HARTFORD.
The City of Publishers.—Its Geographical Location.—The New State House.—Mark Twain and the "None Such."—The "Heathen Chinee."—Wadsworth Atheneum.—Charter Oak.—George H. Clark's Poem.—Putnam's Hotel.—Asylum for Deaf Mutes.—The Sign Language.—A Fragment of Witchcraftism.—Hartford Courant.—The Connecticut River.
Having decided to pitch our tents in Hartford, we moved from New Haven by rail, on the afternoon of September eighth, 1874. A hot, dusty day it was, indeed, with mercury at ninety-two in the shade, and dust enough to enable passengers of the rollicking order to inscribe monograms on the backs of their unsuspecting neighbors.
The distance, according to recent time tables, is one dollar, or an hour and fifteen minutes. The scenery encountered on this route is less varied than that from New York to New Haven, and yet there is much to interest the careful observer. The only town of any importance between these rival cities is Meriden, an enterprising city of twenty thousand souls, standing midway between them.
Hartford, the capital of nutmegdom, is the second city of Connecticut, having, as shown by the last census, a population of thirty-seven thousand. Pleasantly situated on the Connecticut River, and enjoying now the advantage of exclusive legislation for the State, Hartford is destined to become one of the most important cities of New England.
Authors, artists and publishers have ever found Hartford a fruitful field for the development of brains and enterprise. It is, perhaps, not exaggeration to say that in no other city of the United States of the same size is there so large a proportion of the population devoted to literature. The American and Hartford Publishing Companies, the firms of Burr, Scranton, Worthington, Dustin, Gilman and Company, and many others of less note, are located here.
The new State House, now in process of erection, is destined to be one of the finest buildings in the country. The site commands a view of the city and its surroundings for many miles. Among the objects of interest to be found here are the residence of "Mark Twain" and the State Insane Asylum. "Mark's" house is at the end of Farmington avenue, on a little eminence, at the foot of which flows a nameless stream.
Its style of construction is so unlike the average house that it has won for itself the characteristic title of "The None Such."
It is still in the hands of the architect, and will probably not be ready for occupancy before November. If this building is not regarded as a marvel, then I will confess that, after nearly twenty years of travel, I have yet to learn the meaning of that term as applied to architecture. The plat of ground on which the house and adjacent buildings stand was selected and purchased by Mrs. "Twain"—so said the gentlemanly architect who replied to our inquiries. As the genial "Mark" desires the maximum quantity of light, his apartments are so arranged as to give him the sun all day. The bricks of the outer walls of the house are painted in three colors, making the general effect decidedly fantastic.
Taking it all in all, I have nowhere seen a more curious study in architecture, and hope, for the satisfaction of its eccentric owner, that it will quite meet his expectations.
The Celestials, or representatives from China, are now so often seen, from California eastward to New England, that they have ceased to be considered objects of special interest in any part of the United States. I have met them more or less in my journeyings during the last two years, and have often wondered if others see their strange characteristics from the same standpoint that I do. To me, Ah Sin is ingenious, enterprising, economical, and the essence of quiet good humor.
Opposite my quarters here in Hartford are two of these odd-looking Chinamen, whom I will, for convenience, name Ching Wing Shing and Chang Boomerang.
My rooms being directly opposite the store of Boomerang and Company, an excellent opportunity is afforded me for witnessing their varied devices to invite trade and entertain their customers. Although only tea and coffee are advertised, Chang's store will be found, on close inspection, to strongly resemble the "Old Curiosity Shop," described by Dickens, there being a small assortment of everything in their line, from tea and coffee to watermelons.
Chang and Ching invariably wear a smile upon their "childlike and bland" features. School children passing that way seem to take pleasure in teasing these mild-mannered China merchants, and unfortunate indeed is the firm of Boomerang and Company, if their backs are turned on their youthful tormenters; for these mischievous urchins seem to think it no crime to pilfer anything owned or presided over by their pig-tailed neighbors. Should Chang or Ching discover their sportive enemies gliding away with the tempting fruits of their stands, it is useless to pursue, for a troop of juvenile confederates will rush into the store the moment it is vacated and help themselves to whatever may please their fancy.