Chapter II: New York

Friends on shore -- The landing -- First impressions --
Brevoort House -- The interviewers -- Aspect of the
streets -- 1861 and 1881 -- Cockades and armorial bearings
-- The Union League Club -- The Fire Brigade.

As the "_Gallia_" neared the Cunard wharf a mass of upturned faces was visible on shore with eyes fixed on the steamer to detect friends. "There is Jack!" "I see Lucy." "There is Sam!" and so on. And, indeed, there was "Sam" ready to greet us, and the "_desiderium tam cari capitis_" was gratified by the appearance of its valued owner. It was over twenty years ago since I first landed at this very wharf on a bright March morning in 1861, and there were some men living whom I longed to see once more, despite the change which had been wrought in their faith, and the time which had elapsed and separated our lives. The States were then unconsciously preparing for the tremendous conflict which burst on the world so suddenly. New York was divided into two camps, in one of which was concentrated most of the ability, culture, wealth, and political knowledge of the State, and into that I was thrown on my arrival. I speedily found out there was another and a tremendous power which commanded "_les gros bataillons_" arrayed on the other side. The decks were now soon thronged with visitors and friends, and passengers mistaken for the Duke enjoyed the intoxication of a brief ovation till the imposture was discovered. There was the leave-taking--the civility which costs so little, and is so agreeable, giving even the misanthrope a kindly impression of human nature escaping from shipboard--the telling off, with all their bags, rugs, sticks, dressing-cases, bundles, and umbrellas, of the party to the quaint old carriages à la Queen Anne's time, and then, scattering groups of interviewers, we set out for our quarters. Our rooms had been taken at the Brevoort House, and we were expected with impatience. The purlieus on the riverside between the landing-place and the streets in which the fashionable hotels are situated are at least as bad as those of other great cities; but in New York the horrors of bad pavements and filthy ways are aggravated by the ribs of the tram-car ways, which cross the roads in every direction. However, our first impressions were effaced by the trimness and neatness of the better parts of the city, the brightness, and even grandeur, of the Fifth Avenue, and by the wealth and display of Broadway. The characteristics of hotels on the American system are well known, but the Brevoort House is not one of these. Instead of a fixed charge per diem, to include bed and board in all its wonderful profusion of meals and of dishes, the Brevoort House has a varied tariff for apartments, and meals _à la carte_. There is an old-fashioned air about the house, combined with a great degree of comfort and a full attainment of all the objects which American travellers desire in baths, barber's shop, reading-room, bar, and the like. An excellent cook and a large and well-chosen cellar leave little to be desired in the way of eating and drinking. But as the kitchens are far away and dishes are not cooked until the order for them is given, the service, although plentifully armed, is necessarily slow.

Friends, railway authorities, and representatives of the press received the travellers on their arrival, and the process of interviewing commenced at once with great severity. As it would be inconvenient for all the gentlemen of the press to interview the same individual at once, a distribution of duties was made, and very soon after our appearance at the Brevoort House each member of the party had a little private confidence with the representative of some leading journal. The peculiar views of the interviewers themselves were reflected in their reports next day. Some attributed importance to personal details; others desired to ascertain our political opinions; some were anxious to be instructed on English social questions; others were curious to know our views respecting the municipal government of New York and the condition of the city, founded on what we gleaned from our inspection of the streets from the windows of the carriages in which we were carried to the hotel. But as even in so small a party there was diversity of opinions, the accounts of the general impressions of the whole body were rather contradictory and confused. It is a novel experience to English people to be accosted in the most familiar way by persons whom they have never seen in their lives, and to be subjected to an examination, even to minute particulars, respecting their views in relation to all manner of things, knowing all the while that their answers will be given with more or less accuracy in print in a few hours. But it is nevertheless an ordeal to which public men and notabilities in the United States submit generally without a struggle; and it would be considered a mark of "aristocratic exclusiveness" if titled people from England refused to acquiesce in the general custom.

The effect produced on the party by the first sight of the city was not agreeable. The unwonted look of the Elevated Railway, of the forest of crooked telegraph poles, and cobweb-like wires along the sideways, combined to give an unpleasant sensation to the eye. We had occasion, subsequently, to recognise the utility of the Elevated Railway, just as we had to admit the advantages of tramcar railways for the million; but no device can redeem the ugliness of the one, and nothing but a fine spirit of self-sacrifice can reconcile a resident of New York to the devastation caused in the streets, and to the misery of travelling over the iron ruts which run through most of the thoroughfares of the city, with the exception of Broadway. It is only fair to state that the Elevated Railway is not commended by any one from an æsthetic point of view, and there is a theory afloat that the telegraph wires will, some fine day, be laid underground; but, all said and done, there is reason to doubt whether they manage these things in New York much better than they do in some of the decayed old capitals of the Eastern World.

In some respects I found the old parts of New York but little changed since 1861. The words in which I recorded my first impressions then would not inaptly describe what one sees, in 1881, on landing at one of the wharves and driving to the Fifth Avenue, barring the change of seasons, for there was no snow in April, but the condition of the streets was accounted for by the late and severe winter, of which the effects had not yet disappeared.

I wrote on 16th March, 1861:--"We were rattling over a most abominable pavement, plunging into mud-holes, squashing through snow-heaps, in ill-lighted, narrow streets of low, mean-looking, wooden houses, of which an unusual proportion appeared to be lager-bier saloons, whisky-shops, oyster-houses, and billiard and smoking establishments. The crowd on the pavement were very much what a stranger would be likely to see in a very bad part of London, Antwerp, or Hamburg, with a dash of the noisy exuberance which proceeds from the high animal spirits that defy police regulations and are superior to police force, called 'rowdyism.' The drive was long and tortuous; but by degrees the character of the thoroughfares and streets improved. At last we turned into a wide street with very tall houses, alternating with far humbler erections, blazing with lights, gay with shop-windows, thronged in spite of the mud with well-dressed people, and pervaded by strings of omnibuses--Oxford Street was nothing to it for length. At intervals there towered up a block of brickwork and stucco with long rows of windows lighted up tier above tier, and a swarming crowd passing in and out of the portals, which was recognised as the barrack-like glory of American civilisation--a Broadway monster hotel. More oyster-shops, lager-bier saloons--concert-rooms of astounding denominations, with external decorations very much in the style of the booths at Bartholomew Fair--churches, restaurants, confectioners, private houses! again another series--they cannot go on expanding for ever! This is the west-end of London--its Belgravia and Grosvenoria represented in one long street, with offshoots of inferior dignity at right angles to it. Some of the houses are handsome, but the greater number have a compressed, squeezed-up aspect, which arises from the compulsory narrowness of frontage in proportion to the height of the building, and all of them are bright and new, as if they were just finished to order,--a most astonishing proof of the rapid development of the city. As the hall door is made an important feature in the residence, the front parlour is generally a narrow, lanky apartment, struggling for existence between the hall and the partition of the next house. The outer door, which is always provided with fine carved panels and mouldings, is of some rich varnished wood, and looks much better than our painted doors. It is generously thrown open so as to show an inner door with curtains and plate glass. The windows, which are double on account of the climate, are frequently of plate glass also. Some of the doors are on the same level as the street, with a basement story beneath; others are approached by flights of steps, the basement for servants having the entrance below the steps, and this, I believe, is the old Dutch fashion, and the name of 'stoop' is still retained for it."[2]

But the progress, which has never been arrested since the period of my first acquaintance with the Empire City, is attested by statistics; it has grown, and it is growing steadily in size, population, trade, and wealth.

In the evening the Duke and some of the party went to the Madison Square Theatre to see "Hazel Kirke," which has had a wonderful run: but, truth to say, I was more struck by the commodiousness and charming arrangements of the theatre, which are perfect, than by the situations of the highly strained drama, which was rendered, however, by a very effective company, and moved many of those near us to tears.

The day after our arrival (April 26th) the conviction dawned on certain of us that we must be up and stirring, if certain articles of baggage were to be rescued from some unknown limbo and restored to our personal use. (I hope my readers will bear with me if I ask them to accept a few pages now and then of my diary as the best account I can offer them of our tour.) The worthy Briton who had borne up manfully against the unaccustomed trials of sea-sickness, and had valiantly kept watch and ward over the Duke's baggage and that of his friends on board ship, had been fairly overwhelmed by the _novitas regni_ on landing, and he maintained undefeatedly that all the things--his own certainly--were in the hotel, but "that they would not give them up!" There was nothing for it but an expedition to the Cunard dock. Lord Stafford and I drove over to the river side, and there we found the missing portmanteaux, bags, and bundles, quite safe, in a large shed, open apparently to all the world, and returning to the Brevoort were once more entangled in the meshes of many interviewers.

It needs some reflection to appreciate the great fact called New York; some previous acquaintance to recognise the prodigious increase, within the last ten or fifteen years, in all that makes a great city. The Fifth Avenue has extended its well-ordered rows of stately mansions and handsome houses almost to the gates of the favourite recreation ground of fast trotters and well-appointed carriages. The Central Park is now a beautiful resort, of which any metropolis might be proud. "O Quirine! Rusticus tuus sumit trechedipna." If my eyes did not deceive me, I beheld cockades in the hats of honest Republican "helps," and armorial bearings on the panels of democratic broughams. Should the enterprise of a gentleman who proposes to collect particulars of Americans claiming to be sprung from the loins of kings and emperors, to be published at a price which suggests that he must believe in the possession of hereditary wealth by his distinguished subscribers, be successful, imperial and royal honours will be due to people now content with belonging to "the first families" in the States. These, however, are but spots on the face of the sun under which the American "Demos" basks so contentedly, and they may vary in size and number without affecting the purity and force of the celestial rays.

The papers contained elaborate descriptions of the Duke and of his party from the pens of the interviewers of the day before, which afforded us considerable amusement. His Grace of course was the central figure, and, judging from the accounts we read, he must certainly have assumed a variety of appearances. One paper said: "His gait is marked by a slight limp: his manner is easy, even careless, and his movements are noticeable for their restlessness." "Altogether he is the picture of a well-bred English gentleman, and would never be suspected of being the possessor of a dozen titles and an income so vast that he cannot possibly spend it all." Another paper thought he was "a jolly-looking man. He is above the middle height, of robust build, and the very picture of a thoroughly happy, healthy, well-preserved gentleman, still in the prime of life. He wears his beard, whiskers, and moustache, which are of a bright chestnut-brown, and as yet barely touched by the silver tint of time." The appreciations of another reporter were very different. He wrote "the Duke is a tall gentleman with silvery hair and a grey beard, dressed in a sack coat and grey trowsers." According to another authority "He has a look about him which would mark him for a Scotchman. He is tall, of medium size, with greyish hair and whiskers and a sandy-coloured moustache. He was dressed in a grey suit and Derby hat." He was described elsewhere as having "a passion for steam-engines of almost every kind, although the locomotive and the modern fire-engine are his favourites." We all came in for our share of fancy sketching and pen-and-ink drawing, and those who knew themselves best would have been puzzled to detect the originals. Some of the limners thought us "fair types of well-to-do, well-fed gentlemen, of the solid build and florid features which English roast beef produces." Mr. Neale was declared to have "a more elegant external appearance than the other members of the party. On the outskirts of his features grow brown whiskers." We all "talked more affectedly" than the Duke. Mr. Stephen was complimented with reason on his "magnificent physique." It was astonishing how "well posted," to use the Transatlantic idiom, the papers were in Burke and Debrett. They gave full accounts of the ducal house of Sutherland--of its history and possessions, expatiated on the grandeurs of Trentham, Stafford House, and Dunrobin, the treasures of their picture-galleries, the vast acreage of the estates, the richness of the mines, the wealth of the salmon rivers, deer forests, and grouse moors, with most un-Republican enthusiasm.

To millions of Americans the exact status of a Duke is as great a mystery as the rank of a Jam or of a Thakoor is to the mass of Englishmen out of India; but millions of Americans had heard of the Duke of Sutherland. Stafford House is a name familiar to those who remember the times when "Uncle Tom's Cabin," Mrs. Beecher Stowe, and the anti-slavery agitation which emanated from Exeter Hall made noise in the world. Still, the great gulf which the Revolution and the Act of Independence made between the social systems of the New World and the Old is only passed by the travelled American, except in rare instances. The colonel who informed Martin Chuzzlewit that "your Queen, sir, lives in the Tower of London," was scarcely an exaggeration of popular American ignorance on such subjects. But, after all, how many Englishmen are there who could give an exact account of the working of the Electoral College in the election of one of the most potential of sovereigns, or who could define the differences between a Republican and a Democrat? An old lady on board the "_Gallia_" who insisted that "the Duke of Sutherland was a cousin of the Queen of England" represents a large number of people who cannot or do not care to understand the functions and constitution of what they call "your privileged classes." The authority to whom I refer above was on her way to her home in the Far West after a tour in Europe and a visit to Great Britain, and she told her auditory that "she thought Ireland, at all events, would be a great deal better off if there were more _dollars_ and less _dukes_ in it," which, seeing that the Green Isle has only two peers of that rank, argued perhaps some intolerance on her part towards the ducal aristocracy. A duke who takes an active interest in the great works of national progress which Americans exhibit with a just pride to all comers is sure to be honoured in the Great Republic; and when he examines mechanical inventions, ascends elevators, descends mines, dips into graving-docks, investigates factories and workshops, drives an engine, or goes deeply into the working of a farm or of a fire brigade, he excites something like enthusiasm, especially if he be discreetly moved to express his feelings of admiration to those around him.

It was considered by all the Duke's friends that a banquet at Delmonico's was obligatory, and to the refined taste and discrimination, polished by long experience of many capitals, of "Uncle Sam," to the brilliant originality of Mr. Hurlbut, and to the sober judgment and critical acumen of Mr. Butler Duncan, with the proviso that there were "not to be too many dishes," the task of ordering "a quiet little dinner" at that famous restaurant was confided. What the notion of the _chef_ as to "much or many, more or most," under ordinary circumstances, may have been, it would not be easy to determine, but his inventive genius was confined within the limits of a moderate _menu_, and the result quite justified the reputation of the house in regard to _cuisine_ and cellar. Especially admirable was the arrangement of the table in the cabinet, which was set forth with exquisite flowers and fine fruit. There is no single establishment of the kind in Paris, or in any other city, as far as I know, which can rival Delmonico's new restaurant. It serves the purpose of Willis's Rooms, the London Tavern, the Albion, the Freemasons', and similar establishments in London, for public banquets and breakfasts, civil, military, political, and social; for anniversary convivialities as well as for little dinners and suppers; and of the Café Anglais, Bignon's, Voisin's, &c., in Paris. It is provided with many pretty suites of rooms, and some vast _salons_, with a very large restaurant _à la carte_. It is a blaze of lights and mirrors at night, and there is a _cliquetis_ of steel, plate, and glass, a coming and going of ladies and gentlemen in evening dress, a constant movement and an animation in the corridors and approaches, which make one think that, if they be always in force, New York must be in a state of perpetual festivity and luxurious enjoyment. It should be remarked that the charges are high in comparison with the highest standard with which I am acquainted, and that the _habitués_ should belong to classes to whom money is no object.[3] And yet close at hand there is much poverty, if not absolute misery. The sewerage of streets not far off the Fifth Avenue in all its glory was, we were told, in the worst possible condition, and some of the houses, filled with squalid people packed as they are in the lowest parts of London, were pestilential and poisonous. Some people who do not like Republican Republicanism in power, though they do not object to Democratic Republicans in office, seem inclined to lay the blame of bad sewers, bad air, bad pavements, and bad water on the various Commissioners, the elected of the people, who have charge of such things in the Empire City. I was especially warned against the water. It was denounced and charged, in the press, with many serious offences against the public health and against nose, eye, and palate, and I did not test the truth of the accusation.

The Delmonico dinner was but a preparation for a function at the Union League Club, which was giving a "Ladies' Reception" at the Club-house in Fifth Avenue, where "all New York was to be present." The boast, or threat, was scarcely an empty one. As far as the spacious premises could accommodate New York, its fathers and mothers, indeed its grandfathers and grandmothers, its uncles and its aunts, they were there; but the sisters and daughters appeared either to be kept at home, or to dislike the Union League Club, for there were in the vast crowd of well-dressed people of both sexes but few young ladies, which was a bitter disappointment to the gayer of the party; and when one of them repaired to a supper-table, at which there was a rolling fire of corks going on, and asked for a glass of champagne to keep up his spirits, the domestic whom he addressed demanded his wine-ticket, and he, being destitute of any such document, retired disconsolate and thirsty. Mr. Hamilton Fish, the President of the Club, and other members of the Committee did the honours for the Duke, and presented many ladies and gentlemen in their progress through the Club to him, and many amiable offers of service and suggestions for the disposal of our time were tendered, which the time aforesaid would not permit us to accept. It was trying to wander about long series of rooms upstairs and downstairs, and to struggle up and down staircases and along corridors in a throng of strangers; more trying still to be brought up all standing, and to be made an involuntary enemy to progress by the ill-timed but well-meant efforts of the Committee of Reception to introduce eminent citizens or citizenesses to the Duke and his friends. The walls were hung with paintings lent for the occasion by members of the Club, and the predominance of the Foreign schools in the American market was very clearly marked in the names of the painters and the choice of subjects. There were Meissoniers and Rosa Bonheurs, and pictures from Brussels, Paris, Dusseldorf, and Munich, as well as a display of native works, but there were few, if any, specimens of the divisions of the English school. Mr. Bierstadt told me subsequently that there was a growing appreciation of the works of British artists in the States, and that some valuable examples of our best modern painters had been recently acquired for their galleries by private collectors. At all events, on the present occasion the best pictures in the world would literally have gone to the wall, as there was no chance of seeing them thoroughly, although the rooms were brilliantly lighted. Mr. J. Milbank is the fortunate owner of De Neuville's "Reconnaissance," as well as of a good Bonnat and Bouguereau, and Mr. Sloane lent a Gerome (a Moulvie) and a De Neuville, Mr. Raynor sent a "Mussulman at Prayer" by Gerome and good examples of Troyon. Of Corot there were numerous pictures belonging to different members. Mr. J. C. Runkle was happy in the possession of Millets, Geromes, Corots, and Troyons, and liberal in lending them. Detaille's "Halte" (belonging to Mr. C. S. Smith), Meissonier's "Trumpeter," and many other pictures exhibited by members betokened the existence of taste and money, and altogether--"glimpsed" as it was--we saw an excellent selection and had a fair criterion of the value of New York art interiors. There was a sprinkling of naval and military United States officers in uniform among the guests, and I observed that since I was last here an innovation has been made on the Republican simplicity which affected indifference to ribands and decorations, and that several of the officers wore emblems of service on their breasts and in their button-holes--whether authorised by the State or the tokens of voluntary association, like Freemasons' badges, &c., I could not ascertain, as I did not like to ask. The Union League dates from the early period of the Civil War, when, as I remember, there were two opinions in New York, and it was started by prominent members of the Republican party to support Mr. Lincoln in the Empire State and city when he much needed help. The attack on Fort Sumter gave a powerful impetus to the development of the national sentiment in favour of union and unity, and the death of Ellsworth and the defeat of the first Federal army at Bull Run added such an intensity and coherence to the feeling that the Union League became a power in the State, equipped regiments, raised funds, and in every way contributed to the carrying on of the war with spirit, affording by its action and success a powerful illustration of the vigour with which voluntary associations can be worked in America. That there was still in New York a strong party which by no means belonged to the Union League Club or approved of the principles of the association, however, we had reason to suspect from the manner in which our announcement that we were going to the Ladies' Reception there was received by some of our American acquaintances. At one of the several clubs of which our party were made honorary members during our stay in the city, I happened, the same night, to ask a gentleman with whom I was speaking, "Have you been at the Union League Club Reception?" "Union League! What on earth would take me or any one there who could go anywhere else? No, sir! I should be very sorry to meet a friend of mine inside that sort of place." It was, I suppose, like asking a member of Brooks's if he went much to the City Conservative, or a Carlton man if he was going to the Cavendish, but that sort of knowledge which enables people to avoid social rocks does not come but by experience.

Long as the day, and trying as our experiences had been, our labours were not yet over. The Duke's fame as an amateur of fire-engine work had been proclaimed and insisted upon in the American papers, and it would be difficult to say whether an ordinary reader thought the principal object of his Grace's visit was to buy railway shares or land, or to put out fires in the United States. If there is any one of the many things of which Americans are proud, that they take more pride in than another, it is their Fire Department. And their pride is not at all diminished by the reflection that fires are perhaps more frequent and destructive in the United States than in any country in the world, not even excepting Russia.

Mr. Butler Duncan had arranged before dinner that we should visit a fire-station; but it was understood that no warning should be given, and that we were to take any station near at hand _à l'improviste_. Accordingly we went from one of the clubs down Fifth Avenue, and turned up a cross street to a house not distinguishable from those on either side of it, except by a lamp and the name and number of the station. On the ringing of a bell the door was opened by a man in a kind of uniform, and we were shown into a hall occupying the whole of the ground floor, in the centre of which there was a fire-engine and tender, and at one side stalls, in which four horses were peaceably nibbling their fodder by gas-light. The officer in charge summoned his chief, who came downstairs partly dressed, and who, when made acquainted with the desires of his visitors, quickly set to work to carry them out. On his pressing a brass knob in the side of the wall, we heard the clang of an alarm-bell, and in a second or two, down the stairs, pell-mell, there came a gang of firemen, who had evidently been sleeping in their boots and breeches, and who were hastily buttoning their coats as they descended. In the twinkling of an eye they were in their places on the fire-engine and the horses trotted out and placed themselves in position of their own accord, so that by an electric arrangement the harness was lowered on their backs from the ceiling, and secured in a moment. The gate in the wall was thrown open in front to the street, and out dashed the engine ready for work. All this was exceedingly well done. The Duke was so pleased with it that the experiment was repeated again, and we retired thanking the courteous chief of the establishment for the trouble he had taken, and with the conviction that if they do not always put out fires in New York, it is not owing to any deficiency in the speed with which the engines are turned out of the stations, or the efficiency of the Fire Department.

_April 27th._--The early morning was devoted to a stroll down Fifth Avenue and Broadway, and then we returned to the hotel and gave some time to the consideration of the plans for the journey which was to be made to the Far West, and to the details of the excursions which had been arranged before we left England. We had "friends in council," and it says a good deal for the care and forethought with which the expedition had been sketched out that but very few alterations, and those of a trifling character, were necessary in the programme. The hall of the Brevoort House was still thronged with gentlemen desirous of interviews with the new-comers, or verifying the descriptions of them in the newspapers.

In the forenoon we were conducted to the Elevated Railway, and took our places in the special train which started from a station in a cross street close to the Brevoort House, off the Fifth Avenue. I am not going to be the world's policeman, or to inveigh against a mode of conveyance which is tolerated by the people most affected by it; but as I travelled along this extraordinary construction, I could not but feel, as I inadvertently looked into a long series of private interiors, through the open windows on a level with me, and beheld the domestic arrangements of family after family carried out under my eyes, that I was taking a great liberty with private life. Here, drawn by an engine which in common with the carriages distilled oil plentifully on the road below, at a height varying from 20 to 40 feet, was I being borne along in the middle of streets thronged with people and filled with vehicles, looking into drawing-rooms or third-floor windows as I travelled. In a city elongated for miles as New York is, the convenience, no doubt, is very great; but I fail to see why the railway should not have been made on the plan of our own Metropolitan underground system. The speed, in spite of the numerous stoppages, was very respectable, more than 15 miles an hour; but we were retarded from time to time by the trains in advance of us. Wonderful was it to see them gliding round the sharp curves as the line pursued its sinuous course through the streets like a monster millipede. At some parts of its career the railway seems to run right over the pavements, and if the passers-by are not careful, they may receive some of the _disjecta_ of the carriages on their clothes and faces; indeed I am not sure that any amount of care would prevent that sometimes occurring. The remarks which I made to one of the railway officials respecting the inconvenience to which the railway must subject the people living in the houses on either side of it, were met by the statement that "the rents had not diminished." The case of a householder who brought an action against the Company for damages and got a verdict in his favour was not regarded with much favour, and was, I was told, not likely to become a precedent, inasmuch as the final appeal did not lie with the court in which the judgment had been entered; and it was the intention of the company to carry the cause to a higher jurisdiction, where their contention that they had right to cause inconvenience to the few on account of the benefit of the many would be accepted, probably, as good morality and law. To my mind, however, nothing but hard necessity could compel people to live under such conditions as those to which the inhabitants of the houses exposed to the nuisance of the Elevated Railway must submit. It is not alone that they are under incessant inspection of the passengers if they keep blinds and windows up or open, but that the noise and whirl must be distracting. A train passes every minute, I was told, during the hours of business. There are two of these elevated railways, one going east from the Battery to Harlem, the other west from the same starting-point to Fifty-Ninth Street. The Metropolitan line starts from a point near West Broadway to the Central Park. The line on which we were travelling ultimately struck out for the more open country till we came to the Harlem river. There we got out and inspected a very remarkable bridge, with a draw of a most ingenious construction for the passage of vessels, which will be completed speedily. From the railway we enjoyed a fine view of the Croton Aqueduct, of which New York may well be proud, the high bridge by which it is carried across the Harlem River being an imperial work recalling the grandest enterprises of the kind of the Roman engineers. There was a good view of the Central Park and of the country which has been so rapidly encroached upon by the builders; but there is still a considerable tract of land occupied by sheds and shanties of a very abject and miserable aspect, in the possession of squatters who cause much anxiety to landowners, and are very difficult to dispossess. Whether they have rights of disturbance or not I cannot say. Probably if they were to introduce some of the machinery of the law which is considered peculiarly suited to the wants of Ireland, the New Yorkers might find it to their advantage.

On the route to the Harlem River the line rises to a dizzy height, quite above the tops of houses of three stories. Now that the system has been adopted, it seems impossible to change it, as these "L Lines," as they are called, have cost too much money (I think more than twelve millions sterling) to be abandoned or bought up, and they are still in course of construction. No amount of utility can compensate for the intrinsic ugliness of these erections which block up the vista and darken the streets below; and in winter time, when New York, groaning under a burden of snow, has to suffer from the accumulations thrown down by the railway, the inconvenience must be greatly aggravated.

When this very interesting excursion was over, the party returned to the Brevoort House, and after a short interval for repose they were off again, this time to visit Wall Street, the Chamber of Commerce, and the Sub-Treasury of the United States. The latter is an exceedingly fine Doric building of white marble, with a noble rotunda, supported inside by sixteen Corinthian columns. It stands upon the site of the Federal Hall, where Washington delivered his first address as President of the United States. The Duke and his friends were received here by General ----, and conducted through the various departments to the strong rooms, in which were deposited, in neat jackets of canvas, many millions of gold. At the Chamber of Commerce we found some interesting memorials of the old British occupation, portraits of governors and generals of the ante-revolutionary period. The venerable statistician, Mr. Ruggles, gave us much valuable and elaborate information respecting the enormous development of the trade of New York, and expatiated on the vast extension of the wheat and corn-growing power of the United States, and its increasing exportations to Europe.

In the evening the Duke and his friends were entertained by the Hon. Edwards Pierrepoint, where we met a very distinguished party--Mr. Blaine, Secretary of State, Governor Cornell, Mr. Hamilton Fish, Mr. Jay, Mr. Low, Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Royal Phelps, Mr. Stout, Mr. Potter, Mr. Choate, Messrs. Beckwith, Mr. Robinson. The honours of the mansion in Fifth Avenue, which contains many interesting souvenirs of Mr. Pierrepoint's official career in England, were graciously rendered by Mrs. Pierrepoint. And later, there was a reception, at which a number of eminent persons were presented to the Duke.

I am not sufficiently versed in the details of fire department management in great cities to offer an opinion on the merits of any particular system. I have seen many fires in my life, and I can only suppose that if the present arrangements are nearly perfect in any one place fires must be regarded as invincible, and fire departments can only report progress and stay the march of the well-called devouring element towards universal sway. Alderman Waite was very anxious that the Duke, as an expert, should have an opportunity of seeing officially the working of the New York system, and it was arranged that what was styled another "impromptu" should be made.

On our way from dinner at Mr. Pierrepoint's to a fire station near our hotel we had to pass the house in the Fifth Avenue where Mr. Edison's head-quarters are situated, and the party turned in to pay him a visit. We found him, a bright-eyed, smooth-faced, broad-browed, almost boyish-looking man, with a pleasant, gentle manner, literally in a blaze of his own making, as far as the manifestation of the electric light was concerned, in a room clear as day, in which Edison lamps were doing the work of the sun, or of a moon with sunny proclivities. He turned his lights off and on at discretion. Coal-owners and gas share proprietors trembled. "But," said Mr. Edison, "there is a great deal yet to be done." And indeed the world is wide enough for gas and electric lighting--for old Captain Shandy and the new blue bottle.

Whilst the Duke and his friends were visiting Mr. Edison there was a small gathering of gentlemen on their way to the quarters of Engine Company No. 4 in Eighteenth Street, near Broadway, where we speedily joined them, and saw a repetition of the business of last night. The engine was reposing in its bedroom--the horses, near at hand, were at work in their cribs and mangers. Foreman Shay strikes a gong and manipulates an electric bell, and down tumbles at once, ready for work, a gang of firemen from their beds in the room above, and in an instant lead out the horses, which rush to the shafts, are harnessed at once by a detachment of the harness, all ready above them hanging from the roof, by the electric power of the station, and are in galloping trim in 2 minutes 30 seconds. This was done several times; the horses seemed to like it more than the firemen. The Alderman and the Fire Commissioners, and others were much pleased at the expression of the Duke's satisfaction, and a gentleman whom I regarded with much interest on account of his title (which I commend to our army reformers), "Fire Master" Sheldon, was especially gratified. It would seem as if the title was honorary or undeserved, for there is no master of fire in New York, as several conflagrations during our stay in the city proved in a very conclusive manner. But in order to show how a fire ought to be put out the Duke, instead of going to bed, was taken off to the corner of Twelfth Street on Fifth Avenue, after the inspection of the premises, stables, sleeping-rooms, and office. The Fire Commissioners, marshals, and aldermen trooped in front of us till we come to the "alarm," which lived in a little pillar-looking box by the side of the kerbstone. The Duke, properly instructed _ad hoc_, turned on the alarm, and hey presto!--well, nearly so--the effect of his operations became manifest.

Be it noted that our small crowd at the corner of a street close to the most dignified thoroughfare in New York attracted little or no notice from the passers-by; but presently there was a thunder of wheels and hoofs, and a cry of "Hi! hi!" up Fifth Avenue, and vomiting out sparks of fire, snorting, and curveting, came down the engine of our friend Captain Shay from Eighteenth Street, No. 14, in 2' 5"; and in fast succession rushed up engine No. 18, from Tenth, Greenwich Avenue, in 2' 40"; No. 3 Hook and Ladder, from Thirteenth, near Fourth Avenue, in 3'; No. 33, from Mercer Street, near Fourth, in 3' 25"; the Insurance Patrol from Great Tower Street in 4'; and No. 5 Hook and Ladder Company, from Charles Street, in 4' 25". It was very fine to see these engines and their attendants as they made night hideous hastening to the summons, and then ranging up in order to begin, for which there was happily no need. A strong patrol of police came up at the double, formed across the road, charged the crowd to keep them back, and made a resolute demonstration of physical force on the Duke as he was in the act of examining an engine; but such interludes speedily lost all interest in the necessity which presented itself for working out the law of self-preservation, for a special call having been made for the self-propelling engine, No. 24, from Morton Street, near Hudson, and in 6' 15" that fearful mechanism made its appearance--a veritable Stromboli on wheels, and apparently quite wild with fine spirits, and perfectly unmanageable, for it went rampaging up and down the Avenue, vomiting fire and sending the spectators flying for their lives. The hydrant was opened, and the cold water had a calming effect on No. 24, which began to propel a strong jet of water down the Avenue, and, after covering itself with glory and some unwary passers-by with wet, was taken off, and our little party broke up for the night.

_April 28th._--Our last day in New York! Our visit to the Empire City was just long enough to satisfy us that it would need a longer sojourn than we could afford to enable us to gain even a general idea of its sights and institutions, and a lifetime to exhaust its hospitality. We perched for a moment on the rim of the Circean bowl and flew off after a glance at the surface, not taking even a sip of the contents, unless the dinner at Mr. Edwards Pierrepoint's pleasant house, the feast of Spartan simplicity at Delmonico's, where every dish was a culinary triumph, and the glasses were charged with wines of race, could be likened to a draught.

"Surgit amari aliquid de fonte." I wonder who was behind "Box 2174, Post Office, New York"? Because we all had a circular to-day containing two printed papers, one entitled "Who is my neighbour?" the other, "Shall the Victors of Spitzkop fight in vain?" in which reference was made to that box as the centre of an organisation--based on the supposition that there is an ever-present feeling of hate to England in the mind of the American people, which, I believe, is erroneous--to make a war against Great Britain for the purpose of assisting the Boers to obtain the restoration of their independence. The man behind the box, however, stated his case artfully and forcibly, if not truthfully. He declared that the immediate and provocative cause of the annexation of the Transvaal was the attempt of the "Republic" to construct a railway to Delagoa Bay. "Alas, they did not know the depths of English hate and English greed! First the English missionary, next the English Consul, and then her hireling soldiery. This is the policy of England--first lies, next intrigue, then butchery." There was an appeal to Mr. Gladstone, however, following one "to the American people," which argued that the man behind the box had more confidence in the former than in the latter, though they were reminded and adjured "We have fought for the African! Let us now fight for the Africander!" and there were model resolutions to be adopted at imaginary public meetings; the last of all was--"Resolved: That we advise the English masses to take the government of their country into their own hands, for their dukes, their earls, their knights, and their lords and their merchant princes can only lead them in the future as they are now doing, and have done in the past, to war, dishonour, desolation, death, debt, misery, and taxes." The appeal terminated with some doggerel, headed "War Song of the Africanders." Some one else sent us numbers of a comic periodical, with a woodcut of our respectable old British Lion, in a shako and uniform, retreating precipitately from a very bandit-looking person, with the words, "The British Lion meets a Real Live White Man!"

If Americans are subjected in England to the same fire of paper projectiles that was opened on the Duke and his friends, there is some reason for their avoiding our country. Circulars we are accustomed to at home--announcements of alarming sacrifices and reckless sale we can bear with patience. But here we have ways and means revealed to us of achieving absolute health, wealth, and happiness--patents and portents--mechanical inventions certain to "annihilate both time and space," and make "investors" happy--parents with children to be adopted--patent safes--veritable El Dorados--mines of gold and silver--medicines of subtlest power--agricultural implements--chemical products--hair dyes--new motive forces--astrologers burning to reveal the secrets of the world of spirits and stars--mediums palpitating with anxiety for conference and confidence--the Atomic Steam Coal Gas Reform's disciples insisting on our using their gas "made from refuse coal-dust and steam" and joining the "National Gas Reform Syndicate."

Having completed all our baggage arrangements and handed the pile over to Mr. Trowbridge, the obliging agent of the London and North-Western Railway, to see safely stowed in the special train at the other side of the river, we drove down to the wharf, where the steamer "_Juniata_," chartered by our indefatigable hosts, the Philadelphia Railway Company, was awaiting us. We embarked, and made an agreeable excursion up and down the river, inspecting the termini of the railways and the corn elevators, and passing under the great bridge which is to connect Brooklyn with the city. The lively aspect of the waterway, crowded with shipping, and the incessant movement of the vast ferry-boats and steamers, impressed us greatly. When one thinks that it is not three centuries ago since Henry (whom the Americans persist in calling Hendrick) Hudson made his way up the stream and began the civilising processes on the Red man, which have ended in their disappearance, New York, with its forest of steeples and chimneys, and great elevators, is indeed a marvel. At the beginning of this century its population was very little over 60,000; last year it was 1,207,000.

The four Commissioners sent over by Charles II. "to reduce the Colony into bounds" in 1664, who, August 29, "marched with 300 red-coats to Manhadoes and took from the Dutch the chief town, then called New Amsterdam, now New York, and turned out their Governor, with a Silver Leg, and all the rest but those who acknowledged subjection to the King of England, suffering them to enjoy their houses and estates as before," had a very easy task if the old book[4] from which I quote be correct. "Thirteen days after," continues the writer, "Sir Robert Carr took the fort and town of Aurania, now called Albany, and twelve days after that the fort and town of Avasapha, then Delaware Castle, manned with Dutch and Swedes, so that the English are now masters of three handsome towns, three strong forts, and a castle, without the loss of one man." In those days New York was reputed a large place, "containing five hundred well-built houses of Dutch brick, the meanest not valued under one hundred pounds--to the landward it is encompassed with a wall of good thickness, and fortified at the entrance of the river, so as to command any ship that passeth that way, by a fort called James Fort." The inhabitants "were supplied with venison and fowl in the winter and fish in the summer by the Indians at an easie price, and had a considerable trade for the skins of elkes, deers, bears, beaver, otter, racoon, and other rich furs." These Indians are described as well proportioned, swarthy, black-haired, very expert with their bows and arrows, very serviceable and courteous to the English, being of a ready wit and very apt to receive instruction from them, "but there are now but few Indians on the island, being strangely decreased since the English first settled there, for not long ago there were six towns full of them which are now reduced to two villages, the rest being cut off by wars among themselves or some raging mortal diseases." The question arises, however, how it was that these wars and diseases did not reduce the numbers of the Indians before the arrival of the English, and the answer might point to the theory that the latter had had something to do with the spread of both. And, indeed, the author soon tells the terrible secret of it all. "They are very great lovers of strong drink, so that without they have enough to be drunk they care not to drink at all--if any happen to be drunk before he has taken his share, which is ordinarily a quart of brandy, rum, or strong waters, to show their justice they will pour the rest down his throat, in which debauches they often kill one another, which the friends of the dead revenge upon the murtherer." He declares they are descendants of the Jews, and gives some curious reasons for it. In another place the author says, "Don't abuse them, but let them have justice and you win them. The worst is that they are the worse for the Christians, who have propagated their vices and have given them tradition for ill, and not for good things." Alas, that it should be so! How little was the pious prayer he offers heard on High! "I beseech God to incline the hearts of all that come into these parts to outlive the knowledge of the Natives by a fixed obedience to their greater knowledge of the will of God, for it were miserable indeed for us to fall under the just censure of the poor Indian conscience whilst we make profession of things so far transcending it." What Nemesis has followed the wrong the English white man rendered to his fellow? None, I trow.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] 'My Diary North and South,' vol. i. p. 17. Bradbury and Evans, London, 1863.

[3] At starting, the party formed a common purse, which was placed in the hands of Mr. Neale, and a most excellent Chancellor of the Exchequer he proved from our departure to cross the Atlantic till he left us to return to England.

[4] "The Present State of His Majesties Isles and Territories in America, &c. London: Printed by H. Clark, for Dorman Newman, at the King's Arms, in the Poultry, 1687."