chance of getting a rebuff. This system, so different from that of the tables d'hôte of France and Germany, involves, unless you have your party with you, the restraints, without the amusements, of society. You must not, between the courses, take out of your pocket a book or a newspaper, as you can in an English coffee-room; and you had better not run the risk of speaking to the lady who may be sitting next you. Yet, perhaps, this reserve may be justifiable in its origin; since, for such peculiarities as I have seen in the habits of the United States, I have generally found, upon investigation, that there were satisfactory reasons. It may be, that it is more difficult there than in Europe to terminate an undesirable acquaintance, or check the forced growth of an acquaintance into an intimacy. * Of the innumerable sets of New York, probably each set has its representatives at these watering-places. The keeper of the retail store, the keeper of the wholesale store, the retired merchant, the newspaper editor, the descendant of governors and senators, and the son of the petty farmer, who, through his own honourable exertions, now creditably occupies their place, all having come, perhaps, from the same city, and having had some little intercourse in business, converse together under the balconies of the hotels. But their wives and daughters commonly reciprocate the most repulsive frigidity towards each other, unless they fancy their neighbours to be in quite as grand a set as themselves. This would not be a pleasant spectacle in a monarchy; and it is not a pleasant spectacle in a republic. Their own illustrious Washington, who always thought and acted like a gentleman, lays down in his "Rules of Behaviour," that "every action in company ought to be with some sign of respect to those present." And one cannot help fancying that personages, who are unavoidably constrained by their superior position to act on a different principle, would do well to incur the expense of taking private lodgings, or private rooms in an hotel, rather than dine at a dinner-table, sit on a sofa, and play on a pianoforte, common to those to whom, nevertheless, they are bound to display, in a marked manner, the graceful proportions of their backs. To the great southern watering-place, the White Sulphur Springs of Virginia, I have not been. But I am assured, and believe, that this mountain-retreat is characterised by ease, want of pretension, and all the essentials of good-breeding. And I only trust that the railroads, which are each year rendering it more accessible from all portions of the country, will not obliterate its distinctive social charms. the Albany is the political capital of the state of New York; and to it, whoever visits the city of New York, is sure to ascend in one of the Hudson River steam-boats. The Hudson, or North River, as it is often called from the direction from which it flows, rivals in its scenery wildest and most beautiful portions of the Rhine; and, if it has on its banks large hotels, handsome country-seats, and neat villas, almost all built of wood, and painted white, and looking in the clear air and * Both what the English call shops and what they call warehouses, the Ameri cans call stores. It would seem as if the Americans were anxious not to be called, as we were by Napoleon, a nation of shopkeepers; for, with them, you seldom hear any place, except a barber's room, spoken of as a shop. + Sparks's "Life of Washington,” p. 513. bright sunshine, as if made of Parian marble, instead of the gloomy ruins of castles-and hence, to the mere artist, it may be the less attractive of the two-it has associations which, to an Englishman, should render it far the more interesting. At Tarrytown, on its banks, is the spot where the ill-starred Major Andrè was captured; and not far off is the village of Tappan, where he was executed, while His mourners were two hosts-his friends and foes. A little higher up the river than Tarrytown, modestly hiding itself amongst the trees, yet, as you change your position, playfully peeping out from them, as if it had caught something of the vein of sly humour which enlivens the charming fictions of its owner, is the residence of Mr. Washington Irving. Again, a little higher up, is West Point, the strongest military station on the river, which Arnold, its commander, would have betrayed to the British for gold. Here has been established a military academy, where, both discipline and instruction being considered, the best education in the United States is said to be given. Though the national government keeps but a small standing army, it here educates a great number of young gentlemen for officers; well knowing that, what with the numerous militia of the various states, and with the spirit of the people, soldiers could at any time be made, were there officers fit to command them. No man enters the United States' army as an officer, unless from West Point; and, consequently, no private can obtain a commission. And in the United States' army there is no promotion by purchase. Leaving West Point, we soon pass Newburg, where is a house used by General Washington as head-quarters during a portion of the revolutionary war. Then you pass Kaatskill. And what schoolboy does not know that in the woods above Kaatskill, Rip Van Winkle supped with the fairies, and afterwards slept for twenty years? And as the traveller in Switzerland ascends the Rigi for the prospect, so should the traveller in the state of New York spend a day, or a week, or a month, at the Mountain House, a large hotel on the summit of the Kaatskill mountains. But I will no longer linger over the charms of the Hudson. You eventually disembark at Albany, the capital of the state, where very agreeable society is to be found. The comptroller, a sort of state chancellor of the exchequer, who has his office in Albany, mentioned to me an excellent law, which the New York legislature had of late years enacted, requiring the various banks in the state to give a security to the state, and, through it, to the public. Any one in the state of New York may establish a bank, and may issue notes; but the notes must be supplied through the office of the comptroller, who must supply them to that amount, and only to that amount, that the security in United States' stock or New York state stock deposited with him by the banker will cover. Thus, in the event of a bank failing, the public would be protected from any loss through its notes; as the state would sell the stock and redeem the notes with the proceeds. From Albany you may catch a glimpse of Troy, on the opposite side of the river, a little higher up. Procedo, et parvam Trojam, simulataque magnis But the good taste of the community is now generally preferring Indian to classical names. 66 At Albany I took the railroad train, or, as it is commonly called in America, the cars," and proceeded to Auburn. A car consists of a carriage in the shape of a long saloon, with a passage down the centre, and, on each side, running at right angles from the passage, a number of benches stuffed and backed, each of which will hold two persons. In the winter there is a stove near the middle of this saloon. The trains in the southern and middle states are not divided into first, second, and thirdclass carriages, as with us; for on the introduction of railroads it was, in these found, on trial, that no native American would condescend to travel by any class except the first. There is, however, a separate car in front for negroes and all others tainted with African blood; which is only reasonable, as the offence of "coloured people" against the senses is often not confined to the eyes. Occasionally a cheaper train, called "an emigrant train," is run. In the New England states they generally have a second-class car, but no separate car for negroes. The fuel generally burnt by the engines is wood, which is stacked at intervals by the side of the railroads. On coming to the station from which you start, you find at most of the railroads a porter, whose duty it is, after having ascertained where you are bound, to append by a leathern strap to each article of your luggage, or "baggage," as it is commonly called in America, a tin ticket, on which is stamped a letter for the place of your destination, and some particular number in figures; he then gives you a duplicate of each of these tickets; and, on your arrival at your journey's end, you may hand these duplicates to the porter of your hotel, or to any servant who may meet you; and to the producer of these, but to no one else, will your luggage be given up. Would not the introduction of this system be a great improvement upon ours, in which persons of all sexes, and ages, and positions, have, on the stopping of a train at a great station, to crowd up together against a railing to recognise and claim their boxes? Auburn is one of those huge villages in the western part of the state of New York, which, were they in England, would be dignified with the name of towns. It has a large "state prison;" from the discipline pursued in which, the silent, is often called the Auburn, in opposition to the Pennsylvanian, or separate system. Those who wish to go over it must pay a small fee on entering; and I believe it was the first and last time that, in the United States, I found anything charged for permission to inspect any public property, whether belonging to a state or to the nation. Nor are previous applications nor written orders as generally necessary as with Over the United States' armory at Springfield, and over the United States' dockyard, or, as the Americans with greater precision call it, "Navy yard," at Boston, you may roam unquestioned at any reasonable and the workmen at both places seem to think that it is incumbent upon them to show the duties of hospitality by answering, as completely as they can, any question which a stranger may put. Though in such matters we ourselves are improving, we have still much to learn from the Americans. Again, though probably you cannot hurry through us. hour; a crowded street in any of the principal cities of the United States without justling against a general and half a dozen colonels and majors of militia in plain clothes, and can hardly enter into a shop or an hotel without hearing the book-keeper addressed as captain (for the population of every state seems to take to militia-soldiering as a holiday amusement), you never see a soldier of the national army out of his proper place. The other day, at the British Museum, I was paying a hack-cabman, who had driven me there, having brought with me a few specimens which I had collected in America as presents for the institution, when a soldier, walking as sentry, told the cabman that he must move on. His cab was not occupying room that was wanted, as there was no carriage behind. It is not pleasant to be reminded, by the intrusion of a soldier with a bayonet into a business, which, if done at all, should be done by a policeman, that one has returned to one's native land; but this an American never need fear. But to return to the New York state prison at Auburn. The only separation in the workshops seemed to be that caused by the difference of sex, and the difference of work; but silence was enjoined. All the prisoners were made to work: those, who had any trade of their own before they came there, as shoemakers, carpenters, &c., were made to work at that; and those who knew no trade were taught one. What the prisoners produce is sold to pay the costs of the establishment; and I was told by the guide that this now realises a sufficient sum to pay its current expenses. When a prisoner leaves, he is presented with a small sum of money (two dollars was, I think, the sum mentioned), and a suit of clothes, in order that he may not be driven to crime by destitution: but a larger sum, it had been found, was likely to induce habits of idleness. But the penitentiary at Albany is generally considered the most perfect specimen of the working of this system. Here not an eye was raised, as the party that I accompanied passed through the rooms. The men, I think, were principally engaged in plaiting cane-bottomed chairs, and the women in covering glass bottles with wicker-work to "send west.” Probably the prisoners here were generally confined but for a short time, and the arts in which they were employed were such as could be quickly acquired. In the silent system almost everything must depend upon the tact of the manager; and the penitentiary at Albany is fortunate in having secured the services of Mr. Pilsbury, who has inherited the skill, as well as the occupation, of his father. Of the father I will copy an anecdote, from a biography of the son, published in Albany; merely premising that, whereas it is very unusual for an English gentleman to be shaved by a barber, it is the ordinary course adopted by all classes in the United States: "A desperate fellow of the name of Scott, alias Teller, was sent for fifteen years to Wethersfield (a prison in Vermont, of which Captain Pilsbury was warden); he had previously been confined in Sing Sing and other prisons. He was determined not to work or submit to any rules. Of course, Captain Pilsbury treated him accordingly. He very soon cut one of his hands nearly off, on purpose to avoid labour; but his wound was immediately attended to, and, in less than one hour afterwards, he found himself turning a large crank with one hand. It was then that he declared he would murder the warden on the very first opportunity. Soon after this, the regular barber of the prison being sick, Scott, who had, it was said, when young, worked at that trade, was directed by the deputy-warden to take the place of the barber, and shave the prisoners throughout the establishment. Captain Pilsbury, on going into the shop soon afterwards, was told by one of the assistants that the prisoners did not like being shaved by this man; that he had behaved very badly ever since he had been an inmate; and that they were afraid of him. Captain Pilsbury immediately took the chair, and directed Scott to shave him. "From that moment he became one of the best behaved convicts in the prison, and remained so until Captain Pilsbury left it, in November, 1832. Soon after the appointment of a new warden Scott tried to escape, and murdered one of his keepers. For this crime he was hanged, at Hartford, in 1833." Captain Pilsbury was the chief promoter of the silent system in New England; and seems to have been peculiarly endowed with the talent of producing the strictest discipline by persuasion. In a notice of him in a Philadelphia newspaper, it is stated that he seldom punished; but, when he did, he took special pains to show the criminal that he regarded him as an unfortunate human being, not as a brute. At Philadelphia, the principal city, though not the political capital, of Pennsylvania, there is a vast prison called the "Eastern State Penitentiary of Pennsylvania." Here also the prisoners are made to work; but they work in their solitary cells. A recent report acknowledges that "the commonwealth is not an immediate pecuniary gainer by the maintenance of the present system of discipline;" but maintains, that it is "believed to be better for all the purposes of reformation." It adds, that "the inspectors have denied that the system, as there administered, had any tendency to produce the disease" of insanity; but acknowledges that, "where hereditary predisposition to it has existed, they have admitted that its effect has been, in some instances, to develop it more speedily." In going over the cells of the penitentiary at Philadelphia, I was introduced to one of them, which had been occupied by a young gentleman, who had thrown away all the advantages of birth, education, and talents. Confined here as a criminal, he had endeavoured to relieve his solitude by the composition of some touching and beautiful verses, alluding to his own sad fall. From his clothes he had succeeded in extracting some dyes, and with these he had painted the verses in a sort of fresco style upon the wall of his cell, where they still remain, to claim the admiration and the regrets of the stranger. It is time to return to Auburn, from speaking of the penitentiary of which I have been led into my digression. From Auburn the railroad takes you to the "village" of Geneva, situated on a beautiful little lake called Lake Seneca. It has a college, and several places of public worship, and is one of the sweetest spots for a residence that I ever saw. It is built on the side of a hill at the lower part of the lake; and, though its wooded hills have nothing of the rugged grandeur so conspicuous in * Report of 1849. |