Part 4

I have been in a sulky fit half the day, because people will keep walking in and out of our room, without leave or license, which is coming a great deal too soon to Hope's idea of Heaven. I am delighted to see my friends, but I like to tell them so, and not that they should take it for granted. When I made my appearance in my dressing-gown (my clothes not being come, and the day too hot for a silk pelisse), great was my amazement to find our whole ship's company assembled at the table. After breakfast they dispersed, and I sat writing journal, and playing, and singing. Colonel ---- and Mr. ---- called. Our Boston friends leave us to-day for their homes. I am sorry to lose them, though I think H---- will be the better for rest. Mrs. ---- called to see D---- to-day. I remember her name, as one of the first things I do remember. A visit from a Mr. ----, one of the directors of the Custom-House, and W---- P----, brother to the proprietor of the Park theatre, who is a lawyer of considerable reputation here. The face of the first was good, the other's clever. I said nothing, as usual, and let them depart in peace. We dined at half-past two, with the H----s and Mr. ----. At half-past three we walked down to the quay to convoy them to their steam-boat, which looked indeed like a "castle on the main." We saw them on board, went down and looked at the state cabin, which was a magnificent room, and would have done charmingly for a gallopade. We bade our new friends, whom I like better than some old ones, good-by, and walked briskly on to the Battery, to see them as they passed it. The sun was intensely hot; and as I struggled forward, hooked up to this young Sheffield giant, I thought we were the living illustration of Hood's "Long and Short" of it. We gained the battery, and saw the steam-boat round; our travellers kept the deck with "hat and glove and handkerchief," as long as we could see them. This Battery is a beautiful marine parade, commanding the harbour and entrance of the bay, with Governor's Island, and its dusky red fort, and the woody shores of New Jersey and Long Island. A sort of public promenade, formed of grass plots, planted with a variety of trees, affords a very agreeable position from whence to enjoy the lovely view. My companion informed me that this was a fashionable resort some time ago; but owing to its being frequented by the lowest and dirtiest of the rabble, who in this land of liberty roll themselves on the grass, and otherwise annoy the more respectable portion of the promenaders, it has been much deserted lately, and is now only traversed by the higher classes as a thoroughfare. The trees and grass were vividly and luxuriantly green; but the latter grew rank and long, unshorn and untidy. "Oh," thought I, "for a pair of English shears, to make these green carpets as smooth and soft and thick as the close-piled Genoa velvet." It looked neglected and slovenly. Came home up Broadway, which is a long street of tolerable width, full of shops, in short the American Oxford Road, where all people go to exhibit themselves and examine others. The women that I have seen hitherto have all been very gaily dressed, with a pretension to French style, and a more than English exaggeration of it. They all appear to me to walk with a French shuffle, which, as their pavements are flat, I can only account for by their wearing shoes made in the French fashion, which are enough in themselves to make a waddler of the best walker that ever set foot to earth. Two or three were pretty girls; but the town being quite empty, these are probably bad specimens of the graces and charms that adorn Broadway in its season of shining. Came home and had tea; after which my father, I, and Mr. ---- crossed the Park (a small bit of grass enclosed in white palings, in plain English, a green) to the theatre. Wallack was to act in the Rent Day. Mercy, how strange I felt as I once more set foot in a theatre; the sound of the applause set my teeth on edge. The house is pretty, though rather gloomy, well formed, about the size of the Haymarket, with plenty of gold carving, and red silk about it, looking rich and warm. The audience was considerable, but all men; scarce, I should think, twenty women in the dress circle, where, by the by, as well as in the private boxes, I saw men sitting with their hats on. The Rent Day is a thorough melodrama, only the German monster has put on a red waistcoat and top boots. Nathless this is a good thing of a bad sort: the incidents, though not all probable, or even as skilfully tacked together as they might be, are striking and dramatically effective, and the whole piece turns on those home feelings, those bitterest realities of every-day life, that wring one's heart, beyond the pain that one allows works of fiction to excite. As for the imitation of Wilkie's pictures, the first was very pretty, but the second I did not see, my face being buried in my handkerchief, besides having a quarter less seven fathom of tears over it, at the time. I cried most bitterly during the whole piece; for as in his very first scene Wallack asks his wife if she will go with him to America, and she replies, "What! leave the farm?" I set off from thence and ceased no more. The manager's wife and another woman were in the box, which was his, and I thought we should have carried away the front of it with our tears. Wallack played admirably: I had never seen him before, and was greatly delighted with his acting. I thought him handsome of a rustic kind, the very thing for the part he played, a fine English yeoman: he reminded me of ----. At the end of the play, came home with a tremendous headach: sat gossiping and drinking lemonade. Presently a tap at the door came, and through the door came Mr. ----. I shook hands with him, and began expatiating on the impertinence of people's not enquiring down stairs whether we were at home or not before they came up--I don't believe he took my idea. Mr. ---- came in to bid us good-by: he starts to-morrow for Baltimore. He is a nice good-tempered young Irishman, with more tongue than brains, but still clever enough: I am sorry he is going. Came to bed-room at eleven, remained up till one, unpacking goods and chattels. Mercy on me, what a cargo it is! They have treated us like ambassadors, and not one of our one-and-twenty huge boxes have been touched.

_Thursday, 6th._

Rose at eight. After breakfast, began writing to my brother; while doing so they brought up Captain ----'s and Mr. ----'s cards. I was delighted to see our dear Captain again, who, in spite of his glorious slip-slop, is a glorious fellow. They sat some time. Colonel ---- called--he walks my father off his legs. When they were all gone, finished letter and wrote journal. Unpacked and sorted things. Opened with a trembling heart my bonnet-box, and found my precious _Dévy_ squeezed to a crush--I pulled it out, rebowed, and reblonded, and reflowered it, and now it looks good enough "pour les _tha_uvages, mam_the_lle Fannie." Worked at my muslin gown; in short, did a deal. A cheating German woman came here this morning with some bewitching canezous and pelerines: I chose two that I wanted, and one very pretty one that I didn't; but as she asked a heathen price for 'em, I took only the former;--dear good little me![1] We dined at five. After dinner, sang and played to my father, "all by the light of the moon." The evening was, as the day had been, lovely; and as I stood by his side near the open window, and saw him inhaling the pure fresh air, which he said invigorated and revived him, and heard him exclaim upon the beauty of our surroundings, half of my regret for this exile melted away.

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He said to me, "Is there not reason to be grateful to God, when we look at these fair things?"--and indeed, indeed, there is: yet these things are not to me what they were. He told me that he had begun a song on board ship for the last Saturday night, but that, not feeling well, he had given it up, but the very same ideas I had made use of had occurred to him.

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This is not surprising; the ideas were so obvious that there was no escaping them. My father is ten years younger since he came here, already.

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Colonel ---- came in after tea, and took my father off to the Bowery theatre. I remained with D----, singing and stitching, and gossiping till twelve o'clock. My father has been introduced to half the town, and tells me that far from the democratic _Mister_, which he expected to be every man's title here, he had made the acquaintance of a score of municipal dignitaries, and some sixty colonels and major generals--of militia. Their omnibuses are vehicles of rank, and the _Ladies_ Washington, Clinton, and Van Rensalear,[2] rattle their crazy bones along the pavement for all the world like any other old women of quality.

These democrats are as title-sick as a banker's wife in England. My father told me to-day, that Mr. ----, talking about the state of the country, spoke of the lower orders finding their level: now this enchants me, because a republic is a natural anomaly; there is nothing republican in the construction of the material universe; there be highlands and lowlands, lordly mountains as barren as any aristocracy, and lowly valleys as productive as any labouring classes. The feeling of rank, of inequality, is inherent in us, a part of the veneration of our natures; and like most of our properties seldom finds its right channels--in place of which it has created artificial ones suited to the frame of society into which the civilised world has formed itself. I believe in my heart that a republic is the noblest, highest, and purest form of government; but I believe that, according to the present disposition of human creatures, 'tis a mere beau ideal, totally incapable of realisation. What the world may be fit for six hundred years hence, I cannot exactly perceive; but in the mean time, 'tis my conviction that America will be a monarchy before I am a skeleton.

One of the curses of living at an inn in this unceremonious land:--Dr. ---- walked in this evening accompanied by a gentleman, whom he forthwith introduced to us. I behaved very _ill_, as I always do on these occasions; but 'tis an impertinence, and I shall take good care to certify such to be my opinion of these free-and-easy proceedings. The man had a silly manner, but he may be a genius for all that. He abused General Jackson, and said the cholera was owing to his presidency; for that Clay had predicted that when he came into power, battle, pestilence, and famine, would come upon the land: which prophecy finds its accomplishment thus: they have had a war with the Indians, the cholera has raged, and the people, flying from the infected cities to the country, have eaten half the farmers out of house and home. This hotel reminds me most extremely of our "iligant" and untidy apartments in dear nasty Dublin, at the Shelbourne. The paper in our bed-room is half peeling from the walls, our beds are without curtains: then to be sure there are pier looking-glasses, and one or two pieces of showy French furniture in it. 'Tis customary, too, here, I find, for men to sleep three or four in a room: conceive an Englishman shown into a dormitory for half-a-dozen! I can't think how they endure it; but, however, I have a fever at all those things. My father asked me, this evening, to write a sonnet about the wild pigeons welcoming us to America; I had thought of it with scribbling intent before, but he wants me to get it up here, and that sickened me.

_Friday, 7th._

Rose at eight: after breakfast tidied my dressing-box, mended and tucked my white muslin gown--wrote journal: while doing so, Colonel ---- came to take leave of us for a few days: he is going to join his wife in the country. Mr. ---- called and remained some time; while he was here, the waiter brought me word that a Mr. ---- wanted to see me. I sent word down that my father was out, knowing no such person, and supposing the waiter had mistaken whom he asked for; but the gentleman persisted in seeing me, and presently in walked a good-looking elderly man, who introduced himself as Mr. ----, to whom my father had letters of introduction. He sat himself down, and pottered a little, and then went away. When he was gone, Mr. ---- informed me that this was one of _the_ men of New York, in point of wealth, influence, and consideration. He had been a great auctioneer, but had retired from business, having, among his other honours, filled the office of Mayor of New York. My father and Mr. ---- went to put our letters in the post: I practised and needle-worked till dinner-time; after dinner, as I stood at the window looking at the lovely sky and the brilliant earth, a curious effect of light struck me. Within a hundred yards of each other, the Town-Hall lay, with its white walls glowing in the sunset, while the tall grey church-steeple was turning pale in the clear moonlight. That Town Hall is a white-washed anomaly, and yet its effect is not altogether bad. I took a bath at the house behind it, which is very conveniently arranged for that purpose, with a French sort of gallery, all papered with the story of Psyche in lead-coloured paper, that reminded me of the doughy immortals I used to admire so much, at the inns at Abbeville and Montreuil. The house was kept by a foreigner--I knew it. My father proposed to us a walk, and we accordingly sallied forth. We walked to the end of Broadway, a distance of two miles, I should think, and then back again. The evening was most lovely. The moon was lighting the whole upper sky, but every now and then, as we crossed the streets that led to the river, we caught glimpses of the water, and woody banks, and the sky that hung over them; which all were of that deep orange tint, that I never saw but in Claude's pictures. After walking nearly a mile up Broadway, we came to Canal Street: it is broader and finer than any I have yet seen in New York; and at one end of it, a Christian church, copied from some Pagan temple or other, looked exceedingly well, in the full flood of silver light that streamed from heaven. There were many temptations to look around, but the flags were so horribly broken and out of order, that to do so was to run the risk of breaking one's neck:--this is very bad.[3] The street was very much thronged, and I thought the crowd a more civil and orderly one than an English crowd. The men did not jostle or push one another, or tread upon one's feet, or kick down one's shoe heels, or crush one's bonnet into one's face, or turn it round upon one's head, all which I have seen done in London streets. There is this to be said: this crowd was abroad merely for pleasure, sauntering along, which is a thing never seen in London; the proportion of idle loungers who frequent the streets there being very inconsiderable, when compared with the number of people going on business through the town. I observed that the young men to-night invariably made room for women to pass, and many of them, as they drew near us, took the cigar from their mouth, which I thought especially courteous.[4] They were all smoking, to a man, except those who were spitting, which helped to remind me of Paris, to which the whole place bore a slight resemblance. The shops appear to me to make no show whatever, and will not bear a comparison with the brilliant display of the Parisian streets, or the rich magnificence of our own, in that respect. The women dress very much, and very much like French women gone mad; they all of them seem to me to walk horribly ill, as if they wore tight shoes. Came in rather tired, took tea, sang an immensity, wrote journal, looked at the peerless moon, and now will go to bed.

_Saturday 8th._

Stitching the whole blessed day; and as I have now no maid to look after them, my clothes run some chance of being decently taken care of, and kept in order. Mr. ---- and his daughter called; I like him; he appears very intelligent; and the expression of his countenance is clever and agreeable. His daughter was dressed up in French clothes, and looked very stiff; but, however, a first visit is an awkward thing, and nothing that isn't thorough-bred ever does it quite well. When they were gone, Mr. ---- called. By the by, of Mr. ----, while he was speaking, he came to the word _calculate_, and stopping half way, substituted another for it, which made me laugh internally. Mercy on me! how sore all these people are about Mrs. Trollope's book, and how glad I am I did not read it. She must have spoken the truth though, for lies do not rankle so.

"Qui ne nous touche point ne nous fait pas rougir."

Worked till dinner-time. ---- dined with us: what a handsome man he is; but oh, what a within-and-without actor! I wonder whether I carry such a brand in every limb and look of me; if I thought so, I'd strangle myself. An actor shall be self-convicted, in five hundred. There is a ceaseless striving at effect, a straining after points in talking, and a lamp and orange-peel twist in every action. How odious it is to me! Absolute and unmitigated vulgarity I can put up with, and welcome; but good Heaven defend me from the genteel version of vulgarity! to see which in perfection, a country actor, particularly if he is also manager, and sees occasionally people who bespeak plays, is your best occasion. My dear father, who was a little elated, made me sing to him, which I greatly gulped at. When he was gone, went on playing and singing. Wrote journal, and now to bed. I'm dead of the side-ach.[5]

_Sunday, 9th._

Rose at eight. While I was dressing, D---- went out of the room, and presently I heard sundry exclamations: "Good God, is it you! How are you? How have you been?" I opened the door, and saw my uncle.

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