We left the "Catskills" on a Monday morning for Saratoga; but the glory of Saratoga had departed; the season was all but over; only a few stragglers of the flock of the summer birds of fashion remained, the others had already migrated southward. The shopkeepers were packing up their goods and shutting up their shops, and resident hibernators were preparing their winter quarters; but the great hotel was not empty. On the contrary, we found it difficult to procure a night's lodging there. The house was crowded, but not with youth and beauty; there was no sound of music and of revelry, but there was a great clatter of the tongues of men—strong, healthy, earnest-looking men, who had come from every village in New York State to "vote their ticket." It was the time of convention for nomination of a Governor for the State.
It was pleasant to me to be afforded an opportunity of seeing such an assemblage of true American men in one hall. I presume that every man I saw in that great crowd was the chosen representative of his own village or parish or township or city; and I own I was agreeably surprised to observe that so very many of them bore such a strong family resemblance to the best of my own countrymen of the like class; the chief difference perhaps being one which I regard as favourable to the Americans, for they did not smoke so much as so many Englishmen would have done, and certainly they drank far less. Indeed, I noticed that many of them confined their drinks to iced water, or tea and coffee. There was very little spitting, and I am pretty sure there was no chewing. Their cheeks were bronzed and healthy, and they had the appearance of intelligent men, quite in earnest respecting the business they had come to do.
I fancy that the men assembled in this hotel were all bent on voting the Republican ticket, while the Democrats had met in other quarters. Here it was that for the first time I learnt the existence of a third party in the State which rejoices in the title of "Mugwump."
I have not been able to find this word in any American dictionary, but it seems to have become so thoroughly imbedded in the American language that you may be quite sure it will be found with its derivation and application fully described and probably illustrated in that grand new dictionary now being prepared by "The Century Company." My present information, however, only enables me to say that a "mugwump" is a man who has earned that appellation on account of his strict adherence to the dictates of his own conscience; he votes for principle, not for party. A "mugwump" is a man who, if he is a Republican, will vote for a good Democrat rather than for a bad Republican, and probably the converse holds good. Of course I repelled the idea that honesty was so rare amongst American politicians as to have led them to invent a new word to represent such an unusual phenomenon as an honest voter; there is, I am sure, a better reason to be found, and I commend the word to the notice of English politicians; the principle it represents may be valuable if largely applied during our own coming elections.
We took a rapid survey, by a drive round the park and the lake, and then went "aboard" the cars for Niagara.
The Falls of Niagara.
We had a long cold ride through the night, and our hotel being on the Canadian side, we caught our first sight of the Falls under unusual circumstances; in fact, through the windows of a large omnibus occupied by ourselves alone, and driven slowly over the Suspension Bridge at two o'clock in the morning. The harvest moon, just at its full, but a little obscured by passing clouds and mists, was shining on the Falls, and, as the horses tramped slowly over the bridge, suspended several hundred feet above the dread waters, we came upon the scene quite unexpectedly: the sight was a stirring one, I assure you. On the bridge we could see the whole of the Falls at once, looking down upon them from our great height.
THE FALLS, FROM THE SUSPENSION BRIDGE.