First impressions of the New World on two travellers from the Old, in the autumn of 1858

by Isabella Strange Trotter

This is but a weak basis for a sound education, and I cannot but think its insufficiency is even here practically, and perhaps unconsciously, acknowledged; for, though no direct religious instruction is professedly given, a religious tone is nevertheless attempted to be conveyed in the lessons. At the opening of the school, a portion of the Bible is read daily in each class; and the pupils are allowed to read such versions of the Scriptures as their parents may prefer, but no marginal readings are allowed, nor may any comments be made by the teachers.[12]

We left Cincinnati this morning in the car appropriated to the use of the Directors of the Ohio and Mississippi Railway, on which line we are travelling. It is neatly fitted up with little "state" rooms, with sofas all round. There were four of these, besides a general saloon in the middle; but the whole was greatly inferior to the elegance of Mr. Tyson's car on the Baltimore and Ohio Railway. Our party consisted of about thirty persons, of whom four were judges, and about a third of the number were ladies, accompanying their liege lords, and chiefly asked in honour of me, to prevent my being "an unprotected female" among such a host of gentlemen. An ordinary car was attached to that of the Directors, for the use of any smokers of the party. We left Cincinnati at half-past eight, and reached this place, Vincennes, where we are to sleep, at about six o'clock. The road was very pretty, though the leaves were nearly all off the trees; the forms of the trees were, however, lovely, and it was quite a new description of country to us, the clearings being recent and still very rough in appearance, and the log-houses, in most places, of a most primitive kind. Vincennes, where we are to sleep, is an old town of French origin, prettily situated on the river Wabash, which we can see from our windows.

St. Louis, November 4th.—We came on here on the 2nd instant, and soon after leaving Vincennes found ourselves in a prairie, but it was not till after sixty miles that we got to the Grand Prairie, which we traversed for about sixty more. The vastness, however, of this prairie, consists in its length from north to south, in which it stretches through nearly the whole length of the State. These prairies are enormous plains of country, covered, at this time, by a long brown grass, in which are the seed-vessels and remains of innumerable flowers, which are said to be most lovely in their form and colour in the spring. It was disappointing only to see the dark remains of what must have been such a rich parterre of flowers. One of our party, Colonel Reilly, of Texas, who had seen our Crystal Palace gardens at Sydenham, in full flower, said that they reminded him of the prairies in the spring. The ground is so level, that the woods on the horizon had the effect that the first sight of the dark line of land has at sea. In many places near the road on each side, small farms were established, and good-sized fields of Indian corn were growing; and wherever there was a railway station, a town, or even a "city" with one or two churches, and an hotel, besides grocery stores and wooden buildings of various kinds, were in progress in this immense wilderness.

The rain poured down incessantly, giving the country a melancholy and forlorn appearance. Towards the latter part of our journey, we descended into and traversed the great valley of the Mississippi. We passed several coal-mines, and here, where the vein of coal is eight feet thick, the land, including the coal, may be bought for one pound an acre. The country soon assumed the appearance of a great swamp, and is most unhealthy, being full of fever and ague.

At length our train stopped, and we were ushered into omnibuses of enormous length, drawn by four horses, and two of these caterpillar-like looking vehicles were driven on to the steam-ferry, and in this unromantic way we steamed across the great Father of Waters, and a most unpoetic and unromantic river it appeared to be. There is nothing in its width here to strike the eye or the imagination, though its depth is very great, and it has risen ten feet within the last week. But it appeared to us ugly and inconsiderable after the wide, rapid, clear, and magnificent St. Lawrence. We were driven through a sea of mud and mire to this large and comfortable hotel, and were shortly afterwards seated at table with the rest of our party.

I forgot to mention that, at Vincennes, seven sportsmen had been out all day, before we arrived, to procure game for us, and were much disappointed at not being able to get us any prairie hens, which are a humble imitation of grouse, though Americans are pleased to consider them better than that best of birds; but "comparisons are odious," and the prairie-hens are very praiseworthy and good in their way. We had, however, abundance of venison and quails, and the same fare met us here, with large libations of champagne. The owner of our hotel at Cincinnati travelled with us, and looked as much like a gentleman as the rest of the party; and we have been joined here in our private drawing-room by the landlord and landlady of this hotel. Not knowing at first who they were, papa turned round to the former, and asked him if he knew St. Louis, and had been long here, to which our friend replied, "Yes, sir; I have lived here eighteen years, and am the master of this hotel." Yesterday our dinner was even better than on the day of our arrival, closing with four or five omelettes soufflées, worthy of Paris, and the same number of pyramids of Vanilla ice. So much for the progress of civilisation across the Mississippi.

We paddled about in the muddy streets yesterday, and looked in at the shop-windows. We found even here plenty of hoop petticoats, and of tempting-looking bookseller's shops. Our hotel is close to the Court-house, a handsome building of limestone, with a portico and a cupola in process of building, being a humble imitation of the one at Washington. Yesterday evening, one or two of the gentlemen amused us after dinner with some nigger songs, ending, I suppose out of compliment to us, with "God save the Queen." I studied the toilette of one of our party this morning—the only young unmarried lady among us. I had often seen the same sort of dress at the hotels, but never such a good specimen as this. It is called here the French morning robe or wrapper, and this one was made of crimson merino, with a wide shawl bordering half-way up the depth of the skirt. The skirt is quite open in front, displaying a white petticoat with an embroidered bordering. The body of the wrapper was formed in the old-fashioned way, with a neck-piece, with trimmings of narrow shawl borderings; there was no collar at all, the crimson merino coming against the neck without any break of even a frill of white. The sleeves were very large, of the latest fashion, with white under sleeves, and the waist was very short, confined with a red band of merino. These dresses are very common in the morning, and are, I believe, thought to be very elegant. They are frequently made like this, of some violent coloured merino, and often of silk, with trimmings of another coloured ribbon.

Having digressed so far from my account of St. Louis, I will go back for a few minutes to Cincinnati, to describe the grand fire-engines we saw there, with horses all ready harnessed. One particular engine, in which the water was forced up by steam, could have its steam up and be ready for action in three minutes from its time of starting, and long, therefore, in all probability before it reached the place where its services were required. These engines all had stags' horns placed in a prominent position in front, as a sign of swiftness, and on this particular one there was printed under the horns, "Sure Thing, 287 feet," meaning that it could throw the water that height. Another had on it, "243 feet. Beat that!" the Americans being very laconic in all their public communications. The regular plan on which most of the American towns are built and the division into wards, give great facilities for showing where a fire takes place; balls are shown from the top of a high tower to direct the engines where to go, the number of balls pointing out the ward where the fire exists.

Another grand invention, which we found here as well as everywhere else, is their sewing machine. These sewing machines wearied us very much when we landed at New York, for they seemed to be the one idea of the whole country; and I am afraid we formed some secret intentions to have nothing to do with them. I had seen them in a shop window in the City, in London, but knowing nothing of their merits, almost settled in my own mind they had none. At last I found how blind I had been, and what wonderful machines they are. There are numbers of them of various degrees of excellence. They are so rapid in their work, that if a dress without flounces is tacked together, it can be made easily by the machine in a morning: a lady here showed me how the machine is used; she told me it is so fascinating that she should like to sit at it all day. She works for her family, consisting of a husband and nine sons, and takes the greatest pleasure in making all their under clothing; and working as she does, not very constantly, she can easily do as much as six sempstresses, while the machine, constantly worked, could do as much as twelve. The work is most true and beautiful and rapid, and the machine must be an invaluable aid where there is a large family. It is much used also by tailors and shoemakers, for it can be used with all qualities of materials, whether fine or thick. The price of one is from 15l. to 25l. It requires a little practice to work at it, but most American ladies who have large families possess one, and dressmakers use them a great deal.

November 4th.—To return to this town of mud and mire, we have been nearly up to our knees in both to-day, and went on board one of the large steamers, but found it was not nearly so grandly fitted up as the one in which we went from New York to Newport. There is an enormous fleet of steamers here, but the Mississippi still looked most dingy, muddy, and melancholy. We were given tickets this evening, to hear a recitation by a poet named Saxe, of a poem of his own, on the Press, and we soon found ourselves in an enormous hall about 100 feet by 80, nearly filled by a very intelligent-looking audience. A man near us told us that Mr. Saxe had a European reputation, which made us feel much ashamed of our ignorance, in never having heard of him before, and, unhappily, we came away no wiser than we went as regards the merits of his poetry; for though our seats were near him, there was something either in the form of the hall, or in the nature of his voice and pronunciation, which made us unable to hear what he said. There were bursts of laughter and applause at times from the audience, but we took the first opportunity of leaving.