Part 28

We returned in time, as we flattered ourselves, to meet the steam-boat which leaves Troy for Albany at four; but, just as we were crossing the ferry, the steamer ran past us, leaving us, with eyes and mouths wide open, very much bothered as to how we were to get down to Albany. D---- proposed a row-boat, and the sense of the company seemed to agree thereto; but, upon driving to the inn where we hired our carriage, and enquiring for such a conveyance, we were assured that there was no such thing to be had: whereupon my father, good easy man! believed there was not, and got into the coach again. Mr. ----, however, had absconded, and remained gone so long, that I began to think he had, perhaps, started to swim down the river; when he presently appeared, informing us that he had gotten a boat for us. We jumped readily out of the coach; and, though my father had actually made a bargain for the hire of it, to convey us to Albany, with the innkeeper, and, moreover, given him the money, the righteous man refunded the dollars; which, Falstaff knows, is a displeasing thing to do: "I hate that paying back!" Our row back was delightful: the evening was calm and lovely beyond description; the sun had lost his fierceness, and the warm air clasped the fresh woods tenderly; the waters were unbroken as a mirror; the very spirit of love and peace possessed the world: the effect of all which was to send me into a very sound sleep.

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We reached Albany in very good time for dinner. Mr. ---- dined with us: what a savage he is, in some respects! He's a curious being: a description of him would puzzle any one who had never seen him. A man with the proportions of a giant for strength and agility; taller, straighter, and broader than most men; yet with the most listless indolent carelessness of gait, and an uncertain wandering way of dropping his feet to the ground, as if he didn't know where he was going, and didn't much wish to go any where. His face is as dark as a Moor's; with a wild strange look about the eyes and forehead, and a mark like a scar upon his cheek: his whole appearance giving one an idea of toil, hardship, peril, and wild adventure. The expression of his mouth is remarkably mild and sweet, and his voice is extremely low and gentle. His hands are as brown as a labourer's: he never profanes them with gloves, but wears two strange magical-looking rings: one of them, which he showed me, is made of elephant's hair.

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Occasionally, in his horror of one class of prejudices, he embraces the opposite ones: perhaps the extreme of any evil, in this world of imperfect means, can only be effectually resisted by its reverse extreme.

_Monday, 8th._

After breakfast, went to rehearsal: Mr. ---- came with us. The actors were one and all reading their parts: the lady who played Charlotte was the only exception--she was perfect. As I sat on the stage, between my scenes, a fat, good-tempered, rosy, bead-eyed, wet-haired, shining-faced looking man accosted me; and, having ascertained that I was myself, proceeded to accuse me of having, in Mrs. Haller, pronounced the word "industry" with the accent on the middle syllable, as "in_dus_try;" adding, that he had already quoted my authority to several people for the emphasis, and begging to know my "exquisite reason" therefor. It was in vain that I urged that it must have been a mistake if I said so; that I never meant to say so, if I did say so; that if I did say so, I was very wrong to say so; that I was very sorry for having said so; that I never would say so again. Between each of my humblest apologies my accuser merely replied, "But you _did_ say in_dus_try," with an inflexible pertinacity of condemnation, which was not a whit softened by my sincere confessions. Presently the worthy creature, adverting to the letter in the Mirror about General Jackson, begged that as I had passed the fourth of July, that glorious anniversary, in Albany, I would illustrate its celebration by some remarks in the style of that admirable composition. Great was the fat man's surprise, and evident his contempt for me, when I disclaimed the authorship of that document. Greater still waxed both, when I assured him that on the fourth of July I positively walked out of the town, to avoid the noise in it. After this, he remained gazing at me in silent amazement; and, as soon as he had sufficiently recovered from it to move, he took up his hat, and briefly wished me "good morning." Mr. ---- told me the man was a newspaper-editor; but I think he looked too fat, and fresh, and good-tempered for that. When we returned home, sat down to write journal.

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The play was the Gamester: the house was very full. Mr. ---- did not know one syllable of his part, and bothered me utterly. At the end of the play, they called for my father, and civilly desired we would act the Hunchback; as, however, we had not the dresses for it with us, he declined, but promised we would return hereafter.

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_Tuesday, 9th._

After breakfast, the day being extremely fine, Mr. ---- urged us to go out, and take a walk; so forth we set, my father and I leading the way, and D---- and Mr. ---- following.

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We crossed the river, and, following the first road like a flock of geese errant, arrived at the top of a delightful breezy knoll, opposite a tiny waterfall, the rocks and basin of which were picturesque; but the water had been turned off to turn a mill. The hill where we stood commanded a beautiful view of the Hudson, Albany, and the shores stretching away into sunny indistinctness. My father, and D----, and Mr. ----, sat down under some oak trees: I ran off to explore the stream.

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After looking about in every direction, I returned to my friends: we strolled away through the woods and along the high road, with the sweet smell of mellow hay keeping us company the while. We halted at an orchard corner, near a pleasant-looking farm, where we all agreed we should like to live.

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Mr. ---- killed us with laughing with an account he gave us of some of Byron's sayings and doings, which were just as whimsical and eccentric as unamiable, but very funny. To-morrow we start for Utica: Mr. ---- comes with us: I am glad of it--I like him.

_Wednesday, 10th._

Just as we were getting into the railroad coach for Schenectady, a parcel was put into my hand: it was a letter from ----, and Pellico's "Mie Prigioni:" I was glad of it. At Schenectady we dined. By the by, I must not forget to mention the civility we met with from the people who kept the house. There have been so many instances given of the discomfort and discourteousness which travellers encounter in America, that it is but justice to record the reverse when one meets with it. For my own part, with very few exceptions, I have hitherto met with nothing but civility and attention of every description. We have almost always commanded private sitting, and single sleeping, rooms; have had our meals served in tolerable comfort and decency; and even on board the steam-boats, where every thing is done by shoal, I have found that, in spite of being an inveterate dawdle, and never ready at any of the bell-ringings, I have always had a place reserved for me, and enough to eat without fighting for it. But to return to our Schenectady hosts. The house was very full; and, while waiting for the canal boat, to avoid the gaping crowds with which all the rooms were filled, D---- and I walked out into the verandah, when a pretty lassie, the daughter, I conclude, of the house, invited us into a very nice private parlour, belonging to the family, where I found a fine piano, books, music, and all civilisation as well as civility. We proceeded by canal to Utica, which distance we performed in a day and a night, starting at two from Schenectady, and reaching Utica the next day at about noon. I like travelling by the canal boats very much. Ours was not crowded; and the country through which we passed being delightful, the placid moderate gliding through it, at about four miles and a half an hour, seemed to me infinitely preferable to the noise of wheels, the rumble of a coach, and the jerking of bad roads, for the gain of a mile an hour. The only nuisances are the bridges over the canal, which are so very low, that one is obliged to prostrate one's self on the deck of the boat, to avoid being scraped off it; and this humiliation occurs, upon an average, once every quarter of an hour. Mr. ---- read Don Quixote to us: he reads very peculiarly; slowly, and with very marked emphasis. He has a strong feeling of humour, as well as of poetry: in fact, they belong to each other; for humour is but fancy laughing, and poetry but fancy sad. The valley of the Mohawk, through which we crept the whole sunshining day, is beautiful from beginning to end; fertile, soft, rich, and occasionally approaching sublimity and grandeur in its rocks and hanging woods. We had a lovely day, and a soft blessed sunset, which, just as we came to a point where the canal crosses the river, and where the curved and wooded shores on either side recede, leaving a broad smooth basin, threw one of the most exquisite effects of light and colour I ever remember to have seen over the water and through the sky. The sun had scarce been down ten minutes from the horizon, when the deck was perfectly wet with the heaviest dew possible, which drove us down to the cabin. Here I fell fast asleep, till awakened by the cabin girl's putting her arms affectionately round me, and telling me that I might come and have the first choice of a berth for the night, in the horrible hen-coop allotted to the female passengers. I was too sleepy to acknowledge or avail myself of the courtesy; but the girl's manner was singularly gentle and kind. We sat in the men's cabin until they began making preparations for bed, and then withdrew into a room about twelve feet square, where a whole tribe of women were getting to their beds. Some half undressed, some brushing, some curling, some washing, some already asleep in their narrow cribs, but all within a quarter of an inch of each other: it made one shudder. As I stood cowering in a corner, half asleep, half crying, the cabin girl came to me again, and entreated me to let her make a bed for me. However, upon my refusing to undress before so much good company, or lie down in such narrow neighbourhood, she put D---- and myself in a small closet, where were four empty berths, where I presently fell fast asleep, where she established herself for the night, and where D----, wrapped up in a shawl, sat till morning under the half-open hatchway, breathing damp starlight.

_Thursday, 11th._

D----'s exclamations woke me in the morning: the day was breaking brightly, and the dewy earth was beginning to smile in the red dawn, when we approached Little Falls, a place where the placid gentle character of the Mohawk becomes wild and romantic, and beautifully picturesque. The canal is for some space cut through the solid rock, and the banks, high and bold, were crowned with tangled woods, and gemmed with wild flowers, and the delicate vivid tufts of fern. It was exceedingly beautiful; and though I believe I missed some part of the scenery immediately surrounding Little Falls, the approach to it, which is of the same nature, enchanted me extremely. When we arrived at Utica, I gave the nice cabin-girl my silver needle-case: her tenderness and care of me the night before made it impossible for me to offer her money. She took my gift, and, throwing her arms round my neck, kissed me very fervently for it. I was struck with her manner, which had appeared to me, in discharge of her common duties, reserved, and rather dignified. This exhibition of feeling surprised me therefore; and together with her dark eyes, hair, and complexion, made me think she must have foreign blood in her veins. I asked her, but she said no: American by birth, English by descent: certainly she had neither the face nor bearing of the one or the other. She was a very singular and striking looking person. As for Mr. ----, he fell in love with her forthwith, and, I think, had half a mind to settle on the Mohawk, and make her his fellow farmer. At Utica we dined; and after dinner I slept profoundly. The gentlemen, I believe, went out to view the town, which twenty years ago _was not_, and now is a flourishing place, with fine-looking shops, two or three hotels, good broad streets, and a body of lawyers, who had a supper at the house where we were staying, and kept the night awake with champagne, shouting, toasts, and clapping of hands: so much for the strides of civilisation through the savage lands of this new world. The house was full, and we could not get a room to ourselves; so we sat in a corner of the large dining-room. Passed the evening in writing journal. Mr. ---- showed me his of Sunday last.

_Friday, 12th._

We all breakfasted early together, and immediately after breakfast got into an open carriage and set off for Trenton. D---- and my father sat beside each other, and I opposite them; Mr. ---- on the box; and so we progressed. The day was bright and breezy: the country was all smiling round us in rich beauty; the ripening sheets of waving grain; the sloping fields, with here and there the grey tomb-stone of a forest tree; the vivid thickets bounding the pale harvest plots; the silvery-looking fences, with their irregular lines relieved against the dark woods; the clear sky above; all was lovely. About seven miles from Utica, we stopped to water the horses at a lonely road-side house: we alighted, and without ceremony strolled into the garden,--a mere wilderness of overgrown sweet briar, faint breathing dog-roses, and flaunting red poppies, overshadowed by some orchard trees, from which we stole sundry half-ripe cherries. The place was desolate, I believe; yet we lingered in it, and did not think it so. We got into the carriage again: the remaining eight miles of our journey were as beautiful and as bad as the preceding ones had been. I thought of our dark drive back through these miry and uneven ways. At last we reached the house at which visiters to the Falls put up; a large comfortable dwelling enough, kept by a couple of nice young people, who live in this solitude all the year round, and maintain themselves and a beautiful big baby by the profits they derive from the pilgrims to Trenton. We ordered dinner, and set forth to the Falls, with our host for guide. We crossed a small wood immediately adjoining the house, and, descending several flights of steps connected by paths in the rocky bank, we presently stood on the brink of the channel, where the water was boiling along, deep, and black, and passing away like time. We followed along the rocky edge: the path is not more than a foot wide, and is worn into all manner of unevenness and cavities, and slippery with the eternal falling of the spray. ---- walked before me: we dared not turn our heads, for fear of tumbling into the black whirlpool below. We walked on steadily, warning each other at every step, and presently we arrived at the first fall, where the rest of our party were halting. I can't describe it: I don't know either its height or width; I only know it was extremely beautiful, and came pouring down like a great rolling heap of amber. The rocks around are high to the heavens, scooped, and singularly regular; and the sides of the torrent are every now and then paved with large smooth layers of rock, as even and regular in their proportions as if the fairies had done the work. After standing before the tumbling mass of water for a length of time, we climbed to the brink above, and went on. Mr. ---- flung himself down under a roof of rock by the waterfall. My father, D----, and the guide, went on out of sight, and ---- and I loitered by the rapid waters, flinging light branches and flowers upon the blood-coloured torrent, that whirled, and dragged, and tossed them down to the plunge beneath. When we came to the beautiful circular fall, we crept down to a narrow ridge, and sat with our feet hanging over the black caldron, just opposite a vivid rainbow that was clasping the waterfall. We sat here till I began to grow dizzy with the sound and motion of the churning darkness beneath us, and begged to move, which we did very cautiously. I was in an agony lest we should slip from the narrow dripping ledges along which we crawled. We wandered on, and stopped again at another fall, upon a rocky shelf overhanging the torrent, beside the blasted and prostrate trunk of a large tree. I was tired with walking, and ---- was lifting me up to seat me on the fallen tree, when we saw Mr. ---- coming slowly towards us. He stopped and spoke to us, and presently passed on; we remained behind, talking, and dipping our hands into the fresh water. At length we rejoined the whole party, sitting by a narrow channel, where the water looked like ink. Beyond this our guide said it was impossible to go: I was for ascertaining this by myself, but my father forbade me to attempt the passage further. I was thirsty; and the guide having given me a beautiful strawberry and a pale blue-bell, that he had found, like a couple of jewels in some dark crevice of the rocks, I devoured the one, and then going down to the black water's edge, we dipped the fairy cup in, and drank the cold clear water, with which abundant draught I relieved my father's thirst also.[103] Around the place where we were resting, the rocks rose like circular walls up to the very sky. From their overhanging edges, tiny threads of water fell upon the rocky pavement beneath, with a silver glancing, and a clear plashing tone, that sounded even amid the hoarse talking of the dark waters below. In some mould among these cliffs, at their very highest edge, a tree had struck its roots, and, growing upside down, stretched its drooping green arms to the hurrying stream below, that would not tarry. We had walked, I suppose, a mile and a half along the water's side, and in this distance its course is broken by six beautiful cataracts. The variety of the colour of the water, occasioned by the various depths of its channel, and the different tints of the rocks over which it flows, is singular. Where the river expands, its rapid broken waves were of the darkest red-brown, like coffee; or rather, indeed, redder than that, like a deep blood colour: reaching the walls of rock, over which they fall into a lower bed, they became pouring masses of amber and diamonds, or soft thick heaps of whitest foam; and then again, in the deep narrow channels which received their headlong leaping, all was black as blackest night, and the waters were sucked away under the hollow rocks in inky eddies, that made me think of drowning with double horror. The several falls are very various in their height and forms, but they are all beautiful, most beautiful; not a place to visit for a day, but to live the summer away in.

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When we were all rested, we rose to retrace our steps: our guide was a man of some cultivation, and of much natural refinement, with a strong feeling of the exquisite beauty of the scenes in which he was living. These falls are upon his own land, belong to him, and he pointed out to us a spot beside the torrent where, he said, he had read all Byron's works: this pleased me. Returning, I thought the path even more difficult than it was before: there is a chain fastened along the rock where it narrows, for the security of persons walking: this has been put up since the lamentable loss of a young girl, who, following her party along this slippery path, missed her footing, and was swept into a foaming whirlpool, whence nothing could ever emerge. Our guide told us of another terrible accident, which happened not long before we were there. A young lady and her lover were going along the water side, and, in order to retain hold of her hand, he walked upon a narrow ridge, where he could hardly balance himself: the girl said, "Oh, if you walk there, I shall let you go:" she did so, and in the same instant he slipped from the rock and was dragged away to that dark death.[104]

The chain upon the rock was about as high as my shoulder; but when the river is swollen, it constantly rises above the chain: at which time, it is scarce possible to go any distance along its banks. This had been the case a short time before we were there. We returned to the house, and dined. After dinner, had a gossip with Mrs. ----, and a romp with her beautiful baby. I strolled into the garden: it was in disorder, and looked like a wilderness; but I saw some roses drooping their full bosoms to the earth, and I went to fetch them. Our host came with me: he said he had but little leisure to cultivate his garden, and could not well afford to have it kept in better order; that it supplied them with nearly all they required; and that, with his other occupations, he had hardly time to make it more than useful. I questioned him about the number of visiters who came to the falls. He said in summer there was a constant succession of them; but that in winter no one came there. Upon my expressing some surprise that people did not come, and remain for some weeks at least, in so beautiful a place, he told me that the generality of visiters were quite satisfied with an hour's stroll by the water; and that some had arrived at his door, alighted from their carriage, dined, sauntered round the house, and, _without even going down to the river_, returned to Utica quite satisfied with having been at Trenton. I was amazed. But the utter insensibility of the generality of Americans to the beauty and sublimity of nature is nothing short of amazing; and in this respect they literally appear to me to want a sense. I have been filled with astonishment and perplexity at the total indifference with which they behold scenes of grandeur and loveliness, that any creature, with half a soul, would gaze at with feelings almost of adoration. But in these glorious tabernacles of nature, where God's majesty seems, as it were, visibly resting on his works, I have seen Americans come and stare, and stand for a moment, and depart again, apparently impressed with nothing but the singularity of the man or woman who could remain there longer than they did. What can be the cause of this?--Is it possible that a perception of the beautiful in nature is a result of artificial cultivation?--is it that the grovelling narrowness of the usual occupations to which the majority addict themselves has driven out of them the fine spirit, which is God's altar in men's souls?--is it that they become incapable of beauty? Wretched people! They remind me, by contrast, as I see them toiling along the crowded streets of their cities, those dens of Mammon, of Wordsworth's noble description of him

"Who walk'd in glory and in joy, Behind his plough, upon the mountain side."

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