Milwaukee is famous for its beer. More than half a million barrels were made and sold the year before last, and still the trade is growing. There appear to be Germans enough to have stomach for it all in the city and the district round about. A Teutonic soil with a top dressing of Scotch may be said to constitute the stratum of the organic formation of the people of Milwaukee.
After a visit to the Soldiers' Home, an asylum for veterans of the militia and volunteers of Ohio and neighbouring States—a very interesting establishment two miles from the city—and a look at Mr. Mitchell's well-ordered, luxurious residence on the outskirts, Panklinton House received us, and at 10 p.m. we continued our course westwards towards St. Paul, travelling all night, and sleeping most comfortably in the Pullman car.
The Mississippi—St. Paul—Minneapolis—Le Mars—Sioux City—Life on the Rail—Muddy Missouri—Kansas City—Old and New Friends.
May 24th.—At 6 A.M. we were aroused from our slumbers by the rattling of the train over the Mississippi bridge near La Crosse, 195 miles from Milwaukee, which is on the east bank of the river.
All next day through a country of great fertility, with many orchards, green pasturage, and fields of wheat and maize, and we were fain to believe that night had hid at least an equal richness from our view.
On the highway of the Central Illinois Railway there is an enormous extent of the richest soil. One may pass miles and miles, day after day, I am told, over prairie land covered with rich grass and vegetation. An emigrant with a strong arm, a strong head, and a little money, pushing far afield out of the beaten track, can still, it is said, secure in Minnesota, Iowa, Illinois, and Wisconsin, land which in a few years will yield a rich return for his investment and his labour. But it is not, from all I could hear, quite a paradise to live in, nor will the emigrant, at least at the outset, complain of the roses lying too thickly under him. There are broken men here as well as in other parts of the world, but they are "lazy, ne'er-do-weels; they drink and smoke and pass their lives in front of the bar-rooms, liquor saloons, and gambling shops." Some of them deny that the description applies to them; they attribute their ill-fortune to natural causes—to the terrible winters which seem to destroy all life, at times covering the country with snow, which melting, swells the rivers, which sweep over the fields, depositing a thick mud on the surface or carrying away the crops. As to the existence of a winter of great intensity and duration there can be no dispute; but neither man nor cattle succumb to its effects. On all sides, however, we were assured that the cold is not comparable to that which we experience in England, unless there is a strong wind which causes evaporation. How the emigrant can support these long and dreary winters in his log shanty, where fuel is not too plentiful, I am at a loss to understand, unless it be indeed true that the cold, no matter what the thermometer shows, is not so cold as it is in Europe. But, without jesting, there is concurrent testimony from settlers with whom we spoke, that they can go about without inconvenience when the thermometer marks twenty or thirty degrees of frost; and the same fact is reported in Manitoba of Western Canada. It is, they say, the dryness of the air which mitigates the severity of the cold.
The names of places in Wisconsin are often of French or Indian origin, smacking of the old days of exploration and the chase—Prairie du Chien, Portage, Tomah, &c. We did not see much of the country between Milwaukee and La Crosse, but now we roused ourselves to make amends for our forced neglect by diligent observation from the windows.
The iron horse has borne the travellers nearly 200 miles without a check, over canals, rivers, and rich fat lands, and we are now entering on a picturesque region. For many a long mile we ran by the side of the Father of Waters, which hereabouts has traits reminding one of the Rhine, doubled or trebled in breadth, it is true; its broad and turbid waters, now several feet above its ordinary level, are confined by high wooded banks and sharp bluffs. Winona, rich in timber-rafts and many masts—a little inland river port, with a show of steeples and public buildings, won our regards for a moment, and farther on the Mississippi opened out into a grand sheet called, I think, Lake Pepin. At the summit of the bluffs the great prairie lands begin, and after a run beneath these finely contoured natural battlements of two and a half hours along the bank of the stream, the line of cliff seemed to recede and open up, and we caught a glimpse of the green headlands, flattening out into rolling treeless plains—"There is the Prairie"! The River Division of the Chicago, Milwaukee, and St. Paul Railway over which we travelled has not always to congratulate itself on its vicinity to the river, nor to think its lot has been cast in pleasant places. The great inundation in which the Mississippi and Missouri did so much mischief left plentiful and numerous traces of its power along our route. At 9 A.M. we crossed the river by a fine bridge to the left bank. In half an hour more the steeples, chimneys, and elevators of St. Paul, 409 miles from Chicago, were in sight, and at 10 A.M. the special stopped at the platform, where General Sibley, whilom governor and almost the father of the country hereabouts, the mayor elect, and a deputation, were waiting to receive the Duke, to whom they were introduced by Mr. Merrill, the manager of the railroad.
We were always "taken charge of" by somebody or other—at least we were told so in the newspapers—but our friends do their spiriting so gently that we are not aware of the surveillance. At St. Paul the party was "in charge" of the Chamber of Commerce.
General Sibley, Mr. Rice, Mr. Kelly, Mr. Clarke, Mr. Noyes, and Messrs. Drake were so anxious to show us over the town that we were at once embarked in carriages and driven through the very wonderful and interesting streets of this creation, away to Dayton's Bluff, over the river, from which there is a very fine view up and down of the city and the valley. Nothing can give one a more vivid impression of the vast progress in the West, that has been made in countries which were once in the hands of the Red Indian, than to go as we did in company with an original settler like General Sibley and hear his stories; to see the lines of commodious and elegant villas standing in well-planted grounds, with greenhouses, conservatories, and gardens in long procession, and in the usual rectangular formation of American suburbs, and to hear that but a few short years ago sanguinary encounters were taking place between red men and white, close at hand. He told us of the terrible incursion of Indians under Little Crow in 1862, by which this State and Dacotah were plunged in mourning, and of the brilliant little campaign in which he destroyed the invaders and broke their power for ever, and it was difficult to imagine that such deeds as he described had been perpetrated not many marches distant by such enemies only nineteen years ago. St. Paul is not to be described in a few lines, and as we listened to General Sibley's account of its rise, and looked at its streets, and shops, and public buildings, it was only the material evidence before our eyes which enabled us to grasp the fact of such a wondrous growth; and the population is said to be nearly 60,000, and to be fast increasing. The capital of Minnesota spreads itself out on both sides of the Mississippi, which is here 2200 miles from its mouths below New Orleans. The principal buildings are on the left bank. The people, without being troublesome or pressing, were interested on the new arrivals, and more than one British flag was visible in the street. The streets were exceedingly dusty, which is not an uncommon circumstance in American towns, and is not to be wondered at either, and I think we were all very glad to reach the Metropolitan Hotel for a little rest and a bath before lunch at 11 o'clock. There was yet much to be done, as we had to visit Minneapolis, 10 miles distant, driving by Summit and University Avenues.
Minneapolis would well deserve a separate chapter to itself if I could give it. It is a "twin city," for St. Anthony is linked to it, and it boasts a university, an opera-house, an academy of music, fine public buildings, an Athenæum, a public library, many churches, and the broad streets are lined with shade-giving trees and fine shops and houses; and yet it was as late as 1837 that the United States obtained by treaty from the Sioux the right of settling in the country at all; and the city of St. Paul is partly built on the piece of land which was obtained by a Canadian named Pierre Parent in the same year, and which he sold for 16l.! And now the hum of life, the thunder of machinery, the smoke of factories, fill the valley. The Mississippi groans under the masses of timber and innumerable keels. How much to admire! what energy! what enterprise! But how nature suffered from it all! The Falls of St. Anthony turned into the overflow of a canal lock! The great river converted into a sewer laden with manure and sawdust! The lovely landscape defaced by hideous mills, elevators, factories! How the poets should rage, and the plutocrats rejoice!
An hour had been spent in the drive round the city, an hour and a half more in the excursion by road to the rival greatness of Minneapolis, another hour was devoted to taking a leisurely view of the Falls of St. Anthony (which were artificial and disappointing), and an inspection of Mr. Washburn's great mills worked by the captive river.
On our way back the party made a halt to take a glance at Minnehaha, the "laughing water" (Oh, Mr. Longfellow! How could you?)—a pretty little cascade enough as we saw it—in a deep wooded dell, about half the height of the Fall at Powerscourt; beset, too, with photographers and harpies. Still, we did our duty. The Auditor and others descended to the bed of the rivulet, crossed it, and walked round behind the Falls in due course, and struggled up to the top triumphant. Then we went back by a different route to Minneapolis, feeling we had well filled up a very hot, dusty, and profitable day of honest labour, with many a pleasant incident to boot.
In addition to the trade, commerce, and agricultural riches of Minnesota there is yet very good sporting to be found, and those among us who were given that way were much exercised by the accounts we heard of good shooting not far distant, and of unrivalled fishing—of woods filled with deer, of prairies swarming with "chickens," of rivers and lakes boiling with trout! However, one of the gentlemen with us goes away every year to Canada for his fishing, so it must be better there than in Minnesota. The cold in winter is admitted to be intense, but the people are healthy, and there are several resorts for invalids in much favour in the State. There is a considerable State debt, respecting which we heard and read discussions in which the word "repudiation" was mentioned but generally repudiated. After all it is only about 1,600,000l. for city, town, county, school, district, and State. These, however, are very risky subjects for those who are not well acquainted with every detail to dwell upon, and as far as I could learn the development of the State up to the present time may be taken as a measure of its future progress. Governor Sibley told me he recollected the time when the population was only 6000—he puts it down at 1,000,000 to-day.
May 25th.—We were, I find it recorded in my diary, up and "packed" at 7 o'clock and had an early, breakfast. "The party started from St. Paul at 8 A.M., and made a desperate attempt to leave Mr. Close, who was our very arch guide, and one of its members behind, but it was ignominiously defeated and the train brought to a standstill at five miles out from the city, where it had to wait till our special engine and car completed the journey and filled up the establishment." It was in this wise. I wanted to buy a candlestick, for in most American hotels there is only gaslight or petroleum lamps in the bedrooms, and Mr. Close, who had come to St. Paul to conduct us over his farm, set out with me to find an ironmonger's shop. "Don't lose your way," said the good-natured landlord as we left the hotel. No danger of that! Was I not in the hands of a local expert? We turned into a shop, where the gentleman behind the counter let us have the run of the establishment till I found what I wanted, 10 cents = 5d., so Protection does not render tin candlesticks very expensive, any way. And then we sauntered to the station. A number of people were coming up from it as though they had been looking at something. We walked down to the platform and inquired for the special. The porter, pointing with his finger to a bridge far away across the river down below, said slowly, "I guess she'll be about there. She went off five minutes ago." Mr. Close tackled the occasion at once—the station master was hunted down, the telegraph set to work, an engine and a carriage were prepared, and amid much objurgation from our friends, connected with imaginary dangers from collision, &c., we were delivered over to the conductors, who had never missed us, or thought we were in the train.
The district from St. Paul towards Council Bluffs, traversed by the train in which we were journeying to-day, presents every temptation to the agriculturist, but on looking at the map which showed the squares of land belonging to the railway and those at the disposal of the State, we had occasion to ascertain that all the plots (the 620-acre squares adjacent to the line) were disposed of, or only to be had at a very considerable increase on the normal rates. I cannot tell how many small settlements we passed on our way till we halted at the station where Messrs. Close have been carrying on for some time their farming operations. The general character of the country was that of an undulating plain covered invariably with thick, coarse grass and seamed with deep watercourses, which in England, indeed, would be called rivers, by the sides of which grew trees and dense vegetation. The houses and stations were of wood, and I do not think that I saw a stone or brick building for many miles.
One of the objects of the detour made north-westwards from Chicago to St. Paul was to pass through Iowa and Wisconsin, and to gratify the desire expressed by the Duke as well to see a country of such great natural fertility and resources, as the process of turning the virgin soil. An opportunity of doing this was to be afforded to us by the Messrs. Close, well-known on the river in times gone by as accomplished oarsmen, who now own large farms in the West. They have in their own occupancy a tract of 42,000 acres, which they intend to divide into farms and on it to build about one hundred houses for their tenants and found a colony, which has indeed been for some time in progress. The party got out near the station of Sibley on the St. Paul and Omaha Railway, where the train stopped, and drove to one of the farms, Le Mars, twenty-five miles from Sioux City, which was inspected with great interest by the Duke and his agricultural friends, as the plough was then turning soil that never had yet been touched by the hand of man. The figures furnished by Messrs. Close show good results; they are quite willing to welcome any gentleman desirous to try his fortune out West as a tenant, on conditions which they will communicate, the general principle being that the tenant and the landowner should be in co-partnership, the returns of the occupant's farming to be divided in certain proportions between him and the owners, until such time as the former becomes absolute proprietor. There are several gentlemen already engaged in this way, and we heard of persons coming from districts in Ireland, Scotland, or England, who had associated together for mutual help and support, and of those it was said that fair success was so far crowning their struggle. For struggle it is, even under most favourable circumstances. At first the conditions of life are hard; what would be considered at home privations, in the matter of food, drink, and living, by the class furnishing these emigrants, has to be endured or the fight must be given up; and it is not until after some years that a little ease can be indulged in, the comforts and the necessaries of life secured, and the tension of constant effort to make even virgin soil yield adequate resources be unknown. Here, as elsewhere, capital is needed. The possession of it ensures a good start, a patient toleration of present mischiefs with the assurance of a better time to come.
After the inspection of part of the farm, the Duke and his friends returned to the train and continued their journey. In traversing the immense expanse of prairie-land which lies between the boundary of Minnesota and Sioux City, the traveller is struck by the paucity of houses. The Sioux City and St. Paul Railway has, however, a great future before it. If the statement of Mr. J. H. Drake, land commissioner at St. Paul, Minnesota, be true, and I see no reason to doubt it, a million acres of unsurpassed farming and stock lands are at the disposal of the "wide, wide world," if it has money in its pockets, with the certainty of a magnificent fortune out of that investment. The system of location of lands is very well known, and any one who wishes to gain full information respecting it cannot do better than procure one of the maps which the St. Paul and Sioux City Railway will send with pleasure, and which exhibits the lots in the possession of the State, and those which the Company have disposed of, or hold over for purchase, numbered. The districts are laid out in squares of 640 acres (5200 square feet to the front); but arrangements can be made by which 40 acres of land can be purchased. Each block alternates with a block of the same size belonging to the State. The shaded squares on the map indicate that they are the property of the Company. Each shaded block is numbered; and the intending purchaser has only to fix upon the line in which it is situated and give the number, and he will procure all the particulars respecting it. But I fear that if it be adjacent to the railway, he will find he has been forestalled, for the land-speculators have been very active, and in Minnesota good prospects are not often to be had at a low price.
A number of ponds, attaining in some places the dimensions of lakes of very considerable size, and worthy of the names they bear, were visible from the railway; one indeed—Heron lake—resembling an inland sea. It is 326 miles, by the Iowa division of the Illinois Central Railway, from Dubuque to Sioux City on the Missouri; all along the Sioux City and St. Paul Railway, the Black Hills branch to Woodstock, the Sioux Falls branch to Valley Springs, and the Rock River branch there are blocks of 640 acres belonging to the Company, apparently well watered if they be like those through which we passed, abounding in rich grasses and wide-spreading meadows; so that if there be not some reason at work, in climate or the like, which prevents an accumulation of settlers, I cannot see why Jackson county, Wattowa, Nobles, Ocecola, Lyon, and other counties, should not be densely settled, at no distant period, by a thriving agricultural and pastoral community.
I confess my head could not hold the statistics which were driven into it only to come out again. It is 117 miles to St. James, and we took about four hours to do the distance, so that the speed left nothing to be complained of. But all the time of our journey, the kind gentlemen who accompanied us poured out information in a copious stream respecting the value of the lands, the fortunes of lots, and the particulars as to the little towns we passed through. Notable was it, however, that at the smallest of these there was sure to be a school-house and some place of worship, whatever the sect might be. But the names, I confess, left few memories behind them: Kasota junction, Mankalto, Christal, all become mixed up with Madelia and St. James when I try to recollect them.
We reached Sioux City at 9.20, continuing our journey all night, and slept in the train, which travelled pretty smoothly.
The easy natural way in which we all "turn in" now at the end of the day would make one suppose it was almost our normal state of life. In fact it is a cruise on wheels, a yachting excursion on iron waves rolling over the land, and this is becoming more lively as we approach the Missouri. There is a cloudy lining to the brightness of the prospect hereabouts. The rivers have been playing havoc, and we are obliged to read in the papers of great mischief by flood and storm, of cyclones and fires, damage to crops and property, and loss of life. Other things we read too. "Right Royally Received! Handsomely Entertained! They Express Admiration of the Wonderful Development and Beautiful Scenery. They Still Think Their System of Railway Management the Best. The Ducal Party Dine!" The climate must have a strange effect on us all. The Duke is a veritable Proteus in dress and looks. Sir H. Green is a man so various that he seems to be "Not one but all mankind's epitome." Mr. Stephen glides steadily through the columns of description with a fair share of commendation and uniformity. I have suddenly become bald, Mr. Neale is a universal favourite, though there is some tendency to resent his reluctance to admit the American system is better than the L. & N. W. R. Mr. Bickersteth and the Auditor and Mr. G. Crosfield are subjected to much modification of description. Crockett has whole paragraphs of apocryphal matter all to himself, but our conductors and drivers are uniformly mentioned in terms of respectful admiration in the local journal.
One paper under the heading of "Cousin George, With Other Distinguished Members of The Foreign Branch of Our Family," gives an account of the party which is certainly minute enough, for the writer, having described the Duke's appearance and dress, observes that "on the little finger of his right hand was a seal ring worn smooth;" but perhaps the description would have been more caustic had not the Chronicler or Dispatcher been propitiated by the admission "that the palace-car was exceedingly elegant, and that nothing like it existed on any of the roads in England."
The interviewers in the Western cities were not as numerous as they were at New York, but there was still a fair demand for information respecting the object of the Duke's visit. It is strange that America, which floods Europe with travellers and sightseers, should be represented in the press at home by gentlemen who want to know why a party of English people have come to the United States. Their descriptions of our personnel, if sometimes flattering, were, as I have said, variable, and the Duke of Sutherland has been represented as "a merry little man," "a tall, grave, serious gentleman," "of aristocratic mien and attire," "of plain aspect and unpretending dress," "with a limp," and with "a swift, strong stride," &c. Most of us were subjected to observations, generally in a kindly spirit, even in the case of the person to whom the papers still attach the soubriquet of "Bull Run Russell" (myself to wit), which was given to me because, twenty years ago, I had the misfortune of being obliged to write an account of a strategic movement of the Federal army, from the advance upon Richmond back upon the Potomac, in which I was involved.
May 26th.—At 10 in the morning we found ourselves at the great Depôt between Council Bluffs and Omaha, where a long delay ensued, whilst arrangements were being made to defeat the attempt of the river Missouri to obstruct us, by effecting a detour of some seventy miles to Creston, whence we were to work over the damaged rails to Kansas City, where we intended to arrive and to sleep at 9.30 P.M. I do not think I should like to creep along an inundated line, with the Missouri close at my flank, every day in the week, but it was very interesting for once in a way, and the engineer was especially commended for his skill in driving us over such an exciting railroad.
The recent inundation in the West, of which we had heard in the Eastern States, had done fully as much mischief as was reported. Looking from the station, mud and slime, trunks of trees, and debris of all kinds, as far as the eye could reach, told of the ruinous extent of the overflow. For more than 200 miles the railway had suffered severely; in some places the "track" had been completely submerged or destroyed. But the gentlemen who had charge of our movements were not to be beaten by even Missouri in full flood, and arrangements were made for the train to circumvent the enemy by a wide sweep round its flank to a point of junction of the line with the railroad to Kansas City. The detour enabled us to see a country of extraordinary fertility, but the liability to such floods must seriously interfere with its attractions as a permanent residence or for profitable farming. The train reached Creston at 12.30, and continued its course immediately, running over a line which had been hastily repaired, and was by no means pleasant to travel over for long intervals. At 3.15 we were at Bolcklow—ninety-four miles from Kansas City—and in an hour and three-quarters came out upon the great river Missouri at a "cut-off" where it was flowing in a stream of liquid mud three miles broad, carrying with it branches, trees, fences, straw, and corn. It was indeed very gingerly work to drive the engine, which at times threatened to slide from under us into the stream, and the boldest held his breadth for a time, when, coming to a very bad bit, and looking out ahead, we saw the engineers anxiously consulting with the directors of the train, and felt the labouring of the engine as it rose up and down over the uneven line. Unless I had witnesses to corroborate my statement I should be loth to aver that on several occasions the rails have sunk so much that when the train was passing over them the end of one carriage was tilted up at a considerable angle to the roof of that which followed it! Winthrop Junction is forty-eight miles from Kansas City, but we did not arrive there until 6.30, having been all that time getting over the ground from Bolcklow. Thenceforth the anxieties of the journey became aggravated instead of lessened; the line was worse and worse, and the interest deepened low or rose high as the engineer, failing to surmount a sharp rise up to the level of the line, over a sort of hole into which we had fallen, reversed the engine, then put on steam, and with a great struggle succeeded in getting into position again. It is quite as well our friends of the London and North-Western had this little experience of western travel ere they left. This was to be the last night that we were all to consort together, for the party was now about to break up into two divisions; Messrs. Crosfield, Bickersteth, and Neale returning to New York on their way home, the Duke, Sir H. and Lady Green, Mr. Stephen, Mr. Wright and I going on to San Francisco; and at dinner in the train, in the middle of the contending emotions which were occasioned by the conditions under which we were continuing our course to the West, the Auditor made a feeling little speech which touched the heart and gained the assent of the company, and healths were proposed.
"Coates's House," Kansas City, on which we descended late at night, is not exactly the hotel a fastidious or exacting person would select as an abiding place if he had one experience of it. Moreover, there was a convention at Coates's House. We have been much exercised by "Conventions," dropping upon them at unexpected times and places—"Conventions" of doctors, of druggists, of railway conductors; and these being in possession, and masters of the situation, were always the most favoured guests. A stranger accustomed to have his own way in his inn, and to have his orders attended to with dispatch, might perhaps have his temper ruffled by the divine calm of the coloured citizens who officiated as helps, or by the haughty composure of the landlord, probably a warrior of renown, and assuredly a "colonel," at the very least who did not complaints or importunities. Quoth British railway director to mine host at the office:—"There is no looking-glass in my bedroom, and I can't find any basin and ewer." To whom the lord of Coates's House:—"Well, I've done the best I can for you! There are ladies sleeping on the floor! And if you don't like what you get here, there are other hotels in Kansas City, and you can go to them if you please." Director collapsed. But he appeared clothed and in his right mind in the morning, and I do not think the Colonel meant to be at all uncivil. Perhaps a party of ten coming in after hours, each demanding a separate bedroom, is considered as a disturbing and aggressive element, to be promptly sat upon and repressed. Next morning we were all up and downstairs betimes. An ample breakfast was well served by white women, aided by "darkies," in the public room, and then came the leave-taking with Mr. Bickersteth, Mr. Crosfield and Mr. Neale, the friends and companions with whom we had been living and travelling day and night, since the 23rd April, in harmony, which was not marred for an instant even when there were discussions concerning the programme, or small conflicts of wishes. The regret of which the outward and visible sign was only a deal of hand-shaking and simply expressed good wishes, based on the harmony of our mutual relations, was sincere. We saw our friends off on their journey to New York, and bade good-bye to Mr. Whelpley our conductor, Mr. Whitfield the baggage-master, who had been with us all along, and to the steward and excellent valetaille of the train, to whose care we were very deeply indebted for our comfort.
We were now transferred to the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fé Railroad Company. Mr. White, representative of it, who took charge of the Duke and his party, was certainly an admirable selection in all respects, as we had every reason to acknowledge every day and night of the many weeks we were so fortunate as to enjoy his society and profit by his quiet thoughtfulness. Mr. White is one of those Americans—the modern types in all his good qualities of Juvenal's Greek—whom no one, after a short experience of the versatility of their talents—quick, sagacious, bold yet cautious, with a keen eye for character and much quiet humour, full of decision and resource—would be surprised to hear of as candidates for the highest office. He brought with him Mayor Anderson, a railway official who had wide experience of campaigning in the Civil War, and who carried about in his person a leaden memento of battle, which had no effect on his animal spirits, or, I am glad to add, his bodily health; Mr. Jerome, an officer of the Chicago Railway; and Mr. Townsend, correspondent of the Field, to the readers of which he is known, under the name of "St. Kames," as the author of lively papers. We left Kansas City at 11.30, in a complete little special train consisting of two luggage and two saloon and sleeping cars, simply perfection in finish, elegance, and internal arrangements, with kitchen, cooking apparatus, dining and sitting saloon, harmonium, tables covered with bouquets of choice flowers, thanks to Mr. Pullman.
Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fé Railroad—Land Grants—Farming Statistics—Immigration and Settling—Colorado—New Mexico—Santa Fé—Colossal Hotels—Archbishop Lamy—The Rio Grande.
We have now taken a new point of departure. In a few minutes we are in the State of Kansas (in which Kansas City is not, it is in Missouri) and the western world lies before us. We have crossed the great river by a bridge 1387 ft. long, which cost 200,000l.
Kansas has now been opened up, as it is called. The Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fé Railway, incorporated in 1863, is one of the most important trunk railways of the American continent. It now extends, with its branches, over 1700 miles; but although it was authorised as a railway in the year I have mentioned, the line from Topeka westward was not commenced till 1869; and it was not till 1871 that communication was completed to Newton, and a branch made to Wichita. In the following year the line was completed between Atchison and Topeka; and in 1875 and 1876 between Topeka and Kansas City, with an extension westward to Pueblo in Colorado, increasing the mileage to 820. And now it has spanned rivers, tunnelled mountains, and crossed deserts to Florida Pass in New Mexico, where it "connects" with the Southern Pacific Railway and completes the communication with San Francisco. The Company are still developing and pushing out their lines. The Santa Fé Railroad is striking out for Albuquerque, New Mexico, to make a short route to San Francisco. Another line is being made to Guaymas, on the Gulf of California; and another to the city of Mexico itself. And when all these are completed the boast of the Handbook of the Company will be justified, and the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fé will be the longest railway in the world under one management. It will have every reasonable chance of being also the main continental route to China, Japan, Australia, and South America, tapping a large share of the passenger traffic to India, and leading across the American Continent streams of voyagers and tourists. When the Guaymas line is finished there will be a saving of not less than 1400 miles over the San Francisco route between New York and Australia; and Japan and China will be brought nearer by 800 and 1000 miles respectively.
Now it does not, I think, fall within the scope of such a book as this, which is intended to be a record of what a certain number of people did in a short tour in the United States, rather than a work of reference for emigrants, or repository of investigation, to offer any opinion which might mislead those who are looking towards the western world for their future homes and for the scene of their labours in search of competence or fortune; but from what I was told I think it may be taken as true that the railway company I have named has acted with a liberality, in regard to the settlers in the State of Kansas, which, if it has brought in return profits to them, must be admitted to have entitled them to the praise of liberal and intelligent dealing. When misfortune came upon the State, and the frontier settlers needed help, the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fé Railway gave it them, and carried them away from the scene of the failure, or granted them terms for the repayment of the obligations they incurred if they were willing to stay upon the farms. The Company have given fair warning to all comers that they do not encourage them to rush off to what is called the "Far West," and to wander about in the wilderness in the hope that they will find quails and manna already cooked and tumbling from the skies. They say that they do not advise any person to come to Kansas to start farming unless he has capital enough to run it for a year. By Act of Congress, in 1863, 3,000,000 acres of land were granted to the Company in alternate sections, between Cottonwood and the border of Kansas on the west, extending twenty miles each side on the line as far as Kinsley, where the breadth narrows to ten miles at each side. Government in these Western States, in the case of grants like this, is authorised by Congress to retain the alternative sections of one square mile, equal to 640 acres, which are retained for homestead and pre-emption; and at the time at which I am writing all the even-numbered sections which are thus belonging to the Government are occupied by settlers as far west as Spearville, and the sections with odd numbers within ten and twenty miles of the railway, belonging to the Railway Company, have now been largely appropriated, about one-third having been sold to actual settlers. But the Company state that it is almost impossible now to find any vacant land over one mile from a neighbour's house, or over three miles from a school-house east of Spearville, except in the strip of sandhills lying on the south side of the Arkansas Railway. In many of the counties, the country is thickly settled and improved, and has an appearance of having been farmed for a quarter of a century instead of a few years.
It would probably be unjust to suppose that the praise and recommendation of the gentlemen connected with the great lines are much, if at all, influenced by the consideration of their own interests as officers or shareholders; and therefore I may take it for granted that the assertion, that "no matter what the speciality of the farmer may be, he will find soil and climate in the sections of the Company to suit him," is justified. Along by Cottonwood, and the eastern half of the Marion county, the high rolling prairie, covered with sweet nutritious grass, broken at short intervals by numerous valleys of corn, a quarter of a mile to a mile wide, through which flow perennial streams fed by hundreds of living springs, and fringed with timber, is peculiarly adapted to cattle-raising and dairying as a speciality, and the soil and climate are favourable to general farming. Between Florence and the Great Bend is described as the finest portion of Kansas. The county is gently rolling, in rich fields of which nearly every acre can be tilled, with deep upland soil and dark sandy loam underlaid with a porous marl, almost equal in fertility and affording a perfect and natural drainage. It is almost ridiculous to enumerate the crops which can be grown, according to my authority in this district—corn, wheat, oats, rye, barley, flax, buckwheat, tobacco, Irish and sweet potatoes, sorghum, castor-beans, broom-corn, rice-corn, millet, clover, timothy, peanuts, silkworms, apples, peaches, pears, plums, cherries, grapes, and all kinds of vegetables.
There was in 1879, and a part of last year, a terrible drought in the western portion of the State, and Mr. Bennyworth, seeing that wheat could not be grown in consequence, planted 600 acres of sugar-cane, and was rewarded for his intelligence and enterprise by a crop of which the sugar and syrup are equal to the best of Louisiana—10 tons to the acre, every ton producing 80 lbs. of sugar and 2 gallons of syrup, the average yield of the acre being 800 lbs. of sugar, at 10c., and 20 gallons of syrup. Value of the crop $75 to $80 per acre, or from 15l. to 16l., which is, they say, a clear profit of 8l. an acre. The United States at present pays about 20,000,000l. to foreign countries for sugar; and if this new industry succeeds, a large outflow of money will be cut off and turned westwards into the pockets of the Kansas farmer. Dhoura, or Egyptian corn, is being also cultivated with success, and is pronounced very excellent food for hogs, cattle, and horses, giving the stock-raiser of the West cheap food for his cattle, and, in conjunction with the buffalo-grass, enabling him to fatten them at the smallest possible rate.
In South Central Kansas, forest trees are rapidly growing up; for it would seem that before the country was settled trees were not found at all, except by the banks of the streams. Between the Great Bend and Dodge City the country has the same deep, rich, well-drained soil, but it presents a great change in the climate and the grasses, the latter being principally the buffalo-grass, instead of the tall blue-stained grass of the country farther east. As we go westward from the Great Bend, there is a higher elevation, a drier atmosphere and a smaller rainfall, and a different system of cropping is required. Winter wheat is dangerous to meddle with, because there may be a short rainfall, which happens once every five years, and then failure is certain; but broom-corn can get on in dry weather, and the sugar-cane has never failed. The manufacture of sugar at Larned in Pawnee County is declared to have been so successful that sugar-growing and making give every promise of being the coming industry in South-western Kansas; and in the same district, sheep-raising has made marked progress. But it is admitted that the result was very much in consequence of the failure of the wheat-crop. Capital is required here for growing wheat, broom-corn, or sugar, or breeding sheep or cattle. West of Dodge City the Company admit that there is only grazing to be had, except along the valley of the Arkansas river, where irrigation is being carried on with successful results in fitting the soil to raise vegetables for the markets in Colorado and New Mexico. It must be remembered that the average elevation of the great region which is traversed by the rail is about 200 feet above the level of the sea; and although I will not go so far as to believe that chills and fevers, asthma, consumption, and pulmonary diseases do not exist, or are relieved and cured by the air, I think there is ground for accepting the statement that the climate is generally healthy.
I cannot offer any opinion on the great question of water supply, but the Railway Company aver that the eastern half of their grant is well watered by running streams, and that though in the western half there are longer intervals between the watercourses, ample supplies of this great necessary can be obtained at a depth of 15 to 50 feet below the surface, and it is only on the summit of the high divides that greater depth must be reached before water is struck. The employment of windmills is becoming pretty general.
Now as to the rainfall. Over such a large extent of territory, it is not to be wondered at that there should be a considerable difference in the averages. The Eastern Belt of Kansas has an average rainfall of 33 inches, the Centre Belt 25 inches, and the Western Belt 20 inches; the sufficiency of this rainfall depends upon the nature of the soil, a fact to be remembered and taken much to heart by every man who goes out to Kansas with a view to settling there, and his family. There is almost a menace in the words in which they are told by the local authorities, that deep ploughing, repeated harrowing, and frequent rolling are required for success, and that no State requires so high a standard of intelligence as Kansas. Slipshod farming is not profitable anywhere, least of all in Kansas; my friends of the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fé Railway admit that there are people who, returning to the east, denounce the climate and the country which they could not understand or work; but take heart at the thought that they are the shiftless who are weeded out, and that pluck and intelligence are attracted and will prosper on a soil peculiarly suited for them.
Kansas was organised as a territory in 1854. It then contained 8000 people. In January 1861 it was admitted into the Union as a State, but the population at that time was not 110,000 souls. In the Civil War party spirit ran high, and the struggle between the Federals and Confederates was protracted and fierce. But the majority of the emigrants were the hardy and adventurous people of the North and North-west States, and these, notwithstanding the vicinity of the great slave States and their consequent influence, established their ascendency, and amongst the most valiant soldiers of the Union were the men of Kansas regiments, of whom it is said that 61 per cent. fell in battle.
On the establishment of the Federal Government, the increase of Kansas was rapid, and the development of the State in the last fifteen years is said to be unparalleled in the history of these lands of wondrous growth and progress, even when compared with the most rapid extension of the most prosperous of its western neighbours. The population increased from 136,000 in 1865, to 997,000 last year. Taxable property in the same time increased from $36,000,000 to $160,000,000; the taxation for State purposes from $217,000 to $884,000. The taxes which were $1 60c. in 1865, were not 89c. last year. The State debts had increased from $456,000 to $1,182,000; but the amount per head had fallen from $3 35c. to $1 18c. The assessed value of the State is 50 per cent. less than the real value. The total number of acres in the State was given at 52,000,000 some odd thousands; but there is a remarkable fact to be noticed, that of these only 22,000,000 and some odd thousands are returned as taxable. The wealth of the State per head is given at the very respectable figure of $323, which may be taken to be about 65l.; and the total value of farm products in 1879 was $81,000,000. There were 5000 school-houses; 7000 teachers in the State; the invested school fund amounted to $1,684,000, and the annual school fund to $303,000; and the estimated value of all unsold school lands to $13,000,000.
We are threatened over in the East with an extraordinary rush of cattle across the Atlantic, and from Kansas will come, should that menace be realised, which I do not believe, a very large share of the contribution to our food resources. The corn crop of the State yielded over 100,000,000 bushels in one year; but it is not so much what the value of that crop is, as the amount of cattle, sheep, pigs and horses it would feed, that the Kansas people consider. In 1880, however, the returns did not quite alarm one, although the increase in stock in fifteen years was very remarkable. There were 1,116,000 cattle; 1,282,000 pigs; 427,000 sheep; 368,000 horses, and 59,000 mules. The total value of the stock was estimated at something over 12,000,000l. Note, however, that there has been a failure in the grass crops of Mexico and Colorado, and that vast flocks of sheep were driven perforce from those regions into Western Kansas. I have heard from a good authority that it has been found that herds of cattle absolutely deteriorate the grass instead of enriching it, which is a phenomenon that requires explanation. With respect to sheep there appears to be more certainty. In some districts a threefold increase has taken place in the quantity of stock in one year. Generally, as to prices, there is but an increase of 5 per cent. over the cost of necessary articles in the East, in the large Kansas stores.
While the increase in the population of the United States for the last ten years has been about 1,000,000 per annum, the increase in that of Kansas has been 100,000 annually, or one-tenth of the entire increase of the forty-seven States and Territories of the Union. It is believed that when the next census is taken nine years hence, Kansas will be in the position of the fourth or fifth of the States in population and productiveness—yesterday an infant, to-day a giant. However, the giant is exposed to many sorts of trouble as he is attaining his development.
I fear to weary my readers more with figures, but any one who is interested in the actual condition of Kansas, and desirous of investigating the statistics connected with it, will have no difficulty in obtaining full information by applying to the Land Commissioner at Topeka, or to any officer of the United States Government connected with the land.
In order that emigrants may test with their own eyes as far as possible the reality of the statements made respecting these lands, tickets are issued, good for forty days, which may be obtained at all the railway offices in the United States. The holder must go in five days to the Arkansas Valley, and return from it in the same time, so that he will have thirty days to examine the country between Cottonwood and Dodge City; and if a purchase of 160 acres be made from the Company, the amount of the fare will be refunded, and half the fare if the emigrant buys eighty acres. Now as to the people who should come. The artisan looking for employment, the young man who desires to be a clerk, the farmer who has no capital, the man who wants to be rich in a few years without hard work—these are not wanted; there is no hope for them; nor is there for the man who has made a failure wherever he has tried to succeed; nor the agriculturist who sets out with a great stock of machinery under a heavy mortgage. But men and women who expect to meet drawbacks, and who are not discouraged, and not afraid to work; who know how to economise, and possess intelligence, judgment, and enterprise—these, and plenty of them, are wanted. So are people of capital. What is called a gritty farmer may start in a small way with 200l., but to give him a fair chance he ought to have at least double the money. A man with 1000l. can secure—mind, non mea sermo—a fine farm in South Central Kansas in a well-settled community, near schools and churches; put one-third of his capital into stock, and nothing short of mismanagement can prevent the realisation of 33 per cent. from his stock investment. The people who have got all these good things, moral and material, to start with, may do very well in other places. The remark upon that is, that they must succeed in Kansas.
I have seen too many evidences of wealth, natural and acquired, to doubt of the greatness of the future which is opening in the Far West to the citizens of the Republic; but I also have witnessed, even from the windows of a railway train, sufficient to make me aware of the great struggles which must be made by pioneers, and by the early colonists and settlers in these distant regions, before the conditions of civilised life be fulfilled. There can be no question of the severity and length of the winters, but then we were told on all sides, with a concurrent testimony that could not be disputed or doubted, that the exceeding dryness of the climate renders the most excessive cold of very much less actual consequence to the sufferer than it would be in a country where there is moisture in the air. In fact in these Prairie regions, when the thermometer is perhaps 15° or 20° below freezing point, the cold is not so severely felt as with us when it is only 2° or 3° below 32°.
The existence of insect plagues—bugs and beetles of all kinds, or at least many destructive species—the prevalence of drought, violent tornados, the sudden rising of great rivers, forest and grass fires, all and each present elements of insecurity for the harvest. It would seem that one of the most serious mischiefs which the early settler has to encounter—I do not speak of the Indians, who are only to be found in certain districts far away from the region of which I am writing—is the insufficiency of the capital with which most of them begin life. They think that when they have got a square of land they have an assured subsistence, but when they come to break it up and to procure seed and agricultural implements, in a country where labour is scarcely to be had even on exorbitant terms, they find that their little capital with which they commenced—the greater part of which was probably absorbed in the erection of the humble dwelling in which they are content to live at the beginning—is quite insufficient to meet their needs and to enable them to tide over the interval between their establishment on the land and the time when any reward can be reaped for their labour. They and their families must live; food must be bought; and so it is that among these outlying settlements there is one sure harvest to be reaped—that is, the gain of the money-lender, I will not say usurer, who advances on the security of the land sums for which he charges 10, 15 or 20 per cent. interest. Formerly the struggle was not so severe as it is now, because the land was more accessible, and speculators, whose operations have attracted unfavourable comment, had not come into possession; but now it will be very hard indeed to obtain at moderate rates any land on the great lines of railway of a superior quality, except at a high price; and the settler is obliged to go far afield, and to strike out into the country which has not been appropriated by the land-shark.
It would be unsatisfactory to rely on statements, often interested, which one hears respecting the resources of the country; and it was not to be expected that the opportunity of influencing one who might direct a considerable amount of emigration and of money into these parts, would be lost by active-minded gentlemen who are interested in the land. But making allowance for all exaggerations, and trusting to the evidence of one's senses, I could not but believe that a young man with 500l. at his command, clear of all deductions, with determination to get on, a little practical knowledge of agriculture, and absolute self-control to resist the temptations of prairie life, would be master of an assured competence in four or five years, unless he were exceedingly unfortunate or subject to some of the vicissitudes of which I have spoken.
A man can buy outright in Kansas a farm for a year's rent of one in the East, and in less than ten years he can make a good living for himself and family. It is amusing almost to be assured that if he has a wife she should come with him, "because her husband is a landed proprietor, and she will find the social distinctions which in the East are drawn between the family of the landowner and those of the mere renter." They may think that the society they have left is different from that which they will find out in the West, but if they come they will discover as many families of refinement and education among the Kansas farmers as in any part of the States.
The terms of sale are different. First, there is No. 1, or eleven years' credit, with 7 per cent. interest. Let us take a farm of 160 acres, at $5 per acre, bought on the 1st of April, 1882. The first payment of one-tenth of the principal and 7 per cent. interest on the remainder, in all $130 40c., must be made at the time of purchase—that is 26l. In April the following year the payment is only the 7 per cent. interest, and the same for the second year, namely, $50 40c. for each year. On the third year one-tenth of the principal, with 7 per cent. on the balance, amounting to $124 80c., and so on each succeeding year, so that in 1893 the man would become the owner of his plot of 160 acres, for which he would have paid $800 principal and $352 80c. interest—total, $1152 80c., or 225l. In the six years' credit, or No. 2 term, the first payment is made, at date of purchase, of one-sixth principal and 7 per cent.; the second payment is interest only; and in the subsequent year one-sixth of the sum and 7 per cent. interest, and so on; but the Company will give a discount from the appraised prices of 20 per cent. under these circumstances. On two years' credit they allow 30 per cent., the payments being three in number; the first, a third of the principal at the time of purchase, with 10 per cent. interest on the balance, and that balance being paid in two annual instalments. So with the same farm under this system, on term No. 3, the farmer will pay $560 for securing 160 acres of land, and $56 interest, or $616 altogether—about 123l. Where the whole amount of the purchase money is paid down a discount of 33⅓ per cent. is made, so that one can become the owner of 160 acres for $533 33c.; or, if payments are made in advance of maturity, and deed taken up, purchasers on long credit will be allowed a liberal discount. There were still about 1,105,000 acres of land to be let, varying in price from $4 an acre in Sedgewick County, to $1 50c. in Stafford, Pawnee, &c.
Droughty Kansas, as it is called, was smitten severely last year, but it is hoped that at least twenty will elapse before the State is afflicted by a similar visitation; and the rain-belt is said to be travelling westward in the past twenty-five years, each increase of acreage cultivated adding to the moisture store, and the capacity of the soil increasing the evaporation.
Travellers like ourselves must depend greatly upon hearsay for any information that we can derive respecting the resources of the country through which we are going.
There are few buildings which would be considered of a permanent character visible from the railway train at the stations. They are generally built for the accommodation of some small town close at hand. Wood, generally to be found in the West before the prairie lands are reached, furnishes the material of which most public edifices and private habitations are constructed; and invariably there is to be seen, wherever a dozen such houses are placed together, one structure, generally the most important of all—the school; and a church and a printing office. These are great agencies. Nothing has perhaps done more to develop the energy of the American people than the amount of general intelligence which has been diffused by the State from the very outset of the Republic by the system of Common Schools, which dates far back, long previous to the successful assertion of their independence by the colonists, and which was grafted upon the institutions of the country.
The line of rail regulates its course by the windings of the Kansas River for nearly 200 miles, and as we journeyed on the dim outlines of the Rocky Mountains could be discerned, and they gradually strengthened and grew high and broad as we sped westwards. Towns of which we had never heard rose up imposingly on the plain. Lawrence and Topeka, capital of the State (60 miles from Kansas City), and smaller settlements in a wonderful country. "What have these people done," exclaimed one of my companions, "that God should be so good to them?" And that was said more than once, I think, and would be felt far oftener by distressed agriculturists if they could see the country. All day long we ran through this land of fatness, conversing with our new companions, whom we found very intelligent and agreeable. There was a fresh "crew" on board our ship, but we found no reason to regret the change, loth as we had been to part with our late attendants. The sun set over the western slopes, night fell—our companions retired to their own carriages, and after a talk over our new experiences we followed their example.
May 28th.—The "track" was not always in good order, and the car was "agitated" pretty violently at times, for we were going at a very fair speed over exceedingly sharp curves; in fact, no waggon on the English principle could be expected to remain on the rail at all; and so I had occasion ever and anon to peep out at the stars, for I was shut in and curtained closely in my Pullman, and observed that the country had subsided into a dead waste, treeless, and apparently houseless, through which flowed a broad river, bank-full, and almost on a level with the rail. The line struck the Arkansas at Nickerson, and never left it for hundreds of miles. I awoke at dawn from a troublous sleep, and looked out on the outer world from my secluded couch—on a world so utterly unlike that through which we had passed yesterday, that it was scarcely possible to imagine that we had only travelled through the darkness of one night at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour in the same land. The border line had been passed at "Serjeants," 10 miles east, and we were now in Colorado.
Colorado is a vast square, extending from 25° to 35° west longitude, from 37° to 41° of latitude from Washington. It is bounded by New Mexico on the south, Kansas and Nebraska on the east, Wyoming Territory on the north, and Utah on the west. The great mass of the population is concentrated about the middle of the State, at Denver, Leadville, and on the course of the rivers adjacent to the principal mining districts. On the west towards Utah an enormous extent of country is occupied by Indian reservations, and there are also mountain ranges and vast plateaus which, as yet, are unsettled and almost uninhabited.
By the side of the rail there spread away to the horizon a plain apparently as flat as the sea itself, but the course and current of the river on our left showed that there was a steady rise to the west; the Arkansas has a fall of 7 feet in the mile, so that we mount westward at that rate till we reach the summit of the great upheaval of the Rockies, the existence of which would not otherwise be cognizable. The plain is covered with tufted grass, the soil is thin and sandy. At long intervals a small wooden shanty. Now and then a roof visible above the level of the plain, covering an excavated dwelling—the solitary window just even with the ground, the doorway buried in a covered way, and the early inhabitant pretty sure to have his or her head thereat to inspect the passing train. Prairie dogs popped up their inquisitive faces. Turkey buzzards soared over the carcases of cattle killed on the line, the number of which must be pretty large, if all the skeletons by the way belonged to the category.
As morning broke the greatness of the change became more marked. Farewell to fat corn-fields and undulating plains, beseamed with tree-embowered, deeply set, and muddy rivers, to frequent villages and Kansas towns, to the cheerful aspect of labour and its rich rewards, to the rows of tender green maize, the expanses of wheat, the herds of cattle, belly-deep in the meadows, the black swine wallowing in the ponds! I do not say "farewell" regretfully, but use the word to express a complete departure from the scene of yesterday. By the margin of the river belts of cotton-wood trees lent shade as the day wore on to herds of wild-looking cattle, and presently vast flocks of sheep and lambs appeared on the plain, and droves of horses, the mares with foals at their feet, tended by mounted men, accompanied by slim wiry greyhounds. These belonged to the marshes, which became more frequent as we progressed westward. The character of the soil gradually improved; patches of flowers, purple, blue, and yellow, gave brightness to the colouring of the prairie grass, but it is not easy to identify species from the windows of a railway carriage. Here Pawnees and Apaches hunted the buffaloes, which not long ago literally blackened the meadows. Soon after 8 A.M. the train stopped at Granada—three or four scattered detached houses—a "store," "a drover's home," a ticket-office; the Duke and some others got out "to change the air," and to talk to some workmen who were digging a deep well for engine supply.
More life perhaps, and greater show of cattle and horses—interesting too in what there was to see, for it was of novel aspect; toiling over the track parallel to the railway, tilt-covered carts, one or two, or three perhaps, of emigrants making westwards "immer und immer"; groups of tents where the wayfarers halted; the usual outcome of women and children gazing at the special; tall, long-haired, wild-looking men tending their herds, riding lasso in hand after the wild colts scampering in the distance, for we are now in New Mexico.
If a Boer in a trance were taken up by the breeches and dropped hereabouts, he would surely begin to look about for his house! It is the Transvaal all over—the Drakensberg, with patches of snow here and there on the peaks near at hand. The land does not flow with milk or water, but there is coal in the hills, and there is wealth of sheep, horses, and herds. The "burro" or donkey, which plays such an important part in the domestic economy of the Mexican, abounded; explorers' covered carts, termed "desert schooners," with white tilt roofs, were seen on the plain.
A little before noon the train reached La Junta (the junction)—pronounced by the natives "Le Hunter." Mount Fisher on one side, the Spanish Peak on the other, towered higher and higher. At last, beyond Starkville, we reached the summit pass of the Rocky range, here 9000 feet high. It needed two engines to haul the train up the summit, which is perforated by a tunnel 1700 feet long. I am not sure that the Sömmering or the Bhoreghaut presented greater engineering difficulties. We got out to walk across the hill—not a mile—and were well rewarded for the slight exertion, for there is a grand panoramic view from the top, and we rejoined the train at the foot laden with wild flowers and delighted with the scenery. Our American friends told us not to hurry, as the air was so rarefied it might affect us; but I do not think any of the party were inconvenienced by the climb or descent. Lady Green was the first Englishwoman who ever crossed the summit. There are not, we were told, more than half-a-dozen American or other ladies who have ever been over it.
A little further west we crossed towards evening the frontier of New Mexico. We whistled rejoicingly along cañons, slid down by the sides of tremendous ravines, and sidled into the lower regions, where the train found rest in a siding for the night at Las Vegas ("the meadows").
May 29th.—The ship of the desert was under weigh soon after 6 A.M., and the promises made that early risers would be rewarded by fine scenery were amply fulfilled. We were still making our way by wide, sweeping curves downwards to the hilly plains of New Mexico—a novel flora and a complete change of forestry—scarce a house visible, stations at long intervals, sage bush, juniper, and firs, the river courses marked by belts of cotton-wood trees.
At last we reached Santa Fé—a very pleasant break, indeed, but short, alas! at this ancient city—the oldest now existing on this North American Continent—100 years older than Boston—hubbiest and most rejuvenated of the work of civilised hands! The cupolas of the cathedral, of the hospital, and of the old church of San Miguel, were visible some time before the adobe houses of the "city" came in view. The builders put Santa Fé in a hollow for the sake of the little stream. Colonel Hatch and his staff, who were waiting to receive the Duke in full uniform, entered the saloon and introduced his adjutant, Captain Lord, Major Lee, of the Quartermaster-General's Department, Captain Woodruff, &c. What a charming change it was to meet agreeable, well-informed gentlemen who never once mentioned "dollars," or told us what any one was worth, or the number of bushels of wheat and other stuffs which were raised per acre, and who had no elevators to show! Carriages were waiting. Colonel Hatch drove the Duke of Sutherland "behind" a capital pair of fast trotters. Lady Green and Sir H. Green, accompanied by Major Lee, were in a carriage and pair; Mr. Stephen, Mr. Wright and I were assigned to Captain Woodruff; Edward was on the box; our chariot wheels drave heavily; but the spirited little horses spun us rapidly through the streets of the town, into what would be called in India "the cantonment"—the Head-Quarters of the district of New Mexico. Within a large quadrangle, fenced in by a neat white paling, facing two sides of the square, are placed the detached houses of the officers, each with its little garden and trellised verandah in front, and a small space in the rear; the barracks and hospital, very neat outside, and no doubt equally proper interiorly—efforts at gardening and flowers commendable. In the centre the tall pole bearing "Old Glory" (the Stars and Stripes) aloft to the admiring skies, a Parrot gun for signals, and military properties generally. Some soldiers of the 9th Cavalry and 15th Infantry were lounging about, but the Command is scattered at Fort Union, Fort Bayard, Fort Wingate (13th Infantry), Fort Lewis, Pagosa Springs, Fort Craig, Ojo Caliente, Fort Stanton, Fort Bliss (Texas), Fort Cummings, and Fort Seldon. Just before we arrived a column had marched off to strengthen the frontier posts, 200 miles away, where the Ute Indians were menacing the poor whites with war—one of those troubles which appear to be the greatest blot on the capacity of the United States Government in its civil administration. The streets are narrow, the houses of abode two storeys high, with flat earth roofs, but there is a plaza with some trees, in which there was a small crowd listening to the strains of the excellent band of the 9th Cavalry—a penny theatre, drinking saloons, bars, &c., and a large hotel is being built on a scale which argues a robust faith in the future of Santa Fé. From the mounds on which Fort Marcy stood in the time of the war, we looked down on the flat roofs of the town and wondered how the people were fed, for of cornfields or of green there was no trace; but we were told that there is a good deal of trade in the place, and that it was not as bad as it looked. Thence the Cathedral—to be the magnum opus of the good Archbishop. The lofty walls of cut stone and pillared doorways and windows are rising—let us hope rapidly and surely—round the original adobe of the simple edifice, which was built by the Spaniards in the usual cruciform shape more than two centuries ago. Some veiled and black-robed sisters of charity were praying before the Virgin in the transept; curiosity to see the strangers prevailed for a moment, and for a moment only. Criticism must be mute before the pious intent with which the intrepid missionaries decorated with images and pictures the altar and the lateral chapels. If any one as he stood thought of the peril which attended the steps of these good men, and then felt inclined to scoff at the rude art of the Christian symbols he saw around him, I should not feel proud of his companionship. We went on to the Church of San Miguel, an adobe block, dating from 1572, in the time of the Marquis of Penuelo, but renovated after two fires, the last about 200 years ago. The stalwart sacristan who received us, a full-blooded Canadian, was a famous base ball player. He showed the little there was to be seen with care and courtesy—no doubt "pius miles, fortis sacerdos." A large Hospital, due to the devotion of one nun, who collected and worked year after year among the faithful, was pointed out to us. But we had yet to pay our respects to the venerated and venerable Archbishop. Our carriages stopped at the door of a modest house—the visitors were conducted through an open courtyard in the Spanish fashion, with a fountain sparkling in the centre, to the Archbishop's reception-room, a quietly furnished apartment, with religious paintings and pictures on the walls, bookcases well-filled with patristic theology, history, &c. Presently the Archbishop entered—a tall man of commanding presence and benevolent aspect, dressed in the purple of his rank, with perfect manners and the pleasantest possible expression in his keen yet gentle eyes. Over seventy years of age, he is still the boldest and most untiring of horsemen, and, unarmed and unescorted, he travels from one end of New Mexico to Texas and California without any fear of what man, red or white, can do unto him. It is forty years since Archbishop Lamy left the shores of France for America, and for thirty years he has devoted himself to the spiritual welfare and temporal progress of the people of his enormous diocese. By all classes and all denominations he is held in honour, and when the Pope sent him the archbishop's pallium some years back, the procession was headed by two Jews! a singular token of tolerance on both sides, which might be commended to the notice of religious Germans and Russians. The Archbishop led us to his ample and well-stocked garden, an oasis in the adobe wilderness; to his fish-ponds, where trout and fish unknown to us rose to take food from his hand, all the time chatting so easily and answering questions so kindly that every one felt sorry when it was time to go. If all we were told be true, the field of the Archbishop's labours yields many tares and thistles. Monte is a powerful rival; faro has many votaries; the only two houses of pretension in Santa Fé belong to priests of these cultes. High and low, rich and poor, gamble as the business of life. The ladies, once freed from duennadom by marriage, cause great uneasiness to their father confessors. Several of the younger women, with fine eyes and teeth and raven tresses, were pretty, but we did not see any who looked like a lady; the old ones were fat and exceedingly unlovely. The Mexican men and women were dark as Indians—dusky as Lola—and easily recognisable from Americans by their affectation of gay colours in dress. Colonel Hatch and his officers bade good-bye at the station. General Sheridan had telegraphed that the party would arrive last night, and a little ball had been arranged in our honour, but all we could do now was to thank our friends for their good intentions and drink to their long life and preservation from the Indians and other evils, and at four o'clock the train moved out and left the capital of New Mexico to its own devices. The good prelate sent the Duke a present of Mexican wine, which disappeared between the house and the railway. I hope it disagreed with the rogues who drank it, but that is a detail. The Indians—a race called Pueblos—about here are quiet, civilised after a fashion and a bad one. There is a large settlement some miles farther on than Santa Fé where the train halted, and we were surrounded by red men eager for tobacco, women, and children, with turquoises to sell—keen-eyed, white-teethed, with masses of straight, coarse black hair, cut straight off the forehead, worn by the men in clubs behind, and by the women in unkempt locks. The women had their legs swathed from the knee down in thick folds of cotton cloth, and wore a sort of kilt, with red and black blankets on their shoulders. The men wore deerskin leggings and castaway European clothing; none were armed but one, who had an old musket. I committed a penal offence unwittingly by giving one of them a small glass of whisky. Alas! How long was it before our kind Christian friends discovered that the firewater of the palefaces was not an "agency" for good? How long ere the Wilfrid Lawsons of Washington decreed that temperance for red men should be enforced by law? The train sped on, the broad dry bed of the tributary of the Rio Grande del Norte close at hand. Ere sunset we had struck the great but unprofitable river itself. As the train steamed along through the waste, "It's exactly like Sibi," said one. "It's Beloochistan," says another. "No," argued a fellow, "It's like Egypt about Abul-Simnel." Any way, an Indian Caractacus might well wonder why Hidalgo of Spain or Yankee of New England should envy him his barren, fata-morgana-haunted desert, fenced in by mountain ridges tier upon tier. "By thunder! they'll get $100,000,000 of gold out of that mountain before they be done with it. There is a company forming to make a dam that will cost $500,000 to scoop it out." And the untutored Indian, anxious for a 10c. piece, knew not that more wealth than Cortez, or Pizarro, Drake, or Raleigh, ever dreamt of lay close at hand! The Duke, who had what the Americans call "quite a good time of it" on the engine, with a London and North-Western driver, was struck with the stress of work put on the locomotive. It was to run from Kansas City to Deming—1140 miles—it is not often an English engine has to do more than 200 miles without an overhaul and rest. There were two engineers and two firemen for all the journey, and they were to return from Deming as soon as needed. "Ten o'clock! Arthur, make up the beds—good night, everyone!" Rattle, rattle, all night—onwards under the bright stars through the desert till morning.