It was evening when the train reached the end of our day's journey, and the party drove in a shower of rain to their quarters at the hotel.
Harrisburg has apparently seen its best days without having ever witnessed very good ones, but our means of judging were meagre indeed. The weather was bad, and our visit was very brief. It must be understood that I write of places as I see or find them, and the contrast between Philadelphia and the capital of the State of Pennsylvania, as we beheld it in the drive from the station to our hotel, was very marked in favour of the former. The shops in the main street belonged to the old country rather than to the new, and there was an aspect of "want of flourishing," as a friend said, which was not in keeping with the surroundings. And yet when John Harris, after his rescue from the Indians who were about to torture him and did not, though they did not foresee that they were about to be disposed of without torture, founded the city, less than a hundred years ago, on the banks of the Susquehanna, he had a very fine eye for a situation, and had fair grounds for thinking he had done a very good thing. But why was it made the State capital in 1812? Surely Philadelphia even then deserved the honour. We were told we should have put up at the Lochiel House (something to do with Simon Cameron who lives here, I suppose), but we did not, and that which was selected for the party was not of the first or second class. The sewers of the city were open, or only partially covered. The rats which played about in view of our sitting-room window were of a size of which Harrisburg may be justly proud, and I observed from the windows of the hotel many fine animals come up to take the air and see what was going on, with the style of well-to-do citizens, meaning no harm and fearing none. They were, perhaps, a little too numerous for the comfort of nervous people, though I will not aver that there is not plenty for them to do. The market-place across the way was ancient and dilapidated, or, as it was of wood, delignified.
It was not till a year before the Civil War Harrisburg received a charter, and at the moment of our visit the population did not number 80,000. A State House and Library, a State Arsenal, a State Lunatic Asylum, a County Prison, Opera houses, Masonic Hall, churches, Harris Park and Cemetery, and great ironworks, all unvisited, but duly enumerated by citizens zealous of the honour of their city, haunted conscientious tourists as things which ought to be seen, but they were not in the programme—we could not find them in the bond—and so they were taken for granted; not so the substantial interviews which had to be attended to, and the arrangements for visiting the Baldwin Iron and Steel Works, and Colonel Long's farm at Middleton, which were to be taken on our way to New York.
On the 6th we left Harrisburg, at 9 o'clock in the morning, for New York, visiting the famous Iron Works on our way, and halting at Middleton to inspect the farm of Colonel Long, which is one of the sights of the country, and which all the agriculturalists of the party declared was an exceedingly well-managed display of agricultural skill; an admirable exhibition of what may be done in the States to emulate the best establishments of the old country. The produce of the farm was pronounced to be excellent, the fields clean and well apportioned, beautiful pasture for stock, and fine arable for various crops, but the result of conversation with Colonel Long led some of the party to the conclusion that a farmer with good land in England can, at present prices, hold his own with any farmer in the Eastern States. The most interesting fact connected with the investigation was the discovery that the cultivation of tobacco is making great way in Pennsylvania, and that wheat has been abundant in consequence of the impossibility of competing with the West. Heavy manuring is requisite; nevertheless large tracts of Pennsylvania are passing under cultivation for tobacco-growing, and are stated to produce a weed almost equal to the best Maryland or Virginia.
But the coal and iron and the manufactures of this favoured region must ensure it a long continuance of the extraordinary prosperity which was visible on all sides, if the asses in their fatness do not kick over the traces. For many miles of the country over which we travelled yesterday the storm of war had rolled heavily, and every town near at hand had some record of suffering or lucky escape from Lee's invading host. The Confederates had come within six miles of Harrisburg. Martinsburg, Frederic—in fact, every town near at hand had felt the hand of the South at its throat, till at Gettysburg the blow was struck which paralysed it for ever. At Carlisle one of our friends mentioned incidentally that his house had been "shelled by that confounded Fitzhugh Lee"—our travelling companion of a few days before. There were strong expressions uttered by others concerning the partition of Virginia and the State debt, but these were mysteries to us, and all we could see was that, in spite of past sufferings, there was now a vigorous, healthy, wealthy life in the land, of which the signs and tokens were visible as far as the eye could reach in our long day's travel. Our railway directors studied maps and asked questions and made notes indefatigably, and they no doubt comprehended the connections and arms of the railroads which were spread over the country—a mighty range, and all with a plan—but I cannot pretend to share any of their knowledge, and can only say that we had a very pleasant, if somewhat warm, journey to New York, which we reached at 4.30 o'clock. Here we found a new wonder awaiting us in the aspect of the Falls River boat, on which we embarked for Boston at one of the piers on the North River. It was the happy idea of Mr. Crosfield that we ought to leave the iron road for a few hours and take to the water, and for it and much besides the members of the party were indebted to him. The service of the steamboat line is admirable. To begin with, the steamers (of which there are two, the "Bristol" and "Providence") are floating palaces for King Populus, of such vast dimensions that we could scarcely "take in" all at once that in which we were to make our voyage as it lay at the pier; its bright white side towering far above the roof of the wharf shed, with tiers of windows lighted up as if en fête, like an old three-decker at the least. Our surprise did not diminish when we got on board and found ourselves in a vast sort of gilt and painted courtyard, surrounded by galleries with many hundreds of passengers—a band playing, electric lights, a book-stall, newspapers, a restaurant, hairdresser's establishment, boot-cleaning corner, bar and liquor saloon, hot baths, cold baths—I should not like to say what that marine monster did not contain. There were waiters in neat, clean dresses, in swarms, and clerks and officers of the service in much gold lace and brass buttons—formidable as admirals, and civil as dancing-masters. The sleeping-saloons were perfectly arranged; and when the dinner or supper bell rang, and the streams of people were set in motion, it was if some small city was on the tramp. The great creature was moving! Up went the vast walking-beam on high, with the polished piston smoothly gliding from its case, and then, trembling in every airy plank to the beat of the mighty paddles, the steamer backed off into the stream, and with that indescribable tumult of creaks, squeaks, rattles and clatters, which may be taken as the breathing of this sort of thing, set off on its way rejoicing as a giant to run its course, and far better able to do it. There was light enough for us to see the city of New York, and the forest of steeples and towers above the serried lines of illimitable roofs, the fringe of masts and chimneys on one side, and the interesting islands where the Law, Medicine, and Charity have their palaces—Penitentiaries, Hospitals, Asylums, Nurseries, Refuges—and where Crime, Smallpox, Typhus, Idiotcy, and incurable Disease hold their separate courts in granite cells, and the Brooklyn shore, as the steamer threaded her way through the ruck of tugs, flats, coasters, ferry-boats, and steamers, big and little, to the great boil of waters well-named Hell Gate, in Long Island Sound—a veritable Maelstrom, which the engineers are blasting, boring, and blowing up and down as hard as they can. As we bore down the adverse fury of the swirling tideway with our irresistible wheels, the mighty vessel trembled with the strain, but we prevailed, and went through the Gate past the dredges, which were shovelling up the rocks from the bottom, and had time to enjoy the scenery of Long Island glorified by a fine sunset, ere darkness shut out all but the lights on shore, and those which marked out what to seek and avoid for the toiler on the seas. The course of the steamer for the greater part of the night lay in tranquil waters, for Long Island was on our right, and on our left was the shore of Connecticut; but after midnight I awoke, and had no doubt as to what the wild waves were saying, and looking out of my window saw a confused sea, to the lively forces of which our steamer was making unmistakable submission. A less confidence-inspiring craft for rough weather than our palace I thought I never had been in, and I was not dissatisfied when the trial of her powers was at an end, and the tyranny of the seas was overpast as we approached Newport and got under the shelter of Martha's Vineyard at some early hour in the morning. Says I to a nautical gentleman on the staff of the noble ship, "Would she cross the Atlantic, do you think?" "Certainly," quoth he, "if it wasn't bad weather." "Well! but how would she do in a gale?" "It would just be as well not to try, but if we could keep her head right to it there would not be much harm—no forcing, though—no, sir!" At Newport there was a great exodus of passengers and baggage about 3 o'clock, and some two hours later the steamer, passing up Narraganset Bay, arrived at Fall River, where we landed, and took our places in a train of the Old Colony Railroad for Boston. Fall River, which one might take to be a cascading stream, turned out to be an enormous manufacturing town of some 50,000 people, all factories, chimneys, and storehouses, and what we saw of Massachusetts as we ran through it gave us a higher idea of its commercial activity and manufacturing industry than of its natural advantages. I cannot say how many towns of note we skirted or ran through in our two hours' journey—glimpses of magazines, stores, warehouses, smoke-stacks, staring placards at intervals here and there, were all we knew of them; but the land did not seem rich nor the scenery attractive, and yet there are good crops to be had, and fruit is abundant and excellent. There is a long hard winter and an ardent summer here, and some of the weaker vessels among the Pilgrim Fathers (and mothers) must have often wished themselves back in the clammy East Countree on the German Ocean, or in their foster-mother Holland, when, like so many Calibans (for conscience' sake), they were persecuted by Indians, Witches, Quakers, and the climate, in the days before they were strong enough to persecute in their turn, and so reconcile themselves to atmospheric vicissitudes. Among our fellow-passengers in the "Gallia" was Mr. Washburn, ex-Governor of the State, and one of a very eminent band of brothers who have risen to deserved distinction in America, and to his kind offices were the Duke of Sutherland and his friends indebted for the graceful empressement of the leading men of Boston to do the honours of their city. On our arrival at the terminus we found every preparation had been made for our reception, and several gentlemen were in attendance to meet the Duke on the platform. Well-appointed carriages whirled the party off to one of the finest hotels in the world—"The Brunswick"—and not only that, but one of the most comfortable. How these old names hold! It is a long time since "Braunschweig" had aught to do with the "old Colony"—some time since the House of Hanover (from which we parted company in 1866) has had any relation to Massachusetts. There may be some good reason for the appellation of our excellent hostelry—it is quite enough to say it could not be sweeter or neater with any other name, and it made us reflect with some feelings of humiliation on the sort of accommodation an American would find in a large town in England till the recent improvements in the establishments which have chiefly sprung out of the enterprises of the great railways. The British colours floated above the building beside the Stars and Stripes—a compliment which was very much appreciated; and the good Bostonians allowed us fair time for breakfast and a little unpacking and settling down before they came to take the party in charge and show them over their noble city. Mr. Rice, formerly Governor of the State, Mr. Fitz, President of the Board of Trade, Mr. Beard, Collector of the Port, Alderman O'Brien, came as a committee to tender us all the civilities, and many more than we could accept, and had a programme, which even their kindness could not render of easy accomplishment, for the disposal of our time. First there was a long drive through the principal quarters of the town—innumerable phœnixes in marble, granite, iron, and brick, reared out of the ashes of the Great Fire nine years ago—Sears, Brewer, Franklin, Rialto, Cathedral and other Buildings, and monumental insurance offices and stores. Then there is a stately quarter built on land where was once water—on an artificial foundation made by filling up part of a shallow arm of the harbour called Back Bay. One peculiarity about the city is the localisation of trades and professions. If I had not seen their names on the brightest brass plates in the clearest of engraving, I could not have believed there were so many doctors and surgeons in any one city in the world. Surely they must practise on one another? They were in rows up and down long streets. And yet the citizens and citizenesses did not look unhealthy—rather otherwise—and the younger people mounted on street skates were portentously active on the pavements—pretty well-dressed little ladies doing the pas des patineurs with all their might, and sweeping resistlessly over the flags on their way from school. I am not going to describe Boston. There is a refrain in my ears, "All this was built since the fire!" I can only say the fire was a great regenerator. I could understand why Boston people are proud of their work, and I could look up at Bunker Hill without any sense of shame, as I beheld such a wonderful display of energy and progress in the fair city, with its monuments, statues, parks, public buildings, churches, and on the sea furrowed by keels and studded with sunny canvas. We were taken out on that same sea. The Collector, Mr. Beard, one of the most courteous of men, had the Government Revenue Cruiser prepared for a cruise in the harbour, and we examined the Navy Yard, the wharves, and the extension works, the forts, &c., with an interest which was enhanced by the intelligent explanations of our guides, varied with little discussions about Free Trade and Protection, the future of Boston, projected improvements, and general conversation, till it was time to return to land and finish with an inspection of more "objects" on shore. And then, to end the work of the day, there was an "informal dinner" at the Brunswick, to which the Duke and his friends were bidden without yea or nay—"it was quite informal." I presume that means, in Boston, an elaborate banquet. We were told, however, that it merely meant that we were to dress as we pleased, and that there were to be no set speeches. Alderman O'Brien presided; Governor Rice, Mr. Beard, Mr. Choate, President of the Old Colony Railroad, Genl. Wilson, President of the New York and North-Eastern Railroad, Mr. E. C. Fitz, Mr. Sears, Mr. Spaulding, Mr. Phillips, Aldermen Whitten, Haldemann, Slade, Curtis, Frost, Caldwell, &c., were our hosts, and our party was sandwiched pleasantly between our American friends—all point de vice—evening dress—flowers in buttonholes, flowers on the table, but "no formality." And then, just by way of an exception, Alderman O'Brien to do honour to the occasion, with a facility which showed that he had not lost the potestas loquendi attributed to his race, made an "informal" speech in proposing "informally" the health of the Duke, who made an informal reply, and from that time till the company broke up, towards midnight, there was a succession of toasts, speeches, speeches and toasts, till every man had had his turn at one and the other, and informality could do no more with a very pleasant evening. There was a good deal of railway talk, in which prophecy was not neglected. It so happened that among the guests or hosts was a gentleman whom I had met at the St. Patrick's dinner, New York, in 1861, and we had an agreeable conversation respecting the events of that time. I could not help thinking how very much changed was the tone in which slavery was discussed then from that in which it is now mentioned. On that occasion the American gentleman (one of the first men in New York, and by no means Irish except in name and descent) inveighed against Boston with something like ferocity. He declared that Mr. George Thompson, who had lectured on slavery long ago, was the most diabolical scoundrel who ever trod the earth, that the people of Boston ought to have hanged or burned him and Garrison and his accomplices in 1835, as the authors of the fearful war which was inevitable—the sure precursor of the disruption of the Union—for which Boston, represented by Mr. Sumner, was responsible, and he indignantly denounced the Bostonians—they who had fattened on the slave-trade and on the South—for their anti-slavery proclivities. There are not many who hold such opinions now. Bristol and Liverpool forget they ever made money out of "black ivory," and Boston has an equal right to take its share of the waters of Lethe. And so to bed.
May 8th.—By the kindness of Mr. Sears, seats were obtained for the whole party at the morning service in Trinity Church, a vast and highly ornate structure, of fine proportions externally, alight with gilding, profuse in mosaic, lavish in stained glass, and exquisite woodwork inside; a very noble temple, in good truth, if somewhat theatrical in effect, Romish, or more correctly Byzantine, producing the same sort of feeling that a Russian or Greek Church does on strangers not to the manner born; but still grand, rich, and luxurious. And the congregation, which filled every part of the sacred edifice, was suitable unto it. It was obviously composed of the great ones of the city—the cream of the Episcopalian flock—satined, silked, fine feathered, Paris bonneted, sleek hatted, glisteningly black, delicately perfumed—a very goodly company. The musical part of the service was evidently what might be called a feature of the attractions, though they be considered to culminate in the person of the pastor of the fold. The organ, an instrument of extraordinary size, power, and richness, was moved by skilful fingers to interpret passages which led one to imagine that the selector had acted on John Wesley's advice, "not to let the Evil one have all the good music to himself," and that he had invaded the repertoires of secular enjoyment in that way, and the choir delivered psalm and hymn with an artistic finish which at once gave rise to suspicions that it was not "wild warbling nature all beyond the reach of art." "Professional," I asked on a proper opportunity; "is it not?" "Not all; the tenor and the bass are, I think, and one or two others, perhaps." Well, the harmony was full and fine, and I preferred it to the unassisted efforts in that matter of rural religionists. It is mainly to the impetus of the personal character of the Rev. Phillips Brooks that the erection of this magnificent edifice and the maintenance of the service in such Christian state are due. The Book of Common Prayer was used with trifling variations—some small sacrifices to prudery or decency, or whatever words you will array them in; but to me the most interesting portion of the service was the part in it of the pastor—a man of great corpulence and stature, with a massive head cast in a mould to match, and features with a resemblance to those of Sydney Smith, or perhaps more nearly those of Charles James Fox. He was attired in black silk gown and bands, but did not, I think, show any academic badge. The sermon, which had for its text "Bow down the heavens, O Lord! touch the mountains, and they shall smoke!" delivered with extraordinary rapidity—sometimes, in fact, approaching to the verge of jumble—flowed on in a stream of language, often beautiful and occasionally grand, with a great clatter of metaphor, and a rolling noise of poetical images of a very pleasing character, for a long half-hour or more, without causing any desire for the preacher to desist; and indeed the ingenuity with which he illustrated and dragged in his unpromising text occasioned a series of intellectual shocks. The influence of Mr. Brooks must be, I think, as beneficial as it is powerful, and he has at all events given the world a splendid demonstration of what can be done by the voluntary principle in a wealthy democracy. It was not to his detriment, in the eyes of his stern Republican flock, that, on the occasion of a recent visit to Europe, he was received with favour in high places; or that "Your Queen Victoria had him to stay with her at Windsor Palace."
I was doomed to a great disappointment to-day after our return from church. A little excursion had been planned for the party by Mr. Sears to visit Harvard University and a pilgrimage to Longfellow, at Cambridge, and I was up in my room waiting for a summons to join the party, when it was said by some one he believed I had gone out, or would not go, and so they drove out without me, and I "was left lamenting." Had I been a revengeful person, I might have taken pleasure in the thought that they had an utterly abominable drive, for there was a bitter wind and clouds of the finest and most choking dust, but I was very sorry indeed. The "old man eloquent" was delighted to welcome the Duke, whom, as a boy, he remembered well at the time of his lengthened visit to England, when he was a frequent and honoured guest at Stafford House, where he was held in great esteem by the gracious lady who presided. He was courteous to all the other visitors; but they did not place a heavy tax on his patience, for they had to go over Harvard, where they were received by some of the authorities and conducted over the University, and then the inevitable drive through the city had to be accomplished. As for me, despite the dust and wind, I walked through some of the staid, discreet, and sombre streets and squares of opulent merchantdom, all very quiet and decorous, with fair faces at the windows, and groups of prettily dressed children in the balconies, and went to the Somerset Club and to the Union Club, which had extended their courtesies to the strangers, and left cards. I had the fortune to foregather for a while with Mr. L. Curtis, an old acquaintance of the time of the Prussian occupation of Versailles, when his venerable father—a veteran of the United States navy—and family, were caught there by the flood of invaders, as they were about to escape from Paris. We had an early dinner, and then had to prepare for another flitting, about which some of us were much exercised, for it was to take us back to New York again! I must confess to a sense of shame at such a hurried visit to the "hubbiest" of American cities. The excuse was, that there was an imperious desire on the part of our directors to see the Hudson River Line, and Albany, the capital of the State of New York, and so at 10 P.M. we were "all on board" and rattling in a Wagner palace-car over rather a rough line down South; needless to say, we did not see much of the country, though it was not easy to sleep, owing to the jumpiness of the carriages.
May 9th.—Next morning before 6 o'clock, after a journey of 230 miles, we were delivered on the platform of the station in New York. All our roads lead to it apparently! We walked through the silent streets to Sherwood House, in Fifth Avenue, where a welcome and excellent breakfast had been ordered. The arrangements, the air, and the perfect repose of the place produced a most agreeable impression. The landlord informed us that it was almost exclusively frequented as a family hotel, and that when the New York season was over he closed his doors, shut up his windows, and went off for his holiday. At 9.30 A.M. we were on our way to Albany accompanied by Mr. Vanderbilt, junior, and several of the directors of the New York Central and Hudson River Railroad Company. Americans are justly proud of the Hudson; it delights the eye of every traveller, and in some respects, particularly in the beauty of the autumn foliage, it excels the most famous rivers of Europe. All the more ought they to wage war against the disgusting outrages on the face of nature which are permitted to disfigure its banks. The very stones prate of the whereabouts of some loathsome quack or some ludicrous nostrum, and aggravating repetitions of the same names and specifics, painted in staring colours, mile after mile, force the philanthropic traveller to sigh for a measure of dynamite, and to thirst for the ruin of the miscreants who so disturb his peace. The Hudson river-side close to the capital is not very inviting; the works of the Elevated Railway, which is preparing for a tremendous spring over its Harlem tributary, do not appeal to one's sense of the beautiful; and a squatter population in what one of my friends called "very squattery shanties" does not prepare the traveller for the long stretch of maisons de plaisance, country houses, airy villages, and flourishing townlets which greet his eye as the train speeds in close to the edge of the left, or east, bank. The sheer, precipitous downfall of rock, at the opposite side, called the Palisades, soon comes in view. It may be dimly thought out that the appearance of the trap rock, which is ranged in perpendicular columns, suggested the name. The formation continues for nearly twenty miles, at an elevation of from 200 to 300 feet, and the summit is fringed with trees. Needless to say, with such a city as New York below, and with densely populated banks above, the broad sweeps of the beautiful Hudson displayed an infinity of navigating craft—steamers, ships, trim coasters, fishing-boats, net-poles and buoys near the banks marked the haunts of the much-prized and inexhaustible shad.
There is much of the interest of American history connected with the Hudson, and there is the wider interest of all English-speaking races attached to it by the associations with the scenery of Washington Irving and his charming creations. An Englishman can forgive the death of André for the sake of Sunnyside and Tarrytown. We pass the Convent of the Ladies of the Sacred Heart, who would have been roused out pretty quickly by the Pilgrim Fathers and their children—the wide expanse of the Tappan Zee, where Henry Hudson's galliots found great comfort and much astonished the Red-man—"Sing Sing"; the vast state prison, connected in my mind with a joke, too good to be lost, of the time of the (United States) civil war. It was made à propos of a certain Prince of Salm-Salm, who came to offer his sword to the Federal Government at Washington. His title puzzled Mr. Seward. "Psalm-Psalm!" he exclaimed. "Where on earth does he come from, I wonder." "Very probably from 'Sing Sing,'" replied the person whom he addressed. But the gallant German Prince, it needs not to be said, was a soldier of unblemished name and honour.
The Croton Aqueduct, at the other side, which supplies New York, forty miles away, with water, commences at the lake some miles higher up than the station, and we were obliged to hear that the quality of its water was not strained, and that it needed boiling; but that may be a calumny, and I do not think any of us made even one trial to disprove the fact. The scenery beyond Peekskill, at the stretch of river called the Highlands, made me make a mental vow, which will, I fear, never be kept, that I would return and vegetate in one of the hotels of which we caught glimpses in the trees on the slopes of the mountains, which in grand and varied outlines tower over the stream.