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.
Our Special Train—On the Rail—Eye-sores—The Quaker City—The Pennsylvania Railroad—Reminiscences—Excursions—The New Public Buildings—Mr. Childs and "The Ledger"—Mr. Simon Cameron—Baltimore—Arrival at Washington.
At 12.30 we landed at the Pennsylvania Terminus or Depôt, where our special train was in readiness, consisting of several Pullman palace-cars and the private car of President Roberts, and a staff of smart, well-uniformed coloured waiters, and, as we found, with an ample store of creature comforts. At the Depôt the experts examined the whole system of transportation of freight, stowage, passenger traffic, and baggage checking. As far as I could gather from Mr. Neale and the Directors, who applied their minds to the subject, the American system of checking luggage offers no advantages which would recommend its introduction in England, although it may be, and is, no doubt, exceedingly well suited to the United States, where passengers may have to travel thousands of miles continuously over different lines of railway with many breaks. It seemed to our London and North-Western Directors that English travellers would not put up with the delays which would be experienced in the transportation of their baggage from the railway stations to the hotels, under the American check system, and that they would prefer a short detention when the train arrived, in order to pick out their own property and carry it away with them bodily.
Presidents and vice-presidents of railways in this country are great powers, and exercise vast influence, if not in the State, at least on their own lines—aye, and farther too. On one occasion I was informed, when inquiring into the functions of the several officers of a great company, that one of them was charged especially with looking after those interests of the railway which might be affected by legislation—in other words, that he had to see lest the company should suffer detriment from the views of persons who might be returned to positions in which they might carry out theories dangerous to their monopoly. The distance from New York to Philadelphia is ninety miles, which, under ordinary circumstances, is traversed in two hours and a half, or thereabouts; but our special was timed to do it in considerably less. The train passes right through the streets of Jersey City, which would be considered a large town in the old country, and boasts of a population of nearly 90,000. As the bell of the engine tolled, women and children skipped out of the way or ran across the line, when they eluded the vigilance of the railway officials who lowered ingenious barriers as the train approached. But although they say "practice makes perfect," "killed by the cars" is a very ordinary head-line in the American newspapers. The country outside "Jersey City," which is like an ugly continuation of New York, is flat and uninteresting, but the low land which the railroad traverses is dotted by factories and industrial establishments of all kinds. We were soon aware that we were carrying with us the plague of hideous advertisements plastered upon walls, and even upon the natural features of the country, which we had observed in the environs of New York. From imperious commands to "smoke" somebody's "mixture" down to wheedling supplications to "use" somebody else's "oil," the eye encountered at every hundred yards on the hoardings, on the sides of houses, on trees and palings, the mendacious advertisements of quack doctors and sellers of patent or unpatent nostrums, frequently illustrated by woodcuts set forth in glaring colours. So close to Jersey City that we were scarcely aware that it was separated from it by a few fields, we came to Newark, a great town of brick and wood houses, chimneys, factories, and churches, containing more than 120,000 people, and as we ran through the streets we got glimpses of some fine-looking buildings, of which we have nothing more to say.
Then came Elizabeth City, with many well-to-do houses and country seats around, and some small mansions with patches of ground, which would not be quite dignified with the name of "park" in England. "New Brunswick," a manufacturing town of 20,000 people, thirty-two miles from New York, was specially commended to our notice on account of the College called Rutgers', and a few miles farther on we were told that we were passing Princetown College, which is one of the most celebrated institutions in the United States. "Trenton," the capital of New Jersey, is famous for its potteries, but to us it was chiefly attractive in connection with lunch, and we were whirled past the State House, the Penitentiary, and Lunatic Asylum at a speed unfavourable for the calm contemplation of the town which Washington made historical by the defeat he inflicted on the unfortunate subjects of the Grand Duke of Hesse, in the pay of King George. The conviction is growing upon my mind that the party of travellers, of which I have the honour of being one, is not likely to have much experience of actual American railway life, or much knowledge of the ordinary conditions in which people live in the United States. It is neither our fault nor misfortune that we are so specially well taken care of; but my recollection of what the traveller had to endure in crowded railway cars in former days, and in the rush and scuffle at the tables d'hôte of the hotels, whilst it induces me to congratulate myself and our friends on our exemption from such trials, is a satisfactory demonstration that we are not likely to gain much insight into the manners and customs of those who, like ourselves, are wandering over the face of the Union.
Passing a very small Bristol, the train brought us in sight of Philadelphia, where we were safely handed over to a number of gentlemen who were awaiting our arrival with most hospitable intent, and thence we were driven to the Continental Hotel. In the drive through the streets between the railway terminus and the hotel, our friends were very much struck by the fine appearance of the town, which was far superior to New York in the cleanliness of the streets, and quite rivalled the Empire City in the display in the shop-windows and the gay appearance of the large establishments in the main thoroughfares. At the Continental Hotel there was the usual crowd in the hall, before whom we had to defile on our way to our rooms, after the necessary process of inscription in the hotel registry. Then after a short interval for repose we made an excursion through the city, and drove out to the beautiful grounds of Fairmount Park, "the largest in any city in the world," in which stands all that remains of the buildings of the Great Exhibition. If I were writing a guide-book I might give some details, out of many with which our friends favoured us, respecting the World's Fair and the Quaker City, but I am rather inclined to make this a narrative of what we did. Marvellous as are most of the great cities in the States, in relation to their recent origin and extension, Philadelphia, which has a respectable antiquity, is entitled to a high place amongst the wondrous works of American man. In an old book which I came across, describing the colonies and settlements as they were 200 years ago, an anonymous writer, under the date of 1682, says:—"Philadelphia, our intended metropolis, is to be two miles long, and a mile broad. At each end it lies upon a navigable river. Besides the High Street that runs in the middle from river to river, and which is 100 feet broad, it has eight streets laid out to run the same course which are 50 feet broad. Besides Broad Street, which crosses the town in the middle, which is 100 feet broad, there are twenty streets that run the same course, also 50 feet broad. The names of these are to be taken from the things that spontaneously grow in this country, such as the Vine, the Mulberry, the Chestnut, Walnut, Filbert, and the like." And there, sure enough, they were inscribed on the corners of the houses as they are to be seen at this day.
At the Continental Hotel, which must be classed among the number, not very large, of first-class hotels in the Old and New World, we found the dining saloons, halls, passages, and the street in front illuminated by the electric light, which will probably come into use in similar establishments in London in a generation or two; and in the room in which we dined two electric burners were doing the work which ten gas chandeliers each with ten burners were wont to do, as was apparent from their neglected splendour.
The Pennsylvania Railway authorities, represented by Mr. G. B. Roberts, Mr. F. Thomson, and others, did all that lay in their power (and that was great) to enable us to turn our visit to the best account. But it was trying, after all our efforts, to leave so much unseen, and yet be obliged to confess that our powers were taxed by trying to see too much. And the same remarks apply to our journey throughout, which, as my readers will see if they care to read, was performed under high pressure almost from the beginning to the end. There was something more than an exhibition of mere courtesy towards brother directors in the attention paid by the representatives of the great American railway company to the party. They had reason to show attention to Mr. Crosfield, the Auditor, for he had rendered them substantial service, I was told—and I need not say it was not Mr. Crosfield who gave me the information—on one occasion, when they were engaged in a financial operation in London, by testifying to the satisfactory condition of their affairs and accounts. They got their money forthwith. Whatever may be the length and capital of other great railways in the States, our experience, I may say at once, was that in the excellence of the permanent way and carriages, punctuality and speed, the Pennsylvania was not excelled, if closely approached, by any. It is a great corporation. The four general divisions (of which each is subdivided, to the discomfiture somewhat of students of time-tables) of the line comprise 1845 miles, and it is stated that the Company is engaged in extensive absorptions and acquisitions, and that many little lines will be "bolted," and I hope digested, in due course. Their capital is too serious and complicated a matter for me to deal with, but I believe we wise men from the East were convinced that it is as sound as the ground on which the line runs, though I shall not forget the look of incredulity with which one of the gentlemen in the train with us heard the answer to his question respecting the capital of the London and North-Western. "A hundred millions! Dollars, of course, you mean?" "No, sir, a hundred millions sterling." After a while incredulity gave place to respectful admiration. "Five hundred million dollars. Well! that's a big pile, I'll allow." The appearance of Philadelphia caused a most agreeable surprise to the party, and Chestnut Street was voted to excel Broadway in the elegance and magnificence of the shops, although it cannot boast—nor, as far as I know, can any city in the world—of such a colossal store as Stewart's. We especially admired the Park and the Girard Bridge, one of the grandest and most beautiful in existence; but the object which challenged the admiration of the visitors more than anything they had seen so far was the vast pile in which the public departments are to find their gorgeous home, the effect of which will, some of us think, be spoiled rather than enhanced by the portentous clock-tower which is to be raised to a height that shall dwarf all known steeples, campaniles or towers in the two hemispheres by many gratifying feet.
To strangers, interesting and attractive, with many fine buildings and noble public institutions to show, Philadelphia is connected with the most important events in the early life of the Republic, and possesses for an American larger and more numerous souvenirs of the fathers of the Union and of their labours than any other place on the Continent. From some points in the park there is a good coup d'œil to be obtained of the monuments, churches, and undulating sea of roofs between the Schuylkill and the Delaware. The Girard Bridge, on the way, is one of the finest in the world. On every side there was much to admire, but the sun was blazing and fierce—unusually so—and at last we sought the shades of the Continental. There was none very soon after our arrival, for the hotel was, as I have said, illuminated by electricity. I could not recognise the place in which I had once stood in a time of wild excitement. "Sumter was to be relieved!" A throng of men discussing the news that was destined to lead to such stupendous results, so dense I could not make my way to the office where there was now only a crowd of some dozen people waiting to see "this Duke and the Britishers." The clerk, or one of those gentlemen in the office who control the destinies of travellers and visitors to hotels in the States, remembered the time well. He had served in a Pennsylvania regiment (not one of those which went away from McDowell the morning of Bull Run), and had been lieutenant, if not captain, and now, like many of his comrades in higher places, he was engaged in civil pursuits. Many interviews, and to bed.
April 29th.—The Duke was carried off at an early hour to begin the work of the day, into which was to be crammed many inspections and sights. These tell on the tourists somewhat; for as we are handed over, day after day, from one important body of ever kind and indefatigable guides and hosts, we are, of course, paying with our persons, whereas, for those on whom we descend there is but a few hours' hard labour, and then comes repose to them and "good-bye" to us. There is an eminently respectable air about Philadelphia; the shops in the main streets are attractive and beautiful; the citizens look prosperous; the vehicles are soberly luxurious, and the horses sleek. The Auditor, who belongs to the Society of which the founder of the State and city was the great ornament and chief, finds himself at home among many "Friends," and albeit they do not generally affect the attire of the sect, and the broad-brimmed hats, upright collars, single-breasted coats, and knee-breeches of sober hue, of the men, and the coal-scuttle bonnets, square, plain collars, and straight-cut cloth dresses of the women, have given place to garments of modern fashion, the good people called Quakers still form a numerous and influential community. We were told, and I believe truly, that there are more house-proprietors—that is, more people who own the houses they live in—in the population than in any city of the Union; and I was struck by the immense number of dwellings of moderate dimensions, all trim and nice, freshly painted, with flowers in the windows, and little gardens of which we caught glimpses in our early drives through the clean, neat, well-ordered streets. There was a lunch or breakfast at the house of General and President Roberts to fortify the party for a minute inspection of the terminus of the Pennsylvania Railroad at Fifteenth and Filbert Street, where all the arrangements for freighting and unloading the trains and for the great passenger traffic were explained and closely examined, and then they were conducted to the Elevated Road, and found a special train of Pullman palace-cars waiting to convey them to West Philadelphia; and a distinguished company of railway and other potentialities—Mr. G. A. Childs; Vice-Presidents Cassatt, Kneass, and Strickland; Mr. Dubarry, President of the Philadelphia and Erie Company; a number of directors—Messrs. Morris, Felton, Biddle, Shortridge, Cummins, Welsh, &c.—of the main line; Mr. Hinckley, President of the Philadelphia, Wilmington, and Baltimore Company; Mr. Griscom, of the International Navigation Company; Mr. Drexel, and many others, to do them honour. The drawing-rooms of the cars were ornamented with bouquets of the most lovely flowers; it is a never-failing and always welcome compliment, and Americans rival Parisians in the love, skill, and taste they display in the arrangement of these floral triumphs. The party visited Greenwich Point and Girard Point, and I saw with alarm some stupendous elevators in the distance, for the sun was exceedingly powerful, and we had already been called upon to witness the storage of corn non sine pulvere, at the terminus, but our kindly guardians were not imperative, and an outside view was all that was demanded of us. Passing under the Market Street bridge by the west bank of the river, and crossing to the east side by the line to the Delaware, we found a steamer waiting for us, in which we embarked, and were treated to a very pleasant excursion along the front of the city by water, to Port Richmond and to the freight station, where more elevators menaced us, but were appeased by external worship. The railway cognoscenti declared that all the details of the railroad management, and the sheds, warehouses, &c., were excellent, and this they did before the lunch (No. 2) which awaited the party at the offices of the Pennsylvania Railway in Fourth Street, whereof certain terrapin arrangements elicited expressions of much approval. After lunch, the party were led off, with re-invigorated powers, to visit Independence Hall, calling on Mayor Mr. King, at his office en route. Here there were more introductions, and Mr. Mayor, a bland and genial gentleman, made pretty little speeches to his visitors—"welcomed them as well on account of their distinction among the governing influences of their country, as for their useful mission in effecting an interchange of ideas in connection with improvements in transportation of products and diffusion of commerce." (Not a word of protective duties, Mr. Mayor!) From the Mayor's presence to Independence Hall was but a short way, and after we had inspected the building and its contents (vide Guide-Books), we were taken on to "The Ledger" Office, which is one of the sights of Philadelphia, as Mr. Childs is one of the institutions which his friends would desire to be immortal if that were possible, and the Duke and his friends were received with much courtesy by the learned, urbane, and energetic gentleman, who, having built up a fortune as well as one of the finest newspaper offices in the world, devotes the former to most worthy and liberal objects, and directs in the latter a journal of the highest reputation for literary excellence and political honesty.
Bibliopolery and bibliomania are rather rampagious in America. Were not Caxton and Wynkyn de Worde ancestors of English born in America as well as of English born in England? And who shall say Shakespeare is not the common property of the Anglo-Saxon race wherever they are found? As to that "quae regio in terris," &c. When I was in New York the other day, I was shown the outside of a house on the borders of the Central Park, filling an entire block from Seventieth to Seventy-first Street, and of the interior I heard such an account from "Uncle Sam" that I felt burglarious proclivities, which were restrained possibly by physical feebleness and the chastening reflection that I could not dispose of my plunder without the certainty of detection. It was the Lenox Library, containing priceless early Bibles, Shakespeares, and the like, in addition to treasures of art and belles lettres of the highest order, guarded by a one-headed Cerberus who would not let us in when we sought admission later in the year, for the same reason that London clubs are closed in the autumn. I dare say I could have obtained admission to the Lenox Hospital close at hand had I been duly qualified. Here in Philadelphia Mr. Childs has a library which, tout vu, is a credit to his taste and his industry, and which is rich in the autographic letters of English and American authors and MSS. In a small pamphletette from Robinson's 'Epitome of Literature' there is a very pleasant account of some of the treasures of the collection, and Mr. Childs is as liberal as the day in the display of them to all who desire to see them.
From "The Ledger" Office en route once more. There was still the new City Hall to inspect—a day's work in itself. A short drive brought us to the stupendous mass; Mr. Perkins, President of the Commission, and Mr. McArthur, the architect, received the Duke and his friends, and led them over some portion of the vast erection. It would be impossible, without a series of photographs, to give an idea of the "New Public Buildings," as they are called, which are described as "an immense architectural pile," occupying an area of four and a half acres under one roof, in a square of 428 feet, which with the projections for convenience and architectural effect are extended on the flanks to 470 feet from east to west, and 486½ feet from north to south. It is of the Renaissance, "modified and adapted," as the architect states, "to the varied and extensive requirements" of the great American municipality. I am sorry to say that amongst these is included the necessity for a clock-tower or campanile so out-Heroding Herod in its enormous altitude and ungainly bulk as to give in the architectural drawing an idea of comparative meanness to the bold elevation of the building below. It would seem as if the people of Philadelphia were bent upon emulating the Tower of Babel, or at all events of thrusting up towards heaven a shaft of stone which should be far nearer to it than anything hitherto erected by the hand of man; for this clock-tower is to be reared to such a height, that the centre of the clock-face shall be 361 feet above the level of the pavement. The diameter of the face of the clock is in proportion—20 feet—and even that will not be too much for time-keeping in such an elevated position. Those who revel in such details ought really to get the account of the contractor's work, of the 46,000,000 of bricks, and the 476,000 cubic feet of marble, and of the excavations and tonnage of iron used up already in this building, which is to contain the city offices, the law offices of the State, the military headquarters, and in fact everything State and municipal that requires a local habitation and a name for administrative and executive purposes. The reasons for such a creation were well set forth in the oration of Mr. Benjamin Brewster, on the occasion of the laying of the corner stone seven years ago. It causes one to think what "posterity" means when it is used as a phrase to express the people who live after us according to the orator's position, as we read that amongst those whose names posterity will not willingly let die are "Rittenhouse and Bush, Godfrey and Bartram." British posterity very probably would hear of the extinction of these respected memories without a pang—American posterity is called upon to keep them alive for ever. But tall buildings are appropriately inaugurated by tall talk. Penn and Franklin, it must be admitted, notwithstanding the somewhat narrow view of the character of the Great Quaker taken by very eminent historians in this country, were certainly men deserving well of their fellows, and to be remembered always on the American Continent, and on those portions of the earth where English is the language and English ideas are found; but why should the others "be passed down through time linked with Solon, Lycurgus, Pythagoras, Archimedes, Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, the crowned monarchs of human thought"?
There was still a visit to be paid to the Academy of Fine Arts, and I can answer for myself at least when I say it was, though it came last, the most agreeable incident in the long day's work. It is an institution of which the promoters may boast with every reason, and which must in time develop the taste and skill of native artists, of which its walls already exhibit creditable specimens.
One little incident of the visit was amusing. In one of the rooms, by way of a surprise to the Duke, and to give a local colour to the place in his eyes, there was in waiting, amidst a group of lady pupils and students of the sculpture models, a full-dressed Highlander. He was all alive, too, and made his bow very nicely, but he was exceedingly disconcerted when the Duke exclaimed, "He has got on his plaid over the wrong shoulder." The Highlander, amid the laughter which followed the remark, merely said in good American, "I'm not a Scotchman nor a Highlander at all." I believe there are many in the kilted regiments at home who might make a similar confession. He had been evidently dressed after a photograph, and the plaid reversed.
In development of public spirit and wealth, in the beautiful park, the public buildings, the scientific and literary societies, and commercial activity, the city possesses an indefeasible title to be considered the real capital of the State of Pennsylvania.
April 30th.—After three separate heads had popped in at my bedroom this morning and popped back again, seeing that it was "tubbing" time, at 8 A.M. I bolted the door and proceeded to finish my business. Desperate attempts to get in—knock! knock! knock! "You can't come in! I'm undressed!" "Only for a minute!" "I tell you I'm undressed." A card was pushed under the door. Presently I go to the spot, and find on the card in pencil, "S. Cameron, Harrisburg, Pa." It was my old friend, the venerable ex-Senator of Pennsylvania, Mr. Lincoln's first War Secretary, Simon Cameron! I hurried down-stairs to the office. Mr. Cameron was not staying in the Hotel. After a time it was ascertained that he was quartered at the Girard House, nearly opposite, but he was not in, and I had to go away without seeing him.
At 10.30 we bade good-bye to Philadelphia and many friends, and departed in a special train for Baltimore (98 miles) by the Philadelphia, Wilmington, and Baltimore Railway on our way to Washington. In Mr. Hinckley, the President of the line, who accompanied us and told us he was about to be boa-constrictored by the P. R. R., we found a delightful companion, and a most agreeable guide; a man of wit and travel, full of observation and anecdote; a sportsman, a naturalist, as well as a railway president; conversant with prairie and Indian life, abounding in anecdote concerning beasts, birds, devil-fish, grizzlies, buffaloes, Red men, as well as the newest devices and dodges of civilised life in the dreadful forms of oleomargarine, butterine, glucose, and the like. Just imagine the atrocity of filling bee-hives with glucose, and selling them as charged with bee-made honey! Fancy, again, the ingenuity of providing the industrious little hymenoptera with artificial hives, with cells and all complete, made out of gutta-percha or papier-mâché, or the like, so that the bee is free to expend all his energy in storing up honey at once, and need not bestow a thought upon making wax, or gathering the materials for it!
The line of railway to Baltimore passes through a populous, unattractive country, which seemed exceedingly prosperous. On our way we passed the oldest city in the State, which, though it bears the name of Chester, was founded by the Swedes about the time of our Civil War, shortly before the raising of the standard by Charles I. It is now remarkable for the ship-building yards of a gentleman of Irish origin, named Roach, and the Swedes have all vanished. A little farther on is the Brandywine River, on which, in 1777, was fought the battle which the Americans have somehow persuaded themselves was a victory. The stones set up to mark "Mason and Dixon's Line" are near Newark, close to Maryland, and the special was stopped to enable us to visit them. Mr. Hinckley told us some very interesting facts connected with the original survey, the dispute between Lord Baltimore and the colony of Pennsylvania concerning their boundaries, the verification of the original survey by the Special Commissioners, and knocked several ignorant delusions on the head.
There was but one expression of feeling at our departure—one of regret; into our short stay in Baltimore, which we reached in a couple of hours, there was compressed so much cordiality and hospitable intent that we were beggared even in thanks. There was a drive with Mayor Latrobe through the city and Druid Park, following an excursion down the harbour and Fort M'Henry in a steamer, visits to elevators and wharfs and landing-piers, and lunches without speechmaking, all to be got through ere the special resumed the run to Washington, of which the Capitol loomed in sight just as the last rays of the sun shot up from behind the ridge which I remember white with the tents of the army of the Union. The long drive to Rigg's House—a magnificent creation of the last few years—was a succession of surprises; new streets, splendid mansions, smooth pavements, electric lights, private carriages, an animated crowd of well-dressed, pleasant-looking people in Pennsylvania Avenue, reminiscences of Paris and New Vienna all around us, instead of mud and closed shutters, gloom, and "John Brown's body lies mouldering in the grave" sounding out of patriotic cellars, horses tethered to every tree, orderlies galloping, patrols marching, and the noise of never-ending convoys of warlike stores. It was indeed a happy change. Si sic omnia, si sic semper!
Heroes New and Old—The Soldiers' Home—The White House—President Garfield—His Visitors—The Capitol—Mount Vernon—Mr. Blaine—"On to Richmond!"—Fitzhugh Lee—The Capitol, Return—The Corcoran Gallery—Sight-seeing.
May 1st.—Such a May-day as our poets sang of ere there was a change of style, and of climate too! A local paper remarks that "the remarkable facility with which an Englishman takes to water under certain conditions was exhibited by the word 'bath' appended on the register of the hotel to the name of every gentleman of the party;" but it was not quite so easy to obtain the thing as to write the word. However, everything comes to him who knows how to wait, and we were all provided at last. By some mischance it was ordered that we should have a private room (No. 32), instead of breakfasting in the common room, which was large and airy, and our "aristocratic exclusiveness," which was quite involuntary, was punished by immurement in an inferno which daylight could not reach, and which was perforce illuminated by gas. It was "ad suffocandum," as Dr. Syntax would say, hot and stuffy. There was a great clangour of church bells after breakfast. The air was resonant with invitations, and we had choice of many places and forms of worship. The Church of the Epiphany in our street was near at hand, and those who attended there found a large congregation, an excellent preacher, and a well-ordered service. Mr. Victor Drummond gave the Duke and myself lunch at his lodgings, where we met Lord G. Montagu and Mr. De Bunsen, of the Legation, and as we walked to the house I had ample opportunities, though I still know the names of my friends, of lamenting the effects of the "longa oblivio" of which Juvenal writes, for the changes which have been made in the city have obliterated most of the landmarks, and time has done the rest. I could not identify "Jost's," where I lived for so many weeks between the rout of Bull Run and the winter of McClellan's preparations in 1861, nor quite satisfy myself as to the precise house "in Seventeenth Street, at the corner of I," where so many anxious days and nights were passed during "the Mason and Slidell" pourparlers, and where "the Bold Buccaneers" were wont to meet. There were new squares and streets in the way, and, moreover, there were statues to heroes whose lights were then hidden under a bushel. In addition to the colossal statue of Washington, by Clark Mills, at the crossing of the Pennsylvania and New Hampshire Avenues, there are the equestrian statue (heroic) of General Scott, by H. Brown, at the crossing of Massachusetts and Rhode Island Avenues; Balls' enormous and "characteristic" statue of Lincoln (paid for by negro subscription) in Lincoln Park; an equestrian statue of Nathaniel Greene, the revolutionary general; one of General Rawlins (to me an unknown quantity—ignoramus that I am!). To these (most of them "buccæ bene notæ oppido") must be added a statue of Admiral Farragut, very like, but complicated by a ridiculous telescope; a fine statue on horseback of General Thomas, one of the best of the Federal generals (pace General Grant and General Badeau); another of General McPherson, who fell at Atalanta, and the Naval Monument, near the Capitol, to the sailors who were killed in the Civil War. These were all Federal heroes, and Washington is a Federal capital. I could not but think how near it was, for the time at least, being a Confederate capital after that memorable July day in 1861, when in despair Mr. Lincoln crossed the Potomac to visit the only fortified port which lay between Washington and the victorious but inept Southerners at Manassas, and found the defenders in flagrant disobedience to orders. But that time is as dead and gone as the period of the Wars of the Roses, albeit the evil that men do lives after them, and the Southern fire blazes no longer—it burns all the same.
Later in the day the Attorney-General, Mr. MacVeagh, drove the Duke and myself out to the Soldiers' Home, which gave me another opportunity for meditations, with which I shall not weary my readers. The drive revealed new improvements and grand efforts on the part of "the city of magnificent distances" to come to terms with its outlying boundaries. How pure the air, how bright the sky, how fair the scene! The wide expanse of roofs, the still waves of the ordered house-tops, above which rose the rocky steeples, the colossal mass of the Capitol on the Virginian shore, the rolling wooded heights of Arlington, the Potomac shining like a sinuous belt of burnished gold in the setting sun! It seemed so peaceful and so secure. And yet we are climbing to "the Soldiers' Home," the outcome of one of the most sanguinary wars of modern times, of which in one sense this District of Columbia was the cause and end. It consists of a number of detached buildings of stone or marble, on a high plateau broken into wooded dells and undulating gently towards the south and west, where the ground dips so as to give a fine view of the city some three miles away. The Home stands in a large enclosed park (500 acres), and there is plenty of land beside for the soldiers to cultivate for the benefit of the institution. In these grounds there is a pleasant detached house, which is set apart for the use of the President pro tem., when the heat renders Washington more than usually abominable in summer time, and Mr. MacVeagh said he thought it very possible the President would move out as soon as he could. Mr. Lincoln was very fond of his villeggiatura here. As it was Sunday there was no work going on, and, moreover, it was not easy, we found, for even an Attorney-General of the Republic and a Minister of State to get in through the closed gates, so the Duke got out of the phaeton which Mr. MacVeagh's fast trotters had whirled up the steep at a creditable rate, and sought to repeat the miracle of Samson at Gaza, but we managed to dispense with it. Probably it was because of the day of rest so many old men were crawling about the avenues smoking pipes, and looking very unhappy, I thought. It struck me that there were many small and weak-looking veterans among them—dwindled by the fatigues of war and lapse of years—not such "stalwarts" as I remembered to have seen encamped at Arlington yonder. There were men of all nations amongst them—many Irish and Germans—and foreigners from all the corners of the earth; but Northern American officers say, one and all, that the Americans pur sang bore the brunt of the fighting. Their uniform is neither neat nor becoming; though neither the "Invalos" nor the Chelsea Pensioners have much to boast of in their apparel, they have the advantage of the U.S. veteran. The Duke was received at the central building by the Commandant, to whom he was presented by the Attorney-General, and we were shown over the library, sleeping-wards, dining-rooms, &c., which have a strong family likeness all over the world. A glance at the bookshelves enabled me to come to the gratifying conclusion, and the English litterateur ought to take comfort from the fact, that English literature solaces the leisure of the American veteran very largely. The "genius loci" seems to be a rather deplumed and demoralised-looking eagle, in a cage on the ground outside the central building. I was reminded, as I surveyed his "cadaverous aspect and battered beak," of Audubon's ineffectual protest against the adoption of the bird as the symbol of the Republic. I believe the "aquila chrysaëtos," the Golden Eagle, is not known in America. The eagle which our cousins have taken up with (though it has not two heads, is not black, and does not wear a crown) is but a poor bald-headed falcon, of uncleanly habits and sordid appetites, not very much given to use claws or beak against a vigorous enemy—so, at least, wrote the naturalist—therefore very inappropriate as the type of a brave, generous, and bellicose people. As we turned citywards, the beauty of the landscape was glorified by one of the sunsets which rival the most brilliant phenomena of the kind in India after the monsoons, and Washington, bathed in purple, looked every inch an empire city. The Duke and some others of the party dined with Sir Edward Thornton in the evening, where we spent a very pleasant time, and heard many interesting things about Washington and its society.
May 2nd.—This was indeed a busy day, in which were to be concentrated, we found, many incidents not included in the "programme." Early in the morning, that is, soon after breakfast, amidst much bustle and business carried on in the presence of many visitors—for we were obliged to make the most of our short stay in Washington—the Duke received a message from the Secretary of State, that the President of the United States would receive the party at the White House, and that Mr. Blaine—having courteously sent his son to act as our guide—would be in waiting to introduce them. And so about 10 o'clock we strolled out of the hotel and walked up the avenue which leads by the Treasury Buildings to the residence of the chief magistrate of the Great Republic. It is somewhat singular that books of travel do not deal a little more with the really fine city which Washington of late years has become—a capital worthy of so vast an empire. On our way we had occasion to admire the grand frontage of the National Buildings, which rise up close to the Presidential mansion, and which cause the rather homely proportions of the latter to come out in greater relief. There is an absence of state and of any pretence of it in the approaches to the White House; no sentries, not even a policeman on duty, and the only sign that it is not a private citizen's residence about it are the open door and the appearance of many persons passing unconcernedly in and out. A domestic in black received the party at the entrance hall, and ushered them into a waiting-room furnished in quiet and unobtrusive colours, without any pretension to much decoration; and soon afterwards Mr. Blaine made his appearance and led us into what is called the Blue Room, where we were engaged for some moments in conversation with him. We were reminded that the Executive Mansion was burned down by the British in 1814; but it was quickly rebuilt, and was occupied four years afterwards. It is not to be expected that with the modest appointments accorded to the Presidential office there should be any great display of pictures or of objects of art, but there were some exceedingly interesting Louis Quinze and Quatorze clocks and ameublements in the apartments, and Mr. Blaine gave us several interesting particulars respecting their acquisition, of which I have no memoranda. In fact, we were all too much occupied with the expectation of the entrance of the President to pay much attention to details. Presently our urbane guide left the room, and returned in a moment followed by Mr. Garfield.[5] "In appearance the President is striking, of erect, soldierly bearing, above the middle height—in fact, very nearly six feet high—with broad shoulders, and powerful, muscular, well-set frame. His head is large, with a fine frontal development; eyes bright and penetrating, of a mild and kindly expression; the mouth firm, and the jaw, as well as contour can be traced beneath the full rich brown beard shaded with grey, indicative of resolution and strength." In his manner the President was exceedingly affable—courteous and simple—without any of that ceremonious stiffness which is sometimes to be found amongst Americans in official life, and his greeting to the strangers was most kindly, as if he were welcoming friends whom he had known. He engaged the Duke in conversation for a short time, all of the party having been presented in turn, and then he addressed a few remarks to each of them, principally about travelling in the States and the difference that might be observed in the railway conveyances in this country and our own. It is a custom for an American, when you are introduced to him, to repeat your name, which strikes English people, but which, on reflection, I think is eminently utilitarian. For example Mr. Bickersteth is introduced. The President says: "Mr. Bickersteth, sir, I am happy to know you!" We all know what a melancholy jumble is frequently made of names in introductions; but the person whose name may be mispronounced has, on the American principle, an immediate opportunity of correcting any mistake, and of saying: "My name is not Bickerstaff, it is Bickersteth"; and so on, as the case may be. When I was presented to the President he said: "I think we have met before, long ago. You brought us, Mr. Russell, the worst news that ever could be heard by a people; but I do not suppose that you were much more pleased with it than we were," or words to that effect. I said: "I assure you, Mr. President, that no one was ever more unwilling than I was to take such a ride and to bring back such news. I would much rather have had a victory and a rest at the end of the day." "Well," he said, smiling, "we learnt our lesson, and I am sure that we were very much the better for all you told us, though we did not quite relish it at the time." As there were, at the Presidential hours of reception, many people waiting for their turn, the interview was a short one. These calls on the President must be a great, if a necessary tax upon his time. In the grand parlour, called the East Room, which is open from an early hour in the morning until three o'clock, there is generally a gathering of some sort or other, and the Blue, Red, and Green Rooms are also appropriated to the purposes of audience, the private rooms of the President and his family being of restricted number and size on the second floor. The day that we called there was a delegation of one-armed and one-legged veterans with a petition demanding that in Federal appointments preference should be given to discharged soldiers and sailors; and the President seems to have craftily met the requisition by declaring that he was heartily in sympathy with them; that he would, so far as he was concerned, see that preference should always be given to such disabled veterans, there being equal competency among the candidates, which, as the petitioners certainly had lost a leg or an arm each, might, cæteris paribus, be held as hard to be established. Then there were all kinds of senators, big and little (if there be such a thing as a little senator), newspaper editors, city delegates urging the promotion of particular men to different appointments, and mere idlers, who, having nothing else to do, turned in and wanted to have a talk with the President.
From the White House we were driven to the Capitol, which has undergone great improvement since the time of the War. A little more, however, remains to be done in the substitution of the real for the sham; but it would be difficult perhaps to effect that completely. The general effect of the building, which is exceedingly fine—though I doubt if it can be fairly said to be "the most magnificent public edifice in the world"—reminds one strongly of St. Peter's. It towers above all the city, and can be seen from an immense distance. The western front is perhaps the weakest portion of the building. In the decorations of the interior there is much to be desired; and I hope it is not offensive to say that the colossal statue of Washington on the Esplanade in front of the central portico strikes me as being pretentious rather than grand. There is a fine bronze door, cast at Munich, commemorating the discovery of America by Columbus; but the panels in the Rotunda, which have been painted by American artists, are surely not in the best style of American art. It is not remarkable, considering what the history of art is in England, that the best works about the Capitol should have been executed by foreigners, or at least by men with foreign names; but Crawford's statue of Liberty on the ball over the Capitol is worthy of praise, and is undoubtedly American. The Hall of Representatives is a fine apartment with very little ornamentation. There is a portrait of Washington, as a matter of course, and another of Lafayette, and there are two good pictures by Bierstadt in panels on the wall. At the time of our visit there was what they call "nothing" going on in the Senate Chamber. The senators, each at his little desk, were mostly engaged in writing notes or reading newspapers. In the chair sat Mr. Arthur, the Vice-President, a massive man in the prime of life, with a large round head and face, whose look gave one the impression that he might be a person of great common sense without any pronounced ability or character, his expression, perhaps, being that of benevolent sagacious repose. But there seemed to us a good deal going on, because a gentleman was engaged in denouncing in a highly excited manner some other gentleman for his conduct in reference to a proposition before the House, that had been occupying them for many days. "He has been perorating," said one of our friends, "for the last hour, and will go on for another hour, good. That is Dawes." I do not wish to be in the least disrespectful to Mr. Dawes, and I doubt not that if I had had the advantage of hearing him from the beginning, I should have been carried away by his argument, but under the circumstances his vehemence seemed uncalled for. At 1 o'clock we drove down to the Navy Yard and embarked on board the United States steamer "Despatch," a large party having been invited by Secretary Blaine to accompany the Duke for an excursion to Mount Vernon—the British Minister, Sir Edward Thornton, Lady Thornton, and his daughters; Mr. Victor Drummond, Mr. De Bunsen, and the members of the Legation; the representatives of France, Turkey, and Spain; Sherman, the General at the head of the army (looking as if he were quite ready to make another march into Georgia), his wife and daughter. General Sheridan, who had been summoned on business to Washington, and Colonel M. Sheridan were also of the party; and all the principal members, official and non-official, of Washington society, among whom must not be forgotten Mr. Corcoran, Mrs. Wadsworth, and Miss Eustis; the Attorney-General, Mr. MacVeagh, and many others. Nor must I omit my old friend and captor Admiral Porter, who took me in gentle fashion and carried me on board the "Powhattan," in 1861, as I was running the blockade of Pensecola from Mobile. The excellent band of the United States Marines received the Duke with the air of "Hail to the Chief"; and off Alexandria a salute of nineteen guns from the shore battery was repeated from the "Portsmouth" corvette, and the crew of the "Saratoga," lying close at hand, saluted as the "Despatch" steamed by. Awnings were spread from one end of the deck to the other, and, as the party found out, there was an excellent lunch prepared in the saloons below. The day was warm, the weather delightful, and the company included all that was distinguished and sociable in the society of Washington—foreign ministers, and attachés, and most of the gentlemen in office, many senators and a number of agreeable ladies. It had been bruited that there was considerable irritation in Washington society because the incoming powers, represented by their wives, had introduced new rules of etiquette with respect to calls and such like important duties of life; but certainly less pretentious leaders of fashion never were than those who were good enough to join the little expedition to Mount Vernon.
There is among the American officers of both services a camaraderie which is not always exhibited in our own. There may be official jealousies between the Secretary of State of the Navy and the Secretary of State of the Army, and the respective heads of these departments, though I am not aware that there are any; but I was struck by the terms of good-fellowship on which a man occupying the high position of General Sherman appeared to be with the young officers of the United States steamer on board which we were carried to the scene of our entertainment, and the latter had all the frankness and cordiality which the sea service somehow seems to inspire. They exhibited the action of the machine gun for the visitors, and I learned that the result of the experiments made by the Navy on the merits of various systems did not lead them to the conclusion at which our own people had arrived, and that the Nordenfeldt was not thought so well of by them as it is by us. Senator Burnside talked of his experiences at Versailles in the Franco-German war, where I encountered him engaged upon a mysterious philanthropic mission having relation, I believe, to the liberation of friends from Paris, and to the larger object of bringing about terms of peace between the belligerents—a kindly, large-minded man, to whom fortune was not favourable when he was summoned to command the armies of the Republic at a period when success would have made him unquestionably the foremost citizen and soldier of the United States. The same anomaly exists in the administration of the army as is found in England. The present Secretary of State for War, Mr. Lincoln, son of the President, is a very young man, and has no military experience. Nevertheless he has very considerable power, and while we were in the United States he thought nothing of summoning General McDowell from San Francisco or General Sheridan from Chicago to consult with them, which was complimentary, if rather troublesome; but he is said to be possessed of great business capacity and of sound common sense, and to take the advice of his military counsellors with facility.
It is about an hour by a quick steamer from the Navy Yard to Mount Vernon, and a little after 2 o'clock the steam launches, which were in waiting, were busily engaged in transferring the guests from the man-of-war to the landing-place below the wooded heights on which stands the American Mecca, Mount Vernon. The ascent to the house is rather sharp, and I presume it has been the object of the committee who have charge of the place to meddle with its natural features as little as possible. Mount Vernon House, familiar to so many thousands of Americans, remains as it was, so far as the lapse of time will permit it to do so, at the time of Washington's death. The wings to the centre of the house, which is built of wood, were contributed by him; and, but for the relics inside—the key of the Bastille presented by Lafayette to the President, and a few articles belonging to him—there would be little to see, unless the visitor is enabled to throw into the contemplation of the objects around him something of the admiration and hero-worship with which the name of "the Father of his Country—first in peace, first in war, and first in the affections of his people"—inspires the American.
The excellent band of the Marines was playing under the trees on the plateau, and the strains of "God Save the Queen" greeted the English visitors as they gained the portico. If the shadow of the departed hero could but have emerged from the tomb, close at hand, in which his remains repose, it would have been astonished perhaps at the change in costume, and in appearance, of the ladies and gentlemen, from that which had been familiar to Washington on earth. For the great citizen was by no means indifferent to the outward forms. Black silk stockings, knee-breeches, ruffles, and sword would in his mind have been the necessary attire and adjuncts of the heads of the army and navy, and of the ministers and others who were now walking about in pot-hats, morning jackets, and frock coats. As to the ladies, it is not too much to say that Mrs. Martha Washington would have probably disapproved of their pretty Parisian costumes so much that she would have sent out some of her black menials, whom we shall not call slaves, to request their removal from the premises. The ladies of America, however, have a right to claim position in Mount Vernon, for it was their "association" which raised the money with which the demesne and the house were purchased, in order to be handed over by them to the nation. Our own interest in the spot is derived from the English origin of the great man who lived there; and we are not altogether quite cut off from it even in name, because that is derived from the stout old Admiral Vernon, in remembrance of whom Laurence Washington, who fought under him against the Spaniards, named the place.
It was five o'clock ere we embarked on board the "Despatch" for the Navy Yard, after three hours of very pleasant pilgrimage and prattle at "the Mount," and we ran up the river to our destination in less than an hour, passing on our way the "Portsmouth" and "Saratoga," which saluted the steamer.
The Duke and some of the party dined with Mr. Blaine, the Secretary of State, where we met General Garfield. It is rare to meet the President at dinner in Washington, as it is not considered etiquette for him to dine out. To do honour to the occasion, the Duke wore his Garter star, and Sir Edward Thornton the riband of the Bath. The only other person who had any decoration was General Sherman, who wore a small badge at his button-hole. I believe that Congress authorised the wearing of distinctions conferred for military and naval services on the fortunate leaders of the Federal armies and fleets after the war.
The President's manner was singularly easy, natural, and frank. With his Secretary of State he appeared to be on terms of great friendship; and by the latter he is evidently regarded with admiration and affection. He was desirous of learning the impressions produced by his short visit on the mind of the Duke, rather than of leading the conversation; but farther on he became much interested in a discussion respecting recent English novelists. Mr. Black would have been gratified could he have heard the praise bestowed by General Garfield upon his descriptions of natural scenery, of the sea-coast, and of the islands of the West of Scotland, which, said he, "have filled me with a desire that I hope some day to be able to gratify—to visit the scenes he has described." And, having mentioned several writers, especially George Eliot, in reply to a remark that it was wonderful he could have found time to have read so many works of fiction, he said laughingly, "Well, I don't suppose I shall have much time now, or for some years to come; but I am glad to say I have not always been so busy;" and then he quoted a little bit of Horace, to which I think he is rather addicted, inasmuch as he certainly again popped in a quotation. Mrs. Garfield appeared to be an admirable President's wife—calm and simple, with unaffected manners and quiet dignity; and Mrs. Blaine was one of the most charming and lively of hostesses, so that our evening passed very agreeably. When the President and Mrs. Garfield retired, a few of the guests lingered on, listening to the interesting conversation of some gentlemen who remained for an hour longer and gave us many new views of American politics and life.
May 3rd.—We are going to Richmond to-day. In the first or original "programme" (a word which is spelt by Americans without the final "me," and, as it strikes me, correctly, if "telegram" be proper) the excursion on which the party started at 9 A.M. this morning was not included. However they were impressed with some of the reasons which were suggested for devoting one day to a Southern City which has especial claims to the consideration of Englishmen in the antecedents of the State of which it is the capital. At the outset of the war, the name became the watchword of the North, "On to Richmond!" was the cry. How it rung in one's ears in Washington that fervent summer of 1861! How it met the eye in broad type at the head of every leading article! It was as the "à Berlin!" of the Paris mob in 1870. For a time it seemed as though the answer might be given by the sound of the enemy's guns at Baltimore, Philadelphia or New York. From Washington to Richmond is only 116 miles. The road was barred for four years by the genius of Lee, the skill of his generals, and the fiery valour of the South. It would perhaps be ungenerous and unjust to say that the ineptitude of the North entered for something into the estimate of the causes which impeded the march of the Federal armies till Grant "whittled away" the life of his opponents. My friends had none of these recollection to distract their minds from the contemplation of the present.
And this is Washington? How strange it all seems to one like myself, whose latest memories of the city which has expanded into such placid beauty teem with vision of vast camps—the march of serried battalions—the roll of artillery—the circumstance and pride, without the pomp, of war—the passion and fury of civil strife—the agony of a nation—to see it now staid and stately and calm as some lake which rests in the embrace of the mountain shores after the subsidence of the storm! Down Pennsylvania Avenue I have seen in full flow a river of sparkling bayonet waves, and have heard the refrain of "John Brown's body lies mouldering in the grave" pealing from myriads of lips, where now the bourgeois 'bus rolls over the asphalte, and the greatest excitement is a pair of fast trotters behind the vehicle of some well-to-do legislator on his way to or from the Capitol. There was a special train at "the Depôt" at 10 o'clock A.M.—palace cars—our ever-obliging, smiling, active attendants—the usual official courtesies—giant bouquets on the tables, and all the luxury of the road which Presidents and directors' friends enjoy in the Republic of Railroads. The old Long Bridge over which I rode the night of Bull Bun, bringing the news of the defeat to Lord Lyons at the British Legation, has been removed, and the Baltimore and Potomac Railway is carried across the Potomac on a more recent structure rejoicing in the old name. How could I expect my companions to be much interested in "Alexandria," once so conspicuous in the history of the Civil War, when I found an American gentleman beside me quite ignorant of the fate of "Ellsworth," the protomartyr of the Union?