church

here, viz., a gentleman who had a powerful voice and generally led the

responses, had his heart and mind so full of the luscious little animal,

that by a sad fatality he substituted "Terrapin" for "Seraphin" in the

response; and so far was any one from remarking it, that the whole

congregation repeated the mistake after him. The curly twinkle in the

eye with which my friend told me the story, leaves an impression in my

mind that it may be an exaggeration.

While here, I observed a play-bill with "The White Slave of England"

printed on it, evidently intended as a set-off against the dramatizing

of "Uncle Tom" in London, at some of our penny theatres. Of course I

went to see it, and never laughed more in all my life.

The theatre was about the size of a six-stalled stable, and full of

rowdies, &c.--no ladies; our party had a private-box. The tragedy opens

by revealing the under-ground of a coal-pit in England, where is seen a

fainting girl, &c. &c.: the girl is, of course, well licked by a driver;

an explosion takes place; dead and dying bodies are heaped together,

the driver says, "D---- 'em, let 'em lie; we'll get plenty more from the

poor-house." These mines belong to a Lord Overstone; an American arrives

with a negro servant, whom he leaves to seek his own amusement. He then

calls on Lord Overstone, and obtains permission to visit the mines;

there he finds the girl alluded to above all but dying, and, of course,

rescues her. In the meantime, the nigger calls on Lord Overstone as a

foreign prince, is immensely _fêted_, the Duchess of Southernblack and

her friend Lady Cunning are invited to meet his Royal Highness; the

rescued girl is claimed as a slave by Lord Overstone; philanthropic

Jonathan, after some difficulty, succeeds in keeping her, having first

ordered Lord Overstone's servants to the right-about with all the

swagger of a northern negro-driver. It appears that Jonathan was

formerly a boy in the mines himself, and had conceived an affection for

this girl. Lord Overstone finds out that Jonathan has papers requisite

for him to prove his right to his property; he starts with his family

for America, to visit him on his plantation. There the niggers exhibit a

paradise such as never was; nearly the first person is his Royal

Highness the nigger servant. Lady Overstone faints when he comes up to

shake hands. Business proceeds; Lord Overstone bullies,--Jonathan is the

milk of mildness. At last it turns out the girl is a daughter of Lord

Overstone, and that the Yankee is the owner by right of Lord Overstone's

property. He delivers a Buncombe speech, resigning his rights, and

enlarging on the higher privilege of being in the land of true

freedom--a slave plantation. The audience scream frantically, Lord and

Lady Overstone go back humbled, and the curtain falls on one of the most

absurd farces I ever saw; not the least absurd part being Jonathan

refusing to take possession of his inheritance of 17,000l. a-year.

Truly, "Diogenes in his tub" is nothing to "Jonathan in his sugar-cask."

The population of Maryland has increased in whites and free negroes, and

decreased in slaves, between the years 1800 and 1852, in the following

manner:--

Whites. Free Negroes. Slaves.

1800 216,000 8,000 103,000

1852 500,000 74,008 90,000.

The state has nearly a thousand educational establishments; and there

are sixty daily and weekly papers for the instruction of the community.

Baltimore has a population of 140,000 whites, 25,000 free blacks, 3000

slaves. Among this population are nearly 30,000 Germans and 20,000

Irish. The value of the industrial establishments of the city is

estimated at considerably above 4,000,000l. From the above, I leave

the reader to judge of its prosperity.

The people in Baltimore who enjoy the widest--if not the most

enviable--reputation, are the fire companies. They are all volunteer,

and their engines are admirable. They are all jealous as Kilkenny cats

of one another, and when they come together, they scarcely ever lose an

opportunity of getting up a bloody fight. They are even accused of doing

occasionally a little bit of arson, so as to get the chance of a row.

The people composing the companies are almost entirely rowdies, and

apparently of any age above sixteen: when extinguishing fires, they

exhibit a courage and reckless daring that cannot be surpassed, and they

are never so happy as when the excitement of danger is at its highest.

Their numbers are so great, that they materially affect the elections of

all candidates for city offices; the style of persons chosen, may hence

be easily guessed. The cup of confusion is fast filling up; and unless

some knowing hands can make a hole in the bottom and drain off the

dregs, the overflow will be frightful.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote AC: I had had the good fortune to pick up an agreeable

companion on board the "Isabel"--the brother of one of our most

distinguished members of the House of Commons--who, like myself, had

been visiting Cuba, and was hastening to Washington, to be present at

the inauguration of the President Elect, and with him I spent many very

pleasant days.]

CHAPTER XIV.

_Philadelphia and Richmond_.

Having spent a very pleasant time at Baltimore, I took rail for

Philadelphia, the city of "loving brotherhood," being provided with

letters to several most amiable families in that town. I took up my

abode at Parkinson's--a restaurant in Chestnut-street--where I found the

people very civil and the house very clean; but I saw little of the

inside of the house, except at bed and breakfast time. The hospitality

for which this city is proverbial soon made me as much at home as if I

had been a resident there all my life. Dinner-party upon dinner-party

succeeded each other like waves of the ocean; the tables groaned under

precious vintages of Madeira, dating back all but to the Flood. I have

never before or since tasted such delicious wine, and in such profusion,

and everybody stuck to it with such leech-like tenacity. On one

occasion, having sat down to dinner at two o'clock, I found myself

getting up from table half an hour after midnight, and quite as fresh as

when I had sat down. There was no possibility of leaving the hospitable

old General's mahogany.[AD] One kind friend, Mr. C.H. Fisher, insisted

that I must make his house my hotel, either he or his wife were always

at dinner at four o'clock, and my cover was always laid. The society of

his amiable lady and himself made it too tempting an offer to refuse,

and I need scarcely say, it added much to the pleasure of my stay in

Philadelphia. The same kind friend had also a seat for me always in his

box at the opera, where that most charming and lady-like of actresses,

the Countess Rossi,[AE] with her sweet voice, was gushing forth

soft melody to crammed houses. On every side I met nothing but

kindness. Happening one day at dinner to mention incidentally, that I

thought the butter unworthy of the reputation of Philadelphia--for it

professes to stand pre-eminent in dairy produce--two ladies present

exclaimed, "Well!" and accompanied the expression by a look of active

benevolence. The next morning, as I was sitting down to breakfast, a

plate arrived from each of the rivals in kindness; the dew of the

morning was on the green leaf, and underneath, such butter as my mouth

waters at the remembrance of, and thus it continued during my whole

stay. The club doors, with all its conveniences--and to a solitary

stranger they are very great--were thrown open to me: in short, my

friends left me nothing to wish, except that my time had permitted me a

longer enjoyment of their hospitalities.

The streets of Philadelphia, which run north and south from the

Schuylkill to the Delaware, are named after the trees, a row whereof

grow on each side; but whether from a poetic spirit, or to aid the

memory, some of the names are changed, that the following couplet,

embracing the eight principal ones, may form a handy guide to the

stranger or the resident:--

"Chestnut, walnut, spruce, and pine,

Market, arch, race, and vine."

Mulberry, and sassafras, and juniper, would have dished the poetry. The

cross-streets are all called by numbers; thus any domicile is readily

found. The principal traverse street is an exception, being called

"Broad;" it looks its name well, and extends beyond the town into the

country: strange as it may seem to those who associate stiff white

bonnets, stiff coat-collars, and broad-brimmed hats, with Philadelphia,

on the extremity of this street every Sunday afternoon, all the famous

trotters may be seen dashing along at three-minute pace. The country

round about is pretty and undulating, and the better-to-do inhabitants

of Philadelphia have very snug little country places, in which they

chiefly reside during the summer, and to which, at other seasons, they

often adjourn upon the Saturday, to enjoy the quiet of Sunday in the

country.

One of the first objects of interest I went to visit was the Mint, the

labours of which are of course immensely increased since the working of

the Californian mines. Men are coming in every day with gold in greater

or lesser quantities; it is first assayed, and the per-centage for this

work being deducted, the value is paid in coin to the owner. While I was

there, I saw a wiry-looking fellow arrive, in bright hat and brighter

satin waistcoat, with a beard as bushy as an Indian jungle, and as red

as the furnace into which his precious burden was to be thrown. Two

small leather bags were carefully taken out of a waist-belt, their

contents emptied into a tin can, a number placed in the can, and a

corresponding number given him--no words spoken: in two days he would

return, and, producing his number, receive value in coin. The dust would

all have gone into a good-sized coffee-cup. I asked the officer about

the value. "400l., sir." He had left a New England state some eight

months previous, and was going home to invest in land.

What strikes a stranger most on entering the Mint, is the absence of all

extra defence round it; the building appears as open as any London

house. The process is, of course, essentially the same as elsewhere; but

I was astonished when the director told me that the parties employed in

the establishment are never searched on leaving, though the value of

hundreds of thousands of dollars is daily passing through their hands in

every shape. The water in which the workmen wash their hands runs into a

tank below, and from this water, value to the amount of from 60l. to

80l. is extracted annually. The sweepings, &c., after the most careful

sifting, are packed in casks and sold--chiefly, I believe, to European

Jews--for 4000l. annually. The only peculiarity in the Philadelphian

Mint is a frame-work for counting the number of pieces coined, by which

ingenious contrivance--rendered necessary by Californian pressure--one

man does the work of from twenty to thirty. The operation of weighing

the several pieces of coin being of a delicate nature, it is confided to

the hands of the fair sex, who occupy a room to themselves, where each

daughter of Eve sits with the gravity of a Chancellor opposite a

delicate pair of scales. Most parts of the establishment are open to the

public from ten till two, and they are only excluded from those portions

of the building where intrusion would impede the operations in progress.

This city, like most others in America, is liberally supplied with

water. Magnificent basins are built in a natural mound at Fairmount,

nearly opposite an old family mansion of the Barings, and the water is

forced up into these basins from the river by powerful water-wheels,

worked by the said river, which is dammed up for the purpose of

obtaining sufficient fall, as the stream is sometimes very low.

Perhaps the most interesting, and certainly the most imposing sight in

the neighbourhood of Philadelphia, is "The Gerard College." So singular

and successful a career as that of the founder deserves a slight record.

Stephen Gerard was born of French parents, at Bordeaux, the 21st of May,

1750, and his home--owing to his mother's place having soon been filled

by a step-mother--appears to have left no pleasant reminiscences. At

fourteen years of age he took to the sea. Subsequently, as master and

part owner of a small vessel, he arrived, in the year 1777, at

Philadelphia for the first time, and commenced business as a merchant;

but it appears that in 1786, he took command of one of his own vessels,

leaving the management of his mercantile house to his brother. Returning

in 1788, he dissolved partnership with his brother, and bade a final

adieu to the sea. In the year 1793, the yellow fever raged with fury at

Philadelphia; as the ravage increased, the people fled aghast. A

hospital was organized at Bush Hill, in the neighbourhood, but all was

confusion, for none could be found to face the dreaded enemy, till

Stephen Gerard and Peter Helm boldly volunteered their services at the

risk of their lives. Stephen Gerard was married, but his wife was

consigned to an asylum in 1790, after various ineffectual efforts for

her cure; there she remained till her death, in 1815. His mercantile

pursuits prospered in every direction, and he soon became one of the

most wealthy and influential men in the community; he was possessed of a

vigorous constitution, and was extremely regular and abstemious in his

habits. In 1830 he was knocked down by a passing vehicle as he was

crossing the street; by this accident he was severely injured in the

head, from which he was slowly recovering, when, in 1831, he was seized

with violent influenza, and ultimately pneumonia, of which he died, the

26th of December, aged eighty-one.

His character appears to have been a curious compound. The assiduity

with which he amassed wealth, coupled with his abstemious habits, and

his old knee-breeches patched all over--and still to be seen in the

college--strongly bespoke the miser; while his contributions to public

works, and his liberal transactions in money matters, led to an opposite

conclusion; and from his noble conduct during the yellow fever it is

reasonable to infer he was a humane man. I do not wish to judge people

uncharitably, but, I must say, I can allow but little credit to a man

who legacies the bulk of his fortune away from his relations when he can

no longer enjoy it himself. Mr. Gerard had very many relatives; let us

see how he provided for them. The _résumé_ of his will may be thus

stated: he died worth 1,500,000l., and thus disposes of it:--

Erection and endowment of college £400,000

Different institutions of charity 23,200

To his relatives and next of kin 28,000

City of Philadelphia, for improvements 100,000

Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, for

internal improvements 60,000

Sundry friends, &c. 13,000

The residue left to the city of Philadelphia, for improvement and

maintenance of his college, the establishment of better police, and to

improve the city and diminish taxation. Thus, out of a fortune of one

million and a half, he leaves his relatives 28,000l. Charity, in this

instance, can scarcely be said to have begun at home.

A certain increase of property to the amount of 60,000l. having taken

place since the date of his will, a suit was instituted by the

heirs-at-law to recover the same; in which, I am happy to say, they were

successful.

Perhaps one of the most extraordinary clauses in his will is the

following, viz.:--

"_I enjoin and require that no ecclesiastic, missionary, or Minister of

any sect whatsoever, shall ever hold or exercise any station or duty

whatever in the said college; nor shall any such person ever be admitted

for any purpose, or as a visitor, within the premises appropriated to

the purposes of the said college._"

The general design of the college is taken from the Madeleine.

Thirty-four columns surround it, each column six feet in diameter and

fifty feet high, made of marble, and weighing 103 tons, and costing when

placed 2600l. Some idea of the massiveness of the building may be

formed from the fact that, measuring 111 feet by 169 feet, and 59 of

height, the weight of material employed is estimated at 76,594-1/2 tons.

The effect of the whole is grand and graceful; and although as an orphan

asylum much money has been needlessly turned from its charitable uses,

as a building it does credit to the architect and all employed upon it,

and is, beyond all comparison, the best specimen of architecture I have

seen in the States.

[Illustration: Gerard College, Philadelphia]

The number of orphans receiving instruction is three hundred and one;

they are cleanly and comfortably lodged, and well-boarded; their ages

average from ten to fourteen and a half, and the upper classes of the

school are taught conic sections, geometry, chemistry, natural

philosophy, navigation, astronomy, mechanics, physical geography, &c.

While in the school vein, I visited one appropriated to four hundred

free negroes, whom I found of all ages, from five to fifty, males and

females being kept separate. The master told me that he found the boys

tolerably sharp, but very cunning, and always finding some excuse for

irregular attendance. The mistress said she found the girls very docile,

and the parents very anxious, but too soon satisfied with the first

stages of progress. The patience and pains I saw one of the teachers

exhibiting in the process of enlightening the little woolly heads was

most creditable.

Having finished the negro school, I got a letter to the principal of the

High School, Professor Hart, by whom I was kindly shown over that

admirable institution, which is also free; but, before proceeding to any

observations on the High School, it may be interesting to know something

of the entire provision for instruction which exists in the city and

county of Philadelphia. The number of schools is 256, teachers 727,

scholars 45,383. The teachers are principally females--646; of scholars,

the males rather preponderate. The annual expense of these

establishments is 66,500l., and the average cost of each pupil is

26s. No pupil can be admitted into the High School without producing

satisfactory testimonials from the inferior schools, as well as passing

the requisite examination; the consequence of this arrangement is a vast

improvement in the inferior schools, as bad conduct there would

effectually bar their entry to the High School. The average age of

entry is fourteen, and a lad is required to stay five years before he

can take his degree as Master of Arts, one indispensable requisite for

which is moral character. The school numbers about 500 of all kinds and

positions in society, from the hopes of the tinsmith to the heir of the

toga'd judge.

The instruction is of so high an order that no private establishment can

compete with it; in short, it may be said to embrace a very fair college

education. Read the following list of professors: the Principal, who is

also Professor of Moral, Mental, and Political Science; Professor of

Practical Mathematics; of Theoretical Science and Astronomy; of History

and Belles-Lettres; of Natural History; of Latin and Greek; of French

and Spanish; of Drawing, Writing, and Book-keeping; of Chemistry and

Natural Philosophy; and three assistants. The highest salary received by

these professors is 270l. a-year, except that of Mr. Hart the

Principal, which is 400l.; and in him all the responsibilities centre.

This is the only school where I ever knew the old Saxon regularly

taught. Instruction is given in various other studies not enumerated in

the Professors' list; thus, in the class under the Professor of Natural

History, botany, and anatomy, and such medical information as may be

useful on any of the emergencies of every-day life are taught. No books

are brought to this class; the instruction is entirely by lecture, and

the subjects treated are explained by beautifully-executed

transparencies, placed before a window by day, and before a bright jet

of gas by night, and thus visible easily to all. The readiness with

which I heard the pupils in this class answer the questions propounded

to them showed the interest they took in the subject, and was a

conclusive proof of the efficiency of the system of instruction pursued;

they dived into the arcana of human and vegetable life with an ease that

bore the most satisfactory testimony to the skill of the instructor and

the attention of the pupils.

There is a plan adopted at this school which I never saw before, and

which Professor Hart told me was most admirable in its results. At the

end of every three-quarters of an hour all the doors and windows in the

house are opened simultaneously; the bell is then rung twice: at the

first sound, all lectures, recitations, and exercises cease, and the

students put their books, caps, &c., in readiness to move; at the second

sound, all the classes move simultaneously from the room in which they

have been studying to the room in which the next course of study is to

be followed. The building is so arranged, that in passing from one room

to another, they have to pass through the court round the house. This

operation takes three minutes, and is repeated about eight times a-day,

during which intervals all the doors and windows are open, thus

thoroughly ventilating the rooms; but there is a further advantage,

which is thus described in the Report,--"These movements are found very

useful in giving periodically a fresh impulse both to the bodies and to

the minds of the students, and in interrupting almost mechanically the

dull monotony which is apt to befall school hours." The Principal told

me, that, from careful observation, he looked upon this as one of the

most valuable regulations in the establishment, and that it was

difficult to rate its advantages too highly, the freshness of mind which

it brought infinitely outweighing any loss of time, interruption, &c. I

spent three interesting hours in this admirable institution.

The next establishment I visited was of a very different description;

i.e., the jail of solitary confinement. I much wished to have seen

some of the prisoners who had been confined for a length of time, but

from some informality in the letter I brought, the guardian did not feel

authorized to break through the regulations. The prisoners are sometimes

confined here for twelve years; they are kept totally separate, but they

are allowed to occupy themselves at different trades, &c., in their

cells. My guide told me he had never seen any of them become the least

idiotic or light-headed from long confinement. Their cells were clean

and airy, and some had a little eight-feet-square garden attached; their

food was both plentiful and good, and discipline was preserved by the

rod of diet; "but," says the guide, "if they become very troublesome

and obstinate we" ... what d'ye think?... "give them a shower-bath;"

criminals here seem to hate fresh water as much as the tenants of the

poor-houses in England do. The jail seems very well adapted for

escaping; but I suppose the rifle-armed sentries at the angles of the

wall keep them in sufficient awe, as I was told they very rarely get

away. The number confined was two hundred and eighty.

The last place I visited was the Lunatic Asylum, which appears admirably

placed and admirably conducted. The situation commands a view of two

public roads, where the bustle and stir of life are continually passing

before their eyes, and with no visible fence intervening, the ground

being so undulating and wooded as effectually to conceal the barrier.

The grounds are pleasantly laid out in walks, gardens, hothouses, &c.; a

comfortable reading-room and ten-pin alley[AF] are provided on each

side, one for the males, the other for the females. The rooms and

dormitories are large and airy, and carriages and horses are ready for

such as the physician recommends should take that exercise. The comfort

of the inmates appeared fully equal to that of any similar establishment

I have visited, and the position far superior, for there was no visible

barrier between them and the open country.

But Time says to the traveller what the policeman says to the gathering

crowd, "Move on, if you please, sir; move on." Obey is the word. Kind

friends are left behind, the kettle hisses, the iron horse snorts, the

Hudson is passed, New York is gained, the journey is behind me, bread,

butter, and Bohea before me. "Go on," says Time. The Charleston steamer,

"James Adger," is bursting to be off. Introduced to the agents, they

introduced me to the skipper. The skipper seems to think I am his

father; he insists upon my occupying his cabin--a jolly room, big enough

to polka in--fifteen feet square. Thanks, most excellent skipper, "may

your shadow never be less"--it is substantial enough now. Do you ask why

I go to New York from Philadelphia to reach Charleston? The reply is

simple:--to avoid the purgatory of an American railway, and to enjoy the

life-giving breezes "that sweep o'er the ocean wave." The skipper was

a regular trump; the service was clean, and we fed like fighting-cocks.

The weather was fine, the ship a clipping good one, passengers few, but

with just enough 'bacco-juice flying about the decks to remind me where

I was.

One of our company was a charming rarity in his way. He was an Irish

Yankee, aged eighty-three. A more perfect Paddy never existed; and so,

of course, he talked about fighting, and began detailing to me the

various frays in which "we whipt the Britishers." By way of chaffing

him, I said, "No wonder; they were Anglo-Saxon blood, brought their

courage from England, and were not only fighting at home, but with a

halter round their necks." The old veteran got furious, cursed England

and the Saxon blood, from Harold to the present hour; he then proved to

his own satisfaction that all the great men in America, and all the

soldiers, were Celts. "It was the Celts, sir, that whipt the Britishers;

and, ould as I am, sure I'd like to take 20,000 men over to the ould

counthree, and free it from the bloodthirsty villins, the Saxon brutes."

If poor O'Brien had had half the fire of this old Yankee Paddy, he never

would have been caught snoozing among the old widow's cabbages. I really

thought the old gentleman would have burst outright, or collapsed from

reaction; but it passed over like a white squall, and left the original

octogenarian calm behind. The darkness of the third evening has closed

in upon us, the struggling stream is bellowing for release, hawsers are

flying about, boys running from them, and men after them; the good

"James Adger" is coquetting about with those well-known young ladies,

the Misses "Bakkur and Ternahed;" James seems determined to enjoy it for

an unusually prolonged period this evening; but, like everything else,

it must have an end, and at last good James lies snugly in his berth,

alongside the wharf at Charleston. Cabmen and touters offer an infinity

of services; passengers radiate--my Yankee Paddy, it is to be hoped,

went to an ice-saloon. Your humble servant went to a boarding-house kept

by a most worthy old lady, but where flies occupied one half the house,

and the filthiest negro-boys the other. Several respectable people, out

of regard to the old lady, were performing the penance of residing in

her house: a trip on hot ashes from Dan to Beersheba would have been

luxury by comparison. I resigned myself and got reconciled, as I saw the

sincere desire of the dear old girl to make me as comfortable as she

could; and by learning to eat my meals with my eyes shut, I got on

tolerably well. But scarce had I set foot in this establishment which I

have been describing, ere kind friends sprang up to greet me and offer

me the use of their club-room, which was just opposite my

boarding-house; and as this was only the prelude to endless other

civilities, my lodging saw very little of me; which may be easily

imagined, when it is recollected how famous Charleston is, not only for

the good living which it affords, but for the liberal hospitality with

which it is dispensed. A letter to one gentleman becomes, like magic, an

"Open Sesame" to all the cellars and society in the place; and the only

point in dispute is, who can show you most kindness.

The town is conveniently situated between the Ashley and Cooper rivers,

with a population of 25,000 whites and the same number of blacks; it is

a mixture of all that is lovely and annoying. The houses have mostly

little gardens attached to them, sparkling with tropical flowers, and

the streets are shaded with avenues of trees. This is all very lovely to

look upon; but when you go out to enjoy a stroll, if the air is still, a

beefsteak would frizzle on the crown of your hat; and if there is the

slightest breeze, the sandy dust, like an Egyptian _khamseen_, laughs at

all precautions, blinding your eyes, stuffing your nose, filling your

mouth, and bringing your hide to a state which I can find no other

comparison for but that of a box intended to represent a stone pedestal,

and which, when the paint has half dried, is sprinkled with sand to

perfect the delusion. Thus you can understand the lovely and the

annoying of which I have spoken. When the inhabitants wish to take a

drive, there is a plank road about six miles long, which enables them to

enjoy this luxury. If they are not content with this road, they must

seek their pleasure with the carriages up to their axles in sand. There

are three old royalist buildings still standing--viz., the Episcopal

church, the Court-house, and the Exchange. The first reminds one warmly

of the dear old parish church in England, with its heavy oak pulpit and

the square family pews, and it sobers the mind as it leads the memory to

those days when, if the church was not full of activity, it was not full

of strife--when parishioners were not brought to loggerheads as to the

colour of the preacher's gown--when there was no triangular duel (_vide_

Marryat) as to candles, no candles, and lit candles--when, in short, if

there was but moderate zeal about the substance, there was no

quarrelling about the shadows of religion; and if we were not blessed

with the zeal of a Bennet, we were not cursed with the strife of a

Barnabas. At the time the colonists kicked us out of this place, by way

of not going empty-handed, we bagged the church-bells as a

trophy--(query, is not robbing a church sacrilege?)--and they eventually

found their way into a merchant's store in England, where they remained

for years. Not long since, having been ferreted out, they were replaced

in their original position, and now summon the Republicans of the

nineteenth century to their devotions as lustily as they did the

Royalists in the eighteenth. There is nothing remarkable in the two

other buildings, except their antiquity, and the associations arising

therefrom.[AG]

One of the most striking sights here is the turn-out of the Fire

Companies on any gala day. They consist of eight companies, of one

hundred each; their engines are brilliantly got up, and decorated

tastefully with flowers; banners flying; the men, in gay but

business-like uniform, dragging their engines about, and bands playing

away joyously before them. The peculiarity of the Charleston firemen is

that, instead of being composed of all the rowdies of the town, as is

often the case in the large eastern cities, they are, generally

speaking, the most respectable people in the community. This may partly

be accounted for by the militia service being so hard, and the fines

for the neglect of the same so heavy, from which all those serving in

the Fire Companies are exempt.[AH] The South Carolinians, in

anticipation of any insurrection among the negroes, or in case of being

driven into secession by success attending the efforts of the

Abolitionists, have very prudently established a little miniature West

Point institution,[AI] where lads from fifteen to twenty receive a

thorough military education, and then retire into private life and

follow any pursuits they choose. By this means the nucleus of military

officers requisite for an army is obtained, and the frequent drilling of

the militia forms a solid groundwork for that latter, should the hour of

necessity unfortunately arrive. The gay time of Charleston is during the

races, which take place in February, and have a considerable reputation,

although, perhaps, not quite so high as they had some few years back. I

have never seen any of their racing studs; but, as they import from

England some of the finest stallions that come into the market, and as

the breed of horse in America is very active and enduring, their racers,

it is to be presumed, make a very good show.

Having impregnated my system with turtle, terrapin, mint-julep, and

Madeira--the latter such as only America can show--I bade adieu to my

kind and hospitable friends, and started for Virginia. The first part of

the journey--i.e., as far as Wilmington--I performed in a wretched

little steamer, anything but seaworthy, with horrid cribs, three one

above the other, to sleep in, and a motley mixture of passengers, as

usual. No particular incident occurred; and having fine weather, we

escaped wrecking or putting back. On ascending the river to Wilmington,

you see royal--I beg pardon, republican--sturgeons jumping about in all

directions, and of all sizes, from three to five feet in length. We

reached the town in time to catch the train, and off we started. When

about six miles on our journey, a curious motion of the carriages, added

to their "slantingdicular" position and accompanied by a slight scream,

proclaimed that we were off the rails. Thank God! no lives were lost or

limbs broken. The first person that I saw jump from the train was a

Spanish colonel, who shot out with an activity far beyond his years,

hugging to his bosom a beloved fiddle, which was the joy of his heart,

and about the safety of which he was evidently as anxious as about his

own. He sat down by the side of the carriages, a ludicrous picture of

alarm and composure combined. He was on his way to England with the

intention of presenting some musical compositions to the Queen, and

possibly had a floating idea he might do a bit of Paganini before Her

Gracious Majesty. Gradually, all the party unkenneled; and it was then

discovered that, had we run off the rails a few yards further on, we

should have had a nasty cropper down a thirty-feet bank; fortunately, we

ran off on the level, and merely stuck in the sand.

Upon inquiry as to the cause of the accident, I ascertained that it was

in consequence of a point for turning off on to another set of rails

being broken. Upon examining the said point, I found it was as worn and

rotten as time could make it. I mentioned this to the engineer, who told

me he was perfectly aware of it, and had reported it to the

superintendent a fortnight before, but that he--the superintendent--had

guessed it would do very well for some time yet; consequently, the

engineer always went slower when approaching the spot, to avoid, if

possible, an accident. By this precaution we had been saved the capsize

over the bank, which otherwise would inevitably have been our fate.

Thus, for the sake of twenty shillings, they had smashed an engine,

doing damage to the amount of twenty pounds at least, besides risking

the lives of all the passengers. What was to be done? There was nothing

for it but to go back to Wilmington, chew the cud of disgust, and hope

the rascally superintendent might break every bone in his body the first

favourable opportunity. This done, and a night's rest over, we again

tempted fate, and continued our journey, which for a long time ran

through large pine-forests, every member of which community was a victim

of laceration, inflicted on him for the purpose of drawing off his

life's blood, which dribbled into a box at the root, and, when full, was

carried off to make turpentine.

Arrived at Peterborough, we found the population so far behind the

American age, that they would not allow a railroad to pass through their

town; we were consequently constrained to shift into omnibuses, and

drive some three miles to the station on the other side. As this trip

was peculiarly barren of incident, it may gratify the reader to be

informed, that in the confusion of shifting from one station to the

other I lost my best and only hat. I hope this simple record will be

received as conclusive evidence of the monotony and dullness of the

journey. I do not mention it to excite sympathy, for I am happy to say

that I have since purchased a new and a better one; and in case my old

one is found, I hereby will and bequeath the same to the mayor of

Peterborough, his heirs and successors, hoping that they may wear no

other until a railroad round or through the town connects the termini.

Again we mount the iron horse--time flies--light mingles with

darkness--and at nine o'clock I alight at the Royal Exchange Hotel,

Richmond. Soap and water, tea and bed, follow in quick succession, and

then comes the land of dreams and oblivion.

Richmond is a lovely spot, situated on the northern bank of James River,

one hundred and fifty miles from the sea, and is the capital of

Virginia. It contains nearly 30,000 inhabitants of whom 1000 are slaves.

Being built upon several hills, it is free from the eternal sameness of

level and regularity of lines which tire the eye so much in New York,

Philadelphia, &c., and its site resembles more that of Boston or

Baltimore. The James River is navigable for small vessels as high as

Richmond; but just above the town there is a barrier which arrests alike

the navigator's course and the traveller's eye. This barrier is called

the Rapids, and is a most beautiful feature in the scenery.

The Rapids are about three-quarters of a mile in extent, having a fall

of more than one hundred feet in that distance. The stream is broad, and

interspersed with endless little wooded islands and rocks, around and

above which it dashes the spray and foam in its impetuous descent. The

climate is lovely, the atmosphere pearly; and when, from the height

above, you look down upon the panorama spread beneath your feet, it

recalls to the mind the beautiful view so many of us must have

frequently been entranced with, while inhaling the meditative weed and

strolling along Richmond-terrace on a summer afternoon, gazing on old

Father Thames glowing in the rays of a setting sun, and looking doubly

bright from the sombre shade of the venerable timber which fringes the

margin of this sluggish stream. Pardon this digression; those only who

have wandered so far away can feel the indefinite, indescribable

pleasure with which one grasps at anything that recals the home of one's

affections, the scenes of early days, and the dear friends who are still

enjoying them.

The best place for reviewing the Rapids is from the drive leading to the

Cemetery, which here, as in most large American towns, is one of the

prettiest spots in the neighbourhood; but the Rapids are not only

ornamental, they are eminently useful. They afford a water-power to

several mills, one of which, the Gallego Flour-Mill, is a splendid

establishment, six stories high, nearly one hundred feet square, and

capable of sending out daily 1200 barrels of flour. The flour is of very

superior quality, the brand fetching a higher price than that of most

others in the country. There are also rolling-mills, cotton and tobacco

factories; the latter of course in great quantities, as tobacco is one

of the chief products of the state, and rapidly increasing. The produce

entered in Richmond, which in 1851 was under 16,000 hogsheads, in 1852

amounted to more than 24,000, and is now very probably above 30,000.

Virginia has the honour of being the first State that raised cotton, the

cultivation whereof was commenced in the year 1662.

Let us pass on to the hill at the eastern extremity of the city,

commanding a panoramic view of the river below the town, and all the

surrounding country. One spot arrests the attention, a spot closed with

the deepest and most romantic interest. A solitary tree, to which no

sacrilegious hand has yet dared to apply the axe, stands a few miles

down the river, on the same side as the town, and marks the site of the

lodge of the venerable old chieftain, Powhattan, when as yet the colony

was in its infancy, and when the Indian and the white man--the spoiler

and the spoiled--were looking at each other with mutual distrust, deep

fear on one side and dark foreboding on the other. The Indian is no

more; and nought remains as a memorial of this chief who once ruled this

fertile land with absolute sway, except this solitary tree;--and what an

episode in the history of colonization does that tree recal! Who can

forget that, when despair was the Colonists' daily bread, when nought

but the energy and genius of Smith--a man of very ordinary name, but of

no ordinary character--kept hope flickering in its socket, an attack of

Indians made him a prisoner, and left them hopeless. Then, how romantic

the tale of his captivity! He betrayed no fear, but retained perfect

self-possession; and remembering how easy their superstitious minds

could be worked upon, he drew forth, and with great solemnity commenced

looking steadily at his pocket-compass, and thence to heaven,

alternating between the two, until he impressed them with a feeling of

awe, as though he were a superior being communing with the Great Spirit.

This feeling gradually wearing off, the captors insisted upon his death,

as an expiation for the many injuries they had experienced at the hands

of the whites. The tribe meet, the block is prepared, the captive's neck

is laid ready, the upraised tomahawk, held by a brawny Indian arm, whose

every muscle quivers with revenge, glitters in the sunbeams; swarthy

figures around, thirsting for blood, anxiously await the sacrifice of

the victim, already too long delayed. Hope has fled from the captive's

breast, and he is communing in earnest with the Great Spirit into whose

presence he is about to be so sadly and speedily ushered. Suddenly a

shriek is heard! At that well-known voice the savage arm falls helpless

at its side, as, stretched upon the neck of the despairing captive, lies

the lovely daughter of Powhattan, with tearful eye, and all the wild

energy of her race, vowing she will not survive the butchery of her

kindest friend. Ruthless hands would tear her away, and complete the

bloody tragedy. Who dares lay even a finger upon the noble daughter of

their adored chief? They stand abashed, revenge and doubt striving in

their hearts; the eloquence of love and mercy pleading irresistibly from

the eyes of Pocahontas. The tomahawk, upraised by man's revenge for the

work of a captive's death, descends, when moved by woman's tears, to cut

a captive's bonds.

Callous indeed must that man's heart be, who can gaze upon the spot

where the noble Pocahontas--reared among savages, 'mid the solemn

grandeur of the forest, and beneath, the broad canopy of heaven, with no

Gospel light to guide and soften--received the holy impulses of love and

mercy fresh from her Maker's hand; and how gratifying to remember, that

she who had thus early imbibed these sacred feelings, became soon after

a convert to Christianity. Alas! how short her Christian career.

Marrying Mr. J. Rolfe, she died in childbirth ere she had reached her

twenty-fifth year, and from her many of the oldest families in Virginia

at this day have their origin. Virginia, as is well known, has always

been considered an aristocratic State; and it is a kind of joke--in

allusion to this Indian origin--for other States to speak disparagingly

of the F.F.Vs.--_alias_ first families of Virginia. Let those who sneer,

seek carefully amid their musty ancestral rolls for a nobler heart than

that of Pocahontas, the joy of Powhattan's house and the pride of all

his tribe. How strange, that a scene so well known as the foregoing, and

a life so adventurous as that of Smith, has never yet engaged the pen of

a Cooper or a Bulwer!

One of my friends in New York had given me a letter to a gentleman in

Richmond, at whose house I called soon after my arrival, as my stay was

necessarily short. He was out in the country, at his plantation. This

disappointment I endeavoured to rectify by enclosing the letter; but

when I had done so, Sambo could not tell me how to address it, as he was

in ignorance both of the place and its distance. In this dilemma, and

while ransacking my brain-box how to remedy the difficulty, a lady came

in, and having passed me, Sambo--grinning through a _chevaux-de-frise_

of snow-white ivories--informed me that was "his Missus." I instantly

sent the letter in to her to receive its direction, and in lieu of my

letter received an immediate summons to walk in. Nothing could be more

lady-like and cordial than the reception she gave me. Shy as I am, she

immediately put me quite at my ease; in less than a quarter of an hour I

felt I was in the society of an old friend; and during my stay in

Richmond, each day found me in the same snug corner of the sofa, near

the fire, enjoying the society of one of the most amiable and agreeable

ladies it has ever been my good fortune to meet. The husband soon

returned from the plantation, and then all the hospitalities of the

house were as much at my disposal as if it had been my own, and one or

the other of these kind friends, if not both, daily lionized me over

Richmond or its neighbourhood. I feel sure, that any of my countrymen

who have visited this city when Mr. and Mrs. Stanard were staying in

town, will readily hear testimony to their kind hospitality and

agreeable society.

There are various public buildings here, among the most conspicuous of

which is the Capitol, built in the great public square, and from its

summit commanding a splendid panoramic view. There are also about thirty

churches, one of which, the Monumental Church--which is

Episcopalian--stands upon ground of melancholy recollections; for here,

in 1811, stood the theatre, which during that year was utterly consumed

by a fire, in which the governor and scores of other human beings

perished. One great cause of the destruction of life was, having the

doors of the building fitted to open inwards--a custom, the folly of

which is only equalled by its universality. At the cry of fire, the rush

to the doors was so great that it was impossible to open them, owing to

the pressure. The only avenues of escape were the windows, in retreating

through which, the greater number of those few who succeeded in escaping

suffered the most serious injuries. How is this absurd practice of doors

opening inwards to be stopped? What think you if Insurance Companies

would combine, and make people forfeit their insurance if they entered

any public building whose doors were so fitted; or perhaps the

Chancellor of the Exchequer might bring in a bill to levy a very heavy

tax on all public buildings the doors of which opened in this dangerous

manner, and containing a stringent clause compelling managers and all

parties concerned to support the widows and orphans, and pay the

doctors' fees, arising from accidents caused therefrom. Alas! I fear

until--as Sydney Smith would say--we reduce a few cabinet ministers and

a leading member or two of the House of Peers to cinders, we shall go on

in our folly, because our ancestors did so before us.

Among other places I went to was the public billiard-room, and on

entering, my sympathies were immediately aroused by seeing a lad about

thirteen or fourteen, with a very extensive flaming choker on, above

which was a frightful large swelling. Not being a medical man, I was

very much puzzled when I saw the said swelling move about like a penny

roll in a monkey's cheek; presently the sympathy fled, and the puzzle

was solved, as a shower of 'bacco juice deluged the floor. Poor boy! it

must have taken him an hour's hard work to have got the abominable mass

in, and it could only have been done by instalments: the size it had

reached would have broken any jaw to remove in the lump; but he seemed

to have no idea of parting with his treasure, which, to do him justice,

he rolled about with as much ease as if he had had a monkey-teacher

before him from his cradle; nor did it prevent his betting away in a

style that quite astonished a steady old gentleman like myself.

The State of Virginia, like all the other States of the Union, is

undergoing the increasing pressure of democracy:[AJ] one of its

features--which is peculiarly obnoxious to the more sober-minded of the

community--is the new arrangement for the division of the electoral

districts, and which goes by the name of "Gerymander." In the early days

of the Republic, all divisions were made by straight lines, or as near

straight as possible; but that fair and natural mode of division is not

considered by the autocratic democracy as sufficiently favourable to

their views; and the consequence is, that other divisions have been

substituted, most irregular in shape, so as if possible to annihilate

entirely the already weakened opposition. This operation, my informant

told me, acquired a kind of celebrity in Massachusetts some years ago;

and, in the discussions upon the subject in their State legislature, one

of the speakers is said to have compared some of these arbitrary

divisions to a salamander which, in their outline they somewhat

resembled. The governor of the State was of the democratic party, and

therefore supporting and encouraging these changes, and his name was

"Gery;" so a wag interrupted the speaker, exclaiming, "Don't say

salamander; call it Gerymander,"--by which name it has been known since

that day.

I may here as well mention a little occurrence I witnessed, which,

however pleasant it may have been to the democratic rowdies enacting it,

must have been anything but agreeable to those operated upon. A fire

company was out trying its engine and hoses, and followed of course by a

squad of the idle and unwashed. Arrived at the market-place, they tried

its range; that appeared satisfactory enough; but the idea seems to

have struck the man who held the hose-end, that range without good aim

was useless: he accordingly looked round for a target, and a glass coach

passing by at the time, it struck him as peculiarly suited for his

experiment. Two elderly females were inside, and a white Jehu on the

box. In the most deliberate manner he pointed his weapon, amidst

encouraging shouts from bystanders, and increasing zeal on the part of

the pumpers; lucidly the windows were closed, or the ladies would have

been drenched; as it was, the gushing stream rattled against the

carriage, then fixed itself steadily upon poor Jehu, frightening the

horses and nearly knocking him off the box. Naturally enough Jehu was

highly incensed, and pulled up; then getting off the box, he walked up

to his assailants, who received him with shouts of laughter; the horses,

left without a ruler, started off at a gallop, Jehu ran after them, but

luckily another person and myself rushed up, and stopped them before any

accident occurred.

All this took place at noonday, and not a voice was raised against it.

If I had presumed to interfere with this liberty of the subject, the

chances are I should have been tied to one of the posts of the

market-place and made to stand target for an hour. It must be a charming

thing when the masses rule supreme. Fancy St. James's-street, upon a

drawing-room day, full of a pleasant little water-dispensing community

such as this;--what cheers they would raise as a good shot took off some

Jarvy's cocked-hat and bob-wig, or sent his eighteen-inch-diameter

bouquet flying into the street!--then what fun to play upon the padded

calves and silk stockings of Patagonian John, as he stood behind!--and

only imagine the immense excitement, if by good luck they could smash

some window and deluge a live aristocrat! What a nice thing a pure

democracy must be! how the majority must enjoy themselves! how the

minority must rejoice at the mild rule of bone over brain! What a

glorious idea, equality! only excelled by that gigantic conception of

Messrs. Cobden and Co., yclept the Peace Society, upon which such a

bloody comment was enacted before Sevastopol.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote AD: General Cadwallader, whose hospitality is well known to

all strangers visiting Philadelphia.]

[Footnote AE: Alas! she has since met a melancholy death, being

accidentally poisoned in Mexico, on the 18th of June, 1854; but her fame

is as imperishable as her life was stainless.]

[Footnote AF: The origin of ten-pins is amusing enough, and is as

follows:--The State having passed an act, during a time when religious

fervour was at high pressure, prohibiting nine-pin alleys, a tenth pin

was added, and the law evaded. In the meantime, high pressure went below

the boiling point, and the ten-pin alley remains to this day, an

amusement for the people, and a warning to indiscreet legislators.]

[Footnote AG: The commercial prosperity of South Carolina appears to be

increasing steadily, if not rapidly. The cotton produce was--

In 1847. In 1852.

Bales, main land 336,562 472,338

Ditto, sea islands 13,529 20,500

------- -------

Total 350,091 492,838

------- -------

Rice in 1847 146,260 tierces.

Do. in 1852 137,497 ditto.

The average value of the bale (450lbs.) of main land cotton is from

6l. to 8l. sterling; of the sea-island cotton, from 30_l_ to 36l.

sterling. The average price of a tierce of rice (600lbs.) is from 3l.

5s. to 4l.]

[Footnote AH: Independent of the enormous charge of fifty per cent. on

the taxes you pay, there is also a small fine for each parade missed.]

[Footnote AI: _Vide_ chapter on "Military Education."]

[Footnote AJ: _Vide_ chapter on "The Constitution."]

CHAPTER XV.

_From a River to a Racecourse_.

Having enjoyed as much of the hospitalities of my kind friends as time

permitted, I obtained a letter of introduction, and, embarking in a

steamer, started for Williamsburg, so called after King William III. On

our way down, we picked up as healthy and jolly a set of little ducks in

their 'teens as one could wish to see. On inquiring what this aggregate

of rosy cheeks and sunny smiles represented, I was informed they were

the sum total of a ladies' school at Williamsburg--and a very charming

sum total they were. Having a day's holiday, they had come up by the

early steamer to pic-nic on the banks, and were now returning to

chronology and crotchet-work, or whatever else their studies might be.

Landing at King's Mills, a "'bus" took us all up to Williamsburg, a

distance of three or four miles, one half of which was over as dreary a

road as need be, and the other through a shady forest grove.

This old city is composed of a straight street, at one end of which is

the establishment occupied by the rosy cheeks of whom we have been

speaking, and which is very neat and clean-looking; at the other

end--only with half a mile of country intervening--is the college. On

each side of the said street is a crescent of detached houses, with a

common before them. The population is 1500, and has not varied--as far

as I could learn--in the memory of the oldest inhabitant. I naturally

felt very much interest in visiting this place, as it was originally the

seat of the royal government, and my grandfather had been the last

governor of the state. The body of the old palace was burnt down by

accident, while occupied by French troops, in 1782. The foundations,

which were six feet thick, are still traceable, although most of the

bricks have been used for the buildings in the neighbourhood. The

outlines of the old garden and its terraces may also be traced, and a

very charming spot it must have been. There are two beautiful

lime-trees in a thriving state, which, I was told, he had planted

himself from seeds he had brought from home. His thoughts were evidently

on that far-off home when he planted them; for, as to position

relatively to each other and distance from the old palace, they

precisely coincide with two beneath which many of my early days were

passed, at the old family mansion of Glenfinarl, on Loch Fine, which has

since become the property of Mr. Douglas.

There is an old ditch in the neighbourhood, which goes by the name of

Lord Dunmore's Ditch. The history which my informant gave me thereof is

absurd enough, and there is a negro of the name of Isaac still living

who remembers all the circumstances. It appears that Lord Dunmore,

having found fault with an Irish labourer for not doing sufficient work,

Paddy replied, "'Faith, if 'twas yer 'onnur that had the shpade in yer

hand, maybe one-half would satisfy yer 'onnur." The Governor, who

happened to be a man of iron frame, and not at all averse to a joke,

immediately took up Paddy's challenge, and replied, "Paddy, I'll work

four hours against you in a ditch for a month's wages." The combatants

set to work the following morning, and at the end of four hours Paddy

was obliged to confess himself beaten, and the result of my

grandfather's labours goes by the name of Lord Dunmore's Ditch to this

day.

The only parts of the old palace still standing are the two wings, one

of which is now the parsonage, and the other a school, which is kept by

an Englishman, educated at one of our universities, and living here for

his health. This place is both a well-chosen and a favourite locality

for schools, being situated upon a high plateau of land, with James

River on one side and York River on the other; consequently, the air is

peculiarly healthy and pure.

The most imposing, if not the most useful, of the scholastic

establishments is the college, which was founded by William and Mary in

the year 1692. It contains a very fair library of old books, but

comparatively few additions appear to have been made in latter years.

The building bears every internal mark of neglect and dilapidation,

defaced walls, broken plaster, &c. Upon entering the lecture-room, a

quantity of eighteen-inch square boxes full of moisture suggest the idea

of a rainy day and a roofless chamber. Be not deceived: these are

merely receptacles for the discharge of the students' 'bacco juice; and

the surrounding floor gives painful demonstration that their free

spirits scorn the trammels of eighteen-inch boundaries, however

profusely supplied. From what causes I cannot say, but the college has

been all but deserted until lately. The present authorities are striving

to infuse into it a little vitality of usefulness. With these simple

facts before me, it was amusing to read, in an American gazetteer of the

day, that the college "is at present in a flourishing condition."

In front of the college there is an enclosed green, and in the centre a

statue, erected in honour of one of the old royal governors, Berkeley,

Lord Bowtetort. Whether from a desire to exhibit their anti-aristocratic

sentiments, or from innate Vandalism, or from a childish wish to exhibit

independence by doing mischief, the said statue is the pistol-mark for

the students, who have exhibited their skill as marksmen by its total

mutilation, in spite of all remonstrances from the authorities. The

college was formerly surrounded by magnificent elms, but a few years

since a blight came which destroyed every one of them, leaving the

building in a desert-like nakedness. The inn at Williamsburg is a

miserable building, but it is kept by as kind-hearted, jolly old

John-Bull-looking landlord as ever was seen, and who rejoices in the

name of Uncle Ben. Meat is difficult to get at, as there are no

butchers; the cream and butter are, however, both plentiful and

excellent. The house is almost entirely overshadowed by one magnificent

elm, which has fortunately escaped the blight that annihilated nearly

all its fellows.

After the hustle of most American cities, there was to me an unspeakable

charm in the quiet of this place. Sitting at the inn-door, before you

lies the open green, with its daisies and buttercups; horses and cattle

are peaceably grazing; in the background are the remaining wings of the

old palace; to your left stands the old village church, built with

bricks brought from England, and long since mellowed by the hand of

time, around which the clinging ivy throws the venerable mantle of its

dark and massive foliage. Now, the summoning church-bell tolls its

solemn note; school children, with merry laugh and light step, cross the

common; the village is astir, and a human tide is setting towards its

sacred portals: all, all speaks to the heart and to the imagination of

happy days and happy scenes in a far-off land. You close your eyes, the

better to realize the dream which fancy is painting. When they open upon

the reality again, the illusion is dispelled by the sight of a brawny

negro, with a grin on his face which threatens to split his ears,

jogging merrily along the street with a huge piece of sturgeon for his

Sunday feast. My friends, however, left me little time to indulge in a

contemplative mood, for good old Madeira, a hearty welcome, and a stroll

about and around the place, filled up the day; while the fragrant weed

and the social circle occupied no small portion of the evening. Having

spent a few but very pleasant days here, I took leave of my hospitable

friends--not forgetting that jovial soul, Uncle Ben; then embarking in a

steamer, and armed with a solitary letter of introduction, I started off

to visit a plantation on the banks of James River.

A planter's home, like the good Highland laird's, seems made of India

rubber. Without writing to inquire whether the house is full, or your

company agreeable, you consider the former improbable and the latter

certain. When you approach your victim, a signal is thrown out; the

answer is a boat; in you get, bag and baggage; you land at the foot of

his lawn or of some little adjoining pier, and thus apparently force

yourself upon his hospitality. Reader, if it is ever your good fortune

to be dropped with a letter of introduction at Shirley, one glance from

the eye of the amiable host and hostess, accompanied by a real shake of

the hand, satisfy you beyond doubt you are truly and heartily welcome. A

planter's house on James River reminds one in many ways of the old

country. The building is old, the bricks are of the brownest red, and in

many places concealed by ivy of colonial birth; a few venerable monarchs

of the forest throw their ample shade over the greensward, which slopes

gently down to the water. The garden, the stables, the farm-yard, the

old gates, the time-honoured hues of everything,--all is so different

from the new facing and new painting which prevails throughout the

North, that you feel you are among other elements; and if you go inside

the house, the thoughts also turn homeward irresistibly as the eye

wanders from object to object. The mahogany table and the old

dining-room chairs, bright with that dark ebony polish of time which

human ingenuity vainly endeavours to imitate; the solid bookcases, with

their quaint gothic-windowly-arranged glass-doors, behind which, in calm

and dusty repose, lie heavy patriarchal-looking tomes on the lower

shelves, forming a sold basis above which to place lighter and less

scholastic literature; an arm-chair, that might have held the invading

Caesar, and must have been second-hand in the days of the conquering

William; a carpet, over whose chequered face the great Raleigh might

have strolled in deep contemplation; a rug, on whose surface generations

of spinsters might have watched the purrings of their pet Toms or gazed

on the glutinous eyes and inhaled the loaded breeze that came from the

fat and fragrant Pug: whichever way the eye turned, whatever direction

the imagination took, the conviction forced upon the mind was, that you

were in an inheritance, and that what the wisdom and energy of one

generation had gathered together, succeeding generations had not yet

scattered to the winds by the withering blast of infinitesimal division.

With the imagination thus forcibly filled with home and its

associations, you involuntarily feel disposed to take a stroll on the

lawn; but on reaching the door, your ears are assailed by wild shouts of

infantine laughter, and, raising your eyes, you behold a dozen little

black imps skylarking about in every direction, their fat faces, bright

eyes, and sunny smiles beaming forth joyousness and health. Home and its

varying visions fly at the sight, giving place to the reality that you

are on a slave plantation. Of the slaves I shall say nothing here beyond

the general fact that they appeared healthy, well fed, and well clothed

on all the plantations I visited. Having enjoyed the hospitalities of

Shirley for a few days, it was agreed that I should make a descent upon

another property lower down the river. So, bidding adieu to my good

friends at Shirley, I embarked once more on the steamer, and was landed

at the pier of Brandon, in the most deluging rain imaginable. A walk of

a quarter of a mile brought me to the door like a drowned rat, a note

from my Shirley friends secured me an immediate and cordial welcome.

Brandon is perhaps the plantation which is more thoroughly kept up than

any other on the James River, and which consequently has altered less.

I am alluding now to the house and grounds about, not to the plantation

at large; for I believe the proprietor at Shirley is reckoned A1 as a

farmer. I have before alluded to the blight which destroyed so many fine

elms on both shores of the James River. The withering insect appeared at

Brandon; but the lady of the house soon proved that she knew the use of

tobacco as well as the men, by turning a few hogsheads of the said weed

into water, making thereby a murderous decoction, with which, by the

intervention of a fire-engine, she utterly annihilated the countless

hosts of the all-but invisible enemy, and thus saved some of the finest

elms I ever saw in my life, under the shade of which the old family

mansion had enjoyed shelter from many a summer's sun. Brandon is the

only place I visited where the destroyer had not left marks of his

ravages. The lawn is beautifully laid out, and in the style of one of

our country villas of the olden time, giving every assurance of comfort

and every feeling of repose. The tropical richness and brightness of

leaf and flower added an inexpressible charm to them, as they stood out

in bold relief against the pure and cloudless air around, so different

from that indistinct outline which is but too common in our moist

atmosphere. Then there was the graceful and weeping willow, the

trembling aspen, the wild ivy, its white bloom tinged as with maiden's

blush; the broad-leafed catalpa; the magnolia, rich in foliage and in

flower; while scattered around were beds of bright and lovely colours.

The extremes of this charming view were bounded, either by the venerable

mansion over whose roof the patriarchal elms of which we have been

speaking threw their cool and welcome shade, or by the broad stream

whose bosom was ever and anon enlivened with some trim barque or

rapid-gliding steamer, and whose farther shore was wooded to the water's

edge. There is one of the finest China rose-trees here I ever beheld; it

covers a space of forty feet square, being led over on trellis-work, and

it might extend much beyond that distance: it is one mass of flowers

every year. Unfortunately, I was a week too late to see it in its glory;

but the withered flowers gave ample evidence how splendid it must have

been.

In one of my drives, I went to see an election which took place in the

neighbourhood. The road for some distance lay through a forest full of

magnificent timber; but, like most forest timber, that which gives it a

marketable value destroys its picturesque effect. A few noble

stems--however poor their heads--have a fine effect when surrounded by

others which have had elbow-room; but a forest of stems, with

Lilliputian heads--great though the girth of the stem may be--conveys

rather the idea of Brobdingnagian piles driven in by giants, and

exhibiting the last flickerings of vitality in a few puny sprouts at

their summit. The underwood was enlivened by shrubs of every shade and

hue, the wild flowering ivy predominating. The carriage-springs were

tested by an occasional drop of the wheels into a pit-hole, on merging

from which you came sometimes to a hundred yards of rut of dimensions

similar to those of military approaches to a citadel; nevertheless, I

enjoyed my drive excessively. The place of election was a romantic spot

near a saw-mill, at the edge of what, in a gentleman's park in England,

would be called a pretty little lake, styled in America a small pond. As

each party arrived, the horse was hitched to the bough of some tree, and

the company divided itself into various knots; a good deal of tobacco

was expended in smoke and juice; there was little excitement; all were

jolly and friendly; and, in short, the general scene conveyed the idea

of a gathering together for field-preaching; but that was speedily

replaced by the idea of a pleasant pic-nic of country farmers, as a

dashing charge was made by the whole _posse comitatus_ upon a long table

which was placed under a fine old elm, and lay groaning beneath the

weight of substantial meat and drink. As for drunkenness, they were all

as sober as washerwomen. So much for a rural election-scene in Virginia.

By way of making time pass agreeably, it was proposed to take a sail in

a very nice yacht, called "The Breeze," which belonged to a neighbouring

planter. We all embarked, in the cool of the evening, and the merry

laugh would soon have told you the fair sex was fairly represented.

Unfortunately, the night was so still that not a breath rippled the

surface of the river, except as some inquisitive zephyr came curling

along the stream, filling us with hope, and then, having satisfied its

curiosity, suddenly disappeared, as though in mockery of our distress.

The name of the yacht afforded ample field for punning, which was

cruelly taken advantage of by all of us; and if our cruise was not a

long one, at all events it was very pleasant, and full of fun and

frolic. Pale Cinthia was throwing her soft and silvery light over the

eastern horizon before we landed.

Walking up the lawn, the scene was altogether lovely; the fine trees

around were absolutely alive with myriads of fire-flies. These bright

and living lights, darting to and fro 'mid the dark foliage, formed the

most beautiful illumination imaginable--at one time clustering into a

ball of glowing fire, at another streaking away in a line of lightning

flame; then, bursting into countless sparks, they would for a moment

disappear in the depths of their sombre bower, to come forth again in

some more varied and more lovely form.

Pleasant indeed were the hours I passed here; lovely was the climate,

beautiful was the landscape, hearty was the welcome: every day found

some little plan prepared to make their hospitality more pleasant to the

stranger; nature herself seemed to delight in aiding their efforts, for

though I arrived in a deluge, I scarce ever saw a cloud afterwards. As

the morning light stole through my open window in undimmed transparency,

the robin, the blue-bird, the mocking-bird, the hosts of choral

warblers, held their early oratorio in the patriarchal elms. If

unskilled in music's science, they were unfettered by its laws, and

hymned forth their wild and varied notes as though calling upon man to

admire and adore the greatness and the goodness of his Maker, and to

"Shake off dull sloth, and early rise,

To pay his morning sacrifice."

If such were their appeal, it was not made in vain; for both morning and

evening--both here and at Shirley--every member and visitor gathered

round the family altar, the services of which were performed with equal

cheerfulness and reverence. I felt as if I could have lingered on and on

in this charming spot, and amid such warm hospitality, an indefinite

period; it was indeed with sincere regret I was obliged to bid adieu to

my agreeable hosts, and once more embark on board the steamer.

The river James lacks entirely those features that give grandeur to

scenery; the river, it is true, by its tortuous windings, every now and

then presents a broad sheet of water; the banks are also prettily

wooded; but there is a great sameness, and a total absence of that

mountain scenery so indispensable to grandeur. The only thing that

relieves the eye is a glimpse, from time to time, of some lovely spot

like the one I have just been describing; but such charming villas, like

angel's visits, are "few and far between." Here we are, at Norfolk. How

different is this same Norfolk from the other eastern ports I have

visited!--there all is bustle, activity, and increase,--here all is

dreariness, desolation, and stagnation. It is, without exception, the

most uninteresting town I ever set foot in; the only thing that gives it

a semblance of vitality is its proximity to the dockyard, and the

consequent appearance of officers in uniform; but in spite of this

impression, which a two-days' residence confirmed me in, I was told, on

good authority, that it is thriving and improving. By the statistics

which our consul, Mr. James, was kind enough to furnish me, it appears

that 1847 was the great year of its commercial activity, its imports in

that year valuing 94,000l., and its exports 364,000l. In 1852, the

imports were under 25,000l. and the exports a little more than

81,000l., which is certainly, by a comparison with the average of the

ten years preceding, an evidence of decreasing, rather than increasing,

commercial prosperity. Its population is 16,000; and that small

number--when it is remembered that it is the port of entry for the great

state of Virginia--is a strong argument against its asserted prosperity.

Not long before my arrival they had been visited with a perfect deluge

of rain, accompanied with a waterspout, which evidently had whirled up

some of the ponds in the neighbourhood; for quantities of cat-fish fell

during the storm, one of which, measuring ten inches, a friend told me

he had himself picked up at a considerable distance from any water.

The only real object of interest at Norfolk is the dockyard, which of

course I visited. Mr. James was kind enough to accompany me, and it is

needless to say we were treated with the utmost courtesy, and every

facility afforded us for seeing everything of interest, after which we

enjoyed an excellent lunch at the superintendent's. They were building a

splendid frigate, intended to carry 58-inch guns; her length was 250

feet, and her breadth of beam 48. Whether the manifest advantages of

steam will induce them to change her into a screw frigate, I cannot say.

The dockyard was very clean and the buildings airy. Steam, saw-mills,

&c., were in full play, and anchors forging under Nasmyth's hammer, I

found them making large masts of four pieces--one length and no

scarfings--the root part of the tree forming the mast-head, and a very

large air-hole running up and down the centre. The object of this

air-hole is to allow the mast to season itself; the reader may remember

that the mast of the "Black Maria" is made the same way. As far as I

know, this is a plan we have not yet tried in our dockyards. I find that

they use metallic boats far more than we do. I saw some that had

returned after being four years in commission, which were perfectly

sound. To say that I saw fine boats and spars here, would be like a

traveller remarking he saw a great many coals at Newcastle. All waste

wood not used in the yard is given away every Saturday to any old woman

who will come and take it; and no searching of people employed in the

dockyard is ever thought of. The cattle employed in and for the dockyard

have a most splendid airy stable, and are kept as neat and clean as if

in a drawing-room. Materials are abundant; but naturally there is little

bustle and activity when compared to that which exists in a British

yard. Their small navy can hardly find them enough work to keep their

"hands in;" but doubtless the first knell of the accursed tocsin of war,

while it gave them enough to do, would soon fill their dockyards with

able and willing hands to do it. Commodore Ringold's surveying

expedition, consisting of a corvette, schooner, steamer, &c., was

fitting out for service, and most liberally and admirably were they

supplied with all requisites and comforts for their important duties.

During my stay I enjoyed the kind hospitalities of our consul, Mr.

G.P.E. James, who is so well known to the literary world. He was

indulging the good people of Norfolk with lectures, which seem to be all

the fashion with the Anglo-Saxon race wherever they are gathered

together. The subject which I heard him treat of was "The Novelists,"

handling some favourites with severity and others with a gentler touch,

and winding up with a glowing and just eulogy upon the author of _My

Novel_. Altogether I spent a very pleasant hour and a half.

I may here mention a regulation of the Foreign-office, which, however

necessary it may be considered, every one must admit presses very hardly

on British _employés_ in the Slave States. I allude to the regulation by

which officials are prevented from employing other people's slaves as

their servants. White men soon earn enough money to be enabled to set

up in some trade, business, or farm, and, as service is looked down

upon, they seize the first opportunity of quitting it, even although

their comforts may be diminished by the change. Free negroes won't

serve, and the official must not employ a slave; thus, a gentleman sent

out to look after the interest of his country, and in his own person to

uphold its dignity, must either submit to the dictation and extortion of

his white servant--if even then he can keep him--or he may be called

upon suddenly, some fine morning, to do all the work of housemaid, John,

cook, and knife and button boy, to the neglect of those duties he was

appointed by his country to perform, unless he be a married man with a

large family, in which case he may perhaps delegate to them the

honourable occupations, above named. Surely there is something a little

puritanical in the prohibition. To hold a slave is one thing, but to

employ the labour of one who is a slave, and over whose hopes of freedom

you have no control, is quite another thing; and I hold that, under the

actual circumstances, the employment of another's slave could never he

so distorted in argument as to bring home a charge of connivance in a

system we so thoroughly repudiate.

Go to the East, follow in imagination your ambassadors, ministers, and

consular authorities. Behold them on the most friendly terms--or

striving to be so--with people in high places, who are but too often

revelling in crimes, with the very name of which they would scorn even

to pollute their lips; and I would ask, did such a monstrous absurdity

ever enter into any one's head as to doubt from these amicable relations

whether the Government of this country or its agents repudiated such

abomination of abominations? If for political purposes you submit to

this latter, while for commercial purposes you refuse to tolerate the

former, surely you are straining at a black gnat while swallowing a

beastly camel. Such, good people of the Foreign-office, is my decided

view of the case; and if you profit by the hint, you will do what I

believe no public body ever did yet. Perhaps, therefore, the idea of

setting the fashion may possibly induce you to reconsider and rectify an

absurdity, which, while no inconvenience to you, is often a very great

one to those you employ. It is wonderful, the difference in the view

taken of affairs by actors on the spot and spectators at a distance. A

man who sees a fellow-creature half crushed to death and crippled for

life by some horrible accident, is too often satisfied with little more

than a passing "Good gracious!" but if, on his returning homeward, some

gigantic waggon-wheel scrunch the mere tip of his toes, or annihilate a

bare inch of his nose, his ideas of the reality of an accident become

immensely enlarged.

Let the Foreign Secretary try for a couple of days some such _régime_ as

the following:--

5 A.M. Light fires, fetch water, and put kettle on.

6 " Dust room and make beds.

7 " Clean shoes, polish knives, and sand kitchen.

7:30 " Market for dinner.

8:30 " Breakfast.

9 " To Downing-street, light fires, and dust office.

10 " Sit down comfortably(?) to work.

1:30 P.M. Off to coal-hole for more coals.

4 " Sweep up, and go home.

5 " Off coat, up sleeves, and cook.

6:30 " Eat dinner.

7 " Wash up.

8 " Light your pipe, walk to window, and see your

colleague over the way, with a couple of Patagonian

footmen flying about amid a dozen guests, while, to

give additional zest to your feelings of enjoyment,

a couple of buxom lassies are peeping out of the

attics, and singing like crickets.

9 " Make your own reflections upon the Government

that dooms you to personal servitude, while your

colleague is allowed purchaseable service. Sleep

over the same, and repeat the foregoing _régime_ on

the second day; and, filled with the happy influences

so much cause for gratitude must inspire, give

reflection her full tether, and sleep over her again.

On the third morning, let your heart and brain

dictate a despatch upon the subject of your reflections

to all public servants in slave-holding communities,

and, while repudiating slavery, you will

find no difficulty in employing the services of the

slave, under peculiar circumstances, and with proper

restrictions.

I embarked from Norfolk per steamer for Baltimore, and thence by rail

through Philadelphia to New York. I took a day's hospitality among my

kind friends at Baltimore. At Philadelphia I was in such a hurry to pass

on, that I exhibited what I fear many will consider a symptom of

inveterate bachelorship; but truth bids me not attempt to cloak my

delinquency. Hear my confession:--

My friend Mr. Fisher, whose hospitality I had drawn most largely upon

during my previous stay, invited me to come and pay him and his charming

lady a visit, at a delightful country house of his a few miles out of

town. Oh, no! that was impossible; my time was so limited; I had so much

to see in the north and Canada. In vain he urged, with hearty warmth,

that I should spend only one night: it was quite impossible--quite. That

point being thoroughly settled, he said, "It is a great pity you are so

pressed for time, because the trotting champion, 'Mac,' runs against a

formidable antagonist, 'Tacony,' to-morrow." In half an hour I was in

his waggon, and in an hour and a half I was enjoying the warm greeting

of his amiable wife in their country-house, the blush of shame and a

guilty conscience tinging my cheeks as each word of welcome passed from

her lips or flashed from her speaking eyes. Why did I thus act? Could I

say, in truth, "'Twas not that I love thee less, but that I love Tacony

more?" Far from it. Was it that I was steeped in ingratitude? I trust

not. Ladies, oh, ladies!--lovely creatures that you are--think not so

harshly of a penitent bachelor. You have all read of one of your sex

through whom Evil--which takes its name from, her--first came upon

earth, and you know the motive power of that act was--curiosity. I plead

guilty to that motive power on the present occasion; and, while throwing

myself unreservedly on your clemency, I freely offer myself as a target

for the censure of each one among you who, in the purity of truth can

say, "I never felt such an influence in all my life." Reader, remember

you cannot be one of these, for the simple fact of casting your eyes

over this page affords sufficient presumptive evidence for any court of

law to bring you in guilty of a curiosity to know what the writer has to

say.--To resume.

The race-course at Philadelphia is a road on a perfect level, and a

circle of one mile; every stone is carefully removed, and it looks as

smooth and clean as a swept floor. The stand commands a perfect view of

the course; but its neglected appearance shows clearly that

trotting-matches here are not as fashionable as they used to be, though

far better attended than at New York. Upon the present occasion the

excitement was intense; you could detect it even in the increased vigour

with which the smoking and spitting was carried on. An antagonist had

been found bold enough to measure speed with "Mac"--the great Mac who,

while "Whipping creation," was also said never to have let out his full

speed. He was thorough-bred, about fifteen and a half hands, and lighter

built than my raw-boned friend Tacony, and he had lately been sold for

1600l. So sure did people apparently feel of Mac's easy victory, that

even betting was out of the question. Unlike the Long Island affair, the

riders appeared in jockey attire, and the whole thing was far better got

up. Ladies, however, had long ceased to grace such scenes.

Various false starts were made, all on the part of Mac, who, trusting to

the bottom of blood, apparently endeavoured to ruffle Tacony's temper

and weary him out a little. How futile were the efforts the sequel

plainly showed. At length a start was effected, and away they went,

Tacony with his hind legs as far apart as the centre arch of Westminster

Bridge, and with strides that would almost clear the Bridgewater Canal.

Mac's rider soon found that, in trying to ginger Tacony's temper, he had

peppered his own horse's, for he broke-up into a gallop twice. Old

Tacony and his rider had evidently got intimate since I had seen them at

New York, and they now thoroughly understood each other. On he went,

with giant strides; Mac fought bravely for the van, but could not get

his nose beyond Tacony's saddle-girth at the winning-post--time, 2m.

25-1/2s.

Then, followed the usual race-course accompaniments of cheers,

squabbles, growling, laughing, betting, drinking, &c. The public were

not convinced. Mac was still the favourite; the champion chaplet was not

thus hastily to be plucked from his hitherto victorious brows. Half an

hour's rest brought them again to the starting-post, where Mac repeated

his old tactics, and with similar bad success. Nothing could ruffle

Tacony, or produce one false step: he flew round the course, every

stride like the ricochet of a 32lb. shot; his adversary broke-up again

and again, losing both his temper and his place, and barely saved his

distance, as the gallant Tacony--his rider with a slack rein, and

patting him on the neck--reached the winning-post--time, 2m. 25s. The

shouts were long and loud; such time had never been made before by fair

trotting, and Tacony evidently could have done it in two, if not three

seconds less. The fastest pacing ever accomplished before was 2m. 13s.,

and the fastest trotting 2m. 26s. The triumph was complete; Tacony nobly

won the victorious garland; and as long as he and his rider go together,

it will take, if not a rum 'un to look at, at all events a d----l to

go, ere he be forced to resign his championship.

The race over, waggons on two wheels and waggons on four wheels, with

trotters in them capable of going the mile in from 2m. 40s. to 3m. 20s.,

began to shoot about in every direction, and your ears were assailed on

all sides with "G'lang, g'lang!" and occasionally a frantic yell, to

which some Jehu would give utterance by way of making some horse that

was passing him "break-up." Thus ended the famous race between Mac and

Tac, which, by the way, gave me an opportunity of having a little fun

with some of my American friends, as I condoled with them on their

champion being beaten by a British subject; for, strange to say, Tac is

a Canadian horse. I therefore of course expressed the charitable wish

that an American horse might be found some day equal to the task of

wearing the champion trotting crown(!)--I beg pardon, not crown, but,

I suppose, cap of liberty. I need scarce say that it is not so much the

horse as the perfect teaming that produces the result; and all Tac's

training is exclusively American, and received in a place not very far

from Philadelphia, from which he gets his name. A friend gave me a lift

into Philadelphia, whence the iron horse speedily bore me to the great

republican Babylon, New York.

CHAPTER XVI.

_Home of the Pilgrim Fathers_.

Having made the necessary preparations, I again put myself behind the

boiling kettle, _en route_ to the republican Athens. The day was

intensely hot; even the natives required the windows open, and the dust

being very lively, we soon became as powdered as a party going down to

the Derby in the ante-railway days. My curiosity was excited on the way,

by seeing a body of men looking like a regiment of fox-hunters--all well

got up, fine stout fellows--who entered, and filled two of the

carriages. On inquiring who kept the hounds, and if they had good runs,

a sly smile stole across my friend's cheek as he told me they were

merely the firemen of the city going to fraternize with the ditto ditto

of Boston. It stupidly never occurred to me to ask him whether any

provision was made in case of a quiet little fire developing itself

during their absence, for their number was legion, and as active,

daring, orderly-looking fellows as ever I set eyes upon. Jolly apopletic

aldermen of our capital may forsake the green fat of their soup-making

deity, to be feasted by their Parisian fraternity, without inconvenience

to anybody, except it be to their fellow-passengers in the steamer upon

their return, if they have been over-fed and have not tempest-tried

organs of digestion. But a useful body like firemen migrating should, I

confess, have suggested to me the propriety of asking what substitutes

were left to perform, if need be, their useful duties; not having done

so, I am constrained to leave this important point in its present

painful obscurity.

A thundering whistle and a cloud of steam announce the top is off the

kettle, and that we have reached Boston. Wishing to take my own luggage

in a hackney, I found that, however valuable for security the ticketing

system may be, it was, under circumstances like mine at present,

painfully trying to patience. In three-quarters of an hour, however, I

managed to get hold of it, and then, by way of improving my temper, I

ascertained that one of my boxes was in a state of "pretty considerable

all mighty smash." At last I got off with my goods and chattels, and

having seen quite enough of the American palace-hotels and their

bountifully-spread tables, and of the unrivalled energy with which the

meals are despatched; remembering, also, how frequently the drum of my

ears had been distracted by the eternal rattling and crackling of plates

and dishes for a couple of hundred people, and how my olfactories had

suffered from the mixed odours of the kitchen produce, I declined going

to the palatial Revere House, which is one of the best hotels in the

Union, and put up at a house of less pretensions, where I found both

quiet and comfort.

To write a description of Boston, when so many others have done so far

better than I can pretend to do, and when voluminous gazetteers record

almost every particular, would be drawing most unreasonably upon the

patience of a reader, and might further be considered as inferring a

doubt of his acquaintance with, I might almost say, a hackneyed subject.

I shall, therefore, only inflict a few short observations to refresh his

memory. The most striking feature in Boston, to my mind, is the common

or park, inasmuch as it is the only piece of ground in or attached to

any city which I saw deserving the name of a park. It was originally a

town cow-pasture, and called the Tower Fields. The size is about fifty

acres; it is surrounded with an iron fencing, and, although not large,

the lay of the ground is very pretty. It contains some very fine old

trees, which every traveller in America must know are a great rarity in

the neighbourhood of any populous town. It is overlooked by the

State-house, which is built upon Beacon Hill, just outside the highest

extremity of the park, and from the top of which a splendid panoramic

view of the whole town and neighbourhood is obtained. The State-house is

a fine building in itself, and contains one of Chantrey's best

works--the statue of Washington. The most interesting building in

Boston, to the Americans, is, undoubtedly, Faneuil Hall, called also the

"Cradle of Liberty." Within those walls the stern oratory of noble

hearts striving to be free, and daring to strike for it, was listened to

by thousands, in whose breasts a ready response was found, and who,

catching the glowing enthusiasm of the orators, determined rather to be

rebels and free than subjects and slaves: the sequel is matter of

history.

I shall not tax the temper of my reader by going through any further

list of the public buildings, which are sufficiently known to those who

take an interest in this flourishing community; but I must hasten to

apologize for my ingratitude in not sooner acknowledging that most

pleasing feature in every traveller's experience in America, which, I

need hardly say, is hospitality.

Scarce was my half-smashed box landed at the hotel, when my young

American friend, who came from England with our party, appeared to

welcome me--perhaps to atone for the lion's share of champagne he had

enjoyed at our table on board the steamer. Then he introduced me to

another, and another introduced me to another another, and another

another introduced me to another another another, and so on, till I

began to feel I must know the _élite_ of Boston. Club-doors flew open,

champagne-corks flew out, cicerones, pedal and vehicular, were ever

ready to guide me by day and feed me by night; and though there are no

drones in a Yankee hive, so thoroughly did they dedicate themselves to

my comfort and amusement, that a person ignorant of the true state of

things might have fancied they were as idle and occupationless as the

cigar-puffers who adorn some of our metropolitan-club steps, the envy of

passing butcher-boys and the liberal distributors of cigar-ends to

unwashed youths who hang about ready to pounce upon the delicious and

rejected morsels. Among other gentlemen whose acquaintance I had the

pleasure of making, and whose hospitalities, of course, I enjoyed, I may

mention Mr. Prescott and Mr. Ticknor, the former highly appreciated in

the old country, and both so widely known and so justly esteemed in the

world of literature. As I consider such men public property, I make no

apology for using their names, while in so doing I feel I am best

conveying to the reader some idea of the society which a traveller meets

with in Yankee Athens.

The town has one charm to me, which it shares in common with Baltimore.

Not only is it built on undulating ground, but there are old parts

remaining, whereby the eye is relieved from the tiring monotony of broad

and straight streets, while the newer parts form a pleasing variety, and

bear gratifying evidence of the increasing wealth of its intelligent

and industrious population. Then, again, the neighbourhood of the town

has a charm for a wanderer from the old country; the roads are

excellent, the fields and gardens are tidied up, creepers are led up the

cottage walls, suburban villas abound, everything looks more clean, more

_soigné_, more snug, more filled and settled than the neighbourhood of

any other city I visited in America, and thus forces back upon the mind

associations and reflections of dear old home.

Having enjoyed a visit to a friend in one of the suburban villas inland,

to which he drove me in his light waggon, another vehicular cicerone

insisted that I should drive out to his uncle's, and spend a day at his

marine villa, about twelve miles distant. I joyfully assented to so

pleasant a proposition, and, "hitching a three-forty before a light

waggon"--as the term is in America--we were soon bowling away merrily

along a capital road. A pleasant drive of nine miles brought us to a

little town called Lynn, after Lynn Regis in England, from which place

some of the early settlers came. How often has the traveller to regret

the annihilation of the wild old Indian names, and the substitution of

appellatives from every creek and corner of the older continents; with

Poquanum, Sagamore, Wenepoykin, with Susquehanna, Wyoming, Miami, and a

thousand other such of every length and sound, all cut-and-dried to

hand, it is more than a pity to see so great a country plagiarizing in

such a wholesale manner Pekins, Cantons, Turing, Troys, Carmels,

Emmauses, Cairos, and a myriad other such borrowed plumes, plucked from

Europe, Asia, and Africa, and hustled higgledy-piggledy side by side,

without a single element or association to justify the uncalled-for

robbery.