Position of New York--Externals of the city--Conveyances--
Maladministration--The stores--The hotels--Curiosities of the hospital--
Ragged schools--The bad book--Monster schools--Amusements and oyster
saloons--Monstrosities--A restaurant--Dwelling-houses--Equipages--Palaces
--Dress--Figures--Manners--Education--Domestic habits--The ladies--The
gentlemen--Society--Receptions--Anti-English feeling--Autographs--The
"Buckram Englishman."
New York, from its position, population, influence, and commerce, is
worthy to be considered the metropolis of the New World. The situation of
it is very advantageous. It is built upon Manhattan Island, which is about
thirteen miles in length by two in breadth. It has the narrowest portion
of Long Island Sound, called East River, on its east side; the Hudson,
called the North River, environs it in another direction; while these two
are connected by a narrow strait, principally artificial, denominated the
Harlem River. This insular position of the city is by no means
intelligible to the stranger, but it is obvious from the top of any
elevated building. The dense part of New York already covers a large
portion of the island; and as it _daily_ extends northward, the whole
extent of insulated ground is divided into lots, and mapped out into
streets.
But, not content with covering the island, which, when Hendrick Hudson
first discovered it, abounded with red men, who fished along its banks and
guided their bark canoes over the surrounding waters, New York, under the
names of Brooklyn, Williamsburgh, and four or five others, has spread
itself on Long Island, Staten Island, and the banks of the Hudson.
Brooklyn, on Long Island, which occupies the same position with regard to
New York that Lambeth and Southwark do to London, contains a population of
100,000 souls. Brooklyn, Williamsburgh, Hoboken, and Jersey City are the
residences of a very large portion of the merchants of New York, who have
deserted the old or Dutch part of the town, which is consequently merely
an aggregate of offices. Floating platforms, moved by steam, with space in
the middle part for twelve or fourteen carriages and horses, and luxurious
covered apartments, heated with steam-pipes on either side, ply to and fro
every five minutes at the small charge of one halfpenny a passenger, and
the time occupied in crossing the ferries is often less than that of the
detention on Westminster Bridge. Besides these large places, Staten Island
and Long Island are covered with villa residences. Including these towns,
which are in reality part of this vast city, New York contains a
population of very nearly a million! Broadway, which is one of the most
remarkable streets in the world, being at once the Corso, Toledo, Regent
Street, and Princes Street of New York, runs along the centre of the city,
and is crossed at right angles by innumerable streets, which run down to
the water at each side. It would appear as if the inventive genius of the
people had been exhausted, for, after borrowing designations for their
streets from every part of the world, among which some of the old Dutch
names figure most refreshingly, they have adopted the novel plan of
numbering them. Thus there are ten "Avenues," which run from north to
south, and these are crossed by streets numbered First Street, Second
Street, and so on. I believe that the skeletons of one hundred and fifty
numbered streets are in existence. The southern part of the town still
contains a few of the old Dutch houses, and there are some substantial
red-brick villas in the vicinity, inhabited by the descendants of the old
Dutch families, who are remarkably exclusive in their habits.
New York is decidedly a very handsome city. The wooden houses have nearly
all disappeared, together with those of an antiquated or incongruous
appearance; and the new streets are very regularly and substantially built
of brown stone or dark brick. The brick building in New York is remarkably
beautiful. The windows are large, and of plate-glass, and the whole
external finish of the houses is in a splendid but chaste style, never to
be met with in street-architecture in England. As the houses in the city
are almost universally heated by air warmed by a subterranean stove, very
few chimneys are required, and these are seldom visible above the stone
parapets which conceal the roofs. Anthracite coal is almost universally
used, so there is an absence of that murky, yellow canopy which disfigures
English towns. The atmosphere is remarkably dry, so that even white marble
edifices, of which there are several in the town, suffer but little from
the effects of climate.
Broadway is well paved, and many of the numbered streets are not to be
complained of in this respect, but a great part of the city is
indescribably dirty, though it is stated that the expense of cleaning it
exceeds 250,000 dollars per annum. Its immense length necessitates an
enormous number of conveyances; and in order to obviate the obstruction to
traffic which would have been caused by providing omnibus accommodation
equal to the demand, the authorities have consented to a most alarming
inroad upon several of the principal streets. The stranger sees with
surprise that double lines of rails are laid along the roadways; and while
driving quietly in a carriage, he hears the sound of a warning bell, and
presently a railway-car, holding thirty persons, and drawn by two or four
horses, comes thundering down the street. These rail-cars run every few
minutes, and the fares are very low. For very sufficient reasons, Broadway
is not thus encroached upon; and a journey from one end to the other of
this marvellous street is a work of time and difficulty. Pack the traffic
of the Strand and Cheapside into Oxford Street, and still you will not
have an idea of the crush in Broadway. There are streams of scarlet and
yellow omnibuses racing in the more open parts, and locking each other's
wheels in the narrower--there are helpless females deposited in the middle
of a sea of slippery mud, condemned to run a gauntlet between cart-wheels
and horses' hoofs--there are loaded stages hastening to and from the huge
hotels--carts and waggons laden with merchandise--and "Young Americans"
driving fast-trotting horses, edging in and out among the crowd--wheels
are locked, horses tumble down, and persons pressed for time are
distracted. Occasionally, the whole traffic of the street comes to a dead-
lock, in consequence of some obstruction or crowd, there being no
policeman at hand with his incessant command, "_Move on_!"
The hackney-carriages of New York are very handsome, and, being drawn by
two horses, have the appearance of private equipages; but woe to the
stranger who trusts to the inviting announcement that the fare is a dollar
within a certain circle. Bad as London cabmen are, one would welcome the
sight of one of them. The New York hackmen are licensed plunderers,
against whose extortions there is neither remedy nor appeal. They are
generally Irish, and cheat people with unblushing audacity. The omnibus or
stage accommodation is plentiful and excellent. A person soon becomes
accustomed to, and enjoys, the occasional excitement of locked wheels or a
race, and these vehicles are roomy and clean. They are sixteen inches
wider than our own omnibuses, and carry a number of passengers certainly
within their capabilities, and the fares are fixed and very low, 6-1/2
cents for any distance. They have windows to the sides and front, and the
spaces between are painted with very tolerably-executed landscapes. There
is no conductor; the driver opens and closes the door with a strap, and
the money is handed to him through a little hole in the roof. The lady
passengers invariably give the money to a gentleman for this purpose, and
no rule of etiquette is more rigidly enforced than for him to obey the
request to do so, generally consisting in a haughty wave of the hand. The
thousand acts of attention which gentlemen, by rigid usage, are compelled
to tender to ladies, are received by them without the slightest
acknowledgment, either by word or gesture. To so great an extent is this
_nonchalance_ carried on the part of the females, that two or three
newspapers have seriously taken up the subject, and advise the gentlemen
to withdraw from the performance of such unrequited attentions.
Strangers frequently doubt whether New York possesses a police; the doubt
is very justifiable, for these guardians of the public peace are seldom
forthcoming when they are wanted. They are accessible to bribes, and will
investigate into crime when liberally rewarded; but probably in no city in
the civilised world is life so fearfully insecure. The practice of
carrying concealed arms, in the shape of stilettoes for attack, and
swordsticks for defence, if illegal, is perfectly common; desperate
reprobates, called "Rowdies," infest the lower part of the town; and
terrible outrages and murderous assaults are matters of such nightly
occurrence as to be thought hardly worthy of notice, even in those prints
which minister to man's depraved taste for the horrible. [Footnote: The
state of New York has improved. Mr. Fernando Wood, who was elected Mayor
in November, 1854, has issued stringent regulations for the maintenance of
order. A better police-force has been organised, and many of the notorious
"Rowdies" and other bad characters have been shut up on Blackwell's
Island. His tenure of office has just expired, and it is much to be feared
that the mob, which exercises an undue influence upon the municipal
elections, has not chosen a successor who will interfere with its
privileges.]
No language can be too strongly expressive of censure upon the disgraceful
condition of New York. The evil may be distinctly traced to the wretched
system of politics which prevails at the election of the municipal
officers, who are often literally chosen from the lowest of the people,
and are venal and corrupt in the highest degree.
During my visit to New York a candidate for one of these offices stabbed a
policeman, who died of the wound. If I might judge from the tone of the
public prints, and from conversations on the subject, public feeling was
not much outraged by the act itself, but it was a convenient stalking-
horse for the other side, and the policeman's funeral procession, which
went down Broadway, was nearly a mile in length.
The principal stores are situated in Broadway; and although they attempt
very little in the way of window display, the interiors are spacious, and
arranged with the greatest taste. An American store is generally a very
extensive apartment, handsomely decorated, the roof frequently supported
on marble pillars. The owner or clerk is seen seated by his goods,
absorbed in the morning paper--probably balancing himself on one leg of
his chair, with a spittoon by his side. He deigns to answer your
inquiries, but, in place of the pertinacious perseverance with which an
English shop man displays his wares, it seems a matter of perfect
indifference to the American whether you purchase or no. The drapers' and
mercers' shops, which go by the name of "dry goods" stores, are filled
with the costliest productions of the world. The silks from the looms of
France are to be seen side by side with the productions of Persia and
India, and all at an advance of fully two-thirds on English prices. The
"fancy goods" stores are among the most attractive lounges of the city.
Here Paris figures to such an extent, that it was said at the time when
difficulties with France were apprehended, in consequence of the Soulé
affair, that "Louis Napoleon might as well fire cannon-balls into the
Palais Royal as declare war with America." Some of the bronzes in these
stores are of exquisite workmanship, and costly china from Sèvres and
Dresden feasts the eyes of the lovers of beauty in this branch of art.
The American ladies wear very costly jewellery, but I was perfectly amazed
at the prices of some of the articles displayed. I saw a diamond bracelet
containing one brilliant of prodigious size and lustre. The price was
25,000 dollars, or 5000_l._ On inquiring who would purchase such a thing,
the clerk replied, "I guess some southerner will buy it for his wife."
One of the sights with which the New York people astonish English visitors
is Stewart's dry-goods store in Broadway, an immense square building of
white marble, six stories high, with a frontage of 300 feet. The business
done in it is stated to be above 1,500,000_l._ per annum. There are 400
people employed at this establishment, which has even a telegraph office
on the premises, where a clerk is for ever flashing dollars and cents
along the trembling wires. There were lace collars 40 guineas each, and
flounces of Valenciennes lace, half a yard deep, at 120 guineas a flounce.
The damasks and brocades for curtains and chairs were at almost fabulous
prices. Few gentlemen, the clerk observed, give less than 3_l._ per yard
for these articles. The most costly are purchased by the hotels. I saw
some brocade embroidered in gold to the thickness of half an inch, some of
which had been supplied to the St. Nicholas Hotel at 9_l._ per yard! There
were stockings from a penny to a guinea a pair, and carpetings from 1_s._
8_d._ to 22_s._ a yard. Besides six stories above ground, there were large
light rooms under the building, and under Broadway itself, echoing with
the roll of its 10,000 vehicles.
The hotels are among the sights of New York. The principal are the Astor
House (which has a world-wide reputation), the Metropolitan, and the St.
Nicholas, all in Broadway. Prescott House and Irving House also afford
accommodation on a very large scale. The entrances to these hotels
invariably attract the eye of the stranger. Groups of extraordinary-
looking human beings are always lounging on the door-steps, smoking,
whittling, and reading newspapers. There are southerners sighing for their
sunny homes, smoking Havana cigars; western men, with that dashing free-
and-easy air which renders them unmistakeable; Englishmen, shrouded in
exclusiveness, who look on all their neighbours as so many barbarian
intruders on their privacy; and people of all nations, whom business has
drawn to the American metropolis.
The Metropolitan Hotel is the most imposing in appearance. It is a block
of building with a frontage of 300 feet, and is six stories high. I
believe that it can accommodate 1300 people. The St. Nicholas is the most
superb in its decorations; it is a magnificent building of white marble,
and can accommodate 1000 visitors. Everything in this edifice is on a
style of princely magnificence. The grand entrance opens into a very fine
hall with a marble floor, and this is surrounded with settees covered with
the skins of wild animals. The parlours are gorgeous in the extreme, and
there are two superb dining-rooms to contain 600 people each. The curtains
and sofa-covers in some of the parlours cost 5_l._ per yard, and, as has
been previously named, one room is furnished with gold brocade purchased
at 9_l._ per yard. About 100 married couples reside permanently at the St.
Nicholas; it does not, however, bear the very best reputation, as it is
said to be the resort of a large number of professed gamblers. Large as
these hotels are, they are nothing to a monster establishment at Cape May,
a fashionable summer resort in New Jersey. The capacities of this
building, the Mount Vernon Hotel, though stated on the best authority, can
scarcely be credited--it is said to make up 3000 beds!
Owing to the high rates of house-rent and the difficulty of procuring
servants, together with the exorbitant wages which they require, many
married couples, and even families, reside permanently at the hotels.
Living constantly in public, without opportunity for holding family
intercourse, and being without either home cares or home pleasures,
nomade, restless, pleasure-seeking habits are induced, which have led
strangers to charge the Americans with being destitute of home life. That
such is the case to some extent is not to be denied; but this want is by
no means generally observed. I have met with family circles in the New
World as united and affectionate as those in the Old, not only in country
districts, but in the metropolis itself; and in New England there is
probably as much of what may be termed patriarchal life as anywhere in
Europe.
The public charities of New York are on a gigantic scale. The New York
Hospital, a fine stone building with some large trees in front, situated
in Broadway, was one which pleased me as much as any. Two of the
physicians kindly took me over the whole building, and explained all the
arrangements. I believe that the hospital contains 650 beds, and it is
generally full, being not only the receptacle for the numerous accident
cases which are of daily occurrence in New York, but for those of a large
district besides, which are conveniently brought in by railroad. We first
went into the recent-accident room, where the unhappy beings who were
recently hurt or operated upon were lying. Some of them were the most
piteous objects I ever witnessed, and the medical men, under the
impression that I was deeply interested in surgery, took pains to exhibit
all the horrors. There were a good many of the usual classes of
accidents,--broken limbs and mangled frames. There was one poor little boy
of twelve years old, whose arms had been torn to pieces by machinery; one
of them had been amputated on the previous day, and, while the medical men
displayed the stump, they remarked that the other must be taken off on the
next day. The poor boy groaned with a more than childish expression of
agony on his pale features, probably at the thought of the life of
helplessness before him. A young Irishman had been crushed by a railway
car, and one of his legs had been amputated a few hours previously. As the
surgeon altered the bandages he was laughing and joking, and had been
singing ever since the operation--a remarkable instance of Paddy's
unfailing lightheartedness.
But, besides these ordinary accidents, there were some very characteristic
of New York and of a New York election. In one ward there were several men
who had been stabbed the night before, two of whom were mortally wounded.
There were two men, scarcely retaining the appearance of human beings, who
had been fearfully burned and injured by the explosion of an infernal
machine. All trace of human features had departed; it seemed hardly
credible that such blackened, distorted, and mangled frames could contain
human souls. There were others who had received musket-shot wounds during
the election, and numbers of broken heads, and wounds from knives. It was
sad to know that so much of the suffering to be seen in that hospital was
the result of furious religious animosities, and of the unrestrained
lawlessness of human violence.
There was one man who had been so nearly crushed to pieces, that it seemed
marvellous that the mangled frame could still retain its vitality. One leg
was broken in three places, and the flesh torn off from the knee to the
foot; both arms and several ribs were also broken. We went into one of the
female wards, where sixteen broken legs were being successfully treated,
and I could not but admire a very simple contrivance which remedies the
contraction which often succeeds broken limbs, and produces permanent
lameness. Two long straps of plaister were glued from above the knee to
the ankle, and were then fixed to a wooden bar, with a screw and handle,
so that the tension could be regulated at pleasure. The medical men, in
remarking upon this, observed that in England we were very slow to adopt
any American improvements in surgery or medicine.
There were many things in this hospital which might be imitated in England
with great advantage to the patients. Each ward was clean, sweet, and
airy; and the system of heating and ventilation is very superior. The
heating and ventilating apparatus, instead of sending forth alternate
blasts of hot and cold air, keeps up a uniform and easily regulated
temperature. A draught of cold air is continually forced through a large
apparatus of steam-pipes, and, as it becomes vitiated in the rooms above,
passes out through ventilators placed just below the ceiling. Our next
visit was to the laundry, where two men, three women, and, last but not
least, a steam-engine of 45-horse power, were perpetually engaged in
washing the soiled linen of the hospital. The large and rapidly-moving
cylinder which churns the linen is a common part of a steam laundry, but
the wringing machine is one of the most beautiful practical applications
of a principle in natural philosophy that I ever saw. It consists of a
large perforated cylinder, open at the top, with a case in the centre.
This cylinder performs from 400 to 700 revolutions in a minute, and, by
the power of the centrifugal force thus produced, the linen is impelled so
violently against the sides, that the moisture is forced through the
perforations, when the linen is left nearly dry.
Strange as it may appear to those who associate America with plenty and
comfort, there is a very large class of persons at New York living in a
state of squalid and abject poverty; and in order that the children
belonging to it may receive some education, it has been found necessary by
the benevolent to supplement the common school system with ragged or
industrial schools. In order not to wound the pride of parents who are not
too proud to receive a gratuitous education for their offspring, these
establishments are not called Ragged Schools, but "Boys' Meetings," and
"Girls' Meetings." I visited two of these, the first in Tompkin Square.
There were about 100 children in the school, and nearly all of them were
Irish Roman Catholics. They receive a good elementary education, and
answered the questions addressed to them with correctness and alacrity.
The Bible, of course, is not read, but the pupils learn a Scripture
catechism, and paraphrased versions of Scripture incidents. One day,
during the absence of the teacher, one of the pupils was looking into an
English Bible, and another addressed her with the words, "You wicked girl,
you know the priest says that you are never to open that bad book; I will
never walk with you again." The child, on going home, told her mother, and
she said that she did not think it could be such a bad book, as the ladies
who were so kind to them read it. The child said that it was a beautiful
book, and persuaded her mother to borrow a Bible from a neighbour; she
read it, and became a Protestant. These children earn their clothing by a
certain number of good marks, but most of them were shoeless. Each child
is obliged to take a bath on the establishment once a-week. Their answers
in geography and history were extremely good. In the afternoon the elder
girls are employed in tailoring and dressmaking, and receive so much work
that this branch of the school is self-supporting.
I visited another industrial school, in a very bad part of the town,
adjoining the Bowery, where the parents are of the very worst description,
and their offspring are vicious and unmanageable. I think that I never saw
vice and crime so legibly stamped upon the countenances of children as
upon those in this school. The teachers find it extremely difficult to
preserve discipline at all; and the pilfering habits of the pupils are
almost incorrigible. They each receive a pint of excellent soup and an
unlimited quantity of bread for dinner; but they are discontented and
unthankful.
The common school system will be enlarged upon in a succeeding chapter;
but I cannot forbear noticing one school which I visited, It was a lofty,
four-storied building of red brick, with considerable architectural
pretensions. It was faced with brown stone, and had a very handsome
entrance-hall and staircase. The people of New York vie with each other in
their hospitality to strangers, and in showing them the objects of
interest within their city in the very best manner; and it was under the
auspices of Dr. Wells, one of the commissioners of education, that I saw
this admirable school, or rather educational institution. On inquiring the
reason of the extraordinary height of the balustrades, I was told that
some weeks previously, as the boys were hurriedly leaving school, forty of
them had been pushed over the staircase, out of which number nearly the
whole were killed!
In the girls' room about 900 girls between the ages of eight and eighteen
were assembled. They were the children of persons in every class in the
city except the very wealthiest and the poorest. All these girls were well
dressed, some of them tasteful, others fantastic, in their appearance.
There was a great deal of beauty among the elder pupils; I only regretted
that the bright bloom which many possessed should be so evanescent. The
rich luxuriant hair, often of a beautiful auburn hue, was a peculiarity
which could not be overlooked. There were about ten female teachers, the
principal of whom played some lively airs upon the piano, during which
time the pupils marched steadily in from various class-rooms, and took
their seats at handsome mahogany desks, which accommodated two each. No
expense had been spared in the fittings of the apartment; the
commissioners of education are evidently of opinion that the young do not
acquire knowledge the more speedily from being placed on comfortless
benches, without any means of resting their weak and tired frames.
Each desk contained a drawer or cupboard; and to encourage those habits of
order and self-reliance to which so much weight is attached in the States,
each pupil is made responsible for the preservation and security of her
books and all implements of education. The business of the day commenced
by the whole number of girls reverently repeating the Lord's Prayer,
which, in addressing God as "Our Father," proclaims the common bond of
brotherhood which unites the whole human race. The sound of 900 youthful
voices solemnly addressing their Creator was very beautiful and
impressive. A chapter from the Bible, read aloud by the teacher, followed,
and a hymn beautifully sung, when the pupils filed off as before to the
sound of music. We next went to the elementary room, appropriated to
infants, who are not sent to the higher school till their proficiency
reaches the standard required.
The infant system does not appear to differ materially from ours, except
that it is of a more intellectual nature. In this room 1300 children
joined in singing a hymn. In the boys' rooms about 1000 boys were
receiving instruction under about 12 specimens of "Young America." The
restless, the almost fearful energy of the teachers surprised me, and the
alacrity of the boys in answering questions. In the algebra-room questions
involving the most difficult calculation on the part of the pupils were
answered sometimes even before the teacher had worked them out himself.
Altogether, I was delighted with this school and with the earnestness
displayed by both teachers and pupils. I was not so well pleased with the
manners of the instructors, particularly in the boys' school. There was a
boastfulness, an exaggeration, and a pedantry, which are by no means
necessary accompaniments of superior attainments. The pupils have a
disrespectful, familiar, and independent air, though I understood that the
punishments are more severe than are generally approved of in English
schools. The course of instruction is very complete. History is especially
attended to, with its bearing upon modern politics. The teachers receive
from 80_l._ to 300_l._ a year, and very high attainments are required.
Besides the common and industrial schools, there are means of education
provided for the juvenile portion of the very large foreign population of
New York, principally German. There are several schools held under the
basements of the churches, without any paid teachers. The ladies of New
York, to their honour be it said, undertake, unassisted, the education of
these children, a certain number being attached to every school. Each of
these ladies takes some hours of a day, and youth and beauty may be seen
perseveringly engaged in this arduous but useful task.
The spirit of practical benevolence which appears to permeate New York
society is one of its most pleasing features. It is not only that the
wealthy contribute large sums of money to charitable objects, but they
personally superintend their right distribution. No class is left
untouched by their benevolent efforts; wherever suffering and poverty are
found, the hand of Christianity or philanthropy is stretched out to
relieve them. The gulf which in most cities separates the rich from the
poor has been to some extent lessened in New York; for numbers of ladies
and gentlemen of education and affluence visit among the poor and vicious,
seeking to raise them to a better position.
If there are schools, emigrant hospitals, orphan asylums, and nursing
institutions, to mark the good sense and philanthropy of the people of New
York, so their love of amusement and recreation is strongly evidenced by
the numerous places where both may be procured. There is perhaps as much
pleasure-seeking as in Paris; the search after amusement is characterised
by the same restless energy which marks the pursuit after wealth; and if
the Americans have little time for enjoying themselves, they are resolved
that the opportunities for doing so shall be neither distant nor few.
Thus, Broadway and its neighbourhood contain more places of amusement than
perhaps any district of equal size in the world. These present variety
sufficient to embrace the tastes of the very heterogeneous population of
New York.
There are three large theatres; an opera-house of gigantic proportions,
which is annually graced by the highest vocal talent of Europe; Wood's
minstrels, and Christy's minstrels, where blacks perform in
unexceptionable style to unwearied audiences; and comic operas. There are
_al fresco_ entertainments, masquerades, concerts, restaurants, and oyster
saloons. Besides all these, and many more, New York contained in 1853 the
amazing number of 5980 taverns. The number of places where amusement is
combined with intellectual improvement is small, when compared with other
cities of the same population. There are however some very magnificent
reading-rooms and libraries.
The amount of oysters eaten in New York surprised me, although there was
an idea at the time of my visit that they produced the cholera, which
rather checked any extraordinary excesses in this curious fish. In the
business streets of New York the eyes are greeted continually with the
words "Oyster Saloon," painted in large letters on the basement story. If
the stranger's curiosity is sufficient to induce him to dive down a flight
of steps into a subterranean abode, at the first glance rather suggestive
of robbery, one favourite amusement of the people may be seen in
perfection. There is a counter at one side, where two or three persons,
frequently blacks, are busily engaged in opening oysters for their
customers, who swallow them with astonishing relish and rapidity. In a
room beyond, brightly lighted by gas, family groups are to be seen, seated
at round tables, and larger parties of friends, enjoying basins of stewed
oysters; while from some mysterious recess the process of cookery makes
itself distinctly audible. Some of these saloons are highly respectable,
while many are just the reverse. But the consumption of oysters is by no
means confined to the saloons; in private families an oyster supper is
frequently a nightly occurrence; the oysters are dressed in the parlour by
an ingenious and not inelegant apparatus. So great is the passion for this
luxury, that the consumption of it during the season is estimated at
3500_l._ a-day.
There are several restaurants in the city, on the model of those in the
Palais Royal. The most superb of these, _but not by any means the most
respectable_, is Taylor's, in Broadway. It combines Eastern magnificence
with Parisian taste, and strangers are always expected to visit it. It is
a room about 100 ft. in length, by 22 in height; the roof and cornices
richly carved and gilded, the walls ornamented by superb mirrors,
separated by white marble. The floor is of marble, and a row of fluted and
polished marble pillars runs down each side. It is a perfect blaze of
decoration. There is an alcove at one end of the apartment, filled with
orange-trees, and the air is kept refreshingly cool by a crystal fountain.
Any meal can be obtained here at any hour. On the day on which I visited
it, the one hundred marble tables which it contains were nearly all
occupied; a double row of equipages lined the street at the door; and two
or three hundred people, many of them without bonnets and fantastically
dressed, were regaling themselves upon ices and other elegancies in an
atmosphere redolent with the perfume of orange-flowers, and musical with
the sound of trickling water, and the melody of musical snuff-boxes. There
was a complete maze of fresco, mirrors, carving, gilding, and marble. A
dinner can be procured here at any hour of day or night, from one shilling
and sixpence up to half-a-guinea, and other meals in like proportion. As
we merely went to see the restaurant, we ordered ices, which were served
from large reservoirs, shining like polished silver. These were paid for
at the time, and we received tickets in return, which were taken by the
doorkeeper on coming out. It might be supposed that Republican simplicity
would scorn so much external display; but the places of public
entertainment vie in their splendour with the palaces of kings.
It was almost impossible for a stranger to leave New York without visiting
the American museum, the property of _Phineas Taylor Barnum_. The history
of this very remarkable man is now well known, even in England, where the
publication of his 'Autobiography' has been a nine days' wonder. It is
said that 60,000 copies were sold at New York in one day, so successful
has he been in keeping himself for ever before the public eye. It is
painful to see how far a man whose life has been spent in total disregard
of the principles of truth and integrity should have earned for himself
popularity and fame. His museum is situated in Broadway, near to the City
Hall, and is a gaudy building, denoted by huge paintings, multitudes of
flags, and a very noisy band. The museum contains many objects of real
interest, particularly to the naturalist and geologist, intermingled with
a great deal that is spurious and contemptible. But this museum is by no
means the attraction to this "Palace of Humbug."
There is a collection of horrors or monstrosities attached, which appears
to fascinate the vulgar gaze. The principal objects of attraction at this
time were, a dog with two legs, a cow with four horns, and a calf with six
legs--disgusting specimens of deformity, which ought to have been
destroyed, rather than preserved to gratify a morbid taste for the
horrible and erratic in nature. But while persons of the highest station
and education in England patronised an artful and miserable dwarf,
cleverly exhibited by a showman totally destitute of principle, it is not
surprising that the American people should delight in yet more hideous
exhibitions, under the same auspices.
The magnificence of the private dwellings of New York must not escape
mention, though I am compelled to withhold many details that would be
interesting, from a fear of "violating the rights of hospitality." The
squares, and many of the numbered streets, contain very superb houses of a
most pleasing uniformity of style. They are built either of brown stone,
or of dark red brick, durably pointed, and faced with stone. This style of
brick masonry is extremely tasteful and beautiful. Every house has an
entrance-porch with windows of stained glass, and double doors; the outer
one being only closed at night. The upper part of the inner door is made
of stained glass; the door-handles and bell-pulls are made of highly-
polished electro-plate; and a handsome flight of stone steps, with elegant
bronze balustrades, leads up to the porch. The entrance-halls are seldom
large, but the staircases, which are of stone, are invariably very
handsome. These houses are six stories high, and usually contain three
reception-rooms; a dining-room, small, and not striking in appearance in
any way, as dinner-parties are seldom given in New York; a small,
elegantly-furnished drawing-room, used as a family sitting-room, and for
the reception of morning visitors; and a magnificent reception-room,
furnished in the height of taste and elegance, for dancing, music, and
evening parties.
In London the bedrooms are generally inconvenient and uncomfortable, being
sacrificed to the reception-rooms; in New York this is not the case. The
bedrooms are large, lofty, and airy; and are furnished with all the
appurtenances which modern luxury has been able to devise. The profusion
of marble gives a very handsome and chaste appearance to these apartments.
There are bath-rooms generally on three floors, and hot and cold water are
laid on in every story. The houses are warmed by air heated from a furnace
at the basement; and though in addition open fires are sometimes adopted,
they are made of anthracite coal, which emits no smoke, and has rather the
appearance of heated metal than of fuel. Ornamental articles of Parisian
taste and Italian workmanship abound in these houses; and the mouldings,
cornices, and woodwork, are all beautifully executed. The doorways and
windows are very frequently of an arched form, which contributes to the
tasteful appearance of the houses. Every species of gaudy decoration is
strictly avoided; the paint is generally white, with gilt mouldings; and
the lofty rooms are either painted in panels, or hung with paper of a very
simple pattern.
The curtains and chair-covers are always of very rich damask, frequently
worth from two to three guineas a yard; but the richness of this, and of
the gold embroidery, is toned down by the dark hue of the walnut-wood
furniture. The carpets of the reception-rooms are generally of rich
Kidderminster, or velvet pile; an air of elegance and cleanliness pervades
these superb dwellings; they look the height of comfort. It must be
remembered that the foregoing is not a description of a dwelling here and
there, but of fifty or sixty streets, or of 4000 or 5000 houses, those
inhabited by merchants of average incomes, storekeepers not of the
wealthiest class, and lawyers. The number of servants kept in such
mansions as these would sound disproportionately small to an English ear.
Two or three female servants only are required. Breakfast is very early,
frequently at seven, seldom later than eight. The families of merchants in
business in the lower part of the city often dine at one, and the
gentlemen return to a combination of dinner with tea at six. It does not
appear that at home luxury in eating is much studied. It is not customary,
even among some of the wealthier inhabitants of New York, to indulge in
sumptuous equipages. "Hacks," with respectable-looking drivers and pairs
of horses, fill the place of private carriages, and look equally well.
Coachmen require high wages, and carriages are frequently injured by
collision with omnibuses; these are among the reasons given for the very
general use of hired vehicles.
The private equipages to be seen in New York, though roomy and
comfortable, are not elegant. They are almost invariably closed, with
glass sides and front, and are constructed with a view to keep out the
intense heat of the summer sun. The coachmen are generally blacks, and the
horses are stout animals, with cropped tails. The majority have broken
knees, owing to the great slipperiness of the pavements.
Altogether, the occupants of stages are the most secure of the numerous
travellers down Broadway. The driver, on his lofty box, has more control
over his horses, and, in case of collision, the weight of his vehicle
gives him an advantage; and there is a general inclination, on the part of
the conductors of carriages, to give these swiftly-moving vehicles "ample
room and verge enough." While threading the way through the intricate
labyrinth of waggons, stages, falling horses, and locked wheels, it is
highly unpleasant for the denizens of private carriages to find the end of
a pole through the back of the equipage, or to be addressed by the
coachman, "Massa, dat big waggon is pulling off my wheel."
Having given a brief description of the style of the ordinary dwellings of
the affluent, I will just glance at those of the very wealthy, of which
there are several in Fifth Avenue, and some of the squares, surpassing
anything I had hitherto witnessed in royal or ducal palaces at home. The
externals of some of these mansions in Fifth Avenue are like Apsley House,
and Stafford House, St. James's; being substantially built of brown stone.
At one house which I visited in----street, about the largest private
residence in the city, and one which is considered to combine the greatest
splendour with the greatest taste, we entered a spacious marble hall,
leading to a circular stone staircase of great width, the balustrades
being figures elaborately cast in bronze. Above this staircase was a lofty
dome, decorated with paintings in fresco of eastern scenes. There were
niches in the walls, some containing Italian statuary, and others small
jets of water pouring over artificial moss,
There were six or eight magnificent reception-rooms, furnished in various
styles--the Mediaeval, the Elizabethan, the Italian, the Persian, the
modern English, &c. There were fountains of fairy workmanship, pictures
from the old masters, statues from Italy, "_chefs-d'oeuvre_" of art;
porcelain from China and Sèvres; damasks, cloth of gold, and bijoux from
the East; Gobelin tapestry, tables of malachite and agate, and "knick-
knacks" of every description. In the Mediaeval and Elizabethan apartments,
it did not appear to me that any anachronisms had been committed with
respect to the furniture and decorations. The light was subdued by passing
through windows of rich stained glass. I saw one table the value of which
might be about 2000 guineas. The ground was black marble, with a wreath of
flowers inlaid with very costly gems upon it. There were flowers or
bunches of fruit, of turquoise, carbuncles, rubies, topazes, and emeralds,
while the leaves were of malachite, cornelian, or agate. The effect
produced by this lavish employment of wealth was not very good. The
bedrooms were scarcely less magnificently furnished than the reception-
rooms; with chairs formed of stag-horns, tables inlaid with agates, and
hangings of Damascus cashmere, richly embossed with gold. There was
nothing gaudy, profuse, or prominent in the decorations or furniture;
everything had evidently been selected and arranged by a person of very
refined taste. Among the very beautiful works of art was a collection of
cameos, including some of Cellini's from the antique, which were really
entrancing to look upon.
Another mansion, which N. P. Willis justly describes as "a fairy palace of
taste and art," though not so extensive, was equally beautiful, and
possessed a large winter-garden. This was approached by passing through a
succession of very beautiful rooms, the walls of which were hung with
paintings which would have delighted a _connoisseur_. It was a glass
building with a high dome: a fine fountain was playing in the centre, and
round its marble basin were orange, palm, and myrtle trees, with others
from the tropics, some of them of considerable growth. Every part of the
floor that was not of polished white marble was thickly carpeted with
small green ferns. The _gleam_ of white marble statues, from among the
clumps of orange-trees and other shrubs, was particularly pretty; indeed,
the whole had a fairy-like appearance about it. Such mansions as these
were rather at variance with my ideas of republican simplicity; they
contained apartments which would have thrown into the shade the finest
rooms in Windsor Castle or Buckingham Palace. It is not the custom for
Americans to leave large fortunes to their children; their wealth is spent
in great measure in surrounding themselves with the beautiful and the
elegant in their splendid mansions; and it is probable that the adornments
which have been collected with so much expense and trouble will be
dispersed at the death of their present possessors.
I have often been asked, "How do the American ladies dress? Have they nice
figures? Do they wear much ornament? What are their manners like? Are they
highly educated? Are they domestic?" I will answer these questions as far
as I am capable of doing so.
In bygone times, the "good old times" of America perhaps, large patterns,
brilliant colours, exaggerated fashions, and redundant ornament, were all
adopted by the American ladies; and without just regard to the severity of
their climate, they patronised thin dresses, and yet thinner shoes; both
being, as has been since discovered, very prolific sources of ill health.
Frequent intercourse with Europe, and the gradual progress of good taste,
have altered this absurd style, and America, like England, is now content
to submit to the dictation of Paris in all matters of fashion. But though
Paris might dictate, it was found that American milliners had stubborn
wills of their own, so Parisian _modistes_ were imported along with
Parisian silks, ribands, and gloves. No dressmaker is now considered
orthodox who cannot show a prefix of _Madame_, and the rage for foreign
materials and workmanship of every kind is as ludicrous as in England.
Although the deception practised is very blameable, there is some comfort
in knowing that large numbers of the caps, bonnets, mantles, and other
articles of dress, which are marked ostentatiously with the name of some
_Rue_ in Paris, have never incurred the risks of an Atlantic voyage. But
however unworthy a devotion to fashion may be, it is very certain that the
ladies of New York dress beautifully, and in very good taste. Although it
is rather repugnant to one's feelings to behold costly silks and rich
brocades sweeping the pavements of Broadway, with more effect than is
produced by the dustmen, it is very certain that more beautiful
_toilettes_ are to be seen in this celebrated thoroughfare, in one
afternoon, than in Hyde Park in a week. As it is impossible to display the
productions of the millinery art in a close carriage in a crowd, Broadway
is the fashionable promenade; and the lightest French bonnets, the
handsomest mantles, and the richest flounced silk dresses, with _jupons_,
ribands, and laces to correspond, are there to be seen in the afternoon.
Evening attire is very much the same as in England, only that richer
materials are worn by the young. The harmony of colours appears to be a
subject studied to some purpose, and the style of dress is generally
adapted to the height, complexion, and figure of the wearer.
The figures of the American ladies in youth are very sylph-like and
elegant; and this appearance is obtained without the use of those
artificial constraints so justly to be condemned. They are almost too
slight for beauty, though this does not signify while they retain the
luxuriant wavy hair, brilliant complexion, elastic step, and gracefulness
of very early youth. But unfortunately a girl of twenty is too apt to look
faded and haggard; and a woman who with us would be in her bloom at
thirty, looks _passée_, wrinkled, and old. It is then that the sylph-like
form assumes an unpleasant angularity, suggestive of weariness and care.
It is remarkable, however, that ladies of recent English extraction, under
exactly the same circumstances, retain their good looks into middle life,
and advancing years produce _embonpoint_, instead of angularity. I was
very agreeably surprised with the beauty of the young ladies of New York;
there is something peculiarly graceful and fascinating in their personal
appearance.
To judge from the costly articles of jewellery displayed in the stores, I
should have supposed that there was a great rage for ornament; but from
the reply I once received from a jeweller, on asking him who would
purchase a five-thousand-guinea diamond bracelet, "I guess some Southerner
will buy it for his wife," I believe that most of these articles find
their way to the South and West, where a less-cultivated taste may be
supposed to prevail. I saw very little jewellery worn, and that was
generally of a valuable but plain description. The young ladies appear to
have adopted the maxim, "Beauty when unadorned is adorned the most." They
study variety in ornament rather than profusion. "What are their manners
like?" is a difficult question to answer. That there is a great difference
between the manners of English and American ladies may be inferred from
some remarks made to me by the most superior woman whom I met in America,
and one who had been in English society in London. In naming a lady with
whom she was acquainted, and one who could scarcely be expected to be
deficient in affection towards herself, she said, "Her manners were
perfectly ladylike, but she seemed to talk merely because conversation was
a conventional requirement of society, and I cannot believe that she had
any heart." She added, "I did not blame her for this; it was merely the
result of an English education, which studiously banishes every appearance
of interest or emotion. Emotion is condemned as romantic and vulgar
sensibility, interest as enthusiasm."
The system which she reprehended is not followed at New York, and the
result is, not that the ladies "wear their hearts on their sleeves for
daws to peck at," but that they are unaffected, lively, and agreeable. The
_repose_ so studiously cultivated in England, and which is considered
perfect when it has become listlessness, apathy, and indifference, finds
no favour with our lively Transatlantic neighbours; consequently the
ladies are very _naïve_ and lively, and their manners have the vivacity
without the frivolity of the French. They say themselves that they are not
so highly educated as the ladies of England. Admirable as the common
schools are, the seminaries for ladies, with one or two exceptions, are
very inferior to ours, and the early age at which the young ladies go into
society precludes them from completing a superior education; for it is
scarcely to be expected that, when their minds are filled with the desire
for conquest and the love of admiration, they will apply systematically to
remedy their deficiencies. And again, some of their own sex in the States
have so far stepped out of woman's proper sphere, that high attainments
are rather avoided by many from the ridicule which has been attached to
the unsuitable display of them in public. The young ladies are too apt to
consider their education completed when they are emancipated from school
restraints, while in fact only the basis of it has been laid. Music and
drawing are not much cultivated in the higher branches; and though many
speak the modern languages with fluency, natural philosophy and
arithmetic, which strengthen the mental powers, are rather neglected. Yet
who has ever missed the higher education which English ladies receive,
while in the society of the lively, attractive ladies of New York? Of
course there are exceptions, where active and superior minds become highly
cultivated by their own persevering exertions; but the aids offered by
ladies' schools are comparatively insignificant.
The ladies in the United States appeared to me to be extremely domestic.
However fond they may be of admiration as girls, after their early
marriages they become dutiful wives, and affectionate, devoted mothers.
And in a country where there are few faithful attached servants, far more
devolves upon the mother than English ladies have any idea of. Those
amusements which would withdraw her from home must be abandoned; however
fond she may be of travelling, she must abide in the nursery; and all
those little attentions which in England are turned over to the nurse must
be performed by herself, or under her superintending eye. She must be the
nurse of her children alike by day and by night, in sickness and in
health; and with the attention which American ladies pay to their
husbands, their married life is by no means an idle one. Under these
circumstances, the early fading of their bloom is not to be wondered at,
and I cannot but admire the manner in which many of them cheerfully
conform to years of anxiety and comparative seclusion, after the homage
and gaiety which seemed their natural atmosphere in their early youth.
Of the gentlemen it is less easy to speak. They are immersed in a whirl of
business, often of that speculative kind which demands a constant exercise
of intense thought. The short period which they can spend in the bosom of
their families must be an enjoyment and relaxation to them; therefore, in
the absence of any statements to the contrary, it is but right to suppose
that they are affectionate husbands and fathers. However actively the
gentlemen of New York are engaged in business pursuits, they travel, read
the papers, and often devote some time to general literature. They look
rather more pale and careworn than the English, as the uncertainties of
business are greater in a country where speculative transactions are
carried to such an exaggerated extent. They also indulge in eccentricities
of appearance in the shape of beards and imperials, not to speak of the
"goatee" and moustaches of various forms. With these exceptions, there is
nothing in appearance, manner, or phraseology to distinguish them from
gentlemen in the best English society, except perhaps that they evince
more interest and animation in their conversation.
The peculiar expressions which go under the name of Americanisms are never
heard in good society, and those disagreeable habits connected with
tobacco are equally unknown. I thought that the gentlemen were remarkably
free from mannerisms of any kind. I have frequently heard Americans speak
of the descriptions given by Dickens and Mrs. Trollope of the slang and
disagreeable practices to be met with in the States; and they never, on a
single occasion, denied their truthfulness, but said that these writers
mistook the perpetrators of these vulgarities for _gentlemen_. The
gentlemen are extremely deferential and attentive in their manners to
ladies, and are hardly, I think, treated with sufficient graciousness in
return. At New York a great many are actively engaged in philanthropic
pursuits. The quiescence of manner attained by English gentlemen, which
frequently approaches inanity, is seldom to be met with in America. The
exhilarating influences of the climate and the excitement of business have
a tendency to produce animation of manner, and force and earnestness of
expression. A great difference in these respects is apparent in gentlemen
from the southern States, who live in an enervating climate, and whose
pursuits are of a more tranquil nature. The dry, elastic atmosphere of the
northern States produces a restlessness which must either expend itself in
bodily or mental exertion or force of expression; from this probably arise
the frequent use of superlatives, and the exaggeration of language, which
the more phlegmatic English attribute to the Americans.
Since my return to England I have frequently been asked the question,
"What is society like in America?" This word _society_ is one of very
ambiguous meaning. It is used in England by the titled aristocracy to
distinguish themselves, their connexions, and those whose wealth or genius
has gained them admission into their circles. But every circle, every
city, and even every country neighbourhood, has what it pleases to term
"society;" and when the members of it say of an individual, "I never met
him in society," it ostracises him, no matter how estimable or agreeable
he may be. In England, to "society," in each of its grades, wealth is a
sure passport, as has been evidenced of late years by several very
notorious instances. Thus it is extremely difficult to answer the
question, "What is New York society like?" It certainly is not like that
which is associated in our minds with the localities May Fair and
Belgravia; neither can it be compared to the circles which form
parasitically round the millionaire; still less is it like the dulness of
country neighbourhoods. New York has its charmed circles also; a republic
admits of the greatest exclusiveness; and, in the highest circles of the
city, to say that a man is not in society, is to ostracise him as in
England. It must be stated that some of the most agreeable _salons_ of New
York are almost closed against foreigners. French, Germans, and Italians,
with imposing titles, have proved how unworthily they bear them; and this
feeling against strangers--I will not call it prejudice, for there are
sufficient grounds for it--is extended to the English, some of whom, I
regret to say, have violated the rights of hospitality in many different
ways. I have heard of such conduct on the part of my countrymen as left me
no room for surprise that many families, whose acquaintance would be most
agreeable, strictly guard their drawing-room from English intrusion. And,
besides this, there are those who have entered houses merely to caricature
their inmates, and have received hospitality only to ridicule the manner
in which it was exercised, while they have indulged in unamiable
personalities, and have not respected the sanctity of private life.
It was through an introduction given me by a valued English friend that I,
as an English stranger, was received with the kindest hospitality by some
of those who have been rendered thus exclusive by the bad taste and worse
conduct of foreigners. I feel, as I write, that any remarks I make on New
York society cannot be perfectly free from bias, owing to the overwhelming
kindness and glowing hospitality which I met with in that city. I found so
much to enjoy in society, and so much to interest and please everywhere,
that when I left New York it was with the wish that the few weeks which I
was able to spend there could have been prolonged into as many months.
But, to answer the question. The best society in New York would not suffer
by comparison in any way with the best society in England. It is not in
the upper classes of any nation that we must look for national
characteristics or peculiarities. Society throughout the civilized world
is, to a certain extent, cast in the same mould; the same laws of
etiquette prevail, and the same conventionalisms restrict in great measure
the display of any individual characteristics. Balls are doubtless the
same in "society" all over the world; a certain amount of black cloth, kid
gloves, white muslin, epaulettes if they can be procured, dancing, music,
and ices. Every one acknowledges that dinner-parties are equally dull in
London and Paris, in Calcutta and in New York, unless the next neighbour
happens to be peculiarly agreeable. Therefore, it is most probable that
balls and dinner-parties are in New York exactly the same as in other
places, except that the latter are less numerous, and are principally
confined to gentlemen. It is not, in fact, convenient to give dinner
parties in New York; there are not sufficient domestics to bear the
pressure of an emergency, and the pleasure is not considered worth the
trouble. If two or three people have sufficient value for the society of
the host and hostess to come in to an ordinary dinner, at an ordinary
hour, they are welcome. If turtle and venison were offered on such an
occasion, it would have the effect of repelling, rather than attracting,
the guests, and it would not have the effect of making them believe that
their host and hostess always lived on such luxurious viands.
As dinner-parties are neither deemed agreeable nor convenient, and as many
sensible people object to the late hours and general dissipation of mind
produced by balls and large dancing parties, a happy innovation upon old
customs has been made, and early evening receptions have been introduced.
Some of the most splendid mansions of New York, as well as the most
agreeable, are now thrown open weekly for the reception of visitors in a
social manner. These receptions differ from what are known by the same
name in London. The crowd in which people become wedged, in a vain attempt
to speak to the hostess, is as much as possible avoided; late hours are
abandoned; the guests, who usually arrive about eight, are careful to
disappear shortly after eleven, lest, Cinderella-like, the hostess should
vanish. Then, again, all the guests feel themselves on a perfect equality,
as people always ought to do who meet in the same room, on the invitation
of the same hostess. [Footnote: The Americans justly ridicule that species
of bad breeding which leads people at parties to draw back from others,
from a fear that their condescension should fall upon ground unconsecrated
by the dictatorial fiat of "society." An amusing instance of the effect of
this pride, which occurred in England, was related. Some years ago the
illustrious Baron Humboldt was invited to play the part of lion at the
house of a nobleman. A select circle of fashionables appeared, and among
the company a man very plainly dressed and not noticeable in appearance.
He spoke first to one person, and then to another: some drew themselves up
with a haughty stare; others answered in monosyllables; but all repulsed
the Baron; and it was not until late in the evening, after he had departed
early, disgusted with this ungracious reception, that these people knew
that by their conduct they had lost the advantage of the conversation of
one of the greatest men of the age.]
The lady of the house adopts the old but very sensible fashion of
introducing people to each other, which helps to prevent a good deal of
stiffness. As the rooms in the New York houses are generally large, people
sit, stand, or walk about as they feel inclined, or group themselves round
some one gifted with peculiar conversational powers. At all of these re-
unions there was a great deal of conversation worth listening to or
joining in, and, as a stranger, I had the advantage of being introduced to
every one who was considered worth knowing. Poets, historians, and men of
science are to be met with frequently at these receptions; but they do not
go as lions, but to please and be pleased; and such men as Longfellow,
Prescott, or Washington Irving may be seen mixing with the general throng
with so much _bonhommie_ and simplicity, that none would fancy that in
their own land they are the envy of their age, and sustain world-wide
reputations. The way in which literary lions are exhibited in England, as
essential to the _éclat_ of fashionable parties, is considered by the
Americans highly repugnant to good taste. I was very agreeably surprised
with the unaffected manners and extreme simplicity of men eminent in the
scientific and literary world.
These evening receptions are a very happy idea; for people, whose business
or inclinations would not permit them to meet in any other way, are thus
brought together without formality or expense. The conversation generally
turned on Europe, general literature, art, science, or the events of the
day. I must say that I never heard one remark that could be painful to an
English ear made, even in jest. There was none of that vulgar boastfulness
and detraction which is to be met with in less educated society. Most of
the gentlemen whom I met, and many of the ladies, had travelled in Europe,
and had brought back highly cultivated tastes in art, and cosmopolitan
ideas, which insensibly affect the circles in which they move.
All appeared to take a deep interest in the war, and in our success. I
heard our military movements in the Crimea criticised with some severity
by military men, some of whom have since left for the seat of war, to
watch our operations. The conclusion of the Vienna negociations appeared
to excite some surprise. "I had no idea," an officer observed to me, "that
public opinion was so strong in England as to be able to compel a minister
of such strong Russian proclivities as Lord Aberdeen to go to war with his
old friend Nicholas." The arrangements at Balaklava excited very general
condemnation; people were fond of quoting the saying attributed to a
Russian officer, "You have an army of _lions_ led by _asses_."
The Americans are always anxious to know what opinion a stranger has
formed of their country, and I would be asked thirty times on one evening,
"How do you like America?" Fortunately, the kindness which I met with
rendered it impossible for me to give any but a satisfactory reply.
English literature was a very general topic of conversation, and it is
most gratifying to find how our best English works are "familiar in their
mouths as household words." Some of the conversation on literature was of
a very brilliant order. I heard very little approximation to either wit or
humour, and _badinage_ is not cultivated, or excelled in, to the same
extent as in England.
On one occasion I was asked to exhibit a collection of autographs, and the
knowledge of English literature possessed by the Americans was shown by
the information they had respecting not only our well-known authors, but
those whose names have not an extended reputation even with us. Thus the
works of Maitland, Ritchie, Sewell, Browning, Howitt, and others seemed
perfectly familiar to them. The trembling signature of George III. excited
general interest from his connection with their own history, and I was not
a little amused to see how these republicans dwelt with respectful
attention on the decided characters of Queen Victoria. A very
characteristic letter of Lord Byron's was read aloud, and, in return for
the pleasure they had experienced, several kind individuals gave me
valuable autographs of their own _literati_ and statesmen. Letters written
by Washington descend as precious heirlooms in families, and so great is
the estimation in which this venerated patriot is held, that, with all the
desire to oblige a stranger which the Americans evince, I believe that I
could not have purchased a few lines in his handwriting with my whole
collection.
It would be difficult to give any idea of the extremely agreeable
character of these receptions. They seemed to me to be the most sensible
way of seeing society that I ever met with, and might be well worthy of
general imitation in England. When I saw how sixty or a hundred people
could be brought together without the inducements of dancing, music,
refreshments, or display of any kind; when I saw also how thoroughly they
enjoyed themselves, how some were introduced, and those who were not
entered into sprightly conversation without fear of lessening an imaginary
dignity, I more than ever regretted the icy coldness in which we wrap
ourselves. And yet, though we take such trouble to clothe ourselves in
this glacial dignity, nothing pleases us better than to go to other
countries and throw it off, and mix with our fellow men and women as
rational beings should, not as if we feared either to compromise ourselves
or to be repulsed by them. This national stiffness renders us the
laughing-stock of foreigners; and in a certain city in America no play was
ever more successful than the '_Buckram Englishman_,' which ridiculed and
caricatured our social peculiarities.
The usages of etiquette are much the same as in England, but people
appeared to be assisted in the enjoyment of society by them rather than
trammeled. Morning visiting is carried to a great extent, but people call
literally in the morning, before two o'clock oftener than after. On New
Year's Day, in observance of an old Dutch custom, the ladies remain at
home, and all the gentlemen of their acquaintance make a point of calling
upon them. Of course time will only allow of the interchange of the
compliments of the season, where so much social duty has to be performed
in one brief day, but this pleasant custom tends to keep up old
acquaintanceships and annihilate old feuds. It is gratifying to observe
that any known deviation from the rules of morality is punished with
exclusion from the houses of those who are considered the leaders of New
York society; it is also very pleasing to see that to the best circles in
New York wealth alone is not a passport. I have heard cards of invitation
to these receptions refused to foreigners bearing illustrious titles, and
to persons who have the reputation of being _millionaires_. At the same
time, I have met those of humble position and scanty means, who are
treated with distinction because of their talents or intellectual powers.
Yet I have never seen such a one patronised or treated as a lion; he is
not expected to do any homage, or pay any penalty, for his admission into
society. In these circles in New York we are spared the humiliating
spectacle of men of genius or intellect cringing and uneasy in the
presence of their patronising inferiors, whom birth or wealth may have
placed socially above them. Of course there is society in New York where
the vulgar influence of money is omnipotent, and extravagant display is
fashionable; it is of the best that I have been speaking.