The Truth About America

by Edward Money

All ranches in the States are not as above described. Where there is more population the ranches are smaller and differ in other ways. I shall have to describe one later which I bought, so will not do it here.

I had with me a mattress and blankets for the emigrant car beyond New Orleans, but having a first-class ticket I supposed this entitled me to a regular made-up bed in the Pullman carriage which was next to the first-class car. I found though it was not so, and that two dollars a night had to be paid for the luxury. In the first-class carriage, with small seats holding only two, it was impossible to lie down at all, and so I paid it, but this was the first experience I had of the way Europeans are deceived on the American railroads. When I paid at New York the difference of third to first as far as New Orleans, the official well knew, for I told him, I did it to secure sleeping accommodation, but he took good care not to undeceive me. I have known the same sort of thing occur again and again. The most flagrant case I met with I will mention here. I was in Colorado at the time, and about leaving for England. I wrote to a high official of the Central Pacific Railway, at Denver, for the rates of through tickets to New York. He replied that first-class was 48 dollars, second, I think, 44, and added, the difference was small (which was quite true), and that an additional advantage obtained by going first-class was that "it entitled you to sleeping accommodation." (I can swear to the six words quoted.) "Yankee cuteness" had made me suspicious by this time, besides I had never known the Pullman beds included in first-class fare, so I wrote again, and asked if he meant what his letter said. Driven into a corner he explained what I had previously known, viz. that only first-class passengers could use the Pullman, but had to pay extra for it. I wrote back indignantly and said the statement in his first letter was analogous, and equally truthful, to the following supposititious case. A meets his friend B in a town. A points to a jeweller's shop, and tells B he is "entitled" to anything in it. So he is if he pays for it, and it was the same with the Pullman car!

We reached New Orleans in due course. It is in latitude 30° while New York is 41°. It is thus much further south, about 1600 miles by rail. It is not a healthy place, the yellow fever often makes great ravages, but I heard nothing of it. I was only there one day, so can say very little about the town. The sun was very powerful and I did not care to roam. There are many French, and they had imported Cafés on their national plan, with seats outside. Of course the coloured race was numerous, and as a consequence the semi-coloured also. Many ladies and women of this latter class are very handsome; I saw some beautiful faces among them. The "Yankees" are not in the ascendant so far south, and as a consequence the habits of the people are more courteous. The large French element there also conduces thereto. Another thing struck me, the inhabitants seem to take life easier, there is not the rush and drive one meets with in New York. As regards the people I should not object to live there, but the climate is a sad drawback. The winters are much pleasanter than met with north, but the summers must be far worse, and the yellow fever is a sad ogre.

The principal street is a grand one, very wide, with trees on the Boulevard plan. In this respect it far surpasses Broadway in New York,[3] while in buildings it is equal to it. I also found New Orleans much cheaper, the dollar commands more. I was only there about sixteen hours, and then left by the Southern Pacific line en route for California.

As I said before, for this part of the journey I had only emigrant class tickets. The distance is very great, right across the continent, and to San Francisco, where I was bound, some 2900 miles. It was with no little anxiety, therefore, I stepped into and inspected the said emigrant class carriage, in which I was to spend some five days and nights. The interior will be better understood after I have described the general plan and principle of American trains.

Here in England each carriage is divided into compartments, distinct from each other, holding 6, 8, or 10 passengers. In America there are no compartments whatever. Whether first, second, or emigrant class, the carriage is open from end to end. In the middle, connecting the doors at either extremity (there are no doors at the sides), runs an open space, about three feet wide, and the seats are on either side of this passage, and placed at right angles to it. Each seat holds two people, the seats are placed in front of one another on both sides the whole length of the carriage or car, except a certain space at either end, of which presently. When the passengers are seated they thus all face the engine, but the back of each seat works on a pivot at its foot, so that the said back can be placed on either side of the seat. In other words, you can thus sit either with your face or back to the engine. This is a great convenience, for, if the carriage is not crowded and two people can occupy two seats, by placing the backs different ways, you can put your legs on the opposite cushion. But it is a greater convenience still in the emigrant cars, for in them a board can be drawn out to fill up the vacancy between the seats, and you thus have space for a bed. In the emigrant carriages each passenger is entitled to space for his bed at night, and it is thus arranged. The two seats hold four in the day. At night two of the said four vacate, and occupy a space above, made large enough for two beds. This is the arrangement when the car is full, which is not often the case, but otherwise one sleeps above and one below. I was fortunate. Sometimes I occupied the upper, sometimes the lower space, but I never had to share either with another. The above arrangement, viz. spaces for beds, is only in the emigrant cars. In the first class, and in the second if there is one (for a second class carriage is the exception), there is no board to pull out to fill up the vacancy between the seats, nor is there any space for beds above, so that really, unless you go first and pay the nightly charge for the made bed in the Pullman car, you are far better off in the emigrant carriage than in either of the others.

The spaces alluded to above at both ends of the carriages are occupied in one case by a stove and reservoir for iced water, in the other by a lavatory and retiring closet. The long journeys in America could not be undertaken without these conveniences.

In front of the door at each end of the carriage is a small platform, which joins on to and very nearly touches the adjoining one of the next car. The conductor or guard can thus at any time go from one end of the train to the other. So in fact can anybody else, though not permitted into a higher class than paid for. There is no difficulty whatever in going from one carriage to another. I have often seen children do it with the train running at full speed. The said platforms, except the passing space, are railed in, and it is often very pleasant to stand out there in the day time and see the scenery, often at night too, when it is hot, for the draught then is very welcome.

The seats in the emigrant cars have no cushions, they are plain wood. The passengers sit on the pillows or mattresses brought with them, and there is thus no hardship in it. The other carriages have all cushioned seats. The Pullman cars are models of luxury. In some trains there are two Pullmans; one used as a drawing-room in the day and for beds at night, the other for meals. The lavatories in these are most commodious, one for men and one for ladies, and in every possible way the comfort of the passengers is studied. You have your meals at any hour you like, the cuisine is good, and all kinds of wine are on the list. You pass the day reading or writing, though the last is not easy, perfect as the springs are. You smoke, when you will, in a luxurious smoking-room. You can wander from one end of the train to the other, and at night you have a perfect bed. What more can one desire? Under such circumstances, a week's journey is no hardship; but, and it is an important "but" to many, to "do" America in this way is very expensive. The fare is high, the meals dear; thus, to cross the continent in this wise, costs perhaps 40l.

I advise none but the rich to visit America with travel in view. But those to whom "money is no object," as the saying goes, can wander in the States with more comfort and luxury than anywhere in the world.