At dinner we met Mr. Rutherford, who begged us to go after the lecture to see his observatory, in which, he said, he had the best and largest telescope in America, not excepting the one at Washington; we went therefore to see it, though the lecture was not over till half-past ten, and were repaid by a sight of Jupiter, and his belts and satellites: but though the telescope was larger than the one at Washington, being of the same focal length, and having an object glass nearly two inches wider, it did not strike us as being so clear and good an instrument. It is undoubtedly, however, a very fine one, and entirely of American make. Much as we have had to record this day, there was more jumbled into it; but instead of going to see the last sight I have to record, it obtruded itself upon us at every turn. This was a military procession, flags flying, &c., to commemorate the evacuation of the town of New York by the British, after the first war of Independence. A great dinner is always given on this day by the members of the Order of Cincinnati, and Papa was asked to go to it, but our engagement to Mr. Russell prevented his accepting the invitation.
I think the only further thing of interest which I have to record about our visit this time to New York, was our calling on Dr. Tyng; he is a most interesting person, and talked much about revivals and slavery. He said there was undoubtedly a greater degree of serious feeling gradually spreading in New York, especially among the artisans and labouring classes; but he could see nothing of that work of the Spirit on the large scale which others speak of, and he thinks the nature and extent of the revivals have been over-estimated.
With regard to slavery, Dr. Tyng is a very good judge, as, for the first six years of his ministry, he had a considerable parish in the slave state of Maryland, extending over a large tract of plantation lands, cultivated entirely by slaves. The slave population in this parish was about 8000, and he says the treatment of the slaves was almost all that could be desired for their temporal comfort, as far as good clothing, good food, and kind treatment went, and he had known but very few cases of slaves being ill-treated or even flogged during his six years' residence there: still no one can condemn more strongly than he does the whole system, as lowering and degrading the moral tone, both of the white and the black population.
As I shall probably have no occasion to allude again to slavery, as the rest of our short stay on this continent will now be among the free states, I may say I have seen nothing to lessen, and everything to confirm, the strong impression I have always entertained respecting it. Besides what we have seen, we have read as much as we could on the subject, and must record a little book called "Aunt Sally, or the Cross the Way to Freedom," as being the most faithful account of the evils of slavery we have met with. It is the story of a female slave's life, and is said to be strictly true and devoid of all exaggeration, and it is a most touching account of the power of religion in her case, in upholding her through a long life of trials and degradation.[15]
On Friday, the 26th instant, we took our final leave of New York. We left it by the Hudson River Railway, the same by which we went to West Point two days after our arrival in America, and it was curious to contrast our feelings on getting into the cars now with those which we experienced when we first set our foot into them; we thought at first that we never could encounter a long journey in them, and dreaded all sorts of disasters. Yet now, independently of steamboat travelling, we have travelled altogether in railways over more than 5500 miles, and it is somewhat singular that in the great number of separate journeys we have taken, we have only on one occasion been late on arriving at our destination, which was on reaching Chicago. The train was then two hours late in a journey of 281 miles, and that not owing to any accident, but solely to the slippery state of the rails, after a heavy rain, which rendered caution necessary. The only hitch from accident (if it was one), was for five minutes at Rome, on the New York Central Railway, when we were delayed for that time, on account of what William told us was "something wrong with the engine." We have only 200 miles left to travel between this and Boston, and we have great reason to be thankful for having performed so long a journey not only in perfect safety, but without any anxiety, and scarcely any fatigue.[16]
One marked improvement in the eastern over the western railways, is in the gentlemen's special accomplishment of spitting being much less active in the east, owing to their chewing tobacco less vigorously. In the west it is dreadful to see and hear how this habit goes on during the whole day, not out of window, but on the floors of the cars and omnibuses, and all over the hall and passages of the hotels.
But to return to our journey from New York on the Hudson. It was a beautiful day, and the scenery quite lovely. We had only twenty-seven miles to go to Mr. Bartlett's, to whom we had brought letters from England, and who asked us to pass the first night of our journey at his country place near Tarrytown. On arriving at the station there, he drove us to his house, which stands on an eminence three miles higher up the river. The river here is rather more than three miles in width, but the atmosphere was so clear that every house on the opposite bank could be distinctly seen, and the opposite shore is so high, that we could hardly imagine the river to be as wide as it is. The view from the house is perfectly magnificent. The eye takes in a distance of thirty miles up and down the river, there being here a long reach, having almost the appearance of a lake, the river above and below not being more than from a mile to a mile and a half in width. Immediately opposite Tarrytown is the town of Nyach, which is connected with Tarrytown by a steam ferry. In passing from Tarrytown to Mr. Bartlett's house, we drove through the Sleepy Hollow, the scene of one of Washington Irving's tales, and passed the old Dutch church, which is mentioned by him in the legend, as the place of sanctuary where Ichabod took refuge. In fact, the whole scenery is classic ground here; and Mr. Irving himself, who has rendered it so, lives only two miles off, at Sunnyside.
After giving us some luncheon, Mr. Bartlett took Papa a walk up a high hill behind the house, the view from which he describes as perfectly enchanting; but it would be difficult for anything to surpass the one seen from the house, combining every possible feature of wood, hill, dale, and water; but if I cannot describe this, it would be equally impossible to describe the perfect taste and beauty of the house itself. The chief features are the carving of the wooden staircase, the chimney-pieces in the library and dining-room, and of the book-cases in the library. The carpet of the drawing-room was Aubusson tapestry, and the furniture was entirely from French patterns or imported from Paris, where it was made on purpose for the different rooms; every part of the house, including the bed-rooms, was filled with choice engravings. One bed-room specially struck us, the paper and chintz furniture of which were exactly of the same pattern of roses on a white ground, and the effect was beautiful; but there were many others in equally good taste, all with French papers. Hot and cold water were laid on in the rooms, and hot air likewise, though not so as to be in the least oppressive. Mrs. Bartlett's bed-room and dressing-room were the climax of all. The woodwork throughout the house was varied in every story: there was black oak, red pine, and white pine, all of very fine grain; the hall was covered with encaustic tiles from Minton's; the offices were in keeping, dairy, laundry, &c. Papa went over the farm and gardens, which were in the same exquisite order; and there were greenhouses and hothouses, which looked at a distance like a little Crystal Palace. Mrs. Bartlett is a very amiable person, but a great invalid, and seldom leaves her room.
This morning we proceeded on our way to this place; before getting into the train at twelve o'clock, we drove over to Sunnyside; but, alas! Mr. Irving was out, and we could only walk about his grounds, and peep in at his study window. As this brought us to Tarrytown sooner than we counted upon, I had time to climb up one of the hills, and much enjoyed the view, although it was not so extensive as the one Papa saw yesterday. As we got northward, on our way to Albany, the snow, which had almost disappeared at Tarrytown, became very deep, the land was covered with a white garment, and the river partially with a coating of ice. At Hudson, opposite the Catskill mountains, we, for the first time, saw sledging, sledges having there taken the place of the usual carriages which come to meet the train. There were many carts, also, and an omnibus, all on sledges, and the whole had a singularly wintry appearance.
We are housed again at the Delavan House, and find the twenty-four damsels have donned long sleeves to their gowns, which are now of dark cotton instead of pink; but their hoops are as large, and their faces as impudent as ever, forcing Papa to restrain his grin, particularly when they stand in double file on each side of the table, all in the same pose, with their arms crossed before them, when we enter the dining-room.