I took another long ride to a quarry ten miles distant from Boston, whence the granite, which is much used in Boston for building, is drawn. I started at six in the morning, and rode about twenty miles before breakfast, which I think was a piece of virtue bordering upon heroism: to be sure, I had my reward, for any thing so sweet as the whole world, at about half-past six, I never beheld. The dew was yet fresh upon tree and flower,—the roads were shady and cool,—the dust had not yet been disturbed; a mild, soft, full breeze blew over the flowery earth, and the rosy apple blossoms stirred on the rocking boughs against the serene and smiling sky. They have in this country neither nightingales, thrushes, linnets, nor blackbirds, at least, none with the same notes as ours; but every now and then, from the snowy cherry trees, there came a wild snatch of trilling melody, like the clear ringing song of a canary bird. My companion did not know the minstrel by his note; but I never heard a more brilliant and joyful strain, or one more fitted to the bright hour of opening day,—always excepting the lark's, that triumphant embodied spirit of song.[99] The blackbird's song is to me the sweetest in the world,—sad and soft, and rich as the sunsets through which it is heard. The quarry which we visited is an extensive vein of fine dark-coloured granite. We dismounted, and walked among the workmen to see them at their various processes. This quarry, and one at a short distance, merely supply the blocks of granite, which, being detached from the main stone, are piled upon cars, and sent down an inclined plane to the rail-road, by means of a powerful chain, which acts at once as a support and check, suffering the load to proceed slowly down the declivity, and at the same time sending up from the bottom, upon another track, the empty car from which the granite has been unloaded below, as the buckets of a well are drawn up and down. A very serious accident occurred here, by the by, to a party of gentlemen, among whom Mr. —— was one. They had placed themselves in the empty car at the bottom of the inclined plane, and were being slowly drawn up, as the car loaded with granite descended on the other track. Just as they were approaching the summit, the chain by which the car was drawn up gave way, and it rolled backwards down the plane with fearful velocity, and, starting off the track of the rail-road, pitched down into a ravine full of rocks and blocks of granite, over which the road passes like a bridge at the foot of the quarry. I believe one of them was killed, and the others most terribly injured. The rough blocks of granite are conveyed by horses, in the same rail-road cars, to smaller quarries below, where they are wrought and shaped for their appointed uses. After looking down from the summit of the granite rock upon the country which lay smiling for many a sunny mile of flowery earth and sparkling sea below, and wandering about the works, which are interesting and curious, we remounted, and rode home over turfy wood-paths, through tangled thickets of pine, fir, and cedar, whose warm fragrance was beginning to be drawn forth by the morning sun. We disturbed in our path a poor woodcock, who was sitting with her young: it was a pity to see the poor thing flutter about her treasure, and go trailing a little way into the brush-wood, to entice us away from them. Poor mother! what a tempest of fear and agony was in your downy breast. I was very sorry we had frightened her, poor creature. The country we rode through was extremely pretty,—so, indeed, I think all the country round Boston is; the only deficiency is water,—running water, I mean; for there are several beautiful pools in this vicinity,—and, turn which way you will, the silver shield of the sea shining against the horizon is a lovely feature of the landscape. But there are no rivulets, no brooks, no sparkling singing water-courses to refresh one's senses, as one rides across the fields and through the woodlands. —— called on us on Sunday last. He is very enchanting: I wish it had been my good fortune to see him oftener. One of the great men of this country, he would have been a first-rate man all the world over; and, like all first-rate people, there is a simplicity and a total want of pretension about him that is very delightful. He gave us a description of Niagara, which did what he complained no description of it ever does,—conveyed to us an exact idea of the natural position and circumstances which render these falls so wonderful; whereas, most describers launch forth into vague and untangible rhapsodies, which, after all, convey no express idea of any thing but water in the abstract, he gave me, by his few simple words, a more real impression of the stupendous cataract than all that was ever writ or spoken of waterfalls before, not excepting Byron's Terni. Last Saturday, I dined at ——'s; where, for my greater happiness, I sat between —— and ——. I remember especially two bright things uttered; the one by the one, the other by the other of these worthies. Mr. ——, speaking of Knowles's Hunchback, said, "Well, after all, it's no great matter. The author evidently understands stage effect and dramatic situations, and so on; but as for the writing, it's by no means as good as Shakspeare." I looked at the man in amazement, and suggested to him that Shakspeare did not grow upon every bush. Presently, Mr. —— began a sentence by assuring me that he was a worshipper of Shakspeare; and ended it by saying that Othello was disgusting, King Lear ludicrous, and Romeo and Juliet childish nonsense: whereat I swallowed half a pint of water, and nearly my tumbler too, and remained silent; for what could I say? However, in spite of this, I owe —— some gratitude, for he brought —— to see me the other day, whose face is more like that of a good and intellectual man than almost any face I ever saw. The climate of this place is dreadful! The night before last, the weather was so warm, that, with my window open, I was obliged to take half the clothes off my bed: last night was so cold, that, with window shut, and additional covering, I could scarce get to sleep for the cold. This is terrible, and forms a serious drawback upon the various attractions of Boston; and to me it has many. The houses are like English houses: the Common is like Constitution Hill; Beacon Street is like a bit of Park Lane; and Summer Street, now that the chestnut trees are in bloom, is perfectly beautiful. But for the climate, I should like to live in Boston very much: my stay here has been delightful. It is in itself a lovely place, and the country round it is charming. The people are intellectual, and have been most abundantly good-natured and kind to me.
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I have finished ——'s sermons, which are most excellent. I think he is one of the purest English prose-writers now living. I revere him greatly; yet I do not think his denial of the Trinity is consistent with the argument by which he maintains the truth of the miracles. I have begun the Diary of an Ennuyée again: that book is most enchanting to me,—merely to read the names of the places in which one's imagination goes sunning itself for ever, is delightful.
New York.
I have seen ——, who in his outward man bears but little token of his inward greatness. Miss —— had prepared me for an exterior over which debility and sickness had triumphed now for some years; but, thought I, there must be eyes and a brow; and there the spirit will surely be seen upon its throne. But the eyes were small grey eyes, with an expression which struck me at first as more akin to shrewdness of judgment, than genius and the loftier qualities of the mind; and though the brow and forehead were those of an intellectual person, they had neither the expanse nor conformation I had imagined. The subject of our conversation, though sufficiently natural for him to choose, addressing one of my craft, did not appear to me to be a happy one for his own powers,—perhaps I thought so because I differed from him. He talked about the stage and acting in as unreal, and, in my opinion, mistaken, a manner as possible. Had he expressed himself unknowingly about acting, that would not have surprised me; for he can have no means of judging of it, not having frequented the theatre for some years past: and those who have the best means of forming critical judgments upon dramatic subjects for the most part talk arrant nonsense about them. Lawrence was the only man I ever heard speak about the stage who did so with understanding and accuracy. I have heard the very cleverest men in England talk the greatest stuff imaginable about actors and acting. But to return to ——: he said he had not thought much upon the subject, but that it appeared to him feasible and highly desirable to take detached passages and scenes from the finest dramatic writers, and have them well declaimed in comparatively private assemblies,—this as a wholesome substitute for the stage, of which he said he did not approve; and he thought this the best method of obtaining the intellectual pleasure and profit to be derived from fine dramatic works, without the illusion and excitement belonging to theatrical exhibitions. My horror was so unutterable at this proposition, and my amazement so extreme that he should make it, that I believe my replies to it were all but incoherent. What! take one of Shakspeare's plays bit by bit, break it piece-meal, in order to make recitals of it!—destroy the marvellous unity of one of his magnificent works, to make patches of declamation! If the stage is evil, put it away, and put away with it those writings which properly belong to it, and to nothing else; but do not take dramatic compositions, things full of present action and emotion, to turn them into recitations,—and mutilated ones too. Get other poems to declaim, no matter how vivid or impassioned in their descriptions, so their form be not dramatic. It is not to be supposed that the effect proper and natural to a fine dramatic conception can be preserved when the language is merely declaimed without the assistance of distance, dress, scenic effects,—all the appertainings that the author has reckoned upon to work out his idea. —— mentioned the dagger soliloquy in Macbeth, as an instance which would admit of being executed after his idea; saying, that that, well read by any person in a drawing-room, would have all the effect necessary or desirable. I remember hearing my aunt Siddons read the scenes of the witches in Macbeth; and, while doing so, was obliged to cover my eyes, that her velvet gown, modern cap, and spectacles might not disturb the wild and sublime images that her magnificent voice and recitation were conjuring up around me. If a man professes to tell you a story, no matter what,—say the story of Romeo and Juliet,—and sits in a modern drawing-room, in modern costume, it matters not,—he is no part of his story,—you do not connect him with his narrative,—his appearance in no way clashes with your train of thought,—you are not thinking of him, but of the people he is talking about. But if a man in a modern drawing-room, and in modern costume, were to get up, and begin reciting the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet, I think the case would be altered. However, never having heard such a proposal before, I had not thought much about it, and only felt a little stunned at the idea of Shakspeare's histories being broken into fragments.[100]
Thursday.
At a little after ten, —— came to take us to see the savages. We drove down, D——, my father, he, and I, to their hotel. We found, even at that early hour, the portico, passage, and staircase, thronged with gazers upon the same errand as ourselves. We made our way, at length, into the presence-chamber; a little narrow dark room, with all the windows shut, crowded with people, come to stare at their fellow wild beasts. Upon a sofa sat Black Hawk, a diminutive shrivelled-looking old man, with an appearance of much activity in his shrunk limbs, and a calmness and dignified self-composure in his manner, which, in spite of his want of size and comeliness, was very striking. Next to him sat a young man, the adopted son of his brother the prophet, whose height and breadth, and peculiar gravity of face and deportment, were those of a man nearly forty, whereas he is little more than half that age. The undisturbed seriousness of his countenance was explained to me by their keeper, thus: he had, it seems, the day before, indulged rather too freely in the delights of champagne, and was suffering just retribution in the shape of a headach,—unjust retribution, I should say, for in his savage experience no such sweet bright poison had ever before been recorded, I guess, by the after pain it causes. Next to him sat Black Hawk's son, a noble big young creature, like a fine Newfoundland puppy, with a handsome scornful face, which yet exhibited more familiarity and good-humoured amusement at what was going on than any of the rest. His hair was powdered on the top, and round the ears, with a bright vermilion-coloured powder, and knots of scarlet berries or beads, I don't know which, hung like ear-rings on each side of his face. A string of glass beads was tied round his naked throat; he was wrapped in a large blanket, which completely concealed his form, except his legs and feet, which were clothed in common leather shoes, and a species of deerskin gaiter. He seemed much alive to what was going on, conversed freely in his own language with his neighbour, and laughed once or twice aloud, which rather surprised me, as I had heard so much of their immovable gravity. The costume of the other young man was much the same, except that his hair was not adorned. Black Hawk himself had on a blue cloth surtout, scarlet leggings, a black silk neck-handkerchief, and ear-rings. His appearance altogether was not unlike that of an old French gentleman. Beside him, on a chair, sat one of his warriors, wrapped in a blanket, with a cotton handkerchief whisped round his head. At one of the windows apart from their companions, with less courtesy in their demeanour, and a great deal of sullen savageness in their serious aspects, sat the great warrior, and the prophet of the tribe—the latter is Black Hawk's brother. I cannot express the feeling of commiseration and disgust which the whole scene gave me. That men such as ourselves, creatures with like feelings, like perceptions, should be brought, as strange animals at a show, to be gazed at the livelong day by succeeding shoals of gaping folk, struck me as totally unfitting. The cold dignity of the old chief, and the malignant scowl of the prophet, expressed the indecency and the irksomeness of such a situation. Then, to look at those two young savages, with their fine muscular proportions, and think of them cooped up the whole horrible day long, in this hot prison-house full of people, made my heart ach. How they must loathe the sight of these narrow walls, and the sound of these strange voices; how they must sicken for their unmeasured range of wilderness! The gentleman who seemed to have the charge of them pressed me to go up and shake hands with them, as every body else in the room did; but I refused to do so from literal compassion, and unwillingness to add to the wearisome toil they were made to undergo. As we were departing, however, they reiterated their entreaties that we would go up and shake hands with them,—so I did. Black Hawk and the young men received our courtesy with great complaisance; but when we went to the great warrior and the prophet, they seemed exceedingly loath to receive our hands, the latter particularly, who had, moreover, one of the very worst expressions I think I ever saw upon a human countenance. I instinctively withdrew my hand; but when my father offered his, the savage's face relaxed into a smile, and he met his greeting readily. I wonder what pleased him about my father's appearance, whether it was his large size or not. I had a silver vinaigrette in my pouch, which I gave Black Hawk's son, by way of keepsake: it will make a charming present for his squaw.