Part 10

The English and Dutch have always kept their colonies under a state of religious persecution, while the French and Spanish have acted with generosity in that respect towards theirs. The Dutch presbyterians in New-York were held in subordination to the Classis of Amsterdam, till, a few years since, they discovered that subjection to be anti-constitutional and oppressive; upon which a majority of the ministers in their cœtus erected a classis for the ordination of ministers and the government of their churches, in defiance of the ecclesiastical judicatory of Amsterdam. Mr. Smith, in his history of that province, p. 252, justifies the schism upon the following ground: “The expense,” says he, “attending the ordination of their candidates in Holland, and the reference of their disputes to the Classis of Amsterdam, is very considerable; and with what consequences the interruption of their correspondence with the European Dutch would be attended, in case of war, well deserves their consideration.” Nevertheless, Mr. Smith agrees with his protestant dissenting neighbours, that the American episcopalians suffered no hardship in being obliged to incur the same expense in crossing the Atlantic for ordination. If the Dutch are justifiable in their schism, I cannot perceive why the American episcopalians might not be justified in a like schism from the bishops of London. Had the episcopalians as little aversion to schism as the protestant dissenters, the clergy north of the Delaware would, in 1765, have got rid of their regard of an English, and accepted of a Greek bishop, whom they could have supported for half the expense their candidates were at in going to England for ordination. But they were said by some to be conscientious men, while others said they were Issachar’s sons couching down beneath their burthens.

To proceed in my description of the country:

Connecticut is situated between 41 and 42 degrees of north latitude, and between 72 and 73 degrees 50 minutes west longitude from London. Notwithstanding, from this latitude, New-London lies 600 miles nearer the line than the capital of England, the winter sets in there a month before it does here, and not only continues longer, but is more severe. This extraordinary coldness is said by naturalists to arise from the vast frozen lakes and rivers, and mountains eternally covered with snow, throughout the northernmost parts of America. The mountains may have their share in producing this effect; but I am apt to think the lakes and rivers have a contrary influence. If I ask why lands bordering on them are three weeks earlier in their productions than lands ten miles distant, it will readily be imputed to the warmth of the air, occasioned by the reflection of the sun’s rays from the water. On the same principle, I argue that the rays of the sun, multiplied and reflected by ice also, will render the air warmer. But it may be further said, that the cause is perhaps to be ascribed to the soil being more sandy and loose near a lake or river, and, therefore, naturally warmer than that which is remote and not sandy. I reply, that there are loose, sandy plains, twenty miles off from any lake or river, three weeks later in their products, and very perceptibly colder, than lands upon them. It would be to no purpose to urge that the damps and fogs from unfrozen lakes, rivers, &c. &c. affect the distant but not the adjacent country; because I apprehend there are no unfrozen lakes and rivers in the north of America in winter. Besides, if there were, the mists arising from them would naturally be intercepted by the first mountains or forests they approached. But I pretend to little philosophical knowledge in these matters; I write from experience, and can thence, moreover, assert that mountains with snow upon them are not so cold as they would be without it; and that mountains covered with trees are the coldest of all places, but without trees are not so cold as forests or plains. I am clearly of opinion, therefore, that not the lakes or rivers, but the infinite quantity of timber in the immense regions of North-America, whether upon mountains or not, is the grand cause of the coldness of the winters in Connecticut. I will add, moreover, in support of my argument, that beasts, in the coldest weather, are observed to quit the woods and woody mountains for lakes, rivers, and cultivated open country; and that Connecticut, having lost most of its timber, is by no means so intensely cold in winter as it was forty years ago, and as Susquehanna is at present, a wilderness in the same latitude. The snow and ice commonly cover the country, without rains, from Christmas to March; then rains, attended with boisterous winds from the north and east, melt the snow, which converting brooks into rivers and rivers into seas, in four or five days the ice is rent from its groaning banks in such mighty sheets as it shakes the earth for twenty miles. Nature being thus in convulsions, the winds turn her fit into madness, by driving ice upon ice, whose thunders cease not till the ocean swallows up the whole.

It is but natural to suppose that the summers in Connecticut are much hotter than those in England; nevertheless, from the clearness and serenity of the sky, the climate is healthy both to natives and foreigners of all nations. Connecticut is a hospital for invalids of the Islands and southern provinces; but, in general, they no sooner amend their own constitution, than the pestilence, which rages in that province, drives them to Rhode-Island or New-York, where fanaticism is lost in irreligion.

The people of Connecticut reckon time almost five hours later than the English. The longest day consists of fifteen hours, the shortest of nine. The brightness of the sun, moon, and stars, together with the reverberated rays on ice, snow, water, trees, mountains, pebbles, and flat stones, dazzle and weaken the eyes of the New-Englanders to such a degree, that, in general, they are obliged to use glasses before they are fifty years of age. For the most part, also, they have bad teeth, which has been ascribed to the extreme heats and colds of summer and winter; but, as the Indians and negroes in the same climate have remarkably good teeth, it may be said, with great reason, that the many indulgences of the one, and the temperance of the other, and not the heats and colds, are the causes of good and bad teeth.

_Soil and Produce._--The soil is various in different parts of the province: in some black, in others brown, and elsewhere red, but all rich. Some plains are sandy and of a whitish colour, and they produce rye, beans, and Indian-corn. The meadows and lowlands are excellent pasturage, and yield great crops of hay. The hills and uplands have a rich, deep soil, but are subject to droughts in July and August, which in many places are relieved by water drawn from rivers, ponds, and brooks, in troughs and ditches. The crops of European grain are always good, when the snow, which in general is the only manure, covers the earth from December to March. One acre generally yields from twenty to thirty bushels of wheat; of Indian-corn, from forty to sixty bushels on even land, and from thirty to forty on hilly land; but it is to be observed, that one bushel of it raised on hilly land weighs thirteen pounds more than a bushel raised on river land. All European grains flourish here, and the grass is as thick, and much longer than in England. Maize, or Indian-corn, is planted in hillocks three feet apart, five kernels and two pumpkin-seeds in a hillock, and between the hills are planted ten beans in a hillock; so that, if the season prove favourable, the beans and the pumpkins are worth as much as the corn. If from an acre the crop of corn be twenty bushels, add the beans and pumpkins, and it will be equal to sixty bushels; so, if there be sixty bushels of corn, a proportionate growth of beans and pumpkins will render the product equal to one hundred and eighty bushels. One man plants an acre in a day; in three days he hoes the same three times; and six days more suffice for plowing and gathering the crop. For these ten days’ work the price is thirty shillings; and, allowing ten shillings for the use of the land, the whole expense is two pounds, and no more, while the corn is worth two shillings a bushel. The gain is seldom less than 300, and often 600 per cent. It is thus that the poor man becomes rich in a few years, if prudent and industrious.

The limits of Connecticut are reckoned to comprise 5,000,000 acres, half of which is supposed to be swallowed up in rivers, ponds, creeks, and roads. The inhabitants are estimated at 200,000, so that there remains but twelve and a half acres for each individual. Let it now be considered that the people buy no provisions from other provinces, but, on the contrary, export full as much as they consume, and it will appear that each person has in fact only six and a quarter acres for his own support, two of which must be set apart for the growth of wood, the only fuel of the colony. Should I, then, not be justified in saying that Connecticut is as good and flourishing land as any part of Great Britain?

The face of the country resembles Devonshire, Gloucestershire, Surrey, and Kent. The farmers divide their lands into four, five, and ten acres, with stone walls or post and rails. The roads from north to south are generally level and good; from east to west hilly, and bad for carriages. The various fruits are in greater perfection than in England. The peach and apple are more luscious, beautiful, and large; 1000 peaches are produced from one tree; five or six barrels of cider from one apple tree. Cider is the common drink at table. The inhabitants have a method of purifying cider by frost and separating the watery part from the spirit, which, being secured in proper vessels, and colored by Indian-corn, becomes in three months so much like Madeira wine, that Europeans drink it without perceiving the difference. They make peachy and perry, grape, cherry, and currant wines, and good beer of pumpkin, molasses, bran of wheat, spruce, and malt. The spruce is the leaves and limbs of the fir tree; their malt is made of maize, barley, oats, rye, chets, and wheat. The pumpkin, or pompion, is one of the greatest blessings, and held very sacred in New-England. It is a native of America. From one seed often grow forty pumpkins, each weighing from forty to sixty pounds, and, when ripe, of the colour of a marigold. Each pumpkin contains about 500 seeds, which, being boiled to a jelly, is the Indian infallible cure for the strangury. Of its meat are made beer, bread, custards, sauce, molasses, vinegar, and, on thanksgiving days, pies, as a substitute for what the Blue Laws brand as anti-christian minced pies. Its skin, or shell, serves as a cap to cut the hair by, (as already mentioned,) and very useful lanthorns. There are no trees, grain, or fruits, growing in England but what will grow in Connecticut. The English oak has been thought much superior to the American. Whatever policy may be in this opinion, I will venture to say there is no truth in it in respect to the white oak in Connecticut, which is tough, close, hard, and elastic as the whalebone dried. The red, black, and chestnut oak are, indeed, much inferior to the white oak. The ash, elm, beech, chestnut, walnut, hazel, sassafras, sumach, maple, and butternut, are the chief timber trees of this province, and grow to an amazing bulk. The last is a native of America, and takes its name from a nut it produces, of the shape and size of a pullet’s egg, which contains a meat much larger than an English walnut, in taste like fresh butter; it also makes an excellent pickle. The butternut furnishes fine but tender boards; and its bark dyes black, and cures cutaneous disorders. In February this tree yields a sap, of which are made sugar, molasses, and vinegar. The upland maple also affords a sap equally good, and both saps make a pleasant beverage without boiling, and the best punch ever drank in Connecticut.

Here are many iron mines, nay, mountains of iron ore; and, if they had been attended to with the same diligence as the farms, they would have supplied Great Britain with iron, to the great prejudice of Sweden and other European nations. For this commercial loss the inhabitants are indebted to their own quarrels, jealousy, and religious feuds, together with the intrigues of their neighbours. Some pig and bar iron they send, out of pure spite or folly, to New-York and Boston, to be shipped for England by the merchants there, who always pay so much less for it as the duty on Swedish iron amounts to, so that Connecticut allows a duty to these merchants which they do not pay themselves.

English, Barbary, and Dutch horses abound in this province; they are not so heavy, but more mettlesome and hardy than in England. Here are more sheep than in any two colonies in America; their wool also is better than that of the sheep in any of the other colonies, yet not so fine and good as the English. A common sheep weighs sixty pounds, and sells for a dollar, or 4_s._ 6_d._ The horned cattle are not so large as the English; yet there have been a few instances of oxen six years old weighing 1900 pounds each. The fat hogs here excel any in England; many weigh five or six hundred pounds. Connecticut pork is far superior to any other.

There are only two small parks of deer in Connecticut, but plenty of rabbits, hares, grey, black, striped and red squirrels, otters, minks, raccoons, weasels, foxes, whapperknockers, woodchucks, cubas, and skunks. The following description of the four last-mentioned animals may be new to the reader:

The whapperknocker is somewhat larger than a weasel, and of a beautiful brown colour. He lives in the woods on worms and birds; is so wild that no one can tame him, and, as he never quits his harbour in the daytime, is only to be taken by traps in the night. Of the skins of these animals--which are covered with an exceedingly fine fur--are made muffs, at the price of thirty or forty guineas apiece; so that it is not without reason the ladies pride themselves on the possession of this small appurtenance of female habiliment.

The woodchuck, erroneously called the badger by some persons, is of the size of a large raccoon, in form resembles a Guinea pig, and, when eating, makes a noise like a hog, whence he is named woodchuck, or chuck of wood. His legs are short, but his claws sharp, teeth strong, and courage great on occasions of self-defence. He burrows in the earth, feeds on clover and pumpkin during summer, and sleeps all the winter. His flesh is good to eat, and his skin makes excellent leather.

The cuba I suppose to be peculiar to New-England. The male is of the size of a large cat; has four long tushes sharp as a razor; he is very active in defending himself, and, if he has the first blow, will spoil a dog before he yields. His lady is peaceable and harmless, and depends for protection on her spouse, and, as he has more courage than prudence, always attends him to moderate his temper. She sees danger, and he fears it not. She chatters at him while he is preparing for battle, and, if she thinks the danger is too great, she runs to him and clings about his neck, screaming her extreme distress; his wrath abates, and by her advice they fly to their caves. In like manner, when he is chained, and irritated into the greatest rage by an impertinent dog, his lady, who is never chained, will fly about his neck and kiss him, and in half a minute restore him to calmness. He is very tender of his family, and never forsakes them till death dissolves their union. What further shows the magnanimity of this little animal, he never manifests the least anger towards his lady, though I have often seen her extremely loquacious, and, as I guessed, impertinent to him. How happy would the rational part of the creation become if they would follow the example of these irrational beasts! I the more readily suppose the cuba to be peculiar to New-England, not only from my never having yet seen the creature described, but also on account of its perverse observance of carnival and neglect of _carême_.

The skunk is also peculiar to America, and very different from the pole-cat, which he is sometimes called. He is black, striped with white, and of the size of a small raccoon, with a sharp nose. He burrows in the earth like a fox, feeds like a fox on fowls and eggs, and has strong teeth and claws like a fox. He has long hair, and thick, good fur; is the beauty of the wilderness; walks slowly, and cannot run as fast as a man; he is not wild, but very familiar with every creature. His tail, which is shaggy and about one foot in length, he turns over his back at pleasure, to make himself appear larger and higher than he really is. When his tail is thus lying on his back he is prepared for war, and generally conquers every enemy that lives by air, for on this lies his only weapon: about one inch from his body or rump, in a small bladder or bag, which is full of essence, whose tint is of the brightest yellow, and odour somewhat like the smell of garlic, but far more exquisite and piercing than any volatile spirit known to chemists. One drop will scent a house to such a degree that musk, with the help of brimstone and tar burnt, will not expel it in six months. The bladder in which this essence lies is worked by the animal like an engine, pump, or squirt; and when the creature is assaulted, he turns his head from his enemy and discharges from his tail the essence, which fills the neighbouring air with a mist that destroys the possibility of living in it. I have seen a large house-dog, by one discharge of the skunk, retire with shame and sickness; and, at another time, a bullock bellowing as if a dog had held him by the nose. Were it not for man, no creature could kill this animal, which, instead of the lion, ought to be crowned king of animals, as well on account of his virtues and complaisance as his courage. He knows his forte; he fears nothing, he conquers all; yet he is civil to all, and never gives, as he will not take, offence. His virtues are many. The wood of calambac, which cures fainting-fits and strokes of the palsy, and is worth its weight in gold, is far less valuable than the above-mentioned essence of this animal. The bag is extracted whole from the tail, and the essence preserved in glass; nothing else will confine it. One drop sufficiently impregnates a quart of spring water, and half a gill of water thus impregnated is a dose. It cures hiccups, asthmatic, hysteric, paralytic, and hectic disorders, and the odour prevents faintness. The flesh of this animal is excellent food, and its oil cures sprains and contractions of the sinews.

The feathered tribe in Connecticut are the turkey, geese, ducks, and all kinds of barn-door poultry; innumerable flocks of pigeons, which fly to the south in the autumn; cormorants of all sizes; hawks, owls, ravens, and crows; partridges, quails, heath-hen, blackbirds, snipes, larks, humility’s, whippoorwills, dew-minks, robins, wrens, swallows, sparrows, the flax, crimson, white, and blue birds, &c. &c.; to which I may add the humming-bird, though it might wantonly be styled the empress of the honey-bees, partaking with them of the pink, tulip, rose, daisy, and other aromatics.

The partridges in New-England are nearly as large as a Dorking fowl, the quail as an English partridge, and the robin twice as big as those in England. The dew-mink, so named from its articulating those syllables, is black and white, and the size of an English robin. Its flesh is delicious. The humility is so called because it speaks the word humility, and seldom mounts high in the air. Its legs are long enough to enable it to outrun a dog for a little way; its wings long and narrow; body maigre and of the size of a blackbird’s; plumage variegated with white, black, blue, and red. It lives on tadpoles, spawn, and worms; has an eye more piercing than the falcon, and the swiftness of an eagle; hence it can never be shot, for it sees the sparks of fire even before it enkindles the powder, and by the extreme rapidity of its flight gets out of reach in an instant. It is never known to light upon a tree, but is always seen upon the ground or wing. These birds appear in New-England in summer only; what becomes of them afterwards is not discovered. They are caught in snares, but can never be tamed.

The whippoorwill has so named itself by its nocturnal songs. It is also called the Pope, by reason of its darting with great swiftness from the clouds to the ground and bawling out Pope, which alarms young people and the fanatics very much, especially as they know it to be an ominous bird. However, it has hitherto proved friendly, always giving travellers and others notice of an approaching storm by saluting them every minute by Pope! pope! It flies only a little before sunset, unless for this purpose of giving notice of a storm: It never deceives the people with false news. If the tempest is to continue long, the augurs appear in flocks, and nothing can be heard but Pope! pope! The whippoorwill is about the size of a cuckoo, has a short beak, long and narrow wings, a large head, and mouth enormous, yet is not a bird of prey. Under its throat is a pocket, which it fills with air at pleasure, whereby it sounds forth the fatal word Pope in the day, and Whip-her-I-will in the night. The superstitious inhabitants would have exorcised this harmless bird long ago, as an emissary from Rome and an enemy to the American Vine, had they not found out that it frequents New-England only in the summer, and prefers the wilderness to a palace. Nevertheless, many cannot but believe it a spy from some foreign court, an agent of antichrist, a lover of persecution, and an enemy of protestants, because it sings of whipping, and of the Pope, which they think portends misery and a change of religion.

The principal insects are the hornet, bull-fly, glow-bug, humble-bee, and black and yellow wasp.

The bull-fly is armed with a coat of mail, which it can move from one place to another, as sliders to a window are moved. Its body is about an inch long, and its horns half an inch, very sharp and strong. It has six feet, with claws as sharp as needles, and runs fast. In sucking the blood or juice of its prey, the creature holds the same in its claws; otherwise the prey is carried between its horns.

The glow-bug both crawls and flies, and is about half an inch long. These insects fly, in the summer evenings, nearly seven feet from the ground, in such multitudes that they afford sufficient light for the people to walk by. The brightness, however, is interrupted by twinklings; but they are instantaneous and short as those of the eye, so that darkness no sooner takes place than it vanishes.

The humble-bee is almost as large as the humming-bird, but cannot fly near so fast. It builds its nest in the ground, where it makes a honey-comb of the size of a man’s hand, and fills it with bees’-bread, wax, and honey, excelling that of the honey-bee in taste. Two or three begun, and having shortly multiplied to about forty, the young ones leave home as soon as they can fly, to begin new settlements. These bees are wrongly named: they are warriors, and only want a quantity of poison to be more fatal than rattle-snakes.

The honey-bees can sting but once, while the humble-bee will sting a thousand times. Their body is black and white; wings of a Doric colour; sight piercing, hearing quick, and temper cruel.