_Journey from Albany to Boston—New Lebanon—Pittsfield—Road
Repairing—The Features of the Country—Rhododendrons—Northampton—Mr
Stuart’s Description of Northampton—Stage Passengers—Mode of
Courtship—Villages—Agricultural Notices._
My companions and I having left Scotland without fixing on a route by
which we were to proceed, I consented to visit the New England States,
in order that I might claim their company through the Western States, to
which they expressed an aversion. Accordingly we left Albany at two
o’clock in the morning, by a stage which carried the mail-bag, crossing
the Hudson in a horse ferry-boat, and reaching Nassau, by five, where we
breakfasted on indifferent fare. Shortly afterwards we passed New
Lebanon, finely situated in a lovely valley, surrounded by picturesque
hills, a great part of which belongs to the religious sect denominated
Shakers, whose principal establishment is here, and whose garden seeds
are justly esteemed throughout North America. New Lebanon is celebrated
for mineral waters, chiefly used for bathing; and the hotels afford
ample accommodation for visitors. Nine miles beyond New Lebanon is the
village of Pittsfield, a clean and beautiful village, reposing in a
charming valley. The houses form a spacious square, in the centre of
which is a tall aged elm, seemingly a remnant of unsubdued nature. There
are several churches and hotels. Here the members of the Berkshire
Agricultural Society, the oldest in America, hold their meetings, the
first show of which took place in 1807, and consisted of two Merino
sheep. We dined at Peru, a miserable country hotel, where bad fare was
washed down by worse tea, the first time such a beverage had been
presented to us during dinner, and is presented only in inferior hotels.
We reached Northampton about six in the evening, having travelled
seventy-seven miles in sixteen hours.
This day’s travelling afforded opportunities of seeing the American
system of road-mending, or more correctly speaking, road-destroying. A
plough, drawn by four, and occasionally six oxen, with two drivers, one
man holding by the stilts, and another standing on the beam, is passed
along the margins of the road, turning every fifty yards. The loosened
earth is then moved to the centre of the road, by men with shovels, or
by a levelling-box drawn by oxen, the stones, great and small, being
first carefully removed from amongst the earth, and in many instances
more were thrown aside than sufficient to Macadamize the road.
The country from Albany, has not an agricultural feature worthy of
notice, the soil being chiefly poor sand, interspersed with rocks and
innumerable stones. The crops were truly miserable, and the pastures
thinly clothed with sheep and cattle, which were invariably lean. Some
beautiful cows were seen at Northampton, apparently descended from the
North Devon breed of England.
The road in several places was so hilly that the stage passengers walked
on foot, which afforded an opportunity of examining much that was
interesting. This was one of the happiest days of my life, almost every
moving and stationary thing on the earth’s surface being new to me, and
the weather fitted for displaying them to the best advantage.
Strawberries of different kinds were gathered, tasted, and their seeds
preserved. Shrubs and flowers were culled and compared. Insects and
birds seemed to vie with each other in displaying brilliant colours;
squirrels and woodpeckers of every hue were sporting around the trunks
of aged trees, and the snakes were basking in the glorious sunbeams.
Nature seemed in jubilee.
The forests through which the road led were strewed with decayed and
decaying trees of former ages, and at the same time exhibited living
specimens of each variety in every stage of growth, from the seedling
budding into existence, to the aged pine, bearing the white and flowing
tresses of Spanish moss, so emblematical of hoary and declining man. The
flowers of rhododendrons and kalmias were unexpanded on the highest
ridges, and opening into beauty in the valleys below, illustrative of
the effect of elevation on climate. These plants were growing in all
situations, on rocks, deep rich soil, beneath trees, and on exposed
banks of rivers. The kalmias with bright red flowers, and white and pink
blossomed varieties of rhododendron, were mingled in pleasing groups.
Near Northampton some snow-white rhododendrons, twelve feet in height,
rich in blossoms and foliage, were shading cows browsing on the banks of
the river, where decaying trunks of pine-trees stood in picturesque
combination, like ruins of an ancient castle. After partaking of tea at
an excellent hotel, we walked forth to survey the village, which is
reckoned the most beautiful in New England. Northampton is extremely
irregular, branching into roads leading in all directions. The houses
are composed of wood painted white, with green Venetian blinds. The
congregational church is a handsome structure, of the same hue and
materials as the houses, and cannot fail to attract the notice of
strangers, being one of the best specimens of wood and paint that the
United States afford. The ranges of houses are enveloped in trees,
amongst which are many magnificent elms, members perhaps of the original
forest, reducing modern vegetation to insignificance, and affording
umbrageous shelter to the inhabitants. The village stands in the rich
valley of the Connecticut, and is surrounded by hills rising nearly 1000
feet in height, wooded to the summit, the chief of which is Mount
Holyoke.
My impressions of this village, which must be attractive at all times,
were perhaps heightened by the circumstances under which it was viewed.
A delightful day’s travelling had terminated at a comfortable hotel. The
air was luxuriously balmy, and a cloudless sun, on the eve of setting,
imparted a rich mellow tint to the face of nature, with which every
person of observation, leading a country life, must be familiar, and
have experienced how decorative it is to vegetation, and soothingly
gratifying to human feelings. The houses, decked in white and green
colours, which harmonize in rural scenery, and are associated with
purity and shade, so desirable during an American summer, were in
keeping with the landscape. In seeking for a comparison to Northampton,
memory suggested the village of Dirleton, near to my native place in
Scotland. But Dirleton, although associated with some of my best
cherished recollections, and containing a picturesque ruin shrouded in
ivy, and adorned with shrubbery of unrivalled sweetness, yielded to
Northampton in situation, buildings, and vegetable beauty.
Having carried Mr Stuart’s work, “Three Years’ Residence in America,”
with us, as a kind of guide-book, for which it is recommended in the
author’s preface, we experienced considerable disappointment at being
unable to corroborate his description of Northampton. Instead of finding
that “much of the pavement and steps are of white marble,” we could only
observe a small portion which consisted of red brick. I shall not,
however, take upon me to say there is no white marble pavement or steps
in the village, but three of us walked about for an hour and a half
without discovering a single stone of white marble; we did not, of
course, approach villas remotely situated from the public roads, with a
view of gratifying our curiosity, but every street, lane, and walk which
promised gratification, were explored. His allusions to the vegetable
beauties are also unhappy, when he says, “if a traveller in Britain were
to stumble on such a place as this, he would not fail to enquire whose
great estate was in the neighbourhood, and attribute the decorations of
shrubs, flowers, &c., which adorn even the smallest habitations here, to
the taste of a wealthy neighbour, or his being obliged to make them to
promote electioneering views.” In the streets of Northampton, we
numbered three or four bushes of lilac and white pipe, and a few roses,
as the amount of shrubs adorning the foreground of houses, and flowers
of small size were equally rare. The spaces were generally unmown grass,
and in several instances luxuriant thistles and docks excluded light
from the apartments. At the back part of the hotel in which we lodged,
there was a garden, surrounded with a low ugly wooden fence, and crowded
with the gaudiest of flowers, but our general impression was, that the
gardens are ill kept, void of beauty, and unworthy of the place. I would
require no better illustration of the small progress the inhabitants of
the United States have made in gardening than Northampton, where man
hath long resided, and done so little to improve the exquisite beauties
of nature.
We left Northampton at three o’clock next morning, and passed the bridge
and valley of Connecticut before daybreak, breakfasting at Balchertown,
and passing through Ware and Brookfield to Worcester, where we dined,
and reached Boston Tremont hotel in the evening.
The stage passengers, in course of the day, were intelligent,
communicative, and agreeable companions, polite during meals, and
frequently asking others to partake of the dishes they distributed. A
gentleman asked me if the old mode of courting in Scotland was still
practised—when, after the consent of the lady’s parents had been
obtained, she was mounted on horseback, and her suitor placed in a
similar situation, and if he could not overtake the fair one, it was
considered a refusal. I laughed heartily, and assured him it was the
first time I had heard of such a custom existing in my country, which,
in all probability, never existed there, and could not now, as most of
the youth of both sexes were denied the luxury of riding, by a heavy tax
on saddle-horses. He rejoined, with an air of astonishment—“What! horses
taxed! Does any thing escape government? Would a man having a nose
longer than his companion’s be taxed for it?” I answered, “if he filled
it with snuff—a practice very common amongst my countrymen—he would be
taxed.”
The villages through which we passed presented the same characters—white
wooden houses with green Venetian blinds, and every thing wearing the
appearance of cleanliness, order, and comfort.
The use of wood for fuel, the machinery of the manufacturing
villages—and all of them may be termed such—being propelled by water,
and the absence of coal smoke, contribute, in no small degree, to the
external cleanliness of the houses and garments of the inhabitants.
Manufacturing establishments were conspicuous in every direction, and
innumerable bundles of rye straw were bleaching around the cottages—the
manufacturing of straw hats to an immense extent being carried on in
this district.
We passed the workmen employed at the Boston and Worcester railway, at
present in progress, and which, it is said, will ultimately be extended
to Albany. Agriculture furnishes little of interest, the soil is poor,
and the crops partaking of its character—rye being the prevailing crop.
Small patches of Indian corn were observed, nearly destroyed by frost;
and the pastures were inferior. In the neighbourhood of Worcester, many
of the fences consist of stone walls. Within a few miles of Boston five
or six men were engaged in throwing peats out of a bog, seemingly for
the purpose of fuel.
The horses observed on the roads were lean and inferior. Draught oxen
seemed in good condition, and of large size. Many of the cows were
finely formed, of a deep red colour, with dark faces. Barberry, elder,
and alder were growing plentifully in a state of nature. The
rhododendron seemed to occupy the place of furze in Scotland—the kalmia
that of heath.