Part 17
_Thursday, 11th._--This morning took a farewell stroll over St. Helen's, which, on a surface of a mile in length by half a mile in breadth, has all the attractions Nature could devise scattered with a most liberal hand. It is shadowed and scented by a hundred sorts of odorous shrubs and flowers. The groves are filled with birds of beautiful plumage; the graceful blue bird, the enamelled hummer, and the cardinal, with his hood of the brightest scarlet, are for ever on the wing in pursuit of the shad-fly. The pert woodpecker climbs the trees, and along the shores sits the contemplative heron, watching the rapids flowing by, which are, during certain seasons, absolutely alive with fish.
In short, I cannot imagine a more perfect summer abode in such a climate. The aromatic air wafted into one's window on a morning here, made it a delight to open it. The chamber I occupied looked out upon the grassy rampart and over it, affording a sight of the city in its best aspect, and the noble river dividing us from it. Close opposite to my window was a winding path, completely shaded, which led from the fort to the little harbour where the island fleet lies moored; which fleet consisted at this time of an Indian canoe, the soldiers' large market-boat, and the officers' cutter. Some one or other of these were almost constantly on the wing between isle and main; and really it was worth while, once a day, to take a sniff of the fishy atmosphere of the hot city, in order fully to appreciate the advantages of the cool pure air of _la belle île_.
At four P.M. after having taken leave of my island friends, whose attentions had rendered my stay here so delightful, I set off with my old comrade W----w, and Mr. E----r, who had decided upon accompanying me as far on my way as St. John's. We found the La Prairie steamboat quite crowded with the farmers of the continent, on their way home from the market of Montreal: amongst these were some French; but the majority was composed of lowland Scotch and Irish, with a fair proportion of Highlanders.
During our short passage I passed to and fro, below and above, amongst these various specimens of my fellow-subjects, but was at last fairly brought up by the look and gestures of a couple of men engaged in close argument.
The one was a person well stricken in years, with fine white hair straying beneath the broad leaf of his decent beaver hat; he had a keen small eye, well covered by a pair of thick grey eyebrows; with features much wrinkled, but full of intelligence: he was slightly humpbacked, and otherwise bent by the weight of years.
His antagonist was a low, square-built fellow, with a set of blunt features, quick sparkling little eyes, a ruddy complexion, and a broad low brow, over which was set, with a somewhat jaunty air, a blue bonnet. Both were evidently Scotch; the younger disputant, by his high shrill tone and peculiar pronunciation, a true Celt.
I soon discovered "the Glasgow body" was engaged in giving a lecture to the sturdy mountaineer upon the absolute folly of seeking to uphold exclusively the Gaelic tongue: the Highlander, who was head-vestryman in his parish, having, as it came out, lately advertised for a clergyman who could officiate in that ancient language. It may readily be supposed that between such disputants the argument was a warm one.
The Glasgow elder, slow, precise, and very energetic withal, insisted that the land they stood upon was no strangers' land; that they were not expected, like the Israelites of old whilst in a condition of bondage, to hold themselves a people apart; that the English tongue and English laws were lawfully theirs; and that those were the wisest men and the best subjects who learned the first in order that they might neither be ignorant nor forgetful of the last.
The hielan' man admitted, frigidly enough I thought, the present supremacy of English law and language, but insisted that the congregation upon their settlement absolutely needed a Gaelic pastor to preach the word, and no other; for, although all of them understood the Gaelic, full one half knew no word of English!
"More shame for them!" exclaimed the Glasgow man; "what for don't they learn it? Puir prejudiced bodies that they are!"
"What for no?" retorted quickly the nettled Highlander: "why, because they just prefer their ain: and I can't say I wonder at it all; for I know baith, and must aver, Mr. Dalgleish, that my preference is wholly for ta Gaelic, which is a finer language, and a petter and older language, and of a petter and an older nation by far."
"Hoot tout!" coolly responded old Glasgow; "Ye're just daft on thae points, Duncan M'Nab: why, man alive! yer' nae people at hame, much less here, where you are as the least plash flung from the paddle-wheel below us to the braid stream on which it drops to mingle with its waters; a lesson ye may tak profit by. Ye've neither country, nor laws, nor government that owns yer tongue on the whole face o' God's airth, if ever ye had either; whilst the laws and language o' England are at this time universal! ay, sir, universal, or at least mair sae than any one tongue ever yet was since the Lord made men strangers to their fellows at the confounding o' Babel."
"Ta Gaelic was spoken before tat day!" sharply bolted out M'Nab, "and was spoken since tat day by a bigger nation tan England ever was, or ever will be! Tak tat, now, Mr. Dalgleish!"
"Well now, see, Duncan M'Nab," continued the cooler Lowlander, in a tone provokingly unmoved; "that, I'm thinking, must be a matter o' doubt, rather than well-authenticated history; and before I either anger ye by contradicting it, or wrang my ain sense by allowing you the benefit o 't, I'll just seek counsel o' this gentleman, who evidently has a feelin' in our argument, although he taks no part in it by words. What say ye, sir?" he added, directly appealing to me; "shall we allow M'Nab's folk the credit o' havin' given a language to the world more universal than the English tongue?"
"I think you may, my good friend," replied I, thus engaged to speak, and in no way willing to spoil the controversy; "and this without losing any advantage by such an admission, seeing, that if the Gaelic were once so general, I don't think it a matter of credit or congratulation to its people that it is now extinguished, or only kept alive by the patriotic prejudices of a few clansmen in the Hielans and by the ignorance of my own countrymen in portions of Ireland."
"Ha!" cries Glasgow; "that's a hit, sir, and one that didna' occur to my mind! Now, M'Nab, how say ye to this? Why the deevil didna' ye keep yer ground that time ye had it all yer ain way, and no be lettin' strangers win it clean frae ye?"
"Ta' Gaelic was ta language o' Wallace and o' Bruce, and of Cyrus, who came before them," urged the Gael, hotly, "and who will say thae were easy to beat?"
"Who ever said that a Hielanman was easy to beat?" here cannily put in Glasgow: "not that I altogether allow Cyrus, or Wallace, or Bruce to ha' bin Hielanders; though I won't say that they didna' speak Gaelic: but fac's are ill to argue down, and the real fac' o' this matter is, M'Nab, that here Lowlander and Hielander are a' alike English, and it is not our duty alane, but our interest, to foregoe all thae hame prejudices, that have wrought us harm enough, and lang enough, without importing them here, to be left as an evil legacy to our children to keep them as strangers to ane anither."
"Look here, Mr. Dalgleish," demanded M'Nab, "do you admit your belief in election and free grace?"
At this I fairly bolted off the course; but in a few minutes after, whilst preparing to land at La Prairie, my old Glasgow-man sidled along by me, with an inquiry as to my pursuit and my name, in order, he added, that he might remember our pleasant argument, whispering in my ear as we separated,
"Hielanmen are aye weel enough in some particulars, sir; but they're just fairly eat up wi' pride and superstition, and fu' o' prejudices. At hame or abroad it's aye the like; they're of a race that can only be improved by amalgamation and time. I wish you a very pleasant passage hame, sir, and a good evening to you!"
Returning his civility, I was here separated from my elder. In about half an hour after I was about to quit the hotel, in the extra we had engaged for St. John's, when my Hielander, whose warm heart I had won by some honest commendation of his native country, ran up to me to shake hands, saying with a loud laugh,
"Ta old man was a good man, and a well-educated man; but a Glasgow is always a Glasgow; sell his web or his waens for ta money, and carein' as little for either kin or country as does ta cuckoo. God bless you, and if ever you should see Ben Nevis again, think on Duncan M'Nab that will see it no more."
Away ran the active Hielander, after his party, who were proceeding by the shore road, and in a few minutes my companions and myself were jolting at the rate of three miles and a half an hour over the ruts of La Prairie.
It is really surprising to observe how these sons of the Celt adhere to their native tongue, and preserve every early custom that is in any way practicable.
In the mountains of North Carolina there exists a colony of Sutherland Highlanders, two-thirds of whom speak no English, and who possess negroes who only know Gaelic; even within thirty miles of Philadelphia I stumbled upon a family in the third generation, or rather I ought to say, found the three generations together. The children tottering before the doors had, as had their fathers before them, a duck-puddle to wade in, with a dung-heap "quite convanient" to sun themselves upon in common with the pigs and fowls, and they were all lisping the Gaelic tongue with the most unsophisticated ignorance of any other whatever.
On one or two occasions I considered our present journey about to be concluded by an overturn into the canal, along whose bank we rolled most critically, as we neared our harbour; we were, however, landed in due time all safe, and procured a very good supper.
_Friday, 12th._--Left St. John's with a couple of gentlemen in canoe for Île aux Nois, there to abide the coming of the steam-boat. The heat was intense, but our canoe-men were a pair of lusty old lads, Canadians, and they pulled us up stream merrily at the rate of six miles an hour, keeping close beneath the trees growing out of the lake, here a narrow channel merely.
We found Fort Lennox garrisoned by a party of the 32nd regiment, under the command of Major Swinburne, who was resident here with his family. The fort is regularly and well built, and the defences are in excellent order, save that the facing of the ditch, being of wood, is tumbling in at most points, to the great danger of the foundation. As this place is considered worthy a garrison, it would be as well that this ditch should be faced with stone, in a way becoming the other defences, all of which appear to be built in the best manner, and are in good preservation.
At three o'clock _P.M._ the steamer was announced in sight, and we hastened to the little wharf where the captain always lands to show his clearance; a matter of form which is strictly observed.
The inhabitants, at least the civilians, were all assembled on the wharf, for this arrival was the event of the day. The little group was composed of two or three officers' ladies, with their families. Amongst these I noticed one pretty black-eyed English girl, who I fancied looked after the boat as it left the shore, and was whirled alongside the steamer, with a mournful glance, wherein I read the word home written as plainly as I ever read it in a book.
"I wish you were returning to your home, my sweet girl," replied I, in the same language, "and that I might be your escort; you should be well and honestly guarded, at all events."
In a moment I was for ever sundered from this object of my commiseration; yet had my eyes only been as expressive as hers, all I have set down here might have been read therein.
Away we sped along the winding lake, turning from shore to shore, now visiting one pretty landing, now another; a mode of proceeding that is, amidst such scenery, perfectly delightful.
_Saturday, 13th._--Breakfasted at Whitehall, and took the middle line to Albany, traversing a wild sterile country, over bad roads and worse bridges, until we reached Sandy-hill, where the noble Hudson bursts upon the view.
From this point to Albany the river is never lost sight of; and a grateful sight the beautiful stream afforded to a sun-dried, half-smothered traveller, to turn from the dusty track and contemplate its cool waters and pleasant groves.
I sincerely pity the heart to which a drive, at such a season, through this valley of the Hudson, brings no gladness. Talk of the beauties of the river from New-York to Albany, when, after all, it is here they are to be found; here where its waters are seen flowing between banks at times richly wooded, towering high and bold; then sinking suddenly, as they sweep for miles a continuous line of natural meadows, whose rich fringe of waving grass drinks for ever of the passing stream.
In many of these places the country puts on a park-like appearance, and you travel by hill and dale and glance down trim-looking slopes, dotted with irregular clumps of ornamental trees of the finest foliage and of all kinds, from the graceful silver ash and the umbrageous butter-nut, to the tall sombre-looking pine, and the wide-spreading elm.
The river itself is as changeful in its aspect as the lovely country through which it flows; in places its whole breadth is occupied by a stony bed over which it leaps along, forming for a mile or so a gentle uniform rapid. At the next turn it is seen freed from all impediment, moving majestically and slowly through deep-cut banks, or circling round some little islet won from the neighbouring plain.
During our journey we crossed the canal which runs near the river frequently, and the Hudson itself twice, by fine covered bridges.
We also passed through several pretty towns; Schuylersville, a beautiful romantic site; Mechanicsville, a bustling thriving place, with a considerable population, and where I noticed a great number of young girls of an appearance remarkably neat. It was Saturday afternoon, labour was passed for the week, and the street and neighbourhood presented an appearance most creditable to the operatives who are here congregated in a lovely neighbourhood.
By the time we reached Waterford it was dark: here we crossed the Hudson, near the Cohoos' Falls; and at Troy were ferried over, back again, coach, horses, a waggon, and a couple of oxen, in a schow, or flat boat, by torchlight.
From our last landing-place to Albany runs a well Macadamized road of noble proportions, and on this our wearied horses appeared to gain fresh courage, for they trotted along nimbly, setting me down at the door of the Eagle shortly after midnight.
_Sunday, 14th._--Down the Hudson to New York, where I rested for a few days, intending to embark from this port; but finding the ships of every line crowded, and likely to be crowded for some time to come, I decided, in company with an excellent voyaging companion, who had resolved upon sharing my fortunes, to proceed to Philadelphia, and sail from that place, in the Algonquin packet-ship of the 20th inst. which promised equal comforts with fewer candidates; the length of the Delaware making Philadelphia less popular as a packet-station.
GENERAL IMPRESSIONS
OF THE COUNTRY
AND OF THE AMERICAN PEOPLE.
DEPARTURE.
"Nothing is more common than to hear directly opposite accounts of the same countries; the difference lies not in the reported but the reporter." This observation is strictly correct as a general application, but more especially so when directed to the United States of America, its people, and its institutions, as viewed by Englishmen, whose prejudices, strong at all times, and governing their opinions in all places, are more absolutely freed from restraint and self-suspicion when set loose upon a people directly descended from themselves, and inheriting and retaining their customs and their language.
Discrepancies are here also occasioned in many cases by circumstances over which travellers can have no control, and for whose influence they are no way accountable; hence things are very differently described, not so much from the reporters having taken opposite views of the same objects, but because objects themselves are constantly and rapidly changing their aspects.--Take the following as an instance.
I remember to have read in one of our most distinguished publications a few years back a laboured review of a book on America, wherein the writer found occasion to notice railroads; one of this kind being then in contemplation as an improved medium of communication between New York and Philadelphia.
The able reviewer--for right able he was--must have been either an American or one well acquainted with the face of the country, its trade, the people, their present condition, and future prospects. The statistics of the States in question were at his finger-ends; he produced sound evidence in support of each proposition he advanced; and the argument thus sustained went to prove, beyond all doubt, that the spirit of speculation was in this, as in many other particulars, leading the American people to the verge of madness, and their country to certain bankruptcy. That in leaving their magnificent lakes, their endless rivers, and the smooth waters of their coast,--the highways created by Providence for their use, and amply sufficient for their purposes--to waste their wealth, distract their commercial views, and agitate their politics in the projection of railroads that could never be completed, or, if completed even, would not pay, in our time, the expense of repairs, or endure the severity of the climate; to construct which the material must be imported from England, and after every severe winter would require to be renewed, was, in effect, quitting the substance for the shadow, and, if begun in folly, could not fail to end in ruin and disappointment.
I never in my life perused any article more philosophical in spirit or more conclusive in argument; the scheme was clearly shown not only to be absurd but impracticable, and the projectors proved either to be presumptuous imitators, or men profligately speculating upon the ignorant credulity of their fellow-citizens.
I closed the review, in short, admiring the clear judgment and practical farsightedness of the writer; pitying the Yankees, for whom I cherished a sneaking kindness, and inwardly hoping that this very clever exposition of the folly of their seeking to counteract the manifest designs of Providence, which had so clearly demonstrated their paths, might produce as full conviction on their minds as it had on mine.
Well, I forgot the article and its subject, and was only reminded of it by finding myself one fine day whisking along at the rate of twenty miles an hour over a well-constructed railway, one of a cargo of four hundred souls. The impossibility had, in fact, been achieved; and, in addition to the natural roads offered by Sea, Lake, and River, I found railways twining and locomotives hissing like serpents over the whole continent from Maine to Mississippi: Binding the cold North to the ever-flowing streams of Georgia and Alabama, literally, with bonds of iron, and forming, indeed, the natural roads of a country whose soil and climate would set at nought all the ingenuity of M'Adam, backed by the wealth of Croesus and the flint of Derbyshire to boot.
Now, had such a result been prognosticated only a very few years back, the man whose foresight had led to such a large view of the subject would have been mouthed at as mad all over the American continent, and written down knave or ass, or both, in every practical journal of Europe.
Such great changes constantly agitated, and reduced to practice with a promptitude of which even England, with her wealth, industry, and enterprise, has little notion, make discrepancies between the facts and opinions of rapidly succeeding travellers, for which neither the veracity nor the judgment of the parties can fairly be impugned.
Action here leaves speculation lagging far behind; the improvement once conceived is in operation by such time as the opposing theorist has satisfactorily demonstrated its impracticability; and the dream of to-day is the reality of to-morrow.
I feel, in fact, a difficulty in describing without seeming hyperbole the impressions I daily received, and beheld confirmed by facts, of the extraordinary spirit of movement that appears to impel men and things in this country; this great hive wherein there be no drones; this field in which every man finds place for his plough, and where each hand seems actually employed either "to hold or drive."
For ever wandering about as I was, and visiting, as I frequently did, the same places at intervals again and again, I had occasion to be much struck with a state of things of which I was thus afforded constant evidence: take for instance,
My first journey in Sept. 1833, between New York and Philadelphia, was by steam-boat and railway, having cars drawn by horses over thirty-five miles, which thus occupied five hours and a half. In October of the same year I did the same distance by locomotive in two hours. When first I visited Boston, the journey was performed in twenty-four hours, by steamer to Providence, thence to Boston by stage; the same distance now occupies fifteen hours, a railway having been last spring put in operation between Providence and Boston.
Again, in 1834, the traveller had but one rough route from Philadelphia to Pittsburg. You can now go a third of the distance by railroad, and, getting into a canal-boat, are dragged over the Alleghany mountains, through a series of locks not to be surpassed for strength or ingenuity of contrivance.
In 1833, the journey from Augusta, Georgia, to New York was an affair of eleven or twelve days; it is now performed in three. Steam and railroad are, in fact, annihilating time and space in this country. In proof of it, I can safely assert that if a traveller visiting the South-west, say, from Savannah to New Orleans, will be at the trouble of recollecting this book in the year 1837, he will find the account of the difficulties of my journey extremely amusing; since, in all human probability, he will perform that in five days, which took me, with hard labour, perseverance, discomfort, not to say, some peril of life or limb, just eighteen.
It is these revolutions, and such as these, that form the true wonders of this country; that stimulate curiosity, excite interest, and well repay the labour of any voyager embued with a grain of intelligence or observation, to say nothing of philosophy.