The western world; or, Travels in the United States in 1846-47: exhibiting them in their latest development, social, political and industrial; including a chapter on California

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY

OF CALIFORNIA

DAVIS

•mi

THE

WESTERN WORLD;

OR,

TRAVELS IN THE UNITED STATES
IN 1846-47:

EXHIBITING THEM IN THEIR LATEST DEVELOPMENT,
SOCIAL, POLITICAL, AND INDUSTRIAL;

INCLUDING A CHAPTER ON

CALIFORNIA.

WITH A NEW MAP OF THE UNITED STATES,

SHOWING THEIR RECENT TERRITORIAL ACQUISITIONS, AND
A MAP OF CALIFORNIA.

RY ALEX. MACKAY, ESQ.

OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER AT LAW.

IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

FOURTH EDITION.

LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.

in ©rtitnarg to f^er fftajestg.

1850.

t TB

THE WESTERN WORLD ;

on,
TRAVELS IN THE UNITED STATES, IN 1846-7.

CHAPTER I.

PARTY, PARTY-SPIRIT, ORGANIZATION, AND TACTICS.

Party inseparable from Popular Governments. — Difficulty at first ex
perienced of comprehending the scope or drift of American Party.
— Apparent Confusion, and its cause. — Zeal which characterises
American Party. — Progressive Career of the American Politician.
— The different Political Arenas in the Union. — The Township. —
The County.— The State and the United States.— Politics do not
interfere with Business in America. — Party Allegiance. — Political
Influence of Young Men in America. — Intelligence of the Ame
rican Partizan. — Violence of Party-spirit on the eve of an Elec
tion. — Peaceable manner in which Elections are conducted. —
Division of the Polling Districts.— Relative Position of Parties
with regard to the Questions at issue. — Difficulty at first of ascer
taining them. — Party systematized. — Local, subordinate to National
Party.— Primary Division of Party. — The Whigs.— The Demo
crats. — Their Principles and Characteristics. — The different States,
the Battle-fields of National as well as Local Party. — Parties as con
nected with the Commercial Question. — Party Names and Nick
names. — Organization and Tactics of Party. — Difficulty sometimes
experienced in controlling it. — Party Excitements in the Capital. —
Different Manifestation of Party Organization. — Party, in its na
tional aspect.— Its Machinery. — Mode of Action during an Electoral
Campaign. — Party Conventions. — The Dictatorial Attitude which
they have recently assumed. — Tyranny of Party. — " Compromise
Presidents." — Party Organization in the State, the County, and the
Township. — Extraordinary Demonstrations of Party. — Candidates
must be nominated, to have any chance of Success. — Conclusion.

To those unaccustomed to look below the sur
face of things, it may appear singular that, in a
VOL. II. B

2 THE WESTERN WOULD.

country where tire people have it all their own way,
such a thing as party, in its less favourable sense,
should be found to exist, or that violent party feeling
should be permitted to disturb the relations of civil
life. If government is ever really, as it is in all cases
professedly, wielded for the good of the masses, one
would, at first sight, naturally suppose that in the
United States, where the masses have all the depart
ments of the government in their own hands, that
object, and that alone, would be pursued, and that
the multitude, in quest of its own good, would be
led by its own instinct in the right path. Nor would
this be altogether a groundless supposition, were
people as wise as they might, or as patriotic as they
should be. But republicanism, even in its most un
diluted sense, is no cure for human folly, nor is the
most ultra-democracy a sovereign remedy for the
selfishness of man. Ignorance finds its ready instru
ments for mischief, even in the best of institutions ;
and self-interest is ever active in deranging the prac
tical working of what may be theoretically the best
adjusted political machine.

So far from the great modern republic being
the scene of political harmony and unanimity, it
is the most violent battle-field of party that the
world has ever seen. Men are not only led by con
flicting interests into antagonist positions, but there,
as elsewhere, they are found taking the most op
posite views of matters purely affecting the public
weal. And what gives to party, perhaps, a more
violent 'aspect in the United States than it assumes
in any other country, is that every man is, more or
less, an active party man, enticed into the political
arena not only by the excitements incident to the
scene, but also by the apparent ease with which his

THE WESTERN WORLD. 3

direct connexion with the machine of government
will enable him to subserve his own interests and
prosecute his own purposes. He feels that, if he
manages well, he can do himself, for himself, what,
in most other countries, it requires the aid of the
great and influential to secure. Generally speaking,
there are no intermediate influences between him
and his object, the good offices of which he must pur
chase with a price, be it in money, in abject sub
serviency, or by any compromise of his independence.
The door is open to him, which he can enter without
another's introduction, and once within which, he can
play his own game in his own way. With these
facilities and inducements, the difficulty appears to
be to avoid becoming a partizan. The republic is
one universal party field, and the number of politi
cians keeps pace with the census.

It is extremely difficult for a European, for some
time at least, to comprehend the drift or the spirit
of party in the United States. Before him is one
wide spread field of political activity, where opposing
forces encounter each other in singular combination
and constant evolution ; but it is only after long and
patient observation, that he can discern the views and
principles which conjure into being the moral phantas
magoria of which he is a puzzled witness. He is like
a man looking, for the first time, at a great and con>
plicated machine, with its cranks and wheels and
cylinders moving in all directions, and at every con
ceivable angle; and who, from the intricacy of its
mechanism and the complexity of its movement, is
for some time at a loss to discover the elementary
power from which proceeds the harmonious activity,
which transfuses the ingenious arrangement of inert

4 THE WESTERN WORLD.

matter before him. Confused as the political drama
in America at first appears to be, it is not without its
method, its plot, or its cast. The chief difficulty in
the way of its analysis lies in this, that the main
story is generally overcharged with underplot ; which,
instead of illustrating and aiding, only serves to
obscure and mystify it. It is after a close and careful
observation of its more imposing movements, as well
as of its constant and flickering evolutions, that the
stranger becomes apprised of its sources, its objects,
and its tendencies, and discovers party in America to
be a great moral banian-tree, with one principal, and
a multitude of minor roots.

One great source of confusion to the uninitiated
looker-on is found in the many divisions and sub
divisions into which parties resolve themselves in the
United States. Even on questions of general policy
they are not always found with the same dividing
line between them ; whilst they split into sections,
and fragments of sections, on matters of local and
minor importance. Parties are frequently found
battling furiously with each other, in the arena of
domestic politics, who are ready, on a moment's
notice, to combine against a common enemy on a
question involving the general interests of the con
federation. One wonders how, in the never-ceasing
melee, party allegiance is at all preserved. But, not
withstanding the apparent confusion, the discipline is
very perfect, as will hereafter be shown. It matters
not that both of the great parties may be rent to pieces
on minor points ; their different parts exhibit a won
derfully cohesive power when the struggle is one
which involves, in the remotest degree, supremacy in
the councils of the Union. Domestic quarrels are

THE WESTERN WORLD. 5

forgotten, or put in abeyance, until the common cause
is either vindicated or lost. Nay, sometimes a species
of double warfare is going on, men fighting side by
side on some questions, who are, at the same time,
inveterately opposing each other on others ; resorting
to the same ballot-box in one case, but dividing their
votes in another.

But whatever may be the question on the political
tapis, whether it be one simply involving the merits of
different candidates, or a point of national policy ;
whether it have relation to the domestic management
of a township, or to the foreign relations of the Union ;
there never seems to be the slightest abatement of
the virulence which distinguishes the incessant strife
of party. In the Old World, where party struggles,
generally speaking, turn upon great principles, where
the fight is between old systems and new, and mighty
moral forces are in the field disputing for the issue,
it is no wonder that great passions are evoked, or
that the spirit and enthusiasm of the multitudes
should sometimes rise to a pitch which is grand whilst
it is terrible, dangerous whilst it is sublime. But
nothing can be more ludicrous than the contrast,
which is not unfrequently exhibited, between the
stereotyped zeal of the American politician and the
petty objects on which it is expended. The grand
principles for which the people elsewhere are still
fighting, and which give to political warfare its more
dignified and imposing forms, have all been conceded
to him, and the greatest range which his political
vision can now take is confined to practical questions
of domestic bearing. In the part which he takes in
reference to these, he exhibits the same energy that
is elsewhere displayed in the contest for principles
of universal application. In his township, in his

6 THE WESTERN WORLD.

county, in his State, and in his more important capa
city as a citizen of the United States, he is the same
active and impetuous politician, seeming to know but
little difference between one question and another, so
far as the gauging of his zeal, in respect to them, is
concerned. It is not to be doubted but that the con
tests in which he is sometimes called upon to act his
part are, in their results, of the greatest national
importance, when the excitement which pervades the
country is not altogether disproportioned to the mag
nitude of the issue : but the eagerness and virulence
with which the pettiest points are battled for, is more
the result of the constant political skirmishing which
is going on, than of the importance which is attached
to them. To the commercial man, business occasion
ally brings its " slack time ;" to the farmer, the mu
tations of season now and then offer repose ; but to
the American, in his political capacity, there is no
rest. From one end of the year to the other, his
attention in this respect is never permitted to flag : he
is constantly oppressed with the multitudinous duties
of sovereignty ; and, as he shares the popular diadem
with his neighbours, he is brought into daily concert
or collision with them, as the case may be, until,
at length, political strategy becomes a habit of his
life.

In all countries Mammon has his worshippers, of
whose sincerity there can be no question. But, as
there is no other country in the world where wealth
gives such ready distinction to its possessors, or where
fortunes can be so successfully scrambled for, there is
perhaps none in which it is so eagerly coveted as in
America. But it is not the only thing that gives dis
tinction — official position placing its occupant side by
side with the man of wealth. In the United States,

THE WESTERN WORLD. 7

particularly in the Northern States, the wealthy
classes are generally confined to the towns ; the sys
tem by which land is parcelled out and held, prevent
ing the growth of a rural aristocracy. It is seldom,
therefore, that wealth is found concentrated in one
hand in the rural districts. The consequence is that,
to the great bulk of the farmers, this avenue to social
distinction is closed. Not so, however, with political
offices. These, particularly such as are of a local
character, they retain almost exclusively in their own
hands. The first field for the country politician is
the township, which has its own school districts and
its school commissioners ; its road and bridge com
missioners ; its justices of the peace, &c, ; which offices
afford the only source of social distinction in the
localities in which they are held. They are all elec
tive ; and if a man does not care for taking the field
for his own purposes, he is dragged into the little con
tests which ensue at the solicitation of his more am
bitious neighbours. Having once taken his place in
the political arena of his township, he can never
afterwards recede, — his vote in the balance of parties
being seldom to be dispensed with. Once a town
ship politician, his views generally expand, so as to
embrace a wider field, and the one next in order — his
county. He may in some instances be very unwilling
to venture on the larger stage, but, in nine cases out
of ten, the exigencies of his party throughout the
county force him upon it. Besides, to the majority,
the county offices are a more tempting bait than
those of the township ; and such of the county poli
ticians as are not contending for them on their own
account, seek to confer them on their personal or
political friends. In some of the States, such as New
York, the county offices are of a legislative, as well

8 THE WESTERN WORLD.

as a ministerial or executive character ; each county
in that State having its Board of Supervisors, who
constitute a little parliament, which legislates in its
capital on all matters connected with the finances,
the roads and bridges, the schools, &c, of the county.
Like the township offices, those of the county are,
generally, speaking, in the hands of the Agricultural
class. It is not the fate of the county politician,
even when he is desirous of so doing, to confine him
self to his county. Once upon that platform, his
horizon expands until it embraces his State. He
may be one of the few who care little for State
honours and dignities himself, but his party cannot
afford to have him indifferent, and he is dragged into
the vortex of State politics. Here, for the first
time, he finds his own class in serious competition
with the other classes of the community. The lawyer
and the merchant may not unfrequently be found in
the ranks of the county officials, but in the scramble
for the offices of the State, the farmer has generally
to take his chance with them. The bulk of the
legislative bodies are usually farmers, but the ma
jority of influential and leading men in them belong
to the other classes. The agricultural politician is by
no means debarred from State preferment, but the
loaves and fishes of the more extended arena are not
so exclusively his perquisites as are those of the
township and the county. Even when he confines
his own personal views to his county, the instances
are very rare in which he confines his political ex
ertions to county questions. By the time he has
become the perfect county politician, he is too
thoroughly imbued with the political spirit to refrain
from taking his part in all the political contests of
the State, whilst the more enterprising and ambitious

THE WESTERN WORLD. 9

only make the county the spring-board, from which
they bound in due time into a wider and a more
enticing field. Once thoroughly embarked in State
politics, their next ambition is to take their part in
national affairs, and to appear upon the platform of
the Union.

This is the great aim and object of the aspiring
politician, to attain which he makes use of all the
minor stages only as so many steps in his progress.
A man never becomes known to the nation as a
politician, until he transcends the political bounds of
his State. He may be a leading man in New York
or Ohio, for instance, but unless he happens to have
been long a Governor of his State, or to have largely
identified his name in his own locality with some
question of great national import, it is only by his debut
at Washington that he becomes known to the rest of the
confederacy. Thus it is that men, who are very great
men at home, find themselves frequently utterly
unknown, even in the neighbouring State, and par
ticularly so on their first appearance in the federal
capital. Such as cannot secure a footing on the
federal stage, or care not for getting it, enter more
disinterestedly, but in most cases quite as eagerly,
into the contest as their more successful or ambitious
fellows; the township, county, and state discipline
having made every man not only a politician, but a
warm and even violent partizan.

With so many spheres of action before him in
regular gradation, and with so many calls as a political
integer upon his attention, one might, at first, think
that politics must be the sole business of life in
America. It is really surprising, considering the
amount of time which is annually devoted to politics,
that the ordinary affairs of life are at all attended to.
B3

10 THE WESTERN WORLD.

Nobody ever thinks of accusing the American farmer
of being forgetful of his plough, or the merchant of
being negligent in the transaction of his business,
from over-attention to the affairs of State. With the
most unremitting devotion to politics, they combine
the greatest industrial activity. This is very much
owing to their party discipline. The greatest inroad
upon time, especially upon that of the farmers, is
occasioned by their personal attendance at elections ;
but these, numerous as they are, have been so
arranged as to the period of their occurrence, as to
occasion the least possible loss in this respect. The
rest is managed by a system of political organization,
which enables the man of business, be he farmer,
merchant, or mechanic, to attend to his business
without relaxing his hold upon his party, or dimi
nishing the influence which he may conceive himself
entitled to exercise over it.

The American party-man may be the follower, but
he is never the blind follower of a leader. In a
country which is one great industrial and political
hive, and where every man is a politician, no matter
what may be his station in life, it is not to be wondered
at that some should be met sublimely ignorant of
what they are contending for. But, taking the great
mass of American politicians, their party predilections
are less the result of accident than of inquiry ; their
party loyalty does not spring from a blind but from
an intelligent allegiance. In countries where educa
tion is less universally diffused than it is in the United
States, parties consist of a few leaders, and a great
body of unintelligent followers. Even in our own
country, how very few of the multitude really think
for themselves ! The American, on the other hand,
is from his earliest boyhood inured to politics and

THE WESTERN WORLD. 11

disciplined in political discussion. The young blood
of America exercises an immense influence over its
destiny. Perhaps it would be better were this other
wise. Frequently are elections carried, in different
localities, by the influence exercised upon the voters
by the active exertions of young men, who have, as
yet, no vote themselves. Majority js one of the con
ditions to possessing a vote ; but a minor may, and
often does, make exciting party speeches to an
assembly composed of men, many of whom might in
dividually be his grandfather. Nor is this regarded
as in any degree out of the ordinary course of nature,
the more elderly politicians being rather pleased than
otherwise at the precocity of those who are about to
supersede them ere they become their successors.
The consequence of this is, that the party-man in
America is almost always able to define his position,
to point out the precise line of demarcation between
himself and his opponents, and to sustain his own side
of a question by argument, which may be fallacious,
but which is nevertheless ingenious and intelligent.
Enter, for instance, in the evening, an unpretending
farm-house, and it is a chance if, after the labour of
the day, you do not see the occupant in his home
spun grey, reading his newspaper by the fireside ; for
both he and his family can invariably read, and he
thinks that the least he can do for his party is to sus
tain the local party newspaper, many receiving, in
addition to this, their daily metropolitan paper. In
conversing with him, you will generally find, if you
leave him to himself, that, as a duck takes to water,
so does he very soon take to politics. The markets
and a few other topics may receive a passing atten
tion, but the grand theme is politics ; and you will be
surprised by the ease and readiness with which he

12 THE WESTERN WORLD.

speaks upon the most intricate national questions.
For the last fifteen years, no question has occupied so
large a share of the public attention as that of the
" Sub-treasury," the dispute on which turned on the
best mode, not only for the collection, but also for the
safe keeping and disbursement of the public revenue,
involving, at the same time, the whole question of a me
tallic and a mixed currency. With the pros and cons
on this, as on all other political topics, I found the
farmers, in the remotest districts, not all equally, but
all tolerably conversant, each man being able to as
sign an intelligent reason for the side which he took
and the vote which he gave. Nor are their minds
biased by viewing a subject only on one side, the
newspapers of one party frequently agreeing to pub
lish speeches and dissertations opposed to their own
views, provided those of the other will do the same
with regard to them. Thus a county newspaper, in
the Democratic interest, will publish Mr. Webster's
speech in full on a particular subject, if the Whig
and opposition organ will do the same with Mr.
Benton's on the same subject ; an arrangement by
which their readers are enabled to consider, at their
leisure, both sides of a question. The party-man,
whose mind is thus schooled and disciplined, is seldom
the man to be bought or bribed. That bribery is
practised in the United States is too true ; but it is
on very different material, as will be immediately
shown, that it successfully operates. It may be that
party is more easily managed when each man thinks
less for himself, and becomes more readily the mere
instrument of others ; and that, so constituted, it may
serve all the purposes of mixed governments ; but
in a country like America, where the safety of the
State rests with the intelligence of the masses, they

THE WESTERN WORLD. - 13

did well for their fellow-countrymen who first laid
the foundation of that universal system of education,
which enables the American of the present day to
combine in himself the apparently incompatible cha
racters of a violent, and yet a reasoning politician.

It is not to be supposed that, when the very atmo
sphere is infected with it, the American ladies escape
the contagion of politics. But whilst they are quite
ready to discuss questions which have but little to do
with their own appropriate sphere, an active female
politician is a phenomenon of rare occurrence in the
United States. They freely vindicate their preroga
tives of speech; but it is seldom that a Georgiana
of Devonshire is comprised in their ranks.

To appreciate the violence of party spirit in
America, it must be witnessed on the eve of an elec
tion. From the rabid manner in which the news
papers then attack each other, and all those^ wlio are
opposed to them ; from the speeches uttered at
public meetings, and the determination evinced by
both parties to achieve a victory, the inexperienced
stranger imagines that the country is certainly on the
eve of a catastrophe. It is with rather unpleasant
misgivings that he opens his eyes on the critical day of
election, during which, judging from the premonitory
symptoms, he makes up his mind that not a throat
will be left uncut — not a bone unbroken. But to
his surprise the whole evaporates in smoke, the poll
proceeding in the quietest possible manner; and a
President of the United States, or a Governor of a
State, or some other officer, is peaceably made or
unmade, by men who can look one another very kindly
in the face, after having, but yesterday, said such
hard things of each other. The mode in which the

14 THE WESTERN WORLD.'

elections are conducted has been devised chiefly with
a view to the saving of time, and the preservation of
the public peace. An election is generally over in
one day, no matter how many offices, federal, state, or
county, have to be filled by it. Both towns and
counties are divided into districts, each district having
its own poll, and being so small that but a fraction
of the electoral body votes in it. Being thus sepa
rated from each othera but a few hundred voters
meeting at each polling place, the numbers assembled
together never become formidable, and the election
is over before they can unite and get up any dangerous
excitement. There are no hustings at which nomi
nations take place and speeches are delivered, so
prolific of excitement and tumult in this country,
during an electoral contest. The nominations are
made, and the speeches are delivered elsewhere ;
nothing occurs at the poll, from its opening to its
close, but the depositing of votes in the ballot-boxes.
Perhaps in the whole electoral history of America
a more exciting time was never witnessed than that
which immediately preceded the elevation of General
Harrison to the presidency. Throughout the Union,
upwards of two millions of votes were polled on that
occasion, more than double the number ever polled
in the United Kingdom, and nearly ten times the
number of the whole electoral body of France under
the Orleans dynasty ; and yet not a life was lost at
that election, whilst scarcely a drop of blood was
drawn. Fatal affrays sometimes take place, but they
are rare considering how numerous are the occasions
on which they might arise, and are invariably con
fined to the large towns, where it is not always easy
to keep the dregs of the rabble in subjection.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 15

When one gradually, by the study of American
politics, brings himself into the position of an Ame
rican partizan, he is not only able to distinguish the
lines which separate political questions from each
other, but also to appreciate the relations which the
different parties respectively bear to the various points
at issue. When one enters a large factory, unpre
pared for what he is to witness, it is not easy,
amid the buzz and whirl of the machinery, to under
stand, in the first place, what is being done, and in
the next, the mode in which it is effected. It is pre
cisely so with the Maelstrom of American party — it
is one thing to understand party questions, quite
another to comprehend the relations of the different
parties towards them— for parties so separate and unite,
that it is difficult to distinguish permanent from occa
sional opponents. Generally speaking, there is but
little in their names which can serve as an index for
the stranger to their political principles. It is all very
well to understand the points at issue, but who,
having gone no further than this, can tell what it is
that Democrats, Democratic Republicans, Loco-focos,
Nullifiers, Seceders, Federalists, Whigs, and a variety
of other parties, are driving at ? Some of these appel
lations, it is true, are suggestive of the principles
which are contended for under them, but it is not so
with all the party names in the United States. Some
of them are the names assumed by parties themselves,
and had originally a meaning, which, if not since
lost, has at all events become obscure ; whilst others
are mere nicknames invented for them by their oppo
nents, as the Tories in this country have been in the
habit of designating all as Radicals, who have stood
out for reform and national progress. Nor does the

16 THE WESTERN WORLD.

designation of newspapers always afford a clue to the
principles which they advocate. It is not rare to find
the " Democrat " of a particular place the foe of
democratic, and the organ of whig principles ; or a
long-established paper called the " Whig," doing
battle in its neighbourhood, in the cause of the most
undiluted Jeifersonian democracy. There is thus a
great difficulty, — from the multitude of points which
arise, of a general and local character, and the mul
titude of parties which contend for them, under their
different banners and designations, — in ascertaining,
after the points in dispute are mastered, who they are
precisely that are in favour of, and who against, a
particular one. The only way to solve the problem
satisfactorily, is to sift both questions and parties
carefully, distinguishing between such as are of a
general, and such as are of a purely local character.
This once done, it is no difficult matter afterwards to
scramble through the political labyrinth. Chaotic as
party in the United States at first sight appears to
be, it resolves itself into a regular system, easily
comprehended, when the spectator selects the proper
point of view.

The only satisfactory position to occupy in taking
the survey is the federal platform, from which parties,
in all their ramifose relations to each other, are to be
seen at a glance. The whole then appears to be com
posed of one general system, with a number of petty
systems in active revolution around it. Party ob
serves the same subordination, in the arrangement of
its different parts, as do the political institutions of
the country. Party, in its local sense, is wholly sub
ordinate to party in its general signification. Each
of the great parties takes root in national questions ;

THE WESTERN WORLD. 17

and although they may ramify, in a thousand direc
tions, in permeating the masses, they all tend back
again to the same great trunk, when any national
struggle is before them. It is a mistake to believe
that the great party warfare of America is of a sec
tional character; party conflicts may originate in
sectional differences, but the line which separates the
combatants is seldom a geographical one. The inte
rests of the east may not always be compatible with
those of the west, but there are no eastern and western
parties, separated from each other by the Alleganies.
The policy of the north may not always be recon
cilable with the interests of the south ; but there
are no northern and southern parties, with Mason and
Dixon's line as their point of separation. The
manufacturers of the north find some of their
staunchest supporters in the representatives of the
south ; whilst the cotton-growers of the south are
powerfully supported by large numbers of all classes
of politicians in the north. Even the question of
Slavery itself does not entirely partake of the sectional
character. The stronghold of slavery is the south,
and that of abolitionism the north ; but the friends
of freedom are not confined to the one, nor are the
advocates of servitude to be exclusively found in the
other. Questions, in their immediate bearing, may
be chiefly of sectional or geographical importance ;
but the parties who contest them, can seldom, if ever,
be distinguished by their geographical position. It
is quite common, for instance, to find men warmly
contending with each other, on a point chiefly inter
esting to the south, amid the frozen wastes of Maine
on the north-east, or in the far north-west, amid the
more sunny solitudes of Illinois.

18 THE WESTERN WORLD.

In national politics, then, we find the great and
primary source of American party. Welling from
this exhaustless reservoir, it flows forth in two mighty
streams, which become broken in their volume, and
intersect each other's channels, as soon as they tran
scend the limited bounds of the federal territory, until,
at length, they become so divided and subdivided in
the distance as to lose their distinctiveness, except to
the observer on the spot. But let an occasion of
periodic reaction arise, and as the veins send back
their blood by different routes to the heart, so do all
these distant streamlets return their waters into the
main channel, to concentrate once more the volume
of party into a united and compact mass, so as to act
with effect in the pending contest. Parties primarily
divide into Whigs and Democrats — in whose ranks
the whole community is comprehended. Whatever he
may be at home, in his state, in his county, or in his
township, with regard to local matters, every Ame
rican belongs to one or the other of the national
parties, and is either a Whig or a Democrat.

The origin of these parties has been already alluded
to, in treating of the political aspect of the Union.
They partake of no sectional characteristic ; both
being transfused throughout the entire mass of so
ciety, and each meeting the other in the face, in the
remotest sections and corners of the republic. The
great point which they originally contested, was that of
State rights and sovereignty, in opposition to a strong
and consolidated Central Government. They remain
opposed to each other, now that that question is at
rest, more from habit and tradition, than from any
permanent difference now existing between them in
views and policy. Many questions arise, on which they

THE WESTERN WORLD. 19

accidentally take sides, and which become party ques
tions by their ultimate identification with them. But
there are others, in taking a position on which, they
are true to their original character and hereditary pre
dilections. The Whigs may justly be regarded as the
conservative, the Democrats as the " go a-head " party.
It is obvious, therefore, that questions which may ap
pear desirable and highly politic to the Democrats, may
savour too much of radicalism to suit the palate of
the Whigs. By the latter the monied interest of the
Union has always been chiefly represented ; and they
were impelled by instinct to the support of the Na
tional Bank, when it was first assailed by President
Jackson, and afterwards by the whole strength of the
Democratic party, when the latter successfully fought
for an independent national treasury — as they were,
indeed, to the support of all banks, when, with the
independent treasury clamour, was combined the cry
for a metallic, in substitution of a mixed currency.
And so, on the tariff question, they seek to main
tain the interests of capital, in opposition to those
of labour, particularly of agricultural labour. Into
this course self-interest may drive the Whigs of
the north-east ; but the conduct of the southern
Whigs on the tariff question is unaccountable, ex
cept upon the ground of their regarding the integrity
of the party as a paramount consideration to the
interests of their constituents. The Whigs too, as
a party, are more sensitive than their opponents
to public opinion, and are more disposed than the
Democrats to regulate their policy by what the
world may be likely to think of them and their
country. It is on this account that their tone to
wards foreign nations is more courteous and more

20 THE WESTERN WORLD.

devoid of bluster than that usually adopted by the
Democratic party, and that they have a comparatively
strong aversion to all proceedings of a violent and un
justifiable character, like those which superinduced
the Mexican war. The Democrats, on the other
hand, are more reckless in their policy ; in their zeal
for ultraism in everything, taking counsel of none
but themselves, snapping their fingers at the world
beyond, whose opinions they care as little for as they
do for its feelings ; and ready at any time to exalt
their country, although it should be at the expense
of its reputation. The Whigs decidedly represent
the " gentlemanly interest," — the Democrats com
prising in their ranks the greater portion of the
rabble, together with many of the more sturdy and
adventurous spirits of the republic. Both parties are
excessively patriotic, by their own account, in all
they do, and unbounded in their zeal for the Consti
tution ; but which of them has been guilty of the
most frequent infractions of that document, it would
be difficult to say ; although I am inclined to regard
it as safer in the hands of the Whigs than in those of
their opponents — who are not always in the mood of
permitting constitutional considerations to stand be
tween them and the furtherance of their policy. If
the Constitution be not a dead letter, the conduct of
the present administration, in precipitating the cata
strophe of the Mexican war, tried by it as a test,
has rendered them, from the President downwards,
amenable to impeachment; and yet they are sus
tained in all that they have done, by the whole force
of the Democratic party throughout the country.

If Whiggism and Democracy constitute the two
primary subdivisions of party in its national sense,

THE WESTERN WORLD. 21

how comes it, it may be asked, that we hear of such
a State being Whig, or Democratic, as the case may
be ? This is apt to engender confusion, if it is taken
to mean that Democracy, or Whiggism, has anything
directly to do with the peculiar politics of any State.
We hear of the different States being Whig, or
Democratic, because it is in them that all national
questions are battled for. The Americans are never
found all acting together in their electoral capacity on
any subject. The only instance in which they have
done so as a whole people, perhaps, was in devising and
adopting the Constitution. In the House of Repre
sentatives they act as a whole people by their dele
gates ; but in no case do the people themselves, in the
exercise of their rights, directly act as one people.
Is a President of the United States to be chosen? fo&
instance. Each State appoints its own electoral college,
whose business it is to elect him ; nor do the electors
thus chosen by any one State meet, in the perform
ance of their duty, with the electors appointed by
another State. The whole thing, so far as the State
is concerned, is done within the limits of the State,
the electoral college of each State meeting in the
State capital, and transmitting the result of their votes
to the United States Secretary of state at Washington.
Are vacancies in the Senate of the United States to
be filled up ? They are supplied by the legislatures of
the different States, who alone can appoint their
senatorial representatives. This, again, makes the
national a State question; for if the State of New
York, for example, is desirous of returning a Whig
representative to the Senate of the United States, it
must first provide itself with a domestic legislature
of Whig principles on national questions, or it loses

22 THE WESTERN WORLD.

its opportunity. Still further, again, are national
questions carried down into the State, in the choice
of delegates to the House of Representatives. In
that House, as already seen, there is one member
to about every seventy thousand of the popula
tion, throughout the whole Union. Sometimes one
county of a State, such as Monroe county, New
York, will be entitled from its population to a mem
ber of its own. In other cases, when population is
sparse, two or three counties may be combined to
form an electoral district ; but in either case the vote
is a county vote, parties in each county recording their
votes in their own county and managing the election
by their own county organization.

Thus do national politics, in the election of a member
«,to the Lower House in the federal legislature, neces
sarily infuse themselves into the party evolutions of
each county of each State. Nay, even further, the
township itself does not escape the contagion; for in
voting in this case by counties, each voter records his
vote in his own township, and thus national questions
become the turning point of party, even in this, per
haps, the minutest of municipal subdivisions. This
arrangement of confining popular action on national,
subjects in all cases to State limits, is not only con
venient to the people, but conducive to the mainte
nance of the public peace. At the time of a general
election, the attention of the people is thereby con
centrated upon many different points. Each man
finds his centre of action in his own State, and in
stead of the universal excitement which prevails con
centrating upon one point, which would be extremely
hazardous with a government so thoroughly popular,
its force is broken by its being turned in as many

THE WESTERN WORLD. 23

different directions as there are States in the Union.
Each State thus forms part and parcel of an elaborate
breakwater, which has been reared to protect the
general system of the republic from the destruction
which would await it, were the accumulated wave of
popular excitement permitted to sweep over it un
broken. But whilst the people have no common
ground on which to fight the battles of the Union,
they are constantly fighting them at home ; and thus
it is that the great national parties become the pri
mary and controlling parties in each of the States.
Party lines, on local points, are not always coincident
with that which separates the national parties, but
they are generally so. Thus the people of New
York, or Pennsylvania, in squabbling amongst them
selves about their banks, canals, railways, schools,
&c., frequently forget that they are Whigs and De
mocrats, although sometimes the recollection of their
being so is ever prominent. But whether forgetful
for the moment or not, they readily fall back into
their ranks whenever the national tocsin is sounded,
or when a question of mere State import arises which
involves, in the slightest degree, their respective
party principles.

To pursue the subject of State party would be as
profitless as it would be tedious. Its objects are as
multifarious as are the wants of a continent, and
its name is Legion. Besides, questions affecting any
one State, which fail to interest the people of another,
could scarcely be very palatable to the distant reader.

The next phase in the scale of importance, which
party, nationally speaking, assumes, is that which is
influenced by purely commercial considerations. But
party relations having in this respect been sufficiently

24 THE WESTERN WORLD.

considered in the chapter devoted to the commercial
policy of the Union, it is unnecessary here to dwell
further upon them, allusion being now only made to
them from their obvious connexion with the general
subject of party. Before dismissing this part of it,
however, it may be as well to observe that, on the
great question of free trade and protection, parties in
the main preserve the general division to which at
tention has just been drawn. But the Whigs, as a
party, have been longer identified with protection
than the Democrats have been with free trade, it
being only recently that the latter have inscribed
commercial freedom upon their party banners. The
"Whigs from all parts of the Union have long co
operated in the advocacy of a high tariff, but until
lately many of the Democrats of the north and west
kept shy of the cause of free trade. Even yet a por
tion of the Democratic party, especially the Demo
crats of Pennsylvania, abandon their ranks to join
the Whigs on commercial questions ; whilst a few
straggling Whigs of the west lean, on the same
questions, towards the main body of their political
opponents. Although, therefore, the issue between
free trade and protection has been made a party
one, sectional interests, in contesting it, are, in some
instances, too strong for party attachments.

Perhaps the most purely sectional party in the
country is that of the Nullifiers, whose views and
doctrines have been already incidentally remarked
upon. Nullification, as a principle, is, in its advo
cacy, chiefly confined to the south, and only comes
to the surface in the political arena, when questions
are agitated directly affecting the sectional interests
of the Union. Nullifiers, as Nullifiers, know no

THE WESTERN WORLD. 25

other party distinction, whilst their opponents,
throughout the whole north and west, comprise
party men of all shades of opinion.

The question of Slavery gives rise to still another
division in the ranks of national party ; but as I
intend to treat of that subject at large in a future
chapter, I shall reserve for the present what is to be
said upon it in this connexion.

In concluding this branch of the examination into
American party, it may not be amiss here to remark,
for the sake of avoiding confusion, that (( Democrats,"
and "Democratic Republicans/' are names assumed
by the Democratic party, u Loco-foco" being the
nickname attached to them by their opponents ;
whilst " Federalists" is a term of reproach given, for
reasons already assigned, by the Democrats to their
antagonists, who only recognise for themselves the
style and title of " Whigs."

Of the tactics of party in America very little need
be said, its strategy in most points resembling that
usually resorted to in other countries with govern
ments more or less popularised. The most curious
feature about transatlantic parties is the eagerness
with which they watch for questions which are likely
to become popular, and the impetuous scramble which
takes place for them when once discerned. In this
way the Democratic party lately stole a march upon
their opponents, when they appropriated the Texas
and Oregon questions to themselves. It is not
always that they are overscrupulous as to the means
by which the party interests are subserved. This is
abundantly proved by the Log Cabin agitation of
1840 ; when log cabins, with their songs and speeches,
and their orgies on bacon and beans and hard cider,
YOL, II, C

28 THE WESTERN WORLD.

had more to do with the election of General Harrison
to the presidency, than had less exceptionable means.
But such devices are harmless as compared with others,
which, under very equivocal names, such as "pipe
laying," are sometimes resorted to. In the rural
districts the electoral body may be bamboozled, but
it is seldom corrupted. In the larger towns, on the
other hand, corruption is frequently practised by all
parties. To the position of the Irish in the com
mercial cities, and the political influence which they
obtain, is this chiefly owing.

Notwithstanding the strength of party feeling, it is
sometimes exceedingly difficult to control party in the
United States. So many and so conflicting are the inte
rests to be attended to, that it is seldom that either
party finds itself without some wing or section in rebel
lion against its authority. The party ranks too are filled
with ambitious spirits, who are impatient of subordi
nation, and whose relations with their constituents
are frequently such as to encourage them in their
waywardness. Each member of the party again che
rishes a feeling of independence, which often leads
him to display an intractable disposition, even when
he has no intention of avoiding subjection. The
party leaders in America have sensitive material*
with which to work, in their management of which
they have to observe the utmost circumspection. But
let any great danger threaten the interests of the
party, let the common enemy attempt to take any
decided advantage of the anarchy which may prevail
in it, and all differences are forgotten in a trice ; in
subordination vanishes and discipline reappears, and
the angry sections once more unite into one solid
and compact mass, as easily swayed by its leaders

THE WESTERN WORLD. 27

as are the armies of the Czar by the generals of the
empire.

Violent as are the displays of party feeling in all
the political stages of the country, it is in the Federal
capital that the excitement reaches its culminating
point. On this account it is perhaps as well for the
interests of the Republic that the heart of its poli
tical system is no stronger than it is ; for were the
party excitements of the capital sufficiently power
ful to keep the whole body politic in a state of chronic
fever, there would be but little hope of the recovery of
the patient. But the political pulsations at Washington
are too feeble to affect the extremities of the country.
The inflammatory symptoms which may have affected
the members, have partially subsided ere the heart
gets into its state of periodic spasm ; nor do these
symptoms reappear in any intensity, until a local
action reproduces them. Whilst parties are rending
each other to pieces in Washington, the distant States
are in a condition of comparative quiescence, but for
which it would be impossible for them to attend to
the ordinary concerns of life.

I shall conclude the present chapter with a succinct
view of the organization of party in America. Scat
tered over so vast a surface, with such different relations
to sustain, and so many clashing interests to reconcile,
it would be impossible for any great party in the
country to act with effect, unless it were thoroughly
organized. How far party organization in America
is complete, and likely to answer its purposes, may
be gathered from the following brief sketch of it.

Party is organized with a view to the different cir
cumstances in which it may be called upon to act.
It has, therefore, its national, its state, and its county
c2

28 THE WESTERN WOULD.

organization, to say nothing of the machinery by which
its minuter evolutions are regulated. An outline of
one of these will suffice to convey a correct idea of the
whole. I shall therefore confine myself to a descrip
tion of the organization of party in its national aspect.
The national interests of party are primarily under
the superintendence and control of national party
conventions. These are assemblies of delegates,
representing, in their aggregate, the entire party
for which they act throughout the length and
breadth of the Republic. They are the creatures
neither of the law nor of the constitution, being the
mere offspring of party, begotten for party purposes
and for these alone. They may be looked upon, in
fact, as a species of party parliament, each party
having in addition to his legislative also an efficient
executive machinery. This latter consists of a na
tional central committee, whose duty it is to appoint
the time and place for the meeting of the convention,
whenever, in their opinion, the exigencies of the party
may require its convocation, — to call upon the party
throughout the country to elect delegates for the
same, and to prescribe their number and the mode of
their election. For the better understanding of the
working of this machinery, let us trace its action
during an electoral campaign.

The election for President takes place about the
beginning of the month of November once in every
four years. The first and most important movement
of each party is the selection of a candidate for the
office. Let us follow the operations of one of them,
and take the Democratic party as the example.

The campaign actively commences about seven
months before the time of election, the first step

THE WESTERN WOULD. 29

being taken by the Democratic national central com
mittee, which calls, by proclamation, upon the
Democratic party to elect delegates to meet in con
vention on such a day and at such a place, for the
purpose of nominating the candidate, whom the party
will support in the coining contest. These delegates
are generally, in number, the same as the aggregate
of the electoral colleges, on whom the election of the
President ultimately devolves — the party in each
State sending as many delegates to the convention as
there are electors in the electoral college of the
State ; by which means the representation in the con
vention is pretty equally distributed amongst the
States according to the ratio of their population.
The month of May is generally selected as the time,
and some central town or city, such as Harrisburg in
Pennsylvania, or Baltimore in Maryland, as the place
of meeting. In the mean time, the party choose
their delegates in the mode prescribed, who assemble
on the appointed day, at the appointed place, from
all parts of the nation. Once assembled, they remain
in deliberation until the great object of their meeting
is accomplished : that object is to determine, not who
is the fittest, but who is the most available, party can
didate for the presidency. The party is represented
in all its phases in the convention ; its diversified views
and wishes are brought together and compared, that
they may be, as nearly as possible, reconciled : the
strength, attitude, and tactics of the opposition are taken
into serious consideration; and finally, he is generally
selected as the candidate, not who is the most accept
able, but who happens to be the least objectionable
to all. The selection is made by ballot ; sometimes a
great many ballots taking place before a final choice

30 THE WESTERN WORLD.

is arrived at. As soon as the nomination is made, it
is promulgated to the party, and, unless some section
of it has extraordinary cause for discontent, the
person selected receives its unanimous support, the
party newspapers throughout all the States retaining
the name of their candidate, in large capitals, at the
head of their leading columns, until the election is
determined in November.

Whilst the Democrats have been thus proceeding,
the Whigs have been preserving a strictly analogous
course. Their convention has been called and chosen
in the same way — has met and deliberated upon the
affairs of the party, and selected the most available
candidate which their party ranks could supply.
Sometimes, but not always, the two conventions
assemble in the same place ; when, generally speak
ing, some little time is prudently left to intervene
between their meetings. Both parties being thus
provided with candidates, there is, with the exception
of the appointment of a committee for each candi
date, to correspond, during the election, with com
mittees in the States, an end to their national action,
the control being thenceforth remanded to the sec
tions of the parties in the different States.

Although the choice of candidates is the great, and
indeed the only object of these party conventions, it
is not always that they confine themselves to it. They
are frequently betrayed into a discussion of various
matters connected with the policy of the Union, but
more directly with the general interests of the party.
Such discussions usually result in a series of reso
lutions, which are embodied in a manifesto issued to
the nation, the object of which is to encite as much
enthusiasm as possible in behalf of the party, by

THE WESTEIIN WOULD. 31

taking a bold stand upon such points as are likely to
recommend it to the populace. It was thus that in
May, 1844, the Democratic convention, then assem
bled at Baltimore, adopted the celebrated Oregon
resolutions, by which they identified the party with
the Boundary question, and made it a turning point
of the election, in which they subsequently triumphed.
The conventions have also, latterly, evinced a disposi
tion to assume a very troublesome and dictatorial atti
tude, giving the law to the party, and virtually ogtracis-
ing all who may venture to deviate from their behests.
Often have I heard, during the Oregon discussions
in Congress, a wandering Democrat recalled to his
allegiance by the terrors of the Baltimore convention.
The great bulk of the party are slavishly obedient to
their mandates, but some are bold enough to kick
against and defy them ; regarding their recent as
sumptions as the growth of a novel, an irresponsible,
and, therefore, a dangerous power in the State.

This part of the subject naturally leads to a con
sideration of the tyranny of party in the United
States. What has already been said with regard to
the difficulty of controlling party may appear to
militate against the idea of its exercising a tyrannical
influence over its members. But a distinction must
be drawn between the lax allegiance sometimes
yielded by party men to their leaders, and the coerced
fidelity which is observed to the party itself. Even
with regard to the leaders, the independence of them
which is sometimes assumed by the more troublesome
in their ranks, is frequently more a sham than a
reality. But woe to the political aspirant who is
guilty of any overt act of disloyalty to the Whig
or Democratic faith ! His treason might as well

32 THE WESTERN WORLD.

be branded on his brow ; for from one end of the
country to the other he is denounced by a thousand
offended presses, and by tens of thousands of indig
nant tongues; and the whole influence of the party is
brought to bear politically to crush him. It is scarcely
within the power of repentance to expiate so grave an
offence. A man may revile those at the head of the
party as much as he pleases, and be forgiven ; he may
denounce his leaders in public and in private, and go
unscathed ; he may be troublesome in the ranks, but
so long as he does not forsake them, he may remain
uncashiered. But let him lift his finger against
a party movement ; let him manoeuvre in opposition
to a party object, or vote against a party question, and
he is at once denounced without ceremony or trial,
when his political hopes are for ever crushed, unless,
which is rarely the case, he is unreservedly adopted
by the opposite party.

It is difficult in this country to conceive the force
and influence of this unmitigated tyranny. With
us, party influences are weakened by local distri
bution. In America, they are concentrated into one
inflexible despotism, which every member of the
party implicitly obeys. In this respect the party-
man in America is entirely divested of his indi
vidualism. He acts and thinks with his party ; its
will is his supreme law. The mischief is that this
strict obedience is alike required through good and
through evil report. The policy of the day must be
upheld, whatever it may be. It is thus that the
flagitious war with Mexico was espoused by the
whole Democratic party, and that no Democrat who
has any favours to expect, or who would escape
annoyance, dared utter a syllable against the conduct

THE WESTERN WORLD. 33

of the Administration. "The man who wouldn't
stand by his own Prez'dent deserves to be tabooed,"
said a Democrat to me one day, on my suggesting*
about the period of its commencement, that the war
might not be universally acceptable to the party.
This is the true spring of party action. Stand by the
President, or, in other words, stand by the party,
whatever may be the complexion of its policy. There
must be no squeamishness. The man who is not
hot, is declared to be cold. The rotten limb is imme
diately lopped off the tree.

It is not only the rank and file that yield to this
terrible influence — the party leaders bow to it with a
fatal submission. There are hundreds around them
who, for their own purposes, are constantly taking
the measure of their political stature, and who are
ever ready to report any questionable act, incautious
sentiment, or inapt expression, to their common
master. Nay, more, a rival is frequently got rid of
by first entrapping, and then denouncing him. This
intellectual subjugation — this utter absorption of the
individual in the party, is, perhaps, the worst achieve
ment of American Democracy. It is felt to be a
galling tyranny by more than dare confess it so ; and
establishes this curious anomaly, that in the freest
country in the world, a man may have less individual
freedom of political action or thought, than under
many of the mixed governments of Europe.

The foregoing is applicable only to the position of
individuals. When a diversity of views or interests
causes a whole section of the party to rebel, concili
ation and not repression is the policy adopted.

It is by a rare chance that any of the more emi
nent amongst the statesmen of America are now
c3

34 THE WESTERN WORLD.

selected as the party candidates for the presidency.
The conflict of sectional interests accounts partly for
this; for the leader who, in the main, may be eligible
to the party, may be more or less committed against
the peculiar views of some branch or branches of it.
The slavery question is a rock on which transatlantic
statesmen thus frequently split. The most eminent
of all the Whigs entertains views on this question
which render him objectionable to the abolitionists
of the north; whilst some of the northern t Whig
leaders are, from their views on the same subject,
equally unpopular with their party in the south. It
is precisely so with the Democratic party. In addi
tion to this, they have to contend against the envy
which great talents naturally beget, and which impels
little minds, from sheer malice, to oppose them. The
eminent statesman who has many friends, has also
many enemies in America, even in the ranks of his
own party, who are ready to interpose every obstacle
to his elevation. It is on this account that each
party, for fear of dividing its strength, has found it
necessary to select obscure candidates for the presi
dency. Of the compromise Presidents thus chosen,
General Harrison was a specimen on the part of the
Whigs; whilst Mr. Polk is one on that of the Demo
crats, both of whom were recommended to their
respective parties simply by their negative qualities.
If their admirers were few, so were their enemies.
They were selected, not because they were fit for the
office; but because they were most available as can
didates. A growing feeling* however, is now dis
cernible against these presidential make-shifts; but
that it will speedily result in more worthy selections
is much to be doubted.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 35

The foregoing glance at the organization of party
in its national capacity, will serve to convey an idea
of the machinery by which it works in the different
States, and in the smaller political subdivisions of the
country. In the State, each party has its own State
central committee, which convokes, when necessary,
its own State convention, for the nomination of can
didates for State offices, and the general consideration
of questions affecting the interest of the party so far
as the State is concerned. But these State conven
tions do not always confine themselves to questions
affecting the States in which they are respectively
held. Sometimes, indeed, they are called upon to act
in matters of national concern, as to nominate a list
of party candidates for the electoral college of each
State, by whom the voice of the State> in the election
of a President, is to be ultimately signified. But in
addition to this, they frequently volunteer discussions
on national topics, which usually end in the adoption
of sundry resolutions concerning them. But these
are not binding upon the party generally, nor are
they so, unless doggedly made so, upon the party in
the State whose representatives adopt them. They
are only thrown out as feelers, and as significant of
the wishes of those who promulgate them, but not as
imperative upon their fellow-partizans in the other
States ; nor to be adhered to by themselves, should
the general interests of the party appear on due
consideration to demand a different policy. Thus,
some months ago,* the Democratic convention of the
State of Ohio, after terminating its regular business,
passed a resolution before separating, nominating
General Cass as their candidate for the presidency.
* In 1847.

36 THE WESTERN WORLD.

But this meant neither more nor less than that, for
the time being, this military worthy appeared to the
Democrats of Ohio as the most eligible candidate for
the office in the Democratic camp. They were by
no means committed by it to the General, leaving
their final action to depend upon the nomination to be
made some months afterwards by the national party
convention. It is a common feature in the tactics of
American party, to have these straws thrown up from
different quarters, to ascertain how the wind is setting
in, before fairly embarking on a presidential cam
paign; the different parties in the different States
thus giving to their coadjutors throughout the
country premonitory symptoms of their political pre
dilections for the time being. The consequence is,
that before the meeting of the national convention,
the conflicting views, when they are in conflict, of the
different sections of the party are all ascertained ; so
that that body is never taken by surprise by the
introduction of questions of which no notice had been
afforded it*

Parties carry the same machinery into their county
organization for county purposes; their interests, in
this respec^ being confided to the care of county
central committees and county conventions. The legi
timate business of the latter, when they meet, does
not extend beyond party matters of local concern,
but they frequently, by their resolutions, communi
cate their views and sentiments to their fellow-par-
tizans throughout the State, as the State conventions
have just been shown to communicate to the party
throughout the Union the peculiar views of the
section of it confined to their respective States.
The same organization, and with the same results,

THE WESTERN WORLD. 37

is carried clown into the township, which, with the
exception of the school district, is, perhaps, the mi
nutest political subdivision known to the United States.
In addition to the regular machinery just described,
by which party in America usually works, its action
is sometimes thrown into extraordinary channels,
when party exigencies may appear to demand a
deviation from the regular course. When it is
deemed desirable to excite a spirit of enthusiasm,
occasional demonstrations are resorted to for that
purpose, for the management of which an incidental
organization of party is found necessary. Thus, in
stead of, or in addition to, meeting by its conventions,
the party, both in the State and in the county, is
sometimes summoned to meet in its primary assem
blies. If either party deems it desirable to make a
State demonstration in its elementary capacity, its
State central committee is competent to do so, and
generally does summon it; and so when an extraor
dinary county meeting is determined upon, the county
central committee is usually the organ through which
it is called together. But the younger members of
either party are sometimes desirous of making a
demonstration of their own, which they effect, when
ever it is deemed expedient, through the instru
mentality of a Young Men's (Whig or Democratic)
State central committee, each county being provided
with a similar agency for summoning county meetings
when they are required. These aggregate meetings
of party in its primary capacity, whether of the party
generally, or of its younger branches, are not without
their weight in determining the issue of party con
tests. I have seen them sometimes, when they
assumed a very imposing aspect, assembled, as men

38 THE WESTERN WORLD.

of one opinion were, from all parts of a State, in
their tens, their fifties, and even their hundreds of
thousands. In meeting, they converge from their
different counties to some central point in the State,
when such as cannot find other accommodation, en
camp in the open field. They pass through the dif
ferent towns and villages, on their way to the place
of meeting, in gay procession, with hands of music
at their head, and flaunting banners, on which party
devices are emblazoned, waving over them. Some
times they enliven their march with a song, which
generally embodies a political pasquinade. They are
always well received and lustily cheered by their
adherents in each place through which they pass,
whilst their opponents make it a business to turn out
and laugh at them. But the whole affair passes off
very good-humouredly, each party having the oppor
tunity of laughing, as well as of looking serious, in
its turn. To the county conventions the farmers
repair on foot, or in their heavy lumbering wagons,
several of which, from the same township, are some
times formed into procession, with flags and music.
Those who attend from the towns generally go in
lighter vehicles. Sometimes a central town, or vil
lage, is selected as the spot for holding a county con
vention ; at other times, it is held in the depths of
the forest ; and it is curious, on these latter occasions,
to see the assembled multitude divided into groups,
some on the ground, some clustering in and around
the wagons, some on horseback, and others dangling,
as it were, from the trees, listening to their favourite
orators, who address them from a platform hastily
erected by throwing some wagons together — their
hurrahs reverberating, every now and then, through the

THE WESTERN WORLD. 39

forest glades, whilst they are sheltered from the burning
heat of the sun by the leafy canopy which overhangs
them. And not unfrequently, during these meetings,
do you see parties stepping aside, in twos and threes,
to do a " bit of trade."

Allusion has frequently been made to the nomina
tion of candidates, and I cannot close this chapter
without briefly adverting to the difference which
exists, in this respect, between party conduct in
America and in England. With us, electors have
generally to choose between candidates who volun
tarily come forward. In America there is no vo
lunteering one's services as a representative. Not
that the post is less coveted than it is with us, but
party, in each locality, reserves to itself the double
right of selecting its candidate, and then electing
him as its representative. This plan tends very
much to the preservation of the unity of party ; the
individual selected, when parties are pretty equally
balanced, being generally the most available candi
date in his district for the time being, and receiving
the unanimous support of his political coadjutors.
As with us, in districts where a party is overwhelm
ingly strong, it can afford to quarrel with itself on
any topic, and frequently does so on the selection of
a candidate. But, generally speaking, the person
selected is unanimously adopted by the party ; the
plan being first to ballot, to ascertain the different
views of the party with regard to a candidate ; and
then to nominate, by an unanimous ballot, him who
has the decided majority in the first, or subsequent
ballots. None but the person so nominated has any
chance of success. The mere volunteer is treated
with derision, and contemptuously styled a " stump

40 THE WESTERN WOELD.

candidate." Such a phenomenon rarely manifests
itself, and when it does, it meets with but little
encouragement.

I have now said enough to show how prolific a
subject is that of American party. In the foregoing
pages it has been but cursorily treated, to meet the
exigencies of a work like the present. I trust, how
ever, that the examination has been sufficiently
pursued to enable the reader to form at least a general
idea of the whole subject, and to convince him that,
however diversified may be its ramifications, complex
its machinery, and apparently intricate its movements,
party in America is a system when studied easily
understood, because well organized.

CHAPTER II.

THE EAST AND THE WEST.

The Potomac above Washington. — The Chesapeake and Ohio Canal,
—Artificial ties between the East and the West. — Their Political
and Commercial consequences to the Confederacy. — The Shade. —
An Attack and a Defeat. — The Falls of the Potomac.— South
Lowell. — The Forest at Sun-set. — Pic-nic Parties. — An American
Thunder-storm.

IT was a fine morning in the month of May, when

my friend Mr. G proposed a stroll along the banks

of the Potomac. Passing through Georgetown, in
ascending the stream, we found ourselves upon the
tow-path of the Great Maryland canal, designed to
unite the waters of the Ohio with those of the Chesa
peake. At Georgetown, which is at the head of
tide-water, and of the navigation of the Potomac, the
river suddenly narrows, and here the canal is conveyed
across to its southern bank by means of a stupendous
aqueduct, the trunk of which is of wood, supported,
at a great height, above the stream by several abut
ments of heavy masonry. As we proceeded along
the tow-path we had the canal on our right, and on
the opposite side of it, a wall of rock, hewn into
irregular shape in excavating its channel. Above the
line of rock rose the Maryland bank of the river, its

42 THE WESTERN WORLD.

gentler acclivities having been rescued from the
forest, but, in its abrupter parts, still shrouded in
luxuriant foliage. On our left, and far below us,
was the Potomac, now confined to a comparatively
narrow bed ; its volume swollen with recent rains,
and rolling tumultuously along ; sometimes lingering
in dark eddving pools, covered with circular patches
of foam, resembling myriads of water-lilies ; then
brawling over broken rocks, and gurgling around
stony islets, clothed in stunted shrubbery. The
Virginia bank opposite was lofty and precipitous, the
glorious primeval woods sweeping down, in most places,
to the water's edge. There is no walk about Wash
ington to compare to this. There is a loneliness about
the scene, which is only now and then interrupted by
the solitary canal boat which glides noiselessly by ;
and a stillness, which is only broken by the sleepy
music of the river, and the symphony of the winds
among the foliage on its banks.

The sun was powerful, but, as we strolled leisurely
along, a fresh breeze from the west protected us from
its heat, and from the swarms of insects with which
we should otherwise have been assailed. The face of
the canal became wrinkled under its touch, and every
leaf swung tremblingly to and fro, as if eager to be
fanned by its cooling breath.

"The Potomac has played some part in your military
annals," said I to my companion, as we wound round
a bend of the river, which opened up to us a magni
ficent expanse of the two contiguous States, stretch
ing back, in gentle undulations, to a great distance
from either bank of the stream. " The operations
at Harper's Ferry constitute a prominent page in
your revolutionary history."

THE WESTERN WORLD. 43

" As do the evolutions of the British squadron in
the Chesapeake, in the story of the late war," replied
he, with a look, which, in meaning, went much further
than his words.

" You allude to the descent upon Washington,"
said I,

" And to the burning of the Capitol, and the
destruction of the civil records of the country,"
added he hastily, with somewhat of bitterness in his
tone.

" An unfortunate, if not an indefensible act," said
I ; " but one of the almost unavoidable excesses of a
protracted contest. Let us hope that Oregon may
never be the cause of a second visit of a similar
character to the Potomac."

"Amen!" ejaculated my friend; "but such an
other visit, should it occur, will not be the precursor
of another Bladensburg."

" Nothing," I observed, changing the conversation,
"seems so much to impress the mind of the stranger
with the greatness of the scale on which all the
natural features of this continent are constructed, as
do the extent and grandeur of its streams. Here is
the Potomac, which, with its magnificent estuary,
would be entitled to rank amongst the first-class
streams in Europe, rising in America no higher than
the third class in the scale of rivers."

" Its chief value above tide-water," observed Mr.

G , " is a great geographical feature, not only

forming a dividing line between two independent
jurisdictions, but giving additional stability to the
Union, by adding one to the many other links which
exist to connect the eastern with the western section
of the confederacy."

44 THE WESTERN WORLD.

" It is a common thing in Europe," said I, " to
speculate upon the probabilities of a speedy dissolu
tion between the northern and southern divisions of
the Union ; but I confess that, for myself, I have
for some time back been of opinion that, should a
disseverance ever take place, the danger is that it will
be between the East and the West."

" On what do you base such an opinion?" inquired
my companion. .

" On referring to the map," replied I, "it will be
found that fully one-third of the members of the
confederation are situated in the same great basin,
having one great interest in common between them,
being irrigated by the same system of navigable rivers,
and all united together into one powerful belt by their
common artery, the Mississippi."

"Admitting this," observed my friend, "what
danger arises therefrom to the stability of the
Union ?"

" Only that arising from a probable conflict of in
terests," replied I. " The great region drained by the
Mississippi is pre-eminently agricultural, whilst much
of the sea-board is manufacturing and commercial.
The first-named region is being rapidly filled with an
adventurous and energetic population; and its material
resources are being developed at a ratio unexampled
in the annals of human progress. The revolution of
a very few years will find it powerful enough to stand
by itself, should it feel so inclined, and then nothing
can prevent a fatal collision of interests between it
and the different communities on the sea-board, but
the recognition and adoption of a commercial policy,
which will afford it an ample outlet for its vast and
varied productions."

THE WESTERN WORLD. 45

" But suppose it finds this outlet in the Atlantic
States?"

" Impossible," replied I. " The myriads who will
yet people the great valley cannot be confined to the
markets of America. Should the States on the
sea-board swarm with population, their wants will
suffice to absorb only a fraction of the surplus produce
of the States on the Mississippi. The exigencies of
the latter position will require that they have unre
stricted access to the markets of the world, by un
fettering, as much as possible, the trade which the
world will be anxious to carry on with them. And
on this, they will be all the more able, by-and-by, to
insist, and at all hazards too, when it is considered
that the Mississippi offers them an easy, and at the
same time an independent outlet to the ocean."

"Precisely so," said Mr. G ; "you have dis
cerned the danger, but have made no account of the
remedy."

" I see no remedy which can reach the case short
of that which is very difficult of attainment — a final
and satisfactory adjustment of great conflicting in
terests."

" I am free to admit," said my friend, " the neces
sity for such an adjustment, as an essential condition
to the stability of the Union ; at the same time, I am
sensible of the difficulty of fulfilling that condition,
from the character, magnitude, and importance of the
interests involved. The exuberant fertility of the
Mississippi valley can scarcely be exaggerated, whilst
the tendency of population thither cannot be re
pressed. An idea may thus be formed of the influ
ence which the great agricultural section of the Union
is speedily destined to assume. On the other hand,

46 THE WESTERN WORLD.

nearly five hundred millions of dollars have already
been invested, east of the Alleganies, in manufactures.
Daily additions are being made to this huge invest
ment ; and the miner, the iron master, the woollen
manufacturer, and the cotton spinner, are taking
rapid strides in extending their operations and
enhancing their power. Between two such interests,
should a collision arise, the results would be most
disastrous. Political considerations would vanish in
the contest between material interests, and the frame
work of the Confederacy might dissolve before the
shock. These are the difficulties of the case. An
tagonistic as they are in many respects in their
interests, were the East and the West to be left
physically isolated from each other, the difficulties in
the way of a compromise of interests would indeed
be insurmountable. Had the East no direct hold
upon the West, and had the West no communication
with the rest of the world but through the Missis
sippi, one might well despair of a permanent recon
ciliation. It is in obviating the physical obstructions,
which, unremoved, would throw the current of their
interests into different directions, that the great
barrier to a permanent good understanding between
the East and the West has been broken down ; it is
by rendering each more necessary to the other that
the foundation has been laid for that mutual conces
sion, which alone can ensure future harmony and give
permanence to the Union."

" And how have you done this ?" inquired I.

" We have tapped the West," replied he.

" Tapped the West!" I repeated, looking surprised
and inquiringly into his face.

" The expression, I perceive, requires explanation,"

THE WESTERN WORLD. 47

added my friend. " This very canal, along the banks
of which we are now strolling, illustrates what I mean
by tapping the West."

" How so ?" I demanded. " The Chesapeake and
Ohio canal is one of those stupendous attempts at
internal improvement, for which, whilst they have as
yet accomplished nothing, so many of the States of
the Union have unfortunately pledged their credit.
What has Maryland gained by this gigantic under
taking, but a sullied reputation and a bankrupt
treasury ?"

"The work is unproductive," said Mr. G ,

"simply because incomplete. Only one half of its
whole intended length has as yet been constructed ;
but were the waters of the Ohio and the Chesapeake
once fairly united by it, it would speedily replenish
the treasury, and restore the credit of Maryland.
But waiving this, and regarding the canal as an un
finished specimen of the many other works of a
similar character, which have been begun and ended,
and which are now in successful operation, it still
illustrates my meaning, in saying that the East has
tapped the West."

" By tapping the West, then, you mean opening
direct communication between the East and the
West?"

" Exactly so," said he. " Had matters been left
as nature arranged them, the whole traffic of the
Mississippi valley would have been thrown upon the
Gulf of Mexico. Two classes of considerations im
pelled us to attempt to obviate this ; the first having
reference to the interests which the East would sub
serve in establishing a direct communication with the
West; and the second, to the prevention of the

48 THE WESTERN WORLD.

inconvenient commercial and political alliances to
which the isolation of the West might have given
rise."

" But of what value is the Potomac to you in this
respect?" inquired I. " The falls and rapids, with
which its channel abounds, render it unnavigable
above Washington."

" The advantage is not so much in the river itself,"
said my friend, " as in the valley through which it
flows. The great impediment to be overcome is in
the spurs and ridges of the Alleganies, which sepa
rate the waters flowing to the Atlantic from those
falling into the Mississippi. We take advantage of
the channels of the Atlantic streams to penetrate to
the nearest navigable points of the tributaries of the
Mississippi. When the streams are impracticable,
nothing is left us but to improve their channels, or
to avoid them by artificial navigation. Even the
cataract of Niagara is avoided by a canal, after which
no difficulty could be made of the rapids of the
Potomac."

" When I consider," said I, " the many parallel
lines of artificial cornmunication which you have
established between the East and the West, I must
say that, in tapping the latter, you have tapped it
liberally."

" We have taken, or are taking, advantage of all
our opportunities in this respect," replied he. " Vir
ginia is tapping the West by uniting the Ohio to the
Atlantic, by means of the James River and Kanawha
canal, constructed in the valley of the river. Mary
land is doing the same by this Chesapeake and Ohio
canal, which follows the course of the Potomac, and
is doubling her hold upon the Mississippi and its

THE WESTERN WORLD. 49

tributaries by the Baltimore and Ohio railway,
which debouches upon the same valley after first
ascending that of the Patapsco from Baltimore.
Pennsylvania has tapped the West by means of her
double line of railway and canal, descending upon
the Ohio after ascending the Susquehanna; and New
York, which took the lead in the process, has done
the same by directing the waters of Lake Erie
through her great canal, along the fertile valley of
the Mohawk, to the Hudson, and, consequently, to
the Atlantic."

" And to these you look," observed I, " as your
securities for the integrity of the republic?"

" As bonds," said he, " the existence of which
renders improbable the severance of the East from
the West. These four great parallel lines jpf inter
communication have effectually counteracted the
political tendencies of the Mississippi. That bond
of political union to the States of the Far West, if
not actually broken, is now rendered harmless as
regards the safety of the Confederacy, for it is now
subsidiary to the ties which unite the great valley to
the Atlantic sea-board. An element of weakness has
been converted into an element of strength ; for as
the Mississippi binds together the whole West, so do
these gigantic artificial communications inseparably
connect the whole West, thus bound together, with
the East, by closely identifying the interests of the
two. It is no longer the policy of either section of
the Union to stand alone. By-and-by the commerce
of the Mississippi valley will outgrow the facilities
for traffic which the Mississippi affords it. It will
then require more seaports than New Orleans, and
to what quarter can it look for them but to the

VOL. II. D

50 THE "WESTERN WORLD.

Atlantic? The time will come, if not already come,
when its teeming population and accumulated re
sources will find their best and most expeditious
roads to the markets of the world, through the
denies of the Alleganies. Much of its produce will
continue to seek the markets of the West Indies,
and of South and Central America, through the
Gulf of Mexico ; but its starting points for the great
marts of the Old World will assuredly be Boston,
New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore. Even
already the great bulk of Western produce, on its way
to Europe, seeks the Atlantic instead of the Gulf. New
York is now as much a seaport of Indiana and Illi
nois, of Iowa, Missouri, and Ohio, as is New Orleans.
" To the more northerly States of the valley, the
former is now more accessible than the latter, whilst
for many purposes it is preferable, such as for the
shipment of grain ; some species of which are so sen
sitive, that they run great risk of being damaged by
the hot sun of New Orleans, and the protracted
voyage around the peninsula of Florida. Every thing,
too, which improves the position of the West, as
regards the Atlantic seaports, renders the mutual
dependence between the two sections of the Union,
as respects their home trade, more intimate and com
plete. In addition to this, it strengthens more and
more the sentiment of nationality, by bringing the
denizens of the West and the East in constant com
munication with each other. They freely traverse
each other's fields, and walk each other's streets, and
feel equally at home, whether they are on the Wabash,
the Arkansas, the Potomac, the Susquehanna, the
Genesee, or the St. John's. This is what we have
effected by tapping the West. We have united it to

THE WESTERN WORLD. 51

us by bonds of iron, which it cannot, and which, if it
could, it would not break. By binding it to the older
States by the strong tie of material interests, we have
identified its political sentiment with our own. We
have made the twain one by our canals, our railroads,
and our electric telegraphs, by making the Atlantic
more necessary to the West than the Gulf; in short,"
said he, " by removing the Alleganies"

Our conversation here dropped, and we proceeded
for some time in silence. My thoughts were busy
with the singular, but yet undeveloped, destinies of
this extraordinary country. To have the conflicting
interests of two halves of a continent thus reconciled
and harmonised by a few ditches filled with water
and a few belts of iron, seemed too startling for cre
dence. How different the relations between the
Mississippi and the Hudson from those of the
Danube and the Rhine ! The more I pondered on
his premises, the more satisfied did I become of the
correctness of his conclusions. I was reconverted to
the opinion that slavery alone could give a shock to
the Union. Nowhere in the world is the influence
of material interests, in controlling social and political
phenomena, more obviously displayed than in Ame
rica. The difficulties in the way of the supremacy of
this influence in Europe are infinitely greater than in
the transatlantic world. But even here, where differ
ences of race, language and religion, of historic asso
ciations and national traditions, interpose to retard
the fraternization of the great European community,
the strides which are being daily made in the career
of material improvement cannot be resultless, but
must rapidly break down the barriers which ages of
discord and alienation have accumulated in the way

52 THE WESTERN WORLD.

of fusion and union ; until linked, as they soon will
be at innumerable points, by railways and canals, in
the bonds of one common interest, the different
States of this continent will yet approximate the
political condition of confederate America.

We had now walked several miles, and having
reached an indentation in the river's bank completely
sheltered from the sun, took advantage of the deep
shade which reposed in it, to rest and refresh our
selves. A small rivulet came gurgling down the bank,
sometimes leaping, in this way, over a tiny ledge
of rock ; at others, stealing noiselessly under the
withered leaves of many autumns, which the eddy
ing winds had deposited in the crevice ; and gathering
close to where we sat into a cool limpid pool, in
a natural basin of stone, encrusted with small patches
of pale green vegetation. From this bowl we mixed
the cool draught with the contents of our flasks, and
lay back to enjoy the shade. Our enjoyment, how
ever, was but short-lived, for we were soon driven
from our retreat by the persecutions of an enemy,
with which, in these latitudes, it is next to impossible
to cope. Swarms of insects, seeking shelter from
the breeze, filled the secluded nook in which we sat.
They were of various sizes, from the most invisible
gnat, to the plethoric and well-armed musquito ;
whilst, every now and then, a gorgeous dragon-fly,
poised like a well-directed arrow, would cleave
its way through them, and whirr about our ears,
innocuous but looking mischief. Our entrance seemed
at first to disturb' the tiny throng, but they soon
rallied into legions, and attacked us on all sides,
amid an unmistakeable flourish of trumpets. It was
in vain that we strove to fan them off. Though

THE WESTERN WORLD. 53

mown down in myriads, like Russian infantry, they
were undismayed by the slaughter, continuing their
assaults and accompanying them with a ceaseless hum,
which soon threw every nerve of our bodies into a
state of painful vibration. Passive endurance was
out of the question, whilst gallantry against such num
bers was but being prodigal of a virtue. There was
nothing left for us but to retreat, which we were glad
to do ; pursued, until we gained the sunshine and
the breeze, by hosts of flying lancers, to whom was
assigned the duty of following up the victory.

A walk of another hour or two brought us to the
Falls of the Potomac, about fifteen miles distant
from Washington. Here we found a very good inn,
where we dined, and took up our quarters for the
night. After dinner we strolled about the Fall,
which, although striking and picturesque in itself, is,
for this country, where lake, river, and cataract are
on so magnificent a scale, rather insignificant. It
affords an almost inexhaustible, and most available
water-power ; a circumstance not overlooked by the
prying eyes of American enterprise ; the property in
its vicinity having been purchased by a few energetic
speculators, with a view to converting it into a new
seat of manufacturing industry. With this intent it
is already laid out into land and water lots. In the
hands of Virginians it might never advance beyond
this point ; but stimulated by the roving enterprise of
New England, it is not improbable that South Lowell,
for so the embryo city has been called, will yet rival
the Lowell of the north.

A descending sun was gilding the tree-tops as we
directed our steps into the neighbouring forest ; the
western heavens were in one blaze of light, the sun's

54 THE WESTERN WORLD.

disc being scarcely distinguishable in the flood of
pearly lustre which he threw around his setting mo
ments. We strolled for some distance under a lofty
canopy of the richest foliage, supported by the stately
trunks of the primeval trees, which towered high
before their colossal proportions were broken by a
single branch. The skirt of the forest, which had
a western aspect, was densely fringed with a most
luxuriant vegetation, underlaid with beautiful shrubs
and variegated wild flowers. The honeysuckle and
the wild vine here and there hung in graceful festoons
between the young trees, which intertwined their
sappy branches, in their common struggle for air and
light ; the departing sunlight streaming through their
large juicy leaves, as through a medium of liquid
amber, and bringing out every vein and artery which
permeated them, as the microscope does the exquisite
anatomy of the butterfly's wing. Myriads of insects
floated in the shade, and rendered the air tremulous
with their monotonous evening hymn ; whilst every
now and then the tiny but lustrous humming-bird
swept across our path, to take for the day his last cup
of nectar from his favourite flowers. In the cool of
the evening we returned to our hotel, and fatigued as
we were by the day's exertions, slept soundly, although
it was abundantly evident next morning that the
blood-thirsty musquito had profited by our uncon
sciousness.

We returned next day to Washington by the route
which we had traversed on the previous day. We en
countered but few travellers to interrupt the solitude
of our journey, with the exception of meeting every
now and then a slave, generally with a burden, but
seldom a heavy one, who accosted us as he passed

THE WESTERN WORLD. 55

with a " Good day, Massa," bowing to us at the same
time, with an air of stereotyped humility.

Large pic-nic parties frequently proceed, in sum
mer, to the Falls, from Washington, Alexandria, and
Georgetown. It is not unusual for them, on such
occasions, to hire a canal packet-boat, with which
they proceed comfortably to their destination. About
half-way from town we met one of them, drawn by
two horses at a brisk trot. It was well filled with a
jocund party, for we could hear the merry laugh pro
ceeding from the cabin, when they were yet some
distance from us. Several of the young men were
on deck, dressed in loose summer attire. They had
withdrawn for a few minutes from the presence of
their fair companions, to enjoy the luxury of a quid.
They were discussing the merits of " Old Rough and
Ready," their animated conversation being inter
rupted only by their expectorations into the canal.
We observed several pretty faces peering at us
through the small cabin windows, and fancied that
their owners pitied our way-worn appearance, for
by this time we were covered with dust and per
spiration.

The breeze of the previous day had died away — the
sun burnt like a fierce flame in the sky, and the air
was hot and sultry. The canal blazed in our faces
like a sun-lit mirror — the grass lay parched and
motionless on the ground, and the leaves hung list
less from the boughs. Every insect was driven into
the shade, and not a bird ventured on the wing,

" We shall have a shower before night-fall," said
my companion, wiping the perspiration from his fore
head, and fanning himself with his broad-brimmed
white beaver.

56 THE WESTERN WORLD.

" I trust none of your thunder-storms will over
take us on our way" observed I.

" I think we are pretty safe/' said he, turning
round, and scanning with his eye the circuit of the
western horizon. We have now but about five
miles to walk, and there is, as yet, no appearance of
a cloud in the sky."

" You look to the west," I remarked : " do your
thunder-storms always proceed from that quarter ? "

" Invariably," replied he.

We proceeded for a mile or two further, our
strength becoming rapidly exhausted under the
burning merciless heat. By-and-by the dust moved
a little in advance of us, and the glistening surface of
the canal momentarily darkened. At the same time,
a low murmuring sound stole gently through the
forest on our left, as if nature had heaved a deep
sigh — the leaves trembling at the same time, as if a
slight shudder had passed over the woody bank. My
friend looked quickly round.

" We must hurry," said he, "or we shall yet be
caught."

" I see no indication of a storm," said I, casting
my eye over the yet unclouded heavens.

" You would perceive such as would satisfy you,"
said he, quickening his pace, " but for the high bank,
which now screens from us many degrees of the
western sky. See," added he, as another slight puff
of air disturbed the dust, which danced in little eddies
at our feet, " there is an unmistakeable herald of a
summer shower."

The dome of the Capitol was already in sight, and
we made all haste towards the town. We had scarcely
reached Georgetown ere the wind came in fitful gusts

THE WESTERN WORLD. 57

from behind us, lifting up the dust, and scattering it,
as it were, in huge handfuls in the air. By-and-by
a dense black curtain of clouds rose over the tree-
tops on the heights to our left, and advanced with
rapid yet majestic movement towards the zenith.
The broad estuary of the Potomac was before us,
and its usually yellow surface assumed a dark
brownish hue, in reflecting the now angry heavens.
The lightning at first flickered faintly in the distance,
but grew brighter and more frequent as the storm
gained upon the sky. By this time the low mut
tering of the distant thunder fell without interval
upon our ears, as if the tempest were advancing to
the sound of music. And now everything in nature
seemed still as death — every leaf around us appeared
to pant for the coming shower — the cattle stood in
motionless groups in the neighbouring fields.

We had passed Georgetown, and were hurrying as
fast as possible to Washington. On came the teem
ing clouds, swept forward by the breeze, which now
set in steadily from the westward with a fury which
betokened the near approach of the catastrophe.
The heavens seemed now and then enveloped in a
trellis-work of fire, and the thunder came in choruses
from the bosom of the tempest. We had to make
our way through whirlwinds of dust, but the flying
sand was preferable to the coming deluge. My rooms
were already in sight when the first monitory drops
came down heavily, and with a sort of greasy flop,
into the hot dust, speckling it with dark spots, each
as large as a half-crown piece. There was no time
to lose, for down they came thicker and thicker, and
we took to our heels. It was as well that we did so ;
for we had scarcely gained shelter ere the storm

D3

58 THE WESTERN WORLD.

descended in all its fury. Down came the rain,
literally in streams, throwing the dust up like spray,
until it had fairly saturated it, which less than a
minute sufficed to do. Every now and then its
downward progress was stopped, and it was carried
almost horizontally along, and dashed in whirling
eddies against wall and window by the fierce wind.
The strongest trees bent before the blast, which
howled through their branches, as it stripped them of
their green leaves, and tossed them wildly in the air.
All this time the vivid lightning was playing about
on all hands with magnificent pyrotechnic effect, not
falling in single flashes, but appearing literally to rain
down, the tempest seeming to expend itself in a de
scending deluge of fire and water. The air, too, was,
as it were, full of thunder, which sometimes crackled
around us like the leaping flame, which is devouring
every thing within its reach ; then broke overhead
with a crash as if a thousand ponderous beams were
giving way, and then boomed slowly off into the dis
tance, and died, grumbling and muttering amid the
watery clouds.

The storm had not continued for much more than
a quarter of an hour ere the whole aspect of the
town was changed. Many of the streets which before
were laden with dust were now completely submerged,
Pennsylvania-avenue lies low, and the streets which
descend upon its northern side poured their floods
upon it as into a reservoir. Boats might now have
sailed where, but some minutes before, their keels
would have been buried in the dust. My windows
overlooked a broad street which descended into the
avenue. It looked as if it had suddenly been con
verted into the bed of some mountain torrent; the

THE WESTERN WORLD. 59

water dashing along in sufficient volume to carry off
several large beams which were lying at a little dis
tance, for building purposes, on the road.

Little more than half an hour had elapsed ere the
storm began to give way. The black pall, which had
enveloped the heavens, seemed gradually to ascend
into upper air, and in doing so became broken into
fragments, which, as they slowly separated from each
other, were illuminated in their outlines by the
bright sunlight, which shone from above through
their watery fringes. Piled in masses, one upon the
other, the heavy clouds rolled away to the eastward,
their dark bosoms still gleaming with fire, and belch
ing forth thunder. The storm thus passed away with
the majesty which had marked its approach, leaving
the sun once more in undisputed possession of the
sky. But the face of nature was greatly changed.
It no longer looked languid and sickly ; all was now
cheerful and glad, and fresh-looking as the nymph
from the fountain. The frogs croaked lustily from
the neighbouring marshes, and the birds flew about
on renovated wing, and sang merrily on the boughs.
Vegetation resumed its vigour ; the foliage on the
trees looked doubly green ; whilst from every shrub
and plant the pendant rain-drops sparkled like so
many diamonds. The air was pure and crisp ; for
the haze, which before pervaded it, seemed to have
been literally washed out, and through its clear
medium the Capitol shone, over the rich greenery
which lay beneath it, like a mass of alabaster, sur
mounted by a dome of ebony. But the streets were
in many places ploughed up by the torrents which
had taken temporary possession of them ; and the
red clayey bank of the Potomac was torn into still

60 THE WESTERN WOULD.

deeper gullies. Not far from my residence, on a
field of several acres in extent, flourished, before the
storm, a crop of luxuriant wheat. Having a gentle
declivity, the deluge passed over it with such effect
as to tear both wheat and soil away, exposing a
cadaverous surface of cold impassive clay. Many of
the cellars in Pennsylvania-avenue were flooded,
and much valuable property was injured, if not
destroyed.

Such is a thunder-storm in these regions. An
Englishman's experiences in his own country can
give him no idea of its terrific grandeur. They fre
quently make their appearance as often as twice
a week, during the burning summer months, although
not always with the severity just described : the
climate would else be intolerable. Their refreshing
effect, after some days of parching heat, may be
readily conceived. Their duration is brief, but they
are terrible whilst they last, particularly when they
occur at night, when the incessant and ubiquitous
lightning seems to keep the whole atmosphere in a
blaze. The clouds descend and appear to trail along
the surface of the ground, and earth and sky seem to
meet in conflict, whilst all the elements mingle for
the moment in one appalling jumble of confusion and
strife, the effect of the whole scene being infinitely
heightened by the loud and continuous rattling of
heaven's artillery, by which the raging tornado is
saluted in its course.

CHAPTER III.

VIRGINIA.

Last Stroll in Washington.— The Wharf.— A Yankee.— Scenery of
the Potomac. — Yiew of Washington from the Eiver. — Alexandria,
— Mount Yernon. — Washington's Grave. — The Aquia Creek. —
Railway to Kichmond. — Fredericksburg. — Effects of Slavery. —
Richmond.— The State Capitol.— Statue of Washington. — Prospect
from the Portico of the Capitol. — The James Eiver and its Rapids.
— Water Power. — Manufactures of Richmond. — Tobacco Mart. —
Tobacco Manufactories.— Coal and Iron Mines.— Sensitiveness of
the people of Richmond. — Society in Richmond. — Mr. Rives. —
Social Life as developed in Yirginia, the type of Southern Society.
— Influence of the Property system of the South on its social
development. — Country Life in Virginia. — A Virginia Table. —
Universal use of Indian Corn Bread. — Modes of preparing1 it. —
Groundless Prejudice against it in this country. — Pride of Ancestry
in Virginia. — The great physical Divisions of Virginia. — The
Central Yalley. — The Blue Mountains. — Mineral Springs in the
Valley. — The Tide-water region. — Configuration of the Continent
between the Alleganies and the Atlantic.

IT was towards the close of May, on a sunny and
brilliant morning, that, after several months' residence
in the capital, I took my departure for the South.
Having half-an-hour to spare, I strolled for the last
time around the grounds of the President's house,
which were contiguous to the hotel. In doing so I
soon overtook an elderly man, rather slenderly made,
about the middle stature, and with a slight stoop at
the shoulders. He carried a gold-headed cane under
his arm, and with his head bent upon the ground, as
if lost in thought, went slowly along with measured
pace, seemingly forgetful of the purpose for which he

62 THE WESTERN WORLD.

had come out, which was evidently the enjoyment of
a constitutional walk before breakfast. In passing
him I saluted the President of the United States.
He seemed as if roused from a reverie by the momen
tary interruption. He had need of all his thoughts,
for his dispute with England was still unsettled, and
the first blow of the Mexican war had already been
struck.

The steamboat wharf is immediately below the
great bridge, and about a mile distant from the town.
Thither I repaired in due time, the journey south
ward commencing with a descent of the Potomac for
forty miles by steamer. Half-a-dozen negroes, who
grinned and chattered at each other incessantly, were
busily engaged replenishing her stock of fuel from the
piles of cord-wood which encumbered the wharf; and
other preparations for departure were still going on
when I stepped on board the United States mail
steamer Powhatan.

There was some delay in starting, during which
I occupied myself in pacing the promenade deck,
enjoying the bright sunshine and the fresh morning
air. There were several groups of loungers on the
wharf, who seemed to take a deep interest in all that
was going on, whilst theae were others who took an
interest in some that were going off. Apart from the
rest was one whose demeanour and attitude soon
attracted my attention. In leaning against a post, his
tall emaciated figure fell into a number of indescrib
able curves, presenting a tout ensemble to which no
thing can compare, that I am acquainted with, either
on the earth, or in the waters under the earth. His
face was so sunburnt that it vied in brown with the
long, loose, threadbare frock-coat which, from his
reclining position, hung perpendicularly from his

THE WESTERN WORLD. 63

shoulders. Deep furrows traversed his sallow cheek,
commencing at a point near the outer corner of the
eye, and diverging as they dropped, so as to attain a
broad basis on the lower jaw. His eyes, which were
deep set, were very small, the pupil being of a light
grey, in a yellow setting. In his hand was a large
clasp-knife, with which he was whittling to a very
fine point a piece of wood which he had sliced from
the post. In this occupation he appeared absorbed ;
but on closely watching him, you could see that from
under his matted eyebrows he was looking at every
body and observing everything. Save in the move
ment of his hands, he gave little outward symptom of
life ; but not a movement escaped his restless glance.
He was a thorough type of the genuine Yankee, con
cealing much curiosity, cunning, and acuteness be
neath a cold impassive exterior. I watched him still
occupying the same attitude for some time after we
had put off, and it was not until every one else had
disappeared from the wharf, that he uncoiled himself
and walked moodily away.

The cause of our detention was the non-arrival of
the Governor of Virginia, who it seemed was to be a
fellow-passenger. His excellency at length appeared,
panting and breathless, and, on stepping aboard, was
told by the captain that the next time he was late he
would have to find a boat of his own.

The sail down the Potomac is interesting and
beautiful. On a summer morning, when the sky is
without a cloud, and the breeze is yet fresh and
bracing, the broad and lively expanse of the river,
stretching in some places for miles across, flashes like
silver in the slanting sunlight, whilst the luxuriant
verdure which clothes the long terraced slopes on
either side of it, sweeps down to its very edge, until

64 THE WESTERN WOULD.

bush, tree, and waving grass, seem all afloat upon the
water. Here and there, too, the bank, on either side,
is indented by small tortuous bays, which straggle up
into the land, until they lose themselves amid laby
rinths of greenery, and beneath arcades of the richest
foliage. As the day advances, a slight haze gathers
over the scene, which confuses its outline, and gives it
an indistinct, dreamy look. The whole way from
Washington to its junction with Chesapeake Bay, the
Potomac presents the tourist with a succession of
pictures, which in their characteristics are purely
American. You have land and water, the universal
elements of landscape, but differently distributed
from what we are accustomed to in Europe. The
river is so lordly and spacious, and forms so great a
feature in the scene, that the whole looks like a vast
mirror set in a frame-work of elaborate beauty. In
addition to its scenic attractions, a sail on the Poto
mac brings the traveller in contact with many spots
of considerable historic interest.

Washington should always be approached from the
river, for it presents from it a most imposing appear
ance. When first seen in ascending the Potomac, the
city appears to encircle, in the distance, the head of a
spacious and noble bay. Whilst the eye is yet in
capable of distinguishing its scattered character, or
discerning the many gaps which intervene between
its different parts, the stranger is, for the moment,
from the vast extent of ground which it appears to
cover, cheated into the idea that it is worthy its
destiny as the capital of a great nation, an illusion
which speedily vanishes on a nearer approach. To
the right the Capitol is seen looming up over every
other object ; to the left, with the bulk of the
town between them, is the Executive mansion, its

THE WESTERN WORLD. 65

white mass being relieved against the dark green body
of the uplands beyond, which in their amphitheatric
sweep form a background to the picture ; whilst still
further to the left is the suburb of Georgetown,
crowning its little height, and nestled amid bowers
and foliage, like a very glimpse from Arcadia. This
view goes far to reconcile one, after all, to "Washing
ton. I watched it from the stern of the boat, until
we doubled a point on the Maryland side, which shut
the scene slowly from my view.

Our first stopping-place was Alexandria, seven
miles below Washington, and on the opposite side of
the river ; a small town much older than the capital,
of which it is the seaport. It has a quaint and
antique look about it, considering where it is, its
origin dating far back into the colonial era of Vir
ginia. Until 1846, it formed part and parcel of the
district of Colombia ; but in that year it was re-ceded,
together with the whole of that part of the district
which lay to the south of the Potomac, to the State
of Virginia. The " ten miles square," therefore, no
longer exists, the district being now confined to an
irregular triangle on the Maryland side of the river.

Some distance further down, we passed Fort Wash
ington, one of the defences of the capital, occupying
a commanding position on the Maryland bank, oppo
site a point where the navigable channel of the river
is rather narrow and tortuous. On the opposite side,
in Virginia, and about fourteen miles below the city,
is Mount Vernon, for some years the residence, and
still the burial-place of Washington. It is a very
beautiful spot; the house in which the immortal
patriot closed his eventful career crowning the summit
of a gentle acclivity which rises from the water, and

66 THE WESTERN WORLD.

commands within its prospects on either side a long
reach of the river. No American ever passes it with
out doing reverence to it as a hallowed spot. "When
near the other side, or in the middle of the stream,
it can only be distinctly seen by the aid of a glass.
We passed very close to it, and the Hutcheson family
being on board on a professional tour, they came on
deck, and sung " Washington's Grave." The effect
was good, for the melody is touching, and the majo
rity of the audience were enthusiasts.

Our point of debarkation was the Aquia Creek, a
small stream which empties itself into the Potomac
on the Virginia side, about forty miles below the city.
Here the river attains a colossal magnitude, which it still
enhances during the remainder of its course to the ocean.

From this point, the journey to Richmond, which
is about eighty miles, is performed by railway. As
the line is but a single one, we had to await, before
proceeding, the arrival of the up-train. It was not
long ere it came cautiously up, stopping only when it
got to the very end of the wharf, the passengers by it
immediately taking our steamer for Washington,
whilst we took their carriages for Richmond. I
thought the mail agent would have been torn to
pieces by my fellow-passengers from the city, in their
eagerness to extract from him the latest news from
the South. The Mexican war was the all-exciting
topic, and they were quite disappointed at learning
that the Mexicans had disappeared from the Rio-
Grande, and were not likely again to be heard of,
for some time at least.

Amongst those who arrived by the train from Rich
mond, was a western farmer and his family, evidently
on a summer tour.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 67

" Father, " said his son, an intelligent little boy,
after looking for a few moments at the broad expanse
of the river, " it's as big as the Miss'sippi."

" And as yaller too/' was the reply.

"But we don't have no snags nor alligators here,
my little man; nor do we blow up two or three hun
dred people at a time," said a Virginian in shirt
sleeves, who was doing duty in some capacity or
other, on the wharf, and who, hearing the boy's
remark, was anxious that he should not go misin
formed upon the points wherein the Potomac had the
superiority over any and every river in the West.

" Cos you can't get up steam enough in Virginny
to blow up an egg-shell," retorted the boy, discerning
his informant's intention, and by no means satisfied
with it ; for which he was informed by the latter, that
he was " too smart by half, if he only know'd it," and
that to a moral certainty, his father " must have many
more like him."

About an hour after leaving the Potomac, we
reached the small town of Fredericksburg, one of the
seaports of Virginia, situated on the Rappahannock
River. We made a short stay here, for no earthly
purpose, as it appeared to me, but to enable the pas
sengers to buy gingerbread, which was handed about
in enormous triangles, and purchased by such as were
already beginning to famish.

Whence comes it that the moment the stranger puts
his foot in Virginia, he seems to have passed to an
entirely new scene of action ? Is it prejudice, or
preconceived opinion, that leads him to think that
every thing around him wears a spiritless and even
dilapidated aspect? Or is it that he sees aright,
through no misguiding medium, and that there is a

68 THE WESTERN WORLD.

cause for the change that so suddenly forces itself
upon his observation? It requires no anti-slavery
predilections, no jaundiced eye, no European pre
judices, to recognise the two states of activity and
inertness between which the Potomac intervenes, like
an impassable gulf. The southerner himself, born
and bred in the lap of slavery, cannot fail to distin
guish the distance which separates the North from
the South in the career of material improvement. Be
the causes for this what they may, its existence is
incontestable. The change, indeed, commences still
further north, on crossing the frontier of Maryland ;
but bordering, as that State does, upon the free
community of Pennsylvania, it has become more
or less inoculated with the activity which distin
guishes it. It is only when the traveller passes
the Virginian border that he becomes thoroughly
aware of the difference, as regards enterprise and
activity, which exists between the free and the
slave States. I am quite aware that the traveller by
this the main route to the South, is not carried
through the better portion of Virginia. I now speak
not from impressions formed on the railway, but from
the convictions which have attached themselves to my
mind after thoroughly traversing the State. As
compared with some of its neighbours, the whole State
seems to be afflicted with some ineradicable blight.
In the North, such is the enterprise and such the
industry which prevail, — such is the restless activity
which is ever manifest, and such the progress, not
gradual, but precipitate, which is constantly being
made, that the stranger may almost fancy that the
scene on which he opens his eyes in the morning is
different from that on which he closed them the pre-

THE WESTERN WORLD. 69

ceding night. But let him pass into Virginia, and
the transition is as great as is the change from the
activity of Lancashire, to the languor and inertness of
Bavaria. Even amongst the southern States, Vir
ginia is preeminently torpid. In the midst of progress
she is stationary — stationary even in her population,
with the exception of the negro portion of it. And
yet no New-Englander is so proud of his native State
as the Virginian is of his. He never permits a douht
to cross his mind but that she is the first star in
the federal constellation. It matters not that you
direct his attention to decaying towns and backward
cultivation, you cannot divorce him from his delusive
but flattering conviction. In 1776 she may have been
the first amongst the revolutionary colonies. The
Virginian thinks of Virginia as she was then, not as
she is now ; he forgets the prodigious strides which
many of the sister States have taken since that period ;
and in his self-complacency overlooks the fact that
she is more indebted for the slight advances which
she has made, to her incapacity altogether to resist the
general momentum, than to the enterprise and activity
of her sons. How far the blot which rests on her
social and political escutcheon is answerable for this,
will be afterwards considered.

Richmond, the capital of Virginia, is a small, but
certainly a very pretty town, if its people would only
content themselves with having it so. It is a weak
ness of theirs to be constantly making the largest
possible drafts upon the admiration of the visitor, by
extorting his assent to the fidelity of comparisons
which would be amongst the very last to suggest
themselves to his own mind. He is reminded, for
instance, that the prospect which it commands is very

70 THE WESTERN WORLD.

like the view obtained from the battlements of Wind
sor Castle ; and to those who have never been at
"Windsor, or who, having been there, have never seen
Richmond, the comparison may certainly hold good ;
but such as have seen both are far more indebted to
their imagination than to the reality for the resem
blance. He is also given to understand that it occu
pies more hills than imperial Rome ever sat upon ;
and if the number of hills on which the capital rested
was an essential element of Roman greatness, this is
one way of proving Richmond superior to Rome.

But notwithstanding these excusable partialities,
Richmond is a beautiful place. There is a high and
a low town ; the former crowning the summit of an
abrupt sandy bank, which hems in the latter between
it and the northern margin of the James River, a
stream so justly celebrated in the early colonial his
tory of the continent. The town itself has not much
to recommend it, consisting as it does of one good
street and a number of indifferent ones. The portion
of it between the main street and the river, in which
the wholesale business is chiefly transacted, reminds
one very much, in closeness and dinginess, of the
neighbourhood of Watling-street or Blackfriars. It
is in its adjuncts that the beauty of Richmond is to
be sought and found ; its suburbs in the upper town
being both elegant and airy, and the view obtained
from them by no means uninteresting. The best
point, perhaps, from which to ascertain the position
of Richmond, is the portico of the Capitol, a plain,
unpretending building, which overhangs the lower
town. It contains within its walls, however, one of
the finest, and decidedly the most interesting, of the
specimens of art in America. In its principal lobby

.THE WESTERN WOULD. 71

is a full-length marble statue of Washington ; not in
the garb of the warrior, but in the plain costume of
the country gentleman, with his staff in his Jiand,
instead of his sword by his side. It is the most faith
ful portrait of the incorruptible patriot of which the
country is possessed, the features being modelled
from a cast taken of him during life. Time and
again did I return to gaze at that placid face, that
mild yet intelligent expression, that serene yet
thoughtful brow. No portrait or bust that I had
ever before seen had conveyed to me an idea of
Washington which satisfied me. But there he was to
the life, just as he appeared to his cotemporaries
after the turmoil of the great contest was over, in
which he played so important and honourable a part.
I never think of Washington now without picturing
him as represented by that marble statue.

From the portico the scene is both extensive and
varied. In the immediate foreground is the town,
the greater portion of which is so directly underneath
you that it almost seems as if you could leap into it.
Before you is the James River, tumbling in snowy
masses over successive ledges of rock, its channel
being divided by several islands, which are shrouded
in foliage, and imbedded in foaming rapids. To
the south of the river, an extensive vista opens up,
spreading far to the right and left, cleared in some
places, but, generally speaking, mantled in the most
luxuriant vegetation. The scene is one over which
the stranger may well linger, particularly on a bright
summer's day, when his cheek is fanned by the cooling
breezes, which come gaily skipping from the distant
Alleganies, carrying the fragrant perfume of the
magnolia and the honeysuckle on their wings, and

72 THE WESTERN WOULD.

his spirit is soothed by the incessant murmur of the
rapids, which, from the height at which he stands,
steals gently to his ear.

The site of Richmond was selected chiefly with a
view to the water power which is afforded it by the
rapids of the James. These commence a considerable
distance above the city, and terminate immediately in
front of it. The fall which thus gradually takes place
in the channel of the river, is altogether about eighty
feet, the formation of the banks on either side being
such as to render the great power thus afforded per
fectly available. It has, as yet, been but partially
taken advantage of. Opposite the city, on the
southern bank, is the small village of Manchester,
aspiring, I suppose, to that name, from the fact of
its comprising two cotton factories, which, indeed,
with their adjuncts, form its sum total. It is ap
proached from Richmond by means of bridges thrown
across the rapids from the mainland on either side, to
the islands; but the chief industry of the spot is
centred in the city itself, which derives its water
power from the basin of the James River, and Kan-
awha canal, designed to unite the Virginian sea-board
with the great valley of the West. The canal is here fed
from the upper level of the river, and as it approaches
the town, the difference of level between it and the
falling stream becomes greater and greater, until at
length a fall of eighty feet is obtained from the canal
basin to the river. Here the water may be easily
used three times over in changing its level ; a little
further up it can only be used twice, and still further
up again, only once. As yet fully three-fourths of
the power thus available is unemployed. The manu
factures of Richmond are various, comprising woollen

THE WESTERN WORLD. 73

and cotton goods, tobacco factories, and some very
large iron and steel works ; but its chief feature in this
respect is the manufacture of flour, the largest flour-
mills in the United States being found here, one of
which, when in full play, can turn out from 750 to
1,000 barrels of flour per day. It is from Richmond
that the South American market is chiefly supplied
with this necessary of life ; the wheat of Virginia,
when ground, being better adapted for tropical voyages
than the produce of any other part of the country,
including Ohio, and Genesee wheat.

Richmond is also one of the first tobacco markets
of the country, the produce of the State being con
centrated upon it both for export and manufacture.
The tobacco, after having been dried, as it now is,
chiefly in the fields, is closely packed into hogsheads,
in which state it is forwarded to Richmond, where
such portion of it (the greater) as cannot be disposed
of by private sale is stored in public warehouses, to
await the auction sales, which take place within
certain hours of the day. When a hogshead is to be
put up, it is unhooped, and the compact mass, as yet
but raw material, exposed to view. One of the in
spectors on duty, then, by means of a crow-bar,
forcibly separates it in three different places, from
which a few leaves are taken to form the sample of
the bulk, which is then sold according to its quality
as thus ascertained. The staves are then put together
again, the hogshead receives the purchaser's mark,
and it is left in store until he chooses to take it away.
The quantity of tobacco which is thus sometimes
accumulated upon Richmond, is only exceeded by
that which is generally to be found in bond at the
London Docks.

VOL. II. E

74 THE WESTERN WORLD.

Much of the tobacco thus disposed of is purchased
for local manufacture, Richmond containing several
large establishments for the conversion of the crude
tobacco into a form fit for chewing. Over the most
extensive of these I was kindly piloted by one of the
owners, where I witnessed all the processes which the
weed underwent in its passage from dry leaves to the
marketable shape of Cavendish tobacco, in which
form it was packed in small cakes, in oblong boxes,
labelled with the seductive name of " Honeydew."
In all the departments of the factory the labour was
performed by slaves, superintended by white over
seers. They appeared to be very contented at their
work, although the utmost silence was observed
amongst them, except within certain hours of the
day, when they were permitted to relieve their
toil by singing, performing a succession of solos,
duets, glees, &c, &c. in a way that was truly sur
prising, considering that they were entirely self-
taught. Having heard them sing, I was permitted to
see them eat ; their noon-day meal consisting of corn-
bread and beef; the males and females occupying
different apartments, and each appearing to have as
much to eat as he or she could possibly enjoy. The
factory was so complete as to be provided even with
its own tailor, who was engaged, whilst I was there,
in cutting out the summer suits of the workmen,
from thick cotton cloth, tolerably well bleached, and
of a close and by no means very coarse texture.

In a street contiguous to the public warehouses, I
encountered piles of boxes filled with a very coarse
liquorice, and which were being disposed of in lots by
auction. The liquorice was purchased that it might
be mixed with a portion of tRe tobacco, in the process

THE WESTERN WORLD. 75

of its manufacture, the poison being thus sweetened,
to render it palatable to the uninitiated.

The neighbourhood of Richmond is rich in mine
ral resources. The coal strata are not only abun
dant, but in some places approach so near the sur
face as to be worked at but little cost. The largest
coal company is that called the English company ;
the coal, when raised, being carried from its pits, by
means of a private railway, to the port of Richmond,
a few miles below the city, whence it is shipped to
the different markets of the Union. There is also a
good deal of iron in the vicinity ; but either from
the difficulty of mining it, or from the hold which
English and Pennsylvania iron has got of the market,
it is as yet but little worked.

The people of Richmond are a peculiar people.
They are proud and sensitive to a degree. They are
proud, in the first place, of their State, and in the
next, of its capital ; in addition to which, they are
not a little satisfied with the moral superiorities to
which they lay claim. Their code of honour is so
exceedingly strict that it requires the greatest cir
cumspection to escape its violation. An offence
which elsewhere would be regarded as of homeo
pathic proportions, is very apt to assume in Rich
mond the gravity of colossal dimensions; even a
coolness between parties is dangerous, as having a
fatal tendency speedily to ripen into a deadly feud.
Once arrived at this point, a personal encounter is
inevitable, unless, to avoid it, one party or the other
is induced to quit the city. It is curious enough to
witness the cool and matter-of-course way in which
even the ladies will speculate upon the necessities
for, and the probabilities of, a hostile meeting
E 2

76 THE WESTERN WOULD.

between such and such parties, and in which, when
they hear of a duel, they will tell you that they long
foresaw it, and that it could not be avoided. After
all, this state of things, although it may indicate less
of a healthy habit than of a morbid sensibility, gives
to Richmond society a chivalrous and romantic cast,
which is rarely to be met with in matter-of-fact Ame
rica. It is seldom, indeed, that they imitate, in their
personal warfare, the savage brutalities of the south
western States; their quarrels, generally speaking,
taking some time to mature, and the parties, when
the day of reckoning at length comes, fighting like
gentlemen instead of like tigers or hyenas,

The society of Richmond adds the warmth and
fervour of the south to that frank and ready hospi
tality which is characteristic of American society in
general. It is rarely that the stranger, in his social
contact with the Americans, has to encounter the
frigid influences of formalism. In Virginia, conven
tion is, perhaps, more than anywhere else subjugated
by the heart. It is astonishing how soon each party
in an assembly appears in his or her real character.
Entering a drawing-room at Richmond is like enter
ing a theatre with the curtain up, when there is no
ugly, green-baize screen between you, the scenery,
and the performers. In no other place has it ever
appeared to me that life was so little disfigured by
masquerade. The thoughts are accorded a freedom
of utterance, which is never abused, and dislikes and
partialities come equally to the surface ; the one not
being smothered, the other not concealed. He must
look into himself for the cause, who does not feel him
self at once at home with his frank and hospitable
friends. The ladies of Richmond partake of that

THE WESTERN WORLD. 77

easy grace, the causes of which, as a characteristic of
Virginian society, I shall presently trace.

At an evening party, which I had the pleasure of
attending, it was my good fortune to meet with Mr.
W. C. Rives, for many years one of the representa
tives of Virginia in the Senate of the United States,
and for some time American Minister at Paris. I
found him to be a man of liberal views and varied
information. As a politician, however, he is now
regarded as somewhat passe, having differed with his
own party without receiving any cordial welcome from
the Whigs. When I met him, he was gradually
yielding to the seductive influences of Mr. Abbot
Lawrence, the prince of manufacturers and protec
tionists in America, who had recently addressed to
him several letters, in favour of a high tariff, through
the columns of the newspapers, with a view, if pos
sible, to enlisting the sympathies of Virginia in favour
of protection. Mr. Lawrence was, at that very time,
in Richmond, which, as the chief seat of Virginian
manufacture, he was striving to convert to the prohi
bitory doctrines of New England.

As already intimated, American society has a
peculiar development in Virginia. The social system
is there beset with influences which in most parts of
the country are unknown, and some of which are but
partially experienced in others. Not that the mani
festation of society which obtains in Virginia is
exclusively confined to that State, for most of its
social characteristics are common to some of the ad
jacent States, particularly to Maryland and South
Carolina. In its peculiarities therefore, in this
respect, Virginia is not to be regarded as the sole
exception to the general tenor of American society.

78 THE WESTERN WOULD.

It is at once the type and the most striking specimen
of the social development peculiar to the slave-holding
States of the Atlantic sea-board; and it is only as illus
trative of such that I have here particularly alluded
to the more distinctive features of Virginian society.
The division of property in Virginia is totally dif
ferent from that which prevails in the northern and
north-western States. In the latter it is very rarely
that one meets with great accumulations of landed
property in the hands of a single individual or family.
The system of land tenures is adverse to such accu
mulations ; as it is indeed in Virginia, so far as statu
tory enactments are concerned ; but these enactments
are controlled by other circumstances, which go far to
counteract their operation. In the north and north
west, large landed estates are the rare exception ; in
Virginia they are the rule. Both in the one case and
in the other, the same general principle may be recog
nised as prevailing — that no one should occupy more
land than he can cultivate; but, from the diversity of so
cial and political institutions, this principle does not, in
the two instances, lead to the same results. Through
out the whole north and north-west, where the frame
is hardy, where the climate invites to work, where
the competition is great and the people are inured to
toil, where slavery does not exist and labour is not
considered as dishonourable, the land is divided into
small holdings, few possessing more than they can
occupy and cultivate. But in Virginia and the ad
jacent States the case is very different; the land
being there parcelled off into large estates, called
plantations, consisting, in many cases, of tens of
thousands of acres. In the real property system of
these States, the Revolution has, practically, wrought

THE WESTE11N WORLD. 79

but very little change. The estate of a Virginian
landlord is, in some of its features, very closely assimi
lated to an English manor. The transatlantic pro
prietor has certainly none of the political or judicial
prerogatives of his English prototype ; but, in all
other respects, he exercises the same control over
his property as the lord exercises, or was wont to
exercise, over the demesne lands of the manor. In
the most convenient part of the estate is generally to
be found the manor-house, and, with the exception of
his family and his guests, all who live upon it are the
vassals or slaves of the proprietor. Each estate., too, has
its appropriate name, as is the case in England; but
this is very different from the principle which obtains
in the north, where each man's property is known as
such and such a lot, in such and such a division, of
such and such a township. In short, the real pro
perty system of Virginia is the closest approximation
to that which, until a very recent period, was so
generally prevalent in England, of any that is to be
found in the United States.

The influence which this exercises upon society is
great and strikingly perceptible. It is almost impos
sible, in civilized life, to find two states of being more
in contrast with each other than those of the landed
proprietors of the north and south. It is rarely that
the former is not found personally occupied in the
cultivation of his own lot or piece of ground. The
latter is wholly unaccustomed to labour, and, not un-
frequently, delegates to others the business even of
superintending the affairs of his estate. These con
ditions will suggest to the English reader the different
positions of the country gentleman and the small
farmer in this country. Not only is the American

80 THE WESTERN WORLD.

farmer generally the chief labourer on his own land,
but the different members of his family — his wife, his
daughters, and sons, unless ambition prompt the last-
mentioned to seek the towns for the purpose of en
gaging in mercantile or professional pursuits, take
their respective and appropriate shares in the manage
ment of the farm. This daily habit of cheerful toil,
if not very favourable to the growth of the amenities
of life, keeps the energies from becoming dormant,
begets self-reliance, and gives rise to a sturdy feeling
of independence. Very different is it with the luxu
rious planter of the south. To him labour would be
disgrace. Vegetating, as it were, upon his estate, and
surrounded by hundreds of slaves ready to obey his
nod, he frequently disencumbers himself even of the
management of his property, which he entrusts to the
care of overseers, giving himself up to recreation and
amusement, and, in many cases, to study, to which he
is invited by the beauteous repose and the glorious
serenity of nature, which mark his enervating climate.
And so with his family. Strangers to toil, and de
pendent for almost every comfort upon the labour of
others, they have time and opportunity to cultivate
that indescribable ease and grace which are typical of
the more polished circles in older communities. It is
thus that one much more frequently meets with the
conventional lady and gentleman in the slave, than in
the free States; the latter being not only more polished
in manner than his northern countryman, but also
presenting a higher standard of intellectual cultiva
tion ; and the former only finding her parallel, as a
general rule, in the more accomplished circles of the
northern cities.

Domestic slavery predominates, perhaps, to a

THE WESTERN WORLD. SI

greater extent in Virginia than in any of the adjoin
ing States, where it is more generally to be met
with in its predial and harsher aspect. The slaves
about the household are usually divided amongst the
different members of the family, as is the case in
Russia ; and it is singular to witness the attachment
which sometimes springs up between the master and
the slave. Frequently, too, when there are guests in
the house, to each is assigned a slave or slaves, whose
duty it is to wait upon him or her during the visit.

An incident in Virginia, which will be recognised
as analogous to some of the habits of English country
life, is to be found in the visiting parties, which, dur
ing a portion of the year, take place throughout the
State. A planter and his family will then have their
friends in the neighbourhood, and frequently some of
those at a distance, under their roof for weeks to
gether, the whole time being spent in one continued
round of gaiety and amusement. For this their
mansions are well adapted, being constructed on a
large and commodious scale, as compared with the
rural dwellings to be found in the free and grain-
growing States ; and many of them presenting to the
eye large piles of irregular architecture, quite in con
trast with the prim and formal style of the north, and
consisting generally of a colonial nucleus, to which a
variety of wings have been appended since the epoch
of the Revolution. I was startled the first time I saw
quaint old turrets and projecting and multitudinous
gable ends, embowered amid the foliage of the New
World. It seemed to me that such things were more
in keeping when in juxtaposition with the 'spread
ing oak and the beech, than with the hickory, the
black walnut and the acacia< What I would have
E 3

82 THE WESTERN WORLD.

looked for on the Severn and the Dee, surprised me,
at first, when met with on the Roanoke and the
Shenandoah.

During the continuance of these visits, the guests
sometimes meet each other at, and at other times not till
after, breakfast. When a general excursion is pro
posed, they set off immediately, before the heat of the
day comes on. When nothing of the kind is contem
plated, a portion of the morning is spent in walking
about the grounds, or in making some preliminary
preparations for the amusements of the evening.
About eleven o'clock they all disappear, to avoid the
heat of the day ; the ladies retiring to their rooms,
the gentlemen, with the exception of such as go hunt
ing or fishing, to theirs. The chambers are partially
darkened, to avoid the heat and fierce glare of mid
day ; and the burning hours are thus passed either
in reading or in yielding to their somnolent influences.
In the afternoon, when parties dare to face the sun,
they emerge from their hiding places, and all is life
again ; attention being occupied by a variety of amuse
ments till dinner-time. The evening is generally
devoted to dancing, which, when the heat is too
oppressive to admit of its continuance within, is some
times transferred to the lawn ; and a pretty sight it
is, in the broad moonlight, and when the dew has
forgotten to fall, to see a whole party thus engaged —
the ringing laugh accompanying, every now and then,
the evolutions of the dance ; whilst hard by may be
seen a dusky crowd of both sexes, jabbering and grin
ning in innocent mirth, and apparently, in being
permitted to witness it, enjoying the scene as much
as their masters, who are mixing in it.

The English reader has already, through a variety

THE- WESTERN WORLD. 83

of channels, been made familiar with the appearance
presented by an American table. I can scarcely
avoid, however, here briefly referring to the promi
nent part borne by Indian corn in southern, and
particularly in Virginia, dietary. With us the term
" corn" is applied preeminently to wheat — in America
it is exclusively used to designate the Indian grain,
which is consumed in enormous quantities by man
and beast, not only in the States, but also in the
Canadas and the other British provinces. The ex
tent to which it is used over the entire continent, is
only equalled by the variety of modes in which it is
prepared. Whilst it is yet green in the ear, it be
comes, by boiling, a delicious vegetable for the table ;
and when ripe, is capable, before it is ground, of
being prepared for food in a great variety of ways.
To describe the multifarious uses to which it is
applied in the shape of flour is almost impossible ;
making its appearance in every form, from the crude
condition of gruel and stirabout, through the stages of
pancakes, to bread in twenty different shapes, arid
compounds of the richest and most luscious descrip
tion. In Virginia, corn-bread has almost entirely
banished every other species of bread from common
use, and this not only with the poorest, but also with
the wealthiest classes. It is customary when Vir
ginians have guests in their houses, to put wheaten
bread upon the table ; but when the family is left to
itself, wheaten bread may not make its appearance, at
any meal, for weeks at a time. I once saw Indian
flour in seven different forms of preparation upon
a private breakfast-table. It is thus universally used,
because it is universally preferred to wheat in any form,
although the very best wheat raised in the country is

84 THE WESTERN WOELD.

the produce of Virginia. I mention these facts to
remove, as far as possible, the prejudice which, from
two causes, exists in this country against Indian corn.
The first is, that it is looked upon as an inferior diet,
to which those who use it are driven by a species of
necessity ; and that it is deficient in nutritious quali
ties. The fact that it is not only extensively used by
all classes throughout America, whilst in the south
its use is almost exclusive in the shape of bread, not
only in the hut of the slave, but in the mansion of
his master, and that those who undergo the greatest
toil, in many parts of the country, seldom consume
any other grain, is sufficient to demonstrate the
groundlessness of this supposition. The second cause
of the prejudice is the unpalatable shape in which it
has generally been presented to the people of this
country. In no form in which it is used in America
is it ever taken cold. When wanted in the shape of
bread, no more is baked than is necessary for the
time being. It is never baked, as it has been here, in
large quantities, and in the shape of loaves, as ordi
nary flour is baked into bread ; nor is it mixed with
any other species of flour or meal. Indian corn is
always best when used by itself, with the exception
of such ingredients as eggs, butter, milk, sugar, &c.,
which are frequently superadded in its preparation to
give it additional richness and flavour. To my palate
it was never so sweet as when prepared in the very
simplest manner. In preparing it for their own use,
the negro women generally mix -it simply with water
and a little salt; the dough, which is thus formed,
being made up into a roll about the size and shape of
a soda-water bottle, without the neck. This is en
veloped in the hot ashes of a wood-fire, which is the

THE WESTERN WOULD. 85

simple process by which it is baked. When ready
it is taken to the pump, and whilst yet hot the ashes
are washed off it. When they wish to be a little
particular, they protect it, by enveloping it in leaves
before covering it with the ashes. Simple though
this preparation be, the bread produced by it is, whilst
warm, exceedingly sweet. The " hoe cake " is the
product of a similar ceremony, with the exception of
its being toasted by the fire, instead of being baked
in the ashes.

In no other part of the country, perhaps, is the
pride of ancestry so greatly cherished as in Virginia.
Indeed, I found throughout the Republic that, when
an American was positive that he had a grandfather, he
was quite as partial to his memory as grandchildren
are wont to be in more aristocratic communities. It
is not without considerable satisfaction that descent
is thus traced back to the colonial era, which is of
course proportionably enhanced when the Atlantic can
be crossed, and the Propositus John Stiles of the gene
alogical diagram can be traced to some English local
ity. There are many Virginian families who greatly
pride themselves on their direct and demonstrable
English connexion, more demonstrable here, perhaps,
than elsewhere, because the property of Virginia has
changed hands, since the Revolution, to a less extent
than in any other State of the Union. A Virginian was
once dilating to me upon this weakness, as he termed
it, in the character of his countrymen, but about
five minutes afterwards he confidentially informed me
that he could trace a very direct family connexion
between himself and William the Conqueror. He
must have read in my look that I regarded this as
rather a strange commentary upon his previous

86 THE WESTERN WORLD.

criticism on Virginian character, for he immediately
added, that it was his delight to curb the pride of a
maiden aunt of his, who was very fond of referring to
the circumstance, by reminding her that on the female
side they were descended from a poor Irish girl, who
had been transported, and purchased for a hogshead of
tobacco on the banks of the James.

Nature has divided the State of Virginia into three
great and distinct sections ; the tide-water region,
the central valley, and the western portion of the
State. Of these, the central valley, or the Valley of
Virginia, as it is frequently called, is by far the most
eligible in every point of view. It is on it that the
Virginians concentrate their pride. Indeed they call
it Virginia. And truly, without traversing it, the
stranger can form but an inadequate conception of the
characteristics of the State, either in a moral or a
material point of view. Properly speaking, this
central portion includes all that lies between the
tide- water and the westerly districts of the State,
embracing about one moiety of it. The valley, so
called, is comprehended in this, extending in a north
easterly and south-westerly direction, and nestling
in the very lap of the Alleganies, which, in traversing
the State, separate into two great, with several sub
sidiary parallel ridges, which throw out their spurs
for considerable distances in every direction. The
area of the valley thus enclosed is equal to about
one-fourth that of the State. The more easterly of
the two ridges bears the general name of the Blue
Mountains. Nothing of the kind can be more charm
ing to the eye than their appearance on approaching
them. Their outline is but little varied, as they
loom in the distance over the surrounding country ;

THE WESTERN WOULD. 87

but when seen through the clear air, whilst you are
yet a day's journey from them, they appear as if afloat
in the far off sky, clothed in the softest tint of mingled
blue and green, on which the eye rests with rapture,
and which it finds relief, as it were, in drinking in.

At the base of this ridge, both on its eastern and
western sides, lie ranges of counties, unmatched in
fertility and productiveness by any others in the State.
Most of the tobacco raised in the State is produced
to the eastward of the mountains, where a great deal
of wheat is also annually produced. Wheat is the
principal product of the valley. Here, too, the
estates are far from being so large as they are in
other portions of the State. In fact, life in the valley
is, in the main, a condition of society intermediate
between that just described, and the social develop
ment of the northern and north-western States.
Labour is not here altogether discreditable to the
white man, and the slaves are comparatively few in
number. It is only in autumn that one can fully
appreciate the richness of this beautiful and salu
brious region, when the golden wheat is ready for
the sickle, and the tall Indian corn is bending with
the weight of its product, arid when the many orch
ards that chequer the slopes of the hills are spangled
with their mellow fruit, amongst which the apple and
the peach are conspicuously abundant, so much 'so,
indeed, that the hogs are frequently permitted to
satiate themselves upon them.

The whole valley abounds in mineral springs, which
are annually resorted to in great numbers by
invalids and fashionables. There are the White
Sulphur, the Blue Sulphur, and the Red Sulphur
Springs, the Warm and the Cold Springs, and a variety

88 THE WESTERN WORLD.

of others, whose names denote their characteristic
quality. Some of these are for internal, others for
external, application. At some, the accommodations
are good ; at others, rather indifferent. Many live in
hotels, others in small cottages, built by themselves
near the springs, upon lots given them for that pur
pose by the owner, on condition that when they are
not occupying them, the owner of the ground shall
have the use of them. Most of those who thus live,
take their meals at the hotels. In the immediate
neighbourhood of one of the principal springs, the

ground is owned by a Mr. C , who has parcelled

off a good deal of it on the above condition, and
keeps the only hotel in the place. Everything is in
first-rate style, except the table, of which great com
plaint is frequently made; but the landlord coolly
tells his guests, that they only pay him for their
accommodation in the way of lodgings, and that, as
he gives them their meals into the bargain, it does
not become them to complain. They have no pos
sible redress, for he will neither sell nor lease an inch
of ground in the neighbourhood, for the purpose of
building a rival hotel. Many families, from all parts
of the Union, prefer the quiet and retirement of the
springs of Virginia, to the hurry-scurry life and
fashionable vortex of Saratoga.

In many respects, the sea-board, or tide-water
region, differs materially from the portion of the
State just described. The soil is poor and scanty ;
the products are less varied and less abundant : the
estates are large, and the slaves upon them exceed
ingly numerous ; and, to crown all, from July to
October a great portion of it is uninhabitable by the
white man.

THE "WESTERN WORLD. 89

The reader will find, on glancing at the map, that
between the Atlantic and the Alleganies, the continent
is divided into two great terraces, which run parallel
to the mountains and the sea-board. That next the
sea-board is low and flat, and extends, at some points,
upwards of 150 miles into the interior, at others to
a much less distance. The other rises immediately
from it, is broken and undulating, and extends west
ward to the mountain chain. It is evident, therefore,
that the rivers, in pursuing their course eastward to
the Atlantic, must undergo a series of descents, or
one very abrupt descent, in their channels, in leaving
the one level for the other. It is thus that almost all
the rivers which drain the continent into the Atlantic
have, at some point or points in their course, their
respective falls or rapids. At Glen's Falls, the Hudson
abruptly changes its level; at Trenton, the Delaware,
though not so abruptly, does the same ; at George
town, near Washington, the Potomac, by a series of
rapids, finds the tide-water level ; as does the James
River at Richmond. A similar formation, though
not in connexion with the same system, seems to
prevail in the valley of the St. Lawrence, the waters
of Lake Erie plunging by the Falls of Niagara to
the level of Lake Ontario, from which they seek the
still lower level of the tide-water region, by the
stupendous rapids of the St. Lawrence. Up the
channels of these rivers the tide flows, until it is
checked by the sudden change which takes place in
the level of the country. Thus in the St. Lawrence,
it flows up to Three Rivers, 90 miles above Quebec,
and nearly 500 miles from the Gulf, although in this
case it does not reach the rapids, the lowest of which
is close to Montreal, 90 miles still higher up. In

90 THE WESTERN WORLD.

the Hudson it flows upwards of 150 miles from the
ocean ; in the Delaware, past Philadelphia ; in the
Potomac, 140 miles from Chesapeake Bay, up to
Washington ; and in the James, to Richmond, upwards
of 120 miles from its entrance into the Atlantic.
The same physical phenomenon may be traced still
further southward, through the Carolinas and Georgia.
To the north of the Potomac, the tide-water region
is as healthy, perhaps, as any other portion of the
country in corresponding latitudes; but the exhalations
of summer from the low marshy grounds of the tide
water districts of Virginia, North and South Carolina,
and Georgia, so poison the atmosphere, that by the
month of July, every white inhabitant who can, is
fain to fly the pestilential region, until the ensuing
October. How many things frequently, without our
dreaming of it, influence largely the institutions of
society, and the moral and political condition of man!
I now approach a painful subject, in considering
which with all the calmness and impartiality at my
command, I shall endeavour to illustrate how far even
this configuration of the continent influences the
all-important question of Slavery.

CHAPTER IV.

SIAVERY, — IN ITS POLITICAL ASPECT.

Misconception which prevails in reference to Slavery in America. —
Necessity of candidly considering the subject. — Slavery, as a
political question, the prime Difficulty of the Republic.— Division
of the Union into Free and Slave-holding States. — Parties to
which the question of Slavery gives rise. — The Abolitionists but a
section of the Anti-slavery party. — Different Views of parties. —
Constitutional Question involved. — Congress has no power over
the subject in the States. — Power over it reserved to the separate
States. — Who to blame, and who not to blame, for its continuance
in the States. — Powers of Congress over Slavery in the District of
Columbia. — Questions raised in connexion with this power
between the Abolitionists arid the Slave-holders. — The cause of
humanity has gained, not lost, by the limitation of the powers of
Congress. — Moral influence exerted by the North in behalf of
Emancipation. — Indiscretion of the Abolitionists. — Consequences
of this upon the prospects of the Slave. — Question between the
Eepublic and Humanity. — The Defence which the former prefers. —
Insuperable Difficulties in the way of immediate Abolition. —
Emancipation of her Slaves by Great Britain. — No Parallel between
the two cases. — Slavery, and the Declaration of Independence. —
The question of Slavery as it affects the Union. — Approach of the
Crisis. — Conclusion.

IF there is one subject on which, more than another,
misconception prevails in this country ; on which pre
judice over-rides the judgment, and philanthropy
discards from its consideration every notion of prac
ticability, it is that of slavery in the United States.
On most questions connected with America, there is
a disposition in many quarters to jump at unfavourable
conclusions ; but on no subject so much as on this, is
decision so independent of previous examination into
the circumstances of the case. European prejudice
fastens eagerly upon slavery as a welcome crime to

92 THE WESTERN WOULD.

charge upon the American republic; and philanthropy
in the headlong pursuit of its end, defeats its own
purpose by stumbling over the difficulties to which
it is wilfully blind. That there is a stain on the
escutcheon of the Republic is palpable to all. Political
antipathies chuckle at its existence, whilst benevolence
is outraged because it is not instantaneously eradi
cated. Few understand the merits of the case, be
cause few care to examine into them* In the general
cry against American slavery there is some justice,
but more of prejudice and mistaken zeal. It is treated
as a cloak, which the Republic could lay aside at its
pleasure, instead of as involving a question of tran-
scendant difficulty, from being an institution which
enters into the very texture and fibre of its frame.

It is with a view to present it succinctly in all its
bearings, that I devote this and the succeeding chapter
to the consideration of the important question of
American slavery. In making the tour of the country,
I could not select a better opportunity for investi
gating into this subject, than whilst yet a sojourner
in Virginia* the chief "breeding State." Nor will
the time be deemed as inaptly chosen for its full and
dispassionate consideration, when it is borne in mind
to how great an extent the tide is now unfortunately
turning in Europe, if not in favour of slavery, at least
of something very nearly approximating to it. Whilst
the public mind is becoming imbued with the notion
that, in the course which was pursued in regard to the
West Indies, if we have not gone too far, we acted
at least with rashness and precipitation, it will not
refuse a dispassionate inquiry into the perplexing and
ill-understood question of American slavery. In doing
what lies in my power to guide this inquiry, I shall
first consider the institution in its political aspect.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 93

It may be as well to premise that I am neither the
apologist of slavery in the abstract, nor the panegyrist
of the phase, which, as a domestic institution, it has
assumed in America. In what follows, on this subject,
my sole object will be to present the question in its
true light, so as to enable the reader to form his own
conclusions. To such as prefer prejudging the sub
ject, I have nothing to say ; my exposition being
exclusively addressed to those whose candour in
clines them to form a correct estimate of a sad
reality.

As a political question, it is, beyond doubt, the
prime difficulty of the Confederacy— a proposition,
with the truth of which none are more deeply im
pressed than are the Americans themselves. However
they may differ in their views as to the course which
should be pursued in regard to it, as an established
institution, its actual presence amongst them is a fact
which they universally deplore. There it is, a great
and an acknowledged evil, which they must either
endure, or dissipate in a mode which will not super
induce greater evils still. It hangs about the social and
political system, like a great tumour upon the body,
which cannot be suddenly cut away, without risking a
hemorrhage which would endanger life, and which
cannot be permitted to remain without incurring perils
equally certain, though not so immediate. The
perplexing question is, as to the remedies to be
applied for its gradual extinction, and as to the time
and mode of their application. Meantime the evil is
on the increase, and the worst presentiments are en
tertained as to its issue, as regards both the political
and social destinies of the Republic.

For the better understanding of the subject, the
reader will excuse me for here reminding him that

9i THE WESTERN WORLD.

slavery in the United States is not an institution
common to the whole Republic. In this respect the
Union resolves itself into two great institutional divi
sions, the line of demarcation being about the 39th
parallel of latitude ; in other words, the Confederacy
is divided into the free States of the north, and the
slave-holding States of the south. The former are as
free from the taint of slavery as is England herself,
most of them having washed their hands of it at
a much earlier period than she did. The political
balance subsisting between these two sections of the
Union will be more appropriately considered hereafter.
All that is now necessary for a due understanding of
the position of parties, with respect to slavery is, that
the fact of this division should be kept in view.

It is not my purpose to go into an historical ac
count of the abolition movement in America, but
simply to show the present position of parties with
respect to the question of slavery. The anti- and
pro-slavery parties have no necessary connexion with
the great political parties of the country. Abolitionism
is a creed common both to the Democrat and to the
Whig, the antagonist doctrine also finding its adherents
in the ranks of both parties. As a general rule, how
ever, the abolition tenets are more extensively har
boured by the Whigs in the north than by their poli
tical opponents ; the name of " Abolition Whigs"
being given them by the Democrat, when it suits his
humour to be particularly bitter.

The anti-slavery party is divided into two sections,
comprising those who are known, par excellence, as the
Abolitionists, and those who, not ranging themselves
under the abolition banners, are opposed to slavery
from considerations which will be presently adverted
to. There is no division to be observed in the

THE WESTERN WORLD. 95

opposite ranks. Although the pro-slavery party are,
generally speaking, confined to the South, they are not
without their "sympathisers" and abettors in the north.
The great stronghold of the other party is, of course,
the free north, although there are many who co-operate
with them, even in the southern section of the Confe
deracy. It will thus be seen that, even on this ques
tion, which comes nearer than any other to the division
of parties into geographical sections, party feeling,
instead of being confined to certain parallels of lati
tude, is homogeneous to the Union. Taking the two
parties generally, the question raised between them is
one mainly, if not entirely, of a political cast. True,
the section of the anti-slavery party, known as the Abo
litionists proper, make their principal stand upon the
morality of the question, contending that no conside
rations of political expediency can justify the existence
of an institution, so offensive to morals and religion, for
a moment longer than the time needed to erase it by the
transcendant power of legislation. Their more mode
rate coadjutors, comprising the great bulk of the anti-
slavery party, agreeing with them as to the immorality
of the institution, and the desirableness of getting rid
of it, differ with them as to the safety or practicability
of its instantaneous abolition. Nor are all the Aboli
tionists men of impracticable views; although on this
question of gradual or immediate emancipation, the
majority of them differ from the bulk of the anti-
slavery party ; and it is this difference which makes
the Abolitionists act politically together, independently
of the rest of that party. Thus, frequently, both in
local and general elections, they are found forgetting
their political differences, and acting in concert — some
times having candidates of their own. This is the only
way in which this fragment of the constituency of the

96 THE WESTERN WORLD.

country — for, after all, they "are by no means numerous
— can exert a political influence ; and sometimes the
balance of parties is so nice, that that influence is not
unimportant. It was the abolitionist vote of the State
of New York that gave to Mr. Polk, instead of to Mr.
Clay, the Presidency in 1844. The consequences of
that vote have been the Oregon dispute, and the rup
ture with, and spoliation of, Mexico. The ground
assumed by the pro-slavery party is simply that of po
litical expediency. Even in the south there are none
bold enough openly to defend slavery on any other
pretext. If they entertain other sentiments, they
render homage to morals and humanity by carefully
concealing them. The views of the different parties
may be summed up thus: — The pro-slavery party,
admitting the abstract injustice of the institution, treat
it, nevertheless, as an unfortunate fact, of which they
cannot get rid, or which, at best, they can only gra
dually obliterate. The bulk of the anti-slavery party,
agreeing with them in this, urge them to commence
at once, and to hasten, by all practicable means, the
work of its extinction ; whilst the more zealous wing
of that party, the Abolitionists, are ready to sacrifice
every other consideration to their grand desideratum
of immediate emancipation.

Such being the state of parties, and such the ge
neral views entertained by them, it becomes important
now to consider the constitutional question involved
in the issue between them. This has an obvious bear
ing upon the whole subject, in treating of slavery as
an American question ; especially when it is borne in
mind that constitutional governments are, or should
be, guided in their conduct by prescribed rules of
action. It is only through the instrumentality of a
political agency, that the institution of slavery can be

THE WESTERN WORLD. 97

either modified or extinguished ; and I shall now pro
ceed to show what that agency is in America, and the
mode in which alone it can be put in operation.

The majority of those who indiscriminately charge
slavery as a crime upon the whole American republic,
do so under the impression that Congress has the same
transcendent power over it as the British Parliament
rightfully exercised over servitude in the West In
dies. This impression argues either an ignorance or
a forgetfulness both of the constitution and functions
of Congress. There is no omnipotent legislature in
America. Congress is the creature of the Consti
tution, and its action, like that of the local legisla
tures, is circumscribed by certain specified limits ;
beyond which it has no constitutional power to act.
Its legislative powers are strictly confined to those
cases in which the power of legislation has been ex
pressly conceded to it ; in all others it is impotent for
good or evil. The question, then, obviously arises,
Does slavery fall within the category of cases in which
Congress has been expressly, or even by implication,
empowered to legislate? It does not. It follows,
therefore, that Congress has no more power over
slavery in any of the American States, than has the
British Parliament. This incompetency of Congress
to meddle with the subject, implies the abdication of
all right to interfere with it, on the part of the people,
in their aggregate capacity. To this abdication, as
will immediately be seen, the weightiest considerations
contributed, and with the most favourable results.
For what the people, in their aggregate capacity,
cannot effect, the people, in that capacity, cannot be
held responsible. Whatever charge, therefore, may
be brought against those who have absolute and

VOL. II. F

98 THE WESTERN WORLD.

undoubted power over the whole subject, it is ob
viously improper to visit the entire confederacy with
the peculiar sins of some only of its independent
component members.

As observed in a former chapter, in the distribution
of powers between the general and local authorities,
a line of demarcation was drawn between such matters
as were purely of a domestic, and such as were of
federal concern. It suited the views of the framers of
the Constitution, to comprehend slavery within the
former classification, by which it was entirely with
drawn from federal jurisdiction. It is, then, exclu
sively a question of State cognizance, with which no
legislation but that of each particular State can deal ;
Congress, for instance, having no more authority over
slavery in South Carolina, than it has to dig a canal,
construct a railway, or erect a bridge in the State.
Under these circumstances it is obvious, that what
ever blame attaches to the institution, rests solely with
the States in which slavery still legally and politically
exists ; for as the slave States 'can claim no share of
the credit which belongs to the free States for the ex
ample of emancipation set by them, so it is manifestly
unjust to involve the free States in the turpitude of
their more guilty, and, it must be confessed, their
more unfortunate confederates.

This is the reason why the more energetic and po
pulous section of the Confederacy takes no active poli
tical part in the question of emancipation. The people
of New York, as of the other northern States, abolished
slavery themselves, within their respective limits, with
out the intervention or interference of their neigh
bours ; and in confining themselves to the exercise of
a mere moral influence over their southern brethren,

THE WESTERN WOULD. 99

they are only according them that liberty -which they
themselves enjoyed, and the invasion of which they
would have resented. Little as this mutual inde
pendence of the different States, in relation to this
subject, is appreciated here, it is so well understood
in America, that even the most zealous of the Aboli
tionists acknowledge that it is only through local
agency that they can succeed in their object. They
never think of calling upon Congress to do that which
it is incompetent to do, to interfere with the domestic
institutions of the slave-holding States. On this all
parties are agreed ; but the point on which the Abo
litionists are said to have erred, is as to the mode in
which they have conducted their operations within the
limits of the slave States.

But although all parties repudiate the idea that
Congress has any power over slavery in the slave
States, the issue which has been so fiercely contested
between the Abolitionists and their antagonists is, as to
the power of Congress over slavery in the District of
Columbia. The peculiar political position of the
District, and the exclusive control of Congress over it,
have been previously adverted to. It is here that the
Abolitionists have attacked slavery in what they con
sider its stronghold. Nestled as it is within the ter
ritories of two of the principal slave-holding States,
Maryland and Virginia, the Abolitionists have acted
upon the principle, that by getting the District free,
they would inflict a most effectual blow upon the
whole system of slavery. The facility of escape which
would be thereby offered to the slaves in the conti
guous States, would be such as it was hoped
would, by-and-by, render the continuance of the in
stitution a matter of indifference both to Virginia and
F2

100 THE WESTERN WORLD.

Maryland ; and slavery once abolished or relaxed in
these States, the others would not be long in imi
tating their example. Lured by this tempting and
not unfeasible project, the Abolitionists have long
urged the abolition of slavery in the District. But
it was precisely the reasoning which led them into
this track, which induced the slave States, in a body,
to meet them in it, and resist them. The danger to
the institution of slavery, which the success of this
project would have involved, was too obvious to be
long undiscovered ; and it has therefore been chiefly
on this point that the warfare has been waged.

A double issue was immediately raised between the
parties — first, as to the power of Congress to abolish
slavery within the District ; and next, as to the expe
diency of so doing, should the power be proved to
exist. As to the first issue, the Abolitionists cite the
17th clause of the 8th section of the Constitution, in
proof of the affirmative. The section enumerates the
powers of Congress, and the clause confers upon that
body authority (< to exercise exclusive legislation, in
all cases whatsoever, over the District of Columbia."
The Abolitionists contend that nothing could be larger
than the authority conveyed by these words, Congress
being invested by them with a species of absolute
dominion over the "ten miles square;" and being
authorized by them to exercise, in the District, any
power which rightfully falls within the pale of human
legislation. They then go on to say that, as the
subject of slavery falls within such pale, the constitu
tional right of Congress to legislate, in regard to it,
cannot be disputed.

Their opponents reason otherwise. They deny that
Congress has the power to do anything, within the

THE WESTERN WORLD. 101

district, that falls within the pale of human legisla
tion. The very section, of which the clause in ques
tion is a part, contains other clauses of a restrictive
character, which are as restrictive of the powers of
Congress in the District of Columbia, as throughout
the Union generally. Thus Congress cannot create
a separate standard of weights and measures for the
district, nor can it impose upon it a law of naturaliza
tion or bankruptcy, which is jjot uniform throughout
the United States. This cuts at once at the ground
taken by the Abolitionists, since it appears that there
are some things which fall within the pale of legisla
tion, which Congress, even in the District, can only do
in a limited and restricted sense. But then, say the
Abolitionists, the powers granted within the District
are so general, that every power can be exercised
within it, but such as are especially excepted ; and
they call upon the slave-holders to show that slavery
is one of the exceptional cases. And here they fairly
have their opponents in a corner, who are thereupon
obliged to shift their ground from the letter to the
spirit of the Constitution, and particularly to the
spirit of the acts of cession, whereby Maryland and
Virginia ceded to the United States their respective
portions of the district. The clause in question was
framed before it was known what spot would be ceded
to, or accepted by, the United States as the seat of
government. Had it been intended, they say, that
any such construction could, or would, be put upon
the clause, could it be supposed, for a moment, that
two of the chief slave-holding States would have
voluntarily transferred to the government ten miles
square on their conterminous boundaries ? And even
were the clause capable of such an interpretation, it

102 THE WESTERN WORLD.

was evidently on the understanding that nothing would
be done by Congress to disturb their domestic institu
tions, that they ceded their respective portions of the
District. To interfere with slavery within its bounds,
they maintain, would violate this understanding, and
peril the social institutions, not only of these two
States, but also of every slave-holding State in the
Union. The whole of the slave-holding communities
thus make common cause with the two States more
immediately concerned, maintaining, as a general
principle, in addition to the foregoing line of reason
ing, that, as the federal government was organized
solely with a view to the better management of federal
affairs, so the powers conferred upon it, with reference
to the District of Columbia, which was ceded to it
merely for purposes of general convenience, cannot be
so construed as to vest in Congress any right, either
directly or by implication, to compromise or interfere
with the domestic institutions of any State in the
Union.

As to the question of the expediency of Congress
exercising this power, were it proved to exist, it is
one which involves so obvious a train of argument on
both sides, that it is unnecessary here to enlarge
upon it.

Such is a very general outline of the constitutional
merits of the question. It will suffice, in addition
to explaining the precise mode in which the issue
between the contending parties is raised, to show how
far the Americans, as an entire people, are now im
plicated, if at all, in the guilt of slavery. The agita
tion for abolition, if it is to be conducted with eifect,
must be conducted within the limits of the Constitu
tion. Confining themselves to these limits, we have

THE WESTERN WORLD. 103

seen that the inhabitants of the northern States, who
form the greater section of the entire community, can
legally exercise no legislative control, direct or in
direct, over the subject, unless, as the Abolitionists
contend, Congress has the power to abolish slavery in
the District of Columbia — a power which would enable
the aggregate people of the Union indirectly to reach
the evil. But even if the letter of the Constitution
would justify their interference, it is a grave question
whether, by touching the institution in the District of
Columbia, they would not be beginning at the wrong
end, and perilling the very object which they had in
view. Such an interference would certainly lead to the
rupture of the Union, on the maintenance of which, at
present, rests the only hope which exists of the spread
of emancipation. It is also a question whether, if
Congress has, by the letter of the Constitution, the
power contended for, it is not virtually precluded from
the exercise of it by the whole spirit of the federal
compact. It is evident then that, if the northern
States have no power to interfere in a legislative
capacity with slavery in the south ; or if, having the
power indirectly so to do, they are prevented from so
doing as well by considerations connected with the
question of slavery itself, as by the whole spirit of the
Constitution and of the articles of Union; they do all,
in reference to the subject, which the world has a
right to expect from them, if they exert all the moral
influence at their command in favour of emancipation.
Whether they do so or not is the point to which those
who seek to involve them in the guilt of the southern
States, should in justice confine themselves.

But it may be urged, that Congress should have
been invested with the whole control over the subject ;

104 THE WESTERN WORLD.

in other words, that the American people, as an entire
people, should have retained in their own hands the
power of relaxing or abolishing slavery at pleasure,
throughout the length and breadth of the Republic.
The permanent position of this question, in the
political arrangement about to be formed, was one of
the many subjects which occupied the public mind at
the time of the adoption of the Constitution ; and the
presumption is certainly in favour of the proposition
that, in determining as they did, they adopted the
wisest, if not the only practicable course. It is
indeed difficult to see, especially when we consider
that slavery, aside of moral considerations, resolves
itself into a mere question of property, how the framers
of the Constitution could have withdrawn it from the
category of matters of purely domestic concern, over
which each State was to have, within its own limits,
exclusive jurisdiction. Having thus determined the
character of the question, it was impossible for them
to bring it within the purview of the powers dele
gated to the general government, which arose out
of a particular necessity, and was organized for a par
ticular object. And, indeed, we have not to look far
'to discover that there were positive and very cogent
reasons for exempting slavery, in the different States
at least, from subjection to federal authority. None
have more reason to rejoice that this was done, than
have the friends of humanity. But for this arrange
ment, who can say that slavery would yet have been
abolished in the now free States of the north? Let
it be remembered that the power to abolish slavery
in the hands of Congress would have implied the
power of retaining it. It might have abolished it in
Massachusetts, and retained it in New York ; or it

THE WESTERN WOULD. 105

might have perpetuated it in all or in any of the free
States. Instead of being, as now, mistress of its own
actions with regard to slavery within its own terri
tories, each State in dealing with it would, under
these circumstances, have been compelled to submit
to the will of the whole. In the earlier days of the
yet youthful Republic, the power of the South was
considered as predominant. The South, too, has
always regarded with jealousy and uneasiness the ap
proach of emancipation to its borders ; and what more
probable than that it would have thrown every ob
stacle in the way of freedom in the North, had any
right been accorded it to interfere. But for the
independent action of each State with regard to
slavery, emancipation would not now have been the
law of one moiety of the Republic. And on the same
action, and on that alone, does emancipation now
depend in the South. It would be monstrous as well
as impolitic, on the part of the Northern States, to
attempt now to effect that in the South by coercion
and interference, the attainment of which, amongst
themselves, they owe entirely to the abstinence from all
interference on the part of their neighbours. What
ever opinions, therefore, may be entertained as to the
political propriety of the arrangement effected in
framing the Constitution, the cause of humanity has
certainly not lost by the withdrawal of the subject of
slavery in the different States from the jurisdiction of
Congress.

Having* thus put the reader in possession of the
question in its legal and constitutional form, and
having glanced at the powers and incapacities of the
different sections of the Union with regard to it, I
shall now proceed briefly to consider how far the

106 THE WESTERN WORLD.

North has made use of that moral influence, which
it is competent for it to exert for the extinction
of slavery in the South. And here let me at once
express my conviction, that the intemperate zeal of
the abolitionist wing of the anti-slavery party has
done more to retard, than the more judicious efforts
of the rest of that party have done to accelerate,
emancipation. Much of that determined opposition
with which the Abolitionists are met in the South, is
attributable to the utter want of discretion with
which, individually and as a body, they have striven
for the attainment of their object. When zeal reaches
a certain point, it becomes blind to every thing but
its purpose, at which it dashes headlong, reckless of
consequences, and deaf to remonstrance. Thus, in
America, an ill-advised philanthropy, instead of un
locking, has only riveted more firmly, the fetters of the
slave. Believing that the letter of the Constitution
confers upon Congress the power to abolish slavery in
the District of Columbia, they have urged, and still urge
that body to exercise this power, regardless of the
whole spirit in which the Union was conceived. To
accede to their wishes, would be to dissolve the whole
political fabric, and to ruin every hope that slavery may
yet be arrested on the continent. Fiat justitia, ruat
ccelum. But who would accept a small, and after all
a questionable benefit, at a cost of a certain and
permanent evil? In carrying the warfare into the
slave States they have been equally unsuccessful,
because equally indiscreet. Their tone, instead of
being persuasive, has been dictatorial; their language,
instead of being that of conciliation, has been inflam
matory and menacing. At first, their publications
were numerous, and their emissaries were active, in

THE WESTERN WORLD. 107

the slave States themselves ; but jvvhen the former
came to convey, and the latter to preach doctrines
which were utterly incompatible with the tranquillity
of the country, it is no wonder that the one was sup
pressed and the other silenced — that the torch was
taken from the hands of those who were ready to
explode the mine in which they themselves, and all
concerned, would have perished together. To preach
the abstract rights of man to a numerous and igno
rant population in bondage, and to press upon them
the right to achieve their freedom at any cost, might
have been justifiable on general principles, but it was
certainly not the way in which to conciliate the masters
to their views — the dominant class, without whose
concurrence and aid nothing effectual could be done.
They should have recollected that, if the principles
on which they acted were divine, the objections which
they had to encounter were human. In some parts
of the country, the blacks are to the whites as five is
to one. Is it any wonder that, under these circum
stances, the white population should have become
alarmed at proceedings, which, if unchecked, must
have terminated in a servile insurrection? The
Abolitionists, in arousing immediate fears, instead of
appealing to remote consequences, forgot to what
lengths men will sometimes be driven in consulting
their own safety. They themselves conjured up an
immediate danger, either real or imaginary, which
the planters, acting on the defensive, took the most
stringent measures to dissipate. The Abolitionists
were proscribed, their doctrines branded with disre
pute, and slavery in the South became sterner than
ever in its character, and more revolting in its aspects.
As a natural consequence, moderate counsels became

108 THE WESTERN WORLD.

as distasteful as violent doctrines ; and the South,
assailed without allowance or discretion, became irri
tated at and jealous of every admonition of philan
thropy. The fault is mainly, if not exclusively, their
own, that the South is now hermetically sealed against
the emissaries of abolition ; and another instance has
thus been added to the many, with which the history
of the world is already so rife, of a good cause having
been all but wrecked by the intemperance of its ad
vocates.

In their demands, too, the Abolitionists have been
as ill-advised as they have been in their mode of push
ing them. Nothing but an impossibility would satisfy
them. When undertaken, as it must be, by gradual
steps, God knows, the path of emancipation in the
South will be found difficult enough. Immediate
emancipation is a chimera. Yet this is what the less
considerate of the Abolitionists insist, or have insisted,
upon. They forget that even in the northern States,
where slavery never obtained a very extensive footing,
and where its extirpation was, therefore, a compara
tively easy task, the work of abolition proceeded gra
dually to its consummation. And if in New York,
New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, a policy of gradation
was deemed advisable, a fortiori should it be that alone
on which the South should be urged or expected to
embark. It is to this that the great bulk of the
anti-slavery party would drive her, from political, as
well as moral considerations. I cannot say that the
influence which they might exert for this purpose is
as steadily applied as it should be. It is generally
in connexion with political questions that it is called
into active exercise ; rising and subsiding with the
occasion which calls it forth.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 109

Such is the position of the question between the
Americans themselves. But it is not simply with one
another that they have to deal with the subject of
slavery. The Republic is arraigned before the bar of
humanity, and has a question to settle with the world.
It cannot be denied that appearances, at least, are
against it. The people, who are rather ostentatious
than otherwise of their championship of social equality
and political freedom, present to the world the start
ling anomaly, if not of being the open advocates, of
being, at least, the chief abettors of slavery. Their
professions seem in glaring contrast with their prac
tice. The asylum of the free is the prison of the
enslaved ; the goddess of liberty is professedly wor
shipped, but the demon of servitude, at the same time,
extensively sacrificed to. Under these circumstances
the Americans should not be surprised that the cur
rent of opinion should, on this point, have set in
against them from the Old World. It is quite true
that there are many in this country, whose interest and
pleasure it is to aggravate their political faults ; but
it must be confessed that there is enough on the sur
face to make their friends and well-wishers, especially
those who have neither time nor the opportunity to
acquaint themselves intimately with the whole subject,
if not loud in their condemnation, at all events dumb
in their defence.

But the Americans feel that, as regards the ques
tion between them and the world, their case is one not
wholly devoid of justification. They hold that an im
partial inquiry into the merits of the case, if it will
not lead to their entire acquittal, will, at least, mitigate
the severity of the accusation. Injustice both to them
and the question, this inquiry should not be refused.

110 THE WESTERN WOULD.

Let us see, then, the extent to which the Americans
can justify themselves before the world, and the
character of their defence.

It is charged upon the free States that they have,
after all, but imperfectly eradicated the stain from
themselves, as a runaway slave is capable of being
reclaimed in any of them by his owner. This arises
from a clause of the Constitution, which is in these
words : — " No person held to service and labour in one
State, under the laws thereof, escaping into another,
shall, in consequence of any law or regulation therein,
be discharged from such service or labour, but shall
be delivered up, on claim of the party to whom such
service or labour may be due." It was evidently im
possible for the southern States, so long as slavery
retained a conspicuous place amongst their insti
tutions, to enter, under any other conditions, into the
federal compact at all. If a slave was to become free
and irreclaimable the moment he entered the territorj'
of any State which might subsequently become free,
it was obvious to what an extent this would have been
fraught with peril to the institutions of the South.
The whole political system of America is based upon
mutual concessions, and this was one, which, if it was
not right in the North to make, it was at least reason
able in the South to insist upon. On the part of the
North, it was one of those elements which entered into
the aggregate cost to them of the Union. It had to
deal differently, in this respect, with confederate States
than with the rest of the world. The necessity under
which the concession was made to the States of the
South is obvious from the fact, that it is denied to all
others ; for a slave escaping into New York, for in
stance, from a foreign country, is as free as if he were

THE WESTERN WORLD. Ill

on British ground. If it is urged that, in England,
a slave escaped from her own colonies became free ; it
is replied, that there is a great difference between deal
ing with dependent Colonies and independent confe
derate States. Each State has the right to regulate
for itself the mode in which, when a runaway slave is
claimed, the point of ownership shall be decided. In
New York the magistrates have power to decide ; in
Vermont, the question of slave or no slave is one for
a jury. When a slave voluntarily accompanies his
master into a free State, the ownership of the latter is
protected for a given time by the laws of the State.
In New York the time is nine months.

The Americans remind us, in the next place, that
they are not responsible for the origin of slavery
amongst them. It is on the British government that
they throw the heavy charge of having first planted it
in the Colonies. They do not say that, in all cases,
the system was entailed upon them against the wishes,
openly expressed, of the colonists themselves. In any
case in which this was done, no one can deny the sole
responsibility of the mother country for the origin of
the institution. But in the vast majority of cases, the
colonists were not unwilling parties to its introduction
amongst them. In all these cases, the mother country
stood only in the position of a particeps criminis. But
the Americans contend that, in either case, whether a
sole or divided responsibility rests with the British
government, it ill becomes the British people to be
their accusers. This looks very plausible, until it is
considered with what it is that they are accused. The
continuance, and not the origin, of slavery is the stain
on the Republic, which elicits here the surprise of some,
the regret of others, and the condemnation of all.
Even were the British government exclusively respon-

112 THE WESTERN WORLD.

sible for the origin of the evil, by no perversity of
reasoning can it be charged with its continuance.
"What have the Americans done towards its removal,
during the seventy years of their independence ? A
great deal, it is true ; but have they done as much as
they might have done, or as the world reasonably
expected of them ? All honour to the North for the
example which it has so nobly set to the southern sec
tion of the Republic. But in according it the merit
which is its due, it must not be forgotten that eman
cipation in the North was a matter of comparatively
easy attainment. In the South the difficulties in the
way are of appalling magnitude. But whilst the North
has done everything, has the South done anything? It
is by the decision of this question that justice is to be
meted out to the South ; and even those most leniently
disposed are forced to regard the decision as unfavour
able to it. The difficulties in the way may be a
sufficient answer to the impracticable demands of the
Abolitionists, but they are no answer to the great bulk of
the anti-slavery party, who would urge the South into
a career of gradual abolition. Besides, delay on the
part of the South in moving, warrants a doubt as to
the sincerity of its intentions; for the difficulties, which
are now great, are fast becoming insuperable. The
steps which have latterly been taken by some of the
slave' States, have been rather of a retrograde than of a
progressive character; steps which nothing can justify,
not even the conduct of the more indiscreet partizans
of abolition. The States which have thus moved in
the wrong direction, have incurred a double guilt ; and
it is on them and on the States which have refused
to move at all that the concentrated odium of the
world should fall.

In reply, again, to those on this side of the Atlantic,

THE WESTERN WORLD. 113

who are really, or who only affect to be, outraged that
slavery is not instantaneously abolished in the Union,
the Americans, without justifying the inertness of
some of the slave States, simply plead the difficulties
of their position. This is a plea to the cry for imme
diate abolition, which is not generally allowed that
weight with us to which it is justly entitled. If we
say that we made a successful effort, and that they
might do the same if they were really in earnest; they
reply, that the circumstances of the two cases are alto
gether different. We dealt summarily with a slight
complaint ; they have to deal cautiously with an ag
gravated disorder. With us, slavery was a mere local
ailment, affecting some of the extremities of the em
pire ; with them it is a fever which pervades the entire
system, which is in its blood, and is preying upon its
vitals. When their political and social institutions
were first taken into their own hands, as an indepen
dent people, they were already stricken with this
moral leprosy, which yet adheres to them — a blasting
and a withering curse. Such as were least impregnated
with the disease have since been cured ; others are
advancing, by slow processes, towards convalescency,
whilst others have apparently resigned themselves to
the malady which may yet overpower and destroy them.
But at once to root out slavery from the southern
States is as hopeless as it would be to attempt to cure
the fevered patient in a breath.

We take a degree of credit too for what we have
done in the way of emancipation, which the Ameri
cans are not willing to accord us. When they com
pare the means with the end, they hold that our
achievement was not so very wonderful after all.
What was the evil to be cured ? The servitude of a

114 THE WESTERN WORLD.

comparatively small number of negroes in a few dis
tant islands. "What were the means of curing it?
The resources of a great and wealthy empire, to the
whole of which, the parts affected bore but a very
slender proportion. And what were the interests to
be affected? Those of a few planters, who constituted
the merest fraction of the entire population. All this
must be reversed to get at the true state of the case
in America. Instead of a remote and petty difficulty,
take a great evil existing in our very midst, as slavery
does in the United States, interweaving itself with the
political and social institutions of one half of the
Republic. Instead of remedial resources, immense and
boundless as compared with the evil to be removed,
take means, utterly inadequate to the object to be
attained ; and instead of a few fractional interests to
be affected, take those, as in each of the southern
States, of the entire community. These are the points
of divergence, which show the two cases to be anything
but parallel. And if fifteen years have scarcely yet
passed since the whole philanthropy of the British
empire was able to overcome a petty interest, and to
extirpate a petty disorder; when, they ask, would it
have been equal to the task, had the result been to
affect the general interests of the country, by the sud
den subversion of an institution, existing for centuries
at home — forming part and parcel of our political
scheme, and entering even into our domestic arrange
ments — constituting, in short, one half of all our pro
perty, and having the value of the other half depend
ent upon its continuance? These are the circum
stances in which we must conceive ourselves to be
placed, if we would fully understand the difficulties in
the way of emancipation in America. Slavery might

THE WESTERN WORLD. 115

yet have been the law even of the northern States,
had they had one tithe of these difficulties to encoun
ter. In these, as with us, slavery was the exception —
in the southern States it is the rule. Let those, then,
who here cry shame upon them for not immediately
liberating their slaves, bear in mind that their libera
tion would affect the vested interests of a whole com
munity — that it would divest most of that community
of fully one half of their property, and some, indeed,
of all ; for, particularly in the low rice-growing dis
tricts on the Atlantic sea-board, alluded to in the pre
vious chapter, when speaking of the configuration of
that part of the continent, property would be of no
value whatever, were there no slaves to cultivate it.
This does not remove or even extenuate the moral
guilt of slavery, but it accounts for the indisposition
manifested towards immediate abolition. It would be
a truly sublime spectacle to see a whole community
impoverish itself in vindication of a great principle ;
but how old will be even the Christian era before such
a spectacle is exhibited ? I use the word " impoverish,"
because it is an illusion to dream of compensation in
America. The number of slaves to be liberated is
already upwards of three millions, the compensation
for whom, at the same rate as that at which we com
pensated the planters, would exceed two hundred
millions sterling!

Some of the writers of the present day, who are
too enamoured of their own mawkish sentimentalities
to make any question the subject of patient and
practical inquiry, are constantly taunting the United
States with the inconsistency which they allege to
exist between their practice and their professions, as
contained in the Declaration of Independence. That

116 THE WESTERN WORLD.

document proclaims that " all men are created equal,"
and, therefore, it is urged, it behoved the United
States to have swept away all the inequalities of con
dition which they found existing at the date of their
independence. But all that consistency demands is
that, as fast as possible, without endangering the
general interests, they should establish a coincidence
between their practice and their professions. Are
men to be prohibited from laying down a great prin
ciple because they cannot at once carry it into effect;
or are they to be permitted to lay it down, and work
up to it with all practicable speed ? I have no desire
to shelter such of the States as have acted, and are
still acting, in direct contradiction to the principles
on which they established their independence ; but
let justice be done to such as faithfully adhered to
them, and embodied them in their subsequent legis
lation. The principle of the Declaration is as inimical
to inequalities of condition between the members of
the white race, as it is to the continuance of a dis
tinction, in any of the States, between the white and
black races. The property qualification, as a provi
sion of the electoral law, was a violation of that
principle. And yet it was only from time to time
that the different States deemed it expedient to get
rid of that qualification, and to establish "universal
suffrage in its stead. But who, before this was done,
ever heard the Declaration of Independence quoted
in favour of the unenfranchised white man ? Between
the white man so circumstanced, and the negro slave,
the difference is one of degree, not principle. If the
continuance, for a time, of the property qualification
was not inconsistent with that document, neither is
that of slavery for a time, when it is more inevitable than

THE "WESTERN WORLD. 117

voluntary. I admit that the Americans were bound,
by the principle of their Declaration, to remove all
civil and political disabilities pressing upon the white
man, as speedily as possible, consistently with the
interests of the country; and that they are now
bound to do the same, as fast as they safely can, with
regard to the blacks. But I deny that that principle
demands the immediate emancipation of the latter,
any more than it did the immediate enfranchisement
of those, who were previously disqualified, amongst the
former. Strange to say, many of those who taunt the
Americans with their inconsistency, as regards the
negroes, deplore the consistency with which they have
acted up to their principle, in reference to the whites.
The foregoing will suffice to convey, however im
perfectly, some idea, at least, of the present bearing
and position of the whole question of slavery, both
as regards the conflict of parties respecting it in the
United States, and the merits of the issue which it
raises between the Republic and the rest of the world.
Greatly as the majority of the American people
deplore the imputations which it entails upon them,
and the scandal which it casts upon free institutions,
their anxieties are chiefly concentrated upon its
probable effect on the destinies of the Republic. It
raises a political problem, which no American can
contemplate with indifference, and in reference to
which few dare even to hazard a solution. Ever since
the formation of the Union, it has been its chief and
constant difficulty, giving rise to jealousies and dis
quietudes, which have, more than once, perilled its
existence. Increasing, as the evil now is, both in
strength and magnitude, the future becomes more
lowering, if not more uncertain, every hour.

118 THE WESTERN WORLD.

For many years back, aside of all other party
questions, a struggle has been constantly maintained
to keep up the balance of power between the free and
slave States. This was comparatively easy, so long
as the one interest could keep pace with the other,
in the admission of new States into the Union. But
when this, as it is about to do, ceases to be the case,
how can the equipoise be preserved ?

The Union is now composed of thirty different
States, fifteen of which are free, and fifteen slave-
holding. For some years back, new States have been
introduced in couples, so as to preserve the established
equilibrium. When Michigan was introduced as a
free, Arkansas came in as a slave, State ; Iowa was a
free set-off to Florida,' as a slave-holding acquisition ;
whilst Wisconsin was balanced against Texas. With
the exception of the American portion of Oregon,
there is now no available territory in the north, out
of which free States may be created, to counterbalance
the many slave States which may be carved out of the
immense regions which are regarded as open for
acquisition in the South. So long as both parties
could play at State-making against each other, the
crisis of the Slavery question was indefinitely post
poned. But this game is about to cease, and the
whole subject is now assuming an aspect of gravity,
such as it has never before worn. Passing events are
rapidly magnifying the difficulty ; and the free com
munities are beginning seriously to consider the
course which they should adopt, in the event of
certain contingencies. A large accession of territory
in the south-west will be a certain result of the
Mexican war.* If slavery is to be extended over this
* California and New Mexico have since been annexed.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 119

new territory, the northern States must follow one
of these courses : — they must seize the British pro
vinces, dissolve the Union, or resign themselves to
the predominance of the slave-holding interest in the
councils of the nation. The first of these can hardly
enter seriously into their calculations ; to the last
they will not submit. The question, then, seems to
lie between a dissolution of the Union, and the ex
emption from slavery of the newly-acquired territory.
But what will the South say to this alternative? With
a group of free States already on her northern border,
she would regard with apprehension the formation of
another such group upon her western flank. Both
parties have thus vital interests at stake ; the South,
her domestic institutions ; and the North, her just share
of influence in the legislation of the Union. What com
promise can be effected between interests so irrecon
cilable ? The feeling in the North against the further
extension of slavery is ahead}?- almost strong enough
to urge its inhabitants, if necessary, to the establish
ment of a free commonwealth of their own. No one
who has had the opportunity of canvassing the
opinions of the North on this point, can shut his eyes
to the fact, that it is fast reconciling itself to the
idea of such a change in its destiny. It is being
disgusted at the slow progress which is being made
towards emancipation by some of the slave States,
and the retrograde policy of others ; and has long-
been annoyed at its reputed partnership in the guilt
of those, over whom it has in reality no control ; and
in the questionable advantages of whose guilt it has
no participation. In addition to this, the material
interests of the North are more or less implicated
in the question. It is now liable to be involved in all
the evils, expense included, of having to quell a

120 THE WESTERN WORLD.

servile insurrection, should such break out. As
slavery extends its area, and otherwise increases its
strength, the chances of outbreaks are multiplied.
The integrity of the Union is one of the prime
objects of an American's political affections. It is a
sentiment from which no question but that of slavery
can divorce him; and that question is now fast
approaching the crisis, which, it has long been fore
seen, will be the great test of the strength of the
constitutional fabric. If the North could see its way
through the difficulty without separation, it would
indignantly discard the idea of dissolution. It is
because they do not thus see their way, that the best
and most patriotic of its inhabitants are now begin
ning to regard as probable, that which they have
longed wished were impossible. How will the ques
tion terminate ? Will the North yield ? Will the
South yield ? Will they meet each other's views,
and both yield ? In such case what will be the com
promise ? Let him, who can, answer these questions.

It would be a singular, yet a fitting retribution, if
the war, which the present administration so unjus
tifiably provoked with Mexico, should result in the
disintegration of the Union.

It would baffle, I trust, the most determined effort
at misinterpretation, to put a wrong construction upon
the foregoing, either as regards the object sought to
be attained by it, or the spirit in which it has been
conceived. The object has been to represent things
as they really are, to give a true picture of a veritable
case, and to divest a great question, on which the
judgment of the world should alone be exercised, of
the false colouring which ignorance and prejudice
have given it. The spirit in which this object has
been pursued, is that of justice ; justice to the guilty

THE WESTERN WORLD. 121

as well as to the innocent. If I have pointed out
those whom censure should spare, I have also desig
nated those on whom it should unreservedly fall. In
doing this, I have adverted to the position and views
of parties in regard to slavery in America ; explained
the legal and constitutional question with which they
have to deal ; pointed out those who alone have the
power to interfere, and those who are interdicted
from interfering ; described what has already been
done, and what still remains to be done ; exposed the
difficulties of the question, which constitute the
defence of the South only against the zealots at
home, and the philanthropists abroad, who would
urge her to instantaneous abolition ; and alluded, in
conclusion, to the growing importance of the ques
tion, as one affecting the entire country, and involving
the most serious political consequences to the Union.
Having done so, Heave the reader to his own deduc
tions ; confident, however, that he will acknowledge
the injustice of involving the whole people, for the
faults of a section, in indiscriminate censure, and see
that the Northern States are no more responsible for
the social and political vices of the South, than the
Canton of Berne is for the religious intolerance of
Fribourg, or the Germanic Confederation for the
vagaries of the Court of Bavaria.*

* Since the publication of the first edition, the Slavery question
has assumed a still more threatening aspect in the United States.
In the President's message there is no allusion whatever to the
subject, but it cannot fail to occupy largely the attention of Congress
during the present session. The temper in which the subject will
be approached and discussed, was manifested by that in which the
recent contest for the Speakership was carried on. The struggle was
not so much for the Chair of the House, as a demonstration of
the intention of parties in reference to this subject. So intense is the
feeling which it has excited that, so far, old party ties have been
VOL. II. G

122 THE WESTERN WORLD.

disregarded, and a Whig majority in the House has, by its own
dissensions\on this point, suffered itself to be defeated by a demo
cratic minority, one of whom now occupies the Chair. The recent
annexation of California and New Mexico to the republic, has
given a new impetus to the question ; the battle between parties
being now waged on what is known as the Wilmot proviso, which
if carried will prohibit ,the introduction of Slavery into any of the
new territories now belonging to, or hereafter to be acquired by
the republic. To this the South is determinedly opposed, knowing,
as it does, that the whole institution of Slavery will be weakened the
moment a limit is put to its territorial extension. There are parties
•who, as usual, propose a compromise; but it is difficult to see
what compromise is now possible. The time seems to have at
length come, when the one party or the other must go to the wall ;
or, both parties adhering obstinately to their principles, the Union
must be dissolved. The compromise proposed by the South, is to
divide the newly acquired territory, by a line running to the
Pacific, about the 36° parallel of latitude ; the territory north of
which is to be free, and that south of it, liable to the extension of
Slavery over it. So far as the recent acquisition is concerned, the
proposed line would pretty equally divide it between the contending
interests; but every American feels convinced that the still fur
ther territorial spoliation of Mexico is a mere question of time.
Should such a line as is proposed be once established, and Slavery
instituted to the south of it, the North could not, when new territory
was acquired from Mexico, very well step over this line, and insist
on such territory being declared free. The South would contend,
and with some show of justice, that the intention of the line was to
separate the realms of Slavery and Freedom, so that neither could in
future invade the other without its consent. Such an arrangement,
therefore, would only be, on the part of the North, an abandonment of
all future acquisitions to the slave-holding interest ; unless the British
provinces were included in those acquisitions. To this the North is
fully alive, and it is difficult to see how it can assent to the
establishment of the line proposed. It is equally difficult to see
how the South can tolerate any other adjustment of the question.
Such is the present position of parties — a position fraught with con
siderable peril to the Union. The recent declaration of California
in favour of freedom, has tended still further to complicate the
question ; but notwithstanding this, it is possible that the ingenuity
and patriotism of the leading statesmen at Washington may yet
devise some mode of attaining a peaceable solution to this long
vexed and dangerous question.

CHAPTER V.

SLAVERY,— IN ITS SOCIAL, MORAL, AND ECONOMICAL
ASPECT.

Condition of the Slaves in America. — Domestic and predial Slaves. —
Mild type assumed by Slavery in Virginia. — Eesults of this. —
Slavery in the Cotton-growing States. — Its severity. — Social and
Political position of the Slaves. — Their indirect Influence on the
Eepresentation.— Slaves let out on Hire. — Destination of their
Earnings. — Vanity of the Blacks. — Their inordinate Passion for
Dress. — Intellectual and Moral Darkness of the Slave. — Eeligious
Frenzies. — Negro Cunning and Deceit. — His Lighfr-heartedness.
— Effects of Slavery upon Society in America. — Degradation of
Labour in the South. — Effects of this as regards the White Race. —
Moral Influence of Slavery. — If Slavery be disadvantageous, why
is it not got rid of] — Difficulties in the way. — The Antipathy of
Race. — Its important bearing on the question of Emancipation. —
A War of Races inevitable. — The Catastrophe now only postponed.
— Results of the Conflict, when it arises. — Economical Demerits of
Slavery. — Proofs of these. — Experience and prospects of Virginia
in this respect. — Anxiety of the South to extend the area of
Slavery. — Effect of Emancipation on the price of raw Cotton. —
Conclusion.

HAVING disposed of the question of Slavery in its
political aspect, I now proceed to consider it in its
social, moral, and economical bearings.

In dealing with the subject in its social and moral
phase, it may be as well, first, to advert to the actual
condition of the slaves themselves, and then glance at
the general effects of the institution upon the society
in the midst of which it exists.

As is always the case where slavery is to be found,
the slaves in the United States are divided into two
classes, domestic and predial ; and the institution par-
G 2

124 THE WESTERN WORLD.

takes of its milder or more relentless features, accord
ing to the predominance of the one or the other of these
classes in a State. Taking the slaves States through
out, the predial slaves vastly outnumber those who
are held to domestic bondage ; and it is this great
predominance of predial servitude that gives its ge
neral character to the institution of slavery in America.
The proportion between the two classes of slaves greatly
varies in the different States. In Georgia, Alabama,
and Mississippi, the vast majority are held to field
and out-door work ; whilst in Virginia and Kentucky,
the numbers of the two classes are more nearly
equalized. In Virginia particularly, the class of
domestic slaves is very numerous, as is also the case
in Maryland ; although in the latter, the slaves en
gaged in field labour bear a greater proportion to
those in merely domestic servitude than in the
former.

It is naturally to be expected that, in those States
in which the number of domestic slaves is greatest, in
proportion to the whole number held in bondage, the
system should develop itself in its mildest form. This
is preeminently so in Virginia ; and if the stranger
penetrates no further into the slave States, he is very
apt to regard slavery with less abhorrence than he
might formerly have entertained for it. The prin
ciple is equally objectionable under whatever form it
exhibits itself; but if there is anything in the prac
tical working of the system calculated to reconcile
one in the least degree to its principle, it will be
found in the mild aspect which it has assumed in
Virginia. There is this in favour of domestic slavery,
that the master and bondman are less frequently
separated than the predial slave is from his owner.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 125

The agricultural slave is, in innumerable instances,
frequently transferred from master to master, the
object of each being to extract from him as much
work as possible ; whilst domestic slaves frequently
remain for generations on the same property, and in
subjection to the same family. Even when the out
door slave continues for life in the same ownership,
it is but seldom that he comes in contact with his
master, and when he does so, it is only when the
master himself undertakes the duty of the overseer,
to whose merciless superintendence slaves of his class
are generally entrusted. The case is different, how
ever, in Virginia, where the parties frequently con
tinue for life in the relation of master and servant,
and are coming constantly in personal contact with
each other. A mutual attachment is thus engendered
between them ; and instead of grinding oppression on
the one side, and smothered hate on the other, kindly
sympathies spring up, and the humanity of the master
is rewarded by the love of the dependent. I have
frequently witnessed the length to which this attach-'
menton both sides may be carried, so as to render
the tie between the parties indissoluble, the master
refusing on any consideration to part with the slave,
and the slave refusing, under every circumstance, to
quit his master ; turning a deaf ear, as the latter
does, in numerous instances, to the Abolitionists, who,
when they find him in a free State with his master,
endeavour to seduce him from his allegiance. Slaves
of this class generally live under the same roof as the
family whom they serve, and amongst the different
members of which they are, as already noticed, fre
quently apportioned. They are well clothed and well
fed ; and the labour which they undergo is, in amount,
far inferior, generally speaking, to that to which do-

126 THE WESTERN WORLD.

mestic servants in England are subjected. When seen
only in this aspect, slavery appears to he more a theo
retical than a practical infliction. If the sentiment
of freedom be not dead within the slave, he has much
in the unstinted store of physical comforts which
surround him, to repay him for the deprivation of
abstract liberty. The possession of the abstract idea
is all that the free labourer of Europe has to recom
mend a condition, which in most cases is, in every
thing else, inferior to the condition of the domestic
class of American bondmen.

But unfortunately, this is not the only side which
slavery has to exhibit. It appears in its true light,
in its real character, in all its revolting atrocities, in
the cotton-growing States. Whatever hideousness
may be imparted to it by severity of toil and brutality
of treatment, it there assumes without a mask. Badly
housed, and not unfrequently scantily fed, the wretched
slaves are driven, morning after morning, in hordes
to the fields, where they labour till night-fall beneath
a burning sun, and under the eyes and the lashes of
superintendents, against whom they dare not, how
ever well founded, prefer a complaint. To the un
feeling severity which characterises the servitude of
these States, there are, in the conduct of many
planters, very honourable exceptions. It is natural
for an American, even when loud in his condemnation
of the system at home, to gloss over, in his converse
with mankind, its worst features, for his country's
sake ; but the candour of every American citizen who
has travelled in the South will bear me out in the
assertion, that, in the practical working of slavery in
the cotton-growing districts, humanity is the excep
tion, and brutality the rule. It is unnecessary to
dwell any longer upon this, or to specify the horrors

THE WESTERN WORLD. 127

which I myself have witnessed, and which would only
be counterparts to the frightful catalogue, at the
recital of which the better feelings of our nature have
already so often revolted.

The slaves in America have their determinate place
in the social scheme ; and yet it seems to savour of
anomaly to speak of their social standing. They have
few social, and no political, privileges, whatever con
sideration is attached to them, of the one kind or the
other, having a reference more to the interests of their
owners than of themselves. A slave is protected by
law in life and limb, but more with a view to the pro
tection of his master's property than to the secure
enjoyment of his own " inalienable rights." In few
of the slave States can a white man be criminally
convicted, on the testimony of slaves. There may be
reasons why, in a state of society like that which the
South presents, objection might be taken to a slave's
credibility as a witness; but no polity can justify a
sweeping objection to his competency as one. One
shudders to think of the number of crimes of every
intensity of dye, which may, and which do, go un
punished for want of white testimony, wherewith to
inculpate the guilty party. There is a necessity for
making some distinction, else the lives and the repu
tation of the whites would, in many cases, be sworn
away out of sheer revenge ; but it is one of the curses
of the system, that it can only prevent one evil by
resorting to another ; that it can only protect the
whites, by the infliction of another monstrous injustice
upon the blacks. Whatever may be the advantages
of the political weight which the Constitution attaches
to the slaves, they are not permitted to share them.
It is for the benefit of the free race, one way or
another, that they are noticed in that document.

128 THE WESTERN WORLD.

And when they are so, it is not by the term " slaves,"
but by the periphrase, "persons held to labour or
service." The framers of the Constitution were either
very confident or very sentimental. Looking forward to
the speedy extirpation of slavery, they would not sully
the federal charter by including the word in the text
of any of its paragraphs. Until all were free, they
deemed it advisable to call slavery by another name.
Had they been framing the Constitution to-day, in
stead of about the close of last century, their senti
mentality might be quite as great, but their hopes
would scarcely be as strong. In apportioning the
representation in the Lower House of Congress
amongst the different States, the extent of the popu
lation in each is taken as the basis of the apportion
ment. In the slave States, the extent of the popu
lation is ascertained by adding to the whole number
of free persons three-fifths of all the slaves ; and ac
cording to the number thus ascertained, is the extent
of the representation of each slave State in Congress.
It is scarcely necessary, however, to say that, although
the slaves enter largely into the scheme, they have no
share whatever in the reality of representation. The
result is, that the free citizen in the slave States is
doubly represented ; in the first place, personally, like
his fellow-citizen in the north, and in the next, by
virtue of three-fifths of his property. But if this
arrangement has its advantages it has also its draw
backs, as all direct taxes are to be apportioned on the
same principle as the representation. I know of no
direct tax, however, which the general Government
now levies.

A state of servitude implies an incapacity to hold
or to acquire property. The slave, being himself the
property of his master, draws legally after him, into

THE WESTERN WORLD. 129

Ins master's possession, everything which might else
appertain to himself. Not only can he, strictly
speaking, earn nothing for himself, but he is also
incapable of becoming the recipient, to his own
benefit, of a pure donation. In few countries, how
ever, where slavery exists, is the law, in this respect,
rigidly carried out. It certainly, as a general rule,
is not so in the United States. It is true that the
master sometimes avails himself of the absolute pro
perty which he thus has in the slave, and in all that
he can produce, when he himself is not in need of his
labour, to let him out on hire to others, confiscating
his earnings to his own uses. This is a practice
which extensively prevails in the District of Columbia,
particularly in Washington. The hotel at which I
took up my quarters in that city, was provided with
none but black servants, — all slaves, who, with some
few exceptions, were on hire. They came to duty at
a certain hour in the morning, many of them return
ing home at a particular hour at night to their
respective owners. By eight o'clock at night all
slaves must be housed ; and any found abroad after
that hour, without being able to give a proper expla
nation, are liable to be challenged by any one, and
brought before the authorities. This curfew law is
not confined to the District of Columbia. But it
not unfrequently happens that, to encourage them,
their owners only appropriate to themselves the earn
ings of a certain number of hours per day, or of
days per week, leaving the remainder at their own
disposal.

It is customary, too, particularly for those who em
ploy their own slaves in handicraft operations, to give
them a set daily task, and to pay them for any extra

G3

130 THE WESTERN WOULD.

work over and above that thus apportioned to them.
Lord though he be of all his bondman's energies, the
master finds this system work to his advantage, as it
stimulates to the accomplishment of a thorough day's
work one who would otherwise scarcely exert himself
to the extent of half his powers. In one of the
tobacco factories, at Richmond, I saw a tail, athletic
man at work under the influence of this stimulus.
He was married ; had already purchased his wife's
freedom, and was then labouring for the means of
acquiring his own. His expertness and activity were
extraordinary, sometimes earning for him, by extra
work, no less than ten dollars a week. They certainly
do not all make so good a use of the means which
they thus and otherwise procure, strange though it
may appear, their vanity being, in most cases, an
overmatch for their discretion. This weakness with
them exhibits itself principally in dress. Talk of a
Bond-street dandy ! he is nothing to a full-blown
negro in Washington or Philadelphia on a holiday.
There is something intensely ludicrous in his cox
combry, as, with gloved hands, flaunting frills, an
enormous display of spotless linen about his sable
cheeks, and with a dress of superfine broad cloth,
evidently of the latest cut, he goes stalking along,
switching his cane, and indifferent to the ridicule he
excites — as vain as a turkey, and as gaudy as a sun
flower. This passion for dress exhibits itself, if
possible, with tenfold intensity amongst the females.
Often have I walked, on a hot summer day, in the
streets of the capital, behind a mass of faultless
muslins and other "stuffs," which enter into the com
position of ladies' attire, neatly arranged over a form
well rounded and graceful; and on turning partly

THE WESTERN WORLD. 131

round to steal a glance at the exquisite face, which
my imagination had pictured as necessarily forming
part and parcel of this otherwise attractive exterior,
been startled at encountering the rolling eye, flat nose,
and thick protruding lips of a stalwart negress, as
black as if the sun of Guinea had shone upon her but
the day before. This inordinate passion for dress
develops itself in the whole race, free or bond. Of
course, such as are free have the greatest opportunities
of gratifying it ; and the mode in which it is gratified
enters not a little into the coup-d'asil of Pennsylvania-
avenue, Chestnut-street, and Broadway.

If the physical necessities of the slave are, in nu
merous cases, well cared for, his intellectual arid
moral wants are, in almost all, most culpably ne
glected. Servitude cannot long co-exist with intel
ligence ; and to keep the slave from the path of
freedom it is necessary to deprive him of those moral
lights by which his steps might be directed into it.
This is a conviction which largely influences the
policy of the South, and which has, in most of the
slave States, raised a legislative barrier against every
effort to enlighten the mental and moral darkness of
the negro. The domestic slaves may, as individuals,
but certainly not as a class, present exceptions to
the unrelieved stolidity and ignorance which charac
terise the race ; for it is seldom that the education
even of a household slave, transcends the line of his
daily duties. It is almost impossible to conceive the
utter intellectual vacuity to which the predial slave
is doomed ; his deprivation, in many cases, extending
even to those elementary religious teachings which
are of such moment even to the meanest of mankind.
It is not usual to find things carried to this culpable

132 THE WESTERN WOULD.

extent in the towns, where the slaves are more in the
habit of meeting each other than they are upon iso
lated country estates, and where fewer impediments
are successfully thrown in the way of religion and
humanity. In the towns you sometimes find them
well provided with churches, but rarely with schools ;
the children being indebted to the Sunday-school
for such education as they receive, both secular and
religious, which is in general, in neither case, of a
very sterling quality. They have their own preach
ers, and generally attach themselves to the more en
thusiastic and fanatical sects. I have found them
Presbyterians, Baptists, Methodists, and Latter-Day
Saints, but never Episcopalians. A black priest in
lawn sleeves would bring scandal on the Episcopal
body. Except in times of religious excitement,
when the most disgusting scenes are enacted, and the
most frantic and blasphemous ravings are uttered in
their conventicles, under the supposed influence of the
Spirit, their worship is conducted with tolerable order
and decorum, although it is not always practicable to
suppress the smile to which the extraordinary fancies
of the preacher will give rise. In times of revival
they sometimes become roused into a state of uncon
trollable frenzy, when they neglect their duties, and
become troublesome and unmanageable. It was in
allusion to this that a Virginian very naively once
said to me, that "it was the greatest misfortune that
could happen to them to have a nigger turn Christian."
The mind denied a proper and healthful develop
ment is apt to take refuge in deformity. Where
there is soil there is production. Weeds spring up
where a growth, useful or ornamental, is not che
rished. Thus it is that the mind of the slave,

THE WESTERN "WORLD. 133

deprived by law of all proper instruction, becomes
strongly impregnated with cunning and deceit. These ,
with falsehood, are the only weapons which he pos
sesses, with which to avenge himself on his oppressor.
It is seldom, except when a mutual attachment hap
pens to exist between them, that the master and the
slave have any confidence in each other; the one
commands, the other obeys through fear. The
moral obliquity which usually characterises the slave,
is common, to some extent, to the free negroes of the
North. Although politically free, the latter are far
from being on a footing of social equality with the
white race, towards whom they more or less demean
themselves as do the slaves towards their masters.
Although some in the free States profess to be partial
to negro servants, the great majority, sooner than
have anything to do with them, submit to the
humours and caprices of servants of their own race.

Notwithstanding the weight with which oppres
sion bears upon them, and the cruelties to which they
are subjected, the negroes in America exhibit a light-
heartedness which is surprising. To the great bulk
of them freedom is a hopeless aspiration ; the very
desire for it is systematically subdued in their breasts ;
and they are happy if their physical wants are sup
plied, and they are not overtasked with labour.
Having no future to live for, they make the present
as merry as possible. Of singing and dancing they
are inordinately fond, propensities in which policy
dictates that they should be encouraged rather
than interfered with. The banjo, a sort of rude
guitar, is their chief instrumental accompaniment ;
whilst in dancing, proficiency with them seems to
consist in making an elaborate use of the heel. Their

134 THE WESTERN WORLD.

voices are generally good and well trained by them
selves ; their airs are simple and frequently touchingly
plaintive. It is amusing to witness the zest with which
on a summer-evening, after the work of the day is over,
they will thus enjoy themselves in groups — some sing
ing, some playing on instruments, jabbering,grinning,
and frantically gesticulating at the same time, and
others dancing with an earnestness which would lead
one to the belief that they considered it the main
business of life. But all this playfulness of disposi
tion is sometimes only a mask used to conceal a burn
ing thirst for vengeance, which is sometimes gratified
under circumstances of the most dreadful atrocity.

Slavery, considered in connexion with the influ
ence which it exercises upon society, develops in
America all the vicious tendencies with which it has
ever been characterised. Whether its consequences,
in this respect, are considered in an economical or a
social point of view, they are found to be equally
prejudicial.

In many particulars society in the South differs
materially from the manifestation of it which is found
in the North. In the latter, activity takes the place of
refinement; in the former, refinement takes the place
of activity. As there is no want of refinement in the
North, so there is no absolute want of activity in the
South ; but the one is characteristic of northern
society, as the other is of that of the south ; and in
this one particular of refinement alone is the result
of slavery on southern society in the least degree
favourable. For this one benefit it sacrifices to slavery
every other advantage. I have elsewhere shown how
the superior refinement of southern manners is di
rectly attributable, in part, to the existence of slavery.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 135

The activity which pervades the North is greatly to be
attributed to its absence, making every man feel the
necessity of self-reliance, and driving men to do that
properly for themselves, which forced labour would
do but sluggishly and imperfectly for them.

It is not an absolute torpor which has fallen upon
the European race in the South. There is no reason
why their energies should be greatly inferior to those of
their northern fellow-countrymen, nor am I aware that
they are ; the difference is in this, that their respec
tive energies are directed into different channels.
The southerner very often prosecutes his amusements
as actively as the northerner engages in sterner occu
pations. But the reason why the activity of the
North is so much more visible than that of the South,
aside of the fact that it is a more numerous commu
nity, all being employed,is, that whilst the southerner's
energies are generally devoted to pursuits which
leave little or no trace behind them, those of the
northern citizen are applied to objects which both
take and perpetuate the impress of industry.

For all truly industrial purposes, the energies of
the white race in the South might be as well utterly
extinguished. They have a triple reason for abstaining
from labour, unknown in the rest of the Union. They
have, in the first place, an enervating climate as com
pared with that of the northern States ; in the next,
they are surrounded with hordes of human beings,
who are fed and clothed for the sole purpose of work
ing for them ; and in the next, which is the most
powerful reason of all, labour is considered degrading
and dishonourable. In the North the very opposite
feeling obtains. There is no class there exempt from
work; and a perfectly idle man, particularly if a young

136 THE WESTERN WOULD.

man, gets rather into discredit than otherwise. Where
all are employed, none can consider it a degradation tobe
so ; and such is the eager pursuit of material well-being
in the North, that there are few who can work as
much as they would like to do. But in the South,
where there is an aristocracy of idleness, few whites have
the courage to descend to the level of labour. When
to this is added the aristocracy of race, which, when
the two races meet, really seems to have its founda
tion in nature itself, and when the inferior and de
graded race is alone the labouring one, the descent is
still greater, being not only that from a wealthy and
an idle to an industrious class, but also to an identi
fication with a race in every way debased, and who
are treated as if it was their highest privilege to
labour for their masters. This much at least the South
owes to slavery, that the white man, however needy,
cannot work for his bread without putting himself,
in a social point of view, on a level with the slave.

Nowhere can the unfortunate result of this be
better traced than in Virginia. Since the abolition
of the law of primogeniture, the large estates, which
were once so numerous in that State, have in many
instances gradually dwindled away, the descendants
of those who once possessed them retaining all the
pride, but without any of the means of their ances
tors. Many of these, reduced to want, have pre
ferred subsisting on the bounty of their friends to
working for a livelihood. Others, more manly and
independent, have betaken themselves to honest em
ployments, but to seek them have quitted their native
State, and gone where, by their own industry, they
could push their own fortunes without being de
graded by so doing. This is one reason why, whilst

THE WESTERN WOULD. 1-37

the population of the northern and western States is
so rapidly on the increase, the white population of
Virginia has recently actually receded. But the
numbers who are being gradually driven to employ
ment in Virginia are now so great as to necessitate an
effort to rescue labour from its present disrepute. In
this the Virginians are aided by the energetic whites,
who emigrate to their State from the north ; and who,
finding a wide field for their enterprise, where the
labour of the slave is the only competition which they
encounter, disregard all local prejudices, and set the
Virginians an example which many of them are glad
to follow.

An important branch of the subject is that connected
with the moral influence of slavery. Where has this
ever been favourable ? The difference between the
morals of the North and South is great, and great in
proportion as slavery in the latter partakes of its more
unmitigated features. Making every allowance for
the difference of climate, that cannot of itself explain
the phenomenon. It is only under a system, which
promotes a laxity of habits, blunts the moral percep
tions, engenders leisure, and fosters pride, that could
arise those quick resentments, that morbid sensitive
ness, that false sense of honour, that proneness to
quarrel, and that indifference to human life, which so
broadly distinguish genuine society in the South from
the Anglo-Saxon type which it has preserved in the
North. There is something unfavourable to the de
velopment of the better feelings of our nature, when
the mind becomes reconciled to a monstrous violation
of the laws of nature. A Southerner's reconciliation
to the injustice of slavery dates from his very infancy.
It is thus that, in the moral race, he does not get a
fair start with those whose perceptions are not thus

138 THE WESTERN WOULD.

early beclouded. It is singular to witness the indif
ference with which all parties in the South come to
regard slavery, with all its accompaniments. I once
heard a lady thus accost a negro boy, in one of the
back streets of Washington: " I want a boy, but the
Doctor asks too much for you." In other words, she
had been engaged in a negotiation with his then owner,
for the purchase of this very boy, and spoke of the
matter with as much sang froid as an English woman
would of the purchase of a cabbage at Co vent
Garden.

But if slavery be thus socially, morally, and, as will
be presently seen, economically, a disadvantage, why,
it will be asked, do not the people of the South
get rid of it ? Having already adverted, in general
terms, to the difficulties which stand in the way, let
me here briefly allude more particularly to the nature
of some of them.

I must here again remind the reader that, in the
North, where slavery has been abolished, it never
attained the colossal magnitude into which it has ex
panded in the South. When, therefore, it was found
in the former to be more prejudicial than advantage
ous even to material progress, it was easily discarded.
The same conviction as to its worse than inutility has
long since dawned upon the South, but its extirpation
there would now almost seem to be impossible. Even
were it otherwise practicable, the magnitude of the
interests to be affected by it would be an almost
insuperable barrier in its way; but the chief ob
stacle must be elsewhere sought for. The reader may
be surprised, but that obstacle is to be found in the
antipathy of race.

It is scarcely possible for a European who has not
witnessed it, to appreciate the intensity of this feeling

THE WESTERN WORLD. 139

on the part of the white race in America. They will
amalgamate with the Indians, and are frequently
proud of the aboriginal blood in their veins ; but
merely as partners in licentiousness will they have any
converse with the negroes. Under no circumstances
can the negro attain in America an equal social
position with the dominant race. It matters not
what proportion of white blood he may have in his
veins, if he bears about him any signs — and they are
ineradicable for generations — of an African origin, he
is kept aloof as if his touch were leprosy. Bond or
free, his fate is the same. Indeed, so far from his
manumission bettering his condition, in this respect
it only renders it worse. So long as he is a slave, the
master may, when he pleases, treat him as an equal,
because he can at any moment place him again at an
infinite distance. But when the two are put in a
condition of political equality, the white is chary
of admitting him to a social position of which it might
not be so easy to divest him. Thus the privileges of
the free black are more nominal than real, whilst
their very possession places the dominant race in more
hopeless antagonism with him than before. It is all
very well for us in Europe to philosophise upon the
nature of man, and to urge that man is man, what
ever be the colour of his skin or the cast of his features.
There are feelings which can neither be reasoned
with nor overcome, and the antipathy in question is
one of them. It has always existed, and is likely
ever to exist in the breast of the white man, and is
most active where the two races come most in con
tact. This forbids their ever mingling together and
fusing into one mixed race ; and it is because they must
thus remain two separate races that emancipation is
to the South surrounded with so many perils.

140 THE WESTERN WORLD.

It may be asked, Why did not all this operate to the
prevention of emancipation in the North ? Simply
because, although there was the same objection in
kind, there was not the same in degree. In New
York, for instance, the slave population was never
numerous, and the free blacks scarcely now amount
to two per cent, of the whole population. This great
predominance of the white race removed all the fears,
which might otherwise have existed, as to the evil
consequences of emancipation. It did not permit the
blacks to approach any nearer the whites, but it ob
viously made them powerless for mischief. The pre
cepts of religion, the dictates of morality, and the
interests of the State, then, all concurring to urge
upon it a policy which could be adopted without
hazard, the abolition of slavery was as necessary as it
was easy of attainment. Very different, however, is
the case with the South, in some of the States of which
the negroes form sixty per cent, of the entire popula
tion. Under these circumstances, is it likely that the
existence of two free, but isolated and alien races
on the same territory would be compatible with the
security of either? So long as they co-exist in peace
in their present numbers on the continent, must they
co-exist in their present relations. They cannot
exist together the equals of each other. One or the
other must dominate. This being so, can it be ex
pected that the now dominant race will consent even
to run the risk of exchanging places with the subject
one? That they would incur this risk by eman
cipation is obvious. The blacks once free, would
they depart ? Why should they ? How could they ?
Whither would they go ? How long would two free
races thus situated, refusing to commingle in any of
the relations of social life, remain in harmony on the

THE WESTERN WORLD, 141

same soil ? Not long, even if the blacks had no past
wrongs to avenge.

The great question then for the South is, What is
to be done with the blacks in the event of manumis
sion ? It is because it cannot solve this question that
it cannot decide upon emancipation. And what does
it gain by delay ? Only the postponement of the
catastrophe, which must inevitably occur. Whether
the negroes are set at liberty, or remain enchained, the
war of races is an event in the certain future. The
result will not be long doubtful. With their superior
skill, their discipline, their knowledge, and their
wealth, the European race in the Southern States
alone will prove an overmatch for the African. But
with the aid of the whole North, on which they
reckon with confidence in such an event, the contest
is not likely, come when it may, to be of long con
tinuance. And that aid will be given, even should
the ties of the Union have been previously sundered ;
for in nothing are the American people more deter
mined than this, that no black community shall, for
and by themselves, occupy any portion of the North
American continent.

This inevitable contest will be postponed until it is
precipitated by the blacks themselves. Until it is so,
they will be kept in bondage, and the more numerous
and powerful they become, the more tightly will their
chains be drawn around them. There can be little
doubt but that their ultimate fate will be that of ex
pulsion from the continent. But what untold miseries
on all sides will be the prelude to such a consummation!*

* The war of races, here foreshadowed, has actually commenced
since the above was written. To the provision of the Constitution
recently adopted by it, excluding slavery from California, has been

142 THE WESTERN WORLD.

This is the true position of the South. Let an
Englishman fancy himself in a similar one, not self-
placed, but born in it, and inextricably entangled
in its meshes, if he would judge impartially in the
case. Let him do this, and learn to temper the
severity of his judgment with sympathy for those
who, by the faults of their ancestors, have been placed
in so painful, so perplexing, so frightful a position.

I have taken it for granted, in what has preceded,
that slavery is disadvantageous, even in an economical
point of view. At this time of day it is scarcely ne
cessary to enter into an elaborate argument in proof
of this. It may be as well, however, here just to
allude to the principal points which bear upon this
part of the question in America.

It was not until slavery had been for some time
established in the South that it extended itself to the
North at all, and its extension in that direction was
more the result of example than of any necessity
which was felt for it. "Whilst it was yet confined to
the South, the northern colonies had evinced an apti
tude for improvement, which those of the South could
not exhibit. Yet the European race in the South
was sprung as recently and directly from the common
Anglo-Saxon stock as was that in the North. To the
dependence upon the forced labour of others, to which

appended a rider, prohibiting also the entrance of free blacks into
the territory. This is an event of greater significance than has
hitherto been attached to it, as indicative of the ineradicable
antipathy existing between the two races. It is fraught with the
greatest warnings to the subject race. An event of similar import,
but on a smaller scale, has also recently occurred in Canada. A
proposal was made to found a small black settlement, in the back
woods, — a proposal which has not only been objected to, but scouted
almost universally throughout the province.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 143

their climate, particularly in the more southern districts,
to some extent invited them, is chiefly to be attributed
the striking difference which manifested itself in the
development of the northern and southern colonies.
Before they had actual proof of the inutility and posi
tive disadvantage of slavery, the northern colonists
had experienced the benefits of self-reliance and per
sonal activity. In naturalising slavery amongst them
they brought the two systems into immediate compe
tition ; and that it was not long before the result of
the experiment was decided in favour of free labour
is evident from the fact, that in none of the northern
colonies did slavery ever attain any footing beyond
that of an exceptional institution. The superiority
of free labour once demonstrated, the extension of
slavery was necessarily checked. Unfortunately for
the South, it witnessed the experiment only from a
distance ; it never actually tested for itself the re
spective merits of free labour and servitude. It was
thus that the latter, having no competitor in the
field, expanded with a rapidity which, by degrees,
left the South no alternative but to let it take its
course.

But it was not solely by keeping slavery within a
narrow compass that the North recorded its verdict in
favour of free labour. By its entire abolition they
also testified to the world their conviction as to the
merits of slavery. When it was at its greatest height
in the North, the effect of slavery upon the free
labour system which prevailed was scarcely percep
tible. In tracing, therefore, from the very first, the
career of the two groups of colonies, we are in fact
sitting in judgment upon the conflicting pretensions
of the two systems of labour. And if material pro-

144 THE WESTERN WORLD.

gress is to be the turning point of our decision, the
evidence of superiority is all on one side. The
colonies of the North, although the last founded, were
constantly in advance of those in the South ; demon-
atrating by their rapid increase, both in population
and wealth, the economical superiority of their pre
vailing system. And what may thus be said of them
as colonies is also true of them as independent States^!
The inertness of the South affords to this day a painful
contrast to the cheerful activity of the North. The
one merely subsists ; the other both subsists and accu
mulates. If we would be eyewitnesses of that energy
and enterprise which so distinguish the American
character, it is in the North chiefly that we must look
for it.

The sources of wealth are pretty equally distri
buted over the continent. The South has its full
share of them as regards soil, and vegetable and
mineral products. Why does it not turn them to
that profit to which all these advantages are converted
in the North ? The plea of climate has only a partial
relevancy. It may disincline, but it does not incapa
citate to work. The northern immigrant into the
southern States proves by his conduct the justness
of this distinction. He works for himself, and what
is there to prevent the southerner from doing the same?
Simply, the difference in his character, superinduced
by a difference in institutions. The northerner,
brought up in a rugged school, becomes imbued with
the ideas and ingrained with the habits of self-de
pendence, and carries with him the energies of his
character, whithersoever his adventurous disposition
may lead him. The southerner, on the other hand,
bred in the lap of ease and luxury, becomes impatient

THE WESTERN WORLD. 145

of enterprise, and recoils from exertion. Even the
chief mining and manufacturing operations in the
South are carried on by northern enterprise and
capital. Tried then by the best of all tests, that of
its actual results, what room is there for attributing
any economical advantages to slavery ? If any one
entertains a doubt upon the subject, let him contrast
the condition of New York and Pennsylvania with
that of Maryland and Virginia ; that of Ohio with
that of Kentucky ; that of Indiana or Illinois with
that of Tennesee. Between some of these there are
only imaginary boundary lines, between others only
the channel of a river intervenes. Their striking dif
ference of condition can only be traced to their great
difference in institutions ; and some of them are ad
mirably situated for making the comparison. There
is very little difference as to climate, soil, or produc
tions between Ohio and Western Virginia, which
abuts upon it ; or between Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois,
and the State of Kentucky, which bounds them to
the south, the Ohio river alone dividing them. So
forcible indeed is the inference to be deduced from all
this, that it has long since pressed itself upon the
convictions of the South. But the curse which rests
upon this section of the Union is, that what its in
terest, in one sense, urges it to dispense with, its in
terest, in another, seemingly necessitates it to retain.

In saying that the climate of the South does not
incapacitate the European from working, exception
must be taken as regards the low and swampy coast
districts of the Carolina?, Georgia, Alabama, and
Louisiana, in which, as already observed, no white
person, during certain portions of the year, can safely
remain. There can be no doubt that free labour,

VOL. II. H

146 THE WESTERN WORLD.

if it could be steadily applied even to these districts,
would render them more profitable than they now
are. But how to do this is the difficulty. The
white man cannot labour there. But if the black
man can as a slave, why not also as a freeman?
Simply because few free blacks, having their choice
of locality, would remain there. Though not so fatal
to the African as to the European, there is no doubt
but that these pestilential regions are fraught with
danger and death to both. Withdraw coercion from
those by whose labour they are cultivated, and they
would become depopulated. This shows the stake
which the possessors of land in these districts have in
the continuance of slavery. To them it is a question
of property or no property, and their influence is, of
course, regardless of ultimate consequences, steadily
exerted for the perpetuation of servitude. This
has a greater effect upon the whole question of
abolition than at first appears. The slave States
being all more or less dependent upon the same
staple productions, slavery could not well be abo
lished in some without being abolished in all. For
some time at least, such cotton-growing States as
resorted to free labour could not compete with those
which still adhered to the system of slavery. Its
abolition, therefore, in some of the slave States,
would, as its immediate consequence, only stimu
late its extension in others. Even were there no
other obstacles in the way, this would of itself be
almost an insuperable one, owing to the difficulty
which would be experienced in getting the whole of
the slave States to move together in the direction of
abolition.

Independently of all comparison between the free

THE WESTERN WORLD. 147

and the slave States, some of the latter have abun
dant proof, in the working of the system itself, of the;
utter inutility of slavery. To no state is this now
more apparent than to Virginia, which enjoys the
unenviable notoriety of being the chief slave-breeding
State. In general, slaves are now valued in Virginia
at what they are likely to bring in the market, and
this their market value is the chief object for which
they are "raised." When all the States in the Union
shall have prohibited the further importation of
slaves into their territories from any of the adjoining
States, the slaves in Virginia will be a positive bur
den upon the State, and regarded in the light of so
much unsaleable stock. The extension of slavery to
the newly acquired territory of Texas has enlarged
the demand for slaves and protracted their export
from this and other States. Should the regions
ceded by Mexico share the fate of Texas in this
respect, the time will be still further postponed ere
slavery becomes an intolerable burden to Virginia.
But that time will come, when those in whom she
now traffics will accumulate upon her hands and eat
up her substance.

It may be asked why, if slavery is regarded by all
parties as fraught with such danger to the Republic,
the South is so anxious to extend it ? It is so, be
cause it desires to retain its political influence in the
Union. Should the North secure a decided ascend
ancy, the South might be ere long involved in ruin
and confusion, by a forcible attack upon her institu
tions. It is to prevent the possibility of this, that
she is constantly striving to extend her political
influence by extending the area of slavery. True to
the failings of our common humanity, she is in this
H 2

148 THE WESTERN WORLD.

avoiding an immediate danger at the risk of adding
to her ultimate difficulties.

But, in addition to those of the slave States, there
are other interests, which are deeply concerned in
the merits of slavery in an economical point of view.
But little of the great staple product of the South is
converted at home into fabrics of any kind. The
raw cotton, which is the chief product of slave labour,
finds its way into the markets of the world, Old and
New England taking together about seven-tenths of
the whole. It may be urged, that as the manufacturing
interest, both here, on the continent, and in America,
are deeply interested in low-priced cotton, the aboli
tion of slavery, by raising the price of the raw mate
rial, would be greatly injurious to them. This
objection would have some weight, but for the con
sideration that it would equally affect the manufac
turers everywhere. If the price of the raw material
rose, the remedy would be in their own hands, which
they would apply in the shape of an enhanced price
for their goods. All being equally affected, none
could undersell the other more than at present, and
the manufactures of Europe and America would
meet in neutral markets, upon the same terms as
now. The consumers would be the chief sufferers,
and it would be from diminished consumption
that the manufacturers everywhere would feel the
effect of the change. But this, were it to happen,
would not last long, as the production of cotton
would be stimulated elsewhere, to an extent which
would soon reduce prices to their former level. All
this, however, is based upon the assumption that the
application of free labour to the growth of cotton in
America would materially enhance its price. My

THE WESTERN WORLD. 149

conviction is that this would not be so. It is cer
tainly reasonable to suppose that that which is the
product of labour which is paid for, would be dearer
than that produced by labour which is not paid for.
But the mistake in this case is in taking it for
granted that slave labour is not paid for. Let us
compare the present process of producing cotton with
that under a system of free labour. To meet a given
demand, the South raises a given quantity of cotton.
To do this she keeps a certain number of labourers,
each of whom, on an average, does but half a man's
work. They are cheaply fed, and cheaply clothed, it
is true ; but then they are fed and clothed, and
housed during life, at their owner's expense ; in
cluding the time when they are incapable from
infancy to work, and disabled from so doing by old
age. The consideration, then, for the labour of the
slave is his " keep ;" both in infancy and age, when
he cannot work, and during his maturity, when he
only gives per day half a day's work to his owner.
Then again, it is not always during maturity that
he can be kept at work, inasmuch as there is not
always work for him to do. But he is still on his mas
ter's hands a never ceasing expense. Now what is the
case with free labour? It is sought for, and paid for,
only when required. It is the employer's own fault
if he will pay a man for his work, who does not give
him in return a full day's work for his money. Thus
the hired labourer, in consideration of his reward,
gives the work of two slaves in a given time ; so that
in estimating the cost of the two kinds of labour, we
must place against his wages the keep of two slaves
from their birth to their death, and at all seasons of
the year. By which of the two systems is it likely that

150 THE WESTERN WORLD.

the. whole cotton required could be the more cheaply
raised ? It might require more ready capital on the
part of the South to raise it by means of free labour,
but it would be found by far the cheaper process in
the end. One hired labourer, receiving his daily
wages only whilst at work, would take the place of
every two slaves, who are now kept the whole year
round, during the whole course of their lives. The
fears, then, connected with a permanent rise in the
price of raw cotton would seem to be groundless.

In the face of all this, the continuance of slavery
can only be accounted for on the grounds already
adverted to. And in dismissing the whole subject
let me remind the reader that the peculiar position
of the Southern States is this, that they are afflicted
with an evil which they fear to attempt the removal
of ; an evil already grown beyond their control, and
increasing in magnitude every hour ; an evil of which
nothing but a social convulsion can rid them ; which
when it comes, as it assuredly will, may give rise
to a political disposition of the continent as yet
undreamt of.

CHAPTER VI.

FROM RICHMOND TO CHARLESTON.

Railway Bridge over the James. — Appearance of Kickmond from
it.— A Mormon Preacher. — An Incident. — Petersburg. — Weldon.
—The Frontier.— The sad fate of an old Widow Lady.— Storm
on the Rail. — Its Consequences. — Singular formations in clay,
observable along the Embankments and Excavations. — A Youth
ful Couple. — An unexpected Impediment. — Aspect of the country
from Weldon to Raleigh. — Position of North Carolina in the
Confederacy. — The Gold Region.— Raleigh. — Aspect of the coun
try from Raleigh to Wilmington. — The Sea-coast Region. — The
"Dismal Swamp." — Wilmington. — Dangerous Coast of North
Carolina. — Cape Hatteras. — Shipwrecks. — Romantic Incident. —
Journey by Steamer from Wilmington to Charleston. — Coast of
South Carolina. — Entrance into the Harbour of Charleston. —
Fancied Resemblance between Charleston and New York.

THE long chain of railway commencing at Boston,
and continuing, almost without interruption, south
ward to Richmond, crosses the James River at the
latter city on its way to Carolina and Georgia. The
portion of the railway which runs through Virginia,
intersects the State by a line running almost due
north and south, beginning at the Aquia Creek, on
the Potomac, and terminating at Weldon, on the
border of North Carolina. This link of the great
chain is about 160 miles in length, the city of Rich
mond lying about midway between its extremities.
From Weldon it pursues its way across the State
of North Carolina to Wilmington, where it abuts
upon the Atlantic, the journey from Wilmington to
Charleston being performed by steamboat.

I left Richmond by the early train for Weldon.
The railway is carried over the rapids of the James

152 THE WESTERN WOULD .

by means of a stupendous wooden bridge, erected at
a great height above the water upon a number of
lofty stone piers, the bases of which are washed by
the foaming rapids. There is no balustrade or railing
on either side ; and it is not without some little appre
hension that the traveller, as he crosses it, looks
down upon the water lashed far beneath him into
foam, and into which the least freak of the engine
might in a moment precipitate the whole train.

The appearance of Richmond from the bridge is
very imposing. Occupying the precipitous bank
from which you are receding, almost every house of
which the town is composed is visible from this point
of sight ; its upper portion looking particularly attrac
tive, from the quantity of foliage intermingling with
the dazzling white walls of its isolated mansions and
villas. Behind, a dark belt of forest sweeps round
the horizon ; whilst in the foreground the merry
river glances from rock to rock, and straggles amongst
islets clothed in the richest verdure. Brief time
however, has the tourist for this charming sight, the
different features of which he has scarcely recognised
ere he is whisked amid dense woods and clayey exca
vations, which in a twinkling shut the whole from his
view.

The car in which I sat was but partially filled, and
it was soon whispered about me, that amongst those
who occupied it was a Mormon preacher, although he
could not be precisely identified.

" He'll be game, if we can only git him out," said
a passenger behind me to his companion.

" If there's such a fish on board, I'll hook him,"
added the other; who thereupon commenced, in a
voice audible throughout the whole car, denouncing

THE WESTERN WORLD. 153

as a swindler and vagabond Joe Smith, the Mormon
prophet. I watched for some time to see on whom
this produced the expected effect, and had just come
to the conclusion that no such party was on board,
when I was startled by a deep groan, proceeding from
a rather stalwart looking man, who sat directly on
my left, and whose face was now covered by his
hands. I rose almost involuntarily and took the
seat opposite, which luckily was vacant. All eyes
were now turned upon him who had given such un
equivocal evidence of a troubled spirit, and who sat
swinging himself to and fro, his face still buried in his
hands, groaning as if from the innermost recesses of
his soul.

" I reckon you're out of sorts," said he whose words
had conjured up this extraordinary manifestation.
" You'll be better, p'r'aps, of a drain," he continued,
bending over him, and offering him a small flask.

" A vaunt, Satan!" he exclaimed, and then burst
into an impassioned prayer, in which he called down
every conceivable species of denunciation upon those
who were wilfully blind, and ignored the accredited
prophets of God. Luckily there were no ladies
present, or there might have been a scene. As it
was, there was considerable confusion, the whole
affair giving great scandal to those who regarded it as
bringing things solemn into contempt. But there
was a general cry of " Hear him out ! " which prevail
ing, gave him undisputed possession of the floor. In
a few minutes he rose and began to speak. It was
then that, for the first time, I got a full sight of his
features. In vain did I look for that fire in the eye
which betokens fanaticism, or that rapid and nervous
change of expression which so often characterises the
H3

154 THE WESTERN WORLD.

enthusiastic zealot. His frame was large, his face
full, his whole expression stolid, his eye dull and
changeless, with far more cunning than inspiration in
it. He was more like one pursuing a speculation
than expounding a cherished faith, having all the
appearance of one who was engaged in a swindle, and
knew it.

His name was Hyde, and it appeared from his own
showing that he was deeply in the confidence of the
great Mormon apostle Smith. He was then on a
very extensive proselytising tour, which commenced
with the State of Illinois. He told us that in travel
ing alone over the " broad prairies" of that State on
his holy mission, he lay down one evening in the
grass, his stockings wet with blood, and his whole
frame utterly exhausted. Whilst in this state the
heavens opened, and he saw — but I will not follow
him upon forbidden ground. Suffice it to say, that
what Stephen witnessed was nothing to the revela
tions made to Mr. Hyde. His mission was then con
firmed, and he was commanded to go forth and convert
the whole earth. He had since been engaged in that
trivial task. On being asked how he had succeeded
so far, he said that he had met with considerable suc
cess in some of the western parts of Canada, but that
the love of this world was far too strong in the pre
sent generation to leave them accessible to the truth.
A part of the Mormon doctrine is that of association
and community of goods, each convert being required
to dispose of his all, and repair to the New Jerusalem
with the proceeds, which are to be disposed of with
out any of those reservations which called down such
heavy vengeance on Ananias and Sapphira. This
was the point at which he found most of his converts

THE WESTERN WORLD. 155

falter, their enthusiasm appearing daily to increase
until the proposal was made to them to sell their
property for the benefit of the common fund, when
they suddenly became as refractory as the young man
with great possessions mentioned in Scripture. He
then proceeded to denounce the living generation as
one hopelessly rooted in unbelief, and prophesied the
end of the world in ten months. The events which
were to happen in the intermediate time were all
contained in a prophetic handbill, of which he had
some hundreds in his possession, and which he in
formed us were for sale at two cents a-piece. This
was, after all, the moral of his preaching ; I followed
the example of others, and bought one, on perusing
which I found that the least evil that was to
happen to poor humanity between that and the en
suing May was, that a very great proportion of those
alive were to fare as did Herod the tetrarch, and be
eaten up by worms. The managers of the society at
Nauvoo,"* the New Jerusalem, were about to start a
newspaper, for which he was authorized to procure sub
scriptions, on terms of paying for one year in advance.

" Why on airth take subscriptions fora year if this
here univarsal world is to come up all of a heap in
ten months?" asked a Yankee, in the furthest corner
of the car.

" P'r'aps he'll let it go on for the year," suggested
another beside him.

"If he don't, you can get part of your money
back, the day after it's all up," said another ; and a
general laugh arose at the awkward turn which the
matter had taken for the prophet, who now stood

* The Mormons have since been driven west of the Rocky
Mountains.

156 THE WESTERN WORLD.

scowling and discomfited, without well knowing what
to say. To what length the scene would have gone
it is difficult to say, had it not been here put an end
to by our arrival at Petersburg, after a little more
than an hour's ride from Richmond.

The town of Petersburg, though far inland, is
nevertheless a seaport, being situated upon the
Appomattox, about twelve miles above City Point,
where it falls into the James. At the junction of the
two streams is in reality the harbour common to
Richmond and Petersburg, few sea-going craft as
cending either river above City Point. The rapids
of the Appomattox afford Petersburg a water-power,
of which it has to some extent availed itself by turn
ing it to the purposes of manufacture. Our stay
here was but short, and we pursued our way after
wards, with but little interruption, until our arrival
at Weldon. The aspect of that portion of Virginia
traversed by the line between Richmond and Weldon
is very similar to that of the district through which
it runs between the capital and the Potomac. It
follows, for most part, south of the James, the verge
of the higher level between the tide-water region and
the mountains, so that the traveller is brought in con
tinual contact with the peculiarities of both regions
— now passing over the undulating surface of the
chief tobacco district, where he meets every here and
there with a cotton plantation, and then penetrating
for short distances into the sea-coast district, covered
with interminable forests of pitch pine. Near the
border of North Carolina the country becomes more
uneven, picturesque, and salubrious.

Our approach to the frontier unsealed the lips of a
taciturn Carolinian who was seated beside me, and

THE WESTERN WORLD. 157

who now related for my edification the following
story, which he thought a good one. Some time ago,
on the line separating Virginia from North Carolina
being re-surveyed, it was so altered at one point as
to include a small portion of the former within the
limits of the latter State. It so happened that, at the
point where the deviation took place, there was a
marked contrast, as the line originally ran between
districts of country of very different degrees of
salubrity, that on the Virginia side being high,
undulating and salubrious, whilst that on the Caro
linian was low, swampy, and unwholesome. An
old lady, a relic of the revolutionary times, who had
enjoyed her widowhood for many years on a snug
little property on the Virginia side of the line, in
habited a commodious house, so situated on a sloping
declivity, with a southern aspect, as to command an
extensive view of the dank and sedgy region which
lay immediately beyond the border. Her ideas
ranged but little beyond the prospect which was
visible from her windows, and one of her chief incen
tives to gratitude was, that her fate had cast her in
Virginia, and not in North Carolina. Great then
was her horror on discovering one day, that by the
swerving of the boundary line, she herself, her house,
and the whole of her property, were included in the
latter State. Her complaints were bitter at having
been thus transferred to the unhealthy country, and
she made up her mind that, for the rest of her days,
there was nothing in store for her but fevers, agues,
rheumatisms, and catarrhs. So impressed was she
with the idea that the change had exposed her to
unwholesome influences from which she had formerly
been exempt, that she made up her mind, although

158 THE WESTERN WORLD.

with great reluctance, to part with her property, and
retreat into Virginia, in the sanitary virtues of which
she had every confidence. It is held that the appre
hension of a malady sometimes superinduces it.
However this may be, the old lady in question soon
afterwards fell a victim to fever and ague, con
vinced to the last that she had been sacrificed to a
geographical innovation, and that, had her property
continued as formerly in Virginia, her fate would have
been very different.

We stayed but a few minutes at Weldon, a small
border town, on the Roanoke, and possessing no
feature of interest to the stranger. We had pene
trated but a short distance into North Carolina, ere
we were overtaken by one of the terrific thunder
storms so common, during the hotter months, to these
latitudes. The descending deluge poured with such
violence, that in a few minutes the line was at
several points completely under water. On entering
a deep excavation, which extended for about three
miles, we were almost brought to a halt by the heavy
torrent which we encountered. The bed of the rail
way resembled that of a canal, which had broken its
banks a little beyond, and the water of which was
rushing to escape and pour itself with desolating
effect upon the adjacent fields. The torrent into
which we were thus suddenly plunged did not pro
ceed solely from the surcharged heavens, for a small
stream, which, for some distance, ran parallel to the
line and close to one side of the cutting, became so
swollen by the tempest as to break into the exca
vation, into which, at more points than one, it poured
its muddy contents in miniature cataracts. So deeply
was the line submerged by this double visitation, that

THE WESTERN WORLD. 159

the axles of the wheels were covered, as the train
slowly proceeded, groping its way, and following, at a
safe distance, enormous pieces of loose timber which
were floating before it along the rails.

The violence of these storms serves to explain what
every Englishman travelling there must have noticed
as characteristic of most railways in America. In
England, excavations and embankments soon lose the
cadaverous aspect which they first assume, by cover
ing themselves with vegetation, in the shape either of
grass or shrubbery, or by being laid out into tasteful
flower plots, as in the vicinity of many of our stations.
In America, however, they retain, for the most part,
their original unsightliness, the frequency and violence
of the summer rains preventing them from being
again covered after they are once exposed. But it is
seldom that we find nature, in her workings, deviating
from the principle of compensations. If the traveller
does not, as with us, pass rapidly over meadowy banks,
or through excavations skirted with shrubs and ever
greens, he is not left without some atonement for the
frequency with which his eye is brought in contact
with the cold repulsive clay ; for, on the embankment,
or in the cutting, he can at any time amuse himself
by observing the varied and fantastic forms into which
it has been carved and furrowed by the descending
showers. In some places the water cuts deep gashes
in it, in humble imitation of the yawning seams on
the hill-sides, which, in the highlands, mark the
courses of the mountain torrents. When this hap
pens in an excavation, a miniature delta of soft clay
is not unfrequently deposited upon the rails ; at other
points, where the volume of water acting is less and
its course more gentle, it trickles down in a multitude

160 THE WESTERN WORLD.

of tiny and devious channels, which, by "degrees, it
wears deep, leaving the projecting masses of indurated
clay to form themselves into an endless variety of
fantastic resemblances. Some of these masses, by
successive washing, become almost isolated from the
bank, when, as seen from a little distance, they look
like sculptured groups of the most grotesque images.
At other times they resolve themselves into fac-similes
of fortified towns, as they might be seen through the
little end of a telescope, with their steeples, towers,
and battlements. I was most interested in observing,
when they stood forth in boldest relief, the resem
blance which they bore to Gothic architecture in in
cipient ruin. There were the deep projections, the
lofty galleries, the stately pillar, the tenantless niches,
the pointed window, and the flying buttresses, remind
ing one more particularly of the choir of a fine old
cathedral in the first stages of its dilapidation.
Frequently have I amused myself, not only on the
railway, but also on the river and the common highway,
when circumstances admitted of it, by observing the
singular formations in clay thus designed and executed
by the summer showers.

Amongst others who joined the train at Weldon
were a young couple, who sat nearly opposite me, and
whom, for a time, I regarded as brother and sister.
In this belief I was first shaken by observing a
variety of endearments pass between them, which are
not usually indicative of the affection subsisting
between parties standing towards each other in the
relationship alluded to. I guessed therefore, and was
afterwards assured, that they were husband and wife,
being then on their way to spend all that remained
of the honeymoon with some friends in South

THE WESTERN WORLD. 161

Carolina. Their united ages could not have exceeded
thirty-five. I have often heard of early marriages in
America, but never before had so precocious an instance
fallen under my observation. To most of their fellow-
travellers they were objects of considerable interest.
They were both Virginians : the bridegroom being
tall, thin, and pale ; whilst the bride, on the other
hand, was rather short and rotund, with a round face,
a full eye, and a laughing expression, but as girlish in
her appearance and actions as her lord was boyish in
his look and demeanour. They had early saddled
themselves with the most serious responsibilities of
life, plunging into the position and duties of middle
age before they yet saw the end of their youth; and
it was not without pain that 1 thought of the cares
that would wrinkle the brow, and the sallow lines
that would furrow the cheek of the one ere he was
thirty, and the premature age which, descending upon
the other, would blight her comeliness ere she had
emerged from twenty-five. Such is the rapidity with
which age, in many cases, stamps its impress on the
form, particularly of the married woman, in most of the
southern States, that I have seen two sisters, the one
married and the other single, look like mother and
daughter, although there was not two years difference
between their ages.

We had scarcely been an hour and a half from
Weldon, when the train came suddenly to a halt in
the midst of a thick, tangled, swampy wood, from
which so dense a vapour arose that it really seemed
as if the spongy ground, in which the trees, as it were,
soaked their roots, were heated by subterranean fires.,
1 involuntarily turned my eyes upwards to ascertain if
another storm had anything to do with this additional
detention ; but the heavens, now innocent of cloud,

162 THE WESTERN WORLD.

were again swathed in the most lustrous blue. I
soon afterwards discovered that the cause of the delay
was a more vulgar one than I had at first imagined, for,
on following the example of others and jumping out
upon the line, I beheld a horse standing between the
rails, about fifty yards in advance of the engine, and
looking curiously at it, as if he recognised in it an
old acquaintance, but was not quite sure. With one
shrill tone of the whistle, the illusion vanished from
his mind, and turning round he cantered off, still,
however, retaining his position between the rails. He
had a saddle on his back, but was riderless — a cir
cumstance which gave rise to many speculations and
conjectures amongst the passengers. We followed
him slowly, and on once more making nearly up with
him, he again turned round, stood, and looked as in
tently as before, until the whistle sent him a second
time cantering along the line, from which he would
deviate neither to the right nor to the left, provokingly
keeping his place between the rails. The whistle was
at length kept constantly screeching, much to our
discomfort, but to no useful purpose, for he still kept
in advance of us, causing us, in following him, ma
terially to reduce our speed. The chase had already
lasted for about three miles, and might have continued
for the next dozen, but that we again came to a halt,
when the animal, taking a longer look than usual at
the engine, as if to satisfy himself that he had made
no mistake, was taken on his flank by the stoker, who
suddenly emerged upon him from the wood on one
side of the line, and drove him into it on the other.
A traveller by railway in America gets used to such
impediments, although it is not often that it is a
saddled horse that is the obstacle in the way.

As soon as we had resumed our speed, every one

THE WESTERN WORLD. 163

began to speculate upon the fate of the missing rider.
Little time, however, had we for conjecture on this
score, for, on turning an abrupt curve, the train was
not only once more pulled up, but actually sent back.
In a twinkling, two or three heads were to be seen
projecting from each window of every carriage, first
looking up and down the line, and then full at each
other, for an explanation of the cause of our retro
grade movement. It was soon made plain to us ; for,
on backing about three hundred yards, we came up
to the body of a man lying close to the line and
apparently lifeless. The curve in the road had pre
vented the engineer from seeing him in time to stop
the train until it had shot far past him, and he very
properly put back to ascertain if any injury had be
fallen him. He was bleeding from one of his feet ;
but on examination the blood was found to flow from
a wound of the most trivial description. He had
been lying on his face, with the foot in question so
far upon the rail, that the fore wheel of the engine
had crushed the edge of his shoe, and in so doing
produced an abrasure of the skin of the little toe.
Being in a beastly state of intoxication, he was in no
condition to throw any light upon whence he had
come, whither he was going, or how he had been
placed in so perilous a position. He was conveyed
to the nearest road-side station, where he was left to
be thankful, on recovering his senses, for his double
preservation. While this was going on, I was some
what amused at the honest indignation expressed by
some of the passengers that the wretch had not been
more seriously injured, which, had he been so, they
seemed to think would have fully compensated them
for their loss of time.

164 THE WESTERN WORLD.

There is but little to interest the traveller in the
region of North Carolina, traversed by the railway
from Weldon to Wilmington. The portion of the
road lying between the former place and Raleigh,
the capital of the State, runs through a district of
unequal fertility, the average productiveness of
which falls somewhat below that of the sea-coast or
tide-water region to the east of it, and of the rich
and exuberant valleys to the west which are em
bosomed amongst the ridges of the Allegany chain,
the loftiest peaks of which are to be found within the
limits of North Carolina. The middle region of the
State partakes much of the characteristics of the
corresponding tract in Virginia, of which it is, in fact,
a prolongation. The soil is light and sandy, but there
are numerous tracts on which cotton, tobacco, and
Indian corn, as well as wheat and barley, are culti
vated to advantage. Here and there the surface un
dulates considerably, presenting to the eye a suc
cession of gentle slopes and moderate elevations. As
might be expected, these tracts abound in pretty
situations, many of which are occupied by commodious
mansions, tenanted by the possessors of the circum
jacent plantations. Some of these are exquisitely
situated in the midst of dells clothed in the richest
vegetation, and on the margin of lively and rapid
streams, which become sluggish enough when they
descend into the broad and gloomy belt of the tide
water region. In general, however, this part of the
State is inhabited by an inferior class of proprietors,
who live in tenements of a different description, and
who seemingly permit themselves to be but little dis
turbed by the rage for material improvement which
has so completely possessed the minds and influenced

THE WESTERN WOEL1). 165

the conduct of their more northern fellow-country
men.

North Carolina, as a State, occupies no very pro
minent position in the Union. She is a member of
the Confederacy, and but little more ; playing, socially
and politically, a part far inferior to that of her more
active and ambitious sister, in whose wake she gene
rally follows, though with uncertain pace, in con
nexion with questions particularly of a commercial
bearing. In point of material development she is
immeasurably behind many of the northern States,
her coevals in the Union, and possessing material
advantages not superior to her own. But if she has
been exempt from their ambition, she certainly does
not now participate in the misfortunes with which
not a few of them have been visited. She has little
or no public debt, her exemption from which may
argue want of spirit as well as prudence, for with
advantages like those possessed by North Carolina,
her credit might have been safely and usefully pledged
to some extent, with a view to internal improvements
on a practicable and rational scale. The insolvent
States, or those bordering upon insolvency, have erred,
not in the spirit which they have manifested, but in
the extent to which they have permitted it to carry
them. A moderate infusion of their spirit into her
would do much for North Carolina ; not that she has
been absolutely supine, whilst her sister States have,
some of them, been taking strides in the direction of
prosperity, and others hurrying to temporary wreck
under its guise ; for she has executed a few works,
in the shape of canals and railways, which are useful,
so far as they go, if they do not reflect much credit
upon her enterprise. But, both in public spirit and

166 THE WESTERN WORLD.

individual energy, the North Carolinians are far
behind their active and ambitious brethren of the
North and West. The stranger has not to penetrate far
into the State ere he discerns sufficient evidence of
this.

The blight of slavery is here, if possible, even more
palpable than it is in Virginia. View it whichever
way you will, whether as a crime or as a calamity,
this institution in the United States invariably carries
with it its own retribution. However indispensable
it may be to the wealth and productiveness of some
localities, it is a present curse to the land, fraught
with a terrible prospective judgment, when we con
sider the hopelessness of its peaceful removal, and the
awful catastrophes to which it will inevitably lead.
Where activity and progress are the rule, all that is
not advancing assumes the melancholy aspect of
retrogression. North Carolina is virtually retrograd
ing. Since 1830 her population has increased but at
a very trifling ratio, which is partly to be accounted
for by the numbers who annually emigrate from her,
as from Virginia and other sea-board States, to the
Far West. Her foreign trade, which was never very
large, has also, of late years, been rapidly on the
decline, and there is now but little prospect of its
ever reviving. She still holds some rank in point of
wealth and political importance in the Confederation,
but every year is detracting from it, and throwing
her more and more into the background. She has
not only lagged behind most of the original States
amongst whom she figured, but has permitted many
of the younger members of the Union greatly to out
strip her. The latter proposition, however, will hold
good as to other sea-board States, which find it no

THE WESTERN WORLD. 167

easy matter to maintain their original position, seeing
that they are annually drained of men and money
seeking new fields of action, and opportunities of
investment, amongst the more enterprising and rising
communities of the West.

What is known as the Gold Region in the United
States,"* extending, with more or less interruption and
with diminishing richness, as far north as the St. Law
rence, manifests itself in great productiveness in the
neighbourhood of the Rappahannock, immediately
south of the Potomac. After traversing the State of
Virginia, it extends in a south-westerly direction
across North Carolina ; embracing, in its progress
further south, an angle of South Carolina, whence it
passes into Georgia and the upper portions of
Alabama. Throughout the whole of this region gold
is found, in greater or less quantity, mixed in the
form of small particles with alluvial deposits, or of
petty lumps imbedded in quartz and slate, from
which when it is washed or separated, it is generally
found to be of the purest quality. The tract thus
denoted extends in a north-easterly and south
westerly direction for nearly 700 miles, its breadth
varying much, but sometimes spreading over an area
of from seventy to a hundred miles. It runs parallel,
for the most part, with the Allegany chain, at the
very foot of which it is sometimes found to lie ; whilst
at others it embraces the spurs of the chain within
its limits. The auriferous veins which permeate it
differ much in their richness, as they do in their form
and extent ; breaking, in some places, into numerous
branches, to unite again, at no great distance, into
one broad and deep belt. North of the Potomac,

* The Gold Region in California has since been discovered.

168 THE WESTERN WORLD.

the tract is much more abundant in its production of
several of the baser metals than in that of gold, the
greatest quantities of the latter being found south of
that river. Some of the most beautiful portions of
Virginia are comprehended within it, the region
which it traverses in North Carolina being of a less
interesting character. It is in this State, however,
that it is found to be most productive ; and here, con
sequently, it is most worked. But the produce of
this auriferous tract has, as yet, in no place been
discovered to be sufficiently abundant to lead to
regular mining operations on an extensive scale.

The neighbourhood of Raleigh, the capital of the
State, which is about midway between Weldon and
Wilmington, is very beautiful. The land is high, and
swells, on all hands, into graceful undulations, co
vered with a profusion of the richest foliage. As we
sped along, the railway seemed occasionally to be lost,
for a while, amid perfumed groves and deep forest
glades, from which it would suddenly emerge upon a
series of plantations, to dive again as suddenly into
another belt of undisturbed and exuberant vegeta
tion. The day was bright and clear; and nothing could
serve to give a more pleasing variety to our journey
than these repeated transitions from wood to clearance,
from shade to sunshine. As we wound our way amid
the stately pillars of the forest, and beneath the rich
green translucent canopy which they supported over
head, it was interesting to watch the motions of the
numerous birds, which sought shelter beneath the juicy
foliage from the midday heat. Few of them had
anything like a sweet note in their little throats ;
but their gaudy plumage glistened again and again,
as, in their fluttering to and fro, they broke through

THE WESTERN WORLD. 169

the golden bars of sunshine which had struggled
into the shade. The air, too, was occasionally laden
with the delicious perfume of the magnolia grandi-
flora, whose deep green leaf and large swelling milk-
white flower render it one of the greatest ornaments
of the forest in these latitudes.

Raleigh is a small and unimposing-looking town,
situated near a river called the Neuse. It is a place
of no commercial importance whatever. The chief
building in the town is the State House, in which the
local legislature assembles once a year to deliberate
upon the affairs of the State. It is a substantial
granite building, of no very ambitious dimensions,
but with a profusion of pillars, which add much to the
lightness and elegance of its appearance. Much as Sir
Walter Raleigh had to do with the early colonization
of the South, this is the only town in America, that
I know of, bearing his name. This is singular in a
country where they are so fond of designating places
by the names of historic characters. North Carolina
set a generous example to her sister States, when she
appended to her capital a name so identified with the
reality, as well as the romance, of early American
colonization.

Proceeding southward from Raleigh, the country
rapidly changes its appearance and character. The
distinctive features of the middle district soon merge
into the monotonous and less attractive aspect of the
tide-water region. Your way is now towards the
coast, and you do not proceed far ere the clear and
lively streams become sluggish and muddy, the sur
face of the country becomes flat and uninteresting,
and the forest shade, so enticing in the uplands,
deepens into interminable gloom. As seen from an

VOL. n. I

170 THE WESTERN WORLD.

elevated position, commanding an extensive range of
it, there is nothing in nature of so melancholy an
aspect as this enormous, fertile, yet pestilential, region.
Extending for hundreds of miles along the coast, with
an average depth of from 100 to 150, miles it spreads
out in one vast, gloomy, and monotonous plain, inter
posing between the more elevated districts and the
sea. Where it is not so marshy that the land is
literally " drowned," it is generally fertile to a degree,
particularly along the margin of the rivers, which are
lined with plantations; from the poisonous miasmas
of which the whites have to fly during the autumn
months. Here and there you meet with sandy
tracts, which are in some cases barren, and in
most comparatively unproductive. Rice is largely
cultivated throughout the more marshy portions of
the region ; wheat and Indian corn being produced
in abundance in its drier parts towards the Potomac,
which give way to cotton as you approach the por
tions of it extending into the Carolinas and Georgia.
The pitch-pine with which it abounds, and which
attains here a large size, adds much to the sombreness
of its appearance, which becomes more and more
striking as you approach the more swampy districts
of the coast. Between Chesapeake Bay and Albe-
marle Sound, its more disagreeable features culminate
to a hideous point, producing, by their combination,
what is so generally known as the Dismal Swamp.
Through this baleful region runs a canal, nearly
thirty miles in length, connecting the two arms of the
sea just mentioned. Its name well indicates its cha
racter. From the soft spongy ground springs a dense
and tangled underwood, overtopped by a heavy and
luxuriant growth of juniper, cypress, cedar, and

THE WESTERN WORLD. 171

sometimes oak and sycamore, which stand at all
angles, and are frequently seen propping each other
up, so precarious is their hold of the marshy soil.
During the day-time the air is moist and relaxing ;
at night it is laden with pestilential vapours, which
war with every form of animal life but that of the
venomous reptile and the bull-frog, whose discordant
croak ceases not night or day. In passing through,
one cannot fail to be struck with the quantity of
decaying timber which he constantly sees around
him ; some prostrate, and melting, as it were, into
the semi-liquid earth ; the rest yet standing as ghastly
warnings to the still vigorous trunks around them.
At night this timber emits a pale phosphorescent
light, which, wdth the fitful and cold lustre of the
firefly, only serves to deepen the pervading gloom.
Take it in all its characteristics, and fancy cannot
picture to itself a more repulsive or desolate region.
Not that nature is here without power ; but her
powers are applied to hideous production. There is
something awful, as well as repulsive, in the scene.
It is desolation in the lap of luxuriance — it is solitude
in a funereal garb.

There are many other tracts along the coast, from
the Potomac to the Savannah, of which the Dismal
Swamp is but a specimen and a type. They differ
from the tide-water region generally, in concen
trating in themselves all its disagreeable features.
In most parts of it their characteristics are to be met
with, although in limited combination and diminished
intensity. It greatly improves on approaching the
lower falls of the rivers which designate the boundary
between it and the middle region. This, which may
be called the upper portion of the sea-coast region,
i 2

127 THE WESTERN WORLD.

and particularly in the vicinity of the streams, yields
in fertility to no other portion of the country. It is
generally well cleared, but with much forest still
remaining undisturbed. Here, during the healthy
months, residence on the larger plantations is very
agreeable, especially when a large circle of friends
and acquaintances, as is frequently the case, meet
upon them from different and distant parts of the
country. It is to the mere traveller that the region
in question is wholly destitute of attractions ; its flat,
dull, sombre, and monotonous aspect becoming inex
pressibly wearisome to him as he proceeds, mastering
one reach of it only to see another spreading out, as
it were, interminably before him.

Wilmington, which we reached in the evening, is a
small town, built on the east bank of Cape Fear
River, about twenty-five miles from the Atlantic.
It is one of the chief seaports of the State, although
vessels of a larger burden than 300 tons cannot
approach it. There is no other sea-board State so
deficient in good harbours as North Carolina. Its
whole line of coast is low and sandy, the mainland
being protected from the ocean by long isolated ridges
of sand and gravel, separated from it by narrow and
shallow straits ; whilst, in other places, long and low
sandy peninsulas run for many miles parallel to the
coast. It is but at few points that the coast can be
safely approached ; and but one or two of the many
inlets which separate the islands from the mainland
and from each other, are practicable to vessels of large
burden. Cape Hatteras, the most dangerous point
in the coasting navigation of the United States, is a
portion of the coast of North Carolina. At this
point, the coast, which, from the southernmost part

THE WESTERN WOULD. 173

of Georgia, has been trending in a north-easterly
direction, suddenly diverges more to the northward,
in which line it continues, until it is again diverted to
the north-east by the position of Long Island and
Connecticut. Cape Hatteras thus reaches far east
ward into the Atlantic, greatly influencing the direc
tion of the Gulf stream. To double it is at all
times a matter of some hazard, and most dangerous
when an easterly or north-easterly wind brings a
heavy sea in conflict with the stream. The shoals,
too, which extend far beyond it into the sea, add
greatly to its perils. No other part of the coast of
the United States could tell such dismal tales of ship
wreck as Cape Hatteras. Of late years it has been
the scene of some of the most melancholy and heart
rending disasters. Amongst these stand fatally pro
minent the wrecks of the steamers " Home" and
" Pulaski," the former bound from New York to
Charleston, and the latter from Charleston to New
York. In both cases, hundreds of human beings
met with an untimely fate.

Amongst the few saved from the wreck of the
" Home," were a lady and gentleman, who were
rescued under circumstances of a singular charac
ter. After the awful confusion of the catastrophe
was over, they both found themselves, without
being able to give an account of how they got
there, upon a small and rudely-constructed raft,
formed of a few planks and barrels. A heavy sea
was running at the time, and it was with difficulty
that they retained their hold of the crazy fabric,
which was their only safety. For the greater part
of two days and two nights were they driven about
in this perilous state, being all that time without

174 THE WESTERN WORLD.

food or drink, and afraid to change their positions,
lest they should lose their hold, or disturb the equi
librium of the raft. What added much to their
discomfort as well as to their peril* was, that the
raft was so small, that they were constantly immersed
in several inches of water, even when the sea was not
breaking over them, as it frequently did. At length,
as they were approaching the third day of their fear
ful trial, exhausted with cold and hunger, and almost
stupified by their protracted agony, their raft was
cast ashore, not far from the Cape ; and, in leaving
it, it was with difficulty that they escaped being lost
amid the surf. They had sufficient strength left to
drag themselves to the nearest habitation, where all
was done to restore them that kindness and hospi
tality could effect. On recovering, they began to
observe each other more attentively than before,
when the gentleman found that his fellow- voyager
was young, pretty, and accomplished ; she at the
same time discovering in him all that youth and
spirit could do to make a man attractive in the eyes
of the sex. It was but natural that, under the cir
cumstances, they should feel a deep interest in each
other ; and it was not long ere they began to think,
that if a marriage was ever devised in heaven, theirs
had been settled and arranged there. They were
soon convinced that nothing should sunder those
whom Providence had so singularly thrown together.
They were afterwards married, but not till the lady's
period of mourning had expired ; for the catastrophe
which resulted in her becoming a bride, had also
made her an orphan and an heiress.

Having no inducement to delay at Wilmington, I
took my passage in a steamer which was to leave

THE WESTERN WORLD. 175

that evening for Charleston. She was a large and
handsome-looking vessel, and, to all appearance,
much more seaworthy than many of her class in
America. Below the maindeck she was all cabin ;
one enormous saloon, superbly decorated, stretching
from stem to stern. Above the main she had a pro
menade deck, extending about half way forward, the
ladies' cabin being between the two. She was full of
passengers, many of whom were sound asleep in their
berths ere the steamer left the pier. For my own
part, I remained for some hours upon deck, watching
the dull flat shores of the river, the faint black out
line of which it was just possible to distinguish from
the darkness of the night, until we glided into the
open sea, which looked like a mass of liquid fire,
every wave, even to the far horizon, being brilliantly
decorated with a phosphorescent crest.

The wind was fresh, with a lively sea running, but
coming as it did several points from the north, so far
favoured us, that by early breakfast time next morning
we were off Charleston. The coast was still low, sandy,
and uninteresting, being screened, like that of North
Carolina, as well as that of Georgia beyond, by long
insular ridges, rising but a few feet above the level of
the sea. Many of these islands, particularly off the
coast of South Carolina and Georgia, produce the
finest kind of American cotton, that known as the Sea
Island cotton, and commanding a much higher price,
both on account of its fineness and its scarcity, than
that produced, in greater abundance and with less
cost and labour, in the uplands of the interior. On
entering the harbour we had to cross a bar, the
passage of which is narrow, and can only be effected
at high tide by vessels of the largest class. Many

176 THE WESTERN WORLD.

see, or affect to see, a striking resemblance between
the situation of Charleston and that of New York.
For my own part, I saw less of that resemblance
than I did of the data on which it is sometimes
fancifully built. You enter the harbour by a narrow
channel, and so you do the magnificent bay of New
York. The city stands upon a small projecting tongue
of land running southward into the harbour, as New
York does upon Manhattan Island, somewhat simi
larly situated. Nay, more ; this tongue of land has
the Cooper River on its eastern, and the Ashley River
on its western side ; its southernmost point being
laved by the confluent waters of the two; just as New
York is flanked on one side by the arm of the Sound,
known as the East River, and on the other by the
Hudson. In addition to this, its foreign and coasting
trades are concentrated upon the eastern side of the
town, the main rendezvous for shipping being on the
Cooper River, as the chief shipping business of New
York is confined to that side of it which is washed
by the East River. Furthermore, there are islands
in the harbour, some of which are fortified, and others
not, which is likewise so in the other case ; whilst its
entrance is well flanked by fortifications, as the
Narrows are defended at New York. Taking the
ground-plan of the two cities and their respective
environs, there may be many points of similarity
between them. But viewing them as the tourist
views them, there is but little about the one to remind
him of the other ; unless the recollection be suggested
by contrast, instead of by resemblance. About
Charleston, everything is low, level, and uninterest
ing ; whilst about New York all is undulating, bold,
graceful, and infinitely varied. The one is on a con-

THE WESTERN WORLD. 177

tracted and monotonous scale ; whilst the other is
cast in an expansive mould, and is replete with
striking and picturesque effects. Let not the Charles-
tonians be too fond of comparing small things with
great. There are many cities inferior, both in
appearance and position, to Charleston ; but it can
only suffer by comparison with the great emporium
of the North.

I 3

CHAPTER VII.

FROM CHARLESTON TO MILLEDGEVILLE.

Charleston — Its Plan — Its Appearance from the Bay. — Interior of
the City— Its Climate and Health. — Hotels. — A practical Joke.
— Society in Charleston. — Negroes in Charleston. — Export and
Import Trade of Charleston. — Fluctuation of its Trade.— Con
spicuous part played by South Carolina in the Politics of the Union.
— The Tariff question — Dangerous Crisis to which it led. — Mr.
Calhoun and Mr. M'Dume.— Threat of a Dissolution of the Union
— Its effect upon Congress and the Country. — Eoutefrom Charles
ton to Columbia, Augusta and Milledgeville. — Aspect of the
Country between Charleston and Columbia. — The Sand-hills. —
The " Pine-barrens." — Position and appearance of Columbia. —
Prom Charleston to Augusta. — A Countryman and a Conversation.
—The Celts and the Saxons. — The British Government. — The
Savannah. — Augusta. — Milledgeville.

LIKE most other American towns, Charleston is built
on a very regular plan. The narrow tongue of land
on which it stands is low and flat ; the streets which
run across it from the Ashley to the Cooper being
intersected at right angles by others which lie north
and south in the direction of its length. The breadth
of the site of the capital of the south, for it is the
largest city and most important seaport lying be
tween the Potomac and the Mississippi, is but little
more than a mile, the length to which it has extended
in a northerly direction being under two miles. It is
situated so low that portions of it have occasionally

THE WESTERN WOULD. 179

been inundated, when a long continuance of easterly
winds have caused an unusual accumulation of water
in the bay, and rains in the interior have swollen the
rivers which flank it on either side. The bay, which
is about six miles long, has an average width of little
more than two miles, opening upon the Atlantic
almost due east from the city. It is not so well shel
tered from easterly winds as that of Boston, to say
nothing of New York ; and during the prevalence of
gales from that quarter, the entrance to it is difficult,
vessels of large burden being almost exclusively con
fined, on entering it, to one narrow channel across the
bar at its mouth, the greatest depth of water in this
channel not exceeding seventeen feet at high tide. It
is well situated for defence, the harbour being guarded,
like that of New York, with defensive works both at
its entrance and on islands within it.

Charleston is a pleasing looking town, but by no
means a striking one. Its aspect on the bay, from
the flatness of its site, is very unimposing. It was a
hot and sultry morning when I approached ; not a
breath of air was stirring, and the waters of the bay
were as calm and unruffled as a mill-pond. Before
me lay the city baking, as it were, in the fierce sun
shine. But even then it had a cool and comfortable
look about it ; for, from the lowness of its position,
it gave one the idea of being up to the knees in
water. Like Philadelphia, it presents one front to
the harbour, which screens the rest of the city from
view ; being in this respect totally unlike Boston,
New York, or Baltimore, all which show to much
greater advantage, rising as they do in graceful undu
lations from the water.

The interior of the city is both pretty and peculiar,

180 THE WESTERN WORLD.

It is wanting in the grandeur and substantiality which
characterise the northern towns, but it has adapted
its appearance to the necessities of its position ;. its
architecture being chiefly designed to obviate the
inconveniences of its climate. A tolerably large pro
portion of it is built of brick, the bulk of the town
however being constructed of wood. The private
dwellings are almost all wooden edifices, not lofty, but
elegant, being in most cases provided with light,
airy and graceful verandas, extending in some in
stances to the roof. They are generally painted of
a dazzling white, with green Venetian blinds, the
verandas being sometimes adorned with vines, and at
others merely painted green. In the suburbs particu
larly they are embowered in foliage, with which the
spotless white of the walls forms a cool arid pleasing
contrast. Until recently, indeed, most of the streets of
Charleston were provided with trees, which gratefully
interposed between its inhabitants and the fierce heats
of mid-day. They have been lately removed, how
ever, from several of the principal streets, the corpo
ration sacrificing to some crotchet of its own that
which was both an ornament and a convenience to
the city. With the exception of the few busy tho
roughfares which it possesses, the rest of the city is
more like an extended village than a large town ; the
appearance of any one part of it, save and except
ing its profusion of verandas, very much resembling
that of the lovely little interior towns so frequently
met with in New England, Pennsylvania, and New
York.

Charleston is by no means the healthiest of places,
although many of its inhabitants would fain induce
you to think so. It is superior, however, in point of

THE WESTERN WORLD. 181

salubrity to much of the country which lies imme
diately behind it, its contiguity to the sea depriving
its atmosphere of much of the deleterious miasma
with which that of the interior is laden. Still it is a
place to which the stranger has to become well accli
mated, ere he can sojourn in it for any length of time
with safety ; and the ordeal through which he has to
pass in so acclimating himself is perilous as well as
unpleasant. Its natives and regular residents are
seldom the victims of the acute diseases which it
inflicts upon the stranger ; but judging from their
appearance, they look as if they had all once been
very ill, and were in a state of chronic convalescence.
You meet many looking prematurely old in Charles
ton, but few such as could properly be designated old
men. The best race of men produced by South Carolina
inhabit the upland country, sometimes called the
Ridge, about 150 miles back from the coast. They
are a taller, stronger, and in every respect a better
developed race than their fellow-countrymen on the
coast, vieing, in most cases, in health and proportions
with the sturdy farmer of Pennsylvania or Ohio.

Charleston not being the seat of government, its
principal buildings, with one or two exceptions, such
as two small arsenals, are of a local and commercial,
instead of a political and national character. The
City Hall and the Exchange, both ante-re volution ary
in the date of their erection, are about the finest
edifices of which it can boast. Although not strictly
of a public character, the hotels here, as elsewhere
in the United States, may be classed with the public
buildings, some of those in Charleston being on a
scale inferior to none elsewhere, even in Boston, New
York, or New Orleans. None of them have the

182 THE WESTERN WORLD.

architectural pretensions of the Astor House in New
York ; it is their vastness and excellent management
that strike the stranger with astonishment.

Having had but little rest on board the steamer the
previous night, I slept soundly in one of them the first
night ashore. How far into the morning my slumbers
would have carried me I know not, but at a pretty early
hour I was aroused by a noise which, for the few mo-
mentselapsingbetweeri deep sleep and perfect conscious
ness, I took to be the ringing of the sleigh-bells in the
streets of a Canadian town. I was soon undeceived ; the
intense heat, even at that early hour, driving all notions
of winter, sleighs, and sleigh-bells, out of my head.
But though in Carolina, there was still the jingling of
the bells to remind me of Canada. Every bell in the
house seemed to have become suddenly bewitched but
my own : and anxious to know what was the matter,
I soon made it join in the chorus. Even in the ring
ing of bells one can trace to some extent the difference
between characters ; and, for some time, I amused
myself, watching the different manifestations of temper
on the part of those who pulled them, which they
indicated. Some rung gently, as if those pulling
them shrunk from being troublesome ; others autho
ritatively, as if the ringers would be obeyed at once
and without another summons ; and others again
angrily, as if they had already been frequently pulled
in vain. Very soon all became angry, some waxing
into a towering passion ; for although all might ring,
all could not possibly be answered at once. I had
brief time to notice these things ere the waiters were
heard hurrying up and down stairs, and along the
lengthy wooden lobbies which echoed to their foot
steps. Things now appeared to be getting serious,

THE WESTERN WORLD. 183

and jumping out of bed I opened my door just as a
troop of black fellows were hurrying past, each with a
bucket of water in his hand. I immediately inferred
that the house was on fire ; and as American houses
generally, on such occasions, go off like gun-cotton, I
sprung back into my room, with a view to partly
dressing myself and making my escape. A universal
cry for " Boots," however, mingled with every variety
of imprecation on that functionary's head, from the
simple ejaculation to the elaborate prayer, soon con
vinced me that the case was less urgent than I had
supposed ; and, on further investigation, it turned
out that the unusual hubbub had been created by
some one playing overnight the old and clumsy trick
of changing the boots before they were taken from
the bedroom doors to be cleaned, so that, on being
replaced in the morning, each guest was provided
with his neighbour's instead of his own. I had lain
down, the happy possessor of a pair of Wellingtons,
which, in the morning, I found converted into un
sightly highlows. Other transformations as complete
and as awkward took place, the dandy finding at his
door the brogues of a clodhopper from the North
west, who was attempting, next door, with a grin,
to squeeze his toes into his indignant neighbour's
patent leather boots. After some search my Welling
ton's were discovered in another hall, standing at a
lady's door, whose shoes had been placed before that
of a Texan volunteer, on his way to Mexico and
glory. It was not the good fortune of all so readily
to recover their property, the majority of the guests
having to breakfast in slippers, during which the
unreclaimed boots and shoes were collected together
in the great hall, each man afterwards selecting, as

184 THE WESTERN WORLD.

he best could, his own property from the heap. Until
the nature of the joke was discovered, the poor Boots
had a narrow escape of his life ; and it was amusing to
witness the chuckle of the black waiters, as, on dis
covering the trick, they quietly returned, with their
unemptied buckets, to their respective posts.

It would be difficult to find in the United States or
elsewhere a more agreeable or hospitable people than
those of Charleston. They have neither the pre
tension of the Bostonian, nor the frigid bearing which
the Philadelphian at first assumes, about them, being
characterised by a frankness and urbanity of manner
which at once prepossess the stranger in their favour,
whilst they put him completely at his ease. This
delightful phase of Charleston society is much to be
attributed to its constant intercourse with the interior;
South Carolina, in its social characteristics, bearing a
close resemblance to Maryland and Virginia.

The traveller, as he proceeds South from Phila
delphia, finds the proportion borne by the negroes to
the whole population increasing in each successive
town which he enters. But in no place north of it
are they so numerous, compared with the whites, as
in Charleston. In 1840, they constituted a little
more than half its entire population. Charleston has
many peculiarities to remind the stranger of its lati
tude, but none so striking or so constantly before his
eyes, as the swarms of negroes whom he meets. They
are everywhere, in the capacity of domestic servants
within and of labourers out of doors, about the
wharves and shipping, and in the streets, toiling,
singing or whistling and grimacing. The practice of
letting them out to hire is very prevalent in Charles
ton, many people making comfortable incomes in this

THE WESTERN WORLD. 185

way out of the labour of their slaves, as horse-dealers
sometimes do out of that of their cattle.

In a commercial point of view, Charleston is a place
of great importance. Not only is nearly the whole
export trade of the State centred in it, but much of
the foreign trade of North Carolina is indirectly con
ducted through it. The same may be said of some
portion of the export trade of Georgia, being thus a
serious competitor to Savannah, the chief port of entry
of that State, and lying a little more than one hun
dred miles to the south of Charleston. It is mainly
as a place of export that Charleston figures amongst
the chief seaports of the union. Cotton is, of course,
its principal article of export, of which South Carolina
is a larger producer than any other Atlantic State.
In addition to this, as already intimated, Charleston is
advantageously situated as a place of export for large
sections of the contiguous States. The greatest
quantity of raw cotton exported, either for home
consumption or to foreign countries, from the Atlantic
coast, is from the port of Charleston.

But although the great outlet for the staple pro
duce of the southern Atlantic States, it is not
equally favourably situated as a place of import.
The population immediately around it is compara
tively scanty, and increases but slowly, when we
consider the rate at which it multiplies elsewhere
in the Union ; besides, not more than one-half of
the entire population of the districts contiguous to
it are consumers of the chief articles of import, the
slaves being exclusively fed upon home-grown pro
duce, and now almost exclusively clothed in home
made Osnaburghs — a coarse cotton fabric, manufac
tured to a great extent in the South, and so cheap

186 THE WESTERN WORLD.

that not only is it impossible for the foreign manu
facturer to compete with it, but it also defies com
petition from New England, whose coarse fabrics suc
cessfully compete in the other American markets with
our own. Charleston having thus no great interior
demand to supply, imports but little as compared
with the amount of its exports. The dense and more
rapidly increasing populations still further west are
chiefly supplied by their own ports on the Mexican
Gulf, such as Mobile and New Orleans. They are
thus independent of Charleston, which is only called
upon to supply South Carolina, and portions of the
two adjoining States. And even of these it has not
the exclusive supply, for much of the foreign con
sumption, both of Georgia and the two Carolinas, is
supplied from the more northern seaports.

The trade of Charleston has fluctuated very much,
its exports greatly exceeding in 1801 what they were
in 1842. If it is not a receding, it has none of the
appearance of an advancing town. Its population
returns, at different periods, indicate this. It has not
doubled its population since 1790, whilst other cities
around it have more than quadrupled theirs. From
1310 to 1820 it increased only from 24,7 11 to 24,780.
In 1830 it contained 30,289 inhabitants, being a gain
of nearly 6,000 during the previous decade. In 1 840,
however, it had fallen off to 29,261, since which time
it has again slightly increased. In the Old World a
town does well that maintains its ground, but in the
New, a community which is stationary may be ranked
in the category of those that are retrograde.

South Carolina, although by far the smallest State
south of the Potomac, has played as conspicuous a
figure in the politics of the Union as any member of

THE WESTERN WORLD. 187

the Confederacy. The question with which she has
all along principally identified herself, is that of the
tariff, although her name is associated with other ques
tions of an important character, but which sprung
from the angry disputes which the tariff occasioned.
From an early period South Carolina took the lead
in the free-trade movement, which, in its progress, has
been more than once fraught with peril to the Union,
and which only achieved its ultimate triumph in 1846.
Until the recent and rapid rise of the cotton-growing
States, on the Mississippi and the Gulf of Mexico,
South Carolina was the chief producer of the great
staple article of southern export. She was, therefore,
the chief sufferer from the series of high tariffs, de
signed and adopted for the protection of the domestic
manufacturer, which prevailed, with but little inter
mission, till 1832. These tariffs were obviously detri
mental to the interest of the southern States, which
had no manufactures to protect, and which could pro
cure all that they wanted for their own consumption
much more cheaply and better from the foreign manu
facturer, who was, in turn, their best customer, in
asmuch as he was the chief consumer of their raw
produce. South Carolina took up the question as one
of vital interest to her. She found herself injuriously
affected by the protective policy in a double sense, for
not only was her foreign market curtailed by the par
tial prohibition at home of foreign goods manufac
tured from her staple produce, but it was also still
further abridged by the enhanced cost of production
which a high tariff occasioned, by not only raising the
price of many of the necessary articles of consumption
with which the planter had to provide his slaves, but
by actually taxing the cotton bagging which he im-

188 THE WESTERN WORLD.

ported for the purpose of packing his raw cotton for
exportation. Dreading, in addition to this, the adop
tion of some retaliatory policy on the part of Great
Britain, which would still further injuriously affect
her interests, and goaded almost to madness by the
blighting effects of the tariff of 1828, as visible in the
serious declension of her export trade, South Carolina
at length attacked the whole protective system, in a
manner which, in 1832, produced a political crisis
eminently dangerous to the stability of the Union.
The contest was waged hotly on both sides ; the cot
ton-growing States denying to Congress the right to
impose taxes for any other purpose than revenue, and
the manufacturing States of the north contending that
it had full power to protect home manufactures, with
a view to building up an tf American system," whereby
the United States would ultimately be constituted
into a self-subsistent nation, independent, as regarded
the necessaries of life at least, of all the world.

Whilst South Carolina insisted that the powers of
Congress to impose taxes did not extend beyond what
was actually necessary for the maintenance of the re
venue, she saw no benefit to accrue from an " Ame
rican system," which threatened with ruin one moiety
of the Confederacy. It was in vain that the domestic
manufacturer promised her as good a market at home
for her produce as she enjoyed abroad. Even if he
could fulfil his promises, they were at best but pro
spective, whilst she enjoyed a present advantage from
the English market, from which it was proposed, as
much as possible, to disconnect her. This dispute,
arraying in hostility to each other the conflicting
interests of the two great sections of the Confederacy,
gave rise, in course of time, to other questions of a

THE WESTERN WORLD. 189

still more awkward and dangerous kind, prominent
amongst which were those of Nullification and Seces
sion. The whole matter has already been elsewhere
more fully touched upon in these pages, but I may here
again, in treating more particularly of South Carolina,
briefly allude to some points connected with it. The
dispute concerning the tariff brought under review the
powers and duties of the federal government. After
insisting that its powers in reference to taxation were
limited as above specified, South Carolina assumed
the position that, if Congress exceeded its con
stitutional powers, any State in the Union had
a right, quoad itself, to nullify its acts, in other
words, to render them of no effect by preventing
their execution within its limits. This doctrine was
resisted by the great majority of the States, the
Unionists contending that no State had the power to
judge for itself as to the un constitutionality of any
act of Congress, that power being solely vested in the
Supreme Federal Court, and that, consequently,
it was competent for no State to resist within its
limits the execution of any act of Congress, which
the Supreme Court had not declared to be in violation
of the Constitution. Considering the limited amount
of the imports of South Carolina, she would have
gained but little by preventing the levy of the high
duties complained of within her limits, the value of
her imports affecting but little the average cost of
imported articles to the general consumer ; for it is
scarcely to be supposed that the foreign importer, or
the native engaged in the import business, except in
South Carolina herself, would have run the hazard of
making Charleston his port of entry, in contravention
of the general revenue laws of the Union. But with

190 THE WESTERN WORLD.

the rise of the doctrine of Nullification, the question
came to involve a political principle, which the one
party was as desirous to promote, as the other was
determined to resist. Matters at length came to
such a pass that an amicable adjustment of the dispute
seemed out of the question, and both parties prepared
for an armed collision. General Jackson was then
President of the Republic, and his impetuous cha
racter and fiery temper would have hurried him at
once to extremities, but that there were about him
cooler heads than his own, to advise him to temporise
a little. This saved the Confederacy from destruction,
for had a collision ensued, it is impossible to set
bounds to the lamentable results which would have
followed. South Carolina was fully armed for resist
ance, had a blow been struck by the federal govern
ment ; and for weeks before the final adjustment of the
dispute, her troops were being marched and drilled,
in many instances, in the neighbourhood, and even in
sight of the federal forces. At length, but not before
the Union had been brought to the brink of disso
lution, the catastrophe was averted by the Com
promise Act, which provided for the gradual diminu
tion of the duties leviable by the oppressive tariff of
1828, by biennial reductions until 1842, when the act
would expire.

The Seceders, who also figured in the dispute, car
ried their views even further than the Nullifiers, con
tending for the right of a State, if it saw cause, itself
being the sole judge of the urgency of the occasion, to
withdraw entirely from the Union, in other words, to
abrogate, quoad itself, the federal constitution. This
was but directly advocating a principle to which
Nullification, if admitted, would indirectly lead. It

THE WESTERN WORLD. 191

had in it, however, so much of the appearance of
treason to the Confederacy, that it counted far fewer
adherents than the rival doctrine, which stood towards
it in the relation of the shadow to the substance.

Throughout the whole of this angry contest South
Carolina took the lead on the free-trade side, not
alone on account of the magnitude of the interests
which she had involved in it, the conspicuousness of
her position being greatly attributable to the charac
ter of the men whom she produced as her champions
for the occasion. Amongst the many eminent Caro
linians who figured during that critical period, and
whose names are destined to adorn the annals of their
country, Mr. Calhoun and Mr. M'Duffie stand promi
nently forth, unrivalled in the zeal and energy which
they displayed, and the eloquence with which they
advocated their cause. Some of them have since passed
away, but these two yet remain, the representatives
of South Carolina in the federal Senate ; Mr.
M'Duffie being now aged and infirm, Mr. Calhoun, on
the other hand, although far advanced in life, still
possessing all the perseverance and much of the
vigour which characterised his early career.

On the expiration, in 1842, of the Compromise
Act, the Protectionists had once more either the
power or the adroitness to re-enact, to a partial extent,
the tariff of 1828. This they did, in defiance of many
warnings of a recurrence of the scenes of 1 832. How
soon similar scenes would have been presented upon
the theatre of the Union it is not easy to say, had
not the possibility of their recurrence for the present
been prevented by the tariff-bill of 1846, which
reduced the duties upon most articles of import to the
revenue standard. This settlement of the question,

192 THE WESTERN WORLD.

so much desired by the South, is all the more likely
to be permanent, not only from its having been
secured by the cooperation of the West, which seems
at length to have been fairly, though tardily, con
verted to free-trade views, but also from the manner
in which its results have falsified all the prognostica
tions of the Whigs concerning it, especially in a revenue
point of view, and more than realized in this respect
the expectations even of its most sanguine promoters.
Washington was, of course, the chief focus of ex
citement throughout the whole of this memorable
controversy. In both Houses of Congress the dis
cussions which it engendered were frequent, acri
monious, and animated. On one of these occasions,
the fervid eloquence of Mr. M'Duffie, which had
always a decided effect, produced a more than usually
powerful impression. Contrasting the condition of
South Carolina previously with that in which she
found herself subsequently to the tariff of 1828, he
detailed the blighting effects of that measure upon her
trade, commerce, and prospects, in a fine crescendo
passage, which he adroitly wound up by quoting, as
applicable to her situation, the couplet —

" Not a rose of the wilderness left on its stalk,
To tell where a garden had been."

The importance of the subject, the momentous
nature of the issues involved, the excitement of the
occasion, the earnestness of the speaker, and the ap-
positeness of the quotation, all concurred in causing
the House to depart from the decorum which it usually
observes — audible expressions of applause breaking
from many of the benches around him.

An incident shortly afterwards occurred in con-

THE WESTERN WORLD. 193

nexion with the same subject, which not only produced
an indescribable sensation in Congress, but also sent
a thrill to the remotest extremities of the Union. As
the contest was prolonged, it waxed hotter and hotter,
the disputants daily assuming bolder positions, and
giving utterance to more menacing alternatives. At
length was fulminated, not by inuendo, but in express
words, the terrible threat of a dissolution of the
Union. The effect upon the House was as if a
tocsin had suddenly sounded overhead. The startled
senators looked incredulously at each other, in the
hope that their ears had deceived them ; but there
was no deception in the case, for there stood the
speaker, pale and trembling, his eye dilated, his lip qui
vering, and his whole attitude betokening that he had
been awe-struck at the sounds to which his own voice
had given utterance. There too, on the floor, but
without the body of the House, were some of the
high functionaries of State, and most of the diplo
matic corps resident in Washington, looking grave and
solemn; and there were the public galleries thronged
with agitated but motionless occupants ; whilst the
very reporters looked as if they doubted the evidence
of their senses, and their fingers refused to chronicle
the words. The idea had long been afloat in the
public mind as something merely within the range of
possibility ; but this broaching of it in the centre of
the Republic, this open threat of it in the very temple
of the Confederation, seemed to place the country, at
one bound, half-way between the idea and its realiza
tion. I have the testimony of several who witnessed
the scene, that it was one of the most solemn and
impressive description. It is difficult for a stranger
to appreciate the attachment which an American
VOL. ii. K

194 THE WESTERN WORLD.

cherishes, no matter what part of the country he in-
hahits, for the federal Union, — whilst no one is in a
better position than he is to understand the perils to
which, from conflicting interests, it is liable. Until
the South, on this occasion, openly held it in terrorem
over the N orth, the idea of a dissolution of the Union
was spoken of more in whispers than otherwise. The
promulgation of it in Congress seemed to transfer it at
once from the category of things possible to that of
things probable ; and it is now frequently referred to
with an unconcern more apparent than real, both
within and without the walls of the legislature. But
a great obstacle is removed from between an idea and
its consummation, when it becomes a familiar subject
of thought and topic of conversation, and when the
notion of its probability is one to which those who
are chiefly interested become more or less reconciled.
The integrity of the Union is no longer that solemn
and unquestionable reality which it used to be with
the American. His present attachment to it, great
though it be, rests upon a conviction of its expe
diency more than of its sacredness. The spell of its
sanctity was broken, when South Carolina threatened
to demonstrate its violability. It is now deemed
neither sacrilegious to speculate upon, nor unpatriotic
to menace it. For the present, however, it runs no
serious risk of disruption from fiscal disputes. Slavery
is its evil genius, and the question which is yet des
tined to put its solidity to the most perilous test.

Having no particular object in prolonging my stay,
I left Charleston, after two days' sojourn in it, en route
for New Orleans. My first intention was to proceed
as far south as Savannah ; but as that town possessed
no feature of particular attraction, and as the sea-

THE WESTERN WORLD. 195

coast region of Georgia had little in it to distinguish
it from the corresponding districts in the two Caro-
linas, I abandoned the idea, and took the most direct
route from Charleston to the great emporium of the
West. I was all the more induced to do this on
ascertaining that the route on which I had decided
would lead me through some of the older and better
parts of the State of Georgia back from the sea-coast,
and bordering upon its more recent acquisitions from
the Creeks and Cherokees, — acquisitions redounding
more to the advantage of this and some of the neigh
bouring States, than to the credit of those who bore
the chief part in the systematic spoliation by which
they were effected.

The first point for which I made was Columbia, the
capital of South Carolina, lying a little upwards of
one hundred miles in a north-westerly direction from
Charleston. The two places are connected by a rail
way, which, on my passing over it, was composed in
most places of but a single line. For more than half
the whole distance this line traverses the tide-water
section of the State. Travelling upon it from Charles
ton to Columbia was but reversing the journey from
Raleigh to Wilmington. There was but little to dis
tinguish the one route from the other, except that, in
this case, I was ascending to the higher and drier
regions of the country, instead of descending, as in the
other, to the low and marshy districts of the coast.
The inhabitants divide the land into five or six dif
ferent classes of soil, distinguishing them partly by
their quality, and partly by their mere position. To
the traveller, however, the State divides itself into but
three great sections : the low tract on the coast, the
middle region, and the high and mountainous district

K2

196 THE WESTERN WORLD.

to the west. These have each its peculiarities, whilst
their diversity of soil and production is found to be
advantageous to the general interests. The portion
of the low ground, known as the Tide-swamp, is rarely
found convertible to any useful purpose, rice being
extensively cultivated in the marshy soils lying im
mediately back of it, and beyond the range of the
tide. Along some parts of the coast hemp is also
found cultivated ; on this belt, rice and cotton are the
staple articles of production of the State, and conse
quently figure most largely in its exports. Indigo
was at one time extensively cultivated in this State,
but it has since given way for other and more profit
able crops. The principal cotton plantations are to
be found along the banks of the rivers, in the low
country, where the soil is of an excellent quality and
easily cultivated. The whole of this district, how
ever, which has, in most places, from the quantity of
dark and sombre pitch-pine with which it abounds,
the gloomy and monotonous aspect described above
as characteristic of the great tide-water region, of
which it is but a portion, is so unhealthy that, from
May till October, every one possessed of or inheriting
a European constitution, who can manage to do so,
abandons it to the negroes, with whom it seems to
agree, or who are compelled to remain and run all the
hazards to which it may subject them. The approach
to the middle region is indicated by successive ridges
of sandy hillocks, their elevation being too trifling
to entitle them to a more dignified appellation.
Amongst these ridges flow a number of small streams,
which, in their descent to the low country, afford an
excellent water power, of which several companies have
availed themselves, by establishing factories upon them,

THE WESTERN WORLD. 197

chiefly for the manufacture of the coarse and heavy
osnaburgs already alluded to, designed almost ex
clusively for negro consumption. What makes the
water power thus afforded all the more valuable is,
that it is available all the year round, for such is the
nature of the district through which the streams
affording it flow, that they are seldom swollen by the
heaviest rains, or dried up by the most protracted
heats. It is scarcely necessary to add that they are
never rendered useless by being arrested by frost.

Between these sandy elevations and the moun
tainous district to the westward, is a broad belt of
country, in the main barren and unprofitable, but
with rich and fertile veins of low-lying soil here and
there intersecting it. On these are produced Indian
corn, some Indigo, and occasionally tobacco. Wheat
is also raised, but to a trifling extent, South Carolina
being chiefly provided from the north with the little
quantity of this grain which she consumes. The
remainder of this belt, including by far the greater
portion of it, is almost entirely covered with pine.,
and is familiarly known as the "pine barrens." The
dreary reaches of pine forest with which it is clothed
are now and then broken by the savannas which are
neither more nor less than isolated prairies on a small
scale, covered with a tall, rank grass, in the main too
coarse for pasturage. Along the richer veins which
permeate the tract is to be found a variety of timber,
amongst which are conspicuous the hickory, the live
oak, and occasionally the white and red cedar. Every
here and there, too, the magnolia is to be met with
amongst them, ornamenting the forest with its gay
but not gaudy appearance, and perfuming the air
with its luscious breath. Fruits, too, of almost all

198 THE WESTERN WORLD.

kinds, abound in the richer portions of this region, as
they do also in the warm valleys lying beyond the
mountainous ridge to the westward, to which, how
ever, my route did not lead me ; whilst wild flowers in
profusion are to be seen exhibiting their variegated
and dazzling colours along the skirts of the forest and
the margins of the streams.

In Europe we invariably associate with the idea of
a capital a large and splendid city, the seat of wealth?
luxury, and refinement. The European who might
carry this association with him to America would
subject himself to many singular surprises, but to none
more so than that which he would encounter on en
tering the capital of South Carolina. It has fallen to
the lot of but few of the large and important towns
of America to be the seats of government of their
respective States. The federal capital itself, as
already shown, is but a small, and, in all respects
but one, an unimportant place. The sites of the
great cities have been selected with a view to the con
venience of trade and commerce; whereas in the
choice of those of the different seats of government,
a very different kind of convenience has been con
sulted. Boston and New Orleans* are the only two
large towns enjoying the dignity of capital cities — a
dignity which is denied to New York, Philadelphia,
Baltimore, Charleston, Cincinnati, and St. Louis.
In fixing upon the situation of the capital the object
in most of the States has been to select it at a point
as near the geographical centre of the State as possible.
The cities last named are all either at one side or at
one of the corners of their respective States. Boston
is also eccentrically situated, but it still retains the
* The latter has since been deprived of it.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 199

political preeminence in Massachusetts which it has
ever enjoyed. At first, when the population of each
State was greatly scattered, and the means of com
munication between one point and another were of
the most wretched and impracticable description,
there was good reason ior consulting the general con
venience, by placing the seat of government, in which
the legislature was annually to assemble, as nearly as
possible equidistant from its extremities. Now,
however, that the means of travelling are greatly im
proved, and are still rapidly improving, the same
necessity does not exist; and it is questionable, if the
selection had to be made now, if the large towns would
be abandoned for the sake of more central positions.
There is certainly another reason for the choice,
which still retains whatever of force it originally pos
sessed, which is, that the deliberations of a legislature
essentially popular are much more likely to be pro
perly and unmolestedly conducted in the midst of a
small, than of a large community. Very recent
events in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, however, show
that even in a small town the sovereignty of a State
may be subjected to the most wanton outrage. If
the State legislature were always surrounded by a
certain amount of force for its protection, that force
would undoubtedly be of more avail against a few
than against a multitude of assailants. But such is
not the case ; the American legislatures depending for
their security, first upon the municipal authorities of
the places at which they assemble, and then, should
they fail them or prove insufficient, upon the militia
of the State. If, in a large town, the number of their
assailants might be great, the force which they could
summon for their protection would be great in pro-

200 THE WESTERN WORLD.

portion. When in Harrisburg the legislature was
summarily ejected by the mob from its place of meet
ing, the Governor of the State had to send to Phila
delphia for aid to quell the riot. Had it occurred in
that city, the probability is that no extraneous assist
ance would have been required for its suppression.
Besides, in times of commotion, and when there may
be a prospect of civil disturbances, the influence of
the government should be particularly felt in the com
munity, which, by its example, is capable of effecting
the greatest good or evil ; and this can only be done
by its presence in the midst of it.

Columbia, the seat of government in South Caro
lina, is situated on the banks of a river called the
Congaree, a stream of petty pretensions in America,
but one which would cut a very respectable figure in
the geography of a European kingdom. The town
contains a population scarcely so numerous as that of
Horsham, and would be esteemed as a fair specimen of
a parliamentary borough in England. One would
think that in selecting a site for their capital, fertility
in the circumjacent region would be a sine qua non with
any people. But not so with the Carolinians, who,
in order to have it in as central a position as possible,
have placed it in the midst of one of the most barren
districts of the State. Luckily, its limited popula
tion renders it easy of supply, for it is difficult to see
how a large community could subsist on such a spot,
unless they could accommodate themselves to pine-
cones as their chief edible. But Palmyra managed
to subsist in the desert, and so may Columbia in the
wilderness, which is the only appellation which can
properly be bestowed upon the dreary and almost
unbroken expanse of pine forest which surrounds it.

THE WESTERN WOULD. 201

Notwithstanding all its disadvantages in point of
position, Columbia is, on the whole, rather an interest
ing little town. There is about it an air of neatness
and elegance which betokens it to be the residence
of a superior class of people — many of the planters
whose estates are in the neighbourhood making it the
place of their abode ; as well as the governor, the
chief functionaries of state subordinate to him, and
some of the judges. There is little or nothing con
nected with the government buildings worthy of
attention, their dimensions being very limited, and
their style of a simple and altogether unambitious
description. The streets, as in the majority of
the southern towns of more recent origin, are long,
straight, and broad, and are lined, for the most part,
with trees, prominent amongst which is to be found
the gay and flaunting " Pride of India." Here, in
this small, quiet, and unimposing-looking town, are
conducted the affairs of a sovereign State, at a cost of
under 50,000/., including not only the salaries of all
its functionaries political, judicial, and municipal,
but also the payment of the members of the legisla
ture during their attendance at its annual sitting.
South Carolina, however, is not so fortunate as to be
free of debt like her northern namesake. Her abso
lute obligations exceed three millions of dollars, to
which is to be added a contingent debt of about two
millions, making her present total debt exceed five
millions of dollars. On her absolute debt she now
pays about 170,000 dollars a year by way of interest,
or about 40,000/., nearly as much as is required to
defray the annual expense of the government of the
State. She is not without something to show, however,
as a set-off to the liabilities which she has incurred.

K3

202 THE WESTERN WORLD.

Her public works are more numerous than extensive,
and are proportionate to her existing wants. By means
of some of these, a communication by boats has been
opened between the capital and the sea-board.

From Columbia I proceeded by railway towards
Augusta. For the first half of the way the country
was very uninteresting, being comparatively flat and
sandy, and covered, for the most part, with the inter
minable pitch-pine. Indeed the pine barrens extend,
with but little interruption, almost the entire way
between the two places, the distance between them
being from eighty to ninety miles. Here and there
are some long stretches of marshy ground, over which
the railway is carried, not by embankments, but upon
piles, which impart to it a dangerous and shaky ap
pearance. I was not surprised at the anxiety which
almost every passenger manifested to get over these
portions of the line without accident, especially when
I learnt that there was danger in being detained upon
them after night-fall. It was not simply, therefore,
by the dread of a break-neck accident that they were
animated, their fears being divided between such a
possibility and any contingency which might expose
them to the nocturnal miasmas of the marshes.

Whilst passing over one of these flimsy and aerial-
looking viaducts, I left the carriage in which I was
seated for the platform outside. In doing so, I per
ceived that I was followed by a little wiry-looking
man of about forty years of age, who had evidently,
before my making the movement, been regarding
me for some time with the most marked attention.
He was dressed in a pair of coarse grey trousers, a
yellow waistcoat, and a superfine blue swallow-tailed
coat, profusely bespangled with large and well-bur-

THE WESTERN WORLD. 203

nished brass buttons. His face, which had a sickly
pallor about it, was strongly lined, and marked with a
mingled expression of shrewdness and cunning which
gave it some fascination, at the same time that it
bordered on the repulsive. He was becoming pre
maturely grey, his hair sticking out from his head as
strong and crispy as catgut. I instinctively shrunk
from him as he approached me, for I saw a large
capital note of interrogation in each of his little and
restless light blue eyes. Desirous of not being in
terrupted, I pulled out a note-book, with which I
feigned to be engaged. Either the pretence was
apparent to him, or, having made up his mind to
address me, he was not going to be baulked by a trifle.
So approaching me still nearer, he put a finishing
pressure upon the tobacco which was between his
teeth, and the remaining juice of which he vehemently
squirted over the platform of the succeeding carriage.
Having done this he bent his head forward, opened
his mouth wide, and the reeking quid fell at my feet.
I turned half aside in disgust, and was meditating a
retreat into the carriage, when —

" Good day, stranger," broke upon my ear, and
intimated that I was too late.

" Good day," I replied, glancing at him at the same
time ; but he was not looking at me, for his eye was so
vacantly intent upon the wilderness before us, that, for
the moment, I doubted his having addressed me at all.

" How d'ye do?" said he again, after a few seconds'
pause, nodding his head, and looking me for a moment
full in the^ face, after which his eye again riveted
itself upon the forest.

" As well as a stranger could expect to be under
such a sun in these stewing latitudes," I rejoined, at

204 THE WESTERN WORLD.

the same time wiping the perspiration, which was
flowing very freely, from my face.

" You don't chew, p'r'aps?" added he, offering me his
tobacco-box ; on declining which he quietly replen
ished from its contents the void which the ejection of
the last quid had left between his jaws.

" PVaps you snuff?" he continued.

I made a negative motion.

"Smoke?" he added.

" Occasionally," I replied.

" I don't — it's a dirty habit," said he, at the same
time ejecting a quantity of poisoned saliva, a portion
of which falling upon the iron railing which sur
rounded the platform, he rubbed off with his finger,
which he afterwards wiped upon his trousers.

" In no way can the use of tobacco be regarded as
a very cleanly habit," I remarked, looking at the stain
which the operation had left upon the garment in
question. But if he heard, he affected not to hear
me, for after a brief pause, changing the subject —

"May be you'll be no Scotchman, I'm thinking"
said he.

" May be you're mistaken if you think so," re
plied I.

" I opined as much from your tarting wrapper," he
added, alluding to a small shepherd tartan plaid which
I carried with me for night travelling.

" It has something of a Scottish look about it," I
remarked drily.

" Then,"said he, " I was right in my position."

" I did not say you were wrong," rejoined I.

" Stranger," added he, " had I been wrong, you'd
'a said so."

I looked again at my note-book, in the hope that

THE WESTERN WORLD. 205

he would take the hint. But I was mistaken, for,
after a brief silence, he continued —

" I'm fond of Scotchmen," looking at the same time
hard at me, to see what effect was produced by the
announcement of so astounding a piece of patronage.

" Indeed," I remarked, as unconcernedly as pos
sible ; at which he seemed somewhat annoyed, for he
looked as if he expected me to grasp his hand.

" I'm a Scotchman myself," he added, fixing his
eye upon me again.

I was sorry to hear it, but looked unmoved, simply
replying by the monosyllabic ejaculation, " Ah."

" Not exactly a Scotchman," he continued, cor
recting himself; "for I was born in this country, and
so were my father and grandfather before me."

" Then you have a longer line of American ances
tors than most of your fellow-countrymen can boast
of," I observed.

" We don't vally these things in this country," said
he in reply ; " it's what's above ground, not what's
under, that we think on. Been long in this country,
stranger ?"

" Some months,"

" How much longer be you going to stay ? " he
added.

" That's more than I can tell," replied I, " the
length of my stay depending on a variety of circum
stances."

" You couldn't mention them ?" he inquired coolly,
expectorating over his right shoulder, to the im
minent danger of another passenger who had just
emerged from the carriage, and who, by a jerk of his
body, missed the filthy projectile.

" If I were disposed to do so/' said I, rather amused

206 THE WESTERN WORLD.

at his impudence, " we should be at Augusta long
before I could detail them all."

(( I'm going further on," added he, as if to intimate
that he would give me an opportunity of finishing my
story on quitting Augusta.

" But I am not ; and we are now but a few miles
from it," I observed.

" May be you're on government business ?" said he,
endeavouring to extort by piecemeal that of which he
was denied an ample narration.

" May be I'm not," was all the satisfaction he had.

" I don't think you're in the commercial line," he
continued, unabashed ; " and you don't look as if you
was travelling for pleasure neither."

" It's very singular," was my reply.

" How long d'ye think you'll stay in this free
country ? " he asked, baffled in his cross-examination
as to my object and pursuits.

"Until I'm tired of it," said L

" When will that be ?" he inquired.

" Perhaps not till I'm homesick," I replied.

" That'll be very soon," said he ; " for most Euro
peans get homesick mightily soon after comin' here."

"You give but a poor account of your country/'
I observed.

" You're mistaken, stranger," he remarked, " I don't
mean homesick."

f( You said homesick," rejoined I.

" But I meant, sick of home," he added in a tone
of great emphasis ; " for they can't be long in the
midst of our free institootions without a gettin' dead
sick of their tyrannical governments."

"It depends a good deal upon their turn of mind,
and a little upon their strength of stomach," I

THE WESTERN WOULD, 207

remarked ; for at that moment the tobacco-juice was
oozing rapidly from either corner of his mouth. He
did not comprehend the allusion, and I judged it as
well to leave him in the dark.

I must do him the justice to say that, having ex
hibited himself in the best possible manner as an
interrogator, he became gratuitously communicative,
informing me that his name was Mackenzie, that he
was descended from one of the Highland colonists
who had been transplanted to Georgia more than a
century ago ; that his great grandfather had worn a
kilt in the colony (the mountaineers preserved their
dress and manners for a number of years after their
arrival) ; that a maiden aunt of his had died, on her
passage out from Scotland some years since — a great
misfortune to herself, he admitted, but a blessing to
him, as she left him a considerable sum of money,
which enabled him to begin the world afresh, after
having compounded a second time with his creditors ;
that he had married, on prosperity returning to him,
and that in four years he had had five children. He was
of course much interested in his own narrative, and
as there was nothing in the landscape to deserve
attention, I listened and was amused. He soon, how
ever, took a more enlarged range, and detailed to me
with great volubility his views as to the superior and
illimitable capacities of the Celtic race. It was his
profound belief too, that what the Celts were to the
rest of mankind, the Mackenzies were to the Celts.
By some curious philological process which I could
not at all comprehend, he deduced all the Presidents
of the Union, either directly or indirectly, from the
clan. Madison was clearly a Mackenzie, as he proved
by the analogy subsisting between the two names,

208 THE WESTERN WOULD.

perceptible after dropping several letters and putting
others in their places. Nay more, he proceeded to
show that most of the great men of other countries
and climes, if not exactly Mackenzies, appertained to
the race of superior intelligences which culminated in
that clan. I asked him in what light in this respect
he regarded Confucius and the Apostle Paul; to which
he replied, that he was not sure as to their being
Highlanders, but was certain that they were not Anglo-
Saxons. With one reflection he was exceedingly
gratified, viz. that as St. Paul had the gift of tongues,
he must have spoken Gaelic — a fact which I ventured
to question, on the ground of their being no proof of
there having been any Highlanders at the time to
preach to in Jerusalem.

" There's no proof that there were not," he ob
served, (f but there is of their having been settlers in
the East at the time of the Patriarchs. We find,"
he continued, " that Abraham himself had dealings
with them."

" I was aware," I replied, ** that the Grants had
been discovered in Genesis, but beyond this I have
never heard of any text which bears you out in your
assertion."

" Did not Abraham purchase the field of Mach-
pelah, or rather Macphelah, as it should have been
rendered?" he asked, in a tone which betokened his
belief that he had caught me.

" Truly," said I, " but that was not a person's
name, but that of the field."

" Are you not aware," be asked, " that, even to
this day, properties amongst the Highlanders take
the name of their chiefs, and chiefs that of their pro
perties ? There is Maclean of Maclean, for instance."

THE WESTERN WORLD. 209

" You mean, then/' observed I, " that he purchased
the field of Mac Phelah of that ilk? "

" Certainly," he replied, " and the Mac Phails of
the present day are the descendants of the Mac
Phelahsof old."

He had great respect for the mechanical abilities
of the Anglo-Saxons, but in his opinion they owed
all their greatness to their having been guided by
the Celtic mind. They had done little that the
" niggers " couldn't achieve if they were closely
watched and kept at it; the chief difference, he
thought, between the two being, that the one race
was naturally industrious, and the other lazy.

One of the most marked peculiarities of his mind
was the hatred which he cherished to the British
government. He could not say that it had ever done
him any individual mischief, but he seemed to deem
it necessary, as an American and a republican, to hate
all tyrannies in general, and that of Great Britain in
particular. He had not the slightest conception of
the existence of anything like political or conventional
freedom in England. He could not believe that an
Englishman could walk the streets or the fields, or
proceed with his daily business, with as little molesta
tion and with as much security as an American, and
with even more security than many of them, as far as
regarded his protection by the laws. From his idea
of the British Government, he could not dissociate the
" red coats," who came in for the very quintessence
of his hatred, and whom he regarded as the ubiquitous
oppressors of the people all over the island. I endea
voured, but in vain, to modify his opinion in this
respect. He would not be convinced, and was amazed
that, as a subject of the British crown, I could not

210 THE WESTERN WORLD.

see the system of espionage and military tyranny to
which, in common with the rest of my countrymen,
I was subjected. I afterwards found this violence
of feeling characteristic of the Scotchmen and their
immediate descendants in America, the genius of
the race being such as apparently to lead them to
extremes in the opinions which they espouse with
regard to politics, morals, or religion.

" Is that Augusta ? " I inquired, as a tall and rather
handsome spire at length made its appearance in
advance of us.

tf I reckon as how it is," he replied, such being his
manner of elaborating a simple affirmative.

In a few minutes afterwards we were on the banks
of the Savannah, which here separates Georgia from
South Carolina. Our halting-place was a small and
very unpretending-looking village called Hamburgh,
which in reality served as a suburb to Augusta, on the
opposite side of the river. After a few minutes' stay
here, we crossed the river to Augusta, where I took
leave of the singular being who had alternately annoyed
and amused me for the last half hour of the journey.

The Savannah, opposite Augusta, is about two-
thirds the width of the Thames at Waterloo-bridge.
It is a muddy-looking stream, with a current of from
three to four miles an hour. For most of the way
down to the city of Savannah, which is about twenty
miles from its mouth, its banks are covered with
wood, broken by numerous clearances in the neigh
bourhood of Augusta, on which Indian corn is raised
with ease and in great abundance. The 'depth of the
river suffices for a steamboat communication between
Augusta and Savannah, the former being thus directly
connected with the two great southern Atlantic sea-

THE WESTERN WOULD. 211

ports, its junction with Charleston being effected by
the South Carolina railway, from which the line to
Columbia diverges as a branch. Augusta is situated
on a bluff, a considerable height above the river, and
when viewed from the Carolina side of the stream
presents a pretty if not an imposing appearance. It
is but a small town, its population scarcely amounting
to 8,000, and fully one-half of this number being
negroes, nearly all of whom are slaves. The principal
streets, which run parallel to the river, are of a pro
digious width, being surpassed in this respect by
nothing which I met with in the United States, with
the single exception of Pennsylvania-avenue in
Washington. Like most other American towns, par
ticularly in the South, its streets are ornamented with
rows of trees, the " Pride of India " figuring amongst
them, as it usually does in street scenery south of the
Potomac. The plan of the town is faultlessly regular,
and the streets occupied by private dwellings are
very neat, and some of them elegant in their appear
ance. The principal building of which it boasts is
the Court House, a large and handsome brick edifice,
surmounted by a lofty and rather awkward-looking
cupola. Behind it is the Medical-college, ornamented
in front with a Greek portico, and surmounted by a
miniature dome. On the whole, Augusta is a place
which leaves an impression rather favourable than
otherwise on the mind of the traveller.

Considering its inland position, it is a place of no
little trade. It is the point on which the planters
west of it annually concentrate their produce for sale,
and whence they procure their supplies, its position
rendering it, as it were, but an advanced post of
Charleston and Savannah.

212 THE WESTERN WOULD.

A little behind the town are some gentle heights,
which are besprinkled with neat little villas, the
resort, in summer time, of many of the wealthier
citizens, who retire to them with their families for
the hotter months on account of their greater cool
ness and salubrity.

I left, next day for Milledgeville, the capital of
Georgia, between which place and Augusta the
country resembled in its essential features the district
intervening between the latter place and Columbia,
with the exception that we more frequently came
upon small isolated fertile tracts in the midst of the
gloomy pine forests through which still lay our
course. The pitch-pine, which here attains its great
est perfection, is a source of considerable wealth to
Georgia, not only in supplying the Union with resin
ous matter for its consumption, but as affording the
very best material for spars, masts, &c., for the navy
both national and commercial. The live oak, which
is also here met with, is likewise in great demand for
ship-building purposes, but it flourishes much better
in the lower districts nearer the coast.

Of Milledgeville but very little can be said. Its site,
which is on the banks of the Oconee river, is riot ill
chosen, either as regards convenience or prospect; but
the town itself, the greater part of which resembles
a straggling village, is devoid of interest, whilst the
accommodation which it affords to the traveller is not
of the best description I entered it without having
formed any great expectations of it, and left it, as
soon as I could, with the impression that it was one
of the most undesirable places I had yet visited in
America.

CHAPTER VIII.

FROM MILLEDGEVILLE TO MACON. — RAILWAY AND
TELEGRAPHIC SYSTEMS OF THE UNITED STATES.

Journey by Stage to Macon. — An American Stage-coach. — My
Fellow-passengers.— The Road Difficulties of the journey.— The
Railway System of the United States— Its three great features. —
The System in the Basin of the St. Lawrence.— The Sea-coast
System. — The Central System. — Prospective System of Railways
in the Great Valley. — Extent of Railways. — Extent of Lines pro
jected. — Effect of Railways and Canals upon the common Roads of
America. — Facilities afforded for the Construction of Railways in
America. — Favourable nature of the Surface of the country. —
Cheapness of Land. — Cheapness and Availability of Timber. —
Single Lines.— Dividends.— Durability of American Railways. —
Number of Trains.— Construction of the Cars.— Plan adopted with
regard to Luggage. —No different Classes of travellers on American
Railways. — Unreasonableness of this.— Speed. — Fares. — The
Electric Telegraph in America. — Its triumphs.— Lines completed,
projected, and in progress. — Prospects of America in connexion
with the Telegraph.

IT was late at night when I left Milledgeville.
Here, for the first time on my way from Boston to
New Orleans, I had to betake myself to a stage coach,
the previous part of the journey, extending over
upwards of 1,200 miles, having been entirely per
formed by railway and steamer.* In England, after a
long railway ride, the prospect of a stage coach
journey is the reverse of disagreeable. With a good
road, a highly cultivated and picturesque country,
and a well appointed coach, nothing can be more
delightful in the way of travelling than an outside
seat on one of those old but now almost traditional
* The railways have since been extended westward.

214 THE WESTERN WORLD.

vehicles. It is a pity that the utilitarianism of the
age could not have left us some of the poetry of
travelling. The railways have swallowed up the
stage coaches, and now bid fair to devour one
another.

The sooner the coach is entirely driven out of the
field in America the better, for neither in itself
nor in its accompaniments is it poetical or conve
nient. Before entering it I had the curiosity to
examine that which was to convey me from Milledge-
ville to Macon, about thirty miles off, which I was
but partly enabled to do by the glimmering light of
a tin lantern, which had the peculiarity of never being
precisely where it was wanted. The coach was a
huge bulky concern, built more with a view to
strength than elegance of shape. It was not long ere
I had reason to appreciate the policy of this. The
night being dry, though dark, I mounted one of the
hind wheels, as the first step of my progress to an
outside seat, a manoeuvre by which I first became
acquainted with the fact that there were no outside
seats upon it, an American stage being like a canal
boat, all hold. This is a regulation which is more
the result of necessity than choice ; the condition of
the roads rendering it essential that the centre of
gravity should be kept as low as possible, an object
which is attained by stowing all the passengers inside.
In the summer time, as the coach holds nine, and as
ten or eleven are sometimes packed into it, it may
easily be imagined that the condition of the traveller
is anything but an enviable one ; for when, gasping,
he opens the window for air, he gets such a quantity
of dust into mouth, nose, ears, and eyes, that he is
fain to shut it again with all speed. In winter they
are more comfortable, as the passengers keep each

THE WESTERN WORLD. 215

other warm ; but then the state of the roads is such
that they are in constant apprehension of being upset
into the mud, or upon the hard frozen ground,
according to the temperature ; an apprehension which,
in a journey of any length, is seldom falsified. On
examining into the state of the springs, I found that
the vehicle rested upon two broad and strong belts of
leather, each of which was securely attached, at
either end, to a species of spring which rose to the
height of about two feet from the axletree. Ordi
nary metal springs would have been as useless for the
support of a machine destined for such service, as a
horse trained to good roads would have been for
drawing it.

It was provided internally with three seats, one at
either end and one in the middle, extending across
from window to window. The back of the middle
seat consisted of a broad leather belt, which could be
unhooked at one end for the convenience of passen
gers making for, or making from, the back seat. I
had not seen them get in, and was therefore surprised,
on stepping in myself, to find every seat occupied,
but one next the window in the middle of the coach.
No one spoke, and as it was almost pitch dark, I
could tell neither the size, the age, the sex, nor the
complexion of my fellow-travellers.

After a great deal of apparently unnecessary delay
we at length moved off, the lumbering vehicle, in
passing through the streets of the town, rolling
smoothly enough, but heaving and plunging like a
vessel in a troubled sea as soon as we got into the
open country road.

4< Well have a heavy ride of it," said a gruff voice
on my left, for the first time breaking the silence
which prevailed. " The rain have been sweet here

216 THE WESTERN WORLD.

for a day or two, and made mush and milk of the
roads."

"You're forgetting that they're sandy, and that
they '11 be rather hard than otherwise after the showers,"
said the passenger immediately beyond him in a shrill
falsetto tone.

te Sandy here b'aint sandy there," replied the other,
who afterwards turned out to be "Judge Fish," (a
county judge and not necessarily a lawyer,) from one
of the " river counties" of New York, his companion
being an attorney and Commissioner of Deeds from
Long Island ; " there are bits of the salt marsh up
here, young man, where the roads will be peticVlar
pretty, I reckon."

He had scarcely spoken ere the coach gave a tre
mendous lurch to one side, and for a moment or two
remained poised upon the two lower wheels ; but by
all inclining as much as we could to windward, we
got it restored to a more secure position. It was not
without a violent struggle, accompanied by a con
tinued torrent of ejaculations from the driver, that our
horses managed to drag us from the hole into which
the near wheels had slipped.

" Hope the next '11 be no worse," said the judge ;
whose observations, in connexion with the incident,
made most of us feel as if an additional premium
upon a life policy would be considered no great hard
ship by us.

" Best to look out for squalls in time," he con
tinued, at the same time extending a hand on each
side and grasping with one of them the looped leather
strap, which, hanging from the side of the coach close
to my shoulder, seemed placed there more for my
convenience than for his.

" I have no objection to your holding the strap for

THE WESTERN WORLD. 217

security," said I, " but I have a great deal to your
arm rubbing against my face."

" Sorry to onconvenience you," replied the judge,
" but I'm holdin' on in the same way to the other side."

" That may put the balance of advantages in your
favour, but not in mine," said I, getting somewhat
irritated, and not without reason, at the position in
which he had placed himself.

" Some people are mighty petick'lar about trifles,"
he observed, as quitting his hold he passed his arm
behind me and grasped the strap as before. " I'll do
anything reasonable to oblige," he continued, "but
self-preservation is the first law of nature, and I'm
always punctual in my observance of it."

After a few minutes' pause he added, " Besides,
I'm doin' you both a service," alluding to the passen
ger on his other side ; "for if the coach tumbles to
this side (mine), you'll be only half as much squeezed
as you would be but for the opposite strap, whilst
that on your side will serve this here gen'leman as
good a turn, should we lurch into the muck on his side."

There was some comfort in this, and I held my
peace.

" I'll tell you what it is," he resumed, " I have
travelled a few, that's a fack, and I have found
that there's nothing like the middle seat in these
coaches ; for if you upset you have only one passen
ger to fall on you, when you fall softly on another.
One of you folks at the end may escape, but if we
get a tumble, the other is sure to hay two of us on
the top of him. That mightn't be so comfortable,
might it ? "

I did not answer, but was positive that it would not.

"But only let me hold on by the upper side as

VOL. II. L

218 THE WESTERN WORLD.

we're agoin' over," he said still continuing, {t and the
lowermost one will have som chance of getting his
bones whole to Macon. I'm fourteen stun' weight,
and would make a mighty pretty squash comin' down
on any of you."

Although his precautions were dictated by the
purest selfishness, I had reason to see that I was
somewhat interested in them, for I shuddered at the
bare prospect of an upset, with the judge and the
commissioner both on the top of me.

On we went, sometimes rolling smoothly for a few
yards, and then plunging and rising again as if, in
stead of being on terra firma, we were afloat and
encountering a short cross sea. At length, with a
jerk which nearly shook the vehicle to pieces and
dislocated every bone in our bodies, we stuck fast in
a hole full of mud and water.

" I'm blow'd if we ha'n't run agin' a sawyer," said
the judge, fancying himself for a moment on the
Mississippi.

"Passengers must walk a bit here," roared the
driver from the roof, " for we're aground and can't get
out of it no how else."

" Walkings a recreation," said the judge ; " let's
spill out and have a little of the divarsion."

We did spill out, but it was only by dint of a good
leap that we cleared the hole, into which the fore-
wheels had sunk up to the axletree. As it was, we
were up to the ankles in mud, a circumstance which,
added to the darkness of the night, made walking in
that particular instance anything but a recreation.
There was one lady on the back seat who remained
in ; but what surprised me was, that those on the
front seat did not follow us out. On expressing my

THE WESTERN WORLD. 219

surprise at this to the judge, he simply observed that
it was easier said than done ; a remark the drift of
which I did not comprehend, nor did I think it worth
while to ask for an explanation.

We were about to proceed a little in advance, when
the driver requested us to remain where we were, as
we " might be needed." I was wondering what we
could be needed for, unless it was to get in again,
when the judge, after watching for a moment or two
the ineffectual struggles of the horses to rescue the
coach from its position, observed — " It's no use, we
must have the rail." He thereupon detached one of
the lamps from the vehicle, and proceeded to the side
of the road to look for the article in question ; but
there being no fence on either hand, it was not until
we had penetrated for some distance into the forest
that we found a piece of timber that would answer
the purpose of a stout lever. Returning with this,
it was applied to the sunken wheels, by which means,
after some further desperate struggles on the part of
the cattle, the vehicle was raised to the natural level
of the road.

" Can't get in yet," said the driver to me as I was
about to resume my place ; " the road's shockin
bad for the next half mile ; so walk's the word."

There was no gainsaying this, so with the judge,
the commissioner, and two fellow-passengers from the
back seat, I set out in advance of the coach. Before
doing so, however, the driver informed us that it
would be advisable for us not to part from the pole,
as we might frequently require it before we resumed
our seats, and the absence offences making it doubt
ful if we could always procure an implement so well
suited to our purpose. It was, therefore, agreed
L 2

220 THE WESTERN WORLD.

that we should take it turn about, and on the sug
gestion of the judge we cast lots who should first
bear the burden. The lot fell upon me ; so off we
started, my fellow-travellers leading, and I following
them, with an immense log on my shoulder, as well
as I could. It was so dark, that it was of no avail
to pick our steps ; so on we went, keeping as near the
side as possible, generally ankle-deep in mud, and
sometimes still deeper. The coach came lumbering
after us at a snail's pace, the lonely woods rever
berating to the noisy eloquence which the driver was
unremittingly expending upon his cattle. I was
about transferring the pole to the commissioner, to
whom fate had next assigned it, when a cry of dis
tress from the above-named functionary brought us
all back to the coach again. The pole had once more
to be applied before it was extricated from its dif
ficulties. We took nearly three-quarters of an hour
to get over the half-mile in question, when we found
ourselves once more upon a sandy, and consequently
a firmer part of the road. On getting in again, the
judge, who had become jocular with our difficulties,
advised us to wipe our feet before entering.

"I told you as how it would eventuate," said he,
as soon as we were all reseated ; " it wasn't with my
eyes shut that I passed through these diggin's afore."

"I reckon not,'* said the commissioner, rendering
tardy homage to his companion's superior topogra
phical knowledge.

The road, although it fulfilled none of the con
ditions to a good one, was now for some miles much
better than that which we had passed over. It was still
rough, but we were not every now and then brought
to a halt in the midst of quagmires as before. The

THE WESTERN WORLD. 2.21

jolting of the vehicle, whenever the horses for a few
paces ventured upon a trot, was terrific, throwing us
about in every way, against each other, and some
times against the roof. One of these jolts sent
me upwards with such force as to knock my hat
over my eyes. As I was extricating myself from
my dilemma, the judge remarked that a hat was
rather an " onpleasant convenience" to travel with in
a stage ; a proposition which I had neither reason
nor inclination to dispute. I immediately put mine
in the straps above me, but the next jolt nearly sending
my head through the crown of it, I was fain, for the
rest of the road, to carry it on my knee.

By this time the judge and the commissioner had
waxed very hot on politics, the latter being a Whig,
and the former a Democrat of the purest water. So
long as they confined themselves to topics of a gene
ral interest I listened, and was both interested and
amused ; but as soon as they descended into matters
peculiarly appertaining to their own State, my atten
tion flagged, and I soon fell into that listless state
in which one hears everything without comprehend
ing anything.

I had observed that ever since our re-entering the
coach, the passenger directly opposite me, one of the
three who, as I supposed, occupied the front seat,
with their backs to the horses, paid particular atten
tion to the position of my boots ; for, not having got
out himself in the time of our difficulty, he was not
disposed to go shares in the mud with which our
extremities were bedaubed on re-entering. Finding
him, at length, very sensitive to the slightest touch
from me, I proposed, for our mutual accommodation,
a settlement of legs such as would serve until our

222 THE WESTERN WORLD.

arrival at Macon. This was at once assented to, not
by the man opposite me, but by the man in the middle
of the seat. I was puzzled to know how a limb of
his could become involved with, mine, as I was also to
ascertain how my fellow-passenger opposite had dis
posed of his. The arrangement proposed, however,
took place to our mutual satisfaction, but my sur
prise was not lessened when, on addressing a com
mon-place remark, apropos to our situation, to him
opposite me, the response came again from the man
in the middle, whose voice was not altogether unfa
miliar to me, although I could not then recall to
mind whose it was, or where 1 had heard it before.

At length day began slowly to dawn behind us, and
as the grey light gradually invested objects with a
more distinct outline, I could better understand the
character of the road over which we were dragged and
jolted, at the rate of about four miles an hour. It
was artistic enough in the manner in which, it had
been engineered, but its long straight vistas were
wearisome to the eye. It was about sixty feet in
breadth, and in those places where it was least sandy-
it appeared to have been recently ploughed. Indeed,
as I afterwards ascertained, the roads both in Canada
and the United States become sometimes so bad and
impracticable, that they are decidedly improved by
the operation of ploughing. On seeing it in daylight,
my wonder was not that we had been delayed and
inconvenienced on the way, but that we managed to
make any progress whatever along this great southern
highway. It is but just, however, to say, that its
then wretched condition was greatly attributable to the
previous wet weather ; for I afterwards found that
during a long succession of dry weather, these crude

THE WESTERN WOULD. 223

American roads were delightful to travel over, after
a gentle summer shower had fallen to keep down the
dust.

The approach of day also solved the mystery
which hung over the occupants of the opposite seat-
Through the dim twilight I could at first discern
but one head between the three, and the increasing
light soon convinced me that it wTas the head of

Mr. , one of the Senatorial representatives of the

State of Alabama. The riddle was now explained.
There was but one passenger opposite instead of

three. Mr. was not a body with three heads,

but he was a head with three bodies, or with one
which was tantamount to three, for he almost en
tirely fill the seat. In the Senate, as already
noticed, his seat was more like a form than a chair,
which it purported to be ; and he was familiarly
known as the man of greatest weight in that body.
As soon as I was sure of his identity, I accosted him,
as I had frequently had the pleasure of enjoying his
society at Washington. He was one of the bulkiest
men I ever beheld ; but his enormous physical pro
portions did not hamper his mind, which was cool
and clear. He was a true southerner in politics,
being an ardent free-trader, and a staunch follower of
Mr. Calhoun. I had often wondered how he could
exist under the hot suns of Alabama, but he had a
preference for the State, and said he enjoyed life
in it as well as anywhere else. The wretched state
of the road, and our night experiences of it, soon
very naturally turned our conversation upon the sub
ject of railways ; and from what I then gathered from
him in reference thereto, as well as from my own
previous observations, I shall now, with the reader's

4

224 THE WESTERN WORLD.

permission, give a brief sketch of the rise, develop
ment and extent of the railway system in America.

The stranger meets with nothing in the New
World more calculated to excite his astonishment
than the rapidity and extent with and to which all
the improvements of this ingenious and progressive
age are there applied to the various purposes of social
life. Our cousins beyond the Atlantic are no
dreamers, they are in haste to be practical; whatever
is both new and useful they at once adopt, adapting
it, in its application, to their own circumstances and
necessities. Nor is theirs an imitation which springs
from servility ; it begins in generous emulation, and
not unfrequently ends in successful rivalry.

It was not to be expected that a railway could be
long in successful operation in this country before it
was extensively imitated in the United States. If the
advantages of such a system of communication were
obvious as regarded this country, they were much
more so as regarded America, considering not only
the distances by which its more important points
were separated from each other, but also the inferior
nature of their means of intercommunication, when
so situated with reference to each other that steam
boats could not ply between them. Before the in
troduction of railways into America, canals formed
the only decent means of communication, between
such points as lay neither upon the coast, the lakes,
nor on the margin of great rivers. On these canals the
maximum rate of speed seldom exceeded four miles
an hour ; so that if long journeys could be performed
by their means without broken bones, or a serious
wear and tear of the system, they could only be
accomplished at great expense, and with a great loss

THE WESTERN WORLD. 225

of time. All this contributed to make distances as
much the curse of the United States as they are
said to be of Russia ; and it is no wonder that our
enterprising kinsfolk eagerly availed themselves of a
discovery, the adaptation of which to their wants was
as practicable as it was obvious, inasmuch as in
travelling it would not only greatly diminish ex
pense, but save much time, by almost annihilating
space. In addition to this, the Americans have ever
been a people peculiarly addicted to locomotion ; so
that, whilst the introduction of railways was a wel
come event, everything conspired to accelerate their
multiplication in the United States.

The extent to which the railway system has already
developed itself there is truly surprising ; whilst the
schemes which are as yet only projected, are on a
scale of vastness utterly bewildering to those who
are unacquainted with the nature, the capacities, and
the wants of the country. But it is not my intention
to trouble the reader with any detail as to the pro
jected schemes, my sole object being here to give
him, as it were, a picture of the system as already
completed and in operation.

The railways of America as already completed
divide themselves into three great systems, corre
sponding with the great natural features of the
country. The first, and most northerly of these
systems, is that which permeates the valley of the St.
Lawrence ; the next, that which follows the course
of the great sea-coast region, lying between the
Atlantic and the Alleganies ; and the third being
collateral to that last named, and diverging from it
principally through the defiles of the Alleganies to the
valley of the Mississipi. The most northerly branch
L3

226 THE WESTERN WORLD.

of the system, first named, is that leading from Port
land, on the coast of Maine, to Montreal, the capital
of Canada. The moiety of this line falls within the
limits of Canada, but I class it amongst American
railways belonging to the St. Lawrence system,
although one of its termini may be in a different
jurisdiction. We have then, a considerable distance
to the south of this, the great line leading from Bos
ton to Buffalo, a distance of nearly 550 miles. It is
true, that the greater portion of this line is within
the territory of New England, and the valley of the
Mohawk immediately to the \\est of it; that por
tion of it alone which lies beyond the small lakes
which divide eastern from western New York, being
strictly within the basin of the St. Lawrence. But
from Boston to Buffalo is one great system of railway
communication, which will yet receive its chief deve
lopment in that basin, being yet destined to expand
into lengthened and numerous ramifications on both
sides of the great lakes, in Canada, as well as in the
United States. The portion of it lying without the
basin, and particularly that extending from Albany
on the Hudson, to Boston, a distance of 200 miles,
derives its chief importance from its connexion with
the lines already constructed in the remote interior,
and will yet owe its chief value to the ramified
development which these lines will yet receive
throughout the vast and fertile districts bordering
upon the great lakes. The Portland and Montreal
railway, after crossing the northern section of the
State of Maine, enters Canada and the valley of the
St. Lawrence near the "Eastern Townships," after
passing through which, it pursues its way to Mont
real, along the low flat grounds by which, above

THE WESTERN WORLD. 227

Quebec, the river is chiefly skirted on its southern
side. It leads the traveller from the coast at once
into the heart of Canada, and will be of great service
to the province during the winter season, when all
other means of readily communicating with the open
sea are interrupted by the frost. The greatest draw
back to this line will be found in the rather dan
gerous character of the broken and deeply-indented
coast of Maine. Portland is one of the best harbours
which it affords, but in making it it is necessary to
have a perfect knowledge of the coast, and to use the
greatest circumspection. Once at Montreal the
traveller can easily and rapidly gain the upper portion
of the province by steamer, which will convey him,
flanking the rapids by means of short canals, the
whole way to Kingston, at the foot of Lake Ontario,
from which point a water communication with the
entire west opens before him. There can be no doubt
but that at no very distant day Montreal and Kings
ton will be connected by railway, as will also Kings
ton and Toronto, when a short line from the last-
mentioned place to Lake Huron will complete the
chain, pursuing the north bank of the river above
Montreal, from the ocean to the Far West. Its entire
length will be about 900 miles. The line from Bos
ton, pursuing a parallel course more to the south,
crosses the Hudson River at Albany, the capital of
New York, at which point Montreal is several hun
dred miles almost due north of it ; and proceeding
from Albany westward, along the valley of the
Mohawk, enters western New York, after crossing
Lake Cayuga by a stupendous wooden bridge, from
which point it runs for upwards of 150 miles still
further westward, until it abuts on Lake Erie at the

228 THE WESTERN WORLD.

town of Buffalo. This highway to the West is inde
pendent of Canada, passing Lake Ontario altogether,
which it leaves considerably to the north of it, and
terminating on the American bank of Lake Erie. To
almost the whole of Canada West, however, it is a
better means of approach than the other route, for
at Rome, in the centre of New York, a branch line
diverges to Oswego, whence the traveller can be con
veyed by steam to any of the Canadian ports on Lake
Ontario. From the city of Rochester also, through
which the railway passes, he can proceed by the Lake
either to Toronto or Hamilton, from which places
Rochester is about equidistant ; or he may leave
the main line at Lockport, and proceed by a branch
to Lewiston, from which, about seven miles below
the Falls, he can cross the Niagara River, a link of
the St. Lawrence, into Canada, at Queenston. If
again his destination be some point still further
west in the province, he need not leave the railway
until he arrives at Buffalo, from which he can be
easily ferried across. If he is bound for the extreme
west of the province, he may be conveyed by steamer
from Buffalo to Detroit, the capital of Michigan,
between which and the extremity of Canada in this
direction, the narrow channel of the St. Clair, another
link of the St. Lawrence, alone intervenes. This line,
therefore, is as convenient as an approach from the
coast to Canada West, as it is to the north-western
States of the Union ; the point at which the tra
veller bound for Canada leaves it depending upon
the part of the province which he has selected as his
destination.

Before this great system, thus developing itself, as
we have seen, on both sides of the basin of the

THE WESTERN WORLD. 229

St. Lawrence, with the great lakes for the most part
between, is perfected, a trunk line, with branches
running southward, will have to be constructed along
the southern shore of Lake Erie, extending through
the north-western corner of Pennsylvania, and the
northern part of Ohio, to the State of Michigan.
Across the neck of the peninsular forming this State
a line is now in process of formation, which will con
nect the upper portion of Lake Erie with the lower
end of Lake Michigan. From St. Joseph's, the ter
minus of this line on the latter lake, the traveller can
proceed by steamer to Chicago in Illinois, or Mil-
wanki in Wisconsin. The line to be constructed
between Buffalo and Michigan will, with its branches,
serve more as a convenience to the great and fertile
district lying between these two points, and to the
south of Lake Erie, than as a link in the more direct
chain of communication between the coast and the
Far West. The direct line between the two extremi
ties of the system will pass from Amherstburg, almost
opposite Detroit, to Hamilton, at the head of Lake
Ontario, across the peninsula of Wrestern Canada.
From Hamilton passengers will be conveyed by
steamer to Rochester, where they will join the por
tion of the line running through New York. This
will avoid the tedious navigation of the whole length
of Lake Erie, or the serious detour by railway from
Detroit to Buffalo.

Such is the railway system in the basin of the
St. Lawrence, as it is, and as it is to be. Much of
it has been already completed, but it is yet in the
infancy of its development. The main line, extending
from Boston westward, has numerous branches in its
course, both through Massachussetts and New York,

230 THE WESTERN WORLD.

which in this general view of the system are not
worth particularising-. Portland and Boston are not
its only outlets on the coast ; for, from Albany, New
York is as easily attainable, in summer, by the
Hudson, as Boston is by railway. In winter, how
ever, the river is useless ; and if New York would
retain its share of the winter traffic of the West, it
must construct a railway along the left bank of the
river.

A great State railway, extending for about 400 miles
through the southern counties of the State, is already
partly completed, which will put New York in direct
railway communication with the Far West. This line
is designed to connect the Hudson, a short distance
above the city, with Lake Erie at Dunkirk, some distance
above Buffalo; but it is obvious that, although it may
secure the city at all times of the year a portion of the
traffic of the extreme west, this line will be of no avail
to it as regards Canada, and the greater and better por
tion of western New York. The New York and Erie
railroad was undertaken more with a view to satisfy
the southern counties of the State, the people of
which grumbled at being so entirely eclipsed by the
northern counties, which monopolized the Erie canal
as well as the railways, than from a sense of its
utility. The importance of this system, even in its
present state of partial completion, is obvious, when
we consider the vast region to which it affords an
outlet ; and its value when perfected, as it yet un
doubtedly will be, may be appreciated by reflecting
that, commencing in the Far West, and proceeding by
two great and parallel branches along the two sides
of the vast basin which it will permeate, with the
volume of Lake Erie and that of Lake Ontario be
tween them, which branches will have their tributary

THE WESTERN WOULD. 231

lines diverging from them in all directions, it will
concentrate with facility upon the coast at Portland,
Boston, and New York, the trade and traffic of
the two Canadas, of the state of New York, of a
great portion of Pennsylvania, of the Northern half
of Ohio, of the whole of Michigan, of considerable
sections of Indiana and Illinois, and of nearly the
whole of Wisconsin.

The line from Boston westward, as already com
pleted, leads from that city by the towns of Spring
field and Pittt^field, and through the highlands of
New England, a distance of two hundred miles, to
Greenbush, opposite Albany oh the Hudson. The
river is crossed by steam ferry-boat ; after which the
railway, recommencing at Albany and passing through
the city of Schenectady, conveys the passenger a
distance of ninety miles to the city of Utica. From
this point the line is prolonged by continuous links,
in the hands of several companies, through the towns
of Rome, Syracuse, Auburn, Geneva, and Canan-
daigua, to the city of Rochester, a distance of 140
miles. From Rochester other companies prolong it
for a further distance of ninety miles, through Baiavia
and Lockport, and by the Falls of Niagara, to Buffalo,
the whole length of the trunk line being thus up
wards of 500 miles.

In about fort}r hours after he lands at Boston the
traveller may, by this line, find himself at the Falls of
Niagara ; so that in the months of May, June, and
July, when short passages of the Atlantic are made,
a party proceeding from Liverpool might be upon
Table Rock, in full view of the cataract, on the fif
teenth or sixteenth day after their departure. Such
are the triumphs of railways and steam!

Boston may be also regarded as the starting point

232 THE WESTERN WORLD.

of the coast system of railways. As already shown,
this city is united to New York by three distinct lines
of railway communication. Two of these terminate
on the coast, one at Stonington, and the other at
Alleyn's Point on the River Thames, a little above
New London ; the remainder of the journey being
performed up the Sound by steamer. The third line
is more circuitous as a railway communication, being
that by the Long Island railway : the only interrup
tion to which as an unbroken line, is in the ferry
between Alleyn's Point and the island. Brooklyn,
the New York terminus of the line, situated on the
western extremity of the island, is in reality, although
a city with a corporation of its own, one of the
suburbs of New York, with which it is in commu
nication at several points by means of steam ferry
boats starting every five minutes from either side.
In addition to these, a new and more direct line has
recently been projected, which, passing chiefly through
the States of Massachusetts and Connecticut, will
unite the two cities without the intervention of any
steamers or ferry-boats whatever.

The next link in the chain of the coast system is
that uniting New York to Philadelphia. If the
former, which is already a triple, promises ere long
to be a quadruple one, this is at least a double link
in the chain. From Jersey city, on the opposite side
of the Hudson, and within ten minutes' reach of New
York by steam ferry-boat, the New York and Phila
delphia line extends, passing by Newark, New Bruns
wick, Princeton, Trenton, and New Burlington, all
in the State of New Jersey, to the small town of
Camden, on the eastern bank of the Delaware, and
directly opposite Philadelphia. This line, the whole

THE WESTERN WORLD. 233

of which is within the limits of New Jersey, and for
the right of way of which the company pays to the
State treasury so much a head for every passenger
conveyed by it, is that exclusively used during the
winter season, when the Delaware is impassable from
ice. During summer, however, passengers generally
proceed from a little beyond Trenton to Philadelphia
by the river, the steamer which conveys them sailing
at a rate equal to average railway speed. There is
another line of railway which extends from Amboy to
Camden, the former being a seaport of New Jersey on
Raritan Bay, and approachable from New York, from
which it is from thirty to forty miles distant, by the
devious and romantic passage known as Staten Island
Sound. This route, however, is more used for goods,
than for passenger traffic.

The next link in the chain is that leading from
Philadelphia to Baltimore. The line connecting these
two cities, and passing, in its course, through the
State of Delaware, is unbroken, except at the Susque-
hannah, the estuary of which is both too broad and too
deep to bridge, passengers and goods being conveyed
across by steam. Starting from the Delaware, this
line crosses successively the Schuylkill near Phila
delphia, the Brandywine near Wilmington (Delaware),
the Susquehannah by ferry at Havre-de-Grace, and
the Gunpowder Creek, by a long wooden viaduct
between the last-named place and Baltimore. During
the winter season, it is the only line of communication
between Philadelphia and Baltimore. There is a
summer route, however, generally selected by passen
gers during that season, and which, like some of those
already adverted to, combines steamboat with railway
travelling. Proceeding by this route, the traveller first

234 THE WESTERN WORLD.

descends the Delaware for about 40 or 50 miles, from
Philadelphia to Newcastle, in the State of Delaware.
From Newcastle he is then conveyed to Frenchtown,
by a railway sixteen miles in length, over the narrow
isthmus which here separates the estuary of the
Delaware from Chesapeake bay. From Frenchtown,
which is at the head of the bay, he proceeds the rest
of the way to Baltimore by steamer. This is the
more pleasant journey of the two in summer, but
the quicker route is, of course, that which leads
directly by railway ; one train per day generally run
ning from and to both cities, for the accommodation
of such as wish to proceed by it.

In the short line extending from Baltimore to
Washington we have the next link in the chain, and
it is at the latter place that we encounter the first
serious break in the long and continuous line of rail
way communication from Boston. Proceeding south
ward from Washington, the traveller descends the
Potomac for forty miles, to the Aquia Creek, on
the Virginia shore, where the line of railway, snapped,
as it were, at the capital, recommences. From this
point, in a direction almost due north and south,
it traverses the State of Virginia, through Fredericks-
burgh, Richmond and Petersburg!], entering the State
of North Carolina at Weldon, through which, passing
by Raleigh, it pursues almost the same course to
Wilmington. Here, having first diverged from the
coast towards the interior at New York, and having
pursued a course more or less parallel to it for about
600 miles, it abuts upon the Atlantic. At first sight,
this would appear to terminate the railway system
under consideration. But not so, for the sea-coast
region, in which it developes itself, and the principal

THE WESTERN WORLD. 235

points of which it is designed to connect, flanking the
Alleganies, whose long and varied chain subsides into
the rich alluvial flats of Alabama, extends westward
by the Gulf of Mexico to the delta of the Missis
sippi. From Wilmington to Charleston there is
another serious break in the line of railway following
the course of this region, the passage between these
two points being made along the coast for about
130 miles by steamer. At Charleston, however, the
traveller finds himself once more on the rail, the
South Carolina railway, from that city to Augusta,
being the next link in the system. Here Georgia
contributes her contingent to this long and important
chain of communication, the line of railway proceed
ing from Augusta to Milledgeviile, and being, by
this time, prolonged still further to the westward.
The central railway in Georgia connects Macon
with Savannah on the coast, but it is to be regarded
more as an important branch than as a con
stituent link of the direct and main line. From
Macon to New Orleans the communication by rail
way is not yet complete, but a very few years will
suffice to make it so. This will terminate the railway
system in question, unless it is afterwards found
expedient to push it still westward across the Sabine,
and along the Texan coast to Galverton and Hous
ton, and across the Nueces to Matamoras ; after
which, having crossed the Rio Grande, there is no
reason why it should not yet be continued southward
to Vera Cruz. But waiving speculation as to what
may be done, and confining attention simply to what
has been effected, we find, with two exceptions, one
at Washington and the other at Wilmington, an un
broken line of railway communication, extending from

236 THE WESTERN WORLD.

Boston in New England to beyond Macon in Georgia,
a distance of upwards of 1,200 miles. Deducting the
part of the journey made on the Potomac, and that
effected by steam between Wilmington and Charleston,
we have, between the two points, nearly 1,100 miles
of railway communication. When the scheme is com
pleted to New Orleans, the length of line which it
will embrace, independently of branches, will exceed
1,600 miles.

The object of this great railway system is a double
one — to unite together the chief commercial and in
dustrial communities of the sea-board, and to facili
tate the intercourse between the North and the South.
Considering the character and resources of the exten
sive region which it thus belts together, em bracing, as
it does, within its limits the whole of the original
States of the Union, it is not to be wondered at that
its tributary branches are both numerous and im
portant. To specify these, however, in detail, would
interfere with the general view which alone is here
taken of the railway system in America.

The third and last scheme of railways which attracts
attention is that which is, as it were, collateral to the
coast system, diverging westward from that system at
different points, penetrating the defiles of the Alle-
ganies, and extending to the valley of the Mississippi.
The most northerly manifestation of this system is
to be found in the Pennsylvania railways ; uniting, by
means of successive links, the Delaware with the Ohio.
With Philadelphia as their starting point, Pittsburg
may be regarded as their terminus west of the moun
tains, that city being situated at the confluence of the
Monongahela and Allegany, which there unite and
form the Ohio. The Baltimore and Ohio railway con-

THE WESTERN WORLD. 237

stitutes the next branch of this scheme. This line,
commencing at Baltimore, ascends, for some distance,
the valley of the Patapsco, which it leaves for that of
the Potomac, a little below Harper's ferry, where it
crosses the latter river into Virginia, and whence it
proceeds westward to Cumberland, which is about
180 miles distant from Baltimore. Here for the
present, it terminates, the design being to carry it
on until it reaches the Ohio, a considerable distance
below Pittsburg. This line is destined to be one of
transcendant importance in the communication be
tween the East and the West. The parallel branch
of the system, extending through Pennsylvania, has
about it more of a local importance than this has;
the Pennsylvania branch being interfered with as
a medium of direct communication between the two
great sections of the country, by the system of rail
ways already considered as partly developed in New
York. But the Baltimore and Ohio railway, situated
further to the South, has more of a general than a
local importance, being yet destined to be the great
highway for passengers between the great valley to
the west and the Atlantic States to the east of the
mountains, and south of the Hudson.

Of this system these are the only two great
branches as yet fully or partly completed. That
others will soon be added to them is obvious, consi
dering both the necessities which will arise for their
construction, and the conveniences which the country
affords, in many points, for their comparatively in
expensive erection. There can be but little doubt,
for instance, but that a great line of railway, ascend
ing the valley of the James from Richmond, will yet
proceed westward through Virginia to the Ohio. A

238 THE WESTERN WORLD.

great oblique line, to unite the valley with the coast
at Charleston, is already in contemplation, a company
existing for the purpose of carrying it into effect.
This line, which, when complete, will be 718 miles
in length, will commence at Cincinnati, on the Ohio,
and proceeding by Louisville, the capital of Ken
tucky, will descend through Tennessee to Augusta in
Georgia, where it will join the South Carolina
railway, which has already been purchased by the
company as the last link of their intended chain
from Cincinnati to Charleston.

If, in this rapid sketch of the railway system in
America, no mention has been made of any scheme
more particularly identified with the valley of the
Mississippi, it has been because no such scheme has
as yet been developed. Here and there short and
comparatively unimportant lines may be found within
the limits of the valley ; whilst portions of those
forming, or to form the system last considered have
penetrated, or will yet penetrate more or less into
it ; but no great scheme, having an exclusive refer
ence to the valley itself, has as yet been contemplated,
far less carried into effect. Population is still too
widely scattered there to justify the -expense of con
structing such lines of communication between its
more important points, situated as they are at such
enormous distances from each other ; whilst the nu
merous navigable rivers with which the region abounds
in every direction, amply minister to its existing
necessities in the way of traffic and locomotion.
Besides, for the present, the intercourse of the inha
bitants of the valley is more with the sea-board than
with one another, rendering lines connecting the
East with the West more important to them now than

THE WESTERN WORLD. 239

a network of railways could be in the valley itself.
When the necessity for them there shall arise, there
will not be wanting capital for their construction,
whilst the nature of the country will be found to be
such as to throw every possible facility in the way of
their completion. Whenever a railway scheme shall
be developed in the great valley, the railways pene
trating the mountains, and connecting the sea-board
with the far interior, will constitute a central system,
uniting, as it were, by indestructible ligaments, the
railway systems of the Atlantic and the Western
States.

Such is the foundation of the system of railways
which this country is yet destined to possess. It
will be seen that the outline of the picture is not yet
complete, far less the filling up. The dimensions
which it will yet attain will only be limited by the
requirements of the people. What these require
ments will be when all the resources of the country
are called into play, and when it teems with a popu
lation proverbially addicted to locomotion, and but ill
provided with other means of intercommunication by
land, it is not easy to foresee.

The number of miles of railway alreadv con
structed in the United States exceeds 5,700. Of this
aggregate, nearly 2,000 miles are within the limits of
New England and New York alone. In Massachus-
setts itself there are no less than 783 miles of railway,
whilst there are completed and in actual operation in
New York 758 miles of road. Of the New York
and Erie railway, traversing the southern counties of
that State, but a small portion is as yet finished.
When it is completed throughout its entire length,
which will be about 450 miles, the number of miles

240 THE WESTERN WORLD.

of railway in operation in New York will exceed
1,100. So much for what is done. As to what
remains to be effected, charters of incorporation
and rights of way have already been conceded for
nearly 4,000 miles more ; so that when the roads for
the construction of which companies are already formed
are completed, there will be upwards of 9,000 miles
of railway in the United States.

The population of the United States has just been
spoken of as but' ill provided with other means of
personal intercommunication by land. In England,
and throughout a great part of Europe, in addition
to the railway, there is the well-constructed and con
venient highway, over which it is not only easy but
pleasant to glide. In the United States the latter is
almost unknown. The great national road, a mac
adamized highway, leading from Baltimore westward,
and at one time designed to penetrate to St. Louis —
a design now abandoned on account of the alleged
want of constitutional power on the part of the Con
gress to accomplish such an undertaking — is the only
specimen, on anything like a large scale, of a good
and convenient highway in the Union. Generally
speaking, the roads leading in different directions
from the larger towns are macadamized for a few
miles out ; whilst between Albany and Troy there is
an excellent road of this description, of about seven
miles in length. But, with these exceptions, the
American roads are yet comparatively in a state of
nature ; each man, particularly in the north, being
compelled by law to keep them as practicable as pos
sible where they lead through his own property, the
plough being the only effective remedy for them
when, from neglect or from the nature of the soil,

THE WESTERN WORLD. 241

they become periodically reduced to a state of utter
impracticability. For a few months in summer they
are pleasant and feasible enough, but in spring and
during the " Fall," as the autumn of the year is uni
versally called, they are only to be attempted in cases
of sheer necessity. The same may be said of them
in winter, when they are denuded of snow, and frozen
as hard as granite, with their surface as rough as that
of a shelled walnut. The railways and canals came
too soon for the sake of the common highways in
America. In addition to the enormous expense of
properly improving them, there is now their compa
rative inutility, at least so far as great distances be
tween important points are concerned, the railways
or navigable rivers having, in such cases, monopolized
the traffic. It will be long, therefore, ere America
exhibits to the eye that pleasing feature of material
civilization, a network of good common highways.
The American may plead, and not without reason,
that material civilization is, in all its features, the
offspring of necessity, and that such roads will appear
in America as soon as the want for them becomes
urgent. The necessity will not arise until the popu
lation greatly increases in density, when railways
and steamers can only accommodate a portion of the
intercourse of civilized life. But, in the meantime,
they find their railways and great rivers adequate to
the meeting of their necessities ; the common roads,
bad as they are, being sufficient for the shorter traffic,
particularly if the time for taking them be properly
chosen.

In estimating what our transatlantic kindred have
done in the way of railways, we must not overlook
the facilities which, in more ways than one, America

VOL. II. M

242 THE WESTERN WORLD.

affords for their construction. In the first place,
nothing could be better adapted for such undertak
ings than the surface of the country. It has been
my lot to travel for thousands of miles upon railways
in America, and, with the exception of one or two of
the Pennsylvania lines, I do not recollect encoun
tering a tunnel upon any of them. Whether they
follow the course of streams, or traverse the surface
of the vast plains with which the country in almost
every direction abounds, but little difficulty is expe
rienced in finding a practicable and an inexpensive
route for them. The coast system of railways is
particularly favoured in this respect, there being but
few natural obstacles of any magnitude to overcome,
for the whole way between Boston and New Orleans.
Indeed, from Philadelphia to Wilmington, a distance
of about 500 miles, it is seldom that the line is found
much above or below the surface. There is some
heavy cutting in the neighbourhood of the Susque-
hannah, as there is also, but rarely, between Richmond
and Wilmington. Nor should I forget to mention a
short but heavy cutting through rock, a little beyond
Jersey city, on the way from New York to Philadel
phia. These, with the great rivers, some of which
are ferried, and others spanned by stupendous bridges,
and the marshes in Georgia and South Carolina,
which are crossed in some places by embankments, and
in others by expensive but ricketty looking wooden
viaducts, constituted the chief natural obstacles in the
way ; but considering its ramifications, and the length
of route embraced by the system, they are but few
and far between. Some of the greatest impediments
of this kind were encountered in the construction ot
what now constitutes the outlet, through New Eng-

THE WESTERN WORLD. 243

land, of the system in the basin of the St. Lawrence ;
the western railway, extending from Boston to
Albany, having been carried through the moun
tainous district intervening between Springfield and
Pittsfield. Tn penetrating this highland district, the
line follows the course of the Pontousac, a lively
mountain stream, which it crosses upwards of twenty
times. There is also a good deal of cutting and
embankment in western New York, the surface of
which is generally undulating and picturesque ; whilst,
in the neighbourhood of " Little Falls," on the Mo
hawk, there is likewise some rock cutting on a heavy
scale. Taking them as a whole, the Pennsylvania
railways have had to encounter the greatest natural
obstacles to their construction. There are heavy
tunnels not far from Philadelphia, whilst, in the
more westerly portions of the State, the road is car
ried over the mountains by inclined planes constructed
on a stupendous scale. The Baltimore and Ohio
railway, which crosses, about nine miles from Balti
more, the line leading from that city to Washington,
just as the latter is about to enter upon a stone via
duct, which carries it over the Patapsco, and is deci
dedly the finest thing of the kind in the Union, has
little difficulty to encounter in ascending the river
just named, which it crosses several times, the great
est cutting required for it being in the neighbour
hood of Harper's ferry, where it penetrates the portion
of the Alleganies known as the Plue Ridge. Such
being the case with the railways east of the mountains,
the valley of the Mississippi is already, as it were, levelled
by the hand of nature herself for the railway system
which will yet develope itself there. I may mention
here, in illustration of the facilities which, in this
M 2

244 THE WESTERN WORLD.

respect, America affords for the construction of great
public works like those now considered, that, in the
line of the Erie Canal, uniting the Hudson with
Lake Erie, there are two levels, each upwards of
seventy miles long, without a single lock.

In estimating the facilities which exist for the con
struction of railways in America, the comparative cheap
ness of land is an element not to be overlooked In the
Old World the purchase of the land required consti
tutes one of the heaviest items of expenditure, whilst
the litigiousness of proprietors has, in numerous
instances, added enormously to its amount. Taking
into consideration the aggregate length of American
railways, the proportion running through forests as
yet unreduced, or passing over irreclaimable wastes, is
very great. With us, in the construction of a line,
timber figures as an item of expense by no means in
significant. Frequently for miles the timber which is
employed in constructing one in America, is that
which is cleared away to make room for it in the
forest. Indeed, in the construction of any line it is
seldom that the Americans have to look far, or to
pay much for timber. Its abundance and cheapness
frequently lead to a solidity in the formation of the
line which it would not otherwise possess; for on
many of the American railways, the transverse are
underlaid by longitudinal sleepers. In their con
struction, too, there is a great saving in connexion
with iron, only some of them having solid iron rails,
such as are to be found universally in Europe. The
rest have the rail constructed of wood, the inner edge
of which is shod by an iron " ribbon/' as it is called,
about three inches wide and from half to three-quar
ters of an inch thick. This is laid down in bars

THE WESTERN WORLD. 245

about twelve feet long upon the wood, to which it is
securely nailed by large iron spikes at the distance of
about every two feet. Sometimes these spikes get
loose, and if they do so near the end of a bar, it is
not unfrequently found elevated a little above the
level of the line, when it is designated a " snake's
head." Instances have been known in which these
snakes' heads have stuck up so high, that slipping up
on the wheel they have perforated the flooring of a
carriage, and in a twinkling impaled a passenger
against the roof.

Nor should it be forgotten that most of the Ameri
can railways are as yet composed of but single lines.
The cuttings and embankments, however, have in
most instances been prepared with a view to double
lines at some future period.

These things considered, it is not to be wondered
at that there should be a great disparity between the
cost of American and that of European, particularly
English, railways. Notwithstanding this, one is
hardly prepared for the difference which really exists.
Whilst the average cost per mile in England has
been about 30,000/., that in America has scarcely
reached 5,000£.

There can be no more convincing proof of the suc
cess of railways than that afforded by their dividends.
Tried by this test, it cannot be said that American
railways have not answered the ends of their pro
moters, at least if the results of railway speculation
in Massachussetts can be taken as a fair specimen of
their results throughout the Union. The dividends
of the Massachussetts railways in 1846 varied from
10 to 5 per cent., most of them being 8, and few
lower than 7. The average dividend was 7 J per cent.

246 THE WESTERN WORLD.

This is no bad return for a secure investment, even
in a country where 6, 7, and 8 per cent, are to be
found as the legal rates of interest. Whether in
making these dividends the directors of railways in
New England have, or have not, abstracted from
their capital, is more than I can say ; but when the
above average dividend was declared in Massachussetts,
no suspicion that they did so appeared to disturb the
equanimity of the shareholders. As a set-off to this,
however, it is to be borne in mind that American
railways are by no means so durable as English lines.
They will, consequently, not only have to be more
frequently repaired, but also more frequently en
tirely removed than with us. It were needless to
dwell upon the effect which this consideration must
of necessity have upon them as permanent invest
ments.

If their durability as compared with that of Eng
lish railways were to depend upon their completeness
and strength of construction as compared with those
of English railways, they would not seem to be much
superior in point of profit to most English lines at
the present day. But the durability of a railway
depends much upon the wear and tear to which it is
subjected ; and if American are more flimsy in their
construction than English lines, they are not so per
petually worked as English lines are. Between the
most populous and important communities it is
seldom that more than two trains a-day either way
are run. The combined populations of New York
and Philadelphia would exceed 600,000, and yet two
trains a-day, from and to either city, are found to be
quite sufficient in a country where personal locomo
tion is carried to such an extent as it is in America.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 247

But these two trains carry with them their hundreds
of passengers ; as many being conveyed by them, per
haps, as by eight or ten trains in the course of a day
between London and Birmingham. By this means
the line escapes a great deal of wear and tear, much
in the way of expense is saved in a hundred different
ways to a company, an d all the reasonable wants of
the communities at either end of the line are com
plied with.

With very few exceptions the American railways,
as with us, are all in the hands of private companies.
Their management, on the whole, is exceedingly
good, the chief defect being in the want of a suffi
cient police superintendence along the lines. Were
this defect supplied, fewer obstructions would be
encountered by the trains than now, chiefly from the
trespassing of cattle upon them. But this is a fea
ture in railway management which is in some cases
rendered almost impossible in America, on account
both of the length of the lines and the wildness of
the districts which they traverse. They will neces
sarily be more guarded as the country becomes more
opened up, as population becomes more dense, and as
the traffic upon them increases.

The peculiar construction of the railway carriages,
or " cars," as they are invariably called in the United
States, has been already adverted to in an early
chapter. A carriage built to carry sixty passengers
generally rests upon two axletrees, each of which
divides at the extremities into two, so that the car
riage is in reality borne upon eight wheels. Four of
these are in front, the two on each side being close
together, and four behind similarly arranged. This
leaves a long space between the two sets of wheels,

248 TEE WESTERN WOULD.

which, although eight in number, rest the carriage
but upon two points, as if there were only four.
The double wheels terminating each axletree, the
one wheel following close upon the other, seem to
impart great safety to the train in motion ; for if one
wheel were inclined from any cause to deviate from
the rail, the hold which the other immediately be
hind it has of the line tends to keep it in its place,
unless the disturbing cause be sufficiently great to
throw the carriage at once from the rail. The one
wheel thus acts as a corrective upon the other, to an
extent to which it could not act were it much further
removed from it. In whatever way they operate,
there must be something conducive to safety in the
mode in which the wheels forming each of the two
sets on which the carriage rests are closely grouped
together ; for not only has the carriage a clumsy, an
unwieldy and unsteady look to the eye, but it has
very often to encounter, at a pretty high rate of
speed, curves which in this country would be con
sidered dangerous, and which would in their abrupt
ness be positively contrary to law. I have seen one
of these carriages drawn by horse power out of Phi
ladelphia, whipped at a trot, with its full comple
ment of passengers, along the rectangular streets of
the town, there being no apparent diminution of
speed on turning the corners. But it is on the Bal
timore and Ohio railway that their safety is put to
the severest test, for in ascending, or descending the
valleys of the Patapsco and the Potomac, the trains
are dragged at full speed along curves which in this
country would be considered impracticable. It really
requires one to be somewhat accustomed to these
abrupt turnings, ere he can pass them with cool

THE WESTERN WORLD. 249

nerves or an easy mind. I have often wondered at
the indifference with which the Americans them
selves passed one of these cranky curves, when the
carriages would be swinging to and fro at a rate
which threatened to jerk all the heads which they
carried from their respective shoulders. They are
enabled to make these sudden turns with safety, by
the wheels in front being made movable like the
fore-wheels of a common carriage. When this line
was first put in operation, some of the carriages were
so constructed that at night they could be fitted up
with small berths at the sides, after the fashion of a
canal boat, on which passengers by the night trains
might repose till morning.

In regard to luggage an excellent system prevails
in America, which might be adopted with much
advantage in this country. Every one who has
attended a large private party, or a public dinner, or
resorted to any public place of amusement in this
country, knows the mode in which his hat, coat, and
umbrella are taken charge of, and in which he is
enabled to secure them without difficulty when
wanted again. The same system of management is
applied to luggage on American railways. To each
parcel is strapped a brass ticket, having a certain
number impressed upon it, the counterpart of which
with the same number on it, is delivered to the
owner. Sometimes several small parcels are strapped
together, so that a single ticket serves for them.
Each ticket held by a passenger is a receipt for a
parcel of luggage, consisting of one or more articles
as the case may be. At the end of the journey the
number attached to each parcel is called out as it is
taken out of the van, and it is delivered to him, and
M 3

250 THE WESTERN WORLD.

to him alone, who can produce the counterpart of the
ticket attached to it. This system answers admira
bly, the little loss of time that it may occasion being
more than compensated for by the safety with which
luggage is conveyed from point to point through its
means.

There are no distinctions of class on American rail
ways, all the carriages being first-class, or second-
class carriages, just as the traveller may please to
view them. To have different classes travelling on
the road would appear in this country an invidious
distinction ; and yet it is singular that they never
carry that feeling into the regulation of their steamers,
most of which have deck, as well as cabin, passengers.
To say that all shall travel alike upon a railway, or on
board a steamer, is but to prevent one man from
spending more money on his comfort than another, if
he chooses and can afford to do so, and to prevent
another from economizing his means, however strongly
he may be inclined to do so. It would be as rea
sonable to insist upon hotels being all of the same
grade, and equally expensive or equally cheap. And
yet, mark the difference between the Astor House
and a third or fourth-rate hotel in New York ; a dif
ference of which no sane man would think of com
plaining. If they differ in price, so do they also
differ in comfort ; enabling the traveller to gauge his
comfort by his means. Why proscribe this principle
upon a railway ? Why compel the man whose notions
of comfort would be satisfied with the accommodation
which the company could afford him for three dollars
between New York and Philadelphia, for instance, to
pay four ; or the man who has five to give the com
pany, and is willing to give it, for extra comforts, to

THE WESTERN WOULD. 251

limit his expenditure to four ? The Americans view
our class system in a false light. It may have had
its abuse on railways in this country ; but it rests
upon no more invidious principle than that which
distinguishes between the inside and the outside of a
coach, the cabin and the steerage of a steamer, and
the first-rate and the inferior hotel, or even between
different rooms in one and the same hotel. So long
as all are rendered, at least, comfortable, there is
nothing invidious in enabling a traveller to regulate
his expenditure in travelling, as well as in other
instances, by his means.

The rate of travelling on American railways is
much less than in this country. The journey from
New York to Philadelphia usually consumes five
hours, although the distance is only ninety miles. The
average speed is from fifteen to eighteen miles. Fares
are also considerably lower than with us, but it
does not follow that railway travelling is, on the
whole, cheaper. For short distances it undoubtedly
is ; but when long journeys are made, a compa
ratively long time is consumed in making them,
giving opportunities for, and indeed necessitating,
some expenditure by the way* The traveller by
first-class in England pays more for his transfer from
London to Liverpool than the traveller in America
does for being conveyed for a similar distance ; but
then the former, accomplishing the distance in from
five to six hours, has simply his fare to pay ; whereas
the latter, taking about twelve hours to accomplish
it, has generally to procure two meals on the way at
least. On the whole, I found but little difference be
tween the expense, in actual cash outlay, of railway
travelling in the one country and that in the other ; to
say nothing of the saving of time caused by the

252 THE WESTERN WOULD.

superior speed at which English railways are tra
versed. There is but little difference, in point of
amount, between our second-class fares and Ame
rican fares, whilst our third-class passengers travel
much more cheaply than passengers do on any of the
transatlantic railways.

In describing the incidents of a journey from New
York to Philadelphia, I have already noticed the
chief peculiarities which attend railway management
and railway travelling during the winter months in
America.

It may not be an inappropriate supplement to
what has been here said upon railways, if I add a few
words descriptive of the progress made by the Electric
Telegraph in America.

If the circumstances of the United States rendered
the introduction of railways a matter of peculiar
advantage to them, they were so situated as to render
preeminently serviceable to them the application of
the electric telegraph to the annihilation of time and
space. In this country, limited as it is in its extent,
and with the means of communication so complete,
even independently of railways, correspondence be
tween point and point has long been accomplished
with comparative rapidity. Our railway system,
which preceded the telegraph, of course rendered the
means of correspondence all the more rapid and com
plete. Whilst, therefore, the limited surface of this
country failed to afford the telegraph those oppor
tunities for a full display of its wonderful powers which
it possesses when extended over a vast area, the
effects which it produced at its introduction, although
startling, were not so marvellous to us as to our Ame
rican friends ; simply because they were not in such
contrast here as they were there to the results of

THE WESTERN WOULD. 253

the preexisting means of intercommunication. Rail
ways must of course have greatly expedited corre
spondence in America ; but still so much remained to
be done towards their completion as a system when the
telegraph was introduced, that its effects were judged
of more by comparison with the old system than with
that by which railways were superseding it. Thus
estimated they seemed like magic, and quite as mar
vellous as Fortunatus's cap or Aladdin's lamp. There
were many points of the Union so distant from, and
inaccessible to, others, notwithstanding all that the
railways had done, that they could sooner have com
municated with Europe than with one another.
To bring these into close and instant communication
with each other by means of an agent which recog
nised no obstacle in the mountain or the plain, the
river, the morass, or the forest, was a triumph to
the powers and capabilities of this wonderful inven
tion which could only await them in a country situ
ated like the United States. This triumph has been
accorded to the electric telegraph in America, em
bracing as it now does there, in its numerous rami
fications, nearly half a continent.

To whomsoever may belong the merit of its original
application, certain it is that the electric tele
graph, as it is developed in America, is greatly
indebted, both for its introduction and its success, to
the enterprise and perseverance of Professor Morse.
Whilst some of the more scientific minds on both
sides of the Atlantic were doubting as to the applica
bility or practical utility of the invention, he never
ceased from pressing the subject upon the attention
of Congress ; until at length, and when only half con
vinced by his earnestness and demonstrations, the

254 THE WESTERN WORLD.

federal legislature consented to make the experiment;
and with that view appropriated a sum of money for
the construction of a telegraph forty miles in length,
between Washington and Baltimore. This may be con
sidered as the parent telegraph of the transatlantic
world, from which a system has since sprung, which,
from its extent and achievements, is well calculated
to fill both native and foreigner with astonishment.

The number of miles of telegraph already con
structed exceeds 5,000. The telegraph is frequently
though not always seen in the same line with the
railway ; sometimes pursuing a shorter road from
point to point, through a wild, broken and unculti
vated country, which would be impracticable to the
railway; and at others connecting places together
between which there is as yet no line of railway what
ever. A continuous line of telegraph already extends
along the Atlantic coast, from Portland in Maine to
Richmond in Virginia, a distance of 760 miles; tak
ing Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore and
Washington in its way. This enormous line is now in
progress of completion to New Orleans, a distance of
1,400 miles; so that the whole line when completed
from Portland to New Orleans will be upwards of
2,100 miles in length. Another line, which will be
upwards of 800 miles in length, is in process of con
struction in the Mississippi valley, from New Orleans
to Louisville in Kentucky, which will also be united
by the same means with Cincinnati on the other side
of the Ohio ; from which point the line will extend
again westward to St. Louis on the Mississippi, a
little below its junction with the Missouri. From St.
Louis another line is being constructed to Chicago on
Lake Michigan, a distance of 400 miles ; which again

THE ASTERN WORLD, 255

will be united to Buffalo, at the foot of Lake Erie, by
another series of lines, amounting in all to 800 miles
and upwards in length. A line already extends from
Buffalo to Albany ; passing through Rochester, Au
burn, Syracuse, Utica and Schenectady, on the way ;
as does also one from Albany to Boston ; the distance
from Buffalo to Boston exceeding 500 miles. This
makes an unbroken circuit of the existing States
Union ; the aggregate length of line being upwards
of 4,000 miles.

Within this, as a mere framework to the picture,
other results, almost equally astonishing, are being
produced. From Philadelphia a line extends to
Harrisburg, the capital of Pennsylvania, from which
point it proceeds by Pittsburg, in the western part of
the State, to Columbus, the capital of Ohio: from
which it still further proceeds to Cincinnati, where it
joins the great line in the Mississippi valley, extend
ing between New Orleans and Chicago. The entire
length of this line is about 630 miles. From Cincin
nati, again, another line is to proceed to Sandusky,
on Lake Erie, a distance of about 230 miles, where
it will connect with the great east and west line
extending from Chicago to Boston. New York and
Albany are of course thus connected ; and a line, up
wards of 500 miles in length, is designed to proceed
along the course of the New York and Erie railway ;
which, as already observed, unites that city with Lake
Erie, at Dunkirk, a little above Buffalo. There are
numberless minor lines completed, or in progress, to
which it is not necessary here to advert, more than
enough having already been said to show the extent
to which this wonderful invention either has been, or
is about to be, applied to the purposes of social life in

256 THE WESTEEN WOULD.

America. Nor is the sketch thus given, either in
whole or in part, a hypothetical one. The whole of
the lines mentioned are either completed or in pro
gress ; and, with few exceptions, all of them will pro
bably be in operation ere this issues from the press.
There are a few lines extraneous to the Union, but
deserving of notice here, as they are all part and
parcel of the same system. One of these extends
into Canada from Buffalo, proceeding to Toronto,
whence it goes forward to Montreal. Another line
runs from Albany northward, along the line of Lake
Champjain, and through Burlington, the capital of
Vermont, to Montreal ; thus completing a direct tele
graphic communication between the capital of Canada
and New York, the great emporium of the conti
nent. From Montreal a line will shortly be con
structed to Quebec ; which, again, it is in contempla
tion similarly to unite with Halifax ; between which
place and Portland (Maine) another line is in process
of erection. This wrill complete another circle, the
greater portion of whose vast circumference will
be comprehended within the limits of the British
provinces.

According to the American Almanac for 1848,
which is an authority which may be relied upon, the
number of miles of telegraph in operation in 1847
was 2,311; the number of miles nearly completed,
2,586 ; whilst the number projected, and which would
probably be in operation by the close of 1848, is
3,815 ; making a total of 8,712 miles ! The electric,
has succeeded to the iron, age.

The effect which this invention, as thus developed,
has produced, and that which it is still likely to pro
duce on many of the operations of society, are almost

THE WESTERN WORLD. 257

past comprehension. As an instance of the change
already effected, let me adduce one fact. — On landing
in Boston late in January, 1846, I hastened, with all
speed, to Washington. Travelling with the mail, I
did not arrive at the capital until the third day after
landing. In other words, the greater part of three
days was consumed in conveying the European intel
ligence from Boston to the capital. It was a time of
feverish excitement, the Oregon dispute being then
at its height, and the news just arrived being the
first from Europe after the promulgation of the Pre
sident's warlike message. All parties were, therefore,
anxious to know, with as little delay as possible, the
effect which it had produced; but, notwithstanding
their anxiety, the government and legislature had to
wait for nearly three days after the arrival of the
steamer before they were relieved from it. I left
Washington about five months afterwards, and great
indeed was the change which, in the meantime, had
taken place. The telegraph had been completed to
Boston, and the result was, that the chief features of
the European news were sometimes known in Wash
ington before the steamer was even in port at Boston !
On Cape Ann, to the north-east of Boston, there is a
telegraphic station. When in sight of this, the steamer,
by ordinary signals, conveyed the heads of her news
to Cape Ann. From this point it was transmitted to
Boston, whence, by one pulsation, extending over
500 miles of wire, it was forwarded without delay to
Washington, where it was received and circulated
ere the steamer was in harbour ! Being one day
loitering in the Telegraph Office at Washington, j
asked one of the clerks, from mere curiosity, to
inquire what the weather was at Boston. He did so,

258 THE WESTERN WORLD.

and in a few minutes the answer received was, " Very
hot, but a thunder-storm in the north-west." In
these few minutes the question and reply had together
travelled upwards of 1,000 miles !

These are but mere specimens of what has already
been done, and shadows forecast of what is yet in the
future. Already, and before the system is complete,
it enabled most of the important points of the Union
to be in possession of the result of the late presiden
tial contest a few days after the election. Formerly it
took as many weeks to learn it. The time will come,
too, and that ere many years are sped, when the
sensitive wires will extend in all directions, acting, in
regard to the body politic, like the nerves in the
human system ; when the frame-work of nature will,
as it were, become sentient, so that no important in
telligence can transpire at any one point of the country
without its being simultaneously transferred through
all its parts ; and when the news from the Old World
will have scarcely landed on the coast, ere it is known
from Maine to Louisiana, from New York to Wis
consin ; ere it is promulgated and commented upon in
all the Atlantic States, and through the length and
breadth of the valley of the Mississippi ! And,
more than this, the time will yet come when the news
from Europe will pass, almost in a twinkling, from
New York to San Francisco ; and that from Asia,
from San Francisco to New York. The two extremi
ties of the Old World will thus, one day, hold con
verse with each other by means of the American
wires! What would our forefathers have said to this ? *

* Since the above was written, both the Bail way and Telegraphic
systems of the Union have been greatly extended. The proposal to
construct a railway and line of telegraph from the Mississippi to

THE WESTERN WORLD. 259

San Francisco has arisen alike from the commercial want, and the
political necessity of such a communication. The Pacific coast of
the continent, so long consigned to inertness and torpidity, has been
suddenly transformed into a scene of the greatest activity. Populous
communities will soon arise throughout the vast region comprised
between the Kocky mountains and the ocean — who will speedily
exercise a very important influence over the whole commerce of the
Pacific. If great lines of internal communication were necessary, as
explained in the Chapter entitled The East and the West, to unite
permanently the Mississippi valley with the Atlantic States — much
more will such material links of union be required to secure the
continued allegiance of the new States arising on the Pacific. It is
the political more than the commercial importance of the project
that has enlisted so many of the leading men of the republic in its
favour. That it will be carried into effect there can be no doubt —
and its completion will hasten the time when America will become
the great Exchange of Nations, and the emporium of the civilized
world.

CHAPTER IX.

FROM MACON TO MOBILE AND NEW ORLEANS.

Macon. — The Stage again. — My Fellow-passengers. — The Judge.—
An Upset. — Columbus. — Cross into Alabama. — Koute from the
Frontier to Montgomery. — The Town of Montgomery. — Sail down
the Alabama. — Scenery on its Banks. — High-pressure Steamer. —
Accommodations. — Gamblers on Board. — An Irish Fellow-tra
veller.— A Conversation. — Juleps and Strawberries. — Emigration.
— An Apparition.— Lonely Scene. — The Banks lower down. — Fort
Claiborne. — Change in the Conformation of the Country. — Sea-
coast Region on the Gulph. — Change in the Yegetation. — Mono
tony of the Scenery. — Fertility of Alabama. — Health and Climate
of the Sea-Coast Region.— The Mobile. — City of Mobile.— Its Plan
and Appearance. — Its Commercial Importance. — Exports and Im
ports. — Its means of Connexion with the Interior. — Route by Sea
to New Orleans.— Ports of Mobile.— The Bay.— The Shores of Ala
bama and Mississippi. — Lake Ponchartrain. — Morass.— Arrival at
New Orleans.

I WAS still engaged conversing and reflecting upon the
topics which form the subject-matter of the fore
going chapter ; when, at length, after a protracted and
wearisome journey, we arrived at Macon. For the
last half of the way the road seemed to lead through
a clayey tract, well wooded, but not over fertile ; the
clay, which was of a reddish hue, being so heavy and
tenacious as sometimes to threaten to hold fast the
lumbering vehicle, as the unwary bird is secured by
the birdlime.

Macon is a pleasant little town, occupying an ad
vantageous position at the head of the navigation of
the Ocmulgee river, a tributary of the Alatamaha,
which is the most southerly of the rivers flowing
through the body of the continent, which empty

THE WESTERN WORLD. 261

themselves into the Atlantic. Near its mouth is the
port of Darien, which largely shares with Savannah
the export trade of Georgia. The plan of Macon is
the counterpart of that of most of the southern
towns, being open, airy, and scrupulously regular;
and the streets being wide and shaded, as usual, with
an abundance of trees. Its population cannot much
exceed 5,000 ; but it is entirely the growth of the
last twenty years. But this is by no means equal to
the specimens which the North affords of the rapidity
with which even large communities are conjured into
existence, it being no uncommon sight in that section
of the Union to find a spot which, twenty years pre
viously, was covered by the forest, the site of a thriving
and wealthy town of 20,000 souls.

As Mr. was to stay for a few days at Macon,

I parted with him next morning on leaving for
Columbus. The seat which he had occupied on the
preceding night was now in possession of three tra
vellers who joined us here, the rest of the passengers
being the same, and similarly situated as on the day
before. On my extreme left sat, as formerly, the
commissioner, with the judge between us. The tem
per of this latter functionary was by no means im
proved by a night's rest, for he seemed to have a
lively* recollection of the persecution with which he
had been visited overnight by the musquitos, whose
number was legion, and whose size was " onaccount-
able." They appeared to him to have met for the
purpose of making a night of it at his expense ; and
he described them as setting at him with knife and
fork, and as having eaten his beef and drank his
claret to their hearts' content. He was convinced
that he must have been " sweet eatin'," for he " didn't
get no sleep."

262 THE WESTERN WORLD.

As we receded from Macon, the surface of the
country began to improve a little, but not the con
dition of the roads. An additional quantity of rain
had fallen during the night, with which the heavy
clay was so churned up, that sometimes it was a
marvel to me how we made any progress at all. On,
however, we went at a painfully slow rate, sometimes
stuck fast for a minute or two, then released by the
horses, after they had been accorded a little breathing
time ; sometimes kept dancing between seat and roof,
and at others reeling for minutes at a time from side
to side. One of the frightful jolts which we every
now and then experienced, caused me to receive a
severe blow in the cheek from the side of the coach,
which left its ugly mark upon me for some days after
wards. We were so often threatened with an upset,
that I at last came almost to wish for one, that, on
this score at least, we might be relieved from our
anxiety. It was not long ere I was gratified. Giving
a tremendous lurch to the side at which I was seated,
the coach seemed for a moment to poise itself upon
the two side wheels, as if deliberating whether to lie
down at once or restore itself to its equilibrium. I
looked at the judge, and shuddered at the idea of the
" fourteen stun ';" so, pressing towards the left, I called
upon the rest to lean to the weather side. This they
did, but too effectually, for, on the coach righting,
the opposite wheels plunged into another hole, or
" rut," with such violence as to carry over the whole
concern. It went gently enough, and I felt an in
ward satisfaction, as we were falling, that my weight
was to come on the judge. I regretted it afterwards,
on account of the rather severe contusions which to
gether we occasioned to the commissioner.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 263

For a moment after the vehicle was fairly on its
side there was neither motion nor sound within,
every one seeming to be collecting his thoughts, and
assuring himself precisely where and how he was. At
length, the lady in the back seat found courage to
scream, which seemed to bring it to the recollection
of the rest that there was something to be done as
well for themselves as for others. There was accord
ingly a general movement of arms and legs ; at least,
of as many as were in a position to move ; an opera
tion which, unless checked, might have led to rather
serious results, as heads and heels were in awkward
juxtaposition. At one time, the iron nails in the
shoe of one of those who, but a little before, had
been occupying the front seat, gleamed ominously
before my eyes, causing me to remove my head
without delay as far as I could from the awkward
apparition.

" Lie still all 'cept them as are at the top," said the
judge, in a muffled voice, as if he were speaking with
his arm in his mouth, " and let the topmost git out
at oncet, so that the rest can foller."

As I had the good luck to be one of the upper
stratum, I prepared at once to follow this injunction.
In doing so, my first care was to ascertain how a
release could be effected. On looking upwards, I
observed a square hole directly above me, which re
sembled the hatchway of a ship as seen from the
hold ; but which, after a little scrutiny, I discovered
to be neither more nor less than the window of the
coach. In the first moments of such a boul ever semen t
one cannot at once collect his thoughts ; and I can
now recall a variety of fancies which passed rapidly
through my brain, before the window, at which I had

264 THE WESTERN WORLD.

been seated, and which was now in the position of a
skylight, was recognised by me. The illusion, whilst
it lasted, was heightened by my observing a face
peering down at us, which would have been valuable
in an artist's studio, as the model of the head of
the impenitent thief. I thought of a pirate and a
hold full of captives, and might have called out for
mercy, had I not been aroused to a true sense of my
situation by the husky voice of the driver, who told
us, in an impatient tone, to et make ourselves scarce
where we were, and let things be got to rights
agin."

" Well, I'm blowed ! " said the judge ; but why or
wherefore he was so 1 did not hear, as I was making
my way out whilst he was vouchsafing the explana
tion. On getting out, I found myself perched on
the side of the coach which was uppermost, the
vehicle lying flat in the mud on its other side, like a
ship on her beam ends, with her cargo shifted. The
driver, who was by this time perched on the opposite
side of the hatchway, immediately put down the
handle of his whip amongst those below, shouting
out at the same time, " Come, be stirrin' there, will
you !" The judge thereupon began to exhibit some
signs of life. First raising his head, and turning it
slowly round, he took the exact measure of his posi
tion, after which he brought his arms into play, and
then, one after the other, recovered his legs. Having
at length raised himself to a kneeling position, the
driver and I got him by the collar of the coat, by
means of which, with some aid from himself, we
managed to elevate the "fourteen stun'" into air and
sunshine. The commissioner was the next dragged
out. His face, poor fellow, was somewhat scratched

THE WESTERN WORLD. 265

and one side of it besmeared with dirt, the judge
having pressed it into a soft pillow of mud, which had
squeezed itself in through the window. Next came
my friend with the nails in his shoes, who turned out
to be a farmer from the banks of the Miami in
Ohio. From his position we could only render him
aid by dragging him out heels foremost, which we did.
Then came the lady, of whom for a time we had lost
sight altogether. She came up much crushed and
disordered, and on being let down in the mud, fran
tically grasped the judge, who was still engaged in
adjusting himself, and asked if there was any chance
whatever of our getting safely to our journey's end.
After pausing for a time to consider, he replied,
gravely but kindly, that there " was a chance, but
that it was not mighty promisin'." He bade her calm
herself, however, as she would get used to such inci
dents in time, as he had done.

The rest of the passengers having been extricated,
the coach, but not without some trouble, was, if I
may use the expression, got upon its legs again. We
had a long ride after this ere we reached Columbus,
but it was fortunately accomplished without the
recurrence of an upset.

As wre approached Columbus, the surface of the
country became much more broken and picturesque
than 1 had seen it at any point since leaving the
coast. The northern and western portion of the
State of Georgia, which is traversed by a spur of the
Alleganies, is generally of an undulating character,
and in many places not only hilly but mountainous.
In its rolling surface, in its rich and varied vegetation,
amongst which the magnolia, the jessamine, and the
wild vine, were conspicuous — in its pleasant prospects,

VOL. II. N

266 THE WESTERN WORLD.

its genial airs, and its pure and lively streams, it is
quite a contrast to the dreary region extending in such
monotonous succession between it and Charleston.

Columbus is but a small town, and is prettily situated
on the east bank of the Chatahouchee, a navigable
tributary of the Apalachichola, which empties itself
into the Gulf of Mexico, close to the peninsula of
Florida. Like Macon, though far inland, it has thus
a navigable channel to the sea. It is the frontier
town of Georgia, on the west, the Chatahouchee
here separating that State from Alabama. There are
some pretty falls and cataracts in the neighbourhood
of the town, which well repay the trouble of a visit.

I left Columbus, after a brief stay, for Montgo
mery. Between these two places, the country is wild
but not uninteresting. On crossing the Chatahouchee
into Alabama, it seemed as if I had passed from an
old country into a new. And such, indeed, was the
case, the western part of Georgia having been much
earlier settled and much longer cultivated than the
more easterly belt of the conterminous State. For
some time after entering Alabama my road led
through a portion of the territory which had once
been the domain of the Cherokees and the Creeks,
but of which they had been divested by means which
the American casuist may fancy himself able to justify.
Well aware that the better regions of Alabama were
before me, I was not disappointed with the sample of
it presented along the road between the frontier and
Montgomery. The land was not of the most fertile
description, neither could it be called poor. For two-
thirds of the way, it was only at long intervals that
anything like clearances were to be seen, and it was
only in the neighbourhood of Montgomery that I

THE WESTERN WORLD. 267

came to what might be termed regular plantations,
with anything like decent or comfortable habitations
upon them. On these I could see the slaves at work,
on either side of the road; their condition betokening,
at a glance, the character of their owner ; some being
well clad, apparently well fed, and hilarious in their
dispositions ; and others in rags, with their physical
frames but poorly supported, and their spirits seem
ingly much depressed. For the whole way the road
was excessively bad, and had it not been for a couple
of days' dry weather, I do not know how we could
have overcome them.

As a town, Montgomery is not calculated to leave
so pleasing an impression upon the mind of the
stranger as either Macon or Columbus. I stayed in it
but an hour or two, during which I ascertained that
it could offer very excellent accommodation to the
traveller. After arriving 1 took the first steamer for
Mobile, and found myself, in a little more than two
hours after quitting the detestable stage-coach, steam
ing at the rate of eleven miles an hour down the
winding channel of the Alabama.

Every step that we proceeded on our course to the
Gulf served to develope more and more to the eye
the inexhaustible resources of this noble State. Both
sides of the river abounded with the evident signs of
great fertility, and plantations on a scale equal to
any in Georgia were passed in rapid succession.
The country had not yet lost the picturesque and
undulating aspect which it had assumed in western
Georgia; whilst the vegetation with which the face of
nature was clothed, and which was equally varied
with, was, if anything, still richer than, that imme
diately to the east of the Chatahouchee. Mont-
N 2

268 THE WESTERN WORLD.

gomery is not at the head of steamboat navigation,
the river being navigable for about forty miles fur
ther up to Wetumpka, where it is interrupted by
falls, and between which and Montgomery the
country is so broken and varied as almost to deserve
to have applied to it the epithet of rugged.

It was on the Alabama that I first found myself on
board one of those high-pressure steamboats, which so
often prove fatal to their passengers, and which have
so ominous a name to European ears. It was some time
ere I could reconcile myself to my position, and for
most of the voyage I kept at a respectable distance
from the boilers. We had but little cotton on board,
although the boats on this river are sometimes very
heavily laden with that commodity, on its way to
Mobile for exportation, the quantity on board in
creasing at almost every station at which they call
between Montgomery and that city.

As the voyage from Montgomery to the coast con
sumes at least the greater part of two days, the
steamers on the Alabama are, of course, well pro
vided with sleeping accommodations. The saloon,
which extended almost from one end of the boat to
the other, was lined on either side by a double row
of excellent berths, in which the passenger could do
anything except sleep. For this the berths were
not to blame, the cause of it being the perpetual jar
ring of the boat, the powerful engines with which it
was provided making it vibrate at every stroke, like a
harp-string on being touched. There was a crowd of
passengers on board, most of whom were, to judge
from appearances, highly respectable; but there were
a few whose look, conduct, and demeanour, but too
plainly told to what class of desperadoes they be-

THE WESTERN WORLD. 269

longed. They were most respectably dressed, but
kept almost constantly together, there being too
many people on board to allow of their carrying mat
ters with the high hand with which they conduct their
operations on the Mississippi and some of its tribu
taries. They belonged to the class of professional
gamblers, who form so large an ingredient in the
population of the South; and, taking them altogether,
they had the most sinister look about them that I
had ever witnessed. It seemed to be generally under
stood who and what they were; and although a few
conversed and played a little with them, they were pru
dently shunned by the great bulk of the passengers.
Their gambling habits are not the only bad feature
about them, it being sometimes their delight, and at
other times their object, for reasons best known to
themselves, to create disturbances amongst the pas
sengers, which, in these fiery latitudes, are so often
fatal to those who are implicated. When the vovage
is long, and there are but few respectable people on
board who can protect themselves by their numbers,
a gang of these fellows are not only troublesome, but
dangerous as fellow-passengers. Public opinion,
however, is now, even in the South, so decidedly
against them, that this great drawback to travelling
in the South and West is fast diminishing.

Amongst my fellow-passengers was a young Irish
man, whose ready wit, active fancy, and lively rattling
conversation, went far to beguile the tedium of a
long and rather monotonous sail. He had been
"caught young," as he said himself, having emigrated
with his parents at a very tender age to America. He
was, when I met him, the travelling agent of a large
mercantile establishment in New York, his occupation

270 THE WESTERN WORLD.

keeping him in almost constant locomotion, and fre
quently leading him to the South, with every portion
of which he appeared to he well acquainted.

" You'll be going to New Orleens ? " said he to
me, as we were conversing together the first night in
the saloon over a sherry-cobhler, previously to re
tiring for the night.

" That, for the present, is my destination," I
replied.

" And a mighty fine place you'll find New Orleens
to be," continued he ; " indeed, I prefer it to all the
other towns in the Union."

" That's strange," said I, " for in more than one
respect its character is none of the best."

" Is it character you're speakin' off?" he rejoined ;
" sure there's no other town in the whole country
where you'll find green peas in the month of
January."

I could not but confess that in this at least there
was nothing unfavourable to the town.

" And as for mint-juleps," he continued, " they
begin to drink them there before winter has thought
of going off for the season in the north. What
think you of that?"

" That the sooner they begin they're the sooner
over," said I ; " besides, they have the satisfaction of
beginning them in the north when you're tired of
them at New Orleans."

" Yes, but you see you can enjoy that satisfaction
with them, by going north with the juleps," he ob
served. " Nothing can be nicer than keeping on the
track of the warm weather, and for weeks finding
yourself only in the beginning of summer, drinking
bumpers to it morning, noon, and night. Many's the

THE WESTERN WORLD. 271

time I have thus juleped it from New Orleans to
Portland."

I could not but confess to the excellences of mint-
juleps in hot weather, although I could not see the
pleasure of being drenched with them. On observing
this to him, he assured me that he was no slave to
them, as he alternated pretty frequently between the
julep, the cobbler, the phlegm-cutter, and the gin-
sling.

" Besides," said he, " I like, when I can manage
it, to take the strawberries along with them."

" What," said I, " then you have also travelled
north with the strawberries ? "

" That I have," he replied, " and nice companions
they are, to be sure. They seemed to grow under my
feet as I went along, and I have sometimes almost
lived on them for days together. Yes," he continued,
depositing his quid into the spittoon at his feet, " I
have dined on strawberries, and taken my baccy for a
dessert."

" Which could you most easily dispense with," I
asked, " the strawberries or the tobacco ?"

" That's as much as to say/' said he, "which could
you most easily give up, a luxury or a necessity ?"

" Do you place either in the category of neces
saries?" inquired I.

" I look on one of them as both a luxury and a
necessity," he replied ; " strawberries are a luxury,
but tobacco is as necessary to me as it is agreeable ;
I have chewed since I was knee high to a goose, and
will go on chewing until I'm a gone goose."

" I wish all your countrymen," I observed, " had
as ample means of appeasing their appetites as you
have."

272 THE WESTERN WORLD.

" The more fools they if they hav'n't," said he.
" Why don't they come here, where they can not only
appease, but also pamper their appetites? Instead of
living here in plenty and quiet, they starve at home
on nothing and agitation. The more fools they."

" But the majority of Irishmen who do emigrate,
do not seem to improve their condition much,"
said I.

" Ah sure, but they do !" said he quickly. " Isn't
anything an improvement upon Ireland ? Besides,
you'd hardly know them in the second generation.
My father hadn't a shoe to his foot till he was seven
teen ; nor I till I was seven. He's dead and gone,
and here I am. 'Faith, he would hardly know me
now if he saw me. How many generations would it
take to make the change in Ireland ! Why, here, a
gentleman can be made out of the coarsest stuff in
half a lifetime."

" Then you think," said I, " that your fellow-
countrymen should emigrate more with a view to
the advantage of their descendants than that of them
selves?"

" I mean," he replied, " that they should come
here for their own, as well as for their children's
benefit. If they do not much improve their own
condition, that of their immediate descendants will
be vastly bettered. But no Irishman need come
here without finding it to his advantage. In this
country the poorest man need not be for any length
of time without plenty to eat, a coat to his back,
shoes to his feet, and a good hat on his head ; for,
republican though it be, this is the only country in
the world in which every man wears a crown. Fools
they are, say I again, to stay at home eating one

THE WESTERN WORLD. 273

another up, when there are not mouths enough in
this country to consume all that it produces."

" But," said I, " your countrymen are not so uni
versally insensible to the advantages of emigration
as you seem to suppose, as witness the shoals in
which they yearly land in Canada and the United
States. Thousands more would follow them if they
had the means of doing so."

" Why don't the landlords help them?" he in
quired. " I am sure it would be a good bargain on
both sides. To the landlords, the people's room
would be more agreeable than their company ; whilst
the parting with their landlords would not be a
matter of much regret to the people."

" There would be but little love lost on either
side," I replied. " Some of the landlords, however,
have liberally aided in this way ; but the majority
have done, are doing, and will do, nothing. Irish
landlordism is an enigma which nobody can solve ; a
gigantic abortion, based on fallacy, and floundering
between difficulty and apprehension."

" But can the government do nothing?"

" Yes," I observed, " it can and does ; for it occu
pies its time, taxes its ingenuity, and exhausts its
energies, first in devising paupers, and then in de
vising laws for their relief. But it takes no steps
towards the eradication of the evil by a judicious and
well-sustained system of emigration. It shrinks from
the subject as you would from an alligator. Talk to
it of emigration, and it shrugs its shoulders, herns
and haws, says much, that means nothing, of diffi
culties in the way, interference with private enter
prise, and ends by saying that it can do nothing.
Not only is there a noble field in this country for our
N 3

274 THE WESTERN WOULD.

pent-up surplus population, but within a month's
easy sail of our poor-houses, we have, in Canada, a
rich, fertile dominion of our own, the greater portion
by far of which is yet but a preserve for rabbits,
deer, bears, and wolves. Yes, strange as it may
appear, we have under the same flag, and at no great
distance from each other, infinite poverty and in
exhaustible resources, and yet the one cannot be
brought to bear upon the other with a view to its
relief. Here the wilderness waits for cultivation —
there the multitudes pine to be fed. Yet the poor-
houses are being constantly filled, whilst the wolf and
the bear are left undisturbed. At the bottom of all
this there is but little foresight, and much false
economy."

" But why don't the country force the subject upon
the government?" inquired my companion.

" Simply because, inexplicable though it may
seem, the country is not yet sufficiently of one way
of thinking upon it. There is a set of men with no
little influence who set their faces against emigration,
calling it transportation, and insisting upon it that
England is large enough to subsist not only all her
present population, but many more. They forget
that the question of subsistence is one of pressing
urgency, and that the starving multitude cannot
afford to wait until all their schemes are in operation
for the better development of the country's resources.
The question to decide is, not how many England
could support with all her resources in full play, or
with a different distribution than now prevails of the
means of subsistence which she actually possesses;
but has she, or has she not, for the time being, a
surplus population ? If so, she should, in the most

THE WESTERN WORLD. 275

advantageous way for all parties, rid herself of a
present evil, whilst schemes are in preparation which,
at the best, can only be productive of a future good.
Besides, there are grave considerations connected
with her commercial prospects which should induce
England to raise up for herself markets in all her
colonies. Not only in Ireland, but also in England
and Scotland, there are multitudes of drones in the
busy hive, who would become active honey-makers
abroad. But the subject is endless, and we cannot
well longer pursue it, for I see we are disturbing the
sleepers around us."

This last remark was elicited by the sudden appari
tion of a head in a blue nightcap with a red tassel,
which projected from between the curtains of one of
the berths opposite me. It had two very large bright
blue eyes in it, which were steadily fixed upon me
whilst I made the observation, and remained so for a
few seconds afterwards, making the whole scene both
fascinating and ludicrous. " Young man," said it at
last, opening its mouth, which was surrounded by a
sandy beard, in good state for the razor, " it's mighty
fine that there discoorse, and mayhap it isn't, by
gum ; but I'll tell you what it is, you had better
adjourn the meetin', and give us the concloodin' part
of the subject at breakfast, you had." It then, after
spitting twice upon the floor by way of emphasis,
suddenly disappeared, when the curtains resumed
their former position.

"I fear," said I, speaking at the place which had
just been vacated by the apparition, "we have not
only to beg your pardon, but that of many others
around, for any disturbance that we may have caused
them; but "

276 THE WESTERN WORLD.

Here I was interrupted by my fellow-delinquent,
who was not disposed to be quite so complaisant in
his reply ; for, after sundry ejaculations, calling for
direct injury to his own eyes, he asked the head
where it had got " so much night-cap" — where, after
certain contingencies, it " expected to go to" if it was
"ill off for goose-grease;" and a variety of other
questions to which it was not every head that would
have quietly submitted. How long the particular
head in question would have done so was problema
tical ; but seeing the curtains of a number of other
berths in motion, I drew the Irishman's attention to
the circumstance, and he had good sense and good
feeling enough at once to take the hint. Swallowing
the remainder of his sherry-cobbler at a draught, he
expressed a desire to have "another drain," but the
bar having been closed half an hour previously, he
was obliged to go to bed without it. In a few
minutes I observed him tumbling into one of the fore
berths, with everything on but his coat, after placing
a spittoon in a convenient position for any purposes
for which it might be required.

I remained seated for some time after he had left
me musing upon the singularity of my position. I
appeared to be the only occupant of the saloon, for
no other human form was visible to me. And yet I
was surrounded by about a hundred people, all of whom
were then packed, as it were, upon a double row of
shelves, with red damask curtains in front, to conceal
them from view and keep them from the dust. Most
of them were asleep, as was evident from their heavy
regular breathing ; and this concord of respiration
proceeding from so many points, made the scene all
the more lonely and impressive. The machinery was

THE WESTERN WORLD. 277

busily at work under my feet, the water was gurgling
past me on either side, and at each stroke of the
engine the frail craft shook through her whole length
as if she were a floating earthquake. But one soli
tary lamp gleamed in the cabin, casting a faint yellow
light about the centre, where I was seated, but leaving
its distant extremities shrouded in gloom, so much so
that I sometimes fancied myself a lonely watcher in a
huge vault, in which the dead had been long depo
sited, and in which some were just awaking from
trances which had closely resembled death. And all
this at midnight on the devious current of the Ala
bama, so far from home and friends, and everything
that was familiar to me ! I was then in the very
depths of those interminable forests, with the romantic
tales of whose former occupants my youthful imagi
nation had been so often fired ; afloat on one of those
streams whose marvellous extent and capabilities had
so frequently excited my astonishment; and traversing
the very regions in which Raleigh had sought for an
El Dorado, and Soto and his followers had vainly
searched for gold.

It was not long ere I yielded to the somnolent
influences of the scene ; and, having retired to my
berth, I slept as well as could be expected of one
lying, as it were, in the hopper of a mill.

Next morning I rejoined my Irish friend at break
fast, when we resumed, in a low voice, the conversa
tion of the previous evening. Whether the head with
the night-cap was or was not within hearing distance
of us, was more than we could tell ; for, on looking
for it, we found it impossible to distinguish it, divested
of its nocturnal appendage.

I remained on deck most of the day, although the

278 THE WESTERN WORLD.

sky was clear and the sun of a broiling heat. The
level of the country was still elevated, and its surface
undulating and picturesque, the forest, amongst other
woods, containing an immense variety of laurel,
having a most refreshing look to the eye. The river,
as at Montgomery, was not of very great width, being
no broader than the Thames at high water in Bat-
tersea-reach ; and so free from obstruction was its
channel, and so uniform was its depth, that although
it runs at the average rate of three miles an hour, its
current was scarcely discernible. Now it passed
through an open country, where its banks were low
and chequered by alternations of forest and planta
tion ; then it would wind through bold and precipitous
bluffs, varying from 100 to 200 feet high ; after which
it would again take a serpentine course through an
open tract, again to pass through bluffs as before.
The different settlements which were visible on its
banks were generally situated on these bluffs, the
inhabitants building their houses, as much as possible,
in upper air, to escape the malaria of the lower levels.
In the afternoon we reached Fort Claiborne, a sort of
military station on a small scale, with a little town
contiguous to it ; and here I was separated from my
Irish fellow-traveller, who was to remain for a couple
of days in the town, having some business to transact
in it. He advised me on parting, to be careful of
myself in New Orleans ; and, as the sickly season was
approaching, by ail means to " make myself scarce"
before catching the " fivver." He was a singular
mixture of levity and soberness, folly and good sense,
and possessed great knowledge of the country, from
which I should have profited more had we been
longer together.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 279

A little below Fort Claiborne, a great change
becomes perceptible in the conformation and aspect
of the country. On descending the river from that
point the bluffs are found to be less frequent and
elevated, until, at length, they entirely disappear,
where the stream debouches upon the coast region
resting upon the Gulf of Mexico. The elevated and
rolling country from which the traveller then
emerges, is the scene of the last appearance of the
Alleganies, in their prolonged course towards the
south-west. In the northern part of the State, the
mountainous range, as in Georgia, is still bold and
lofty, but rapidly subsides into detached hills, covered
with wood to the top, in pursuing its way to the
centre of the State, after which it declines into mere
undulations of the surface ; and at last, after extend
ing in one unbroken chain from the western part of
Pennsylvania, in the neighbourhood of Lake Erie,
disappears altogether within a hundred miles of the
Gulf of Mexico. Once in the coast region, the eye
is no longer charmed with the rich variety of vege
tation which characterised the upper country, or with
its waving outlines and picturesque effects. All is
flat, wearisome, and monotonous, as in the corre
sponding region on the Atlantic coast. But the soil
in the low parts of Alabama is, on the whole, far
richer than that of a large proportion of the great
belt of land, extending from the Potomac to the
Alatamaha. Taking it all in all, Alabama is not
surpassed, in point of fertility, by any of the sister
States of the Confederation. The rolling country
constituting its northern and north-eastern sections,
produces cotton and Indian corn in abundance, cotton
being the staple chiefly cultivated in the rich level

280 THE WESTERN WORLD.

flats of the west and south, as it is indeed the chief
staple of the whole State. Both in this State and in
Mississippi, immediately to the west of it, the culti
vation of the cotton plant is carried to an extent
which has already rendered them most formidable
rivals to the Atlantic States of the south, which so
long possessed a virtual monopoly of this staple.

In the gradual subsidence of the country from the
upper to the lower level, the vegetation with which
it is covered undergoes a perceptible change. The
live oak, the laurel, the mulberry, the chestnut, and
the hickory, become less frequent in their appearance ;
the pine, the cedar, and the cypress gradually taking
their places, and prevailing more and more as you
approach the coast. The spectral outline of the one,
the lank and leaning trunk of the other, and the dark
sombre colour of the third, impart gloom to a scene
otherwise sufficiently dreary and monotonous. Rich
bottomlands, swamps, pine-barrens, and small prairies,
follow each other in dull succession, the only things
which exist to enliven the journey being the com
pany on board, and the activity which is sometimes
visible on the plantations on either side, \vherehordes
of negroes are at their daily task under a hot sun and
a generally merciless overseer. Like all the western
and southern rivers, pursuing their respective courses
through the extensive flat regions, which, by their
combined action for untold ages they have themselves
conjured into existence, the Alabama here pursues
a most serpentine course, winding and zigzagging
through the level open country, as if it were loath
to quit it, and bent upon irrigating it in the most
efficient manner. The current, in this part of its
progress, diminishes its strength, and the banks are

THE WESTERN WORLD. 281

frequently lined with long rank grass and rushes,
amid which the timid alligator may be sometimes seen
basking in the sun. The river was low and peaceful
when I descended it, but when in flood, the Alabama
is sometimes a rolling devastating torrent.

Rich and fertile as, on the whole, this region is,
although interspersed with many unproductive tract?,
it is not very desirable as a place of residence, inas
much as, for several months in the year, it is visited
with the same heavy curse which, from July till
October, annually descends upon the tide-water region
on the Atlantic. A hot sun, blazing for days, weeks,
and months upon stagnant pools and putrid swamps,
and a reeking fermenting earth, rich with vegetable
decomposition, cannot fail to produce the noxious
malaria, which prevails at all seasons of the year, to
a greater or less extent, but which about the close of
summer attains a virulence which renders it incumbent
on all, who can, to fly from its poisonous influences.
For the greater part of the year, the coast region cannot
be called absolutely unhealthy ; but it is much inferior,
in point of salubrity, to the middle and more elevated
section of the State. Even there the people, in
building their towns, find it prudent to occupy the
bluffs instead of the low lands, that they may be as
much as possible out of the reach of the malaria
during the sickly months. In the northern and hilly
portions of the State, the climate is mild, and the air
comparatively pure and salubrious.

About fifty miles from the coast the Alabama
unites with another river called the Tombeckbee, after
which the confluent streams pursue their peaceable
course to the Gulf, under the designation of the
Mobile. Along the banks of this stream the pine-
barrens are more frequent than along the Alabama ;

282 THE WESTERN WORLD.

and although fertile tracts are not wanting, they are
neither so numerous nor so well cultivated as on the
banks of the latter river. On the forenoon of the
second day after leaving Montgomery, we came in
sight of the city of Mobile, and much rejoiced was
I, after my long overland journey, once more to ap
proach the coast, as it was evident that we were doing,
from the many steamers which were clustered about
the wharves, and the square-rigged vessels which
were seen at anchor beyond.

The city of Mobile, the commercial emporium,
though not the political capital of the State of Ala
bama, (the city of Tuscaloosa in the interior enjoying
the latter dignity,) is a tolerably large and very
handsome town, occupying a most advantageous
situation on the right bank of the Mobile River, at
its entrance into the fine, spacious, and open Bay of
Mobile. The portion of the town immediately con
tiguous to the quays is about as unattractive as the
corresponding parts of most seaport towns are found
to be, the streets being, for the most part, narrow,
ill-ventilated, and not over clean. Behind them,
however, the town developes itself in a very different
aspect, the portion of it which lies back from the
river being situated on a gentle acclivity, command
ing from many points, a good view of the harbour,
and affording every opportunity for the regularity of
plan with which this part of it is characterised. The
main streets are long and broad, well shaded by trees,
and admirably paved. Nothing can be conceived
cleaner and more comfortable than this section of
the town, attention to cleanliness having been ren
dered indispensable from the fatality with which the
yellow fever used to visit Mobile. A great many of
its private, as well as most of its public edifices, are

THE WESTERN WORLD. 283

constructed of brick, but the bulk of the town is
built of wood. Some years ago a destructive fire
laid one-third of it in ashes ; but it has since reco
vered from the effects of this terrible visitation. It
would be difficult to find anywhere a more hospitable
set of people than the better portion of the popula
tion of Mobile, although a large proportion of the
lower orders are prone to a dissoluteness of manners
equal to that characteristic of the corresponding
classes of the more immoral of European capitals.
The situation of the town is, on the whole, very
favourable to health, from the nature of the site
which it occupies, and the open, airy bay at the
head of which it stands. The attention which has
recently been paid to cleanliness has very much
diminished the amount of disease and mortality
which formerly prevailed in it. The country around
is, in most directions, sandy and dry, covered with
pine, and cedar, and oak, the tract immediately con
tiguous to the town being dotted with the villas and
country residences of the wealthier class of its inha
bitants.

The hotels in Mobile are on a most extensive
and sumptuous scale, scarcely surpassed by any of
those in New York, Boston, or Philadelphia. The
population of the town may now be taken at about
30,000, of which number not more than one-half
are whites, the remainder being slaves ; for the
free coloured population of the town is too insigni
ficant in point of number to be taken into the
account. In the character of a portion of the popu
lation, as well as in other circumstances, the stranger
can see proofs of the comparatively recent annexation
of this portion of the country to the Republican con-

284 THE WESTERN WORLD.

federacy. It was only as late as 1813 that it was
transferred by Spain to the Union, about ten years
after the purchase of Louisiana from the French.
The existence of a Royal-street in Mobile, and of a
Rue Royale in New Orleans, is of itself indicative
of these two places having remained more or less
under monarchical rule until the furor of the Ame
rican revolution was over, during the prevalence of
which every King-street, King-alley, King-court,
and King-lane within the then limits of the Union,
received names more in accordance with the domi
nant ideas of the time.

Mobile is a place of great commercial activity,
being, after New Orleans, the most important Ame
rican seaport on the Gulf of Mexico. Cotton is, of
course, the staple article of its export ; its import
trade being large, but much below that which it trans
acts in the way of exportation. It now ships more
cotton for the North, and for Europe, than either
Charleston or Savannah, and bids fair soon immea
surably to out-distance, as a commercial emporium,
both of these places. The cotton shipped from Mo
bile is chiefly the growth of South Alabama, that is
to say, about two- thirds the entire crop of the State.
It also ships a great deal that is grown in the south
eastern section of Mississippi ; a small portion of that
State abutting, contiguous to Alabama, upon the
Gulf, but possessing no seaport town of any import
ance of its own. The produce of Western and
Northern Mississippi, however, as well as that of
Northern Alabama, finds its way to the ocean
through New Orleans, that city being more accessible
to these portions of the two States than Mobile.
Though far from possessing those advantages of

THE WESTEKN WORLD. 285

position which New Orleans commands to so extra
ordinary an extent. Mobile is most favourably
situated as an entrepot for both an export and import
trade. I have already shown the capabilities of the
Alabama, in a navigable point of view, from Mont
gomery to Mobile, a distance of between 300 and
400 miles. The Coossa, again, is navigable from
Montgomery to Wetuinpka, about forty miles further
north ; so that the line of internal navigation from
Wetuinpka to Mobile, taking Montgomery in the
way, may be stated as exceeding 400 miles. The
richness and capabilities of the different regions
through which it flows have already been described.
The other chief river of Alabama is the Tombeckbee,
which is navigable for steamers of but small draught
to Columbus in the State of Mississippi. Tuscaloosa,
the capital of Alabama, is situated upon a tributary
of this river, called the Black Warrior, which is
navigable up to the city for small steamers. The
district through which the Tombeckbee flows, with
its branches, is, if possible, more fertile and better
cultivated than that drained by the Alabama. Thus
both these streams, rising either by themselves or
some of their tributaries in the north-eastern and
north-western extremities of the State, after pur
suing the one a south-westerly and the other a
south-easterly course, unite, as already stated, about
fifty miles from the coast, into one broad deep river,
at the entrance of which into the bay stands the city
of Mobile. It will thus be seen how the greater
portion of the exports of the State must necessarily
converge upon this seaport, and how admirably it
is situated for the distribution of its imports to dif
ferent quarters in the interior.

The bay is shallow in the immediate neighbour-

286 THE WESTERN WORLD.

hood of the town, so that the wharves are approached
by vessels of but comparatively small draught.
Those of larger draught can get to the town, if they
take a circuitous route for the purpose of doing so ;
for they can ascend a channel, called Spanish River,
separated from it by a low sedgy island, into the
Mobile River, on which they can then drop down
to the town. Few vessels of any size, however,
approach nearer than six miles to the city, their
cargoes being conveyed to it in barges, and the
cotton with which they are laden being carried down
to them in the same manner. There are sometimes
from thirty to sixty vessels lying at anchor in the bay,
at this distance from the town, all busily loading or
disgorging their cargoes — a sight which is well calcu
lated to impress the tourist with the commercial
importance of the place. On leaving Mobile, which
I did after a stay of four days in the town, I passed
this anchorage in sailing down the bay, and great was
my surprise, some distance further down, on finding
myself at another anchorage, with an equal number
of vessels in occupation of it. Only some of them,
however, were either loading or unloading, the re
mainder, having cleared the custom-house, being ready
to put to sea. If on passing the other anchorage I
was impressed with the commercial importance of
Mobile, I was doubly so on witnessing this unex
pected sight lower down the bay.

From Mobile at the head of the bay to the open
gulf the distance is about thirty miles. The shores
on either side as you descend are low, but the scene
taken as a whole is not wanting in effect. The chief
military defence of Mobile is Fort Morgan, situated
like Hurst Castle upon a long low sandy point, sepa
rating the bay from the open sea.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 287

There are two routes by sea from Mobile to New
Orleans, one being by the Mississippi, which has to
be ascended to the city ; the other, by Lake Pon-
chartrain, which is the shorter and the safer of the
two. The latter is of course the usual route for pas
sengers. On emerging from Mobile Bay we stood
out to sea for some time before altering our course,
compelled as we were to do so by the shallowness
of the water close to the shore. The shores of the
Gulf of Mexico, almost the whole way round from Key
west to Yucatan, are sandy, and the water shallow,
sometimes for miles from the coast. The screen of
low sandy islands which intervene between the ocean
and the coast, with but little intermission, from the
mouth of Chesapeake Bay to the peninsula of Florida,
is prolonged along the shores of the Gulf, stretching
in an almost uninterrupted chain from Pensacola to
the Mississippi, from the Mississippi to the Rio
Grande, and from the Rio Grande to beyond Vera
Cruz. These islands seem to have been engendered
by the recoil of the water, on being violently thrown
by storms upon the sandy coast.

On directing our course westward for New Orleans,
which is about 160 miles distant from Mobile, we
kept for some miles out to sea, running a parallel
course with the low shore in the distance. We soon
left the coast of Alabama behind us, and approached
the swampy shores of Mississippi, our course then
being chiefly between them and the islands. Shortly
after passing St. Catharine's Sound we entered Lake
Borgue, an arm of the Gulf, on ascending which we
approached anarrow passage called the Rigolet, through
which we entered Lake Ponchartrain. To the tourist
this lake appears merely an extensive sheet of water,
with nothing to interest him on its banks, which are

288 THE WESTERN WORLD.

low, sedgy, and unvarying, like most of the coast
between it and the Bay of Mobile. From the strait
by which we entered it to its opposite side in the
direction of New Orleans, the distance is about twenty
miles, which we scon made, the steamer on board of
which we were being of a very superior description.
The day was excessively hot, and the lake, which was
unruffled, blazed like a huge mirror in the sunshine.
It was so calm that, on approaching the landing-
place, we could trace the wake of the steamboat
almost to the strait by which we had entered.

We landed upon one of several wooden jetties,
projecting far into the lake on high wooden piles.
We were then but five miles distant from New
Orleans, and a train being in readiness for us, we
started for the city without delay.

I was at length, then, fairly in the delta of the
Mississippi, and its aspect was as gloomy and repul
sive as I had been prepared to find it. The tract,
through which the railway led, was as flat as a bowling-
green, but seemingly saturated with water. The
road led straight through a dense growth of timber,
such as is found in most of the American swamps,
the cypress and cedar abounding on either side,
with here and there some clumps of palmettos
interspersed amongst them. As we proceeded at the
rate of about twenty miles an hour, the tremulous
ground seemed to quiver beneath our feet. The
railway is short, but its construction through such a
morass must have been a work of no little difficulty.
It was dusk ere we came in sight of the city, and
seen from a little distance through the uncertain
twilight, it looked like a dark and ponderous exha
lation surging slowly from the swamps around it.

CHAPTER X.

NEW ORLEANS.

Position of the City. — Windings of the Mississippi. — Appearance of
New Orleans from the Eiver. — The Harbour. — The Levee. —
Peculiarities of the interior of New Orleans. — The French quar
ter. — Connexion of France with the American Continent. — Her
evanescent dominion. — The Contrast. — The American quarter.
— The St. Charles. — Environs of New Orleans. — The Swamp. —
Extent and object of the Levee. — Gradual elevation of the bed of
the Eiver. How far the Levee influences this. — Probable Conse
quences to New Orleans.— Population of New Orleans.— Its dif
ferent Races. — The Creoles. — Quadroons.— Its Resident and Peri
patetic Populations. — Health of New Orleans. — Exaggerated
notions respecting its Unhealthiness. — Addiction of its Inhabit
ants to Pleasure. — Commercial position of New Orleans. — The
Great Valley behind it. — Extent and capabilities of the Valley. —
Its magnificent River System. — Political importance of the posi
tion of New Orleans. — Its future Greatness. — Direct Communica
tion between Europe and the South. — Southern Life.

THE Crescent City, as New Orleans is not unpoeti-
cally called, not from the little reverence which is
there paid to the Cross, but from the semicircular
sweep which it takes along the curving shore of the
river, is situated on the left bank of the Mississippi,
about one hundred miles above its junction with the
Gulf of Mexico. Before adverting to the nature of
its position in a commercial or political point of
view, or to the advantages which may be incident to
it in either of these respects, it may be as well first
to give a brief description of the city itself, in its
physical and moral aspects.

The general course of the Mississippi being due
north and south, the stranger would expect to find

VOL. II. O

290 THE WESTERN WORLD.

it, New Orleans being situated upon its left bank, on
the western side of the town. On entering the town,
however, and making for the quays, his first impres
sion would be that his notions of geography had been
all astray ; for he finds the river lying almost to the
east of the town, and its current flowing nearly due
north. The fact is, that the Mississippi, whose
course has been exceedingly devious since the junc
tion of the Ohio with it, here makes a bend to the
left, flowing eastward and then northward a little,
after which it again deflects [to the right to regain
its southward course. New Orleans is thus both
east and west of the stream, having one reach of it
to the east and one to the west.

In bending to the right, the river forms a species
of bay, in the recess of which New Orleans is nestled.
Nothing can be more imposing than its position, as
you approach it by the stream. Almost the entire
length of the noble amphitheatric front which it pre
sents to you is in view ; the rows of warehouses and
other commercial establishments, which follow each
other in rapid succession, extending for nearly three
miles along the margin of the river. In front of
these, and close to the quays, or to the Levee, as the
spacious promenade dividing the city from the river
is here called, are numerous vessels of all kinds, and
bearing the flags of almost all nations. Opposite the
upper portion of the town, the river is chiefly occu
pied by the barges and keel-boats which ascend and
descend the river for short distances for and with
produce, and which are also extensively used for the
purpose of loading and unloading the vessels in the
harbour. A little below, you discern a multitude of
square-rigged vessels of almost every variety of ton
nage, lying moored abreast of each other, like those

THE WESTERN WOULD. 291

which occupy the Pool between London-bridge and
Deptford. Below them again are scores of steamers,
built in the most fantastic manner, and painted of the
most gaudy colours, most of them river boats, but
some plying between New Orleans and Texas. There
are also tug-boats and ferry-boats to communicate
with Algiers, a small town directly opposite New
Orleans, to give still greater variety to this motley
group of wood, paint, paddle-boxes and funnels.
Still further down, and near the lower end of the
harbour, are brigs, schooners, and sloops, and other
craft of a smaller size, designed for, and used chiefly
in, the coasting trade of the gulf. Many of the
square-rigged vessels in the upper part are coasters,
trading between the Mississippi and the northern
ports, their voyage partaking more of the character
of the (i long voyage" than the coasting one, and
their size and style of building corresponding with
those of the finest vessels afloat for any purpose.
Mid-stream is crowded as well as the quaj's, some
vessels dropping down with the current, and others
being tugged up against it — some steamers arriving
from above and some from below, and others departing
upwards and downwards — ferry-boats crossing and re-
crossing at short intervals — small boats shooting in
different directions ; and barges, some full, some empty,
floating lazily on the current. On a fine morning,
with the sun shining brightly on town and river, the
scene is one of the most lively description.

But the bustle and activity which characterise it
are not confined to the stream alone. The Levee is,
if possible, more lively than the river. In front of
the city, along its whole line, from the upper to the
lower harbour, all seem busy and in motion. The
02

292 THE WESTERN WORLD.

quays are piled from one end to the other with goods
and produce. Here you have pyramids of cotton
bales, some ready pressed for shipping, others newly
landed from above, and awaiting the process of
pressure. There you have rows of sugar hogsheads,
filled with the produce of Louisiana. There, again,
you have bags of rice piled in huge heaps together,
and barrels of pork without number, which have been
transmitted from the far north-west. On this side
you have flour ready for exportation to South
America, and coffee just imported from Rio. Here
are a variety of the products of the country designed
for the European markets, and bales of manufactured
goods just received from foreign ports, and now ready
for distribution through the great valley. Look
which way you will along this noble promenade, and
the eye is met by articles of .commerce, either im
ported or ready for export, indicating by their variety
the many markets with which New Orleans is con
nected, and the extent of the business which it
transacts. The busy throng of people well ac
cords with the vast accumulation of merchandise.
There they are, from morning till night, all active,
bustling, and anxious ; merchants, clerks, ship cap
tains, supercargoes, custom-house officers, sailors,
boatmen, porters and draymen. The last-mentioned
are busy with their carts, removing from point to
point the different articles on the quays, the piles of
which are being constantly increased or diminished
in size. Great is the number of these carts, and
rapidly do they proceed, as if they had all been loiter
ing and were now making up for lost time. Their
constant succession in every direction, and the rat
tling noise which they occasion, the perpetual move-

THE WESTERN WORLD. 293

ment, from and to every quarter, of human beings,
and the incessant hum of human voices, the ringing
of steamboat bells, and the hissing of steam-pipes,
the song of the sailor, and the clank of the busy
crane, all combine to render the whole scene, taking
river and shore together, one of intense interest and
indescribable animation.

So far, however, New Orleans presents to the
stranger features which are, more or less, common to
all the great seaports of the country. It is only
when he enters the town that he perceives the many
points in which it differs from all the rest. There
are in it a mixture of the new and the old, and
a variety of speech, manners, and costume, which
forcibly strike him ere he penetrates to any great
distance into the streets. The length of the city is
parallel to the river — its width, which averages about
a mile, being in the direction back from the stream.
The city proper, or the old portion of New Orleans,
occupies the centre of its position upon the river,
and extends back to the outskirts of the town, upon
the swamps behind it. Here the streets are both
narrow and dirty, but straight and otherwise regu
larly planned. The houses on either side combine to
some extent the more prominent features of modern
French and Spanish architecture, and are almost all
covered with stucco, and painted of some lively colour,
generally white, yellow, or ochre. This quarter,
which is now a municipality, with a council of its
own (the portions of the city on either side of it
being also separate municipalities, having also their
respective councils), is chiefly peopled by the de
scendants of the original French and Spanish colo
nists who occupied it before the cession of Louisiana

294 THE WESTERN WOULD.

to America. With very few exceptions, the names
of all the streets are French, the two principal
thoroughfares being the Rue Rojale and the Rue de
Chartres. As you walk the streets, the Anglo-
American countenance is the exception in the stream
of faces which you meet, whilst French is the lan
guage chiefly spoken around you. Indeed everything
in this quarter remains but little changed since the
cession, New Orleans strongly reminding one, in its
mixed population, and its diversity of dialect, man
ners and architecture, of the Anglo-French cities of
Montreal and Quebec. Strange indeed has been the
destiny of France on the American continent. From
the mouth of the St. Lawrence to the Great Lakes,
from them again to the mouth of the Mississippi, we
find memorials of her power and traces of her recent
dominion. From point to point stretched regions
of immense extent and boundless fertility, hemming
in the British colonies between them and the Atlantic.
Along the whole of this vast and concave boundary
of " New France" the French had their forts and
strong places, and their busy trading communities.
They commanded the St. Lawrence, 'the Lakes, the
Ohio, the Missouri, and the Mississippi, and some
times threatened to crush the English colonists into
the sea. But where now is New France ? Over
what portion of the North American territory does
the French flag now wave ? The first serious blow to
this magnificent colonial dominion was the conquest
of Canada, confining New France to the undefined
province of Louisiana, west of the Mississippi. This
she retained till the beginning of the present century,
when she ceded to the United States, for a pecuniary
consideration, a territory not only large enough to

THE WESTERN WORLD. 295

enable empires to be carved out of it, but possessing,
at some points, commercial and political advantages
of a most important nature. She then finally re
treated from the continent, since which time her
colonial possessions in this quarter have been confined
to a few islands in the West India seas. But at
Quebec, Montreal, St. Louis and New Orleans, in
Canada, Missouri and Louisiana, she has left be
hind her traces which still survive of her former
sway. But they are being fast obliterated, particu
larly within the limits of the Union, where everything
that is French, as well as everything that is Spanish,
is being rapidly submerged by the great Anglo-Saxon
inundation.

No one can enter Edinburgh for the first time with
out being at once struck by the decided contrast pre
sented between the old town and the new. Standing
on opposite ridges, in close and full view of each
other, how different are the epochs which they indi
cate in the progress of humanity ! The one is hoary
with age, the other lightsome from youth — the one
antique in its form arid fashion, the other modern in
its garb and aspect. Standing side by side, they make
the middle age and the nineteenth century as it were to
confront each other ; the narrow valley between them
being all that separates the thing of yesterday from the
creation of a bygone time. A contrast resembling this,
but neither so striking nor complete, the tourist may
witness in New Orleans. This contrast is between
the old town and the American quarter. The divid
ing line between them is Canal-street, a broad and
spacious thoroughfare, lined throughout with trees,
dividing the two quarters from each other, as Totten
ham-court-road separates the east from the west in
London. On one side of this line the aspect of the

296 THE WESTERN WORLD.

town is totally different from its aspect on the other.
It is true that Canal-street does not bring, on either
side of it, such distant things near, as does the valley
between the old town and the new in Edinburgh ; for
the old town of Edinburgh was old ere any part of New
Orleans was yet new. But still the contrast is very
great, as not only exhibiting a marked difference in
architecture, but also a difference of race. You not
only, in crossing Canal-street, seem to bound from one
century into another, but you might also fancy that
you had crossed the boundary line between two con
terminous nations. On the American side the streets
are wider, better paved, better lighted, and better
cleaned ; the architecture is of the most modern
style ; the shops are large, showy, and elegant ; the
names over the doors and the names of the streets are
familiar to the Anglo-Saxon ; the English language
is generally spoken, the French being the exception ;
and the costume of the residents bears a close resem
blance to that of all American southern towns. From
what has already been said of the old town, the
reader may easily infer how much it contrasts, in
everything, with the new.

New Orleans does not present much that is striking
in the way of public buildings. Being the capital of
the State,* all the public offices are of course here ;
but they are almost all accommodated, as are the two
branches of the legislature, in a large building, neither
elegant nor imposing, which was once a charity hos
pital. It has for some time been intended to erect
a capitol more in keeping with the importance of the
city and the dignity of the State ; but as yet that
intention has, in being postponed, but shared the fate

* The seat of government has since been removed.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 297

of the great bulk of commendable resolutions. Some
of the municipal buildings, though not very exten
sive, are not without merit, and the same may be said
of a few of those dedicated to commerce and its
exigencies. Decidedly one of the finest structures
in New Orleans is the St. Charles Hotel, situated in
the American quarter, and surpassing in extent and
good management, though not in exterior elegance,
the famous Astor House in New York. It was erected
by a company incorporated for the purpose, and is
conducted on a scale of magnificence unequalled even
in America, where the hotel system is carried to such
an extent. It may consequently be said to be without
its equal anywhere else. With us hotels are regarded
as purely private property, and it is seldom that, in
their appearance, they stand out from the mass of
private houses around them. In America they are
looked upon much more in the light of public con
cerns, and generally assume in their exterior the
character of public buildings. Thus it is with the
St. Charles, with its large and elegant Corinthian
portico, and the lofty swelling dome which surmounts
it. There are many other hotels in the city with
" marble halls," and conducted on an extensive scale ;
but the St. Charles is, in true Yankee phrase, the
" cap sheaf" of the whole.

It may seem to be a contradiction in terms, but in
New Orleans the cellars are all above-ground. In
other words, the basement story of the houses is
elevated several feet above the surface, a flight of
steps generally leading to the hall-door. This con
trivance is evidently the result of necessity, for if they
dug into the swampy ground, they would have wells
and water-pools instead of cellars.
0 3

298 THE WESTERN WORLD.

There are some very elegant and attractive looking
residences in the immediate vicinity of the town.
They are surrounded, for the most part, by gardens,
rich with the perfume of the magnolia, and shaded
with orange groves and a great variety of other trees.
These houses are generally inhabited by the perma
nent residents of the place, either those who have
been born in Louisiana, or immigrants into the State,
who have been long enough within the sedgy limits
of the Delta to be thoroughly acclimated. They are
almost all wealthy, and for the most part take a run
with their families more or less to the north, not so
much to avoid the sickly season as in pursuit of
pleasure.

Immediately behind the city the swamp extends
in one dismal, unvarying level, to Lake Ponchartrain.
Everything attractive about New Orleans is, there
fore, confined to itself. In its vicinity there are
no " pretty spots" to tempt to a day's excursion.
Seek its environs on either side, and you find yourself
still in the swamp, still treading a spongy tremulous
soil, still amongst cane brakes and thick tangled
woods, from which, if you enter them for shelter from
the blazing sun, you are unceremoniously driven by
legions of musquitos. It is easy to trace, at the back
of the town, the lines which new streets are intended
to pursue ; the rubbish, which is elsewhere collected,
being shot in straight lines, of a regular width, into
the swamp, to secure, by-and-by, as good a founda
tion as possible ; these lines, as they radiate in different
directions, reminding one of the incipient embank
ments of a railway.

One of the most remarkable objects in the tout en
semble of New Orleans is the Levee — which is an

THE WESTERN WORLD. 299

embankment extending, on both sides of the river,
for about a hundred miles above and about fifty
below the city. Its design is to confine the Missis
sippi to its channel, that stream having, when in flood,
rather a wayward turn about it, frequently overflow
ing its banks and inundating whole counties, and some
times, tired of its former courses, cutting new channels
for itself, for which it occasionally entirely forsakes
the old ones. This it is enabled to do from the soft
and free character of the alluvial soil through which
it flows, when the current is not sufficiently rapid
and unimpeded to carry off its accumulated waters.
It has more than once happened, that a planter has
thus been transferred over-night, with his family
and property, from the left to the right bank of the
river, or vice versa ; lying down at night, say in Missis
sippi, and awaking to find himself, in the morning, in
Arkansas. Some might think the change not unde
sirable. On other occasions he has not been so
lucky, the new channel not being sufficiently large to
drain the old, when he has found himself suddenly
isolated, and cut off from all communication with the
world ; an awkward position, particularly if he had
not formerly been addicted to boat-building. The
new channels are generally deserted when the waters
subside to their usual level, but they are sometimes
permanently retained.

In passing through the Delta, — an enormous trian
gular formation, with an area of upwards of 15,000
square miles, and which is the result of the combined
action of the river and its tributaries, which are con
stantly carrying down from the vast alluvial regions,
through which they flow, material which they deposit
for the formation of new territories on the Gulf, —

300 THE WESTERN WORLD.

irruptions by the river into the circumjacent country
are prevented by its being confined to its channel by
the Levee. It is all the more necessary thus to con
fine it, as in its course through the Delta the bed of
the river is being gradually raised above the level of
the country on either side. It has more than once
broken through this embankment, submerging and
devastating large sections of the country ; the volume
of water in the channel being so great, that the Levee,
though strong and compact, could not, at the points
to which it gave way, resist the pressure.

The process by which the bed of the river is being
thus gradually elevated is a very obvious one. The
fine silt, which, from the junction of the Missouri
with it, so largely inpregnates its waters, and gives
to it the turgid, muddy appearance which it presents,
is being gradually deposited at the bottom. This pro
cess, however, would but very slowly elevate the chan
nel, were it not for the annual aid which it receives
from the floods of the river ; for the material brought
down by the stream, when at its ordinary level, is
almost all by degrees forced by the current to its
mouths, where it is finally applied to the extension of
the Delta. But when the river is in flood, it is more
than usually turgid, carrying with it an extra quan
tity of material, a portion of which it leaves on the
open country which it invades, but the greater part of
which is deposited upon and between its banks. When
the river returns to its ordinary size, a portion of the
extra quantity of soil thus deposited is carried down
by it to the Gulf, but a portion of it still remains,
when the floods again appear to leave new deposits
behind them. Thus both the banks and the channel
are being gradually raised above the surrounding level.

THE WESTERN WORLD. 301

It follows, of course, that everything which tends
to confine the river to its own bed, aids the process
by which the channel is raised, inasmuch as the
material is thus deposited in the channel which,
otherwise, would be left upon the surrounding sur
face inundated by the stream. Thus the process by
which it periodically elevates its banks, contributes
greatly to the elevation of the bottom of the chan
nel. And this suggests a very serious reflection
in connexion with the Levee ; for this result of the
elevation of the river's banks will take place, whether
they are naturally or artificially raised. Except
when their pressure is sufficiently great to break
through it, the floods for about 100 miles above
and 50 below New Orleans are confined to the bed
of the river, by which the process of elevating it
is quickened, and more particularly as in its approach
to the Gulf the strength of the current sensibly dimi
nishes. It would seem, then, that that to which the
city now looks for its protection is only a means of
aggravating the evil. The Levee is now kept in
repair by dues which are exclusively appropriated to
it; but it must not only be kept in repair, but gradu
ally elevated, as the bed of the river rises. The level
of the city is already several feet below the surface of
the river at high water, so that every year would seem
to increase the disadvantages of its position. Already
it is difficult, if not impossible, to drain the town
into the river ; but the time will yet come when it
will be clearly impossible to do so. Its only resource
then will be to be drained into Lake Ponchartrain.
But New Orleans runs another very serious risk from
this constant elevation of the channel of the river,
and that is, that, some day or other, the Mississippi

302 THE WESTERN WORLD.

will desert it altogether. The higher the channel
rises, the more will the current diminish in strength,
and the more, consequently, in flood-time, will the
waters accumulate above. So much will this yet be
the case, that the want of sufficient current in the
lower part of the river to drain the channel above
will virtually operate as an impediment to the stream,
which will then accumulate to such a degree at some
point above the Levee as to enable it to break
through all obstacles, and seek an entirely new chan
nel to the Gulf. It is, therefore, not improbable that
the present course of the stream may yet be traced
by a long and devious ridge running across the
Delta, whilst the Mississippi is finding a readier out
let through Lake Ponchartrain to the Gulf.*

There are few towns on the surface of the globe
possessing such a medley of population as New
Orleans. There are five distinct bases to the mixed
race that inhabits it — the Anglo-American, the
French, the Spanish, the African, and the Indian.
Not only is each of these to be found in it unmixed
with any other, but they are all commingled, the one
with the other, in a variety of ways and in inter
minable degrees. The bulk of the population, how
ever, at present consists of Anglo-Americans and
French Creoles ; the former having no blood in their
veins but that of the Saxon, and the latter having in it
a small admixture of the American and the Spanish,
but none other. But the majority of the Creole popu
lation are of pure French extraction, natives of Loui
siana ; a small proportion of them having in their
veins the yet unadulterated blood of Castile, and still

* The city has, since, been inundated for weeks, and threatened
with destruction by an irruption of the river.

THE WESTERN WOULD. 303

speaking the Spanish language ; and the remainder,
also a small proportion, being, as already said, a
mixture of the French and Spanish blood. The
African race does not preponderate in point of num
bers in New Orleans, but it constitutes not far from
fifty per cent, of the entire population. Of these
not more than one-sixth are free blacks, no less than
two-fifths of the whole population of New Orleans
being still held in bondage. The pure Indians are
exceedingly few in number, as happily is also the
mixed breed between the Indian and the negro,
which forms so large and so degraded a proportion of
the population of the Mexican confederacy. The
mulatto, and the many shades which succeed, and
also the mixed white and Indian race, are much more
common, the latter being in smaller proportion,
however, than the former. The race partly partaking
of the blood of the aborigines is not a despised one
in America ; whilst that inheriting, in the smallest
appreciable degree, the blood of the African, is put
universally under the ban of society. Unfortunately,
even when colour ceases to designate the inheritor of
negro blood, it leaves upon the features apparently
ineradicable traces to betray it. Their antipathy is
kept alive by the whites long after every thing that
may be considered repulsive in the negro has dis
appeared by successive infusions of white blood into
his veins. Lovelier women than the quadroons,
those removed in the fourth degree from the negro,
are nowhere to be found. The exaggerations of the
negro form are softened down in them into those
graceful curves which give roundness and elegance
to the shape ; the woolly and crispy hair is superseded
by a luxuriant growth of long, straight, and silken

304 THE WESTERN WORLD.

tresses ; the eye is black, large, round, liquid, and
languishing, whilst the huge flat features of the
negro are modified into a contour embodying rather
a voluptuous expression. The complexion is beau
tiful and well befitting the sunny south, a slight
shade underlying the transparent skin, whilst on the
cheek a bright carnation intervenes between the two.
Despite all their charms, however, they are a pro
scribed race, living only to minister to the sensualities
of those who will not elevate them to an equality with
themselves. It is astonishing to witness the degree
to which they are seemingly reconciled to their fate.
From their infancy they learn that there is but one
course of life before them, and as they reach maturer
years they glide into it without either struggle or
reluctance.

The inhabitants of New Orleans may be again
divided into its resident and its peripatetic popula^
tion. The former include the Creoles — few of whom,
being natives of the town, ever leave it ; and the
negroes, and the mixed races, who have no option but
to remain. The latter, the transitory population, are
chiefly composed of the Anglo-Americans ; a small
proportion of whom are natives of the city, and the
bulk of them abandoning it on the approach of the
sickly season. A little more than one-fifth of the
whole population thus annually migrate from the
town, the runaways returning as soon as the danger
ous period for such as are un acclimated is past.
From the beginning of July, until the winter begins
to make its appearance in October, the stranger who
does not quit New Orleans must be very cautious
how he acts during the first, second, and even third
season of his acclimation. The process is one which

THE WESTERN WORLD. 305

proves fatal to many, notwithstanding all their care,
fevers of a severe bilious type carrying hundreds off,
even when the great scourge, the yellow fever, is not
at work. There is, however, a very exaggerated
notion abroad of the unhealthiness of New Orleans.
It will have been seen that the annual migration to
escape disease is a feature as common to social life
throughout the whole sea-coast region, extending
from the Potomac to Florida, as it is to that of New
Orleans. It is true, that in the case of New Orleans
is to be superadded the almost annual visitation of
the dreadful epidemic which sometimes creates such
havoc in the midst of it; but even this sometimes
creeps far up along the coast, proving itself as fatal
elsewhere as in New Orleans. Whilst the yellow
lever has been in New York and Philadelphia, there
have been of late, seasons during which it has not
made its appearance in New Orleans. Much is annu
ally being done in the way of cleaning, draining, and
ventilating the town, for the purpose of entirely
averting it? or of modifying its virulence when it
visits it. The good effects of this have already made
themselves manifest, and the inhabitants are not with
out hope that the time is not far distant when its
visitations will, instead of being regular, be few and
far between. They will then only have to cope with
the ordinary autumn fevers, which are as common to
the whole sea-coast region as they are to the delta of
the Mississippi.

The process of acclimation is undoubtedly a peril
ous one, but so it would be on the lower parts of
the James River. There, however, parties are not
compelled to undergo it; but in New Orleans the
necessities of business, and the temptations which

306 THE WESTERN WORLD.

exist to induce people to run the risk, make many
encounter the process, great numbers passing suc
cessfully through it. Once acclimated, no persons
enjoy better health than the resident population of
New Orleans ; whilst the natives of the city, particu
larly of the Anglo-American race, are as tall, strong,
and healthy a set of men as can be found in any part
of the Union. Much of the unhealthiness, which
would otherwise be incident to the city and the
districts in the midst of which it stands, is counter
acted by the keen winds which now and then sweep
down the valley from the north, not only purifying
the atmosphere in the neighbourhood of New Orleans,
but making themselves felt along the whole coast of
the Gulf of Mexico, being as well known in Vera
Cruz as in the capital of Louisiana.

The people of New Orleans are a very pleasure-
loving people. Americans and French, negroes, mu-
lattoes, or quadroons, as soon as the business of
the day is over, give themselves up, more or less, to
every species of gaiety and dissipation. The creole
population being almost entirely catholic, much of
the manners of continental Europe is visible in
New Orleans. These were established before the
cession, and the soberer character and severer tenets
of the American and protestant population have not
yet been able to make much headway against them ;
and it will be long ere the strict moral discipline of
the northern towns is introduced to any extent into
New Orleans. A change may be effected when the
resident protestant population becomes more nume
rous, but not before ; for the peripatetic protestants,
who form so large a proportion of the American
population, regard their sojourn in New Orleans in

THE WESTERN WOULD. 307

the light of a somewhat protracted visit, and make
up their minds, as most visitors do every where, to
enjoy themselves. The consequence is, that the
gaiety and dissipation of the place are kept up by
the Creoles and the floating American population, who
by their combined numbers and influence completely
overbear the resident section of the latter, who,
although mingling freely in the more innocent amuse
ments, having local reputations to sustain, keep aloof
from the scenes of more questionable gaiety with
which the town abounds. There are three theatres,
one French and two English, which are seldom shut,
and are generally well attended ; and during the winter
season particularly, scarcely a night passes over New
Orleans without its public balls and masquerades.
Some of them, particularly in the French quarter,
are the mere nuclei for every species of demoralization.
They are frequently the occasion of brawls, and
sometimes the witnesses of fatal collisions ; many of
the men attending them being armed, the handle of
the " Bowie knife," or the " Arkansas toothpick,"
a still more terrible weapon, being not [infrequently
visible, protruding from a pocket made for it inside
of the waistcoat. The greatest attendance at these
scenes, and indeed at the theatres, is on Sunday.

But it is now time to advert to New Orleans in
connexion with its commercial position, and the
political influence incident to that position.

If we consider for a moment the different circum
stances which, at any particular point, call for the
existence of a large entrepot of trade, we must per
ceive, on looking at the situation of New Orleans,
that whilst some of these circumstances already exist
in its vicinity, they are yet all destined to develop

308 THE WESTERN WORLD.

themselves around it to an extent unparalleled in any
other quarter of the world. Wherever we find a large
community with diversified wants to be supplied from
abroad, inhabiting a vast fertile region, producing in
superfluous abundance the articles which will be re
ceived by the foreigner in exchange, that community
must have some great entrepot, either on or near the
ocean, to serve as the medium or pivot of its export
and import trade. Behind New Orleans both these
conditions exist in preeminent degree ; and the city
itself is the result. The Mississippi valley is a region
almost illimitable in its extent and inexhaustible in
its fertility, lying between the parallel ridges of the
Allegany and the Rocky Mountains, and extending
in a northerly and southerly direction from the 29th
to the 47th parallel of latitude. This enormous
region, for nearly two-thirds of its whole extent, pos
sesses a soil fertile to a degree, and yields in abun
dance every variety of crop and fruit produced in
the temperate zone, with many of the productions
more common to the tropical regions of the globe.
Its western portion, that lying between a line drawn
parallel to the Mississippi, about 400 miles to the
west of it, and the Rocky Mountains, is sandy, rocky,
and sterile ; the rest, stretching across the Mississippi
and eastward to the Allegany chain, being unequalled
in fertility by any other portion of the earth's sur
face. This great valley, in its cultivable area, is
about ten times the size of Great Britain, and it
now comprises within its limits eleven of the States
of the Union. There is nowhere else so enormous
a surface cast as it were in one mould, and forming
one great system. From the Alleganies to the Rocky
Mountains, and from the Lakes to the Gulf, it

THE WESTERN WORLD, 309

spreads out in one huge undivided basin, irrigated
by one mighty system of rivers, and possessing but
one natural outlet to the ocean. At this outlet stands
New Orleans, which has thus a position in point of
commercial importance unparalleled by that of any
other seaport in the world.

It is more in connexion with its future prospects
than its present condition that we are to appreciate
the importance of the position of New Orleans. It
is impossible, when one reflects for a moment upon
the coming destiny of the great region which lies
beyond it, to set anything like reasonable bounds to
its future extent, wealth, and greatness. There can
scarcely be a doubt but that it will, at no very distant
period, be the greatest commercial emporium in the
world. At present it is, more or less, the entrepot
for the trade of upwards of nine millions of people,
the population of the great valley at present exceed
ing that number. In 1810 it did not possess half a
million of inhabitants. In 1840 its population as
compared with 1810 was multiplied by eighteen
times. What will it be in 1870? On the lowest
computation it will be twenty-five millions ; but even
this will only be a commencement in the work of
filling it. Without having to sustain as many to the
square mile as England now sustains, the valley of
the Mississippi can accommodate and subsist 150
millions of people. In regarding the future of New
Orleans we are entitled to look to the time when
the valley behind it will teem with population. The
inhabitants of the valley are, and ever will be, an
industrious people. Conceive 150 millions at work in
the same great basin, with a fertile soil on all hands
for them to cultivate ! They will necessarily be chiefly

310 THE WESTERN WOULD.

agricultural, for the main sources of the wealth of the
valley are in the diversified capabilities of its soil.
Throughout the whole of its northern region cereal
crops are, and ever will be, produced in the greatest
abundance ; its middle section will yield tobacco,
Indian corn, hemp, and flax, live stock, and cotton ;
whilst the cotton-plant and the sugar-cane will form
*the staples of its productions in the south. When it
is all under cultivation, who can estimate the wealth
which each successive year will draw from it ? There
will be annually an enormous surplus for exporta
tion, and an immense yearly void to be filled by im
ports. It is true that much of its surplus productions
will find outlets to foreign markets in the Atlantic
seaports, by means of the great lines of communication
already adverted to as connecting them with the
valley ; but if New Orleans has to act as the entrepot
of one-half, or even one-third of its entire trade, it
would still, in the importance of its position, vastly
surpass every other mercantile emporium in the
world, for it would in that case be yet called upon to
act as the medium through which would be transacted
the export and import trade of from fifty to seventy-
five millions of people.

What renders the situation of New Orleans still
more imposing, is the magnificent and bounteous
manner in which nature has irrigated the valley of
the Mississippi. It is not only of exuberant fertility
almost throughout its entire length and breadth, and
capable of sustaining an industrious population
amounting to three-fourths of that of all Europe ; but
it is also watered by a system of streams all navigable
in their channels, and the commingled waters of
which pass by New Orleans in their common course

THE WESTERN WORLD. 311

to the ocean. Nature has thus, without putting man,
in this favoured region, to either trouble or expense,
provided him, on all hands, with highways to the sea,
with the like of which no trouble and expense on his
part could ever have provided him. The Mississippi
itself is, as it were, the great spinal cord of this vast
system of irrigation. Pursuing its long and snake-
like course along the lowest level of the valley, it
receives on either bank, as it rolls majestically along,
tributaries almost as extensive and as lordly as itself.
Amongst the chief are the Wabash, the Missouri,
the Ohio, the Tennessee, the Red River, the Ar
kansas, and the White River, all navigable for steamers
and vessels of large draught, for hundreds of miles
from their confluence with their common reservoir ;
and one of them, the Missouri, for thousands of miles.
Ascending the Mississippi from New Orleans to its
confluence with the Missouri, and then ascending
the Missouri to the extreme point of its navigation,
the combined navigable channels of the two streams
exceed in length three thousand miles ! Ascending
the Mississippi and Ohio in the same way, their com
bined navigable channels are about two thousand
miles in length. The Red River itself is navigable
for thirteen hundred miles above its junction with the
Mississippi. These tributaries again have their tri
butaries, some of which are navigable for hundreds of
miles ; and these again theirs, navigable for shorter
distances. Thus the system goes on, increasing its
ramifications as it penetrates into the interior, where
its remoter, minor, and innumerable branches dwindle
into the proportions of streams navigable only to
the barge and the flat boat. But vessels of large
draught navigate the Mississippi, its tributaries, their

312 THE WESTERN WORLD.

tributaries, and the chief of their tributaries again ;
that is to say, vessels of large draught can, in some
instances, ascend into tributaries removed in the
fourth degree from the Mississippi. This noble
system of rivers permeates the richest portions of the
valley; its arid, or more westerly part, being but
indifferently irrigated by streams which are generally
shallow, and whose channels are frequently inter
rupted by rapids. It would almost seem as if every
farmer or planter in the valley had his own land
skirted by a navigable stream. When to this natural
is added the artificial irrigation, which will yet con
nect river with river in every direction, how great
will be the facilities, not only for mutual interchange,
but for pouring, with a view to exportation, the surplus
productions of the valley upon the ocean ! It is almost
impossible to set limits to the extent to which canals
will yet intersect the valley. The necessity for them
will be obvious, and their construction easy ; for nature
has already, as it were, regulated the levels, leaving
man only to dig out the soil. It was, no doubt, in
view of all this, as forming part and parcel of the
future destiny of this great region, that De Tocque-
ville designated it " the most magnificent habitation
that God ever designed for man."

To sum up the favourable points connected with the
position of New Orleans, it may here be added, that
it stands at the outlet of about 25,000 miles of inland
navigation ! And in this estimate those streams only
are embraced which are navigable for steamboats and
vessels of large draught. What will yet be the
amount of produce thrown upon it through such
means, existing in such a region, or the amount of
imports which, by the same means, it will yet have

THE WESTERN WORLD. 313

to distribute through it, I leave the reader, if he can,
to appreciate. I have said enough to make out my
proposition, that there is that in the position of New
Orleans, which will yet render it the greatest com
mercial emporium, not only in America, but in the
world ; for, with the wide ocean before it, and the
great human hive which will yet resound to the hum
of universal industry behind, what bounds can be set
to its progress ?

The political importance of such a position did not
escape the wary and far-seeing government at Wash
ington. Previously to the cession of Louisiana, the
Americans were confined to the east bank of the
Mississippi, and that only for a part, although by far
the greater part of its course ; its lower portion flow
ing, like the St. Lawrence, exclusively through the
territory of a foreign power. But possessed as they
were of by far the better bank of the river, which
was being rapidly colonised, not only from Europe
but also from the seaboard States, and which, at an
early time, gave evidence of what its future wants
would be, at no very distant period, in a commercial
point of view, — they foresaw that without a free access
at all times to the ocean, the enormous section of
their territory stretching from the Alleganies to the
Mississippi, would be in the position of Russia, a
country of immense resources, pent up, as it were,
within itself, and whose only outlets to the markets of
the world are by the narrow straits of the Sound
and the Bosphorus, its use of these depending, to a
great extent, upon the caprice of foreign powers.
The policy of the Union was evidently to secure a
free course to the ocean for the commerce of the
valley. To leave the mouth of the Mississippi entirely

VOL. II. P

314 THE WESTERN WORLD.

within the control of another power, was to leave in
its hands a most profitable possession in time of
peace, and one which would exercise a most incon
venient influence in time of war. The Union, there
fore, had two courses before it ; either to secure the
left bank of the river, the whole way to the gulf, by
virtue of which its navigation would be common to
it and the colonies of France on the other bank; or,
if possible, to get hold of both banks, from its sources
to the ocean. It wisely played the higher game, and
succeeded ; the cession of Louisiana putting it in
possession, not only of both banks where it had but
the one before, but also of the lower part of the river,
from which it was previously excluded. The neces
sities of the French treasury happened to coincide
with the views and policy of the Federal Govern
ment; and in 1803 the flag of France was struck on
the continent, leaving the Americans the undisputed
masters of the valley, of the river, and of all its
tributaries.

Both the political and commercial importance of
New Orleans have been partly trenched upon, as
already shown by the great lines of communication
which have been established, to connect the valley
with the Atlantic seaboard, and to bring the Atlantic
cities within the category of its seaports. But for
these New Orleans would have been its sole outlet to
the ocean. Its northern and north-eastern sections
now chiefly find their way to the seaboard and to
foreign markets by the lakes, the St. Lawrence, the
Erie canal, and the Pennsylvania canals and railways.
But to all the region south of the Missouri on one side,
and bordering the Ohio on the other, the one 1,200 and
the other 1 ,000 miles from New Orleans, the Mississippi

THE WESTERN WORLD. 315

is still and ever will remain, if not the exclusive, the
chief outlet to the ocean. The principal grain-grow
ing region lies north of these streams, but to large
sections of Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio, the
Mississippi will be the medium for the exportation of
grain ; particularly of such as is sent from the valley
to the West India and South American markets.
Whatever the eastern cities may do to convert them
selves into entrepots for the trade of the west, New
Orleans will always share in the trade of the whole
of it ; whilst to a large portion of it, it will ever be
indispensable. Should a separation ever occur
between the eastern and western States, which the
communications opened with the Atlantic render
the more improbable, the importance of New Orleans
to the latter could not be over-estimated. And
even should there be a separation between the
western States themselves, such an event would have
but little effect upon the prospects of the city. But
such separation is scarcely within the range of pro
babilities. Whether combined with the East or not,
the West will ever remain united. Its interests are
one — its pursuits one — its component parts occupy
the same great basin, and are united together by a
common interest and a common necessity. The
Mississippi is the great bond between them; its
tributaries are the minor ligaments which bind them
together ; and whatever fate may yet await the other
portions of the Confederacy, there is but little doubt
that the States of Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana,
Ohio, Kentucky, Missouri, Tennessee, Arkansas,
Mississippi, and Louisiana, will ever remain united
together in a close commercial and political alliance.
The New Orleans of the present day is typical of

316 THE WESTERN WORLD.

the greatness of the New Orleans of a future time.
It would be here out of place to enter into any
elaborate statistical statements with regard to its
export or import trade, either in their present deve
lopment, or the rapid expansion which they have
undergone during the last quarter of a century. Its
chief articles of export are cotton, rice, hemp, flax,
Indian corn, salted provisions, and sugar, the last
mentioned commodity being now the principal pro
duct of Louisiana. Its imports, being drawn from
almost all points of the globe, are too varied to be
here enumerated. At the cession the trade of New
Orleans was but small ; already it has swelled into
colossal dimensions. A glance at its population
returns will show the rapidity with which it has in
creased ; and its increase in size is the sole result of
the increase of its trade ; for New Orleans is not the
place to which people would retire merely to live.
In 1810 its population, in round numbers, was 17,000.
In 1820 it had risen to 27,000, being an increase in
ten years of from 60 to 70 per cent. In 1830 the
returns showed a population of 46,000, or an increase,
during the preceding decade, of about the same per
centage as before. But in 1840 the population had
risen in numbers to 102,000, being considerably
more than 100 per cent, increase during these ten
years. At present the number of people inhabiting
it cannot be far from 150,000. And this despite
not only its insalubrity, but also the exaggerated
notions which are abroad, even in America, of its
unhealthiness. Considering the many disadvantages
under which it labours, nothing more conclusive
could be adduced than this rapid advancement, in
proof of the imperious necessity, in a commercial

THE WESTERN WORLD. 317

point of view, of which it is the result. As this
necessity expands with the growth of population, the
accumulation of produce, and the multiplication of
wants in the Mississippi valley, the city, in continued
obedience to the principle which first exhaled it from
the swamps of the Delta, must expand with it,
attaining no final limit until the valley can contain
no more, produce no more, and consume no more.
The sense which its inhabitants entertain of its future
increase is manifest in the scale on which they have
laid out the plan of the city, providing not only for
its present necessities, but for its future growth ;
for each of the municipalities into which it is
divided extends from the river to Lake Ponchartrain,
a distance of from five to six miles. Should it ever
reach the lake, its principal front will then be turned
upon the gulf^ when it will be flanked by two harbours,
one on the river for the trade with the interior, and
the other on the lake for its intercourse with the
North and with foreign ports.

Many think that a healthier site might have been
chosen higher up the river, which would have answered
all the purposes of the present one, and made the
town much more healthy. But a site so chosen
would not have answered all the purposes of the
present one ; the object in selecting it having been to
erect it upon the nearest practicable point to the sea.
Had an attempt been made to build a city a little
higher up, it would have had to compete with an
other, which, despite the disadvantages of the present
site, would inevitably have occupied it. New Orleans
might have been built higher up, but not lower down
the river.

The South occasionally exhibits some restlessness
P 3

318 THE WESTERN WOULD.

at the extent to which the North has become its
medium of communication with England. Its export
trade is carried on directly with Europe, but a great
proportion of its imports, particularly in the case of
the southern Atlantic States, reach it through the
northern ports. What it aims at is that its import
should be as direct as its export trade ; and more
particularly that it should possess a direct mail and
passenger communication with Europe. However
valid the objection may be to an extensive land
carriage of goods, or their separate conveyance to
the South by coasting vessels, after their arrival
at the northern ports, the price being in either case
greatly enhanced to the consumer in the South —
with regard to letters and passengers it is an objec
tion which scarcely holds. A glance at the map
will show that the shortest mathematical line which
can be drawn between Liverpool and Charleston, or
New Orleans, will run up the American coast to
New York and Boston, and thence past Halifax
and Cape Race to St. George's Channel. By the
present mode of communication, New York and
Boston can be much more speedily reached by the
overland journey than they could be passed from
either Charleston or New Orleans by sea. It may
be a little more expensive, but what is lost in money
is more than saved in time. Besides, hundreds, and
in the case of New Orleans thousands of miles of
sea are always to be avoided if possible ; and more
particularly when a journey by land is in the direct
line of one's course. If in proceeding by land from
New Orleans to New York or Boston, on his way
to England, the traveller deviated seriously from
his course, it might be a matter worthy of consideration

THE WESTERN WORLD. 319

whether a more direct mode of communication could
not be devised. But the traveller by land from
New Orleans to New York, is proceeding in the
direct line to Liverpool ; every step which he
takes towards the north-east bringing him nearer
and nearer to that port. And as to the speedy
receipt of important commercial or political intelli
gence from Europe, no direct line of ocean commu
nication with the South could compete with that by
Boston or New York, now that the electric telegraph
may be considered as finished between these ports
and New Orleans. The mails too can sooner be
distributed through the South, by railways and
steamers from the North, than they could by such
an independent communication as some aspire to
establish. But, as already intimated, the question
as to the direct importation of goods, or the esta
blishment of a more direct trade with Europe, rests
upon different grounds.

Before leaving the South for the Western States,
a few general remarks upon the more prominent
peculiarities of Southern life, as they manifest them
selves to the traveller, may serve as a not inappro
priate conclusion to the present chapter. There is,
perhaps, no other country in the world where such
a contrast is exhibited between in-door and out-door
life as in America. Both in France and Italy,
where the pleasures and enjoyments of life partake
so much of an out-door character, men and women
are, in their domestic relations, pretty much what
they are found to be in the gay and giddy world
without. In England, on the other hand, where the
chief pleasures of life centre in the domestic circle,
the traveller carries with him into the world without

320 THE WESTERN WORLD.

much of the sedateriess and the reserve of home.
In both cases, society partakes more or less of the
same general characteristics, whether you mingle
with it in the public highways or in the private
sanctuaries of domestic life. But it is not so in
America, where it combines, to a great extent, the
more striking characteristics of life both in England
and France. The equable character of the seasons,
the serenity of the sky, the facilities provided both
by nature and art for locomotion, and the extent to
which, in the prosecution of business, mutual inter
course is carried on, all tend to draw the American
more frequently from his home than the Englishman
leaves his, and to cause much of his life to be passed,
as in France, in the open world without. But, not
withstanding this, he still partakes largely of the
domestic preferences of the Englishman. His life
is therefore a kind of medium between the two : for
whilst he does not live so much abroad as the French
man, he does not live so much at home as the
Englishman. Society in America has thus two very
distinct phases in which it presents itself, that which
it assumes in the world without, and that which
marks its in-door life. Life in the streets and on
the highways is therefore but an imperfect index to
American society in the proper acceptation of the
term. The distinction between the two aspects
which it assumes in the North is not so great as in
the South, the former being in perpetual and almost
universal motion, whereas the wealthier portion of
the inhabitants of the latter pass much of their time
in the repose and quietude of rural life. The
stranger therefore, who only frequents the public
places, lives in the hotels, and traverses the highways

THE WESTERN WORLD. 321

of the South, can form but a very imperfect estimate
of society in that section of the country. In the
South, as in the North, turn which way he will, he
will find a stream of people constantly on the move.
But in the North the turgid current embraces almost
the entire population, whereas in the South there is
a large residuum that is seldom in motion. In the
North, therefore, society in its external aspect is
much more pleasing than in the South, inasmuch as
its better as well as its more indifferent ingredients
mingle more frequently together ; but in its internal
aspect it is less so, as almost all carry with them into
their domestic relations more or less of the asperities
of life in the outer world, In the South, society, as
the mere traveller through the country comes in
contact with it, is by no means attractive, the better
elements of social life there mingling less frequently
in the current ; and for the same reason Southern
society, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, is
far more refined than that of the North, there being
much less of the brusquerie of outward life infused
into it. If, then, that with which the traveller meets
in the steamboat, in the market, on the street, on the
railway, or in the hotel, can convey to him but an
inadequate idea of society in the North, much less is
that which he encounters under similar circumstances
in the South calculated to produce correct impres
sions of Southern social life. A stranger passing
rapidly through the Southern States, and judging of
American society from its development upon the
streets and highways, would form a much less favour
able idea of it than he would of Northern society in
travelling rapidly through the North. In the South
he is borne along, as he proceeds, upon a stream,

322 THE WESTERN WORLD.

possessing far less in common with that through
which it passes than the current with which he would
mingle in the North possesses of the characteristics
of the society through which it flows. Whether on
the railway, the high road, the steamboat, and with
some exceptions in the hotel, out-door life in the
South has far less to recommend it to the stranger
than it has in the North. Nowhere is society, in
this its public manifestation, very refined in America,
but it certainly has a tone about it in the North of
which in the South it is deficient. Less attention is
paid to accommodation as you proceed; everything
seems filthy in the car, the steamer, and the tavern,
as compared with the accommodation met with in
the Northern States; whilst the further South one
proceeds, he naturally looks for the appliances of
cleanliness in greater abundance. Even the travellers
themselves, taking them generally, are in their tout-
ensemble less attractive in their appearance, and cer
tainly less refined in their habits, and less particular
in their manner, than their Northern fellow-country
men ; whilst not a small proportion of those met
with in the extreme South are suspicious in their
demeanour, repulsive in their looks, and equivocal in
their characters. New Orleans, and the other towns
situated near the mouth of the Mississippi, such as
Natches and Vicksburg, are infested with characters
to whom this latter description applies ; vagabonds
who can only live in that section of the Union where
the population is as yet comparatively scanty, the
law but feebly enforced, and public opinion, even
when decidedly pronounced against them, as yet too
impotent to crush them. These gamblers and des
peradoes prey upon the unwary, and sometimes by

THE WESTERN WORLD. 323

their mere numbers overawe, pillage, and terrify
their more sober and well-disposed fellow-travellers.
Such a nuisance in the midst of any community
becomes at last so intolerable as to work its own
cure ; and it has reached that point in the South, the
parties in question no longer carrying it with so high
a hand as heretofore, and being compelled year after
year to envelop their misdeeds more and more in the
mantle of secresy.

The reader must not imagine that in travelling
through the South one is constantly surrounded by
these vagabonds ; but they are frequently met with
in groups upon the Mississippi, and the other rivers
of the South, particularly those which enter the
Mississippi on its west bank. There can be but
little difficulty in detecting them to any one travel
ling with his eyes open ; for their reckless look, arid
swaggering, insolent air, enable a man of any dis
cernment to distinguish them at once from the rest
of his fellow-travellers. Putting them, therefore,
out of the question, as parties who, by his encounter
ing them on the highways, can lead the stranger into
no misconception of the character of Southern
society, what he has to be guarded against is drawing
his impressions of social life around him from the
general character of the floating population, with
whom alone he mingles. In the South particularly,
one must get out of the current if he would appre
ciate American society aright. I had afterwards
many opportunities of witnessing Southern life in all
its manifestations, and can testify to the fact, that it
cannot be regarded from a worse or a more unfair
point of view than that from which travellers have,
but too often, either from ignorance, prejudice, or

324 THE WESTERN WORLD.

caprice, alone beheld it. It is this that has given
rise to so many misrepresentations of it; parties
assuming to delineate society generally, when they
were but depicting life as they saw it in the
railway carriage, on the steamer, and in the bar
room.

END OF VOL. IT.

CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL.

•ll

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Call Number:

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Mackay, A»
Western world.

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