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Diary in America, Series One

by Frederick Marryat · English · Gutenberg #23137 · 960,754 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Diary in America, Series One

Author: Frederick Marryat


        
Release date: October 21, 2007 [eBook #23137]
                Most recently updated: May 28, 2016

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/23137

Credits: Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIARY IN AMERICA, SERIES ONE ***




Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




Diary in America--Series One, by Captain Marryat.

________________________________________________________________________
In the late 1830s Captain Marryat, already a famous literary figure in
North America, visited the United States and Canada, writing his
observations in two Series of volumes, each containing three books.

These were published in Britain as the six books, but were published in
America as two books with small print and thin paper, thus enabling the
Diary to be published as two books only. It is from first editions of
the American version that we have worked, though we do possess three of
the British first edition of six volumes.

While some of the observations are trivial, and some even possibly
misleading, there is a great deal of useful fact in these books, making
them well worth looking at.  There are some tables that may not
reproduce well in the PDA version of these books.

Marryat used his knowledge of America to write a novel based in the
more southerly part, especially California and Texas.

________________________________________________________________________
DIARY IN AMERICA--SERIES ONE, BY CAPTAIN MARRYAT.


Volume the First--Introduction.

After many years of travel, during which I had seen men under almost
every variety of government, religion, and climate, I looked round to
discover if there were not still new combinations under which human
nature was to be investigated.  I had traversed the old country until
satisfied, if not satiated; and I had sailed many a weary thousand miles
from west to east, and from north to south, until people, manners, and
customs were looked upon by me with indifference.

The press was constantly pouring out works upon the new world, so
contradictory to each other, and pronounced so unjust by the Americans,
that my curiosity was excited.  It appeared strange to me that
travellers whose works showed evident marks of talent should view the
same people through such very different mediums; and that their
gleanings should, generally speaking, be of such meagre materials.  Was
there so little to be remarked about America, its government, its
institutions, and the effect which these had upon the people, that the
pages of so many writers upon that country should be filled up with how
the Americans dined or drank wine, and what description of spoons and
forks were used at table?  Either the Americans remained purely and
unchangedly English, as when they left their father-land; or the
question required more investigation and deeper research than travellers
in their hasty movements have been able to bestow upon it.  Whether I
should be capable of throwing any new light upon the subject, I knew
not, but at all events I made up my mind that I would visit the country
and judge for myself.

On my first arrival I perceived little difference between the city of
New York and one of our principal provincial towns; and, for its people,
not half so much as between the people of Devonshire or Cornwall and
those of Middlesex.  I had been two or three weeks in that city, and I
said: There is certainly not much to write about, nor much more than
what has already been continually repeated.  No wonder that those who
preceded me have indulged in puerilities to swell out their books.  But
in a short time I altered my opinion: even at New York, the English
appearance of the people gradually wore away; my perception of character
became more keen, my observance consequently more nice and close, and I
found that there was a great deal to reflect upon and investigate, and
that America and the American people were indeed an enigma; and I was no
longer surprised at the incongruities which were to be detected in those
works which had attempted to describe the country.  I do not assert that
I shall myself succeed, when so many have failed, but at any rate, this
I am certain of, my remarks will be based upon a more sure foundation--
an analysis of human nature.

There are many causes why those who have written upon America have
fallen into error: they have represented the Americans as a nation: now
they are not yet, nor will they for many years be, in the true sense of
the word, a nation--they are a mass of many people cemented together to
a certain degree, by a general form of government; but they are in a
state of transition, and (what may at first appear strange) no
amalgamation as has yet taken place: the puritan of the east, the Dutch
descent of the middle states, the cavalier of the south, are nearly as
marked and distinct now, as at the first occupation of the country,
softened down indeed, but still distinct.  Not only are the populations
of the various states distinct, but even those of the cities: and it is
hardly possible to make a remark which may be considered as general to a
country, where the varieties of soil and of climate are so extensive.
Even on that point upon which you might most safely venture to
generalise, namely, the effect of a democratical form of government upon
the mass, your observations must be taken with some exceptions, arising
from the climate, manners, and customs, and the means of livelihood so
differing in this extended country.

Indeed the habit in which travellers indulge of repeating facts which
have taken place, of having taken place in America, has, perhaps
unintentionally on their part, very much misled the English reader.  It
would hardly be considered fair, if the wilder parts of Ireland, and the
disgraceful acts which are committed there, were represented as
characteristic of England, or the British empire; yet between London and
Connaught there is less difference than between the most civilised and
intellectual portion of America, such as Boston and Philadelphia, and
the wild regions, and wilder inhabitants of the west of the Mississippi,
and Arkansas, where reckless beings compose a scattered population,
residing too far for the law to reach; or where if it could reach, the
power of the government would prove much too weak to enforce obedience
to it.  To do justice to all parties, America should be examined and
portrayed piecemeal, every state separately, for every state is
different, running down the scale from refinement to a state of
barbarism almost unprecedented; but each presenting matter for
investigation and research, and curious examples of cause and effect.

Many of those who have preceded me have not been able to devote
sufficient time to their object, and therefore have failed.  If you have
passed through a strange country, totally differing in manners, and
customs, and language from your own, you may give your readers some idea
of the contrast, and the impressions made upon you by what you saw, even
if you have travelled in haste or sojourned there but a few days; but
when the similarity in manners, customs, and language is so great, that
you may imagine yourself to be in your own country, it requires more
research, a greater degree of acumen, and a fuller investigation of
cause and effect than can be given in a few months of rapid motion.
Moreover, English travellers have apparently been more active in
examining the interior of houses, than the public path from which they
should have drawn their conclusions; they have searched with the
curiosity of a woman, instead of examining and surveying with the eye of
a philosopher.  Following up this wrong track has been the occasion of
much indiscretion and injustice on their parts, and of justifiably
indignant feeling on the part of the Americans.  By many of the writers
on America, the little discrepancies, the mere trifles of custom have
been dwelt upon, with a sarcastic, ill-natured severity to give their
works that semblance of pith, in which, in reality, they were miserably
deficient; and they violated the rights of hospitality that they might
increase their interest as authors.

The Americans are often themselves the cause of their being
misrepresented; there is no country perhaps, in which the habit of
deceiving for amusement, or what is termed hoaxing, is so common.
Indeed this and the hyperbole constitute the major part of American
humour.  If they have the slightest suspicion that a foreigner is about
to write a book, nothing appears to give them so much pleasure as to try
to mislead him; this has constantly been practised upon me, and for all
I know, they may in some instances have been successful; if they have,
all I can say of the story is that "_se non e vero, e si ben trovato_,"
that it might have happened.  [Note 1.]

When I was at Boston, a gentleman of my acquaintance brought me Miss
Martineau's work, and was excessively delighted when he pointed out to
me two pages of fallacies, which he had told her with a grave face, and
which she had duly recorded and printed.  This practice, added to
another, that of attempting to conceal (for the Americans are aware of
many of their defects), has been with me productive of good results: it
has led me to much close investigation, and has made me very cautious in
asserting what has not been proved to my own satisfaction to be worthy
of credibility.

Another difficulty and cause of misrepresentation is, that travellers
are not aware of the jealousy existing between the inhabitants of the
different states and cities.  The eastern states pronounce the
southerners to be choleric, reckless, regardless of law, and indifferent
as to religion; while the southerners designate the eastern states as a
nursery of overreaching pedlars, selling clocks and wooden nutmegs.
This running into extremes is produced from the clashing of their
interests as producers and manufacturers.  Again, Boston turns up her
erudite nose at New York; Philadelphia, in her pride, looks down upon
both New York and Boston; while New York, clinking her dollars, swears
the Bostonians are a parcel of puritanical prigs, and the Philadelphians
a would-be aristocracy.  A western man from Kentucky, when at the
Tremont House in Boston, begged me particularly not to pay attention to
what they said of his state in that quarter.  Both a Virginian and
Tennessean, when I was at New York did the same.

At Boston, I was drinking champaign at a supper.  "Are you drinking
champaign?" said a young Bostonian.  "That's New York--take claret; or,
if you will drink champaign, pour it into a _green_ glass, and they will
think it _hock_; champaign is not right."  How are we to distinguish
between right and wrong in this queer world?  At New York, they do drink
a great deal of champaign; it is the small beer of the dinner-table.
Champaign become associated with New York, and therefore is not _right_.
I will do the New Yorkers the justice to say, that, as far as _drinks_
are concerned, they are above prejudice: all's right with them, provided
there's enough of it.

The above remarks will testify, that travellers in America have great
difficulties to contend with, and that their channels of information
have been chiefly those of the drawing-room or dinner-table.  Had I
worked through the same, I should have found them very difficult of
access; for the Americans had determined that they would no longer
extend their hospitality to those who returned it with ingratitude--nor
can they be blamed.  Let us reverse the case.  Were not the doors of
many houses in England shut against an American author, when from his
want of knowledge of conventional _usage_, he published what never
should have appeared in print!  And should another return to England,
after his tetchy, absurd remarks upon the English, is there much chance
of his receiving a kind welcome?  Most assuredly not; both these authors
will be received with caution.  The Americans, therefore, are not only
not to blame, but would prove themselves very deficient in a proper
respect for themselves, if they again admitted into their domestic
circles those who eventually requited them with abuse.

Admitting this, of course I have no feelings of ill-will toward them for
any want of hospitality toward me; on the contrary, I was pleased with
the neglect, as it left me free, and unshackled from any real or fancied
claims which the Americans might have made upon me on that score.
Indeed, I had not been three weeks in the country before I decided upon
accepting no more invitations, even charily as they were made.  I found
that, although invited, my presence was a restraint upon the company;
every one appeared afraid to speak; and when anything ludicrous
occurred, the cry would be--"Oh, now.  Captain Marryat, don't put that
into your book."  More than once, when I happened to be in large
parties, a question such as follows would be put to me by some "free and
enlightened individual":--

"Now, Captain Marryat, I ask you before this company, and I trust you
will give me a categorical answer, Are you, or are you not about to
write a book upon this country?"  I hardly need observe to the English
reader, that, under such circumstances, the restraint, became mutual; I
declined all farther invitations, and adhered to this determination as
far as I could without cause of offence, during my whole tour through
the United States.

But if I admit, that after the usage which they had received, the
Americans are justified in not again tendering their hospitably to the
English, I cannot, at the same time, but express my opinion as to their
conduct toward me personally.  They had no right to insult and annoy me
in the manner they did, from nearly one end of the Union to the other,
either because my predecessors had expressed an unfavourable opinion of
them before my arrival, or because they expected that I would do the
same upon my return to my own country, I remark upon this conduct, not
from any feeling of ill-will or desire of retaliation, but to compel the
Americans to admit that I am under no obligations to them: that I
received from them much more of insult and outrage than of kindness;
and, consequently, that the charge of ingratitude cannot be laid to my
door, however offensive to them some of the remarks in this work may
happen to be.

And here I must observe, that the Americans can no longer anticipate
lenity from the English traveller, as latterly they have so deeply
committed themselves.  Once, indeed, they could say, "We admit and are
hospitable to the English, who, as soon as they leave our country, turn
round and abuse and revile us.  We have our faults, it is true: but such
conduct on their part is not kind or generous."  But they can say this
no longer; they have retaliated, and in their attacks they have been
regardless of justice.  The three last works upon the Americans, written
by English authors, were, on the whole, favourable to them; Mr Power's
and Mr Grund's most decidedly so; and Miss Martineau's, filled as it is
with absurdities and fallacies, was _intended_, at all events to be
favourable.

In opposition to them, we have Mr Cooper's remarks upon England, in
which my countrymen are certainly not spared; and, since that
publication, we have another of much greater importance, written by Mr
Carey, of Philadelphia, not, indeed, in a strain of vituperation or
ill-feeling, but asserting, and no doubt to his own satisfaction and
that of his countrymen, proving, that in every important point, that is
to say, under the heads of "Security of Person and Property, of Morals,
Education, Religion, Industry, Invention, Credit," (and consequently
Honesty,) America is in advance of England and every other nation in
Europe!!  The tables, then, are turned; it is no longer the English, but
the Americans who are the assailants; and such being the case, I beg
that it may be remembered, that many of the remarks which will
subsequently appear in this work have been forced from me by the attacks
made upon my nation by the American authors; and that, if I am compelled
to draw comparisons, it is not with the slightest wish to annoy or
humiliate the Americans, but in legitimate and justifiable defence of my
own native land.

America is a wonderful country, endowed by the Omnipotent with natural
advantages which no other can boast of; and the mind can hardly
calculate upon the degree of perfection and power to which, whether the
states are eventually separated or not, it may in the course of two
centuries arrive.  At present all is energy and enterprise; everything
is in a state of transition, but of rapid improvement--so rapid, indeed,
that those who would describe America now, would have to correct all in
the short space of ten years; for ten years in America is almost equal
to a century in the old continent.  Now, you may pass through a wild
forest, where the elk browses and the panther howls; in ten years, that
very forest, with its denizens, will, most likely, have disappeared, and
in their place you will find towns with thousands of inhabitants; with
arts, manufactures, and machinery, all in full activity.

In reviewing America, we must look upon it as showing the development of
the English character under a new aspect, arising from a new state of
things.  If I were to draw a comparison between the English and the
Americans, I should say that there is almost as much difference between
the two nations at this present time, as there has long been between the
English and the Dutch.  The latter are considered by us as phlegmatic
and slow; and we may be considered the same, compared with our energetic
descendants.  Time to an American is everything, [Note 2] and space he
attempts to reduce to a mere nothing.  By the steamboats, rail-roads,
and the wonderful facilities of water-carriage, a journey of five
hundred miles is as little considered in America, as would be here a
journey from London to Brighton.  "_Go ahead_" is the real motto of the
country; and every man does push on, to gain in advance of his
neighbour.  The American lives twice as long as others; for he does
twice the work during the time that he lives.  He begins life sooner: at
fifteen he is considered a man, plunges into the stream of enterprise,
floats and struggles with his fellows.  In every trifle an American
shows the value he puts upon time.  He rises early, eats his meals with
the rapidity of a wolf, and is the whole day at his business.  If he be
a merchant, his money, whatever it may amount to, is seldom invested; it
is all floating--his accumulations remain active; and when he dies, his
wealth has to be collected from the four quarters of the globe.

Now, all this energy and activity is of English origin; and were England
expanded into America, the same results would be produced.  To a certain
degree, the English, were in former times, what the Americans are now;
and this it is which has raised our country so high in the scale of
nations; but since we have become so closely packed--so crowded, that
there is hardly room for the population, our activity has been
proportionably cramped and subdued.  But, in this vast and favoured
country, the very associations and impressions of childhood foster and
enlighten the intellect and precociously rouse the energies.  The wide
expanse of territory already occupied--the vast and magnificent rivers--
the boundless regions yet remaining to be peopled--the rapidity of
communication--the dispatch with which everything is effected, are
evident almost to the child.  To those who have rivers many thousand
miles in length, the passage across the Atlantic (of 3,500 miles)
appears but a trifle; and the American ladies talk of spending the
winter at Paris with as much indifference as one of our landed
proprietors would, of going up to London for the season.

We must always bear in mind the peculiar and wonderful advantages of
_country_, when we examine America and its form of government; for the
country has had more to do with upholding this democracy than people
might at first imagine.  Among the advantages of democracy, the greatest
is, perhaps, that _all start fair_; and the boy who holds the
traveller's horse, as Van Buren is said to have done, may become the
president of the United States.  But it is the _country_, and not the
government; which has been productive of such rapid strides as have been
made by America.  Indeed it is a query whether the form of government
would have existed down to this day, had it not been for the advantages
derived from the vast extent and boundless resources of the territory in
which it was established.  Let the American direct his career to any
goal he pleases, his energies are unshackled; and, in the race, the best
man must win.  There is room for all, and millions more.  Let him choose
his profession--his career is not checked or foiled by the excess of
those who have already embarked in it.  In every department there is an
opening for talent; and for those inclined to work, work is always to be
procured.  You have no complaint in this country, that every profession
is so full that it is impossible to know what to do with your children.
There is a vast field, and all may receive the reward due for their
labour.

In a country where the ambition and energies of man have been roused to
such an extent, the great point is to find out worthy incitements for
ambition to feed upon.  A virtue directed into a wrong channel may, by
circumstances, prove little better than (even if it does not sink down
into) actual vice.  Hence it is that a democratic form of government is
productive of such demoralising effects.  Its rewards are few.  Honours
of every description, which stir up the soul of man to noble deeds--
worthy incitements, they have none.  The only compensation they can
offer for services is money; and the only distinction--the only means of
raising himself above his fellows left to the American--is wealth;
consequently, the acquisition of wealth has become the great spring of
action.  But it is not sought after with the avarice to hoard, but with
the ostentation to expend.  It is the effect of ambition directed into a
wrong channel.  Each man would surpass his neighbour; and the only great
avenue open to all, and into which thousands may press without much
jostling of each other, is that which leads to the shrine of Mammon.  It
is our nature to attempt to raise ourselves above our fellow-men; it is
the main-spring of existence--the incitement to all that is great and
virtuous, or great and vicious.  In America, but a small portion can
raise themselves, or find rewards for superior talent, but wealth is
attainable by all; and having no aristocracy, no honours, no
distinctions to look forward to, wealth has become the substitute, and,
with very few exceptions, every man is great in proportion to his
riches.  The consequence is, that to leave a sum of money when they die
is of little importance to the majority of the Americans.  Their object
is to amass it while young, and obtain the consideration which it gives
them during their lifetime.

The society in the United States is that which must naturally be
expected in a new country where there are few men of leisure, and the
majority are working hard to obtain that wealth which almost alone gives
importance under a democratic form of government.  You will find
intellectual and gentlemanlike people in America, but they are scattered
here and there.  The circle of society is not complete: wherever you go,
you will find an admixture, sudden wealth having admitted those who but
a few years back were in humble circumstances; and in the constant state
of transition which takes place in this country, it will be half a
century, perhaps, before a select circle of society can be collected
together in any one city or place.  The improvement is rapid, but the
vast extent of country which has to be peopled prevents that improvement
from being manifest.  The stream flows inland, and those who are here
today are gone to-morrow, and their places in society filled up by
others who ten years back had no prospect of ever being admitted.  All
is transition, the waves follow one another to the far west, the froth
and scum, boiling in the advance.

America is, indeed, well worth the study of the philosopher.  A vast
nation forming, society ever changing, all in motion and activity,
nothing complete, the old continent pouring in her surplus to supply the
loss of the eastern states, all busy as a hive, full of energy and
activity.  Every year multitudes swarm off from the east, like bees: not
the young only, but the old, quitting the close-built cities, society,
and refinement, to settle down in some lone spot in the vast prairies,
where the rich soil offers to them the certain prospect of their
families and children being one day possessed of competency and wealth.

To write upon America _as a nation_ would be absurd, for nation,
properly speaking, it is not; but to consider it in its present chaotic
state, is well worth the labour.  It would not only exhibit to the
living a somewhat new picture of the human mind, but, as a curious page
in the Philosophy of History, it would hereafter serve as a subject of
review for the Americans themselves.

It is not my intention to follow the individualising plans of the
majority of those who have preceded me in this country.  I did not sail
across the Atlantic to ascertain whether the Americans eat their dinners
with two-prong iron, or three-prong silver forks, with chopsticks, or
their fingers; it is quite sufficient for me to know that they do eat
and drink; if they did not, it would be a curious anomaly which I should
not pass over.  My object was, to examine and ascertain _what were the
effects of a democratic form of government and climate upon a people
which, with all its foreign admixture, may still be considered as
English_.

It is a fact that our virtues and our vices depend more upon
circumstances than upon ourselves, and there are no circumstances which
operate so powerfully upon us as government and climate.  Let it not be
supposed that, in the above assertion, I mean to extenuate vice, or
imply that we are not free agents.  Naturally prone to vices in general,
circumstances will render us more prone to one description of vice than
to another; but that is no reason why we should not be answerable for
it, since it is our duty to guard against the besetting sin.  But as an
agent in this point the form of government under which we live is,
perhaps, the most powerful in its effects, and thus we constantly hear
of vices peculiar to a country, when it ought rather to be said, of
vices peculiar to a government.

Never, perhaps, was the foundation of a nation laid under such
peculiarly favourable auspices as that of America.  The capital they
commenced with was industry, activity, and courage.  They had, moreover,
the advantage of the working of genius and wisdom, and the records of
history, as a beacon and a guide; the trial of ages, as to the
respective merits of the various governments to which men have
submitted; the power to select the merits from the demerits in each; a
boundless extent of country, rich in everything that could be of
advantage to man; and they were led by those who where really giants in
those days, a body of men collected and acting together, forming an
aggregate of wisdom and energy, such as probably will not for centuries
be seen again.  Never was there such an opportunity of testing the
merits of a republic, of ascertaining if such a form of government could
be maintained--in fact, of proving whether an enlightened people could
govern themselves.  And it must be acknowledged that the work was well
begun; Washington, when his career had closed, left the country a pure
republic.  He did all that man could do.  Miss Martineau asserts that
"America has solved the great problem, that a republic can exist for
fifty years;" but such is not the case.  America has proved that, under
peculiar advantages, a people can govern themselves for fifty years; but
if you put the question to an enlightened American, and ask him, "Were
Washington to rise from his grave, would he recognise the present
government of America as the one bequeathed to them?" and the American
will himself answer in the negative.  These fifty years have afforded
another proof, were it necessary, how short-sighted and fallible are
men--how impossible it is to keep anything in a state of perfection here
below.  Washington left America as an infant nation, a pure and, I may
add, a virtuous republic; but the government of the country has
undergone as much change as everything else, and it has now settled down
into anything but a pure democracy.  Nor could it be otherwise; a
republic may be formed and may continue in healthy existence when
regulated by a small body of men, but as men increase and multiply so do
they deteriorate; the closer they are packed the more vicious they
become, and, consequently, the more vicious become their institutions.
Washington and his coadjutors had no power to control the nature of man.

It may be inquired by some, what difference there is between a republic
and a democracy, as the terms have been, and are often, used
indifferently.  I know not whether my distinction is right, but I
consider that when those possessed of most talent and wisdom are
selected to act for the benefit of a people, with full reliance upon
their acting for the best, and without any shackle or pledge being
enforced, we may consider that form of government as a republic ruled by
the most enlightened and capable; but that if, on the contrary, those
selected by the people to represent them are not only bound by the
pledges previous to their election, but ordered by the mass how to vote
after their election, then the country, is not ruled by the collected
wisdom of the people, but by the majority, who are as often wrong as
right, and then the governing principle sinks into a democracy, as it
now is in America.  [Note 3.]

It is singular to remark, notwithstanding her monarchical form of
government, how much more republican England is in her institutions than
America.  Ask an American what he considers the necessary qualifications
of a president, and, after intellectual qualification, he will tell you
firmness, decision, and undaunted courage; and it is really an enigma to
him, although he will not acknowledge it, how the sceptre of a country
like England, subject to the monarchical sway which he detests, can be
held in the hand of a young female of eighteen years of age.

But upon one point I have made up my mind, which is that, with all its
imperfections, democracy is the form of government _best suited to the
present condition of America_, in so far as it is the one under which
the country has made, and will continue to make, the most rapid
advances.  That it must eventually be changed is true, but the times of
its change must be determined by so many events, hidden in futurity,
which may accelerate or retard the convulsion, that it would be
presumptuous for any one to attempt to name a period when the present
form of government shall be broken up, and the multitude shall separate
and re-embody themselves under new institutions.

In the arrangement of this work, I have considered it advisable to
present, first, to the reader those _portions_ of my diary which may be
interesting, and in which are recorded traits and incidents which will
bear strongly upon the commentaries I shall subsequently make upon the
institutions of the United States, and the results of those institutions
as developed in the American character.  Having been preceded by so many
writers on America, I must occasionally tread in well-beaten tracts;
but, although I shall avoid repetition as much as possible, this will
not prevent me from describing what I saw or felt.  Different ideas, and
different associations of ideas, will strike different travellers, as
the same landscape may wear a new appearance, according as it is viewed
in the morning, by noon, or at night; the outlines remain the same, but
the lights, and shadows, and tints, are reflected from the varying
idiosyncrasy of various minds.

My readers will also find many quotations, either embodied in the work
or supplied by notes.  This I have considered necessary, that my
opinions may be corroborated; but these quotations will not be extracted
so much from the works of English as from _American_ writers.  The
opinions relative to the United States have been so conflicting in the
many works which have been written, that I consider it most important
that I should be able to quote American authorities against themselves,
and strengthen my opinions and arguments by their own admissions.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  _Paragraph from a New York paper_.  That old, deaf English
maiden lady, Miss Martineau, who travelled through some of the states, a
few years since, gives a full account of Mr Poindexter's death;
unfortunately for her veracity, the gentleman still lives; but this is
about as near the truth as the majority of her statements.  The
_loafing_ English men and women who visit America, as penny-a-liners,
are perfectly understood here, and Jonathan amuses himself whenever he
meets them, by imposing upon their credulity the most absurd stories
which he can invent, which they swallow whole, go home with their eyes
sticking out of their heads with wonder, and print all they have heard
for the benefit of John Bull's calves.

Note 2.  The clocks in America--there rendered so famous by Sam Slick--
instead of the moral lessons inculcated by the dials in this country,
such as "Time flies," etcetera, teach one more suited to American
feeling:--"Time is money!"

Note 3.  And in this opinion I find that I am borne out by an American
writer, who says--"It is true, indeed, that the American government,
which, as first set up, was properly republican--that is, representation
in a course of salutary degrees, and with salutary checks upon the
popular will, on the powers of legislation, of the executive, and the
judiciary,--was assailed at an early period of its history, and has been
assailed continuously down to the present time, by a power called
democracy, and that this power has been constantly acquiring influence
and gaining ascendency in the republic during the term of its
history."--(_A Voice from America to England_, by an American Gentleman,
page 10.)



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER ONE.

I like to begin at the beginning; it's a good old fashion, not
sufficiently adhered to in these modern times.  I recollect a young
gentleman who said he was thinking of going to America; on my asking
him, "how he intended to go?" he replied, "I don't exactly know; but I
think I shall take the fast coach."  I wished him a safe passage, and
said, "I was afraid he would find it very dusty."  As I could not find
the office to book myself by this young gentleman's conveyance, I walked
down to St Katherine's Docks; went on board a packet; was shewn into a
superb cabin, fitted up with bird's-eye maple, mahogany, and
looking-glasses, and communicating with certain small cabins, where
there was a sleeping berth for each passenger, about as big as that
allowed to a pointer in a dog-kennel.  I thought that there was more
finery than comfort; but it ended in my promising the captain to meet
him at Portsmouth.  He was to sail from London on the 1st of April, and
I did not choose to sail on that day--it was ominous; so I embarked at
Portsmouth on the 3rd.  It is not my intention to give a description of
crossing the Atlantic; but as the reader may be disappointed if I do not
tell him how I got over, I shall first inform him that we were
thirty-eight in the cabin, and 160 men, women, and children, literally
stowed in bulk in the steerage.  I shall describe what took place from
the time I first went up the side at Spithead, until the ship was under
weigh, and then make a very short passage of it.

At 9:30 a.m.--Embarked on board the good ship Quebec; and a good ship
she proved to be, repeatedly going nine and a-half knots on a bowling,
sails lifting.  Captain H---quite delighted to see me--all captains of
packets are to see passengers: I believed him when he said so.

At 9:50.--Sheriff's officer, as usual, came on board.  Observed several
of the cabin passengers hasten down below, and one who requested the
captain to stow him away.  But it was not a pen-and-ink affair; it was a
case of burglary.  The officer has found his man in the steerage--the
handcuffs are on his wrists, and they are rowing him ashore.  His wife
and two children are on board; her lips quiver as she collects her
baggage to follow her husband.  One half-hour more, and he would have
escaped from justice, and probably have led a better life in a far
country, where his crimes were unknown.  By the bye, Greenacre, the man
who cut the woman up, was taken out of the ship as she went down the
river: he had very nearly escaped.  What cargoes of crime, folly, and
recklessness do we yearly ship off to America!  America ought to be very
much obliged to us.

The women of the steerage are persuading the wife of the burglar not to
go on shore; their arguments are strong, but not strong enough against
the devoted love of a woman.--"Your husband is certain to be hung;
what's the use of following him?  Your passage is paid, and you will
have no difficulty in supporting your children in America."  But she
rejects the advice--goes down the side, and presses her children to her
breast, as, overcome with the agony of her feelings, she drops into the
boat; and, now that she is away from the ship, you hear the sobs, which
can no longer be controlled.

10 a.m.--"All hands up anchor."

I was repeating to myself some of the stanzas of Mrs Norton's "Here's a
Health to the Outward-bound," when I cast my eyes forward.

I could not imagine what the seamen were about; they appeared to be
_pumping_, instead of heaving, at the windlass.  I forced my way through
the heterogeneous mixture of human beings, animals, and baggage which
crowded the decks, and discovered that they were working a patent
windlass, by Dobbinson--a very ingenious and superior invention.  The
seamen, as usual, lightened their labour with the song and chorus,
forbidden by the etiquette of a man-of-war.  The one they sung was
peculiarly musical, although not refined; and the chorus of "Oh!  Sally
Brown," was given with great emphasis by the whole crew between every
line of the song, sung by an athletic young third mate.  I took my seat
on the knight-heads--turned my face aft--looked and listened.

"Heave away there, forward."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"`Sally Brown--oh! my dear Sally.'" (Single voice).

"`Oh!  Sally Brown.'" (Chorus).

"`Sally Brown, of Buble Al-ly.'" (Single voice).

"`Oh!  Sal-ly Brown,'" (Chorus).

"Avast heaving there; send all aft to clear the boat."

"Aye, aye, sir.  Where are we to stow these casks, Mr Fisher?"

"Stow them!  Heaven knows; get them in, at all events."

"Captain H---!  Captain H---! there's my piano still on deck; it will be
quite spoiled--indeed it will."

"Don't be alarmed, ma'am; as soon as we're under weigh we'll hoist the
cow up, and get the piano down."

"What! under the cow?"

"No, ma'am; but the cow's over the hatchway."

"Now, then, my lads, forward to the windlass."

"`I went to town to get some toddy.'"

"`Oh!  Sally Brown.'"

"`T'wasn't fit for any body.'"

"`Oh!  Sally Brown.'"

"Out there, and clear away the jib."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Mr Fisher, how much cable is there out?"

"Plenty yet, sir.--Heave away, my lads."

"`Sally is a bright mulattar.'"

"`Oh!  Sally Brown.'"

"`Pretty girl, but can't get at her.'"

"Avast heaving; send the men aft to whip the ladies in.--Now, miss, only
sit down and don't be afraid, and you'll be in, in no time.--Whip away,
my lads, handsomely; steady her with the guy; lower away.--There, miss,
now you're safely _landed_."

"Landed am I?  I thought I was _shipped_."

"Very good, indeed--very good, miss; you'll make an excellent sailor, I
see."

"I should make a better sailor's _wife_, I expect, Captain H---."

"Excellent!  Allow me to hand you aft; you'll excuse me.--Forward now,
my men; heave away!"

"`Seven years I courted Sally.'"

"`Oh!  Sally Brown.'"

"`Seven more of shilley-shally.'"

"`Oh!  Sally Brown.'"

"`She won't wed--'"

"Avast heaving.  Up there, and loose the topsails; stretch along the
topsail-sheets.--Upon my soul, half these children will be killed.--
Whose child are you?"

"I--don't--know."

"Go and find out, that's a dear.--Let fall; sheet home; belay starboard
sheet; clap on the larboard; belay all that.--Now, then, Mr Fisher."

"Aye, aye, sir.--Heave away, my lads."

"`She won't wed a Yankee sailor.'"

"`Oh!  Sally Brown.'"

"`For she's in love with the nigger tailor.'"

"`Oh!  Sally Brown.'"

"Heave away, my men; heave, and in sight.  Hurrah! my lads."

"`Sally Brown--oh! my dear Sally!'"

"`Oh!  Sally Brown!'"

"`Sally Brown, of Buble Alley.'"

"`Oh!  Sally Brown.'"

"`Sally has a cross old granny.'"

"`Oh--!'"

"Heave and fall--jib-halyards--hoist away."

"Oh! dear--oh! dear."

"The clumsy brute has half-killed the girl!--Don't cry, my dear."

"Pick up the child, Tom, and shove it out of the way."

"Where shall I put her?"

"Oh, any where just now; put her on the turkey-coop."

"Starboard!"

"I say, clap on, some of you _he_ chaps, or else get out of the way."

"Sailor, mind my band-box."

"Starboard!"

"Starboard it is; steady so."

Thus, with the trifling matter of maiming half-a-dozen children,
upsetting two or three women, smashing the lids of a few trunks, and
crushing some band-boxes as flat as a muffin, the good ship Quebec was
at last fairly under weigh, and standing out for St Helen's.

3 p.m.--Off St Helen's; ship steady; little wind; water smooth;
passengers sure they won't be sick.

3:20.--Apologies from the captain for a cold dinner on this day.

4 o'clock.--Dinner over; every body pulls out a number of "Pickwick;"
every body talks and reads Pickwick; weather getting up squally;
passengers not quite so sure they won't be seasick.

Who can tell what the morrow may bring forth?  It brought forth a heavy
sea, and the passengers were quite sure that they were seasick.  Only
six out of thirty-eight made their appearance at the breakfast-table;
and, for many days afterwards, there were Pickwicks in plenty strewed
all over the cabin, but passengers were very scarce.

But we had more than sea-sickness to contend with--the influenza broke
out and raged.  Does not this prove that it is contagious, and not
dependant on the atmosphere?  It was hard, after having sniffled with it
for six weeks on shore, that I should have another month of it on board.
But who can control destiny?  The ship was like a hospital; an elderly
woman was the first victim--then a boy of twelve years of age.
Fortunately, there were no more deaths.

But I have said enough of the passage.  On the 4th of May, in the year
of our Lord 1837, I found myself walking up Broadway, among the free and
enlightened citizens of New York.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER TWO.

A visit, to make it agreeable to both parties, should be well timed.  My
appearance at New York was very much like bursting into a friend's house
with a merry face when there is a death in it--with the sudden change
from levity to condolence.  "Any other time most happy to see you.  You
find us in a very unfortunate situation."

"Indeed I'm very--very sorry."

Two hundred and sixty houses have already failed, and no one knows where
it is to end.  Suspicion, fear, and misfortune have taken possession of
the city.  Had I not been aware of the cause, I should have imagined
that the plague was raging, and I had the description of Defoe before
me.

Not a smile on one countenance among the crowd who pass and repass;
hurried steps, careworn faces, rapid exchanges of salutation, or hasty
communication of anticipated ruin before the sun goes down.  Here two or
three are gathered on one side, whispering and watching that they are
not overheard; there a solitary, with his arms folded and his hat
slouched, brooding over departed affluence.  Mechanics, thrown out of
employment, are pacing up and down with the air of famished wolves.  The
violent shock has been communicated, like that of electricity, through
the country to a distance of hundreds of miles.  Canals, railroads, and
all public works, have been discontinued, and the Irish emigrant leans
against his shanty, with his spade idle in his hand, and starves, as his
thoughts wander back to his own Emerald Isle.

The Americans delight in the hyperbole; in fact they hardly have a
metaphor without it.  During this crash, when every day fifteen or
twenty merchants' names appeared in the newspapers as bankrupts, one
party, not in a very good humour, was hastening down Broadway, when he
was run against by another whose temper was equally unamiable.  This
collision roused the choler of both.

"What the devil do you mean, sir?" cried one; "I've a great mind to
knock you into _the middle of next week_."

This occurring on a Saturday, the wrath of the other was checked by the
recollection of how very favourable such a blow would be to his present
circumstances.

"Will you! by heavens, then pray do; it's just the thing I want, for how
else I am to get over next Monday and the acceptances I must take up, is
more than I can tell."

All the banks have stopped payment in specie, and there is not a dollar
to be had.  I walked down Wall Street, and had a convincing proof of the
great demand for money, for somebody picked my pocket.

The militia are under arms, as riots are expected.  The banks in the
country and other towns have followed the example of New York, and thus
has General Jackson's currency bill been repealed without the aid of
Congress.  Affairs are now at their worst, and now that such is the
case, the New Yorkers appear to recover their spirits.  One of the
newspapers humorously observes--"All Broadway is like unto a new-made
widow, and don't know whether to laugh or cry."  There certainly is a
very remarkable energy in the American disposition; if they fall, they
bound up again.  Somebody has observed that the New York merchants are
of that _elastic_ nature, that, when fit for nothing else, they might be
converted into _coach springs_, and such really appears to be their
character.

Nobody refuses to take the paper of the New York banks, although they
virtually have stopped payment;--they never refuse anything in New
York;--but nobody will give specie in change, and great distress is
occasioned by this want of a circulating medium.  Some of the
shopkeepers told me that they had been obliged to turn away a hundred
dollars a-day, and many a Southerner, who has come up with a large
supply of southern notes, has found himself a pauper, and has been
indebted to a friend for a few dollars in specie to get home again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The radicals here, for there are radicals, it appears, in a democracy--

  "In the lowest depth, a lower deep--"

are very loud in their complaints.  I was watching the swarming
multitude in Wall Street this morning, when one of these fellows was
declaiming against the banks for stopping specie payments, and "robbing
a poor man in such a _w_illanous manner," when one of the merchants, who
appeared to know his customer, said to him--"Well, as you say, it is
hard for a poor fellow like you not to be able to get dollars for his
notes; hand them out, and I'll give you specie for them myself!"  The
blackguard had not a cent in his pocket, and walked away looking very
foolish.  He reminded me of a little chimney-sweeper at the Tower
Hamlets election, asking--"Vot vos my hopinions about primaginitur?"--a
very important point to him certainly, he having no parents, and having
been brought up by the parish.

I was in a store when a thorough-bred democrat walked in: he talked
loud, and voluntarily gave it as his opinion that all this distress was
the very best thing that could have happened to the country, as America
would now keep all the specie and pay her English creditors with
bankruptcies.  There always appears to me to be a great want of moral
principle in all radicals; indeed, the levelling principles of
radicalism are adverse to the sacred rights of _meum et tuum_.  At
Philadelphia the ultra-democrats have held a large public meeting, at
which one of the first resolutions brought forward and agreed to
was--"That they did not owe one farthing to the English people."

"They may say the times are bad," said a young American to me, "but I
think that they are excellent.  A twenty dollar note used to last me but
a week, but now it is as good as Fortunatus's purse, which was never
empty.  I eat my dinner at the hotel, and show them my twenty dollar
note.  The landlord turns away from it, as if it were the head of
Medusa, and begs that I will pay another time.  I buy every thing that I
want, and I have only to offer my twenty dollar note in payment, and my
credit is unbounded--that is, for any sum under twenty dollars.  If they
ever do give change again in New York it will make a very unfortunate
change in my affairs."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

A government circular, enforcing the act of Congress, which obliges all
those who have to pay custom-house duties or postage to do so in specie,
has created great dissatisfaction, and added much to the distress and
difficulty.  At the same time that they (the government) refuse to take
from their debtors the notes of the banks, upon the ground that they are
no longer legal tenders, they compel their creditors to take those very
notes--having had a large quantity in their possession at the time that
the banks suspended specie payments--an act of despotism which the
English Government would not venture upon.

Miss Martineau's work is before me.  How dangerous it is to prophecy.
Speaking of the merchants of New York, and their recovering after the
heavy losses they sustained by the calamitous fire of 1835, she says,
that although eighteen millions of property were destroyed, not one
merchant failed; and she continues, "It seems now as if the commercial
credit of New York could stand any shock short of an earthquake like
that of Lisbon."  That was the prophecy of 1836.  Where is the
commercial credit of New York now in 1837?!!!

The distress for change has produced a curious remedy.  Every man is now
his own banker.  Go to the theatres and places of public amusement, and,
instead of change, you receive an IOU from the treasury.  At the hotels
and oyster-cellars it is the same thing.  Call for a glass of brandy and
water and the change is fifteen tickets, each "good for one glass of
brandy and water."  At an oyster-shop, eat a plate of oysters, and you
have in return seven tickets, good for one plate of oysters each.  It is
the same every where.--The barbers give you tickets, good for so many
shaves; and were there beggars in the streets, I presume they would give
you tickets in change, good for so much philanthropy.  Dealers, in
general, give out their own bank-notes, or as they are called here,
_shin plasters_, which are good for one dollar, and from that down to
two and a-half cents, all of which are redeemable, and redeemable only
upon a general return to cash payments.

Hence arises another variety of exchange in Wall Street.

"Tom, do you want any oysters for lunch to-day?"

"Yes!"

"Then here's a ticket, and give me two _shaves_ in return."

The most prominent causes of this convulsion have already been laid
before the English public; but there is one--that of speculating in
land--which has not been sufficiently dwelt upon, nor has the importance
been given to it which it deserves; as, perhaps, next to the losses
occasioned by the great fire, it led, more than any other species of
over-speculation and over-trading, to the distress which has ensued.
Not but that the event must have taken place in the natural course of
things.  Cash payments produce sure but small returns; but no commerce
can be carried on by this means on any extended scale.  Credit, as long
as it is good, is so much extra capital, in itself nominal and
non-existent, but producing real returns.  If any one will look back
upon the commercial history of these last fifty years, he will perceive
that the system of credit is always attended with a periodical _blow
up_; in England, perhaps, once in twenty years; in America, once in from
seven to ten.  This arises from their being no safety valve--no check
which can be put to it by mutual consent of all parties.  One house
extends its credit, and for a time, its profits; another follows the
example.  The facility of credit induces those who obtain it to embark
in other speculations, foreign to their business; for credit thus
becomes extra capital which they do not know how to employ.  Such has
been the case in the present instance: but this is no reason for the
credit system not being continued.  These occasional explosions act as
warnings, and, for the time, people are more cautious: they stop for a
while to repair damages, and recover from their consternation; and when
they go a-head again, it is not quite so fast.  The loss is severely
felt, because people are not prepared to meet it; but if all the profits
of the years of healthy credit were added up, and the balance sheet
struck between that and the loss at the explosion, the advantage gained
by the credit system would still be found to be great.  The advancement
of America depends wholly upon it.  It is by credit alone that she has
made such rapid strides, and it is by credit alone that she can continue
to flourish, at the same time that she enriches those who trade with
her.  In this latter crisis there was more blame to be attached to the
English houses, who _forced_ their credit upon the Americans, than to
the Americans, who, having such unlimited credit, thought that they
might advantageously speculate with the capital of others.

One of the most singular affections of the human mind is a proneness to
excessive speculation; and it may here be noticed that the disease for
(such it may be termed) is peculiarly English and American.  Men, in
their race for gain, appear, like horses that have run away, to have
been blinded by the rapidity of their own motion.  It almost amounts to
an epidemic, and is infectious--the wise and the foolish being equally
liable to the disease.  We had ample evidence of this in the bubble
manias which took place in England in the years 1825 and 1826.  A mania
of this kind had infected the people of America for two or three years
previous to the crash: it was that of speculating in land; and to show
the extent to which it had been carried on, we may take the following
examples:--

The city of New York, which is built upon a narrow island about ten
miles in length, at present covers about three miles of that distance,
and has a population of three hundred thousand inhabitants.  Building
lots were marked out for the other seven miles; and, by calculation,
these lots when built upon, would contain an additional population of
one million and three-quarters.  They were first purchased at from one
hundred to one hundred and fifty dollars each, but, as the epidemic
raged, they rose to upwards of two thousand dollars.  At Brooklyn, on
Long Island, opposite to New York, and about half a mile distant from
it, lots were marked out to the extent of fourteen miles, which would
contain an extra population of one million, and these were as eagerly
speculated in.

At Staten Island, at the entrance into the Sound, an estate was
purchased by some speculators for ten thousand dollars, was divided into
lots, and planned as a town to be called New Brighton; and had the whole
of the lots been sold at the price for which many were, previous to the
crash, the original speculators would have realised three million of
dollars.  But the infatuation was not confined to the precincts of New
York: every where it existed.  Government lands, which could only be
paid for in specie, were eagerly sought after; plans of new towns were
puffed up; drawings made, in which every street was laid down and named;
churches, theatres, hospitals, rail-road communications, canals,
steam-boats in the offing, all appeared on paper as if actually in
existence, when, in fact, the very site was as yet a forest, with not a
log hut within a mile of the pretended city.  Lots in these visionary
cities were eagerly purchased, increased daily in value, and afforded a
fine harvest to those who took advantage of the credulity of others.
One man would buy a lot with extensive _water privileges_, and, upon
going to examine it, would find those privileges rather too extensive,
the whole lot being _under water_.  Even after the crisis, there was a
man still going about who made a good livelihood by setting up his plan
of a city, the lots of which he sold by public auction, on condition of
one dollar being paid down to secure the purchase, if approved of.  The
mania had not yet subsided, and many paid down their dollar upon their
purchase of a lot.  This was all he required.  He went to the next town,
and sold the same lots over and over again.

To check this madness of speculation, was one reason why an act of
Congress was passed, obliging all purchasers of government lands to pay
in specie.  Nevertheless, government received nine or ten millions in
specie after the bill passed.  Now, when it is considered what a large
portion of the capital drawn from England was applied to these wild
speculations--sums which, when they were required, could not be
realised, as, when the crisis occurred, property thus purchased
immediately fell to about one-tenth of what was paid for it--it will be
clearly seen that, from this unfortunate mania, a great portion of the
present distress must have arisen.

The attempt of General Jackson and his successors, to introduce a specie
currency into a country which exists upon credit, was an act of folly,
and has ended in complete failure.  [See note 1.] A few weeks after he
had issued from the Mint a large coinage of gold, there was hardly an
eagle to be seen, and the metal might almost as well have remained in
the mine from whence it had been extracted.  It was still in the
country, but had all been absorbed by the agriculturists; and such will
ever be the case in a widely extended agricultural country.  The
farmers, principally Dutch, live upon a portion of their produce and
sell the rest.  Formerly they were content with bank bills or Mexican
dollars, which they laid by for a rainy day, and they remained locked up
for years before they were required.  When the gold was issued, it was
eagerly collected by these people, as more convenient, and laid by, by
the farmers' wives, in the foot of an old worsted stocking, where the
major part of it will remain.  And thus has the famous gold-currency
bill been upset by the hoarding propensities of a parcel of old women.
[See note 2.]

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  One single proof may be given of the ruinous policy of the
Jackson administration in temporising with the credit of the country.
To check the export of bullion from our country, the Bank of England had
but one remedy, that of rendering money scarce: they contracted their
issues, and it became so.  The consequence was, that the price of cotton
fell forty dollars per bale.  The crop of cotton amounted to 1,600,000
bales, which, at forty dollars per bale, was a loss to the southern
planters of 64,000,000 of dollars.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 2.  A curious proof of this system of hoarding, which immediately
took place upon the bank stopping payment, was told me by a gentleman
from Baltimore.  He went into a store to purchase, as he often had done,
a canvas shot-bag, and to his surprise was asked three times the former
price for it.  Upon his expostulating, the vendors told him, that the
demand for them by the farmers and other people who brought their
produce to market, and who used them to put their specie in, was so
great, that they could hardly supply them.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER THREE.

Fifty years ago, New York was little more than a village; now, it is a
fine city with three hundred thousand inhabitants.  I have never seen
any city so admirably adapted for commerce.  It is built upon a narrow
island, between Long Island Sound and the Hudson River, Broadway running
up it like the vertebrae of some huge animal, and the other streets
diverging from it at right angles, like the ribs; each street running to
the river, and presenting to the view a forest of masts.

There are some fine buildings in this city, but not many.  Astor House,
although of simple architecture, is, perhaps, the grandest mass; and
next to that, is the City Hall, though in architecture very indifferent.
In the large room of the latter are some interesting pictures and busts
of the presidents, mayors of the city, and naval and military officers,
who have received the thanks of Congress and the freedom of the city.
Some are very fair specimens of art: the most spirited is that of
Commodore Perry, leaving his sinking vessel, in the combat on the Lakes,
to hoist his flag on board of another ship.  Decatur's portrait is also
very fine.  Pity that such a man should have been sacrificed in a
foolish duel!

At the corner of many of the squares, or _blocks_ of buildings, as they
are termed here, is erected a very high mast, with a cap of liberty upon
the top.  The only idea we have of the cap of liberty is, the _bonnet
rouge_ of the French; but the Americans will not copy the French,
although they will the English; so they have a cap of their own, which
(begging their pardon), with its gaudy colours and gilding, looks more
like a _fool's cap_ than any thing else.

New York is not equal to London, nor Broadway to Regent Street, although
the Americans would compare them.  Still, New York is very superior to
most of our provincial towns, and, to a man who can exist out of London,
Broadway will do very well for a lounge--being wide, three miles long,
and the upper part composed of very handsome houses; besides which, it
may almost challenge Regent Street for pretty faces, except on Sundays.
[On Sundays the coloured population take possession of Broadway.] Many
of the shops, or _stores_, as they are here called, (for in this land of
equality nobody keeps a shop), have already been fitted up with large
plate-glass fronts, similar to those in London, and but for the
depression which has taken place, many more would have followed the
example.

Among the few discrepancies observable between this city and London, are
the undertakers' _shops_.  In England they are all wooden windows below
and scutcheons above; planks and shavings within--in fact, mere
workshops.  Here they are different: they have large glass fronts, like
a millinery or cut-glass shop with us, and the shop runs back thirty or
forty feet, its sides being filled with coffins standing on end,
mahogany and French polished.  Therein you may select as you please,
from the seven feet to receive the well-grown adult, to the tiny
receptacle of what Burns calls, "Wee unchristened babe."  I have,
however, never heard of any one choosing their own coffin; they
generally leave it to their relatives to perform that office.

I may here remark, that the Americans are sensible enough not to throw
away so much money in funerals as we do; still it appears strange to an
Englishman to see the open hearse containing the body, drawn by only one
horse, while the carriages which follow are drawn by two: to be sure,
the carriages generally contain six individuals, while the hearse is a
sulky, and carries but one.

The New York tradesmen do all they can, as the English do, to attract
the notice of the public by hand-bills, placards, advertisements,
etcetera; but in one point they have gone a-head of us.  Placards,
etcetera, may be read by those who look upwards or straight-forward, or
to the right or to the left; but there are some people who walk with
their eyes to the ground, and consequently see nothing.  The New Yorkers
have provided for this contingency, by having large marble tablets, like
horizontal tomb-stones, let into the flag pavements of the _trottoir_ in
front of their shops, on which is engraven in duplicate, turning both
ways, their names and business; so, whether you walk up or down
Broadway, if you cast your eyes downwards so as not to see the placards
above, you cannot help reading the inscriptions below.

Every traveller who has visited this city has spoken of the numerous
fires which take place in it, and the constant running, scampering,
hallooing, and trumpeting of the firemen with their engines; but I do
not observe that any one has attempted to investigate the causes which
produce, generally speaking, three or four fires in the twenty-four
hours.  New York has certainly great capabilities, and every chance of
improvement as a city; for, about one house in twenty is burnt down
every year, and is always rebuilt in a superior manner.  But, as to the
causes, I have, after minute inquiry, discovered as follows.  These
fires are occasioned--

1st.  By the notorious carelessness of black servants, and the custom of
smoking cigars all the day long.

2nd.  By the knavery of men without capitol, who insure to double and
treble the value of their stock, and realise an honest penny by setting
fire to their stores.  (This is one reason why you can seldom recover
from a fire-office without litigation.)

3rd.  From the hasty and unsubstantial way in which houses are built up,
the rafters and beams often communicating with the flues of the
chimneys.

4th.  Conflagrations of houses not insured, effected by agents employed
by the _fire-insurance companies_, as a punishment to some, and a
warning to others, who have neglected to take out policies.

These were gravely stated to me as the causes of so many fires in New
York.  I cannot vouch for the truth of the last, although I feel bound
to mention it.  I happen to be lodged opposite to two fire-engine
houses, so that I always know when there is a fire.  Indeed, so does
every body; for the church nearest to it tolls its bell, and this
tolling is repeated by all the others; and as there are more than three
hundred churches in New York, if a fire takes place no one can say that
he is not aware of it.

The duty of firemen is admirably performed by the young men of the city,
who have privileges for a servitude of seven years; but they pay too
dearly for their privileges, which are an exemption from militia and
jury summons.  Many of them are taken off by consumptions, fevers, and
severe catarrhs, engendered by the severe trials to which they are
exposed: the sudden transitions from extreme heat to extreme cold in
winter, being summoned up from a warm bed, when the thermometer is below
zero--then exposed to the scorching flames--and afterwards (as I have
frequently seen them myself), with the water hanging in icicles upon
their saturated clothes.  To recruit themselves after their fatigue and
exhaustion they are compelled to drink, and thus it is no wonder that
their constitutions are undermined.  It is nevertheless a favourite
service, as the young men have an opportunity of shewing courage and
determination, which raises them high in the opinion of their brother
citizens.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I made a purchase at a store; an intelligent looking little boy brought
it home for me.  As he walked by my side, he amused me very much by
putting the following questions:--

"Pray, captain, has Mr Easy left the King of England's service?"

"I think he has," replied I; "if you recollect, he married and went on
shore."

"Have you seen Mr Japhet lately?" was the next query.

"Not very lately," replied I; "the last time I saw him was at the
publisher's."

The little fellow went away, perfectly satisfied that they were both
alive and well.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER FOUR.

The dogs are all tied up, and the mosquitos have broke loose--it is high
time to leave New York.

The American steam-boats have been often described.  When I first saw
one of the largest sweep round the battery, with her two decks, the
upper one screened with snow-white awnings--the gay dresses of the
ladies--the variety of colours--it reminded me of a floating garden, and
I fancied that Isola Bella, on the Lake of Como, had got under weigh,
and made the first steam voyage to America.

The Hudson is a noble stream, flowing rapidly through its bold and deep
bed.  Already it has many associations connected with it--a great many
for the time which has elapsed since Henrick Hudson first explored it.
Where is the race of red men who hunted on its banks, or fished and
paddled their canoes in its stream?  They have disappeared from the
earth, and scarce a vestige remains of them, except in history.  No
portion of this world was ever intended to remain for ages untenanted.
Beasts of prey and noxious reptiles are permitted to exist in the wild
and uninhabited regions until they are swept away by the broad stream of
civilisation, which, as it pours along, drives them from hold to hold,
until they finally disappear.  So it is with the more savage nations:
they are but _tenants at will_, and never were intended to remain longer
than till the time when Civilisation, with the Gospel, Arts, and
Sciences, in her train, should appear, and claim as her own that portion
of the universe which they occupy.

About thirty miles above New York is Tarry Town, the abode of Washington
Irving, who has here embosomed himself in his own region of romance; for
Sleepy Hollow lies behind his domicile.  Nearly opposite to it, is the
site of a mournful reality--the spot where poor Major Andre was hung up
as a spy.

You pass the State prison, built on a spot which still retains its
Indian name--Sing Sing--rather an odd name for a prison, where people
are condemned to perpetual silence.  It is a fine building of white
marble, like a palace--very appropriate for that portion of the
_sovereign_ people, who may qualify themselves for a residence in it.

I had a genuine Yankee story from one of the party on deck.  I was
enquiring if the Hudson was frozen up or not during the winter?  This
led to a conversation as to the severity of the winter, when one man, by
way of proving how cold it was, said--"Why; I had a cow on my lot up the
river, and last winter she got in among the ice, and was carried down
three miles before we could get her out again.  The consequence has been
that she has milked nothing but _ice-creams_ ever since."

When you have ascended about fifty miles, the bed of the river becomes
contracted and deeper, and it pours its waters rapidly through the high
lands on each side, having at some distant time forced its passage
through a chain of rocky mountains.  It was quite dark long before we
arrived at West Point, which I had embarked to visit.  A storm hung over
us, and as we passed through the broad masses piled up on each side of
the river, at one moment illuminated by the lightning as it burst from
the opaque clouds, and the next towering in sullen gloom, the effect was
sublime.

Here I am at West Point.

West Point is famous in the short history of this country.  It is the
key of the Hudson river.  The traitor Arnold had agreed to deliver it up
to the English, and it was on his return from arranging the terms with
Arnold, that Andre was captured and hung.

At present, a Military College is established here, which turns out
about forty officers every year.  Although they receive commissions in
any regiment of the American army when there may be vacancies, they are
all educated as engineers.  The democrats have made several attempts to
break up this establishment, as savouring too much of _monarchy_, but
hitherto have been unsuccessful.  It would be a pity if they did
succeed, for such has been the demand lately for engineers to
superintend railroads and canals, that a large portion of them have
resigned their commissions, and found employment in the different
States.  This consideration alone is quite sufficient to warrant the
keeping up of the college, for civil engineers are a _sine qua non_ in a
country like America, and they are always ready to serve should their
military services be required.  There was an inspection at the time that
I was there, and it certainly was highly creditable to the students; as
well as to those who superintend the various departments.

When I awoke the next morning, I threw open the blinds of my windows,
which looked out upon the river, and really was surprised and delighted.
A more beautiful view I never gazed upon.  The Rhine was fresh in my
memory; but, although the general features of the two rivers are not
dissimilar, there is no one portion of the Rhine which can be compared
to the Hudson at West Point.  It was what you may imagine the Rhine to
have been in the days of Caesar, when the lofty mountains through which
it sweeps were not bared and naked as they now are, but clothed with
forests, and rich in all the variety and beauty of undisturbed nature.

There is a sweet little spot not far from the college, where a tomb has
been erected in honour of Kosciuscko--it is called Kosciuscko's Garden.
I often sat there and talked over the events of the War of Independence.
Many anecdotes were narrated to me, some of them very original.  I will
mention one or two which have not escaped my memory.

One of the officers who most distinguished himself in the struggle was a
General Starke; and the following is the speech he is reported to have
made to his men previous to an engagement:--

"Now, my men,--you see them ere Belgians; every man of them bought by
the king of England at 17s. 6d. a-head, and I've a notion he'd paid too
dear for them.  Now, my men, we either beats them this day, or Molly
Starke's a widow, by G---d."  He did beat them, and in his despatch to
head-quarters he wrote--"We've had a dreadful hot day of it, General;
and I've lost my horse, saddle and bridle and all."

In those times, losing a _saddle_ and _bridle_ was as bad as losing a
horse.

At the same affair, the captain commanding the outposts was very lame,
and he thought proper thus to address his men:--

"Now, my lads, you see we're only an outpost, and we are not expected to
beat the whole army in face of us.  The duty of an outpost, when the
enemy comes on, is to go in, _tree_ing it, and keeping ourselves not
exposed.  Now, you have my orders; and as I am a _little lame_, I'll go
in first, and mind you do your duty and come in after me."

I passed several days at this beautiful spot, which is much visited by
the Americans.  Some future day, when America shall have become wealthy,
and New York the abode of affluence and ease, what taste may not be
lavished on the banks of this noble river! and what a lovely retreat
will be West Point, if permitted to remain in all its present wildness
and grandeur!

I re-embarked at midnight in the steam-boat descending from Albany, and
which is fitted out as a night boat.  When I descended into the cabin,
it presented a whimsical sight: two rows of bed-places on each side of
the immense cabin, running right fore and aft; three other rows in the
centre, each of these five rows having three bed-places, one over the
other.  There were upwards of five hundred people, lying in every
variety of posture, and exhibiting every state and degree of repose--
from the loud uneasy snorer lying on his back, to the deep sleeper
tranquil as death.  I walked up and down, through these long ranges of
unconsciousness, thinking how much care was for the time forgotten.  But
as the air below was oppressive, and the moon was beautiful in the
heavens, I went on deck, and watched the swift career of the vessel,
which, with a favouring tide, was flying past the shores at the rate of
twenty miles an hour--one or two people only, out of so many hundreds on
board of her, silently watching over the great principle of locomotion.
The moon sank down, and the sun rose and gilded the verdure of the banks
and the spires of the city of New York, as I revelled in my own thoughts
and enjoyed the luxury of being alone--a double luxury in America, where
the people are gregarious, and would think themselves very ill-bred if
they allowed you one moment for meditation or self-examination.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER FIVE.

Stepped on board of the Narangansett steam-vessel for Providence.  Here
is a fair specimen of American travelling:--From New York to Providence,
by the Long Island Sound, is two hundred miles; and this is
accomplished, under usual circumstances, in thirteen hours: from
Providence to Boston, forty miles by railroad, in two hours--which
makes, from New York to Boston, an average speed of sixteen miles an
hour, stoppages included.

I was, I must confess, rather surprised, when in the railroad cars, to
find that we were passing through a _church-yard_, with tomb-stones on
both sides of us.  In Rhode Island and Massachusetts, where the
pilgrim-fathers first landed--the two States that take pride to
themselves (and with justice) for superior morality and a strict
exercise of religious observances--they look down upon the other States
of the Union, especially New York, and cry out, "I thank thee, Lord,
that I am not as that publican."  Yet here, in Rhode Island, are the
sleepers of the railway laid over the sleepers in death; here do they
grind down the bones of their ancestors for the sake of gain, and
consecrated earth is desecrated by the iron wheels, loaded with
Mammon-seeking mortals.  And this in the puritanical state of Rhode
Island!  Would any engineer have ventured to propose such a line in
England?  I think not.  After all, it is but human nature.  I have run
over the world a long while, and have always observed that people are
very religious so long as religion does not interfere with their
pockets; but, with gold in one hand and godliness in the other, the
tangible is always preferred to the immaterial.  In America everything
is sacrificed to time--for time is money.  The New Yorkers would have
dashed right through the church itself; but then, _they_ are publicans,
and don't _pretend_ to be good.

Boston is a fine city, and, as a commercial one, almost as well situated
as New York.  It has, however, lost a large portion of its commerce,
which the latter has gradually wrested from it, and it must eventually
lose much more.  The population of Boston is about eighty thousand, and
it has probably more people of leisure in it (that is, out of business
and living on their own means) than even Philadelphia; taking into the
estimate the difference between the populations.  They are more learned
and scientific here than at New York, though not more so than at
Philadelphia; but they are more English than in any other city in
America.  The Massachusetts people are very fond of comparing their
country with that of England.  The scenery is not unlike; but it is not
like England in its high state of cultivation.  Stone walls are bad
substitutes for green hedges.  Still, there are some lovely spots in the
environs of Boston.  Mount Auburn, laid out as a Pere la Chaise, is, in
natural beauties, far superior to any other place of the kind.  One
would almost wish to be buried there; and the proprietors, anxious to
have it peopled, offer, by their arrangements as to the price of places
of interment, a handsome premium to those who will soonest die and be
buried--which is certainly a consideration.

Fresh Pond is also a very romantic spot.  It is a lake of about two
hundred acres, whose water is so pure that the ice is transparent as
glass.  Its proprietor clears many thousand dollars a year by the sale
of it.  It is cut out in blocks of three feet square, and supplies most
parts of America down to New Orleans; and every winter latterly two or
three ships have been loaded and sent to Calcutta, by which a very
handsome profit has been realised.

Since I have been here, I have made every enquiry relative to the
sea-serpent which frequents this coast alone.  There are many hundreds
of most respectable people, who, on other points, would be considered as
incapable of falsehood, who declare they have seen the animals, and
vouch for their existence.  It is rather singular that in America there
is but one copy of Bishop Pontoppidon's work on Norway, and in it the
sea-serpent is described, and a rough wood-cut of its appearance given.
In all the American newspapers a drawing was given of the animal as
described by those who saw it, and it proved to be almost a _fac-simile_
of the one described by the Bishop in his work.

Now that we are on marine matters, I must notice the prodigious size of
the lobsters off Boston Coast: they could stow a dozen common English
lobsters under their coats of mail.  My very much respected friend Sir
Isaac Coffin, when he was here, once laid a wager that he would produce
a lobster weighing thirty pounds.  The bet was accepted, and the admiral
despatched people to the proper quarter to procure one: but they were
not then in season, and could not be had.  The admiral, not liking to
lose his money, brought up, instead of the lobster, the affidavits of
certain people that they had often seen lobsters of that size and
weight.  The affidavits of the deponents he submitted to the other
party, and pretended that he had won the wager.  The case was referred
to arbitration, and the admiral was cast with the following pithy reply,
"_Depositions are not lobsters_."

Massachusetts is certainly very English in its scenery, and Boston
essentially English as a city.  The Bostonians assert that they are more
English than we are, that is, that they have strictly adhered to the old
English customs and manners, as handed down to them previous to the
Revolution.  That of sitting a very long while at their wine after
dinner, is one which they certainly adhere to, and which, _I_ think,
would be more honoured in the breach than the observance; but their
hospitality is unbounded, and you do, as an Englishman, feel at home
with them.  I agree with the Bostonians so far, that they certainly
appear to have made no change in their manners and customs for these
last hundred years.  You meet here with frequent specimens of the Old
English Gentleman, descendants of the best old English families who
settled here long before the Revolution, and are now living on their
incomes, with a town house and a country seat to retire to during the
summer season.  The society of Boston is very delightful; it wins upon
you every day, and that is the greatest compliment that can be paid to
it.

Perhaps of all the Americans the Bostonians are the most sensitive to
any illiberal remarks made upon the country, for they consider
themselves, and pride themselves, as being peculiarly English; while, on
the contrary, the majority of the Americans deny that they are English.
There certainly is less intermixture of foreign blood in this city than
in any other in America.  It will appear strange, but so wedded are they
to old customs, even to John Bullism, that it is not more than seven or
eight years that French wines have been put on the Boston tables, and
become in general use in this city.

It is a pity that this feeling towards England is not likely to
continue; indeed, even at this moment it is gradually wearing away.
Self-interest governs the world.  At the declaration of the last war
with England, it was the Northern States which were so opposed to it,
and the Southern who were in favour of it: but now circumstances have
changed; the Northern States, since the advance in prosperity and
increase of produce in the Southern and Western States, feel aware that
it is only as manufacturing states that they can hold their rank with
the others.  Their commerce has decreased since the completion of the
Erie and Ohio canals, and during the war they discovered the advantage
that would accrue to them, as manufacturers, to supply the Southern and
Western markets.  The imports of English goods have nearly ruined them.
They now manufacture nothing but coarse articles, and as you travel
through the Eastern countries, you are surprised to witness splendid
fabrics commenced, but, for want of encouragement, not finished.  This
has changed the interests of the opponent States.  The Southern are very
anxious to remain at peace with England, that their produce may find a
market; while the Northern, on the contrary, would readily consent to a
war, that they might shut out the English manufactures, and have the
supply entirely in their own hands.  The Eastern States (I particularly
refer to Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island) offer a proof of
what can be effected by economy, prudence, and industry.  Except on the
borders of the rivers, the lands are generally sterile, and the climate
is severe, yet, perhaps, the population is more at its ease than in any
other part of the Union; but the produce of the States is not sufficient
for the increasing population, or rather what the population would have
been had it not migrated every year to the West and South.  They set a
higher value upon good connections in these poor States than they do in
others; and if a daughter is to be married, they will ask what family
the suitor is of, and if it bears a good name, they are quite
indifferent as to whether he has a cent or not.  It is remarkable, that
if a man has three or four sons in these States, one will be a lawyer,
another a medical man, another a clergyman, and one will remain at home
to take the property; and thus, out of the proceeds of a farm, perhaps
not containing more than fifty acres, all these young men shall be
properly educated, and in turn sent forth to the West and South, where
they gain an honourable independence, and very often are sent to
Congress as senators and representatives.  Industry and frugality are
the only entailed estate bequeathed from father to son.  Yet this State
alone manufactures to the value of 86,282,616 of dollars in the year.
As a general axiom it may fairly be asserted, that the more sterile the
soil, the more virtuous, industrious, and frugal are the inhabitants;
and it may be added, that such a country sends out more clever and
intelligent men than one that is nominally more blessed by Providence.
The fact is, without frugality and industry the Eastern States could not
exist; they become virtues of necessity, and are the basis of others;
whilst, where there is abundance, vice springs up and idleness takes
deep root.

The population of Massachusetts is by the last returns 701,331 souls.  I
rather think the proportion of women to men is very great.

An energetic and enterprising people are naturally anxious for an
investigation into cause and effect, a search into which is, after all,
nothing but curiosity well directed, and the most curious of all men is
the philosopher.  Curiosity, therefore, becomes a virtue or a small
vice, according to the use made of it.  The Americans are excessively
curious, especially the mob: they cannot bear anything like a secret,--
that's _unconstitutional_.  It may be remembered, that the Catholic
Convent near Boston, which had existed many years, was attacked by the
mob and pulled down.  I was enquiring into the cause of this outrage in
a country where all forms of religion are tolerated; and an American
gentleman told me, that although other reasons had been adduced for it,
he fully believed, in his own mind, that the majority of the mob were
influenced more by _curiosity_ than any other feeling.  The Convent was
_sealed_ to them, and they were determined to know what was in it.
"Why, sir," continued he, "I will lay a wager that if the authorities
were to nail together a dozen planks, and fix them up on the Common,
with a caution to the public that they were not to go near or touch
them, in twenty-four hours a mob would be raised to pull them down and
ascertain what the planks contained."  I mention this conversation, to
shew in what a dexterous manner this American gentleman attempted to
palliate one of the grossest outrages ever committed by his countrymen.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER SIX.

Crossed over to New Jersey, and took the railroad, to view the falls of
the Passaic River, about fifteen miles from New York.  This water-power
has given birth to Patterson, a town with ten thousand inhabitants,
where a variety of manufactures is carried on.  A more beautiful wild
spot can hardly be conceived; and to an European who has been accustomed
to travel far in search of the picturesque, it appears singular that at
so short a distance from a large city, he should at once find himself in
the midst of such a strange combination of nature and art.  Independent
of their beauty, they are, perhaps, the most singular falls that are
known to exist.  The whole country is of trappe formation, and the black
rocks rise up strictly vertical.  The river, which at the Falls is about
one hundred and twenty yards wide, pours over a bed of rock between
hills covered with chestnut, walnut, pine, and sycamore, all mingled
together, and descending to the edge of the bank; their bright and
various foliage forming a lovely contrast to the clear rushing water.
The bed of black rock over which the river runs, is, at the Fall,
suddenly split in two, vertically, and across the whole width of the
river.  The fissure is about seventy feet deep, and not more than twelve
feet wide at any part.  Down into this chasm pour the whole waters of
the river, escaping from it, at a right angle, into a deep basin,
surrounded with perpendicular rocks from eighty to ninety feet high.
You may therefore stand on the opposite side of the chasm, looking up
the river, within a few feet of the Fall, and watch the roaring waters
as they precipitate themselves below.  In this position, with the swift,
clear, but not deep waters before you, forcing their passage through the
rocky bed, with the waving trees on each side, their branches feathering
to the water's edge, or dipping and rising in the stream, you might
imagine yourself far removed from your fellow-men, and you feel that in
such a beauteous spot you could well turn anchorite, and commune with
Nature alone.  But turn round with your back to the Fall--look below,
and all is changed: art in full activity--millions of reels whirling in
their sockets--the bright polished cylinders incessantly turning, and
never tiring.  What formerly was the occupation of thousands of
industrious females, who sat with their distaff at the cottage door, is
now effected in a hundredth part of the time, and in every variety, by
those compressed machines which require but the attendance of one child
to several hundreds.  But machinery cannot perform everything, and
notwithstanding this reduction of labour, the romantic Falls of the
Passaic find employment for the industry of thousands.

We walked up the banks of the river above the Fall, and met with about
twenty or thirty urchins who were bathing at the mouth of the cut, made
for the supply of the water-power to the manufactories below.  The river
is the property of an individual, and is very valuable: he receives six
hundred dollars per annum for one square foot of water-power; ten years
hence it will be rented at a much higher price.

We amused ourselves by throwing small pieces of money into the water,
where it was about a fathom deep, for the boys to dive after; they
gained them too easily; we went to another part in the _cut_, where it
was much deeper, and threw in a dollar.  The boys stood naked on the
rocks, like so many cormorants, waiting to dart upon their prey; when
the dollar had had time to sink to the bottom the word was given--they
all dashed down like lightning and disappeared.  About a minute elapsed
ere there was any sign of their re-appearance, when they came up, one by
one, breathless and flushed (like racers who had pulled up), and at last
the victor appeared with the dollar between his teeth.  We left these
juvenile _Sam Patches_, and returned to the town.  [Sam Patch, an
American peripatetic, who used to amuse himself and astonish his
countrymen by leaping down the different falls in America.  He leaped
down a portion of the Niagara without injury; but one fine day, having
taken a drop too much, he took a leap too much.  He went down the
Genassee Fall, and since that time he has not been seen or heard of.]

There is no part of the world, perhaps, where you have more difficulty
in obtaining permission to be alone, and indulge in a reverie, than in
America.  The Americans are as gregarious as school-boys, and think it
an incivility to leave you by yourself.  Every thing is done in crowds,
and among a crowd.  They even prefer a double bed to a single one, and I
have often had the offer to sleep with me made out of real kindness.
You must go "east of sun-rise" (or west of sun-set) if you would have
solitude.

I never was in a more meditative humour, more anxious to be left to my
own dreamings, than when I ascended the railroad car with my companion
to return to Jersey city; we were the only two in that division of the
car, and my friend, who understood me, had the complaisance to go fast
asleep.  I made sure that, for an hour or two, I could indulge in my own
castle-buildings, and allow my fleeting thoughts to pass over my brain,
like the scud over the moon.  At our first stoppage a third party
stepped in and seated himself between us.  He looked at my companion,
who was fast asleep.  He turned to me, and I turned away my head.  Once
more was I standing at the Falls of the Passaic; once more were the
waters rolling down before me, the trees gracefully waving their boughs
to the breeze, and the spray cooling my heated brain; my brain was, like
the camera-obscura, filled with the pleasing images, which I watched as
they passed before me so vividly portrayed, all in life and motion, when
I was interrupted by--

"I was born in the very heart of Cheshire, sir."

Confound the fellow!  The river, falls, foliage, all vanished at once;
and I found myself sitting in a railroad-car (which I had been
unconscious of), with a heavy lump of humanity by my side.  I wished one
of the largest Cheshire cheeses down his throat.

"Indeed!" replied I, not looking at the man.

"Yes, sir--in the very heart of Cheshire."

"Would you had staid there!" thought I, turning away to the window
without replying.

"Will you oblige me with a pinch of your snuff, sir?  I left my box at
New York."

I gave him the box, and, when he had helped himself, laid it down on the
vacant seat opposite to him, that he might not have to apply again, and
fell back and shut my eyes, as a hint to him that I did not wish to
enter into conversation.  A pause ensued, and I had hopes; but they were
delusive.

"I have been eighteen years in this country, sir."

"You appear to be quite _Americanised_!" thought I; but I made him no
answer.

"I went up to Patterson, sir," continued he (now turning round to me,
and speaking in my ear), "thinking that I could get to Philadelphia by
that route, and found that I had made a mistake; so I have come back.  I
am _told_ there are some pretty falls there, sir."

"Would you were beneath them!" thought I; but I could not help laughing
at the idea of a man going to Patterson, and returning without seeing
the falls!  By this time he had awakened his companion, who, being
American himself, and finding that there was to be no more sleep, took
him up, in the American fashion, and put to him successively the
following questions, all of which were answered without
hesitation:--"What is your name? where are you from? where are you
going? what is your profession? how many dollars have you made? have you
a wife and children?"  All these being duly responded to, he asked my
companion who I might be, and was told that I was an operative artist,
and one of the first cotton spinners in the country.

This communication procured for me considerable deference from our new
acquaintance during the remainder of our journey.  He observed in the
ear of my companion, that he thought I knew a thing or two.  In a
country like America the Utilitarian will always command respect.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER EIGHT.

The 4th of July, the sixty-first anniversary of American independence!

Pop--pop--bang--pop--pop--bang--bang bang!  Mercy on us! how fortunate
it is that anniversaries come only once a year.  Well, the Americans may
have great reason to be proud of this day, and of the deeds of their
forefathers, but why do they get so confoundedly drunk? why, on this day
of independence, should they become so _dependent_ upon posts and rails
for support?  The day is at last over; my head aches, but there will be
many more aching heads tomorrow morning!

What a combination of vowels and consonants have been put together! what
strings of tropes, metaphors, and allegories, have been used on this
day! what varieties and gradations of eloquence!  There are at least
fifty thousand cities, towns, villages, and hamlets, spread over the
surface of America--in each the Declaration of Independence has been
read; in all one, and in some two or three, orations have been
delivered, with as much gunpowder in them as in the squibs and crackers.
But let me describe what I actually saw.

The commemoration commenced, if the day did not, on the evening of the
3rd, by the municipal police going round and pasting up placards,
informing the citizens of New York, that all persons letting off
fireworks would be taken into custody, which notice was immediately
followed up by the little boys proving their independence of the
authorities, by letting off squibs, crackers, and bombs; and cannons,
made out of shin bones, which flew in the face of every passenger, in
the exact ratio that the little boys flew in the face of the
authorities.  This continued the whole night, and thus was ushered in
the great and glorious day, illumined by a bright and glaring sun (as if
bespoken on purpose by the mayor and corporation), with the thermometer
at 90 degrees in the shade.  The first sight which met the eye after
sunrise, was the precipitate escape, from a city visited with the plague
of gunpowder, of respectable or timorous people in coaches, carriages,
waggons, and every variety of vehicle.  "My kingdom for a horse!" was
the general cry of all those who could not stand fire.  In the mean
while, the whole atmosphere was filled with independence.  Such was the
quantity of American flags which were hoisted on board of the vessels,
hung out of windows, or carried about by little boys, that you saw more
stars at noon-day than ever could be counted on the brightest night.  On
each side of the whole length of Broadway, were ranged booths and
stands, similar to those at an English fair, and on which were displayed
small plates of oysters, with a fork stuck in the board opposite to each
plate; clams sweltering in the hot sun; pineapples, boiled hams, pies,
puddings, barley-sugar, and many other indescribables.  But what was
most remarkable, Broadway being three miles long, and the booths lining
each side of it, in every booth there was a roast pig, large or small,
as the centre attraction.  Six miles of roast pig! and that in New York
city alone; and roast pig in every other city, town, hamlet, and
village, in the Union.  What association can there be between roast pig
and independence?  Let it not be supposed that there was any deficiency
in the very necessary articles of potation on this auspicious day: no!
the booths were loaded with porter, ale, cyder, mead, brandy, wine,
ginger-beer, pop, soda-water, whiskey, rum, punch, gin slings,
cocktails, mint julips, besides many other compounds, to name which
nothing but the luxuriance of American-English could invent a word.
Certainly the preparations in the refreshment way were most imposing,
and gave you some idea of what had to be gone through on this auspicious
day.  Martial music sounded from a dozen quarters at once; and as you
turned your head, you tacked to the first bars of a march from one band,
the concluding bars of Yankee Doodle from another.  At last the troops
of militia and volunteers, who had been gathering in the park and other
squares, made their appearance, well dressed and well equipped, and, in
honour of the day, marching as independently as they well could.  I did
not see them go through many manoeuvres, but there was one which they
appeared to excel in, and that was grounding arms and eating pies.  I
found that the current went towards Castle Garden, and away I went with
it.  There the troops were all collected on the green, shaded by the
trees, and the effect was very beautiful.  The artillery and infantry
were drawn up in a line pointing to the water.  The officers in their
regimental dresses and long white feathers, generals and aides-de-camp,
colonels, commandants, majors, all galloping up and down in front of the
line,--white horses and long tails appearing the most fashionable and
correct.  The crowds assembled were, as American crowds usually are,
quiet and well behaved.  I recognised many of my literary friends turned
into generals, and flourishing their swords instead of their pens.  The
scene was very animating; the shipping at the wharfs were loaded with
star-spangled banners; steamers paddling in every direction, were
covered with flags; the whole beautiful Sound was alive with boats and
sailing vessels, all flaunting with pennants and streamers.  It was, as
Ducrow would call it, "A Grand Military and Aquatic Spectacle."

Then the troops marched up into town again, and so did I follow them as
I used to do the reviews in England, when a boy.  All creation appeared
to be independent on this day; some of the horses particularly so, for
they would not keep "in no line not no how."  Some preferred going
sideways like crabs, others went backwards, some would not go at all,
others went a great deal too fast, and not a few parted company with
their riders, whom they kicked off just to shew their independence; but
let them go which way they would, they could not avoid the squibs and
crackers.  And the women were in the same predicament: they might dance
right, or dance left, it was only out of the frying-pan into the fire,
for it was pop, pop; bang, bang; fiz, pop, bang, so that you literally
trod upon gunpowder.

When the troops marched up Broadway, louder even than the music were to
be heard the screams of delight from the children at the crowded windows
on each side.  "Ma! ma! there's pa!"  "Oh! there's John."  "Look at
uncle on his big horse."

The troops did not march in very good order, because, independently of
their not knowing how, there was a great deal of independence to contend
with.  At one time an omnibus and four would drive in and cut off the
general and his staff from his division; at another, a cart would roll
in and insist upon following close upon the band of music; so that it
was a mixed procession--Generals, omnibus and four, music, cart-loads of
bricks, troops, omnibus and pair, artillery, hackney-coach, etcetera.
etcetera.  Notwithstanding all this, they at last arrived at the City
Hall, when those who were old enough heard the Declaration of
Independence read for the sixty-first time; and then it was--"Begone,
brave army, and don't kick up a row."

I was invited to dine with the mayor and corporation at the City Hall.
We sat down in the Hall of Justice, and certainly, great justice was
done to the dinner, which (as the wife says to her husband after a
party, where the second course follows the first with unusual celerity)
"went off remarkably well."  The crackers popped outside, and the
champagne popped in.  The celerity of the Americans at a public dinner
is very commendable; they speak only now and then; and the toasts follow
so fast, that you have just time to empty your glass, before you are
requested to fill again.  Thus the arranged toasts went off rapidly, and
after them, any one might withdraw.  I waited till the thirteenth toast,
the last on the paper, to wit, the ladies of America; and, having
previously, in a speech from the recorder, bolted Bunker's Hill and New
Orleans, I thought I might as well bolt myself, as I wished to see the
fireworks, which were to be very splendid.

Unless you are an amateur, there is no occasion to go to the various
places of public amusement where the fireworks are let off, for they are
sent up every where in such quantities that you hardly know which way to
turn your eyes.  It is, however, advisable to go into some place of
safety, for the little boys and the big boys have all got their supply
of rockets, which they fire off in the streets--some running
horizontally up the pavement, and sticking into the back of a passenger;
and others mounting slantingdicularly and Paul-Prying into the bed-room
windows on the third floor or attics, just to see how things are going
on _there_.  Look in any point of the compass, and you will see a shower
of rockets in the sky: turn from New York to Jersey City, from Jersey
City to Brooklyn, and shower is answered by shower on either side of the
water.  Hoboken repeats the signal: and thus it is carried on to the
east, the west, the north, and the south, from Rhode Island to the
Missouri, from the Canada frontier to the Gulf of Mexico.  At the
various gardens the combinations were very beautiful, and exceeded
anything that I had witnessed in London or Paris.  What with
sea-serpents, giant rockets scaling heaven, Bengal lights, Chinese
fires, Italian suns, fairy bowers, crowns of Jupiter, exeranthemums,
Tartar temples, Vesta's diadems, magic circles, morning glories, stars
of Colombia, and temples of liberty, all America was in a blaze; and, in
addition to this mode of manifesting its joy, all America was tipsy.

There is something grand in the idea of a national intoxication.  In
this world, vices on a grand scale dilate into virtues; he who murders
one man, is strung up with ignominy; but he who murders twenty thousand
has a statue to his memory, and is handed down to posterity as a hero.
A staggering individual is a laughable and, sometimes, a disgusting
spectacle; but the whole of a vast continent reeling, offering a
holocaust of its brains for mercies vouchsafed, is an appropriate
tribute of gratitude for the rights of equality and the _levelling
spirit_ of their institutions.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER NINE.

Once more flying up the noble Hudson.  After you have passed West Point,
the highlands, through which the river has forced its passage, gradually
diminish, and as the shore becomes level, so does the country become
more fertile.

We passed the manor of Albany, as it is called, being a Dutch grant of
land, now in the possession of one person, a Mr Van Rensalaer, and
equal to many a German principality, being twenty miles by forty-eight
miles square.  Mr Van Rensalaer still retains the old title of Patroon.
It is generally supposed in England that, in America, all property must
be divided between the children at the decease of the parent.  This is
not the case.  The entailing of estates was abolished by an act of
Congress in 1788, but a man may will away his property entirely to his
eldest son if he pleases.  This is, however, seldom done; public opinion
is too strong against it, and the Americans fear public opinion beyond
the grave.  Indeed, were a man so to act, the other claimants would
probably appeal to have the will set aside upon the grounds of lunacy,
and the sympathy of an American jury would decree in their favour.

As you ascend to Albany City, the banks of the river are very fertile
and beautiful, and the river is spotted with many very picturesque
little islands.  The country seats, which fringe the whole line of
shore, are all built in the same, and very bad, style.  Every house or
tenement, be it a palace or a cottage, has its porticos and pillars--a
string of petty Parthenons which tire you by their uniformity and
pretence.

I had intended to stop at Hudson, that I might proceed from thence to
New Lebanon to visit the Shaking Quakers; but, as I discovered that
there was a community of them not five miles from Troy, I, to avoid a
fatiguing journey, left Albany, and continued on to that city.

Albany is one of the oldest Dutch settlements, and among its inhabitants
are to be found many of the descendants of the Dutch aristocracy.
Indeed, it may even now be considered as a Dutch city.  It is the
capital of the state of New York, with a population of nearly 30,000.
Its commerce is very extensive, as it is here that the Erie canal
communications with the Far West, as well as the Eastern States,
debouche into the Hudson.

We have here a singular proof, not only of the rapidity with which
cities rise in America, but also how superior energy will overcome every
disadvantage.  Little more than twenty years ago, Albany stood by
itself, a large and populous city without a rival, but its population
was chiefly Dutch.  The Yankees from the Eastern States came down and
settled themselves at Troy, not five miles distant, in opposition to
them.  It would be supposed that Albany could have crushed this city in
its birth, but it could not, and Troy is now a beautiful city, with its
mayor, its corporation, and a population of 20,000 souls, and divides
the commerce with Albany, from which most of the eastern trade has been
ravished.  The inhabitants of Albany are termed Albanians, those of
Troy, Trojans!  In one feature these cities are very similar, being both
crowded with lumber and pretty girls.

I went out to see the Shakers at Niskayuna.  So much has already been
said about their tenets that I shall not repeat them, further than to
observe that all their goods are in common, and that, although the sexes
mix together, they profess the vows of celibacy and chastity.  Their
lands are in excellent order, and they are said to be very rich.  [I
should be very sorry to take away the character of any community, but,
as I was a little sceptical as to the possibility of the vow of chastity
being observed under circumstances above alluded to, I made some
inquiries, and having met with one who had seceded from the fraternity,
I discovered that my opinion of human nature was correct, and the
conduct of the Shakers not altogether so.  I must not enter into
details, as they would be unfit for publication.]

We were admitted into a long room on the ground-floors where the Shakers
were seated on forms, the men opposite to the women, and apart from each
other.  The men were in their waistcoats and shirt-sleeves, twiddling
their thumbs, and looking awfully puritanical.  The women were attired
in dresses of very light striped cotton, which hung about them like full
dressing-gowns, and concealed all shape and proportions.  A plain mob
cap on their heads, and a thick muslin handkerchief in many folds over
their shoulders, completed their attire.  They each held in their hands
a pocket-handkerchief as large as a towel, and of almost the same
substance.  But the appearance of the women was melancholy and
unnatural; I say unnatural because it required to be accounted for.
They had all the advantages of exercise and labour in the open air, good
food, and good clothing; they were not overworked, for they are not
required to work more than they please; and yet there was something so
pallid, so unearthly in their complexions, that it gave you the idea
that they had been taken up from their coffins a few hours after their
decease: not a hue of health, not a vestige of colour in any cheek or
lip;--one cadaverous yellow tinge prevailed.  And yet there were to be
seen many faces very beautiful, as far as regarded outline, but they
were the features of the beautiful in death.  The men, on the contrary,
were ruddy, strong, and vigorous.  Why, then, this difference between
the sexes, where they each performed the same duties, where none were
taxed beyond their strength, and all were well fed and clothed?

After a silence of ten minutes, one of the men of the community,
evidently a coarse illiterate person, rose and addressed a few words to
the spectators, requesting them not to laugh at what they saw, but to
behave themselves properly, etcetera, and then he sat down.

One of the leaders then burst out into a hymn, to a jigging sort of
tune, and all the others joined chorus.  After the hymn was sung they
all rose, put away the forms on which they had been seated, and stood in
lines, eight in a row, men and women separate, facing each other, and
about ten feet apart--the ranks of men being flanked by the boys, and
those of the women by the girls.  They commenced their dancing by
advancing in rows, just about as far as profane people do in _L'ete_
when they dance quadrilles, and then retreated the same distance, all
keeping regular time, and turning back to back after every third
advance.  The movement was rather quick, and they danced to their own
singing of the following beautiful composition:--

  Law, law, de lawdel law,
  Law, law, de law,
  Law, law, de lawdel law,
  Lawdel, lawdel, law--

keeping time also with the hands as well as feet, the former raised up
to the chest, and hanging down like the fore-paws of a dancing bear.
After a quarter of an hour they sat down again, and the women made use
of their large towel pocket-handkerchiefs to wipe off the perspiration.
Another hymn was sung, and then the same person addressed the
spectators, requesting them not to laugh, and inquiring if any of them
felt a wish to be saved--adding, "Not one of you, I don't think."  He
looked round at all of us with the most ineffable contempt, and then sat
down; and they sang another hymn, the burden of which was--

  "Our souls are saved, and we are free
  From vice and all in-i-qui-ty."

which was a very comfortable delusion, at all events.

They then rose again, put away the forms as before, and danced in
another fashion.  Instead of _L'ete_, it was _Grande ronde_.  About ten
men and women stood in two lines in the centre of the room, as a vocal
band of music, while all the others, two and two, women first and men
following, promenaded round, with a short quick step, to the tune
chaunted in the centre.  As they went round and round, shaking their
paws up and down before them, the scene was very absurd, and I could
have laughed had I not felt disgusted at such a degradation of rational
and immortal beings.  This dance lasted a long while, until the music
turned to croaking, and the perspiration was abundant; they stopped at
last, and then announced that their exercise was finished.  I waited a
little while after the main body had dispersed, to speak with one of the
elders.  "I will be with you directly," replied he, walking hastily
away; but he never came back.

I never heard the principle upon which they dance.  David danced before
the ark; but it is to be presumed that David danced as well as he sung.
At least he thought so; for when his wife Michal laughed at him, he made
her conduct a ground of divorce.

Every community which works in common, and is provided for in the mass,
must become _rich_, especially when it has no children to maintain.  It
is like receiving a person's labour in exchange for victuals and
clothing only, and this is all I can perceive that can be said in favour
of these people.  Suffice it to say, I have a very bad opinion of them:
and were I disposed to dilate on the subject, I should feel no
inclination to treat them with the lenity shewn to them by other
travellers.

From this mockery, I went to see what had a real tendency to make you
feel religious--the Falls of the Mohawk, about three miles from Troy.
Picturesque and beautiful as all falling water is, to describe it is
extremely difficult, unless, indeed by a forced simile; the flow of
language is too tame for the flow of water; but if the reader can
imagine a ledge of black rocks, about sixty or seventy feet high, and
that over this ledge was poured simultaneously the milk of some millions
of cows, he will then have some idea of the beauty of the creaming Falls
of the Mohawk, imbedded as they are in their wild and luxuriant scenery.

Close to the Falls, I perceived a few small wooden shealings, appearing,
under the majestic trees which overshadowed them, more like dog-kennels
than the habitations of men: they were tenanted by Irish emigrants, who
had taken work at the new locks forming on the Erie canal.  I went up to
them.  In a tenement about fourteen feet by ten, lived an Irishman, his
wife, and family, and seven boys as he called them, young men from
twenty to thirty years of age, who boarded with him.  There was but one
bed, on which slept the man, his wife, and family.  Above the bed were
some planks, extending half way the length of the shealing, and there
slept the seven boys, without any mattress, or even straw, to lie upon.
I entered into conversation with them: they complained bitterly of the
times, saying that their pay was not 2 shillings 6 pence of our money
per day, and that they could not live upon it.  This was true, but the
distress had been communicated to all parts, and they were fortunate in
finding work at all, as most of the public works had been discontinued.
I mentioned to them that the price of labour in Ohio, Illinois, and the
West, was said to be two dollars a-day, and asked them, why they did not
go there?  They replied, that such were the price quoted, to induce
people to go, but that they never could find it when they arrived; that
the clearing of new lands was attended with ague and fever; and that if
once down with these diseases there was no one to help them to rise
again.  I looked for the pig, and there he was, sure enough, under the
bed.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER TEN.

Troy, like a modern academy, is classical, as well as commercial, having
Mount Olympus on one side, and Mount Ida in its rear.  The panorama from
the summit of the latter is splendid.  A few years back a portion of
Mount Ida made a slip, and the avalanche destroyed several cottages and
five or six individuals.  The avalanche took place on a dark night and
in a heavy snow storm.  Two brick kilns were lighted at the time, and,
as the mountain swept them away, the blaze of the disturbed fires called
out the fire engines, otherwise more lives would have been lost.
Houses, stables, and sheds, were all hurled away together.  Horses,
children, and women, rolled together in confusion.  One child had a very
strange escape.  It had been forced out of its bed, and was found on the
top of a huge mass of clay, weighing forty or fifty tons; he was crying,
and asking who had put him there.  Had all the inhabitants of the
cottages been within, at least forty must have perished; but
notwithstanding the severity of the weather, the day being Sunday, they
had all gone to evening meeting, and thus, being good Christians, they
were for once rewarded for it on this side of the grave.

As I surveyed the busy scene below me, the gentleman who accompanied me
to the summit of the mountain, informed me that forty-three years ago
his father was the first settler, and that then there was but his one
hut in the place where now stood the splendid town.

But signs of the times were manifest here also.  Commerce had stopped
for the present, and a long line of canal boats was laid up for want of
employment.

I remained two hours perched upon the top of the mountain.  I should not
have staid so long, perhaps, had they not brought me a basket of
cherries, so that I could gratify more senses than one.  I felt
becomingly classical whilst sitting on the precise birth-place of
Jupiter, attended by Pomona, with Troy at my feet, and Mount Olympus in
the distance; but I was obliged to descend to lumber and gin-slings, and
I set off for Albany, where I had an engagement, having been invited to
attend at the examination of the young ladies at the seminary.

Here again is a rivalry between Albany and Troy, each of them glorying
in possessing the largest seminary for the education of young ladies,
who are sent from every State of the Union, to be finished off at one or
the other of them.  Here, and indeed in many other establishments, the
young ladies now quitting it have diplomas given to them, if they pass
their examinations satisfactorily.  They are educated upon a system
which would satisfy even Miss Martineau, and prepared to exercise the
rights of which she complains that women have been so unjustly deprived.
Conceive three hundred modern Portias, who regularly take their
degrees, and emerge from the portico of the seminary full of algebra,
equality, and the theory of the constitution!  The quantity and variety
crammed into them is beyond all calculation.  The examination takes
place yearly, to prove to the parents that the preceptors have, done
their duty, and is in itself very innocent, as it only causes the young
ladies to blush a little.

This afternoon they were examined in algebra, and their performance was
very creditable.  Under a certain age girls are certainly much quicker
than boys, and I presume would retain what they learnt if it were not
for their subsequent duties in making puddings, and nursing babies.  Yet
there are affairs which must be performed by one sex or the other, and
of what use can algebra and other abstruse matters be to a woman in her
present state of domestic thraldom.

The theory of the American constitution was the next subject on which
they were examined; by their replies, this appeared to be to them more
abstruse than algebra: but the fact is, women are born tories, and admit
no other than petticoat government as legitimate.

The next day we again repaired to the hall, and French was the language
in which they were to be examined, and the examination afforded us much
amusement.

The young ladies sat down in rows on one side of the room.  In the
centre, towards the end, was an easel, on which was placed a large black
board on which they worked with chalk the questions in algebra,
etcetera,--a towel hanging to it, that they might wipe out and correct.
The French preceptor, an old Emigre Count, sat down with the examiners
before the board, the visitors (chiefly composed of anxious papas and
mammas) being seated on benches behind them.  As it happened, I had
taken my seat close to the examining board, and at some little distance
from the other persons who were deputed or invited to attend.  I don't
knew how I came there.  I believe I had come in too late; but there I
was, within three feet of every young lady who came up to the board.

"Now, messieurs, have the kindness to ask any question you please," said
the old Count.  "Mademoiselle, you will have the goodness to step
forward."  A question was proposed in English, which the young lady had
to write down in French.  The very first went wrong: I perceived it, and
without looking at her, pronounced the right word, so that she could
hear it.  She caught it, rubbed out the wrong word with the towel, and
rectified it.  This was carried on through the whole sentence, and then
she retreated from the board that her work might be examined.  "Very
well, very well, indeed, Miss, c'est parfaitement bien;" and the young
lady sat down blushing.  Thus were they all called up, and one after
another prompted by me; and the old Count was delighted at the success
of his pupils.

Now, what amused me in this was the little bit of human nature; the
_tact_ displayed by the sex, which appears to be innate, and which never
deserts them.  Had I prompted a boy, he would most likely have turned
his head round towards me, and thus have revealed what I was about; but
not one of the whole class was guilty of such indiscretion.  They heard
me, rubbed out, corrected, waited for the word when they did not know
it, but never by any look or sign made it appear that there was any
understanding between us.  Their eyes were constantly fixed on the
board, and they appeared not to know that I was in the room.  It was
really beautiful.  When the examination was over, I received a look from
them all, half comic, half serious, which amply repaid me for my
assistance.

As young ladies are assembled here from every State of the Union, it was
a _fair_ criterion of American beauty, and it must be acknowledged that
the American women are the _prettiest_ in the whole world.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Saratoga Springs.--Watering places all over the world are much alike:
they must be well filled with company, and full of bustle, and then they
answer the purpose for which they are intended--a general muster, under
the banner of folly, to drive care and common sense out of the field.
Like assembly-rooms, unless lighted up and full of people, they look
desolate and forlorn: so it was with Saratoga: a beautiful spot,
beautiful hotels, and beautiful water; but all these beauties were
thrown away, and the water ran away unheeded, because the place was
empty.  People's pockets were empty, and Saratoga was to let.  The
consequence was that I remained a week there, and should have remained
much longer had I not been warned, by repeated arrivals, that the
visitors were increasing, and that I should be no longer alone.

The weariness of solitude, as described by Alexander Selkirk and the
Anti-Zimmermanns, can surely not be equal to the misery of never being
alone; of feeling that your thoughts and ideas, rapidly accumulating,
are in a state of chaos and confusion, and that you have not a moment to
put them into any lucid order; of finding yourself, against your will,
continually in society, bandied from one person to the other, to make
the same bows, extend the same hand to be grasped, and reply to the same
eternal questions; until, like a man borne down by sleep after long
vigils, and at each moment roused to reply, you either are not aware of
what you do say, or are dead beat into an unmeaning smile.  Since I have
been in this country, I have suffered this to such a degree as at last
to become quite nervous on the subject; and I might reply in the words
of the spirit summoned by Lochiel--

  "Now my weary lips I close;
  Leave, oh! leave me to repose."

It would be a strange account, had it been possible to keep one, of the
number of introductions which I have had since I came into this country.
Mr A introduces Mr B and C, Mr B and C introduce Mr D, E, F, and G.
Messrs. D, E, F, and G introduce Messrs. H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, and so
it goes on, _ad infinitum_ during the whole of the day; and this to me
who never could remember either a face or a name.

At introduction it is invariably the custom to shake hands; and thus you
go on shaking hands here, there, and everywhere, and with everybody; for
it is impossible to know who is who, in this land of equality.

But one shake of the hand will not do; if twenty times during the same
day you meet a person to whom you have been introduced, the hand is
every where extended with--"Well, captain, how do you find yourself by
this time?" and, in their good-will, when they seize your hand, they
follow the apothecary's advice--"When taken, to be well shaken."  As for
the constant query--"How do you like our country?"--that is natural
enough.  I should ask the same of an American in England, but to reply
to it is not the less tedious.  It is all well meant, all kindness, but
it really requires fortitude and patience to endure it.  Every one
throws in his voluntary tribute of compliments and good-will, but the
accumulated mass is too great for any one individual to bear.  How I
long for the ocean prairies, or the wild forests.  Subsequently, I
begged hard to be shut up for six months in the Penitentiary at
Philadelphia, but Sammy Wood said it was against the regulations.  He
comforted me with a _tete-a-tete_ dinner, which was so agreeable, that
at the time I quite forgot I wished to be alone.

When I left Saratoga, I found no one, as I thought, in the car, who knew
me; and I determined, if possible, they should, in the Indian phrase,
_lose my trail_.  I arrived at Schenectady, and was put down there.  I
amused myself until the train started for Utica, which was to be in a
few hours, in walking about the engine-house, and examining the
locomotives; and having satisfied myself, set out for a solitary walk in
the country.  There was no name on my luggage, and I had not given my
name when I took my ticket for the railroad.  "At last," said I to
myself, "_I am incog_."  I had walked out of the engine-house, looked
round the compass, and resolved in which direction I would bend my
steps, when a young man came up to me, and very politely taking off his
hat, said, "I believe I have the pleasure of speaking to Captain M---."
Had he known my indignation when he mentioned my name, poor fellow! but
there was no help for it, and I replied in the affirmative.  After
apologising, he introduced himself, and then requested the liberty of
introducing his friend.  "Well, if ever," thought I; and, "no never,"
followed afterwards as a matter of course, and as a matter of course his
friend was introduced.  It reminded me of old times, when, midshipmen at
balls, we used to introduce each other to ladies we had none of us seen
before in our lives.  Well, there I was, between two overpowering
civilities, but they meant it kindly, and I could not be angry.  These
were students of Schenectady College: would I like to see it? a
beautiful location, not half a mile off.  I requested to know if there
was any thing to be seen there, as I did not like to take a hot walk for
nothing, instead of the shady one I had proposed for myself.  "Yes,
there was Professor Nott"--I had of course heard of Professor Nott.--
Professor Nott, who governed by moral influence and paternal sway, and
who had written so largely on stones and anthracite coal.  I had never
before heard of moral influence, stones, or anthracite coal.  Then there
were more professors, and a cabinet of minerals--the last was an
inducement, and I went.

I saw Professor Nott, but not the cabinet of minerals, for Professor
Savage had the key.  With Professor Nott I had rather a hot argument
about anthracite coal, and then escaped before he was cool again.  The
students walked back with me to the hotel, and, with many apologies for
leaving me, informed me that dinner was ready.  I would not tax their
politeness any longer, and they departed.

Schenectady College, like most of the buildings in America, was
commenced on a grand scale, but has never been finished; the two wings
are finished, and the centre is lithographed, which looks very imposing
in the plate.  There is a peculiarity in this college: it is called the
Botany Bay, from its receiving young men who have been expelled from
other colleges, and who are kept in order by moral influence and
paternal sway, the only means certainly by which wild young men are to
be reclaimed.  Seriously speaking Professor Nott is a very clever man,
and I suspect this college will turn out more clever men than any other
in the Union.  It differs from the other colleges in another point.  It
upholds no peculiar sect of religion, which almost all the rest do.  For
instance, Yule [Yale], William's Town, and Amherst Colleges, are under
presbyterian influence; Washington episcopal; Cambridge, in
Massachusets, unitarian.

There is one disadvantage generally attending railroads.  Travellers
proceed more rapidly, but they lose all the beauty of the country.
Railroads of course run through the most level portions of the States;
and the levels, except they happen to be on the banks of a river, are
invariably uninteresting.  The road from Schenectady to Utica is one of
the exceptions to this rule: there is not perhaps a more beautiful
variety of scenery to be found anywhere.  You run the whole way through
the lovely valley of the Mohawk, on the banks of the Mohawk river.  It
was really delightful, but the motion was so rapid that you lamented
passing by so fast.  The Utica railroad is one of the best in America;
the eighty miles are performed in four hours and a-half, stoppages for
taking in water, passengers, and refreshments, included.  The locomotive
was of great power, and as it snorted along with a train of carriages of
half a mile long in tow, it threw out such showers of fire, that we were
constantly in danger of conflagration.  The weather was too warm to
admit of the windows being closed, and the ladies, assisted by the
gentlemen, were constantly employed in putting out the sparks which
settled on their clothes--the first time I ever heard ladies complain of
having too many _sparks_ about them.  As the evening closed in we
actually were whirled along through a stream of fiery threads--a
beautiful, although humble imitation of the tail of a comet.

I had not been recognised in the rail car, and I again flattered myself
that I was unknown.  I proceeded, on my arrival at Utica, to the hotel,
and asking at the bar for a bed, the book was handed to me, and I was
requested to write my name.  Wherever you stop in America, they
generally produce a book and demand your name, not on account of any
police regulations, but merely because they will not allow secrets in
America, and because they choose to know who you may be.  Of course, you
may frustrate this espionage by putting down any name you please; and I
had the pen in my hand, and was just thinking whether I should be Mr
Snooks or Mr Smith, when I received a slap on the shoulder, accompanied
with--"Well, captain, how are you by this time?"  In despair I let the
pen drop out of my hand, and instead of my name I left on the book a
large blot.  It was an old acquaintance from Albany, and before I had
been ten minutes in the hotel, I was recognised by at least ten more.
The Americans are such locomotives themselves, that it is useless to
attempt the incognito in any part except the west side of the
Missisippi, or the Rocky Mountains.  Once known at New York, and you are
known every where, for in every place you will meet with some one whom
you have met walking in Broadway.

A tremendous thunder-storm, with torrents of rain, prevented my leaving
Utica for Trenton Falls until late in the afternoon.  The roads,
ploughed up by the rain, were any thing but democratic; there was no
level in them; and we were jolted and shaken like peas in a rattle,
until we were silent from absolute suffering.

I rose the next morning at four o'clock.  There was a heavy fog in the
air, and you could not distinguish more than one hundred yards before
you.  I followed the path pointed out to me the night before, through a
forest of majestic trees, and descending a long flight of steps found
myself below the Falls.  The scene impressed you with awe--the waters
roared through deep chasms, between two walls of rock, one hundred and
fifty feet high, perpendicular on each side, and the width between the
two varying from forty to fifty feet.  The high rocks were of black
carbonate of lime in perfectly horizontal strata, so equally divided
that they appeared like solid masonry.  For fifty or sixty feet above
the rushing waters they were smooth and bare; above that line vegetation
commenced with small bushes, until you arrived at their summits, which
were crowned with splendid forest trees, some of them inclining over the
chasm, as if they would peep into the abyss below and witness the wild
tumult of the waters.

From the narrowness of the pass, the height of the rocks, and the
superadded towering of the trees above, but a small portion of the
heavens was to be seen, and this was not blue, but of a misty murky
grey.  The first sensation was that of dizziness and confusion, from the
unusual absence of the sky above, and the dashing frantic speed of the
angry boiling waters.  The rocks on each side have been blasted so as to
form a path by which you may walk up to the first fall; but this path
was at times very narrow and you have to cling to the chain which is let
into the rock.  The heavy storm of the day before had swelled the
torrent so that it rose nearly a foot above this path; and before I had
proceeded far, I found that the flood swept between my legs with a force
which would have taken some people off their feet.  The rapids below the
Falls are much grander than the Falls themselves; there was one down in
a chasm between two riven rocks which it was painful to look long upon,
and watch with what a deep plunge--what irresistible force--the waters
dashed down and then returned to their own surface, as if struggling and
out of breath.  As I stood over them in their wild career, listening to
their roaring as if in anger, and watching the madness of their speed, I
felt a sensation of awe--an inward acknowledgment of the tremendous
power of Nature; and, after a time, I departed with feelings of gladness
to escape from thought which became painful when so near to danger.

I gained the lower falls, which now covered the whole width of the rock,
which they seldom do except during the freshets.  They were
extraordinary from their variety.  On the side where I stood, poured
down a rapid column of water about one-half of the width of the fall; on
the other, it was running over a clear thin stream, as gentle and
amiable as water could be.  That part of the fall reminded me of ladies'
hair in flowing ringlets, and the one nearest me of the Lord Chancellor
Eldon, in all the pomposity and frowning dignity of his full-bottomed
wig.  And then I thought of the lion and the lamb, not lying down, but
falling down together; and then I thought that I was wet through, which
was a fact; so I climbed up a ladder, and came to a wooden bridge above
the fall, which conveyed me to the other side.  The bridge posses over a
staircase of little falls, sometimes diagonally, sometimes at right
angles with the sites, and is very picturesque.  On the other side you
climb up a ladder of one hundred feet, and arrive at a little building
with a portico, where travellers are refreshed.  Here you have a view of
all the upper falls, but these seem tame after witnessing the savage
impetuosity of the rapids below.  You ascend another ladder of one
hundred feet, and you arrive at a path pointed out to you by the broad
chips of the woodman's axe.  Follow the chips and you will arrive four
or five hundred feet above both the bridge and the level of the upper
fall.  This scene is splendid.  The black perpendicular rocks on the
other side; the succession of falls; the rapids roaring below; the
forest trees rising to the clouds and spreading with their majestic
boughs the vapour ascending from the falling waters; together with the
occasional glimpses of the skies here and there--all this induces you to
wander with your eyes from one point of view to another, never tiring
with its beauty, wildness, and vastness: and, if you do not exclaim with
the Mussulman, God is great! you _feel_ it through every sense, and at
every pulsation of the heart.

The mountain was still above me, and I continued my ascent; but the
chips now disappeared, and, like Tom Thumb, I lost my way.  I attempted
to retreat, but in vain; I was no longer amongst forest trees, but in a
maze of young mountain ash, from which I could not extricate myself: so
I stood still to think what I should do.  I recollected that the usual
course of proceeding on such occasions, was either to sit down and cry,
or attempt to get out of your scrape.  Tom Thumb did both; but I had no
time to indulge in the former luxury, so I pushed and pushed, till I
pushed myself out of my scrape, and found myself in a more respectable
part of the woods.  I then stopped to take breath.  I heard a rustling
behind me, and made sure it was a panther:--it was a beautiful little
palm squirrel, who came close to me, as if to say "Who are you?"  I took
off my hat and told him my name, when, very contemptuously, as I
thought, he turned short round, cocked his tail over his back, and
skipped away.  "Free, but not enlightened," thought I; "hasn't a soul
above nuts."  I also beat a retreat, and on my arrival at the hotel,
found that, although I had no guides to pay, Nature had made a very
considerable levy upon my wardrobe: my boots were bursting, my trowsers
torn to fragments, and my hat was spoilt; and, moreover, I sat shivering
in the garments which remained.  So I, in my turn, levied upon a cow
that was milking, and having improved her juice very much by the
addition of some rum, I sat down under the portico, and smoked the cigar
of meditation.

The walls of the portico were, as usual, scribbled over by those who
would obtain cheap celebrity.  I always read these productions; they are
pages of human life.  The majority of the scribblers leave a name and
nothing more: beyond that, some few of their productions are witty, some
sententious, mostly gross.  My thoughts, as I read over the rubbish,
were happily expressed by the following distich which I came to:--

  Les Fenetres et les Murailles,
  Sont le papier des Canailles.

A little farther on, I found the lie given to this remark by some
philosophic Spaniard:

  Amigo quien quiera que seas, piensa que si acqui
  Pones tu nombre, pronto il tiempo lo borrara
  Escribe lo pues en il libro de Dio en donde.
  Permancera eternamente--
  In Amigo.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER TWELVE.

Returning to Utica, I fell in with a horse bridled and saddled, that was
taking his way home without his master, every now and then cropping the
grass at the road-side, and then walking on in a most independent
manner.  His master had given him a certificate of leave, by chalking in
large letters on the saddle-flaps on each side, "_Let him go_."  This
was a very primitive proceeding; but I am not quite sure that it could
be ventured upon in Yorkshire, or in Virginia either, where they know a
good horse, and are particularly careful of it.  It is a fact, that
wherever they breed horses they invariably learn to steal them.

Set off for Oswego in a canal boat; it was called a packet-boat because
it did not carry merchandise, but was a very small affair, about fifty
feet long by eight wide.  The captain of her was, however, in his own
opinion, no small affair; he puffed and swelled until he looked larger
than his boat.  This personage, as soon as we were under weigh, sat down
in the narrow cabin, before a small table; sent for this writing-desk,
which was about the size of street organ, and, like himself, no small
affair; ordered a bell to be rung in our ears to summon the passengers;
and, then, taking down the names of four or five people, received the
enormous sum of ten dollars passage-money.  He then locked his desk with
a key large enough for a street-door, ordered his steward to remove it,
and went on deck to walk just three feet and return again.  After all,
there is nothing like being a captain.

Although many of the boats are laid up, there is still considerable
traffic on this canal.  We passed Rome, a village of two thousand
inhabitants, at which number it has for many years been nearly
stationary.  This branch of the canal is, of course, cut through the
levels, and we passed through swamps and wild forests; here and there
some few acres were cleared, and a log-house was erected, looking very
solitary and forlorn, surrounded by the stumps of the trees which had
been felled, and which now lay corded up on the banks of the canal,
ready to be disposed of.  Wild and dreary as the country is, the mass of
forest is gradually receding, and occasionally some solitary tree is
left standing, throwing out its wide arms, and appearing as if in
lamentation at its separation from its companions, with whom for
centuries it had been in close fellowship.

Extremes meet: as I looked down from the roof of the boat upon the
giants of the forest, which had for so many centuries reared their heads
undisturbed, but now lay prostrate before civilisation, the same
feelings were conjured up in my mind as when I have, in my wanderings,
surveyed such fragments of dismembered empires as the ruins of Carthage
or of Rome.  There the reign of Art was over, and Nature had resumed her
sway--here Nature was deposed, and about to resign her throne to the
usurper Art.  By the bye, the mosquitoes of this district have reaped
some benefit from the cutting of the canal here.  Before these
impervious forest retreats were thus pierced, they could not have tasted
human blood; for ages it must have been unknown to them, even by
tradition; and if they taxed all other boats on the canal as they did,
ours, a _canal share_ with them must be considerably above par, and
highly profitable.

At five o'clock we arrived at Syracuse.  I do detest these old names
vamped up.  Why do not the Americans take the Indian names?  They need
not be so very scrupulous about it; they have robbed the Indians of
everything else.

After you pass Syracuse, the country wears a more populous and inviting
appearance.  Salina is a village built upon a salt spring, which has the
greatest flow of water yet known, and this salt spring is the cause of
the improved appearance of the country; the banks of the canal, for
three miles, are lined with buildings for the boiling down of the salt
water, which is supplied by a double row of wooden pipes.  Boats are
constantly employed up and down the canal, transporting wood for the
supply of the furnaces.  It is calculated that two hundred thousand cord
of wood are required every year for the present produce; and as they
estimate upon an average about sixty cord of wood per acre in these
parts, those salt works are the means of yearly clearing away upwards of
three thousand acres of land.  Two million of bushels of salt are boiled
down every year: it is packed in barrels, and transported by the canals
and lakes to Canada, Michigan, Chicago, and the far West.  When we
reflect upon the number of people employed in the manufactories, and in
cutting wood, and making barrels, and engaged on the lakes and canals in
transporting the produce so many thousand miles, we must admire the
spring to industry which has been created by this little, but bounteous,
spring presented by nature.

The first sixty miles of this canal (I get on very slow with my
description, but canal travelling is very slow), which is through a flat
swampy forest, is without a lock; but after you pass Syracuse, you have
to descend by locks to the Oswego river, and the same at every rapid of
the river; in all, there is a fall of one hundred and sixty feet.
Simple as locks are, I could not help reverting to the wild rapids at
Trenton Falls, and reflecting upon how the ingenuity of man had so
easily been able to overcome and control Nature!  The locks did not
detain us long--they never lose time in America.  When the boat had
entered the lock, and the gate was closed upon her, the water was let
off with a rapidity which considerably affected her level, and her bows
pointed downwards.  I timed one lock with a fall of fifteen feet.  From
the time the gate was closed behind us until the lower one was opened
for our egress, was exactly one minute and a quarter; and the boat sank
down in the lock so rapidly as to give you the idea that she was
scuttled and sinking.

The country round the Oswego is fertile and beautiful, and the river,
with its islands, falls, and rapids, very picturesque.  At one p.m. we
arrived at the town of Oswego, on Lake Ontario; I was pleased with the
journey, although, what with ducking to bridges, bites from mosquitoes,
and the constant blowing of their unearthly horn with only one note, and
which one must have been borrowed from the gamut of the infernal
regions, I had had enough of it.

For the first time since my arrival in the country, no one--that is to
say, on board the canal-boat--knew who I was.  As we tracked above the
Oswego river, I fell into conversation with a very agreeable person, who
had joined us at Syracuse.  We conversed the whole day, and I obtained
much valuable information from him about the country: when we parted, he
expressed a wish that we should meet again.  He gave me his name and
address, and when I gave my card in return, he looked at it, and then
said, "I am most happy to make your acquaintance, sir; but I will
confess that had I known with whom I had been conversing, I should not
have _spoken so freely_ upon certain points connected with the
government and institutions of this country."  This was American all
over; they would conceal the truth, and then blame us because we do not
find it out.  I met him afterwards, but he never would enter into any
detailed conversation with me.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

Niagara Falls.--Perhaps the wisest, if not the best description of the
Falls of Niagara, is in the simple ejaculation of Mrs Butler; for it is
almost useless to attempt to describe when you feel that language fails;
but if the falls cannot be described, the ideas which are conjured up in
the mind, when we contemplate this wonderful combination of grandeur and
beauty, are often worth recording.  The lines of Mrs Sigourney, the
American poetess, please me most.

  Flow on for ever, in thy glorious robe
  Of terror and of beauty; God hath set
  His rainbow on thy forehead, and the cloud
  Mantles around thy feet.  And he doth give
  Thy voice of thunder power to speak of him
  Eternally--bidding the lip of man
  Keep silence, and upon thy rocky altar pour
  Incense of awe-struck praise.

When the Indian first looked upon the falls, he declared them to be the
dwelling of the Great Spirit.  The savage could not imagine that the
Great Spirit dwelt also in the leaf which he bruised in his hand; but
here it appealed to his senses in thunder and awful majesty, and he was
compelled to acknowledge it.

The effects which the contemplation of these glorious waters produce,
are of course very different, according to one's temperament and
disposition.  As I stood on the brink above the falls, continuing for a
considerable time to watch the great mass of water tumbling, dancing,
capering, and rushing wildly along, as if in a hurry to take the leap
and, delighted at it, I could not help wishing that I too had been made
of such stuff as would have enabled me to have joined it; with it to
have rushed innocuously down the precipice; to have rolled uninjured
into the deep unfathomable gulf below, or to have gambolled in the
atmosphere of spray, which rose again in a dense cloud from its
recesses.  For about half an hour more I continued to watch the rolling
waters, and then I felt a slight dizziness and a creeping sensation come
over me--that sensation arising from strong excitement, and the same,
probably, that occasions the bird to fall into the jaws of the snake.
This is a feeling which, if too long indulged in, becomes irresistible,
and occasions a craving desire to leap into the flood of rushing waters.
It increased upon me every minute; and retreating from the brink, I
turned my eyes to the surrounding foliage, until the effect of the
excitement had passed away.  I looked upon the waters a second time, and
then my thoughts were directed into a very different channel.  I wished
myself a magician, that I might transport the falls to Italy, and pour
their whole volume of waters into the crater of Mount Vesuvius; witness
the terrible conflict between the contending elements, and create the
largest steam-boiler that ever entered into the imagination of man.

I have no doubt that the opinion that these falls have receded a
distance of seven miles is correct; but what time must have passed
before even this tremendous power could have sawed away such a mass of
solid rock!  Within the memory of man it has receded but a few feet--
changed but little.  How many thousand years must these waters have been
flowing and falling, unvarying in their career, and throwing up their
sheets of spray to heaven.

It is impossible for either the eye or the mind to compass the whole
mass of falling water; you cannot measure, cannot estimate its enormous
volume; and this is the reason, perhaps, why travellers often express
themselves disappointed by it.  But fix your eye upon one portion--one
falling and heaving wave out of the millions, as they turn over the edge
of the rocks; watch, I say, this fragment for a few minutes, its regular
time-beating motion never varying or changing; pursuing the laws of
nature with a regularity never ceasing and never tiring; minute after
minute; hour after hour; day after day; year after year, until time
recedes into creation: then cast your eyes over the whole multitudinous
mass which is, and has been, performing the same and coeval duty, and
you feel its vastness!  Still the majesty of the whole is far too great
for the mind to compass--too stupendous for its limited powers of
reception.

Sunday.--I had intended to have passed the whole day at the Falls; but
an old gentleman whose acquaintance I had made in the steam boat on Lake
Ontario, asked me to go to church; and as I felt he would be annoyed if
I did not, I accompanied him to a Presbyterian meeting not far from the
Falls, which sounded like distant thunder.  The sermon was upon
temperance--a favourite topic in America; and the minister rather
quaintly observed, that "alcohol was not sealed by the hand of God."  It
was astonishing to me that he did not allude to the Falls, point out
that the seal of God was there, and shew how feeble was the voice of man
when compared to the thunder of the Almighty so close at hand.  But the
fact was, he had been accustomed to preach every Sunday with the Falls
roaring in his ear, and (when the wind was in a certain quarter,) with
the spray damping the leaves of his sermon: he therefore did not feel as
we did, and, no doubt, thought his sermon better than that from the God
of the elements.

Yes, it is through the elements that the Almighty has ever deigned to
commune with man, or to execute his supreme will, whether it has been by
the wild waters to destroy an impious race--by the fire hurled upon the
doomed cities--by seas divided, that the chosen might pass through
them--by the thunders on Sinai's Mount when his laws were given to man--
by the pillar of fire or the gushing rock, or by the rushing of mighty
winds.  And it is still through the elements that the Almighty speaks to
man, to warn, to terrify, to chasten; to raise him up to wonder, to
praise, and adore.  The forked and blinding lightning which, with the
rapidity of thought, dissolves the union between the body and the soul;
the pealing thunder, announcing that the bolt has sped; the fierce
tornado, sweeping away everything in its career, like a besom of wrath;
the howling storm; the mountain waves; the earth quaking, and yawning
wide, in a second overthrowing the work and pride of centuries, and
burying thousands in a living tomb; the fierce vomiting of the crater,
pouring out its flames of liquid fire, and changing fertility to the
arid rock: it is through these that the Deity still speaks to man; yet
what can inspire more awe of him, more reverence, and more love, than
the contemplation of thy falling waters, great Niagara!



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

Two gentlemen have left their cards, and will be happy to see me on my
route; one lives at Batavia, the other at Pekin.  I recollect going over
the ferry to Brooklyn to visit the Commodore at the Navy Yard; I walked
to where the omnibuses started from, to see if one was going my way.
There were but two on the stand: one was bound to _Babylon_, the other
to _Jericho_.  Buffalo is one of the wonders of America.  It is hardly
to be credited that such a beautiful city could have risen up in the
wilderness in so short a period.  In the year 1814 it was burnt down,
being then only a village; only one house was left standing, and now it
is a city with twenty-five thousand inhabitants.  The Americans are very
judicious in planning their new towns; the streets are laid out so wide
that there will never be any occasion to pull down to widen and improve,
as we do in England.  The city of Buffalo is remarkably well built; all
the houses in the principal streets are lofty and substantial, and are
either of brick or granite.  The main street is wider, and the stores
handsomer, than the majority of those in New York.  It has five or six
very fine churches, a handsome theatre, town-hall, and market, and three
or four hotels, one of which is superior to most others in America; and
to these we must add a fine stone pier, with a lighthouse, and a harbour
full of shipping and magnificent steam-boats.  It is almost
incomprehensible, that all this should have been accomplished since the
year 1814.  And what has occasioned this springing up of a city in so
short a time as to remind you of Aladdin's magic palace?--the Erie
Canal, which here joins the Hudson River with the Lake, passing through
the centre of the most populous and fertile States.

At present, however, the business of Buffalo, as well as of every other
city, is nearly at a stand-still; the machinery of America is under
repair, and until that repair is completed, the country will remain
paralysed.  America may just now be compared to one of her own
steamboats, which, under too high pressure, has burst her boiler.  Some
of her passengers have (in a commercial point of view) been killed
outright, others severely injured, and her progress has for a time been
stopped: but she will soon be enabled to go a-head again as fast as
ever, and will then probably pay a little more attention to her
safety-valve.

I went out to the Indian reservation, granted to the remnant of the
Seneca tribe of Indians, once a portion of the Mohawks, and all that now
remains in the United States of the famed six nations.  The chief of
them (Red Jacket), lately dead, might be considered as the last of the
Mohicans.  I had some conversation with his daughter, who was very
busily employed in the ornamenting of a pair of mocassins, and then
visited the tomb, or rather the spot, where her father was buried,
without name or record.  This omission has since been repaired, and a
tablet is now raised over his grave.  It is creditable to the profession
that the "poor player," as Shakespeare hath it, should be the foremost
to pay tribute to worth.  Cooke, the tragedian, was lying without a
stone to mark his resting-place, when Kean came to America, found out
the spot, and raised a handsome cenotaph to his memory; and it is to Mr
Placide, one of the very best of American actors, that Red Jacket is
indebted for the tablet which has been raised to rescue his narrow home
from oblivion.

Red Jacket was a great chief and a great man, but, like most of the
Indians, he could not resist the temptations of alcohol, and was during
the latter part of his life very intemperate.  When Red Jacket was
sober, he was the proudest chief that ever walked, and never would
communicate even with the highest of the American authorities but
through his interpreter; but when intoxicated, he would speak English
and French fluently, and then the proud Indian warrior, the most
eloquent of his race, the last chief of the six nations, would demean
himself by begging for a sixpence to buy more rum.

I must now revert to the singular causes by which, independent of
others, such as locality, etcetera, Buffalo was so rapidly brought to a
state of perfection--not like many other towns which, commencing with
wooden houses, gradually supersede them by brick and stone.  The person
who was the cause of this unusual rise was a Mr Rathbun, who now lies
incarcerated in a gaol of his own building.  It was he who built all the
hotels, churches, and other public edifices; in fact, every structure
worthy of observation in the whole town was projected, contracted for,
and executed by Mr Rathbun.  His history is singular.  Of quiet,
unassuming manners, Quaker in his dress, moderate in all his expenses,
(except in charity, wherein, assisted by an amiable wife, he was very
liberal) he concealed under this apparent simplicity and goodness a mind
capable of the vastest conceptions, united with the greatest powers of
execution.  He undertook contracts, and embarked in building
speculations, to an amount almost incredible.  Rathbun undertook every
thing, and every thing undertaken by Rathbun was well done.  Not only at
Buffalo, but at Niagara and other places, he was engaged in raising vast
buildings, when the great crash occurred, and Rathbun, with others, was
unable to meet his liabilities.  Then, for the first time, it was
discovered that for more than five years he had been conniving at a
system of forgery, to the amount of two millions of dollars: the forgery
consisted in putting to his bills the names of responsible parties as
indorsers, that they might be more current.  It does not appear that he
ever intended to defraud, for he took up all his notes as fast as they
became due; and it was this extreme regularity on his part which
prevented the discovery of his fraud for so unusually long a period.  It
is surmised, that had not the general failure taken place, he would have
eventually withdrawn all these forged bills from the market, and have
paid all his creditors, reserving for himself a handsome fortune.  It is
a singular event in the annals of forgery, that this should have been
carried on undiscovered for so unprecedented a time.  Mr Rathbun is to
be tried as an accessory, as it was his brother who forged the names.
As soon as it was discovered, the latter made his escape, and he is said
to have died miserably in a hovel on the confines of Texas.

Embarked on board of the Sandusky, for Detroit.  As we were steering
clear of the pier, a small brig of about two hundred tons burthen was
pointed out to me as having been the _flag-ship_ of Commodore Barclay,
in the action upon Lake Erie.  The appearance of Buffalo from the Lake
is very imposing.  Stopped at Dunkirk to put some emigrants on shore.
As they were landing, I watched them carefully counting over their
little property, from the iron tea-kettle to the heavy chest.  It was
their whole fortune, and invaluable to them; the nest-egg by which, with
industry, their children were to rise to affluence.  They remained on
the wharf as we shoved off, and no wonder that they seemed embarrassed
and at a loss.  There was the baby in the cradle, the young children
holding fast to their mother's skirt, while the elder had seated
themselves on a log, and watched the departure of the steam-vessel;--the
bedding, cooking utensils, etcetera, all lying in confusion, and all to
be housed before night.  Weary did they look, and weary indeed they
were, and most joyful would they be when they at last should gain their
resting-place.  It appears from the reports sent in, that upwards of
100,000 emigrants pass to the west every year by the route of the Lakes,
of which it is estimated that about 30,000 are from Europe, the
remainder migrating from the eastern States of the Union.

I may keep a log now.--5 AM Light breezes and clear weather, land
trending from South to South South West.  Five sail in the offing.

At 6 AM, ran into Grand River.  Within these last two years, three towns
have sprung up here, containing between them about three thousand
inhabitants.

How little are they aware, in Europe, of the vastness and extent of
commerce carried on in these inland seas whose coasts are now lined with
flourishing towns and cities, and whose waters are ploughed by
magnificent steam-boats, and hundreds of vessels laden with merchandise.
Even the Americans themselves are not fully aware of the rising
importance of these Lakes as connected with the West.  Since the
completion of the Ohio Canal, which enters the Lake Erie at Cleveland,
that town has risen almost as rapidly as Buffalo.  It is beautifully
situated.  It is about six years back that it may be said to have
commenced its start, and it now contains more than ten thousand
inhabitants.  The buildings are upon the same scale as those of Buffalo,
and it is conjectured with good reason, that it will become even a
larger city than the other, as the ice breaks up here and the navigation
is open in the spring, six weeks sooner than it is at Buffalo; abreast
of which town the ice is driven down and collected, previous to its
forcing its passage over the falls.

Erie, which was the American naval depot during the war, has a fine bay,
but it is now falling into insignificance: it has a population of about
one thousand.

Sandusky is a fast-rising town, beautifully situated upon the verge of a
small prairie; it is between Sandusky and Huron that the prairie lands
commence.  The bay of Sandusky is very picturesque, being studded with
small verdant islands.  On one of these are buried in the same grave all
those who fell in the hard-fought battle of the Lakes, between Perry and
Barclay, both of whom have since followed their companions.

Toledo is the next town of consequence on the Lake.  It is situated at
the mouth of the Miami River; and as a railroad has already been
commenced across the isthmus, so as to avoid going round the whole
peninsula of Michigan, it is fast rising into importance.  Three years
ago the land was purchased at a dollar and a-half per acre; now, it is
selling for building lots at one hundred dollars per foot.  They handed
me a paper printed in this town called "The Toledo Blade;" a not
inappropriate title, though rather a bold one for an editor to write up
to, as his writings ought to be very _sharp_, and, at the same time,
extremely _well-tempered_.

The American government have paid every attention to their inland
waters.  The harbours, light-houses, piers, etcetera, have all been
built at the expense of government, and every precaution has been taken
to make the navigation of the Lakes as safe as possible.

In speaking of the new towns rising so fast in America, I wish the
reader to understand that, if he compares them with the country towns of
the same population in England, he will not do them.  In the smaller
towns of England you can procure but little, and you have to send to
London for any thing good: in the larger towns, such as Norwich,
etcetera, you may procure most things; but, still, luxuries must usually
be obtained from the metropolis.  But in such places as Buffalo and
Cleveland, every thing is to be had that you can procure at New York or
Boston.  In those two towns on Lake Erie are stores better furnished,
and handsomer, than any shops at Norwich, in England; and you will find,
in either of them, articles for which, at Norwich, you would be obliged
to send to London.  It is the same thing at almost every town in America
with which communication is easy.  Would you furnish a house in one of
them, you will find every article of furniture--carpets, stoves, grates,
marble chimney-pieces, pier-glasses, pianos, lamps, candelabra, glass,
china, etcetera, in twice the quantity, and in greater variety, than at
any provincial town in England.

This arises from the system of credit extended through every vein and
artery of the country, and by which English goods are forced, as if with
a force-pump, into every available depot in the Union; and thus, in a
town so newly raised, that the stumps of the forest-trees are not only
still surrounding the houses, but remain standing in the cellars, you
will find every luxury that can be required.  It may be asked what
becomes of all these goods.  It must be recollected that hundreds of new
houses spring up every year in the towns, and that the surrounding
country is populous and wealthy.  In the farmhouses--mean-looking and
often built of logs--is to be found not only comfort, but very often
luxury.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

The French never have succeeded as colonists, and their want of success
can only be ascribed to an amiable want of energy.  When located at any
spot, if a Frenchman has enough, he seeks no more; and, instead of
working as the Englishman or the American does, he will pass his time
away, and spend his little surplus in social amusements.  The town of
Detroit was founded as early as the city of Philadelphia, but,
favourably as it is situated, it never until lately rose to any thing
more than, properly speaking, a large village.  There is not a paved
street in it, or even a foot-path for a pedestrian.  In winter, in rainy
weather, you are up to your knees in mud; in summer, invisible from
dust: indeed, until lately, there was not a practicable road for thirty
miles round Detroit.  The muddy and impassable state of the streets has
given rise to a very curious system of making morning or evening calls.
A small one-horse cart is backed against the door of a house; the ladies
dressed get into it, and seat themselves upon a buffalo skin at the
bottom of it; they are carried to the residence of the party upon whom
they wish to call; the cart is backed in again, and they are landed dry
and clean.  An old inhabitant of Detroit complained to me that people
were now getting so proud, that many of them refused to visit in that
way any longer.  But owing to the rise of the other towns on the lake,
the great increase of commerce, and Michigan having been admitted as a
State into the Union, with Detroit as its capital, a large Eastern
population has now poured into it, and Detroit will soon present an
appearance very different from its present, and become one of the most
flourishing cities of America.  Within these last six years it has
increased its population from two to ten thousand.  The climate here is
the very best in America, although the State itself is unhealthy.  The
land near the town is fertile.  A railroad from Detroit already extends
thirty miles through the State; and now that the work has commenced, it
will be carried on with the usual energy of the Americans.

Left Detroit in the Michigan steam-vessel for Mackinaw; passed through
the Lake St Clair, and entered Lake Huron; stopped at a solitary wharf
to take in wood, and met there with a specimen of American politeness or
(if you please) independence in the gentleman who cut down and sold it.
Without any assignable motive, he called out to me, "You are a damned
fool of an Englishman;" for which, I suppose, I ought to have been very
much obliged to him.

Miss Martineau has not been too lavish in her praises of Mackinaw.  It
has the appearance of a fairy isle floating on the water, which is so
pure and transparent that you may see down to almost any depth; and the
air above is as pure as the water, so that you feel invigorated as you
breathe it.  The first reminiscence brought to my mind after I had
landed, was the description by Walter Scott of the island and residence
of Magnus Troil and his daughters Minna and Brenda, in the novel of the
"Pirate."

The low buildings, long stores, and out-houses full of nets, barrels,
masts, sails, and cordage; the abundance of fish lying about; the
rafters of the houses laden with dried and smoked meat; and the full and
jolly proportions of most of the inhabitants, who would have rivalled
Scott's worthy in height and obesity, immediately struck my eye; and I
might have imagined myself transported to the Shetland isle, had it not
been for the lodges of the Indians on the beach, and the Indians
themselves either running about, or lying stripped in the porches before
the whisky stores.

I inquired of one of the islanders, why all the white residents were
generally such large portly men, which they are at a very early age; he
replied, "We have good air, good water, and what we eat agrees with us."
This was very conclusive.

I enquired of another, if people lived to a good old age in the island;
his reply was quite American--"I guess they do; if people want to die,
they can't die here--they're obliged to go elsewhere."

Wandering among the Indian lodges (wigwams is a term not used
now-a-days), I heard a sort of flute played in one of them, and I
entered.  The young Indian who was blowing on it, handed it to me.  It
was an imperfect instrument, something between a flute and a clarionet,
but the sound which it gave out was soft and musical.  An islander
informed me that it was the only sort of musical instrument which the
Northern tribes possessed, and that it was played upon by the young men
only when they were _in love_.  I suspected at first that he was
bantering me, but I afterwards found that what he said was true.  The
young Indian must have been very deeply smitten, for he continued to
play all day and all night, during the time that I was there.

  "If music be the food of love, play on."

Started in a birch canoe for Sault St Marie, a small town built under
the rapids of that name, which pour out a portion of the waters of Lake
Superior.  Two American gentlemen, one a member of Congress, and the
other belonging to the American Fur Company, were of the party.  Our
crew consisted of five Canadian half-breeds--a mixture between the
Indian and the white, which spoils both.  It was a lovely morning; not a
breath of air stirred the wide expanse of the Huron, as far as the eye
could scan; and the canoe, as it floated along side of the
landing-place, appeared as if it were poised in the air, so light did it
float, and so clear and transparent are these northern waters.  We
started, and in two hours arrived at Goose Island, unpoetical in its
name, but in itself full of beauty.  As you stand on the beach, you can
look down through the water on to the shelving bottom, bright with its
variety of pebbles, and trace it almost as far off as if it had not been
covered with water at all.  The island was small, but gay as the gayest
of parterres, covered with the sweet wild rose in full bloom (certainly
the most fragrant rose in the world), blue campanellos, yellow
exeranthemums, and white ox-eyed daisies.  Underneath there was a
perfect carpet of strawberries, ripe, and inviting you to eat them,
which we did, while our Canadian brutes swallowed long strings of raw
salt pork.  And yet, in two months hence, this lovely little spot will
be but one mass of snow--a mound rising above to serve as a guide to the
chilled traveller who would find his way over the frozen expanse of the
wide Huron Lake.

As soon as our Canadians had filled themselves to repletion with raw
pork, we continued our route that we might cross the lake and gain the
detour, or point which forms the entrance of the river St Marie, before
it was dark.  We arrived a little before sunset, when we landed, put up
our light boat, and bivouacked for the night.  As soon as we put our
feet on shore, we were assailed by the mosquitoes in myriads.  They
congregated from all quarters in such numbers, that you could only see
as if through a black veil, and you could not speak without having your
mouth filled with them.  But in ten minutes we had a large fire, made,
not of logs or branches, but of a dozen small trees.  The wind eddied,
and the flame and smoke, as they rose in masses, whirled about the
mosquitoes right and left, and in every quarter of the compass, until
they were fairly beaten off to a respectable distance.  We supped upon
lake-trout and fried ham; and rolling ourselves up in our Mackinaw
blankets, we were soon fast asleep.

There was no occasion to call us the next morning.  The Canadians were
still snoring, and had let the fires go down.  The mosquitoes, taking
advantage of this neglect, had forced their way into the tent, and
sounded the reveille in our ears with their petty trumpets; following up
the summons with the pricking of pins, as the fairies of Queen Mab are
reported to have done to lazy housemaids.  We kicked up our half-breeds,
who gave us our breakfast, stowed away the usual quantity of raw pork,
and once more did we float on the water in a piece of birch bark.  The
heat of the sun was oppressive, and we were broiled; but we dipped our
hands in the clear cool stream as we skimmed along, listening to the
whistling of the solitary loon as it paddled away from us, or watching
the serrated back of the sturgeon, as he rolled lazily over and showed
above the water.  Now and then we stopped, and the silence of the desert
was broken by the report of our fowling-pieces, and a pigeon or two was
added to our larder.  At noon a breeze sprung up, and we hoisted our
sail, and the Canadians who had paddled dropped asleep as we glided
quietly along under the guidance of the "timonier."

After you have passed through the river St Clair, and entered the Huron
lake, the fertility of the country gradually disappears.  Here and there
indeed, especially on the Canadian side, a spot more rich than the soil
in general is shewn by the large growth of the timber; but the northern
part of the Lake Huron shores is certainly little fit for cultivation.
The spruce fir now begins to be plentiful; for, until you come to the
upper end of the lake, they are scarce, although very abundant in Upper
Canada.  The country wears the same appearance all the way up to the
Sault St Marie, shewing maple and black poplar intermingled with fir:
the oak but rarely appearing.  The whole lake from Mackinaw to the
Detour is studded with islands.  A large one at the entrance of the
river is called St Joseph's.  The Hudson Bay Company had a station
there, which is now abandoned, and the island has been purchased, or
granted, to an English officer, who has partly settled it.  It is said
to be the best land in this region, but still hardly fit for
cultivation.  It was late before our arrival at the Sault, and we were
obliged to have recourse to our paddles, for the wind had died away.  As
the sun went down, we observed a very curious effect from the refraction
of tints, the water changing to a bright violet every time that it was
disturbed by the paddles.  I have witnessed something like this just
after sunset on the Lake of Geneva.

We landed at dusk, much fatigued; but the Aurora Borealis flashed in the
heavens, spreading out like a vast plume of ostrich feathers across the
sky, every minute changing its beautiful and fanciful forms.  Tired as
we were, we watched it for hours before we could make up our minds to go
to bed.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

Sault St Marie--Our landlord is a very strange being.  It appears that
he has been annoyed by some traveller, who has published a work in which
he has found fault with the accommodations at Sault St Marie, and
spoken very disrespectfully of our host's beds and bed-furniture.  I
have never read the work, but I am so well aware how frequently
travellers fill up their pages with fleas, and "such small gear," that I
presume the one in question was short of matter to furnish out his book;
yet it was neither just nor liberal on his part to expect at Sault St
Marie, where, perhaps, not five travellers arrive in the course of a
year, the same accommodations as at New York.  The bedsteads certainly
were a little rickety, but every thing was very clean and comfortable.
The house was not an inn, nor, indeed, did it pretend to be one, but the
fare was good and well cooked, and you were waited upon by the host's
two pretty modest daughters--not only pretty, but well-informed girls;
and, considering that this village is the Ultima Thule of this portion
of America, I think that a traveller might have been very well content
with things as they were.  In two instances, I found in the log-houses
of this village complete editions of Lord Byron's works.

Sault St Marie contains, perhaps, fifty houses, mostly built of logs,
and has a palisade put up to repel any attack of the Indians.

There are two companies of soldiers quartered here.  The rapids from
which the village takes its name are just above it; they are not strong
or dangerous, and the canoes descend them twenty times a day.  At the
foot of the rapids the men are constantly employed in taking the white
fish in scoop nets, as they attempt to force their way up into Lake
Superior.  The majority of the inhabitants here are half-breeds.  It is
remarkable that the females generally improve, and the males degenerate,
from the admixture of blood.  Indian wives are here preferred to white,
and perhaps with reason--they make the best wives for poor men; they
labour hard, never complain, and a day of severe toil is amply
recompensed by a smile from their lord and master in the evening.  They
are always faithful and devoted, and very sparing of their talk, all
which qualities are considered as recommendations in this part of the
world.

It is remarkable, that although the Americans treat the negro with
contumely, they have a respect for the red Indian: a well-educated
half-bred Indian is not debarred from entering into society; indeed,
they are generally received with great attention.  The daughter of a
celebrated Indian chief brings heraldry into the family, for the Indians
are as proud of their descent (and with good reason) as we, in Europe,
are of ours.  The Randolph family in Virginia still boast of their
descent from Pocahontas, the heroine of one of the most remarkable
romances in real life which was ever heard of.

The whole of this region appears to be incapable of cultivation, and
must remain in its present state, perhaps, for centuries to come.  The
chief produce is from the lakes; trout and white fish are caught in
large quantities, salted down, and sent to the west and south.  At
Mackinaw alone they cure about two thousand barrels, which sell for ten
dollars the barrel; at the Sault, about the same quantity; and on Lake
Superior, at the station of the American Fur Company, they have
commenced the fishing, to lessen the expenses of the establishment, and
they now salt down about four thousand barrels; but this traffic is
still in its infancy, and will become more profitable as the west
becomes more populous.  Be it here observed that, although the Canadians
have the same rights and the same capabilities of fishing, I do not
believe that one barrel is cured on the Canadian side.  As the American
fish is prohibited in England, it might really become an article of
exportation from the Canadas to a considerable amount.

There is another source of profit, which is the collecting of the maple
sugar; and this staple, if I may use the term, is rapidly increasing.
At an average, the full grown maple-tree will yield about five pounds of
sugar each tapping, and, if carefully treated, will last forty years.
All the State of Michigan is supplied from this quarter with this sugar,
which is good in quality, and refines well.  At Mackinaw they receive
about three hundred thousand pounds every year.  It may be collected in
any quantity from their vast wildernesses of forests, and although the
notion may appear strange, it is not impossible that one day the
Northern sugar may supersede that of the Tropics.  The island of St
Joseph, which I have mentioned, is covered with large maple trees, and
they make a great quantity upon that spot alone.

I was amused by a reply given me by an American in office here.  I asked
how much his office was worth, and his answer was six hundred dollars,
besides _stealings_.  This was, at all events, frank and honest; in
England the word would have been softened down to perquisites.  I
afterwards found that it was a common expression in the States to say a
place was worth so much besides cheatage.

In all this country, from Mackinaw to the Sault, hay is very scarce;
and, during the short summer season, the people go twenty or thirty
miles in their canoes to any known patch of prairie or grass land to
collect it.  Nevertheless, they are very often obliged, during the
winter, to feed their cattle upon fish, and, strange to say, they
acquire a taste for it.  You will see the horses and cows disputing for
the offal; and our landlord told me that he has often witnessed a
particular horse wait very quietly while they were landing the fish from
the canoes, watch his opportunity, dart in, steal one, and _run away
with it in his mouth_.

A mutiny among our lazzaroni of half-breeds, they refuse to work today,
because they are tired, they say, and we are obliged to procure others.
Carried our canoe over the pasturage into the canal, and in five minutes
were on the vast inland sea of Lake Superior.  The waters of this lake
are, if possible, more transparent than those of the Huron, or rather
the variety and bright colours of the pebbles and agates which lie at
the bottom, make them appear so.  The appearance of the coast, and the
growth of timber, are much the same as on Lake Huron, until you arrive
at Gros Cape, a bold promontory, about three hundred feet high.  We
ascended this cape, to have a full view of the expanse of water: this
was a severe task, as it was nearly perpendicular, and we were forced to
cling from tree to tree to make the ascent.  In addition to this
difficulty, we were unremittingly pursued by the mosquitoes, which
blinded us so as to impede our progress, being moreover assisted in
their malevolent attacks by a sort of sand-fly, that made triangular
incisions behind our ears, exactly like a small leech bite, from which
the blood trickled down two or three inches as soon as the little wretch
let go his hold.  This variety of stinging made us almost mad, and we
descended quite exhausted, the blood trickling down our faces and necks.
We threw off our clothes, and plunged into the lake; the water was too
cold; the agates at the bottom cut our feet severely, and thus were we
phlebotomised from head to foot.

There is a singular geological feature at this cape; you do not perceive
it until you have forced your way through a belt of firs, which grow at
the bottom and screen it from sight.  It is a ravine in which the rocks
are pouring down from the top to the bottom, all so equal in size, and
so arranged, as to wear the appearance of a cascade of stones; and when,
half blinded by the mosquitoes, you look upon them, they appear as if
they are actually in motion, and falling down in one continued stream.
We embarked again, and after an hour's paddling landed upon a small
island, where was the tomb of an Indian chief or warrior.  It was in a
beautiful spot, surrounded by the wild rose, blue peas, and campanellas.
The kinnakinnee, or weed which the Indians smoke as tobacco, grew
plentifully about it.  The mound of earth was surrounded by a low
palisade, about four feet wide and seven feet long, and at the head of
it was the warrior's pole, with eagle feathers, and notches denoting the
number of scalps he had taken from the enemy.

The Hudson Bay and American Fur Companies both have stations on Lake
Superior, on their respective sides of the lake, and the Americans have
a small schooner which navigates it.  There is one question which the
traveller cannot help asking himself as he surveys the vast mass of
water, into which so many rivers pour their contributions, which is--In
what manner is all this accumulation of water carried off?  Except by a
very small evaporation in the summer time, and the outlet at Sault St
Marie, where the water which escapes is not much more than equal to two
or three of the rivers which feed the lake, there is no apparent means
by which the water is carried off.  The only conclusion that can be
arrived at is, that when the lake rises above a certain height, as the
soil around is sandy and porous, the surplus waters find their way
through it; and such I believe to be the case.

We saw no bears.  They do not come down to the shores, (or travel, as
they term it here,) until the huckleberries are ripe.  We were told that
a month later there would be plenty of them.  It is an ascertained fact,
that the bears from this region migrate to the west every autumn, but it
is not known when they return.  They come down to the eastern shores of
the Lakes Superior and Huron, swim the lakes and rivers from island to
island, never deviating from their course, till they pass through by
Wisconsin to the Missisippi.  Nothing stops them; the sight of a canoe
will not prevent their taking the water; and the Indians in the River
St Marie have been known to kill fifteen in one day.  It is singular
that the bears on the other side of the Missisippi are said to migrate
to the east, exactly in the contrary direction.  Perhaps the Missisippi
is their fashionable watering-place.

A gathering storm induced us to return, instead of continuing our
progress on the lake.  A birch canoe in a gale of wind on Lake Superior,
would not be a very insurable risk.  On our return, we found our
half-breeds very penitent, for had we not taken them back, they would
have stood a good chance of wintering there.  But we had had advice as
to the treatment of these lazy gluttonous scoundrels, who swallowed long
pieces of raw pork the whole of the day, and towards evening were, from
repletion, hanging their heads over the sides of the canoe and quite
ill.  They had been regaled with pork and whisky going up; we gave them
salt fish and a broomstick by way of variety on their return, and they
behaved very well under the latter fare.

We started again down with the stream, and the first night took up our
quarters on a prairie spot, where they had been making hay, which was
lying in cocks about us.  To have a soft bed we carried quantities into
our tent, forgetting that we disturbed the mosquitoes who had gone to
bed in the hay.  We smoked the tent to drive them out again; but in
smoking the tent we set fire to the hay, and it ended in a
conflagration.  We were burnt out, and had to re-pitch our tent.

I was sauntering by the side of the river when I heard a rustling in the
grass, and perceived a garter snake, an elegant and harmless little
creature, about a foot and a half long.  It had a small toad in its
mouth, which it had seized by the head: but it was much too large for
the snake to swallow, without leisure and preparation.  I was amused at
the precaution, I may say invention of the toad, to prevent its being
swallowed: it had inflated itself, till it was as round as a bladder,
and upon this, issue was joined--the snake would not let go, the toad
would not be swallowed.  I lifted up the snake by the tail and threw
them three or four yards into the river.  The snake rose to the surface,
as majestic as the great sea serpent in miniature, carrying his head
well out of the water, with the toad still in his mouth, reminding me of
Caesar with his Commentaries.  He landed close to my feet; I threw him
in again, and this time he let go the toad, which remained floating and
inanimate an the water; but after a time he discharged his superfluous
gas, and made for the shore; while the snake, to avoid me, swam away
down with the current.

The next morning it blew hard, and as we opened upon Lake Huron, we had
to encounter a heavy sea; fortunately, the wind was fair for the island
of Mackinaw, or we might have been delayed for some days.  As soon as we
were in the Lake we made sail, having fifty-six miles to run before it
was dark.  The gale increased, but the canoe flew over the water,
skimming it like a sea bird.  It was beautiful, but not quite so
pleasant, to watch it, as, upon the least carelessness on the part of
the helmsman, it would immediately have filled.  As it was, we shipped
some heavy seas, but the blankets at the bottom being saturated, gave us
the extra ballast which we required.  Before we were clear of the
islands, we were joined by a whole fleet of Indian canoes, with their
dirty blankets spread to the storm, running, as we were, for Mackinaw,
being on their return from Maniton Islands, where they had congregated
to receive presents from the Governor of Upper Canada.  Their canoes
were, most of them, smaller than ours, which had been built for speed,
but they were much higher in the gunnel.  It was interesting to behold
so many hundreds of beings trusting themselves to such fragile
conveyances, in a heavy gale and running sea; but the harder it blew,
the faster we went; and at last, much to my satisfaction, we found
ourselves in smooth water again, alongside of the landing wharf at
Mackinaw.  I had had some wish to see a freshwater gale of wind, but in
a birch canoe I never wish to try the experiment again.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

Mackinaw.--I mentioned that, in my trip to Lake Superior, I was
accompanied by a gentleman attached to the American Fur Company, who
have a station at this island.  I was amusing myself in their
establishment, superintending the unpacking and cleaning of about forty
or fifty bales of skins, and during the time collected the following
information.  It is an average computation of the furs obtained every
year, and the value of each to the American Fur Company.  The Hudson Bay
Company are supposed to average about the same quantity, or rather more;
and they have a larger proportion of valuable furs, such as beaver and
sable, but they have few deer and no buffalo.  When we consider how
sterile and unfit for cultivation are these wild northern regions, it
certainly appears better that they should remain as they are:--

+====================+=======+====================+
YSkins.              Y       YAverage value.      Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YDeer, four varietiesY150,000Y45 cents per lb.    Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YBuffalo             Y 35,000Y5 dollars per skin  Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YElk                 Y    200Y                    Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YBeaver              Y 15,000Y4.5 dollars per lb. Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YMusk Rat            Y500,000Y12 cents per skin   Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YOtters              Y  5,000Y6.5 dollars per skinY
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
Y                    Y  2,500Y2 do.               Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YMartin or Sable     Y 12,000Y2 do. or more       Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YMink                Y 10,000Y                    Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YSilver and Black FoxY     15Y                    Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YCrop Fox            Y    100Y4 dollars per skin  Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YRed Fox             Y  3,000Y1 do.               Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YGrey Fox            Y  1,000Y1.5 do.             Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YPrairie Fox         Y  5,000Y.5 do.              Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YBears               Y  4,000Y4.5 do.             Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YLynx                Y    500Y2.5 do.             Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YWild Cat            Y  2,000Y2.5 do.             Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YRacoon              Y 70,000Y.5 do.              Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YWolves              Y 12,000Y.5 do.              Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YWolverein           Y     50Y2.5 do.             Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YPanthers            Y     50Y                    Y
+--------------------+-------+--------------------+
YBadgers             Y    250Y.25 do.             Y
+====================+=======+====================+

besides skunks, ground-hogs, hares, and many others.  These are priced
at the lowest: in proportion as the skins are finer, so do they yield
higher profit.  The two companies may be said to receive, between them,
skins yearly to the amount of from two to three millions of dollars.

FABLE APROPOS TO THE SUBJECT.

A hare and a fox met one day on the vast prairie, and after a long
conversation, they prepared to start upon their several routes.  The
hare, pleased with the fox, lamented that they would in all probability
separate for ever.  "No, no," replied the fox, "we shall meet again,
never fear."  "Where?" inquired his companion.  "In the _hatter's shop_,
to be sure," rejoined the fox, tripping lightly away.

_Detroit_.--There are some pleasant people in this town, and the society
is quite equal to that of the eastern cities.  From the constant change
and transition which take place in this country, go where you will you
are sure to fall in with a certain portion of intelligent, educated
people.  This is not the case in the remoter portions of the Old
Continent, where every thing is settled, and generation succeeds
generation, as in some obscure country town.  But in America, where all
is new, and the country has to be peopled from the other parts, there is
a proportion of intelligence and education transplanted with the
inferior classes, either from the Eastern States or from the Old World,
in whatever quarter you may happen to find yourself.

Left my friends at Detroit with regret, and returned to Buffalo.  There
is a marked difference between the behaviour of the lower people of the
eastern cities and those whom you fall in with in this town: they are
much less civil in their behaviour here; indeed, they appear to think
rudeness a proof of independence.  I went to the theatre, and the
behaviour of the majority of the company just reminded me of the
Portsmouth and Plymouth theatres.  I had forgotten that Buffalo was a
fresh-water sea-port town.

Returning to Niagara, I took possession of the roof of the rail-coach,
that I might enjoy the prospect.  I had not travelled three miles before
I perceived a strong smell of burning; at last the pocket of my coat,
which was of cotton, burst out into flames, a spark having found its way
into it: fortunately (not being insured) there was no property on the
premises.

When the celebrated Colonel David Crocket first saw a locomotive, with
the train smoking along the rail-road, he exclaimed, as it flew past
him, "Hell in harness, by the 'tarnel!"

I may, in juxtaposition with this, mention an Indian idea.  Nothing
surprised the Indians so much at first, as the percussion for guns: they
thought them the _ne plus ultra_ of invention: when, therefore, an
Indian was first shewn a locomotive, he reflected a little while, and
then said, "I see--_percussion_."

There is a beautiful island, dividing the Falls of Niagara, called Goat
Island: they have thrown a bridge across the rapids, so that you can now
go over.  A mill has already been erected there, which is a great pity;
it is a contemptible disfigurement of nature's grandest work.

At the head of the island, which is surrounded by the rapid

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