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A Ramble of Six Thousand Miles through the United States of America.

by S. A. Ferrall.

PREFACE.

The few sketches contained in this small volume were not originally intended for publication--they were written solely for the amusement of my immediate acquaintances, and were forwarded to Europe in the shape of letters. Subsequent considerations have induced me to publish them; and if they be found to contain remarks on some subjects, which other travellers in America have passed over unnoticed, the end that I have in view will be fully answered.

Although I remained in the seaboard cities sufficiently long to have collected much information; yet knowing that the statistics of those places had been so often and so ably set before the public, I felt no inclination to trouble my friends with their repetition.

In Europe, the name of America is so associated with the idea of emigration, that to announce an intention of crossing the Atlantic, rouses the interfering propensity of friends and acquaintances, and produces such a torrent of queries and remonstrances, as will require a considerable share of moral courage to listen to and resist. All are on the tiptoe of expectation, to hear what the inducements can possibly be for travelling in America. America!! every one exclaims--what can you possibly see there?

A country like America--little better than a mere forest--the inhabitants notoriously far behind Europeans in refinement--filled with wild Indians, rattle-snakes, bears, and backwoodsmen; ferocious hogs and ugly negros; and every other species of noxious and terrific animal!

Without, however, any definite scientific object, or indeed any motive much more important than a love of novelty, I determined on visiting America; within whose wide extent all the elements of society, civilized and uncivilized, were to be found--where the great city could be traced to the infant town--where villages dwindle into scattered farms--and these to the log-house of the solitary backwoodsman, and the temporary wig-wam of the wandering Pawnee.

I have refrained nearly altogether from touching on the domestic habits and manners of the Americans, because they have been treated of by Captain Hall and others; and as the Americans always allowed me to act as I thought proper, and even to laugh at such of their habits as I thought singular, I am by no means inclined to take exception to them.

CHAPTER I.

Following the plan I had laid down for myself, I sought and found a goodly Yankee merchantman, bound for and belonging to the city of New York. Our vessel was manned with a real _American_ crew, that is, a crew, of which scarcely two men are of the same nation--which conveys a tolerably correct notion of the population of the United States. The crew consisted of one Russian, one German, one Italian, one Scotchman, one Newfoundlander, one Irishman, two Englishmen, two New Englanders, and two Negros--the cook and steward. The seamen of America are better paid, and better protected, than those of any other nation; but work harder, and must understand their duty well. Indeed if we had not had a good crew, our ship, being old, might have suffered severely.

In selecting this ship, in addition to accommodations, I only took into account her build; and so far was not disappointed, for when she _could_ carry sail, she scudded along in gallant style; but with ships as with horses, the more they _have done_, the less they have _to do_.

I had a strong impression on my mind that a person travelling in America as a professed tourist, would be unable to form a correct estimate of the real character and condition of the people; for, from their great nationality, they would be likely to show him the best side of every thing. Of this kind of ostentation I very soon had a slight proof. Our ship left port in gallant trim, but had no sooner gained the open sea, than all hands were employed in stowing away the finery, and covering the rigging with mats--even the very cabin doors were taken off the hinges, and brass knobs and other ornaments which appeared to have been fixtures, were unshipped and deposited below, where they remained until our approach to New York, when the finery was again displayed, and all was placed once more _in statu quo_.

For the first twelve days we had rather pleasant weather, and nothing remarkable occurred, unless a swallow coming on board completely exhausted with flying, fatigue made it so tame that it suffered itself to be caressed; it however popped into the coop, and the ducks literally gobbled it up alive. The ducks were, same day, suffered to roam about the decks, and the pigs fell foul of one of them, and eat the breast off it. Passing the cabouse, I heard the negro steward soliloquising, and on looking in, perceived him cutting a hen's throat with the most heartfelt satisfaction, as he grinned and exclaimed, by way of answer to its screams, "Poor feller! I guess I wouldn't hurt you for de world;" I could not help thinking with Leibnitz, that most sapient of philosophers, that this is the best of all possible worlds.

On the thirteenth day we encountered a heavy gale, which continued to increase for four successive days. During this period we were unable to carry more canvass than was barely necessary to render the vessel manageable. A heavy gale, for the first time, is rather interesting than otherwise: the novelty of the sea's appearance--the anxiety of the crew and officers--the promptitude with which commands are given and executed--and the excitement produced by the other incidental occurrences, tend to make even a storm, when encountered in open sea, by no means destitute of pleasing interest. During this gale, the sailors appeared to be more than ordinarily anxious only upon one occasion, and then only for a minute--the circumstance was not calculated to create alarm in the mind of a person totally ignorant of nautical affairs, but being somewhat of a sailor, I understood the danger tolerably well. The helm was struck by a sea, and strained at the bolts; from the concussion occasioned by the blow, it was apprehended for a moment that it had been carried away.

Without a helm, in such weather, much was to be feared; for her timbers being old, she could hardly meet the shock of an ocean wave upon her broadside without suffering serious injury. The helmsman was knocked down--the captain and mate jumped aft, to ascertain the extent of the damage; while the sailors scowled along the deck, as they laid their shoulders to the weather side of the ship--all was anxiety for the instant. At length the mate cried, "helm all right," and the crew pulled away as usual. At the close of the fourth day the storm subsided, and we approached the banks of Newfoundland.

It is generally supposed that the colour of the sea is a sure indication of the presence or absence of soundings; that is, that there are soundings where the water is green, and that there are none where the water is blue. The former is, I believe, true in every instance; but the latter is certainly not so, as the first soundings we got here, were in water as blue as indigo, depth fifty odd fathoms.

We were thirty days crossing these tiresome banks; during which time we were befogged, and becalmed, and annoyed with all sorts of disagreeable weather. The fogs or mists were frequently so dense, that it was impossible to see more than thirty yards from the vessel. This course is not that usually taken by ships bound for the United States, as they generally cross the Atlantic at much lower latitudes, but our captain "calculated" on escaping calms, and avoiding the influence of the Gulf stream, and thus making a quicker passage; he was, however, mistaken, as a packet ship that left Liverpool four days after, arrived at New York sixteen days before us.

We found the thermometer of incalculable service, both for ascertaining when we got into the stream, and for disclosing our dangerous proximity to icebergs. That we had approached near icebergs we discovered one evening to be the case by the mercury falling, suddenly, below 40, in foggy weather. We notwithstanding held on our course, and fortunately escaped accident. Many vessels which depart from port with gallant crews, and are never heard of more, are lost, I am convinced, by fatal collision with these floating islands. From the beginning of spring to the latter end of summer, masses of brash ice are occasionally encountered in these latitudes.

Towards the evening of the fiftieth day we entered the bay of New York: the bay is really beautiful, and at this season (summer) perhaps appeared to the greatest advantage. The numerous islands with which it is interspersed, were covered to the water's edge with foliage and verdure, and here and there studded with handsome villas. The city appeared to be literally surrounded by a thick grove of masts, from which floated the flags of many nations--the scene, thus gradually unfolding itself to the eyes of one who had been for so long a time immured within a vessel, was really fascinating.

While at New York, I staid at the "Pearl-street Boarding-house," and experienced from Messrs. Haskell and Perry, the proprietors, the most polite attention. Most Europeans are astonished at the rapidity with which the Americans despatch their meals; but I, having admitted the proposition, that there was "nothing new under the sun," had long previously ceased to be _astonished_ at any thing. On the first day of my dining at the table d'hote, one of those gentlemen told me, when we sat down to dinner, that most of the persons at table were men of business, who were in the habit of eating much quicker than he knew I was accustomed to, and requested that that might not in the slightest interfere with my habits, but that I should entirely suit my own comfort and convenience.

After that preface, I think I should have been most unreasonable to fall into a passion with the New Yorkers, because they _bolted_ instead of masticating.

New York is altogether a trading place, and different from any thing of the same magnitude in Europe: scarcely a single street is exclusively filled with private residences;--in a mercantile point of view, it is the Liverpool of the United States.

The negros and mulattos constitute a considerable portion of the population. It is impossible to imagine the extreme ugliness of some of the sooty gentry; a decent ourang-outang might, without presumption, vie with many of these people, even of the _fair sex_, and an impartial judge should certainly decide that the said ourang-outang was the handsomer animal. Many of them are wealthy, and dress remarkably well. The females, when their shins and misshapen feet are concealed by long gowns, appear to have good figures. A few days after my arrival, walking down "Broadway"

(the principal street) I was struck with the figure of a fashionably dressed woman, who was sauntering before me. After passing, I turned round, when--O angels and ministers of ugliness!--I beheld a face, as black as soot--a mouth that reached from ear to ear--a nose, like nothing human--and lips a full inch in diameter! On the following morning, whilst dressing at my bed-room window, I heard a squeaking sort of voice warbling forth, "Love was once a little Boy," and "I'd be a Butterfly." The strange _melody_ and unusual intonations induced me to look out, when, to my astonishment, I found that the _fair_ songstress was a most hideous-looking negress! Such are the scenes that constantly present themselves here, and remind a European that he is in a new region.

The white ladies dress fashionably, generally _a la Francoise_; have straight figures, and with the help of a little cotton, judiciously disposed, and sometimes, the smallest possible portion of rouge, contrive to look rather interesting; in general, they are lamentably deficient in _tournure_ and _en-bon-point_. The hands and feet of the greatest belle, are _pas mignon_, and would be termed plebeian by the Anglo-Normans--the aristocracy of England. Yet I have seen many girls extremely handsome indeed, having a delicate bloom and fair skin; but this does not endure long, as the variable nature of the climate--the sudden and violent transitions of temperature which occur on this continent, destroy, in a few years, the complexion of the finest woman. When she arrives at the age of thirty, her skin is shrivelled and discoloured; she is thin, and has all the indications of premature old age. The women of England retain their beauty at least ten years longer than those of America.

The inhabitants of that part of New York nearest the shipping, are extremely sallow and unhealthy looking, and many have a most cadaverous aspect. Malaria certainly exists here in some degree. A man will tell you that the city is perfectly healthy, whilst his own appearance most unquestionably indicates disease. I speak now of the quays and adjacent streets; and the cause is very apparent. The wharfs are faced with wood, and the retiring of the tide exposes a rotten vegetable substance to the action of an almost tropical sun, which, added to the filth that is invariably found in the neighbourhood of shipping, is quite sufficient to produce the degree of unhealthiness that exists. On going up the town, the appearance of the inhabitants gradually improves, and approaching the suburbs, the difference is striking,--in this district I have seen persons as stout and healthy looking as any in England or Ireland.

On the night of my arrival, a fire broke out, by which several extensive warehouses were entirely consumed. There is nothing more remarkable here than the frequent occurrence of this calamity, except the excellent arrangements that are made for arresting its progress. The engines, apparatus, and _corps de pompiers_, are admirably maintained, and the promptitude and regularity with which they arrive at the scene of devastation truly astonishing: indeed, were this not the case, the city must very soon be destroyed; for notwithstanding all their exertions, every conflagration makes it minus several houses, and few nights pass without bringing a misfortune of this nature.

There are several theatres, churches, and other public buildings, dispersed throughout the city. The City Hall, which stands near the upper end of a small enclosure, called the Park, is considered the handsomest building in the United States. It was finished in 1812, and cost half a million dollars.

The police regulations appear not to be so severe as they ought to be, for droves of hogs are permitted to roam about the streets, to the terror of fine ladies, and the great annoyance of all pedestrians.

New York was settled by the Dutch in 1615, and called by them New Amsterdam. In 1634, it was conquered by the English,--retaken by the Dutch in 1673, and restored in 1674. Its present population is estimated at 213,000.

Having heard that the celebrated Frances Wright, authoress of "A Few Days in Athens," was publicly preaching and promulgating her doctrines in the city, I determined on paying the "Hall of Science" a visit, in which establishment she usually lectured. The address she delivered on the evening I attended had been previously delivered on the fourth of July, in the city of Philadelphia; but, at the request of a numerous party of "Epicureans," she was induced to repeat it. The hall might contain perhaps ten or twelve hundred persons, and on this occasion it was filled to excess, by a well-dressed audience of both sexes.

The person of Frances Wright is tall and commanding--her features are rather masculine, and the melancholy cast which her countenance ordinarily assumes gives it rather a harsh appearance--her dark chestnut hair hangs in long graceful curls about her neck; and when delivering her lectures, her appearance is romantic and unique.

She is a speaker of great eloquence and ability, both as to the matter of her orations, and the manner of their delivery. The first sentence she utters rivets your attention; and, almost unconsciously, your sympathies are excited, and you are carried onward by the reasonings and the eloquence of this disciple of the Gardens. The impression made on the audience assembled on that occasion was really wonderful. Once or twice, when I could withdraw my attention from the speaker, I regarded the countenances of those around me, and certainly never witnessed any thing more striking. The high-wrought interest depicted in their faces, added to the breathless silence that reigned throughout the building, made the spectacle the most imposing I ever beheld. She was the Cumaean Sibyl delivering oracles and labouring under the inspiration of the God of Day.--This address was chiefly of a political character, and she took care to flatter the prejudices of the Americans, by occasionally recurring to the advantages their country possessed over European states--namely, the absence of country gentlemen, and of a church establishment; for to the absence of these the Americans attribute a large portion of the very great degree of comfort they enjoy.

Near Hoboken, about three miles up North river, at the opposite side to New York, a match took place between a boat rowed by two watermen, and a canoe paddled by two Indians. The boat was long and narrow, similar in form to those that ply on the Thames. The canoe was of the lightest possible construction, being composed of thin hickory ribs covered with bark. In calm weather, the Indians propel these vessels through the water with astonishing velocity; but when the wind is high, and the water much disturbed, their progress is greatly impeded. It so happened on this day that the water was rough, and consequently unfavourable to the Aborigines.

At the appointed signal the competitors started. For a short distance the Indians kept up with their rivals, but the long heavy pull of the oar soon enabled the boatmen to leave them at a distance. The Indians, true to their character, seeing the contest hopeless, after the first turn, no longer contended for victory; they paddled deliberately back to the starting place, stepped out, and carried their canoe on shore. The superiority of the oar over the paddle was in this contest fully demonstrated.

CHAPTER II.

Having determined on quitting "the London of the States," as my friends the Yankees call New York, I had bag and baggage conveyed on board a steamer bound for Albany. The arrangements and accommodations on board this boat were superb, and surpassed any thing of the kind I ever met with in Europe, on the same scale; and the groups of well-dressed passengers fully indicated the general prosperity of the country.

The distance between New York and Albany is about 165 miles. The scenery on the Hudson is said to be the most beautiful of any in America, and I believe cannot be surpassed in any country. Many of the beauties of rich European scenery are to be found along the banks of that noble river. In the highlands, about fifty miles from New York, is West Point, on which stands a strong fortress, containing an arsenal, a military-school, and a garrison. It is romantically situated among lofty crags and mountains, which rise above the level of the water from 1100 to 1500 feet. There are many handsome country seats and villages between West Point and Hudson, where the river is more than a mile wide.

After a passage of about sixteen or seventeen hours, we arrived at Albany.

The charge for passage, including dinner and tea, was only three dollars; and the day following the cost was reduced, through the spirit of opposition, to one dollar.

Albany is the legislative capital of New York. It is a handsome city, and one of the oldest in the Union. Most of the houses are built of wood, which, when tastefully painted (not often the case) have rather a pleasing appearance. The situation of this city is advantageous, both from the direct communication which it enjoys with the Atlantic, by means of sloops and schooners, and the large tract of back country which it commands. A trade with Canada is established by means of the Erie and Hudson canal.

The capitol, and other public buildings, are large and handsome, and being constructed of either brick or stone, give the city a respectable appearance.

Albany, in 1614, was first settled by the Dutch, and was by them called Orange. On its passing into the hands of the English, in 1664, its present name was given to it, in honour of the Duke of York. It was chartered in 1686.

From Albany I proceeded along the canal, by West Troy and Junction, and near the latter place we came to Cohoe's Falls, on the Mohawk. The river here is about 250 yards wide, which rushing over a jagged and uneven bed of rocks, produces a very picturesque effect. The canal runs nearly parallel with this river from Junction to Utica, crossing it twice, at an interval of seven miles, over aqueducts nearly fifty rods in length, constructed of solid beams of timber. The country is very beautiful, and for the most part well cultivated. The soil possesses every variety of good and bad. The farms along the canal are valuable, land being generally worth from fifty to a hundred dollars per acre.

Above Schenectady, a very ancient town, the bed of the canal gave way, which of course obliged us to come to a dead halt. I hired, for myself and two others, a family waggon (dignified here with the appellation of _carriage_) to take us beyond the break, in expectation of being able to get a boat thence onwards, but unfortunately all the upward-bound boats had proceeded. We were, therefore, obliged to wait until next morning. My fellow travellers having light luggage, got themselves and it into a hut at the other side of the lock; but I, having heavy baggage, which it was impossible to carry across, was compelled to remain on the banks, between the canal and the Mohawk, all night. On the river there were several canoes, with fishermen spearing by torch-light; while on the banks the boatmen and boys, Mulattos and whites, were occupied in gambling. They had tables, candles, dice, and cards. With these, and with a _quantum sufficit_ of spirits, they contrived to while away the time until day-break; of course interlarding their conversation with a reasonable quantity of oaths and imprecations. The breach being repaired early in the morning, the boats came up, and we proceeded to Utica.

Seven miles above Utica is seated Rome, a small and dirty town, bearing no possible resemblance to the "Eternal City," even in its more modern condition, as the residence of the "Triple Prince;" but, on the contrary, having, if one could judge from the habitations, every appearance of squalid poverty. Fifteen miles further on, we passed the Little Falls. It was night when we came to them, but it being moonlight, we had an opportunity of seeing them to advantage. The crags are here stupendous--irregular and massive piles of rocks, from which spring the lofty pine and cedar, are heaped in frightful disorder on each other, and give the scene a terrifically grand appearance.

From Rome to Syracuse, a distance of forty-six miles, the canal is cut through a swampy forest, a great portion of which is composed of dead trees. One of the most dismal scenes imaginable is a forest of charred trees, which is occasionally to be met with in this country, especially in the route by which I was travelling. It is caused by the woods being fired, by accident or otherwise. The aspect of these blasted monuments of ruined vegetation is strange and peculiar; and the air of desertion and desolation which pervades their neighbourhood, reminds one of the stories that are told of the Upas valley of Java, for here too not a bird is to be seen. The smell arising from this swamp in the night, was so bad as to oblige us to shut all the windows and doors of the boat, which, added to the bellowing and croaking of the bull frogs--the harsh and incessant noise of the grasshoppers, and the melancholy cry of the whip-poor-will, formed a combination not of the most agreeable nature. Yet, in defiance of all this, we were induced occasionally to brave the terrors of the night, in order to admire that beautiful insect the fire-fly, or as it is called by the natives, "lightning bug." They emit a greenish phosphorescent light, and are seen at this season in every part of the country. The woods here were full of them, and seemed literally to be studded with small stars, which emitted a bright flickering light.

After you pass Syracuse, the country begins to improve; but still it is low and marshy, and for the most part unhealthy, as the appearance of the people clearly indicates. In this country, as in every other, the canals are generally cut through comparatively low lands, and the low lands here, with few exceptions, are all swampy; however, a great deal of the unhealthiness which pervades this district, arises from want of attention.

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