CHAPTER III.
RESIDENCE IN NEW YORK.—FIRES.—NEGROES—BOARDING HOUSES.—DRESS.
Fires are here alarmingly numerous, and frequently of unprecedented magnitude. The firemen are a body of volunteers amounting to between three and four hundred. They are viewed by their fellow citizens, as a class of respectable men; and as occupying a station somewhat similar to our local cavalry. They spend their time in the execution of their arduous duties, and supply their own clothes, without receiving any remuneration, except the municipal privileges with which they are rewarded at the completion of their septennial term of servitude. I endeavoured to discover, if possible, what was the chief cause of these fires; but could arrive at no positive conclusion on the subject. I conceive the half smoked cigars, so plentifully disseminated in every direction, by men and boys of all ages, conditions, and colours, may be one reason; and I know of no other, unless it be the carelessness naturally produced by the eternal use of the spirit decanter.
The rates and premiums of Insurance companies are perhaps higher here than in any other part of the world; yet, in consequence of the numerous demands made upon them, these public bodies are continually failing. Custom reconciles us to all things; and fires are here so common, that these good citizens have no idea of the sensations such calamities produce with us. I remember an English gentleman venturing to state in public company, that in a large market town near the place of his birth, he only recollected one fire occurring in the space of above twenty years. I myself have no doubt of the truth of this assertion; yet it was received by those present, with marks of suspicion so glaringly evident, that I felt sorry that the narrator had hazarded his credit for veracity, without calculating upon the chances against producing proof.
Strange as it may appear, during our residence in New York and in the country, I never heard any well authenticated case of death occasioned by any of these fires: although first from motives of humanity, and afterwards, from curiosity, we constantly subjected this matter to a very close investigation. This appeared to me the more astonishing, because it is well known that in Europe, loss of life is too frequently the melancholy concomitant of these awful visitations.
I noticed some of their many fire engines; they are very handsome, and very, very small. They are universally acknowledged to be more powerful than ours. Indeed, the good citizens are very loud in their praises, and claim the honour of some inventions or improvements connected with them; and I will not pluck a single leaf or acorn from their civic crown, for which they pay so dearly, but will cheerfully acknowledge that their engines are of superior construction, and are kept in better condition than any other in the world.
They have hit upon a very ingenious device to direct the firemen to that part of the city where their assistance is required. Those who first give the alarm hasten to the City Hall, whose site occupies the highest ground in the city. The heavy alarm bell is instantly rung, and its sound is re-echoed by most of the ting-tangs in the steeples. A ball of crimson glass, containing a light, is then immediately exposed at the very apex of the observatory on the hall; and its relative position to the cupola serves as an index to point out the direction of the fire.
It is impossible to convey an exact idea of the frequency and magnitude of these awful incidents. From the flat roof of our residence, one evening, I saw three fires at the same time; two of them appeared to be of considerable magnitude; the other was only an oil and turpentine store. This united demand upon the exertions of the firemen was very perplexing to all parties. The people at the City Hall were undecided in what direction to place their crimson index; and so, with a view of directing to all the three points, they kept perpetually shifting it. The firemen, consequently, altered their course, in a corresponding direction to that pointed out by the ball; till the confusion became general, and the fires raged so alarmingly, that fears were entertained for the safety of the city. At length, the municipal authorities sent messengers, who sought out the firemen and dispersed them in proper directions; and thus happily averted the dreadful consequences.
The removing of wooden houses with brick chimney-stacks, en masse, is so commonly effected here, that to question its practicability would be the height of absurdity: yet I understand, that even this is treated by us with ridicule, as being a matter beyond the range of human possibility. How then can I hope for belief, in asserting that there are substantial brick houses in the city of New York, that have been removed from one side of the street to the other, without in the least degree, impeding the diurnal arrangements of their respective occupants? I will make no such assertion—I will only state, that such houses have been pointed out to me, and described as having been removed from a station on the opposite side of the street; and I freely confess I am sufficiently weak to believe it. I shall therefore content myself with inserting one of the many advertisements I have seen, which I copy from the New York Gazette, now before me; and leave my readers to conclude as they think proper.
“The Subscriber, respectfully informs the public, that he carries on, extensively, the business of
MOVING HOUSES